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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 12 - Somnophilia

Soap x Reader - 5.5k (on ao3)

summary: Your doctor offers to help you get home after your lasik eye surgery. (Reader POV & Johnny POV)

cw: noncon sex, drugging, kidnapping, briefly mentioned lasik eye surgery (no description past one mention of a scalpel)

note: tysm to ceil for giving me this idea <3 i did a few google searches on lasik eye surgery and tried to mention the actual feelings as little as possible, and also the drug johnny uses is probably literally impossible but its fic so who cares lol

“And… how long did you say I have to wear these?” You ask, tentatively touching the glasses resting over your eyes.

“Och, not long at all. Just until tonight, then you come in for a check-up tomorrow afternoon and I’ll let you know what other care you’ll need.” Dr. MacTavish replies, big hands adjusting the frames and pushing them up your nose.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are they usually painted like this?” You’d hardly been able to see post lasik-surgery - mostly just big swaths of color - but you feel far more vulnerable with the sunglasses on, their blacked out lenses leaving you entirely in the dark except for the blurry light around the rims.

Your doctor’s laugh is low and comforting, his hand patting you on the shoulder before you hear him moving away. “Of course. Not all optometrists use them, but I’ve found for patients like you they have the best results.”

“Like me?”

“Yes,” another chuckle, and the sounds of what you assume are tools being put away. “Patients who struggle to be good and sit still during their surgery.”

“Ah.” You feel your cheeks go hot in embarrassment. “I really am sorry about that…”

“No need,” he reassures, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. You can’t help but jerk a little, the glasses slipping down your nose. “Oops, don’t be losin’ those, bonnie.”

Your cheeks go hot and you have to fight the urge not to reach up and fix them yourself since his hand gets their first. He rights them quickly, then taps the tip of your nose with a finger. “There you go. Let’s keep those where they should be, hm?” He gives the nape of your neck a squeeze, his palm warm and rough, and you do your best to nod without awkwardly dislodging him.

“Now, do you have a ride home?”

You suck your teeth a little at that. You hadn’t known you’d be wearing the dark glasses after - the care plan you and Dr. MacTavish had discussed beforehand had made it seem like you’d be able to ride the bus home, but you’re not comfortable doing that in your blinded state.

“Ah, not right now,” you start, tangling your fingers together in your lap to avoid rubbing at your itchy eyes. “But I can probably call a friend-”

“Nonsense,” Dr. MacTavish dismisses, moving away from you and back to whatever he’d been moving before. “You’re my last patient of the day, how about I give you a ride home?”

“Oh,” you start, startled at his offer. “Oh, that’s… no, that’s alright, Doctor. I’m sure one of my friends could-”

He interrupts you with a tsk, and suddenly there’s a hand at your elbows guiding you up, then just one as he walks you out of the office. “No, that won’t do. We need to get you home and in bed as soon as possible - it’s not good for you to be keeping your eyes open so much after surgery, you know.”

“Oh, really?” You gasp a little, letting him guide you. “Should I be keeping them closed? I don’t want to make anything worse…”

“You’re doing just fine, bonnie, no worries.” The hand on your elbow squeezes as you come to a stop, and you hear the sound of something being written on. “I’ll take good care of you now. C’mon.” What must be a pen is dropped onto what you can only assume is the front counter, and you’re guided forward again. “We’ll have you safe at home in no time.”

Dr. MacTavish’s car is nice - the seats aren’t cracking at all, the air conditioning works to cool the interior quickly, there’s a faint minty smell - but it disconcerts you more than you might’ve expected to be left completely blind in an unfamiliar environment, and with someone you don’t know past a professional relationship.

You give him your address after he buckles you in (you swear his hand brushes your chest, but it doesn’t linger and you don’t want to accuse him of something unfounded just because of a slight touch) and he doesn’t bother to input it into the GPS, tells you he already knows where the neighborhood is.

You haven’t felt so vulnerable in a long time. Even around the edge of the glasses, all you can see are blurs of color, and you feel oddly exposed without the ability to see. Your eyes itch and sting, and it takes conscious effort not to rub the feeling away.

You lift a hand to rub them without even thinking but before it’s even halfway to your face Dr. MacTavish grabs it, pinning it to your thigh and making a low noise of dissent. “No rubbing now, lass, you know the rules.”

The heat creeping up your neck is entirely involuntary, and you tuck your free hand beneath your leg to resist the urge to squirm. “Right, of course, I’m sorry Dr. MacTavish.”

“Johnny, lass, no need for titles off the clock.”

You try to make a vague noise of understanding but end up sounding a bit like a bird, your hand clammy beneath his. He gives you a squeeze, but doesn’t let go. You’d ask him to move but… well, you don’t want to make things awkward when he’s your only way home at the moment and you figure he’s just helping. So you try to relax your fingers, and zone out to the sound of him humming along to the radio.

“Here we are,” he announces eventually, the car slowing to a stop before he turns into your driveway. “Nice neighborhood, hen. Very safe.”

You try to laugh casually and cringe when it just comes off as awkward - you’re unsure how to naviagte small-talk when all you really want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. “I just moved here recently, but it seems to be a pleasant area. I certainly don’t have any complaints.”

Dr. MacTavish - Johnny - hums in response, turning the car off and getting out to come to your side. He unbuckles you quickly and again there’s a little voice in the back of your head that says his hand lingered by your waist for just a few beats too long. But his fingers don’t venture anywhere appropriate, and you tell yourself that you’re seeing something that isn’t really there.

He keeps a hold of your elbow as he guides you up the stairs and into your building. He pauses and then a moment later you hear a ding, and the clear familiar sound of an elevator opening.

“Oh,” you say, shocked as he tugs you forward. “I had no idea the elevator was fixed - it’s been out of order since I moved in.”

“Really?” You hear press a button.

You stand there in silence for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, before you feel the elevator start to move.

“Um, Dr Ma- Johnny, what floor did you pick?”

There’s a pause before he answers, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Och, silly me,” Johnny laughs, the sound echoing in the metal walls. “Force of habit, bonnie, I picked my floor in my building. What’s yours?”

You try to laugh it off, but the way his fingers tighten almost imperceptiably against the crook of your elbow has you sounding a bit too stiff. “Four, please.”

“Four,” he hums, and you hear him press another button.

The ride up is a bit awkward, at least from your perspective. Johnny makes no attempt at conversation past the occasional hum along to the music, and you’re a little too on edge to worry about small-talk right now.

Calm down, you insist to yourself. He’s just being polite. Making sure you get home safe. You’ve got to stop seeing the worst in people.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to relax.

There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence when the door opens for the first time, both you and Johnny just waiting for it to close and take you to the proper floor.

The doors are much quicker to open the third time, and you figure Johnny must live on the third or fifth floor in his own building for you to have gotten to your floor so quickly.

“What’s your apartment number, lass?”

You tell him, and his hold loosens slightly against your arm. There’s a part of you - the part still a little cautious for reasons you can’t quite name - that relaxes when the path he takes is familiar. Only a few steps, apartment on the right side of the hall.

“Let me get my keys,” you mumble, tugging your arm away from his and pulling your keychain out of your pocket. You’d opted not to bring a purse to your surgery, thinking you’d be riding the bus home mostly blind, so you’ve got virtually nothing to dig through before offering your keyring up.

They’re taken, you hear the familiar jungling soun, and then you’re being guided into your apartment by a firm hand placed at the small of your back. You can’t help but sigh deeply in relief, the familiarity of your home a comfort when you still feel so unachored without your sight.

“Very cute place you’ve got,” Johnny compliments, a smile audible in his voice.

“Thank you.” You hesitate just a moment before going on, unsure of how to phrase your next sentence. “And thank you for all the help getting home, Doctor, I really do appreciate it.”

A.k.a., I’m safe, you can leave.

“Aye, of course!” Johnny says, sounding almost offended like you were implying he wouldn’t usually take his patients home. Another part of you relaxes - he probably does this for every patient he sees at the end of a workday, you’re certainly nothing special. “Now, let’s get you settled nice and snug in bed, and then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“Nonsense!” You’re cut off as he drops a heavy hand onto the nape of your neck, ignoring your slightly dramatic flinch and guiding you forward. “I’ve gotten you this far, would be a shame if I left you now and you took a tumble, hm?”

“I think I can get around my own apartment well enough, “ you try to protest, a little huff of offense escaping without your permission.

“Well, now we won’t have to test that theory.”

He moves quickly and just seconds later you’re sort of shoved onto your bed - almost oddly high off the ground, but you chalk it up to the way you stumble onto it.

Johnny scoops your feet up, laughs a little at your yelp and lays you out on the bed. You blink up into the dark glasses, a little gobsmacked at the sudden shift and odd amount of manhandling from the doctor.

“Do you have any pain meds, love? We wouldn’t want you wakin’ up in the middle of the night, all uncomfortable and hurt. Something light, like Advil or Tylenol?”

“Um, yes,” you stutter a bit, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and glancing up at where you hear his voice. “In my bathroom, on the counter. But Dr. MacTav-”

A hand presses into the center of your chest, forcing you back to the bed with a little oof before your hear him walk away. “Johnny, lass! What’ll I have to do to get you to call me the proper name, hm?”

His voice is almost jovial, and you hear him muttering to himself a bit through the open door of your bathroom before he returns. You hear water running for a moment, and then his shoes on the carpet of your bedroom as he comes back.

“Here,” he says as he grasps your hand, holding it palm open and dropping two pills into it. “And you had a spare cup in the bathroom, so you won’t have to swallow dry.”

“Thank… thank you, Doc- Johnny, truly, I appreciate it.”

You swallow dryly, suddenly thankful for the glass of water. The pills are small in your palm, familiar but there’s something in the back of your head screaming at you. You run your fingers over them absentmindidly, the stinging itch in your eyes growing.

Johnny scoops an arm around your shoulders, helping you sit up a bit and guiding the glass to your lips. “Here you are, lass, quick sip.”

You listen, then pop the pills into your mouth and swallow them with the water.

“Good girl,” Johnny hums, his voice vibrating through your side. His hand squeezes the shoulder in his grasp, and you shudder out a breath at the odd… intimacy? That doesn’t quite feel like the right word, but affection feels too distant for how close he holds himself.

You’re guided back down, head resting on a somewhat-flat pillow, and Johnny moves down to the end of the bed to take off your shoes.

Now that you’re resting in bed, it hits you how exhausted you are. The past few days of worrying over your procedure, the actual stress of the surgery itself, and the odd tension you’ve carried since all leave you feeling drained entirely once your head hits the pillow.

“We’ll get these shoes off so you’re nice and comfortable,” you hear Johnny say, his voice a little muffled now that you’re nearly half-asleep already. “Tired, lass?”

You only hum a bit, curling onto your side once both of your shoes are off, the sound of them thudding on the carpet almost silent. Your nose scrunches a bit as you get your first scent of the pillow. It doesn’t quite smell right, the lingering air of shampoo is definitely not one you’re familiar with.

There’s a shift of weight against your back, then a hand stroking over your head.

“Just sleep, bonnie. I’ll watch out for you.”

There’s a part of you, still awake enough, that thinks that isn’t right. But the more major part of you is already asleep.

———————————————————————

Johnny can’t help but smile as he watches you sleep. The little trail of drool dripping from your lips onto his pillow, the soft sounds of your breathing, the twitches to your expression as you dream.

You’re truly adorable. He’d known it as soon as you came for a consultation about the surgery, and every moment spent after has only cemented that in his head. Even the way you tensed and squirmed in his chair while he was working was cute, your desperation to be good and listen overpowering your fear of what he was doing.

He reflects on the day as he gets undressed, folding his clothes on your dresser. You’d been very nervous, and even his most soothing tone and friendly conversation topics hadn’t done much to help. It’s natural - nobody’s ever at ease with a scalpel held over their eye - but he’d still felt a little dissapointed that his presense wasn’t of much help calming you down.

But it’s alright. You’ll learn very soon that you can trust him.

It was easier than he’d expected to get you back to his home. You’re far too trusting, apparently - another reason it’s for the best if he keeps an eye on you - and past some clear tension in your stance, you hadn’t fought him once or even tried to make sure he had taken you to the right place.

Johnny’s certainly not going to complain, though. His plan had been half-baked at best. Honestly if you’d even put up a slight bit of resistance, he probably would have taken you back home - your home - and gone back to the drawing board.

He can’t help but smile a bit. The fact that you hadn’t fought at all is just more proof that this was meant to be.

He climbs over your body, his naked skin brushing against your clothes. You don’t shift at all as he rolls you to your back, your face still relaxed in sleep. His smile grows.

“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing a hand over your face. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

It’s easy to push your shirt up your stomach. He doesn’t take it off, not quite willing to risk that much movement while the drugs could still be settling in.

God, the way you’d just taken his pills with no hesitation, with just complete and total trust in him to do right by you. It makes his cock stifen against your stomach, the way you’d just listened and trusted him.

He moans as he finally pushes your shirt up to your collarbones, the sight of your tits bringing him to full hardness almost immediately. You’d dressed up for him, soft white lace wrapped around your beautiful chest.

He ducks down to suck a peak into his mouth, tonguing at a nipple through the fabric. He groans a bit at the taste of your skin, muted as it is, and quickly tugs down the cup of the bra to get a real bite of you.

He could lay there at your tits for hours, he just knows it. He kisses his way across your chest, gives your other nipple some love and thumbing at the first with a free hand. He forces his movements to stay soft and slow, resists the urge to bite and leave a ring of teeth marks around your areola.

“Taste so good, baby,” he whispers as he pushes himself up, admiring the shiny spit across your skin. He rubs it in a little, spreading himself across any place his lips hadn’t touched. “Gonna let me get a taste of your pussy too?”

Obviously you don’t respond. Still, Johnny smiles down at you and moves to pet your stomach.

“Yeah, I know you will. Just wanna be a good girl for me, hm?”

Of course you do, he already knows you’ll be good to him - be good for him.

It’s easy to wrap his hands around your waist and flip you gently to your stomach. He guides your head to the side and pulls your hair away to make sure he can get a good view of your pretty face, leans down to give you a soft kiss on the cheek and breathes in the scent of your bodywash and shampoo.

Your pants are easy enough to get off, and he forces himself to tug them all the way off both legs before even looking at your sweet little ass. He’d been staring at any chance he could all day, had kept his eyes glued to your backside for the entire elevator ride up to his apartment when he was sure you couldn’t see his leering.

Now he can’t help but groan aloud when he kneels over your thighs, the sight of you vulnerable and limp beneath him almost too much to handle.

“C’mon, spread your knees for me, lass,” he mutters, slowly moving your legs to the side and moving between them. He’s careful as he props you up onto your knees, folding them beneath you and making sure to balance you with one hand on your hip so you don’t fall to the side.

He’s nearly drooling as he gets his first sight of your core - lips just slightly spread, pretty pink pussy peeking out at him. It’s almost too much, he has to give himself a few quick jerks just to lessen the ache building in his cock.

“Look at you,” he says on a sigh, dipping his head low enough to breathe in your scent. He hikes your hips up a little higher to keep you at the right angle, quickly shushes your little noise of discontent at the shift.

“It’s alright, you’re ok,” he reassures, petting over your hip a few times to calm your unconscious mind. “Just wanna make you feel good, pretty thing. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

He licks you, from clit to ass, to help you calm down a bit more. It works - your body goes a little more limp in his hold, your back arching more easily into the position he wants. He licks you several more times, groaning as he tries to cover every inch of your cunt, tasting every piece of skin he can. He lays his tongue flat at first, then uses the tip to make sure he doesn’t miss a spot.

“So good,” he moans, burying his face into your center and just breathing there for a moment. There’s a little bit of slick beginning to drip from your hole, but not much. He licks it up anyway, savoring the taste and promising to feast later.

He stays glued to your clit for a bit, taking the little bud between his lips and running the tip of his tongue over it again and again until he finds the exact spot that makes your thighs twitch, the pattern that has you whining every other breath.

Johnny moves back up, laps at the sweet nectar dripping steadily from you now. Every little flick of his tongue arouses you more, and no matter how long he keeps his mouth on you he knows he’d never run out of your taste.

It’s with only a bit of reluctance that he pulls away. He spreads both of your cheeks with his palms, admiring your two tight little holes and the sheen covering your most sensitive spots. He’d like to give your ass a few smacks, paint it red and watch you squirm, but he’s not sure how much sensation he can give you without pulling you from the drugs’ hold.

Which is also why he tucks a few fingers into your cunt, just to stretch you out. He’d like to fuck into you without any prep at all, watch your pretty face scrunch up as you’re spread on the thickest cock you’d ever taken (and he knows he’s the biggest you’ve had). Maybe you would even cry a little, blink teary eyes up at him and ask him to slow down.

He groans at the image, scissoring his fingers inside of you to prepare you as quickly as he can.

It’s easy to ease himself forward and line his cockhead up with your little hole. He knows another finger would’ve been a kindness, but with how his cock throbs between his legs he’s not sure he’ll make it very long once he’s finally inside of you.

So he taps the tip against your leaking hole, snorts quietly when the thought pops into his head that he’s almost knocking on a door, then slowly lets himself sink inside of your heat. He’s stares transfixed at the way your body opens for him so easily, a smooth coming together that he wishes he never had to look away from.

He keeps a secure grip on your hips, letting gravity do most of the work as his hips push forward steadily. His head rolls back on his neck, mouth hanging open and grunts spilling from his lips as your tight heat envelops him further and further.

He pauses halfway in to take a breather, just so he doesn’t come before his balls even meet your clit. Your body’s grip on him is unlike anything he’s ever felt, and he knos he made the right choice in bringing you home with him.

It’s hard, but Johnny manages to control himself and keep from fucking you too roughly. His thrusts are long and slow if a little extra harsh, and he stares down at your scrunched up little face and imagines all the filthy ways he’ll have you in the coming weeks.

You shift on your knees when he hits a particularly nice spot, little whines pouring from your throat on exhales. His thrusts nearly punch the air from your body, and he finds himself breathing in sync with you as he loses himself more and more to the pleasure.

He slips a hand from your waist to your clit as he gets closer. It would be awfully selfish of him to leave you needy after getting himself off, and he’s not about to deny himself the tight clench of your body as he brings you to climax.

It takes a little bit of trial and error to figure out what feels good for you - he can’t quite discern the difference between a nose scrunch of frustration and one of pleasure - but the steady pumps of his hips and the constant motions against your clit quickly bring you to the edge.

Your cunt tightens deliciously around him as you finally come, but the true beauty is in the way you go absolutely boneless beneath him. He has to firm up his grip on your waist just to keep you from sinking flat on the bed, huffing a laugh as he thrusts just a bit faster, just enough to get himself there too.

He lets his head fall beside yours as the two of you ride out your climaxes together, staring wide-eyed at the way your face relaxes into the pleasure. He leans forward enough to mesh your lips together, messily forcing your mouth open and licking at your tongue.

It’s not the best kiss - he has to do all the work, and he ends up soaking both of your chins in spit - but he relishes in it anyway. Your first kiss together is something he knows he’ll want to remember for years to come.

He hardly notices as he slips from your body, tingles shooting through every nerve leaving him mostly unaware of his body’s functions. He hardly has the energy to make sure he doesn’t crush you beneath him, instead laying beside you and tucking you into his chest.

“Thank you, bonnie,” he whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “That was fantastic. Can’t wait to do it again, maybe you’ll do a bit more next time, yeah?” He laughs a little at his own joke, snuggling you close to him and letting his eyes shut slowly.

———————————————————————

You’re not sure how long it’s been when you wake up next, but you can tell immediately that something isn’t right.

First of all, you’re half naked. And you can tell you’re half naked because your legs are being cradled by someone else’s naked legs. And you know for a fact that you didn’t bring anyone home with you.

Except… it occurs to you slowly as you finally blink stinging eyes open, except you did. Dr. MacTavish brought you home.

And you let him into your apartment. You just handed your keys over to a man you hardly knew, let him guide you right to bed without any sort of fight.

Your head pounds with a vengeance, right behind your already hurting eyes.

You let him give you pills, too. You remember that, though it’s the last thing you remember. He asked where your pain meds were and you didn’t even bother to check that he’d given you what you expected. You just swallowed them with water, like this was a man you could trust.

The slight soreness between your thighs tells you that you couldn’t.

The tears that begin to gather in your eyes hurt, which makes you want to cry even more. You can’t hold back a sniffle, then a hiccup, then what sounds more like sobs than anything else.

You bring your hands up to cover your mouth, briefly recoil and the weight over your torso.

You can’t bring yourself to look, but you know who’s in bed with you.

Johnny wakes up just minutes later, shifting and making a soft sound of confusion. It must not take him long to put the pieces together because it only takes him a few seconds to start cooing, his rough palm cupping your face over your own hands.

“Lass?” He hums, and from your peripheral you see his brows furrow. It’s only a slight comfort that you even can see. “What’s wrong?”

That almost gets a laugh out of you. You nearly choke on the sound, spit catching in your throat. “What’s- what’s wrong?”

He sighs, like he already knows. Of course he knows. He has to know.

“Don’t be upset.” He leans a little closer, and to your horror you feel him press his lips against your forehead. “You can be awake next time, yeah? Then you won’t feel so left out.”

“Left out,” you echo, a strain of horror making its way into your voice.

“But only if you can be good,” he clarifies. “No fighting me now. Just keep being good for me and you can stay awake, alright?”

“Good…” You feel like a robot, but the combination of your headache and the absurdity of your situation leaves you unable to process what’s happening.

It processes much faster when you feel one of his hands slide up the shirt you’re - by some miracle - still wearing. It’s instinctual to jerk up the bed and away when he goes straight for one of your breasts.

“Get- get off me!” Your voice is nearly a shriek, the pitch sending a shock of pain up your skull.

You don’t make it very far in your tiny escape attempt, Johnny quickly hefting himself above you and pinning you down with his weight.

“Now, lass,” he scolds, face set in a frown that you can’t tell is sarcastic or serious. “What did I just say?”

You can’t make yourself speak, fingers trembling beside your head as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“C’mon,” he goads, dropping his weight a little lower. “Just gotta do one thing for me to stay awake, tell me what it was.”

“I’m not-” you gasp a big breath, blinking up at the man above you. “I’m not fucking calming down! Get off of me, you freak, how dare you-”

“Alright!” He nearly shouts, drowning you out. “That’s enough of that. Back to sleep with you, I think. We’ll see if you can handle participating next time.”

He’s leaned to the side before you can really register what he’s said, scooping two little white pills into his palm and coming back over you.

“Open wide,” he taunts, lips curled into a small smirk as he holds his closed fist above your mouth.

Every instinct in you says to scream and shout, to fight back. But he’s got you pinned with your arms stuck between the two of you, unable to lift your hands and cover your mouth, so you clamp your lips as tightly shut as you can to keep him out.

Johnny only sighs, like you’re making his drugging terribly inconvenient. You squeeze your eyes shut to block out his face, praying that you’ll open them and this will all just be a terrible nightmare.

“Really, lass?” He complains, his free hand reaching up to pinch your nose. Without anything to hold him up, you’re nearly crushed beneath his body weight. “Very mature. I can pinch far longer than you can hold your breath, y’know. You’re making this difficult for no good reason.”

Your eyes fly open at that, glaring up at him with what you hope is a scathing look.

He only laughs.

“Very cute,” he hums, rubbing his nose against your cheek. Your chest burns from the lack of air. “I think you’ll be just perfect to keep around the house. You’ll brighten this place in all the right ways, won’t you?”

Your eyes well with tears as black stars begin to dance across your vision. Completely against your own will, your lips part and you suck in a deep breath.

Johnny doesn’t waste any time - you nearly choke on the pills as they fly down your throat with the air you desperately inhale. You nearly choke, hacking with tears streaming from your eyes, but Johnny just holds a hand over your mouth and brings you both up enough to harshly pat your back.

“There you go, you’re ok,” he mumbles in your ear, rubbing the place he’d slapped as your chest heaves with desperate breaths. The pills leave an uncomfortable lump in your throat, and you reach up to rub at it as if that will make it any better.

He stays like that, holding you close, for several long heartbeats.

“Good girl,” he hums, lips pressing to your temple and the sound rumbling through the contact. “I hope you won’t make me do that next time, I’d much rather you be awake for this next part.”

He lays you back slowly, and you distantly wonder what on Earth he’s given you to knock you out so quickly. Already your eyes feel heavier and you’ve hardly swallowed. You try to keep your eyes open as long as possible, which leaves you staring up at Johnny as he hovers above you.

“It’s not the worst thing, though,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek and thumb passing your undereye. “I don’t mind having you like this, soft and sweet for me.”

Your eyes finally flutter shut just as you feel your legs being nudged apart.

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 1 year

Text

Complications and Solutions: Chapter 9

Summary: Steven, Marc, and Jake are learning how to work together and respect one another. Gotta start somewhere. Where does the relationship with Layla stand now?

Pairings: Marc x Layla. Steven x Layla. Jake x Layla.

Warnings: Food. They eat. Mild sexual language. Kissing. A Bad pun.

Word Count: 3686

Start at the beginning with Chapter One: HERE

Previous chapter: HERE

---

Jake stared at the white board that was now hanging on the wall. There was a small cup attached to the side filled with multiple colored markers.

A note in dark blue had been written across the board in Steven’s quick but fancy handwriting.

Our communication board. Please leave important info here like appointments or dates or grocery items. Put the rest in the journal.

- Steven

Under that was a simple response in black marker sketched out by Marc’s heavy hand.

Fine.

Jake picked up a red marker and held it up to the board. He hesitated then sighed and simply wrote: O.K.

He could imagine Steven’s frown at seeing these two short responses. He ran a hand through his hair then added: We need a haircut please. Just a trim.

There. A start.

Now what was this journal business?

He glanced around and saw three notebooks sitting on the kitchen counter with a pen. Each one had a name written across the cover.

He opened the one with his own name and stared at the front page. It was a letter to him from Steven.

I want us to talk, but I understand that sometimes we can’t. We can work on that, but maybe it will take time. Till we can all share the same space and talk and agree on things together, we can leave notes for each other personally.

Thank you for watching out for us. I don’t know how long you have been here, and if you ever watched over me or if you just kept your eyes on Marc, but you are my hero.

You aren’t alone anymore. I can watch over us all too. You don’t have to tell me our past or the things that happened or even explain yourself. Let me offer you help sometimes. I can offer you emotional support or talk us out of a situation. Please don’t overlook me and my abilities. Let us work as a team. Let me get to know you too.

Jake ran his fingers over the ink and felt the traces of the person that had written it. He had watched Marc all of his life. Now and then he had taken a peak at Steven, but he had never really paid attention. Steven’s life was controlled and mundane and never required a quick step in to save them or stop harm.

Jake suddenly realized that he had been overlooking Steven. Overlooking his importance to the system as a whole and not just in helping to calm Marc down when he was melting down.

“Lo siento…” Jake sighed and turned the page. He made a promise to try to talk to Steven later.

On the next page he saw Marc’s handwriting. It was short and he imagined Marc reluctantly being forced to write something by Steven.

Hey. Thanks for all the saves. Sorry I’m such a shit. Maybe try talking to me now and then instead of just knocking me out. I can fight. I can take hits. I’m not as fragile as you think.

Jake sighed. Marc could take the hits. He wished Marc didn’t have that special talent, but the man could take the worst beating of his life and stay standing.

Jake hesitated then picked up Marc’s notebook. He put pen to paper then wished he had Steven’s ability to communicate. What did he want to tell him?

You are the single most difficult person I have ever met. We share a lot. I learned to look out for you because I respect you.

He groaned and closed the book. This was going to be difficult. He would try for Steven’s sake, but it would just be easier to start talking to them.

He wasn’t used to letting them sit near the front when he was out. It often made him nervous to know they were watching. He had spent so long acting on his own and covering his tracks.

In fact, the first time Steven had spoken up and commented to him while he was out he had startled so hard that he had dropped everything. He knew that the first time Marc sat near the front with him he was not going to like it.

It was hard to learn to share.

Speaking of sharing, he heard the sound of the front door unlocking and he had to take a moment to remember not to immediately throw someone else to the front.

“I’m back!” Layla held up a bag of food. “They were out of that appetizer you like so I got extra breadsticks.” She paused and looked at him and he could see her processing as she tried to figure out who was with her. He waited a moment, expecting her face to fall as she realized it was not Marc or Steven. Instead she smiled.

“You found the new communication station. Steven spent all morning fussing with it. He wanted to put up more decorations but Marc didn’t want to get fancy.” She set the bags on the counter and started to dig out the food containers.

Jake set the pen down and eyed the containers. “It is a start. Perhaps better than making big changes and then being upset about them later. What are we eating?”

Layla gave Jake a sheepish look and set out a box for him. “Steven ordered. He really wanted falafel. Is that okay?”

Jake shrugged. “I’m sure it’s fine. Steven will probably switch in soon anyways. He’s always near the front when you show up.” Jake glanced inward and acknowledged the man in the back trying to pretend like he wasn’t there.

“Do you always know who will switch in and out?” She started to unpack the food and set things out on plates.

Jake moved to help her, keeping an eye inward. “Not always. You get a general feel for who is closest and can get a pretty good idea that they will take front. Sometimes if everyone is close then it comes as a surprise.”

“But you can control it. You personally, I mean.” She glanced up at him. “Since it’s like your job, from what I gathered.” She blushed a little and it made Jake smile.

She wanted to know so much. He had at first been suspicious. Others had once been interested in how it all worked too, and they had labeled it unnatural and tried to kill him with pills and injections and other things.

Not Layla. Her interest was because she genuinely wanted to know how to support them. What to expect and how to settle into her own life around it. She wanted to know how to tell them apart. She wanted to know when it was okay to ask and when it was too hard for them to deal with it.

“I have a bit more control over it than the other two do. I can’t control it all the time, though. If someone is in front and does not want to give up front, I can’t always pull them. If I’m in front and they want it, they could potentially pull me, or at least make it very difficult.” He tried a piece of falafel.

“Do you like it?” She smiled.

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the falafel. “Hmn? I like the flavors. Maybe not the texture so much.”

“That’s okay. It can be a bit much if you aren’t used to it.” She laughed and looked at him for a moment as she sorted her own plate out, mixing sauces and loading up a pita. “What do you like to do for fun?”

Good question. Steven chimed in. Where do you always go so late at night?

Jake raised an eyebrow at that. Steven didn’t know how to keep his commentary to himself. He was always muttering about things or providing narration. It was hard enough for him to keep things to himself when he was in control of the body, but when he was inside things just tended to spill out of him.

“I like to drive.” He shrugged. “I find it relaxing. I also enjoy dancing. There is a place not too far from here that has good music.”

“You dance?” Layla’s eyebrows shot up. A grin slowly spread across her face. “Steven has two left feet and Marc just stands there and sways side to side. Do you really dance?”

Jake gave her a sly smile. “I am light and fast on my feet. I don’t just use it to dodge bullets.”

“Can I go dancing with you someday?” She instantly looked down, cheeks red in embarrassment. “I just… I’m maybe not very good but I always enjoyed clubbing when I was younger. I snuck into my fair share of concerts and clubs.”

“Steven is scandalized by your rebellious past.” Jake ate a bit of the rice and found the flavor to be far more to his liking. “I would love to take you. Perhaps tonight if you are free…”

“Tell Steven there’s a lot about my past that he would find scandalous.” She smirked. “I’m free. Do you want to add it to your new calendar over there? So the others don’t forget and get you all invested in something else?”

You’re in for a treat. Layla used to sneak into punk rock clubs and mosh. Tell her to wear the red thing. Marc’s voice startled him and he dropped his fork.

“Wear the red thing?” Jake mumbled.

Layla looked at him in concern for a moment then blushed so red it spread to her ears. “I…I’m not wearing that in public. Those days are over and I’m pretty sure that got tossed out years ago.” She paused then looked at him shyly. “Is…Is Marc telling you about that? Can you share pictures or memories?”

Jake looked away. “We can. I’m requesting that he doesn’t.”

Can I see? Steven perked up.

“No. Those are between Marc and Layla.” Jake took a big bite out of the falafel and chewed it stubbornly.

Layla relaxed a little. “Jake the gentleman.”

Jake felt a gentle nudge that was almost a question. Expecting Steven, he was surprised to find Marc there asking for control.

He hesitated then looked up at Layla. “Give us a second.”

Switching out with Marc never went easily and often left them disoriented or with a nasty headache.

Jake stepped back and Marc was in. There was only the briefest of moments where Marc blinked and glanced around, before he focused in on Layla and grinned.

“We should get you a new little red thing. I loved seeing you in it.” Marc glanced down at the food and started to assemble it the way it was meant to be eaten. “Like this, buddy. Takes away from the dryness.”

Jake watched as Marc poured on the sauce and mixed everything in the rice. He was still doubtful but maybe it was an acquired taste.

Layla gave Marc a look. “The number of times I put it on, I think I made it out of the house once. You never let me wear it longer than an hour.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re so sexy.” Marc reached out and lay a hand on hers. She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

“As much as I love you, I think those days are over. Besides, I have Steven and Jake to think about now. They might not appreciate those sorts of things.” She smirked.

Steven took front so hard that he practically stumbled over himself. “Mnhno! No! I appreciate those sorts of things. You are… You are absolutely lovely and stunning. If you want…”

Layla laughed and Steven blushed bright red. “The red thing can be for Marc. I think I’d like to find our own special something.”

Steven nodded eagerly. “Of course, love.” He looked down at the food and smiled. “Jake says you can wear whatever you want to the club.” He started to eat eagerly.

“Are you all talking now?” She nibbled at her meal.

Steven paused and Jake glanced to the side where Marc was hovering. It was pretty common for Marc to be to the side when Steven was out. Jake slowly put down his own wall where he often hid from the others. I’m still here.

Steven grinned. “Yeah. We’re all here. I think we’re going to try all hanging out today. See what it feels like. Might get a little loud in here.” He tapped his head. He instantly looked haughty. “Maybe not for me. I’m the only one apparently with any opinions.”

He chewed and Jake and Marc couldn’t help but grin to themselves. Steven always had opinions. Marc had come to find them endearing and expected them. Jake was starting to find them comforting.

Layla nodded, deep in thought. “Will you do me a favor?” She looked into their eyes and it was almost like she could see all three of them there, looking back at her.

“Of course.” They all answered and the accents jumbled together briefly.

“Can I hang out with you all too?” She took their hand and gave a small squeeze.

Jake took front easily without a fight. “Of course, hermosa.” He looked at their hands for a moment. “Maybe we can get some practice in before tonight…”

Her face lit up and Jake couldn’t help but stare. She was beautiful. He’d had no trouble noticing it before, but now there was something different there.

“I’m a little out of practice.” She got up and moved to slip her house slippers off.

Jake went to Steven’s old record player and selected something he had once hidden in the back. “Is it okay if it’s a bit passionate? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but the club gets a little tight.”

She smiled at him. “If it’s okay with you, I think I can handle it. Plenty of dance partners are not actually lovers, you know.”

He nodded and laughed. “Oye, idiotas. Pay attention, maybe you can take her dancing too someday. Show her real passion.” He mumbled to the two watching with rapt attention.

The music started slow then built to a passionate salsa. Jake was light and fast on his feet, sure footed in every movement. A far cry from Marc’s heavy steps and Steven’s stumbling.

He pulled Layla close, his focus fully on her as they moved and spun, dipped and slid hands across curves. His touch was light and as she gazed into his eyes she was dazzled by the smile that she found there. Was this the first time she had seen Jake smile? Seen him truly let go and be himself?

When the song ended, Jake laughed. “Steven requests a turn. Perhaps something slower.”

Switching out the song, Steven turned to Layla and took her hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Of course.” She pulled him close and rested her head on his shoulder as they slow danced, gently rocking from foot to foot in a circle. Nothing fancy but every bit as intimate.

When the song ended, he gently spun her and dipped her low and confidently. His eyes sparkled. “We share more than memories sometimes.”

“Is that so?” She grinned up at him, happy to see his pleased smile as he let her back up. “I think I remember some of my own moves.”

She changed out the music to something that used to blast across the clubs in her wilder days.

Turning, she already knew she’d find Marc there. “Remember our style?” She teased.

“We aren’t going to end up making out in the bathroom, are we? Cause those are the only moves I seem to remember.” Marc crossed his arms.

Layla stuck her tongue out at him playfully and snagged his arm. “Come on, sour puss. Let me take care of you.” She spun him, taking the lead and pulling him close.

She could see him struggling not to smile as she guided him around, shaking hips and on one occasion sliding her hips to his teasingly before she bent him back into a dip.

He burst into laughter as he looked up at her, sweating and struggling to hold him up from hitting the floor. He grinned and went dead weight on her, letting them both crash to the floor as he pulled her down into a kiss.

“Mnh. Now this is the type of dancing I can do.” He smirked. “Scandalous.”

She kissed his forehead and sat on him. “I’m not putting on a show for the other two. But you remember those moves for later, Marc.” She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I seem to recall a few positions from that club bathroom I wouldn’t mind repeating someday.”

Marc groaned and flopped back. “You’re going to embarrass me in front of Jake and Steven.”

“I’m sure Steven and I will have our own moves someday.” She smirked. “Being in a library could be very sexy.”

Steven stared up at her with wide eyes, trying to look utterly shocked and not at all interested. “I would never!”

She kissed him and smiled as he leaned into it. Pulling back, she gazed down at him lovingly. “I would never desanctify your library, Steven.”

He blushed and lightly placed his hands on her hips. “Maybe… Maybe the reference section is a little…sexy…Sometimes… Just a little…”

“The reference sex-tion?” She bit her lower lip with a grin.

“Ugh. Get off.” Marc made a face at her. “That was terrible.”

Layla laughed and shifted to get off them when the hands on her hips shifted and tightened, stilling her.

She looked down and found Jake looking up at her. The look on his face was one of curiosity. Something that needed and wanted to know the answer to a question that hadn’t been asked.

He looked her over, taking her in fully for possibly the first time with new eyes. She held still, her heart fluttering hard in her chest as he slid his hands down her outer thighs then slowly reached up and brushed over her shoulders, pulling her down.

His lips brushed over hers lightly, hesitant and asking. She responded, letting her lips press to his in a featherlight kiss.

Jake slowly slid a hand to her back and pulled her closer, his other hand moving to the back of her head, fingers sliding into her hair as he breathed across her lips then captured them in an exploratory kiss that sent shivers down her spine.

It was the first time any commentary from Steven went silent. Almost as if everyone were holding their breath in this one moment.

When he at last pulled back, Layla was left leaning over him breathing hard and feeling her every sense alight. Shyly, she looked down at him, half expecting to find him gone with Marc of Steven laying there in confusion.

Instead, she found Jake still looking up at her, his eyes clear and a small smile on his lips. “Sorry.” He shifted to sit up, letting her gently slide off him. “I thought that… You just looked so beautiful there. I wanted to…”

“You wanted to see if it was something you wanted too?” She gave him a slightly guarded look.

He glanced at her. “If it was something I could have.”

“You don’t have to.” She touched her lips, still feeling the gentle contact there. “If it’s not for you… I have the other two. If you never want to, I’m okay with that. I’m okay with you just the way you are.”

He reached out and touched her hand gently, slowly lacing his fingers with hers. “I think maybe more than friends… But I cannot say to what extent. I just know…” He searched inside for the right word. Turning to the other two, still holding their breath and watching with wide eyes, he asked for help.

Steven, the crafter of words and negotiations, stepped forward but did not take full seat. They blended and Jake understood what he had been missing out on by keeping Steven at arms length this whole time.

“What we….he means… He loves you. You’re more beautiful to him than the night sky and he could gaze at you all night, lost in your wonders. We trust you. We all trust you more than anyone. He wants to know you more than anything but he doesn’t know how to show it.” Steven smiled and shrugged before stepping back again.

Jake swallowed and gave her a shy smile. “Basically that.”

Layla pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him tightly and leaning into him fully, nearly knocking them back again. “This. This is how. This is everything I could ever want from you, Jake. You never have to give me more than this.” She clung to him tightly as emotions rushed through her. “Dancing with you, smiling, being happy. Even just letting them love you and me. Friends or lovers or boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t care what the title is. All I want is to be happy with you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Mi amore.” He flushed. “Thank you.”

God you’re so sappy. Marc gave a playful nudge to Steven.

Maybe if you tried it now and then. Steven nudged back, pleased with himself.

Gracias. Jake nudged them both.

Layla pulled back from the hug, her eyes red. “Ugh.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m a mess. I’m going to get cleaned up then we are going to finish lunch. If I’m going dancing tonight I’m going to need to find something nice.”

Jake got up and smirked. “I will make sure the body looks nice. Lucky for you that I know how to make us look nice.”

He paused at the communication board. Mustache. Yes or No?

He made a tally mark under yes then moved to sit back down to eat.

Layla smirked and grabbed one of the colorful markers and added a mark under yes.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Fic #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #Layla El Faouly #Relationships are hard #Someone has to be on Jake's side #The other two are going to regret letting Jake and Layla become BFF #It's done!#JFC this took longer than it was supposed to #Stay tuned for new stuff eventually

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en-hale-archives · 3 years

Text

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

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xxxsoukokuxxx · 3 years

Note

BSD Poe x short(4”11) female reader

Soulmate au

Fluff oneshot

Reader has the ability to turn into a black cat.

Black Cat in the Rue Morgue

Soulmate AU

Character: Poe x short fem!reader

Warnings: None

Notes: Thanks for requesting and for your patience. I haven't written a soulmate AU before so I actually did some research on it and hopefully it pays off. I hope that this is what you wanted and have a pleasant day/night!

The sun was now setting and dipped itself into Yokohama's waters letting it's light drip onto the water's surface. Book in hand, raccoon on his shoulders with a pen in the other hand Poe is lost in his thoughts. The outside world doesn't exist. There is nothing but the various ideas for his novel running through his head and softness of fur against the back of his neck and head.

He jots down a few things that he could elaborate on later. The room is dyed in the color of honey and wine as the fading warmth of the sunset creates a sense of comfort. The side of his face illuminated by the gentle golden color.

Karl suddenly jumps off his shoulders and Poe's startled. His eyes wide, 'How long has it been?' he takes in his surroundings and realizes it's already sunset and soon night will fall upon Yokohama.

Poe gets up, closes his book and stretches with a sickening cracking sound erupting from his back, indeed how long has it been? He looks down to where Karl is sitting on the floor and he reaches to ruffle the fur on his head before leaving the room.

He makes a cup of tea for himself once he's in the kitchen and stares out the window. The sleeve of his shirt slides up a bit as Poe tilts his cup to take a sip, a small scarlet mark of a feline like figure on the underside of his wrist becomes visible. It's always been there but he brushed it off, that was until he came across various articles, theories and fiction books about "soulmates". And he can't help but wonder 'Is there really someone out there who'd love me? Do I have a soulmate? Or is it just a meaningless mark?'

Sometimes he'd think it's preposterous while other times he'd genuinely love that idea. But he always blushes straight after, to imagine spending such intimate moments with someone, to hold their hand, to hold them, to share a meaningful smile...it's really a beautiful thought.

Poe sets his cup down on the counter before adjusting his coat and making his way to the front door of the spacious house and opens it. He peeks through the gap between the door frame and from where he's opened making sure there are no people out at the moment and he sighs a breath of relief. Stepping out into the quiet evening he takes a walk along a specific quiet and peaceful street he likes. Evening and night are the only times he'll ever make it outside the comfort of his home without having an anxiety attack.

As he walks down the pavement a rustling noise can be heard in an alleyway which he is just about to pass. He freezes and the hair on the back of his neck stands up. From the corner of his eye he sees a dark shadow on the floor approaching which makes him panic, "P-Please don't attack me or anything, I really don't have any valuables that you'd wa-" he cut off his sentence as he felt something rub against the bottom of his leg.

Immediately he drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands, "Okay, okay I'll surrender!" he yelps. "..." Nothing. He dares to turn his head towards his left and relief washes over him, a panic stricken face now softens, "Oh, silly me. Always panicking for no good reason." He now looks at a black cat which has it's head tilted to the side out of confusion.

It was the norm for you to roam around the city at night either because you couldn't sleep or you just liked the atmosphere. If someone happened to be walking by and you felt a curious sense of playfulness then you'd just go up and show them some cat-like affection. However, out of all the times you had done so this had never happened. "How cute." he muttered, snapping you out of your thoughts. He reached out to pet the spot atop your head.

'No wonder why cats like this.' was your thought. "I don't see any collar or anything signifying you belong to someone." he said aloud placing his forefinger on his chin. "I can't just leave you here alone, hmm and Karl would have a playmate if I took you back with me...oh but do raccoons and cats get along? They could possibly..." as he rambled on you wondered if this was a good time as any to scram or reveal that you're actually a human who has the ability to turn into a cat, specifically a black one.

You slowly backed away and he noticed. "Oh no don't be scared!" he reaches his hands out to you. Ah, he seemed like such a nice person, a gentle person. You couldn't just leave like that, now could you? A ribbon of grey spun around you with various kanji on it. A bright light flashed and Poe freezes with his hands which wanted to reach out to you. His eyes widen once he sees the sight in front of him and questions everything he knows. His mouth agape.

"Hi." you said shyly whilst dusting your attire. "...you..." he still kneeled on the ground, frozen. You felt nervous but thought that after what he just witnessed it'd be necessary to tell him about yourself. "Uhm, okay I know you think this is weird but there's this thing called abilities and my ability is to turn into a black cat..." you sped through your words while fiddling with your thumbs.

Now he understands. Of course he knows what abilities are. "Oh. Ah, don't worry I know what abilities are. I have one myself." he says standing up, now realizing just how short you are. You look up, "Wait, you do as well?" a certain spark of curiosity in your eyes, I guess having a cat ability allows you to have the same characteristics of a cat. His cheeks have a faint red color on them, you look cute when you're curious.

"Y-Yes, it's called Black Cat in the Rue Morgue." "What a coincidence." you giggle. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs contently, "Yes it is. It allows me to transport my readers into my books." "Oh, you're a writer!?" another spark of curiosity in your eyes. He internally smiled at your apparent excitement, "Yes I am. Ah! Excuse my rudeness, my name is Edgar Allan Poe but you can just call me Poe if you'd like."

A smile adorned your face and you introduced yourself too. "I'm sorry about startling you earlier, I promise you I'm no cat burglar." He blinks and after a moment you both laugh at the little pun made and the situation itself. "I don't think such an innocent looking being could ever do such a thing." he blushes as he says those words and you do too.

He takes a look at his surroundings and back at you. "W-Would you...like to uh join me for a stroll? I was planning on going t-to this cafe that's opened til late?" You look up and smile while silently thinking his stuttering is rather cute. "Sure." The walk there was peaceful and enjoyable, every three seconds he would glance at you and a lingering question would be on his mind but he brushes it off. He tries to get to know you despite his nervousness and he succeeds. Even if it's just the little things such as your favorite color, where you live, if you have any pets.

You both finally reached the cafe and took a seat, he was gentleman about pulling your seat out for you and such. The only part he dreaded was ordering, that anxiousness that would bubble up in his chest made his mouth go dry and he's at a loss for words. The barista comes about and asks if you'd both like to order anything, a simple coffee/latte was fine for you. Poe looked pale and tugged on the front of his shirt. You worried if he was okay but he eventually ordered something to drink off the menu and a sigh of relief escaped him once he was done talking.

"You okay?" His eyes widens as he finally looks up at you again, "Yes. Yeah I'm fine, no need to worry. I just..." he looks down again while rubbing the back of his neck, his hair falling over his eyes. "I'm just really shy if you could say that. Or perhaps i just have social anxiety." he let out a nervous chuckle while lifting his head to smile at you. A giggle escapes you, "I think it's cute." He's taken aback but only because he's not used to being complimented and his face turns red.

The orders are served and the barista bows and leaves again. A light-hearted conversation flitters between you two and Karl comes up somewhere in the conversation, Poe saying that he'd love to let you see him. You tilt your cup to take a sip of your drink and the sleeve of your shirt rides up a bit, revealing a portion of your wrist. Poe is taking a sip too and his eyes flutter over your figure.

His eyes widen once he catches sight of the scarlet mark on your wrist and he chokes. "A-Are you okay?" you put your cup down and panic slightly. "Y-Yes I'm fine." he replies adjusting himself.

"Can I ask you something?" curiosity now lacing his voice. "Sure, go ahead."

"Have you always had that red feline-like mark on your wrist?" You look at the mark and reply that it's always been there, indeed. "I think it's because of my ability but I'm not really sure. Perhaps it's a birthmark." He smiles. "Perhaps it is." Is this what he thinks it is? No...he couldn't possibly just jump to conclusions, but certainly what a coincidence it was. The exact same mark on both your wrists and a meeting like this? A beautiful coincidence it was.

"Why do you ask?" you tilt your head to the side much as you did when you were a cat. And if he didn't think you were any cuter now he'd be damned. "Oh no, just asking." he gives a closed eyes smile.

'Soulmates. How fascinating.' he thinks while smiling at you as you take another sip of your coffee/latte. His eyes wander again to the scarlet mark on your wrist.

And the plot thickens.

#requests #poe x reader #poe x female!reader #poe x fem!reader #edgar allan poe x reader #poe x short fem!reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #scenario #fic #ravenina14 #bsd poe #bsd poe x reader #fluff #poe x reader fluff #soulmate au #poe x reader soulmate au #i understand the header looks shitty

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watercolorfreckles · 3 years

Note

An idea:

Hero and Villain going to the same therapist but don’t know about the other. The therapist knows both of their secret identities obviously and has to deal with them complaining about each other separately

Bonus scene:

Villain finds out that therapist knows Hero’s secret identity and tries to trick the therapist into revealing Hero (can be flirting, snooping in the office, etc)

Btw, I think you’re doing fantastic with your writing! I honestly can’t believe you haven’t written in so long— your recent work flowed perfectly. Thank you for sharing your talent for writing on tumblr!!! Also I just realized how long this ask is sorry I didn’t mean to overwhelm you lol

Answering my first ask (((finally)). I'm kinda nervous lol! Thank you so much for the sweet words, @glowing-alpaca (it wont let me tag you), that makes me so happy to hear. I'm not sure if this is exactly what you pictured, but this is the direction my brain wanted to go lol I haven't written anything based specifically on someone's request before so I really hope you like this!!

"Villain?"

The villain blinked and Doctor Meadows' office came back into focus. He shook his head slightly to dispel the thoughts nagging his attention.

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked whether you gave what we spoke about last week a try? We talked about finding productive ways to express your negative emotions." Her voice was soft and void of judgment. "You have a creative mind, have you tried anything that has seemed to help you so far?"

Villain's gaze followed the curve of her pen as the therapist jotted a note down on her notepad.

"How can I possibly be productive when that fool in colored spandex is always barging in, getting in my way? What am I supposed to do, mm? Throw some pottery at him?"

The therapist's hands folded in her lap. "Even if you can't control the situation in the moment, you can still find ways to better prepare yourself, then you'll be equipped to process the aftermath in a healthy way. You can't keep Hero from doing things that act as triggers for you, but you can implement some techniques to control yourself better."

Villain scoffed. "What, you want me to try soaking with a bath bomb, sing kumbaya? Nothing will change until that cockroach is out of my way."

Despite the chill to his voice, doctor Meadow's expression was warm and gentle as she regarded him. She was much more sincere than the cold and demeaning therapists he'd met with at the previous facility he'd tried; or the doctor who cowered in fear when he showed up to his first appointment.

"I am confident that with time and effort, we can find a solution that will help you, villain. But you have to put your best foot forward. You have to invest enough in yourself to sow the desired outcome." Doctor Meadows held his gaze without fear, kind eyes and soft smile settling his restless energy.

She always had a way of snuffing out the tension that corded through him and wound him tight.

They had a connection, and Meadows seemed genuine in her care for him. Sometimes he even wondered if she felt more for him than that.

Villain huffed and glanced around the room, taking in the colorful artwork on the walls, the comforting throw rugs, pillows with silly inspiring catchphrases, and soft furnishings making the space feel inviting. He found it far more disarming than the sterile white, desolate offices he'd visited before.

The therapist continued after allowing him a moment of quiet to consider her words. "I understand that we are a ways away from you being in a place where you feel comfortable giving up your...occupation. I believe that we can work our way there, but for now, we have to take steps to minimize your destructive behavior. The intent behind your actions is the key to why you are compelled to do the things that you do. If we start there, we can make changes that are healthier for you and those around you. What things best calm you and make you feel grounded?"

You, he thought, but didn't say.

"Chaos," he said instead, dazzling her with a sharp smile. He crossed his legs, leaning back on the plush lilac couch.

Doctor Meadows didn't flinch. "So when you feel like your life and personal environment are no longer in your control, it comforts you to inflict that same helplessness on other people? To help you feel less alone."

Villain stared at her. Anyone else would have run and hidden at the look on his face.

Doctor Meadows waited patiently for his response. "Do you feel that that is a correct assesment?" she prompted.

Villain straightened to lean forward in his seat. When he spoke, his voice was low. "What gives you that impression?"

"When Mr. Ma--" her eyes widened as she cut herself off, correcting herself, "--when [Hero's superhero name] isn't around, you--"

"What did you say?"

For once, the therapist's blood ran cold at her mistake. "Pardon?"

Villain braced his hands on the table between them, slowly rising to his feet. He towered over her. "Hero. You know his name. Tell me his name."

Doctor Meadows pursed her lips. "I can't do that, Villain. Doctor-patient confidentiality states--"

"--He's your patient," Villain interrupted again, his smile something too sweet, too manic, to be sincere. Like poison.

The therapist tracked his movements while still looking steady and unshaken.

"Doctor Meadows. Juliet. You want to help me, don't you?" he purred, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "If I knew who he was, I could solve all my problems. Not to hurt him, just to keep him out of my way."

His fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. She shuddered in a soft breath, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

"I am not at liberty to share my patient's information. You should be grateful that I don't share yours."

"Sweetheart, let's not pretend I'm just any client." Villain gently took the pencil and notepad out of her hands, setting them aside. Their gazes interlocked.

"Villain--"

"Juliet," he countered, voice honeyed. His free hand landed at the small of her back and he could feel a shiver run through her.

"Villain," she said, tone giving no room to argue. "If you are not willing to respect my rules and the policies I am required to follow, I will be forced to transfer you elsewhere."

He paused at that. The silence stretched. Could he stomach losing her? His therapist, his Juliet, the only person who came close to understanding him?

How dare she threaten to abandon him?

Finally, she shifted slightly under the dangerous look he studied her with.

"Villain. Do you understand?"

Slowly, he lowered himself back into his seat. He clenched his hands at his sides.

She smiled again, and it looked like home. "Good. Take a deep breath. Let's try a few new exercises together to help you manage your emotions."

Part 2

General Taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @deadlygemuwu, @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @thanatoastie , @vlerlove-deactivated20210701, @feyriddle, yet-another-heathen

You're on this list if you've asked to be tagged in any of my writing before. I prefer doing a general list instead of individual ones since that is tedious to keep track of. Let me know if you want to be added or removed. :)

#this isnt my best but i spent a lot of time on it and that counts for a lot! :)#why am i always writing at 2 am #i have problems #didnt edit very much but its fIIINE #hopefully i can get to some continuations you all have requested soon :)#civillain x villain #writeblr #flash fiction #short story #my writing #hero x villain #villain x civillian #fiction

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

#twice x reader #twice x you #jin bubaigawara x reader #bee writes #bnha fanfiction #college au #library!twice x student!reader #twice mha #bee.writes

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3rensgf · 3 years

Text

rent a gf - two eren yeager x reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of sex, talks about "getting bitches", eren is an idiot, fuckboy!eren implied, tatbilb mention, uhh fluff idk theres not much to warn abt in here, not beta read

notes: chapter two is out! i'm really glad a lot of people are enjoying rent a gf. it really means a lot! i see some people commented on the previous chapter, and i would love to reply to them, but i'm not familiar with tumblrs commenting system D: if you wanna leave a comment for me to just read, that's fine you can still keep commenting here on tumblr. but if you would like me to reply to it, you can comment on ao3, and i will reply! happy reading :) p.s, waffles w whipped cream r so much better

[ read on ao3 ]

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In the early hours of Saturday morning, you felt a hand shaking your shoulder to wake you. Groaning and mumbling, you sleepily swatted the hand away and pulled the covers over your head. No one should be forced to wake up early on the weekends. It was Saturday, for fucks sake. Not to mention your hangover due to last nights mistakes was making your head throb.

The hand rested on your shoulder once more, shaking you gently. “(Y/N),” Mikasa said softly. “Your alarm has been going off for the past 10 minutes. Wake up. I have water and Advil.”

“Nooooo,” you moaned, snuggling deeper into your bed. “Don’ wanna.”

Mikasa stopped bothering you for a moment, and you let your guard down. Finally you could sleep. When it was time to wake up, you’d wake up.

Right as you were about to pass out again, your blanket was roughly tugged off of you. “Mikasaaa!” you whined, covering your face with your hands. “What was that for? I was trying to sleep.”

“Get up. You have to shower and get ready for lunch with Eren today. Breakfast is almost finished,” she explained, setting down the pills and water on your bedside table. “Go brush your teeth and wash your face so you can eat. Now,” she instructed sternly, moving to your window to open the curtains. The bright sunlight hit your still half-asleep face, making you hiss quietly.

She left the room moments after, probably to check up on breakfast. Honestly, you didn’t know how she could function this early in the morning despite having partied all night last night. Curse her and her inability to get hungover.

Grumbling to yourself, you adjusted your sleep clothes that had gotten disheveled overnight to make sure you looked decent. Your sleepy gaze wandered over to your nightstand to see two Advils on a napkin beside a glass of cold water. Thanking every higher power for sending Mikasa to you, you downed both pills and the glass of water. Even though you might bitch and moan to her constantly, you really weren’t lying when you said you’d die without Mikasa.

After sitting down at the edge of your bed for a few moments, you eventually shuffled into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your morning routine. It took longer than usual thanks to your sluggish and tired movements, but you got done nevertheless.

A wonderful aroma came from the kitchen when you left, stomach grumbling in anticipation for the wonderful food you were about to scarf down. Mikasa was in the process of setting down both your breakfasts on the island, sitting down on the stools when you walked in. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she greeted, resting her chin on her hands.

“Morning, sweet angel,” you replied, sitting at the stool beside her. In front of you was a plate of Funfetti pancakes with whipped cream instead of maple syrup (syrup was for pancakes only). There were a couple of cut up fruits beside them, too. “Where did you get these?” you asked, picking up your fork to take a bite of your breakfast.

Mikasa dug into her own breakfast of oatmeal as soon as you started eating. “Went grocery shopping and saw the mix in the baking aisle. I thought you’d like it,” she explained, taking a bite of her food. “Good?”

Your response was a moan, tilting your head back as you chewed. “Insanely,” you said, cutting up another bite. You stabbed the piece with your fork and guided it to Mikasa, keeping your hand under it to catch anything if it dropped.

She finished her bite and leaned in to take the bite, humming in satisfaction at the taste. “Good,” she nodded.

“They put like crack ‘n this shit,” you said through a full mouth, shoveling forkful after forkful into your mouth.

You could feel Mikasa's judging gaze for eating like a pig, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was eating these crack laced waffles as greedily as possible. “What time are you supposed to meet Eren today?” she asked to make conversation.

You remember drunkenly slurring to her that Eren was supposed to take you out for lunch today while she was trying to put you to bed. All she did was nod and dodge your flailing limbs while she tried to change you into your night clothes.

“Uhhh,” you trailed off, “I dunno actually. I think he’s gonna text me when.” The familiar notification from your phone indicated you had a text from Eren. “Right now.”

ren ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ - 9:04 AM picking u up at 12 dont be late

you - 9:04 AM k

ren ᕙ(`▿´)ᕗ - 9:05 AM dont use k with me that makes me sad :(

you - 9:05 AM k

“He says 12,” you told Mikasa, setting your phone back down on the table. You went to go take another bite of your waffles, only to be met with stray bits of whipped cream and waffle crumbs. How disappointing.

“You have time to get ready then,” she said, finishing up the last bit of her own breakfast. Holding her plate, she got up to go put it in the sink, taking your plate for you as well. Literally an angel.

Suddenly, she leaned in to sniff you like the weird English professor you had your freshman year and cringed. “You’re gonna need all the time you can get. You stink.”

Never mind, not an angel.

Grumbling and cursing under your breath, you got off the stool to go take a shower. “And here I was about to offer to get you something for lunch while I was out.”

“A burger from the joint I like would be nice. So would a Coke and side of onion rings.”

“Size?”

“Medium for both.”

You would’ve caved in and bought her something, anyways. Might as well know what she wanted in the first place.

Showering took longer than expected. Most of your time got wasted by you standing under the shower stream and soaking in all the warmth. It wasn’t until Mikasa knocked on the door asking you not to use up all the hot water that made you actually start going through your routine.

The clock read 10:09 when you got out. You still had more time to kill until Eren came, so you elected to sit on your bed in your towel to scroll through social media. At 10:45, you started to get ready for real now.

Your makeup was just enough to cover any imperfections on your face, and your outfit cute enough for a lunch outing with your friend-fuckbuddy.

At 11:50, you stepped out into the living room with your belongings in hand to lounge around while you waited for Eren. You would’ve gone to bug Mikasa, but she had just stepped into the shower minutes prior.

12 on the dot, a rhythmic knocking was rapped on your door, meaning Eren was finally here. Skipping over to the door, you opened it to reveal him while slipping on your shoes.

“Hey,” he grinned when the door opened. He leaned in to give you a kiss on the lips after you’d straightened up from putting on your shoes.

A grin found its way on your lips during the kiss. It only lasted a couple of seconds, ending with you pulling away with a quiet smack. “Hi,” you greeted back.

“Ready to go?” he asked, one hand leaving his jacket pocket to jut his thumb down the hallway towards the elevators.

“Yup, ready,” you said. Over your shoulder, you yelled into the apartment to say goodbye to Mikasa and locking the door once you closed. “Okay, ready for real now.”

There was a new hot pot restaurant near campus, Eren told you, that he so desperately wanted to try. He overheard some people talking about the place in his Stats class, and he’s been wanting to go ever since.

“So, about what I told you last night,” he said, leaning on the table close to you after giving your orders to the waitress. “You said you would help me get Mina.”

“I said it was a bad idea,” you countered, taking a sip of your drink.

“But you said you would help me. For a price.”

“That I… did say,” you sighed. “What’s your plan?”

Smiling, he opened up his jacket and dug into the inner pockets, getting out a small notepad and a pen. Your eyebrows raised at the sight of them. “Okay,” he started, flipping through his notepad. “So I was thinking about it this morning, and this is what I have down so far.”

Sliding it towards you, he waited impatiently for you to read what he had.

Your lips pursed to prevent giggled from leaving your lips. Well, it was a plan, alright. Written in Eren’s chicken scratch of handwriting were a few very simple steps.

eren yaegers fool proof plan to get bitches get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. talk to mina to get her interested in you ✓ 2. get hot girl ((Y/N)) to pretend to be your gf and show you can be a good bf 3. get mina jealous so she wants you even more and not poopy thomas wanker 4. “break up” with (Y/N) and pretend to be sad 5. get mina to comfort you 6. get bitches make mina your gf 7. pay (Y/N) for her services 8. ta-da!

When you looked up from the notepad, you saw Eren waiting for your answer. “Well? What do you think? Is it any good?” he asked.

“Were you high when you wrote this?” was the first thing you asked him. Eren shook his head innocently. “You’re 100% serious?” He nodded.

You bit your lip, deep in thought about Eren’s supposedly fool proof plan. “What makes you think it’s gonna work?”

“I know girls and how they act. If Paradis University let me major in women -- don’t get smart with me I don’t mean Women Studies -- I would be passing all my classes with flying colors. I know it’ll work, trust me,” he said cockily, leaning back in his chair.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. I know you. I know everything about you, (Y/N). I even know how to make you scream my name in--”

“Okay!” you cut him off, not wanting the strangers around you to know the intimate details of your sex life with Eren. “Okay.”

“I knew you were gonna do that. See, I do know women.”

A moment or two passed, both of you staring at each other. You with a deadpan expression, and him with a proud one. You were the first one to break the silence with a heavy sigh. “Okay, say I agree to this. What do I get in return?”

“Anything you want,” he said. “Within reason, of course. Please don’t ask me to like, hide a body or something.”

Ignoring his last comment, you continued speaking, “You’re not allowed to back out of whatever I ask you to, right? If this plan fails or succeeds, you still owe me whatever you promised.”

Eren nodded. “Of course. I swear on it.” He shifted a little so his elbow was on the table, holding out a pinky. Instinctively, you held out your pinky as well and intertwined the both of them. Pinky promises were something you and Eren had been doing for years now. It meant that the other was dead serious on their promise.

The waitress came back with your broth and dipping ingredients, setting them on the table for you right when your pinkes left each other. Thanking the waitress, the two of you talked some more while you waited for the broth to heat up.

“We should make it official. With a contract and set of rules,” he said. “Like that one movie you forced me to watch with you. The Boys I Loved or some shit like that.”

“To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before,” you corrected.

“Yeah, that. They’re kinda doing something like us, yeah?”

“Guess so,” you shrugged, picking up your chopsticks and a sice of pork belly when the broth started to boil. “After we eat though.”

Idle chatter was shared between the two of you as you ate. Even though you saw each other nearly every day, you never ran out of things to talk to. You could be talking about complete nonsense or how quantum physics made no sense, and you would still have the best time of your life.

By now, the broth had been drunk up and the table had been cleared out to be replaced with banana milk and ice cream. Eren brought out his notepad again to write down the set of rules for your fake relationship while enjoying your desserts.

Good progress had been written so far on the notepad. Both of you had given input and criticism on each rule made. In the end, you finally had a good set of rules written down.

(Y/N) and erens contract and rules for eren yaegers fool proof plan to get mina aka operation rent a gf by eren yaeger 1. act normally. eren and (Y/N) act like a couple already. just double the pda a little more 2. don’t tell anyone about the deal. the more people who believe in the relationship, the more likely it is for the plan to work 3. post each other on ig a lot. maybe add names and a date to bios to make it more believable 4. date night every saturday (go out or just hang out) 5. go to parties together 6. walk each other to class if you can 7. call each other cute pet names 8. after breaking up, the couple act has to stop including the sex 9. DON’T SLIP UP

payment for (Y/N):

Eren tapped a beat on the notepad, reading “payment” over and over again. Eventually he looked up at you, deep in thought. “Have you thought of anything so far?” he asked, clicking the pen to write what you wanted.

This was a tough decision. Eren was ready to give you anything to help him get Mina. You had to be wise and pick something big to take advantage of him. Something you were sure you wouldn’t ever regret getting.

“How about,” you started, trailing off, “you do my laundry for the rest of our time at ParadisU, buy me lunch every Wednesday even after we break up, recommend that godsend of a tutor you keep gatekeeping to help me too, and…”

“And?” Eren asked, looking up from his writing, waiting for your next words.

“All the orgasms I want during our relationship,” you finished, satisfied with what you chose.

“Is that all?” he asked, writing down the last of your words. “That’s a lot.”

“How about I let you know if I wanna add more,” you said. Eren nodded in response. His head hung to look at the notepad again, writing something down. Once he was done, he plaed the pen on the pad and slid it to you.

“Sign it so it’s official,” he instructed.

There were two lines beside each other, one already with Eren’s signature. Without hesitation, you signed your name neatly on the paper, giving the items back to Eren once you were done.

payment for (Y/N): eren has to do the (Y/N)’s laundry for the rest of university, buy her lunch ever wednesday, get tutor to help her and give her as many orgasms as she wants during the course of the relationship

signed x eren yaeger x (y/n) (l/n)

The two of you shook hands when Eren put away his things, to seal the deal again. The waitress came by again to give you the bill and collect your dirty dishes. Eren set down the cash needed to pay along with a tip in the check presenter before the two of you left.

You walked hand in hand back to Erens car before you realized you missed something. “Wait. What do we tell people when they ask how we got together?” you asked, pausing in your tracks.

Eren stopped with you, turning to look at you. “Um, you can say I confessed after lunch, and that this is technically our first date,” he suggested, tugging your hand to walk back to the car.

“Huh. Okay. That works,” you nodded.

The two of you got into the car a little bit past 2:30 in the afternoon, ready to go home. “Wait,” you said again, making Eren pause. “Mikasa wanted a burger from that one joint near our apartment. Could you take me there first?”

Eren smiled and nodded, starting the car. “Of course. Burger with medium Coke and onion rings?”

“How did you know?”

“She always gets that when we go there.”

“Huh… I guess you’re right.”

“When am I not?”

"Always."

taglist - @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag , @lazalee , @countthemoons , @se-va-muriendo-mialma , @liaxxx109 , @prxttyguardian , @jeansbabycake

italic names, it wouldn't let me tag you!

154 notes · View notes

farfromtommy · 4 years

Note

seb being a stepdad to chris' kids or vice versa!

not my gif

a/n: okay this is literally one of the best ideas ever and im so in love with this fic. i think this takes the cake for my favorite fic i’ve written!! this is mildly edited so pls be kind. im so proud of it and hope you guys love it <3

please reblog if you enjoyed reading and and feel free to leave any comments!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of sex, brief mention of medical procedure(s), there might be some language i dont remember

word count: 4,400

masterlist

social media au masterlist

taglist

~~~

Chris has been your best friend since elementary school and all through middle and high school. Everyone knew how close you were to him and how deeply you loved each other. It was never in a romantic sort of way, though. Nobody really understood the relationship you had with him, they just shrugged their shoulders and minded their business.

When Chris told you he wanted to move to New York to follow his dream of being an actor, he asked you to go with him. You shared his love for theatre and the arts and always wanted to see if you could make it as a big-time Hollywood actress. You packed all your things into your tiny car and made your way to New York with your best friend.

You spent your 28th birthday sitting on Chris’s couch with a bottle of tequila and a broken heart. Your boyfriend of 3 years broke up with you on the grounds of you being “such a drag” and “not someone he wants to settle down with any more”. You had planned a life with him. He talked about marrying you and having kids with you just weeks prior. And he had just thrown it all away.

Having gone through almost half of the bottle of tequila already, Chris took the bottle from you and just looked at you with sad eyes. He ran his hand through your hair as you buried your face in your pillow and just cried. You pulled yourself together after a while and willed yourself to sit up and look Chris in the eyes.

“I know I’m kinda drunk right now but Chris, listen to me. Can we make a pact? When we’re both 30 and if we’re both still single and loveless. Let’s have a baby. We don’t have to like… y’know… do it or anything. We can do it through insemination or in a petri dish or however they do it. I’m just- I want to settle down and have kids but I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone else.” You rambled, gesturing wildly with your hands. Chris suppressed a laugh and looked at you like you were crazy. You just looked at him questioningly until he realized this was not the alcohol talking.

“Are you serious? Like, me and you? Having a baby? Seriously?” He pulled himself off the floor and sat on the coffee table in front of you.

“I’m so serious. You can say no, Chris. This is me asking you what you think. I always said that if I don’t have a husband or have been with someone long enough to have a child with them, that I would go to a sperm bank and do it like that. You know how badly I want kids, and I know you want them too.” You moved to the edge of the couch to move closer to him. He stood up and grabbed your hand to help you up. He dragged you towards the kitchen and sat you down at the table, telling you to wait there while he grabbed something. He came back a few moments later with a notebook and a pen.

“Alright, let’s figure this out. We’re going to ask each other questions about this and write down the answers. Any conditions we have we’ll write down, if we can’t agree on them we don’t do it. I know you’re not super sober right now so we can do this now and talk about it again tomorrow.” He wrote ‘Y/L/N - Evans Baby’ along the top. You smiled a bit to yourself and waited for him to talk.

“I don’t want to be just the sperm donor, I want to be involved in everything. From the ultrasound appointments to picking preschools. I also want to be in the room when you’re in labor.” He wrote it down as he was talking and looked up at you. You nodded with a big smile on your face.

“I would want you as involved as possible. We would be co-parenting this hypothetical child. My turn. To keep this from getting messy, we should do it through a clinic. Me in stirrups and your swimmers in a turkey baster. Sex can make things complicated and weird, I don’t want to risk something going wrong between us and then there be a child involved. Insemination isn’t as effective but we can always keep trying if it doesn’t work.” You pulled the notebook towards you and wrote down your condition.

That went on for the rest of the night. You and Chris take turns asking questions about your hypothetical baby. You had filled up pages and pages of notes about what you both want, from how you would decide to tell your families to living arrangements to if you’d circumcise or not if it was a boy.

A little more than 2 years later you and Chris found yourselves at the dining room table of his Boston home again. The notebook you had filled just a few years back right in front of you, along with 5 pregnancy tests. They were face down on the table as you anxiously waited for the timer to go off.

“Alright, Chris. This is it. It’s been 5 minutes, we can flip them over.” You released a shaky breath and stared at the tests right in front of you. Chris grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together. You looked at each other before reaching out to flip over the individual tests. Seeing all 5 of the tests with 2 solid pink lines knocked all the air out of your lungs.

“Oh my god. They’re all positive! Oh my god, Chris!! We’re going to have a baby!” You both jumped out of your seats and jumped around the kitchen before hugging each other and crying. He kept thanking you and kissing the top of your head while you sobbed into his chest, soaking his shirt. There were lots of tears over the next few weeks from you both after confirming your pregnancy with your midwife.

8 or so months later Penelope Elizabeth Evans-Y/L/N made her way into the world and the arms of her parents. The world seemed to stop when you heard the cries of your daughter for the first time. You could’ve sworn Chris stopped breathing the second he laid eyes on her when she was placed on your bare chest. He didn’t even care that she was covered in blood and other bodily fluids, he swore that she was the most beautiful human being to ever exist.

He took a lot of time off from filming and working to take care of you both. Once you found out you were pregnant, you stopped acting for the most part. You knew that you wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, at least until she was old enough to go to school, and maybe then you’d go back to smaller roles that kept you close to home.

Chris had a hard time leaving you and Penny once it was time to go back to work. He held her close to his chest and cried at the thought of leaving her when she’s still so little. Seeing the extreme separation anxiety he was already having, you offered to go with him to set and find an apartment or house to rent for the duration of the shoot. This ended up being the greatest thing you could have come up with. Every single project that took him away from Boston, you and Penny were right there next to him. You and Penny followed him to what seemed like every corner of the Earth.

The weeks leading up to shooting The Winter Soldier were the most exciting for Chris. He had been training for months to get into shape and was really excited to have you and Penny on set with him. He had also been talking nonstop about working with Sebastian and Anthony again.

One night Chris came home with Sebastian and Anthony trailing behind him. Penny had gone down for the night and you were nursing a glass of wine on the recliner, watching whatever you could find on TV.

“Hey, Y/N. I should've called ahead, I’m sorry. We’re just going to have some beers while we watch the game.” He walked in and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. You moved the blankets off your lap and stood up to greet Anthony and Sebastian.

“I don’t think you ever got a chance to meet these guys before. Y/N this is Anthony and Sebastian, guys this is Y/N.” Chris introduced you and you moved forward to give them both hugs.

“Sorry for barging in on you unannounced, we would’ve made sure this idiot called you before to make sure it was all good,” Anthony said, taking the beer Chris handed him.

“Oh please, don’t worry about it. He used to do it all the time when we lived in New York. Sorry, the place is a bit of a mess. Didn’t get a chance to clean today, I’ve had my hands full, especially with this one” You gestured a thumb to Chris and he sent you a playful glare in return.

You offered to put together some snacks for the game, knowing very well Chris couldn’t handle his alcohol without some sort of food in his system. Anthony and Sebastian offered to help while Chris snuck off to go see Penny.

“How long have you and Chris been together?” Sebastian made some small talk while looking for serving bowls in your kitchen. Anthony leaned against the counter and continued to sip on his beer.

“Oh, we’re not together. We’ve been friends since we were kids and we actually are just uh...” You chuckled nervously, not knowing what to say to his friends. Chris walked into the kitchen with Penny in his arms at that moment. Her head tucked into his neck, hands gripping at the fabric of his shirt and his arms under her butt.

“We’re raising our daughter together. They go with me wherever I go so I don’t miss anything and so Y/N doesn’t raise Penelope by herself. We’re co-parenting in the same house.” He said, looking at the tired toddler in his arms. Sebastian and Anthony both sputtered on their beers at the same time, not believing what they were seeing.

There was no denying that she was a product of you and Chris. Even with her sleepy eyes, they could see the bright blue color that matched the man carrying her. They saw the swoop of your nose and the color of your hair. They stood there just taking it all in.

“I had a bit of a crisis when I turned 28 after my long term boyfriend dumped me out of nowhere. It was one of those ‘if we’re 30 and aren’t married’ sort of things. We turned 30 and were both still single, so we had a baby.” You shrugged, looking over at your girl.

“And it works, being parents without being together but still living together?” Anthony asked, gesturing towards the two of you.

“We had everything figured out before she got pregnant. We had conditions that we both had to agree on before we even got serious about it. We were both very adamant about not doing it the old fashioned way so things didn’t get messy. It took some time to figure out the… terms and conditions I guess.” Chris laughed a little bit. Anthony and Seb nodded in understanding and kept looking at Penny.

“I’m happy for you, man. Seems like you both are really happy. How old is she?” Anthony walked into her line of sight and waved his fingers a bit, trying to get her attention.

“She turned one a couple of months ago.” You said and watched Penny pick her head up and look at Seb and Anthony, inspecting them a bit. Her big blue eyes landed on Sebastian and she stared him down before he gave her a small smile and waved at her. She was a little shy around new people and would usually bury her face in the neck of whoever was holding her.

To your surprise, she leaned away from Chris and moved her hands out to Sebastian. Everyone’s eyes widened as she whined a little bit when he didn’t reach out to grab her. Chris moved closer and told him it was okay and let Penny make herself comfortable in his arms. She buried herself into his neck much like she does with you and Chris, her tiny fists clutching his shirt. Her eyes shut immediately and let herself fall asleep in his arms.

The next few months went on more pleasantly than expected. Chris often had late-night shoots and training, leaving you with Penny most of the day. Anytime he knew he would be home late, he’d send Seb over with dinner or just an extra set of hands to help you with Penny. She knew you were her mama and Chris was her dada, then one day she had her Seba. Anytime you opened the door to let him in with her on your hip, she immediately squealed and started to chant ‘Seba! Seba!’ and didn’t stop until he was holding her.

Sebastian had brought up the idea of taking you to dinner one night to Chris. Even though you were a single adult who could make decisions on your own, he didn’t want to disrespect Chris at all. Chris never saw you as anything more than his best friend, it had always been like that. He was ecstatic when Sebastian brought up the idea of asking you out.

“I’m so serious, Seb. I think it’s a great idea. She talks about you a lot and really loves being around you. She’s going to say yes, I promise. Y/N hasn’t dated since we had Penny, mostly because she’s scared of what someone would think about her living with her childhood best friend who happens to be the father of her child.” Chris told him honestly. You weren’t interested in dating at all since having Penny. Mostly because being a mom was your first and only priority.

Sebastian let out the breath he was holding and ran his fingers through his hair, all of a sudden nervous about asking you to dinner. Chris clapped a hand around his shoulder and gave him a quick pep talk before sending him on his way.

The 2 years between wrapping Winter Soldier and starting Civil War had been interesting, to say the least. Everything Chris did kept him in the states for the most part. You and Penny were still trailing along with him, always loving the things you got to experience as a family.

Sebastian had found his place right in your crazy life. You had been unofficially together after wrapping Winter Soldier. He went off to do his next project and you and Chris spent some time in Boston with your families. You texted him most of the day, and he called at night to talk for a few hours before you went to sleep. He always said goodnight to Penny and she blew her Seba kisses through the phone.

He flew to Boston a bunch of times to see you, even if it was only for a few hours. You flew to wherever he was for a few days at a time, most of the time with Penny. Chris somehow managed to get you on the plane by yourself a few times and promised he would FaceTime every single night and would have hourly pictures sent.

On one of your first weekend trips out to see him, he refused to let you leave without making it official with you. He had you in tears at the end of his ‘I can’t spend another second without calling you my girlfriend’ speech. When he proposed to you he had said that the only thing better than the girlfriend speech was the one he was about to give. His ‘I can’t spend another second without calling you my wife’ speech knocked that one out of the water.

Neither of you wanted to make a big fuss about a wedding. You weren’t interested in the big white dress and the stressful bridesmaids and the whole cliche wedding things. Sebastian suggested getting eloped somewhere quiet with a handful of the most important people in your life. Chris’s mom, Lisa, had offered to hold the ceremony in her backyard. Knowing very well how spacious and beautiful it was, you and Seb graciously accepted her offer.

You kept your dress simple yet elegant, a beautiful white lace dress that ended mid-thigh, and complimented your body so perfectly. Seb kept it classy with a dark blue suit and light blue button-up that brought out his eyes, no tie, because who needs one?

Right at the end of the ceremony right as the officiant was about to have you say ‘i do’, you heard whines coming from Penny, who was sitting right up front on her daddy’s lap. You looked over to see her squirming in his lap and whining out ‘mama’ and reaching out for you. Chris made eye contact with you and mouthed ‘i’m sorry’. You shook your head and let go of one of Sebastian’s hands to motion to let her go so she could walk over to you.

Everyone aww’d as she walked over to you as quickly as her legs could take her. You bent down and scooped her up, resting her on your hip and wrapping your arm around her waist to keep her up. Sebastian made faces at her to make her laugh and keep her happy for a few more minutes. Your photographer had taken advantage of the incredibly sweet moment and had made sure to get as many shots of Penny at the altar with you.

When the officiant pronounced you husband and wife, you were going to set Penny down but Sebastian was quick to pull you both close to him and go in for your first kiss as a married couple with your daughter right there. Everyone cheered and Penny was mimicking the claps of everyone around her. Before he pulled away from you two he pressed two sloppy kisses on Penny’s cheeks as she giggled, which pulled some tears out of you.

No more than 15 people were attending the ceremony. You wanted to keep it quiet with just family and a few close friends. The reception, however, was anyone and everyone you could fit into the ballroom you had rented at one of the best hotels in Boston. All your guests had filled the room before you and Seb arrived. You nervously held his hand as you heard the cheers from everyone inside after hearing the DJ announce “Ladies, gentlemen, and nonbinary friends … let’s give it up for the couple of the hour, Mr. and Mrs. Sebastian Stan!!”

No one understood how you, Chris, and Seb managed to make your situation seem so easy and flawless. He knew that living in Boston was a must, so he bought the house that sits right behind the one you shared with Chris for so many years. He never wanted to get in the way of the system you and Chris had created over the years. Somehow, he managed to make things easier for everyone.

Penny’s first day of school was emotional for all 3 of you. You were all at your front door taking pictures of Penny in her school uniform that she looks so ridiculously cute in and the backpack that was way too big for her. She insisted on getting the Avengers backpack that “has my daddy on it!”

“Okay my love, it’s time for us to go to school! Are you ready?” Chris grabbed her tiny hand and led her to the car.

“Yeah daddy, I’m ready!” Penny said as he lifted her into the car and her car seat.

“Daddy? Mama and Sebbie coming too?” She asked him when he clicked the last buckle together. Right on cue Sebastian opened up the door to the free seat in the back and climbed in right next to her. She squealed in excitement at the sight of Sebastian buckling himself in the car.

Chris laughed at her genuine excitement and made sure all her fingers and toes were inside the car before shutting the door. He saw you lock the front door and make your way to the front seat. He noticed you put a few packs of tissues in your bag before setting it on the ground and buckling your seatbelt.

“Planning on crying today, Y/N?” Chris asked in a teasing tone. You swatted his arm lightly and scoffed at his question.

“Our baby is going to her first day of school, of course, I’m going to cry! I cried last night after I tucked her in, I cried in the shower this morning, I cried doing her hair.” You heard Seb talking enthusiastically to Penny, telling her about all the fun things she’ll get to do in kindergarten.

“It’s okay, I cried in the bathroom while she ate her waffles this morning.” You snorted at Chris’s confession and looked back at your baby girl, who was not a baby anymore. She was waving her hands around telling Seb about how excited she was to see her teacher again.

Chris and Sebastian watched from the car as you walked through the front doors of the school with Penny’s hand in yours. They had agreed that it might not have been a good idea to go in with her since they might get recognized and to avoid causing a ruckus. They both waved at her as she turned around and waved one more time before the door shut.

“Did you and Y/N ever think about having more kids together? If I hadn’t started dating her, do you think you would've had more?” Sebastian asked Chris.

“We never explicitly talked about it. She brought up wanting Penny to have lots of siblings not long after you started seeing each other. She felt guilty and thought that I was going to be upset about you and her maybe having kids one day, which meant I probably wouldn’t have anymore. I told her that this was honestly the best thing that could’ve happened because I don’t think I want any more of my own. Penny is all I ever wished and hoped for, and I got it. But since you’re together, she’ll get all the siblings she could ever want, and I won’t have to change a single diaper.” Chris nudged Seb’s shoulder with his. “You guys thinking about having one?”

“Yeah... Yeah, we are.” Sebastian lowered his head and smiled a bit. “With Penny in school and everything, it makes sense. She’s ready, I’m ready.” Seb sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He looked up and saw you walking back towards them with a tissue in your hand.

“I had the morning crying shift, it’s your turn.” Seb looked at Chris.

Just as Penny wrapped up her very first year in school, you and Sebastian welcomed Beverly Olivia Stan-Y/L/N into your family. Penelope had been so excited to hear that her mama finally had the baby she had been waiting so long for. You had gone into labor in the late afternoon and Beverly made her debut in the middle of the night.

Sebastian had called Chris an hour or so after to let him know that both you and the baby were doing phenomenally and that you were asking for Penny and wanted to see her as soon as you could. Chris chuckled at the demands you were making, knowing very well how the epidural and pain meds messed with you.

Early the next morning Penny had crawled into bed with Chris, crying for you and wanting to know when she was going to see you. It was still too early for them to go to the hospital, so he called Seb in hopes that he was already going to be awake.

A very exhausted Sebastian lit up the screen and Chris heard the soft cries of the new baby in the background. Penny’s cries turned into hiccups as soon as she saw Seb’s face because she knew she would be able to see her mama, too.

“Sebbie can I see mama, please?” Penny’s little voice spoke up. Sebastian immediately handed the phone to you and whispered that Penny was on the phone.

“Hi, baby.” You spoke softly to not disturb the baby.

“Mama when you come home? I miss you.” Penny wiped her eyes with her fists to get rid of the tears stuck in her eyelashes.

“It’s going to be a few days until I get to go home, baby. But you and daddy will be able to come to see me, Sebbie, and the new baby in a few hours. You need to go back to sleep and be a good girl for your daddy. I’m sure he’ll let you have some cuddles in his bed with him and Dodger until it’s time to wake up again.” Penny hiccuped and looked at Chris with eyes that mirrored his. He nodded his head and she buried herself closer to him.

“Okay, I go back to sleep with daddy and Dodger. I love you, mama. I love Sebbie, too.” She yawned out, her eyes blinking with sleep.

“Me and Sebbie love you so much, Penny. We’ll see you so soon, I promise” You blew a kiss to her through the screen and waited for her to throw one back. She giggled when you caught it through the camera and put it over your heart.

You, Sebastian, and Chris all watched with tears in your eyes as Penny held her baby sister for the first time. Penny had jumped right up in the bed next to you the second she walked into the room and told you about all the fun she had with Chris. Seeing your girls together melted your heart into a puddle. Chris couldn’t believe his little girl was so grown up and was a big sister. Seb thought about the night he first met you and Penny and would’ve never imagined that he’d be right here at this very moment.

Everything was so perfect and you never wanted to imagine your life being any different.

848 notes · View notes

alaricstories · 4 years

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How some BNHA boys is your secret admirer!

As my firAs my first ever post here, I asked my dearest friend what she wanted. So she asked me if I could do Todoroki, Bakugou, and Kirishima as a secret admirer! And of course, I can do that, so here we are!

To this I took something into use: Todoroki’s ability to heat things up, Bakugou’s cutting skills, and Just little, lovely, manly Kirishima.

TODOROKI SHOUTO

I can imagine Todoroki asking his sister for help- or just googling what to do to impress you-

Anyway!

You are always the earliest in the common room, and that gives you time alone to sit down on the couch and read, being on your phone, and whatever you feel like in peace.

You can do this in your room too, but you find the common room more relaxing. You like sitting on the sofa with soft back-support more than leaning onto the wall when you are on your bed.

But one day you find a cup standing on a yellow post-it-note with your name on it.

When you arrive at the common room there is already a cup on your desk. There is no writing on the note to let you know who the buyer, but your name is there. You couldn't tell what drink it was by the looks of it, but yet one sniff tells you it's your favorite - hot chocolate. You sink into your chair and peer around. Hardly anyone is here yet (only you) so no-one can look your way or acknowledge you at all.

You turn your attention back to the cup. It's a venti, tall, frothy, and still hot. You want to resist it until you know the giver, but without conscious thought, it is in your hand and the first milky sip creeps over your taste-buds and down your throat. After only a few minutes you are bathing in the kick of the chocolate taste.

You walk around looking for the one who made it while you take a few sips at a time. No-one is near you.

Not long after the time for finding your benefactor has passed, your classmates were already starting walking into the room. So you put down what you were doing with the cup in one hand, a big smile on your face. Until it's drained it will be within an easy arms reach.

Whoever did this, you would cherish the fact that they woke up early to make it and knew when you would arrive since it was still warm. They knew your routine.

And it didn’t stop

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

The same as the one over:

You are always the earliest in the common room, and that gives you time alone to sit down on the couch and read, being on your phone, and whatever you feel like in peace

You can do this in your room too, but you find the common room more relaxing. You like sitting on the sofa with soft back-support more than leaning onto the wall when you are on your bed.

One day you find a box with the sentence "Y/n. Eat and leave it" written with a black felt-tip pen on the lid.

You walk over to the counter, looking down at the box. You grab the lid and slowly lift it off the box where it reveals a nice chopped up fruit salad. Your favorite fruits cut into pieces and squares, the colors of the fruits mixed so well together - beautiful.

Since it was for you, you start eating and tasting the different fruits in the box. The flavors you taste are fruity, sweet, and juicy, with a little bit of acidity. You bite into one of these plump and juicy berries and you get a big burst of sweetness in your mouth.

A satisfied sound leaves your mouth as you take another bite. "Y/n? What are you doing?" You turn around to see Mina standing there with a confused and curious look on her face.

"Somebody made this for me." You answer with a smile as you swallow it down. You pull her closer to you and make her taste it too.

She agrees with you, and then the teasing begins. "Ooh~ who is it from Y/n? They must be interested in you!"

The class walks in all the girl's towers over you as well as Kaminari. The overwhelming feeling of heat strikes your body as you realize YOU MAY HAVE AN ADMIRER! or something like that-

You carefully scan all of your classmate's moves now and then with the help of Momo and Mina. When none of you found something in some days, and the fruit thing stopped. You gave up.

But not long after you gave up, it started again.

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

You woke up in your bed feeling the warmth of your sheets. You gathered together and felt that you would just lie there for the rest of the day.

But then there was school. So you got dressed and went over to the door. When you opened the door, a note slipped in and glided over the wooden floor of your room.

You looked outside, but no-one was there. The note must have placed in the gab of the door.

You turned and picked up the note from the ground. The note was a simple folded piece of paper with a red heart made with a marker. None of the lines were perfect but you noticed perfection in the folding.

You open it to reveal some scribbled words. You run your eyes over the paper a few times before you can assure yourself your reading it right.

"I can't always explain my feelings the way I want you to understand them. Sometimes when we talk, there are so many beautiful and intense emotions, that flow in and out of my soul for you, yet the words as I say them never seem to allow those feelings and emotions to touch you..."

You read it over and over as you slowly realized the person who wrote this has feelings for you. The heat rises in your cheeks as you tighten your grip on the paper.

You slowly closed the door to your room, and headed for the common room. The rest of the class sat there doing different things while others discussed topics. You didn't know where to go since the school didn't start soon.

That was before Mina swang an arm around your neck, grabbing the paper from your hand. "What's that?" She pointed the girls over as she tried to read what it said.

You had to explain to them the thought that it was kind of a confession in your opinion. They burst out of happiness and all of them started to stare at the class. ALL OF THEM.

You just wanted to hide when you spotted Kirishima sweetly smiling at you. Okay- so he was good at acting and hiding in the crowd of non-suspects. But now it was very- VERY obvious.

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

Daffodil dreams✾yandere!kth

| RP with 🍁anon | Header by:🍁anon ♡ | CLICK ME FOR PART TWO ✾ 18+ ✾ xtremity; 7 ✾ pairing: Murder suspect!Yandere!Taehyung x Therapist!F ✾ word count: 16.8k ✾ warnings: mental illness, mentions of murder, hand fetish, oral, forceful facefucking, dubcon themes, sadistic/manipulative/possessive!Tae, masochistic!therapist, mentions of medication for mental illness, cursing, degrading dirtytalk, rough smut, unprotected sex.

‘’Taehyung, you didn't lose control. You chose to control me instead..." And he damn well took sick pleasure from the crazed look in his eyes.

“I’m not bad.” He convinced himself of this. He wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t the person in the case files. That was somebody else inside of him.

Flashing her access card to open the door of the secured interrogation room, the doctor nods at the guard outside before stepping in. If things were to turn sour at any point, he'd step in as intervention.

Once the door closes, she takes a moment to assess her latest patient— accused of double murder, yet to be proven guilty even if circumstantial evidences were against him, Kim Taehyung. Her report on his mental state will be the determinant in his case at this rate. Moving closer towards him, she greets him by introducing herself. "Hello, Taehyung!"

Taehyung sat with his hands clasped together, eyes in his lap as someone walks in. As soon as he hears their greeting though, he slowly gazes up at her, a cautious look on his face. ‘‘Hello.’‘

Placing her tiny folder of contents and her notepad on the table, she takes the chair across from him with a formal smile. "I'll be your therapist till the case gets resolved in the court which can be anywhere between a few days to many months! We're together in this until then." She tells him in an honest voice. It would be better to ease him into the sessions and gain his trust before she could delve deeper into his mind. Deciding to keep it simple, "How are you feeling today? Did you sleep well?"

Taehyung fiddled with his fingers, avoiding eye contact, but he’s responsive enough, “I’m good.. I slept okay.” He nodded, as if confirming his own words.

"I'm glad you're feeling good. We'll see what we can do about the sleep issues you have..." She says, observing how he avoided her eyes and takes her note to record it in. But before she does, "You don't mind if I take notes, do you?" She asks to confirm. Some of her patients hated it when she paid more attention to her notebook than them. She'd switch to a taping device in that case. "Have you seen any other therapists before me, Taehyung— it's okay if I called you by your name, right?"

It took Taehyung a long moment before he responded, eyes moving back up to look at her, this time more observing, “You’re my first...” he keeps his eyes on her, an unreadable expression on his face as he nods, confirming the usage of his name.

She flashes him a genuine smile when she finds his eyes upon her. That was rather a very quick improvement in her books. Nodding her head at him, she notes it all down, from his words to his gestures— everything. So no one even suspected he might have been mentally disturbed until the incident itself. Interesting. "In that case, I'm going to make sure I'm helping you the best way I can!" She promises him with a look before going for her next question. "Tell me more about yourself, Taehyung... It can be anything?" She'd get to know him from his own point of view before making her judgement.

Taehyung looked around the room, as if in thought, leaning back in his chair as his eyes finally land on the painting hanging behind her. He stares at it for a long moment, zoning out as he’s looking at it.

She patiently waits for him to speak up, silently taking in his features. He looked rather young, just about her age or even younger. Lucious curls, sharp jaws, almond eyes framed by full lashes— he was nothing short of gorgeous. And then there was this innocence in his eyes that makes her pause. Could he have really murdered two people in cold blood? Noticing his attention elsewhere, she turns behind her to see the painting on the wall. "So... You like art? Do you paint often?" If he wouldn't talk, then she just had to ask more questions to keep him speaking.

Taehyung rocked back and forth, a very vague movement, barely noticeable unless anyone paid attention. He nodded, his eyes flickering to her before focusing on the painting once more, a short but clear response rolling off his lips, “Sometimes..”

Her eyes keenly track each of his movements, including how he seemed to not stay as still as he had when their session began. She hums at his words. Maybe she could bring some art supplies to one of their future sessions? But for now, "I'm a fan of surrealism. It feels like there's something about the unexpectedness it brings to everyday subjects... Dali is one of my favourite artists!" She comments, her eyes lighting up brightly as she speaks about something she likes. "Do you prefer someone's art works in particular?"

Taehyung kept rocking back and forth, he was slowly starting to become a little bit more responsive, taking a few seconds less to answer this time, “Van Gogh.” His lips twitched ever so slightly at the thought of his art, his gaze focusing back down at his lap.

"Van Gogh?" There's a flare of recognition in her gaze, that is more than just knowing the famous artist's name. She was well versed in his life history too— especially his mental illness that made him take his own life. Taehyung taking less time than before to respond with his name was mildly alarming. But she keeps her cool, and her smile intact. "I have a copy of his Almond Blossom in my home." She mentions as she makes more notes, "What is it about Gogh that impresses you, Taehyung?"

Taehyungs eyebrows raise vaguely when she mentions that she owns such a piece of art. His eyes now travells down to focus on the notepad in her lap. But this time he didn’t respond.

She gives him a whole minute before looking up at him, only to find his gaze focused on her lap. "Would you like to write... Or maybe sketch instead?" She tears off the page she had been writing in and passes the notepad to him with another pen. "Is there a particular painting of Van Gogh that you like so much?" She tries again hoping he'd feel motivated enough to answer her or even write it down.

He moved slowly when he grabbed the pen and notepad, putting it in his lap as he quietly scribbled something down. When he finished, he put it back on the table along with the pen, pushing it over the table towards her so she could take a look at what he had written down. “Through his pain, came beauty. His art.” Along with a smaller note, “irises," which was a painting by the artist. It was a painting of Irises that suggests cautious optimism. The bouquet of blue irises, shadowed in violet in an ocher vase against a yellow background, reveals his continuing pursuit of what he called 'the color question' and nature always offered the true revelation.

When he leaves the pad back on the table, she peeks over to see what he had written. "Irises?" She whispers under her breath. There were two paintings of Gogh's with the said flowers. One, speaking of a life without tragedies and the other, a still life painting of the flowers in a vase he used for studying colours, both of them he did in the asylum. Tracing his words about the artist himself with her eyes she asks in a softer tone, "Did you know there's two different paintings of irises?"

Taehyung nods, however not clarifying his answer. His mind seemed to drift away after the mention of the paintings, but his body seemed slightly more relaxed as he was no longer rocking himself back and forth.

She leans back on her chair and keeps talking when he doesn't respond more than a nod. "I prefer the first one, the painting with the irises he did in the garden. There is this sense of hope about it..." As if he had hoped to get better in the hospital. Taking one more look at his note, she presses an elbow to the table and props her chin upon her palm as she tries to get his attention back on her. "Does his pain inspire you, Taehyung?"

His lips part as if he’s about to speak, but he closes his mouth again, one hand moving up to brush his curls away from his eyes, that were now back on the doctor. He made eye contact, and gave her a vague nod, a quiet whisper rolling off his lips as he quoted the artist, “Art is to console those who are broken.”

She blinks, the motion of his hand breaking her transfixed gaze upon him. But soon he reels her back with his eyes, that now rested upon hers with a sense of ease. She leans a little further across the table to catch his whisper, which gives her a pause. As much as she wanted to go on track and ask more about the artist he seemed to idolise, she chooses a personal question instead. "Do you consider yourself broken then?" It comes out equally quiet, her eyes focused unblinkingly upon him.

Taehyung shrugged, then broke into a soft smile before countering her question with one of his own, “Aren’t we all broken in one way or another?”

Her eyes soften at the first sign of his smile, her own lips quirking up to mirror it. Moving back with a mellowed laughter at his question, "True, we all are! You got me there." She admits, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "So, what is your story then? Why do you think you're broken?" With her head tilted to the side, she might resemble a curious cat. There's an urge to get to know him more now that goes beyond the need for this case. But she brushes it off to analyse it later when she wasn't on the clock.

Taehyung observes her for a moment, he’s starting to feel a little more comfortable with his therapist. Her smile made him feel something, but he couldn’t quite place it as of yet. For the first time in a long time, he’s enjoyed somebody’s company. He didn’t want the session to end. “My story... isn’t very unique. I had a happy life... simple.” He presses his lips together as he nodded, confirming his own words before looking at her again, hands clasped together in his lap, “What about you?”

"Had?" She notes the past tense of his words before blinking back in surprise when he asks her about her story. "I'm... still writing my story. Everyday, as it goes. My story is about finding a purpose for your life to be happy again!" She reiterates gently, her notes laying long forgotten on her lap with her attention completely on him now and their conversation. "Everyone's story is different from each other, Taehyung. But why would you think your happy life ended? What about your life now?"

Taehyung stares at her as he takes in her words. Her purpose was for him to find happiness? That sounded crazy... it sounded almost... like she cared about him. He leaned forward, as if he's trying to get a closer look at her. "Well, I am held in custody... and will be for a while it seems. Wouldn't you feel unhappy in my situation?" Once again, he counters her questions with his own, as if it was a little game. But it was obvious that he was starting to enjoy this, becoming more responsive to her, whether it gives her clear answers or not.

"Which is 'where' I come in." She air quotes in response to his question. "Anyone would he unhappy in this situation. You'll be held here until they can find a solution to this case. Don't you want to be happy again, Taehyung?" Her tone is beseeching as she hides her surprise at how easy it was to get him to talk when his previous interrogators claimed otherwise. "I can help you with that! But you'll have to help me in return. I want you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?"

Taehyung leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes still fixed on the woman as if he's observing her. He doesnt answer, but he nods.

Even without his verbal confirmation, she still considers it a minor victory when he agrees to be truthful. Giving him another one of her genuine smiles as if in reward, "We can take this one step at a time. And if you're uncomfortable with anything I say or ask, feel free to stop me immediately, okay?" She bends her head slightly, looking up at him through her lashes to see if he understood her before proceeding. "You're aware that you're kept in custody. But do you know why you're here?"

Taehyung's gaze travels to look down once again, a soft sigh escaping his lips. However another nod was the only response she got. He wasn't feeling very verbally responsive for this topic, knowing all words can and would be used against him, whether he was guilty or not.

When he breaks their eye contact, she withdraws back with a deep exhale. She knew she was pushing him beyond his comfort zone. But from every information she gathered from him so far, her gut feeling told her he was innocent. Even the devil was an angel before he fell though. "Taehyung," She calls his name out softly. "We're almost at the end of our session today. I have one last question for you before I leave. Do you think you deserve to be kept here for whatever the reason you're in here for?"

His gaze slowly moved to look at her hands, keeping his arms wrapped over his chest as if he's hugging himself. It takes a long minute before he shrugs. He knows he's been vague, but he wasn't sure. And he felt a little disappointed that the session was over already, he was beginning to enjoy her company. She was the first person since he was taken in to actually talk to him as a person, and not simply pinpoint him as a murderer.

Clicking her tongue quietly at his shrug, she slumps back into her chair when he gives her no clear answer once again. There was a prompt knock on the metal door, signaling the end of their session.

"You did so good, Taehyung." She tells him with a soft smile as she stands up to gather her things, including the notepad. "I'll be back tomorrow. And I'll see if I can request for an additional hour. If we work well together like today, I'll soon be able to help you find your happiness again, hm?"

He feels his chest flutter at the doctor's praise, another foreign feeling to him. As she stand up, his eyes follow her with the utmost observation of her every movement and word. His lips curl up in a small smile as he nods, "Okay." He didn't want the session to end, but he was already looking forward to tomorrow. Now, as soon as he was no longer alone with her, his expressions fade back into being a blank canvas— no expression at all.

Now more than ever, she believes he was being framed for the murders. And even if he was guilty, she'd help him get his Not Criminally Responsible verdict if it ever came to that, she decides. He definitely had underlying mental health issues for certain, she just needed more medical proof. Sending an email out to his defence attorney and the institution, she rests easy that night when they approve her request for extended sessions.

Taehyung had barely slept that night, staring at the ceiling of his isolated room as he processes everything she said. She'd asked him questions about art, and the way her knowledge surprised him made him curious about her. The way she told him that her purpose was to find his happiness, made him happy... no one's ever said that to him before, and he started to feel a small infatuation with his therapist.

He reminded himself to be cautious, however, it had only been one session after all. But his heart fluttered at the thought of seeing her again. Would her hair look different? Would she wear something pretty? All these things whirled through his mind until he managed to get a fractured amount of sleep before the guards woke him up for his next session. He slowly sauntered over, hair a curly mess, bags under his eyes.

The next day, she's back in the room before him for their new session. She had forgone her coat, favouring a simple blouse and skirt as it was summer. The door opens and she stands up with a bright smile. "Hello, Taehyung!" One look at his cuffed arms and she sends a pointed glare at the guard who takes it off with a roll of his eyes. Once the guard leaves, she takes a step towards Taehyung, almost as if to push his hair back, but drops her hands halfway and goes back to the table. "Did you sleep well last night?" She asks him, her smile simmered down as he takes his seat.

Taehyung rubs his wrists when the cuffs are removed, nodding uncomittedly at her question as he slowly strolls over to his seat, ‘’Somewhat,’’ He didn’t lie, but also didn’t want to tell her he barely slept, but the doctor's eyes were sharp, and the dark circles under his eyes were prominent even if they were half hidden underneath his bangs. He ran his hands through his hair as if to calm down the bedhead he was rocking, lifting up his grey hoodie over his curls.

Nodding at his reply, "Well, I have news for you. Our sessions are going to be two hours long from now. So hopefully we can solve this case quicker!" She says with a smile, looking up from her notes only for her lips to turn down in a frown at his red eyes and visible dark circles beneath them despite his attempt to hide it all behind his bangs. "Is there a particular reason you didn't sleep well last night?" She asks him in a crisp tone, giving no room for anymore vague answers. "If something's bothering you, you can tell me, you know?"

Taehyung felt a rush of joy, reminding him of butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the mention of longer sessions. Does that mean she wants to spend more time with him? That’s how he interpreted it, a small smile pulling on his lips. It made him more responsive, more open to answer her questions. However, it didn’t mean he couldn’t ask some back, ‘’I had a lot on my mind after we spoke,’’ He confesses, tilting his head to the side as his eyes landed on her skirt, slowly roaming up your outfit. She looked so pretty, ‘’I like your clothes.’’ He squinted, observing the small floral patterns adorning her blouse. He was curious about the brand, he did enjoy fashion.

"Oh?" She glances down at herself, giving him another smile at his compliment. "Thank you! It's getting warmer out there. Had to give up my winter clothing." Subtly noting the spark of interest in his eyes at her clothing style, she decides to dig into it later. They had something important to discuss before that. "You said you had lot in your mind last night. May I ask what?" She pulls up a fresh page on her notepad, beginning to write down everything she noticed about him today.

He smiled, arms going back to his default position across his chest, “You.” His eyes moved back to her face, observing her reaction. This could’ve been a bad idea, maybe he should’ve stayed quiet, closed down. But he had to say it. She was special, not just his therapist.

Her writing comes to a sharp halt, and she glances up at him to find him watching her already. Dropping her pen between the pages, she closes the notepad and leaves it on the table before focusing all her attention on him with an unsure smile curling on her lips. "Me? Do you mean you were thinking about the things we spoke about yesterday, Taehyung?" Getting involved with a patient at any emotional level was frowned upon. She hopes he means the latter, for both of their sakes.

Taehyung hesitates, considering whether he should answer with honesty. Will the truth scare her away? Will she stop seeing him? He didn’t want to take the chance, not until he was sure. He internally scolded himself for even telling her, but if he plays his cards right, he could deflect this quickly, continuing with the normal questions. He squints his eyes in a smile, nodding once more as he straightens his posture, ‘’Of course, that’s what I meant.’’

There's a faint sagging of her shoulders in relief despite the niggling feeling of uneasiness pricking at the back of her head. "That's great! But please don't let out conversations disturb your sleep patterns. I like seeing you in better health." She smiles, purposefully adding the last part to see if it'd change his behaviour that night. Sitting a little more relaxed in her chair, "What is it about yesterday that left you sleepless, Taehyung?" Technically, she should begin from where they left off but this could work too.

Taehyung considers her words carefully, and how she kept saying things that seemed so earnest. She would like to see him in better health. Not because a script told her so, but because she cared. He started to believe it, and he couldn’t control the way his feelings slowly grew for her. He crossed one leg over the other, leaning back as he put his hands in his pockets into a more relaxed position, eyes staring at the table as he chewed on his lower lip in a moment of thought, ‘’I thought a lot about... Art.. It was a refreshing conversation compared to all the surface level interrogations they’ve put me through so far. I felt like I was talking to an actual person, and it was... Nice.’’ This was the longest sentence he’s ever given her, even if it didn’t conclude much other than his appreciation for her knowledge.

"I'm glad our talk was thought provoking for you. And I want you to feel normal. I know interrogations here can get bitter. But I'm here to help you find and face the truth, no matter what it is!" Placing both her hands on the table, she presses on it to lean forward and let him see the honesty of her words reflected in her eyes. "We can talk about art again, if you want? Or anything else of your interest? I'm sure we can spare some time before beginning from where we left off yesterday."

Taehyung’s eyes lit up, he finally had an opportunity to know more about her, rather than talk about himself. That’s all he’s done, and he would, for her. But first, he wanted something back, something new to learn. He fiddled with his fingers before clasping them together, ‘’What’s your favourite type of flower?’’ It was an odd question to some, but to him, it mattered. He always loved flowers, and the meanings behind them.

She doesn't miss out on any reactions of his, including how his entire face lights up when she says they could talk about anything other than the case. Little sacrifices, she tells herself with a smile as she leans back in her chair only to pause at his question. "My favourite flower?" She asks again with surprise in her tone to confirm if she heard it right. As he continues to gaze at her with that little excited look of his, she gives in. "Lily of the valley. I love those little bells!"

‘‘Return to happiness.’‘ He states, eyes still fixed on her. Everything really pointed back towards the one thing you keep telling him, to find happiness. To be happy. That she wanted him to be happy. This couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? If it was, it surely was fate. ‘‘The flower is beautiful, attractive... But poisonous.’‘ He continued, as if his statement could have an underlying meaning to it. He stretches his back a little, before returning to a comfortable position, his hands delicately placed in his lap, ‘‘I like daffodils.’‘

"When something is too beautiful to behold, it always comes with a way of protecting itself, doesn't it? Like how roses have thorns, the lilies are poisonous. I only think it's fair." She shrugs, not really worried about how he'd interpret that. By now, she's made up her mind to enjoy the unexpectedness of their conversations until it lasts. "Daffodils? What do they mean?" She might have a little knowledge about art, but not so much about flowers.

Taehyung hums, nodding as he speaks, ‘’Rebirth... New beginnings...’’ He tilts his head to the side, keeping his eyes in his lap as if he’s in thought, ‘’They are the first flower to bloom when the cold, dark winter has passed, as a sign of spring.’’ He pauses to lick his lips, looking up at her with a small smile, ‘’And they smell nice.’’

She nods her head slowly, taking in the meaning of his favourite flowers a little deeper than she should. "New beginnings..." Letting the word roll around her tongue for a moment, she glances up to meet his eyes with an understanding smile. "Is that what you crave right now? A new beginning once this darkness," her gaze flickers to his case file on the table before meeting his again, "—passes, Taehyung? Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. I tend to overthink sometimes."

He felt butterflies burst in his gut when she said his first name so casually, as if they were already close. He enjoyed it, feeling a warmth simmer over him. Taehyung shrugs, ‘’I guess you could say that.’’

"Hm..." She hums, moving forward once again to lean over the table. These chairs weren't exactly comfy, she was sure to get a back pain if she were to sit in it much longer. "And how do you envision this new beginning? Is it going to be similar to the life you lived before? Or maybe you want to move away to a new place and start afresh? I'd do that if I were you, to be honest..." Letting her eyes trace his features carefully, "How different do you want your new life to be from your old?"

Her words seemed to have hit a small trigger, his eyes squinting in thought, the corner of his mouth twitching once, twice. He stared to his left, at nothing, just staring, as if he’s deep within himself for the moment, and his leg starts to bounce restlessly, ‘’It’s already different... But, I don’t know..’’

It was the first time she catches him struggling to express his thoughts that day, immediately knowing his answers would be as vague as their previous session. No, that wouldn't do. "Different because of any thing in particular?" Maybe his guilt? He was yet to answer her last question from yesterday. Seeing how his attention seemed to be elsewhere, she opens her palm on the table. "You can hold my hand if you need something to ground yourself, Taehyung!" She offers without thinking twice.

His eyebrows are drawn together in confusion at her words, until he looks down at her open palm on the table. He didn’t hear everything she said, he only caught when she called his name, and then suddenly, her hand was offered to him. What is this? She wanted him to hold her hand? Was this a test?... Did she like him? Taehyung’s fingers twitched, he slowly raised his hand as if considering to actually hold hers, but he hesitates, looking up at her, ‘‘I can...?’‘

She looks at him with her head slightly bent, urging him on silently with her eyes. "Yes, of course! I want you to hold my hand so you can ground yourself..." She states calmly, curling her fingers in a come hither motion as she smiles at him. It was clear he was lost in his head and if this would help, she was willing to do it for him. "We'll continue our conversation only when you're certain you're back here with me, okay?" Her voice is soft, as if soothing him back into reality.

He shuffles closer to sit on the edge, his large hand slowly wrapping around hers. She felt so delicate in his hand, and his heart skipped a beat. He exhaled through his nose, eyes fixed on the way his long fingers gently closed around her hand.

Carefully, she watches him place his hand upon hers before wrapping it around her dainty one, her gaze flashing up to his face to note his reaction. He seemed... content, for the lack of accurate words to explain the emotion in his eyes. She sits there in silence with his hand in hers, for how long, neither of them care. Smiling again, she softly squeezes the reassuring weight of his hand upon hers. "Feeling better, Taehyung?" She asks him once his eyes move back to rest upon her.

His eyes softened when he felt her squeeze his palm, and he wished this moment could last forever, not ready to ever let go of her. ‘’Can I look at your hand? Closer, I mean...’’

She flexes her fingers in his, knowing what she was doing wasn't exactly ethical in her practice. But he seemed like he needed someone to hold him, and all she could offer was her hand for now. Blinking back at the unexpectedness of his question, she hesitates a brief moment before nodding. "Sure you can... as long as you promise not to bite!" She jests in good nature, even if a part of her wonders why he was asking to look closer.

Taehyung smiles playfully, an eyebrow crooked up at her words. ‘’Deal,’’ he leans forward a little further, both of his hands holding hers. He treats her hands like they are fragile, delicately examining her flat palm facing him before the pads of his fingers trace the lines in her hand, his eyes focused on how soft her skin feels in his hand. To some, it might look like he’s doing some kind of palm reading, but in reality he just... really likes hands. And hers, they were an exquisite sight, and they felt even better.

She laughs faintly at his playfulness, brushing off the little voice in her head questioning her sanity in that very situation. He was only being curious, she told herself— almost like a child. Indulging him would cause no harm! Unless he really was guilty… Sighing at her own internal monologue, she wriggles her fingers again as she smiles up at him. "What are you looking for in my hand, Taehyung? Did you lose something there?"

He doesn’t look up at her, eyes still observing as he grabs her fingers between his index finger and thumb, bending it delicately back and forth, as if he’s fascinated with the way her flesh moves and bends beneath the skin. But to others, it looks like he’s just playing around. He nods before grabbing her hand inbetween both of his large palms, ‘’I just liked how fragile- I mean... I like the way your hand feels. It’s soft.’’

Her eyes still locked on all of his movements, she thinks he might not have heard her from the way he looks lost in examining the workings of her fingers. When he begins speaking again, the word fragile stands out, reminding her of his case file. A cold shiver passes down her spine, but she manages to school her expression before it shows. "It feels so soft because I don't do any of my household chores." Turning one of his hand over, she runs her fingers over it. "See, even yours is soft!"

Her touch ignites a fire beneath his skin, that travels further like a domino effect throughout his entire body. He recognized this feeling, and he wondered whether he should stop this. Stop, and not let this feeling grow. But then, the way her fingers smooth over his skin was almost erotic to him, and he didn’t want her to stop. His mouth parted slightly, a quiet exhale pushing through his lips at the feeling, nodding, ‘’Again.’’

She looks up at him with a stricken expression when he asks to be touched again. But the intensity behind his eyes reels her in without her even being aware of it and she begins tracing his palm longer this time, her touch nothing more than feather soft. "Like this?" Even as she asks, she runs the tip of her nails over each of the lines that crisscross along his palms with little pressure. At the feel of him shuddering, she slowly glances up at him with her lower lip caught between her teeth. "More, Taehyung?"

Taehyung closes his eyes, his chest heaving up and down slowly, but heavily. He licks his lips, focusing so hard on the feeling of your nails across his skin, this fire that he knew too well already taking over his body, as his next words just slip out like a sultry growl, ‘’I want more, you drive me mad...’’

Her breathing is equally hard, the sight of him coming undone at her mere touch all too sensual for her to handle. The entire purpose of her presence there slips from her mind somewhere between them getting lost in each other's hands. She gulps at the sound of raw need behind his growl and slowly loops her fingers through his while her other hand is still mindlessly drawing patterns over the sensitive skin of his palm. "How do you want me, Taehyung?" She dares to ask at last in a softer tone.

His eyes open, an intense gaze meeting hers as he drags his lower lip between his teeth, “I want you... on your knees, right here...” His eyes look down between his now spread apart legs, the obvious bulge leaving little to the imagination through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, “I want your soft hands on me.”

Trapped within his gaze and nowhere to run in the room that was locked from outside, she slowly stands up on trembling feet, throwing a cautious look over her shoulders at the door. This was wrong. So wrong. She keeps thinking despite sinking to her knees between his spread legs. Moving one of her hands to the prominent bulge in his pants, she squeezes it softly while looking up at him through her thick lashes. "Like this?" She squeezes harder again and then rubs over it, repeating her motions.

He gazes down at her with heavy eyes, a small smirk playing on his face as he crooks an eyebrow, licking his teeth, “Yes, just like that,” he nods, keeping his hands on his thighs, curling up his fists as he grasps the fabric of his pants, trying to keep his fingers to himself. He knows once he starts touching her , it could go any direction. It was too early. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t indulge in the pleasures of having her willingly touch him, “More...” he repeats the same word once more, his possessive affection for her blooming faster than ever.

The situation had escalated way too quickly for her to even grasp it, but she pushes it to the back of her mind. For now, his heavy gaze upon her as she palmed him through his pants was enough to make her shirt stick to her skin from the raising heat around them. She pops a button open on her blouse before sneaking her hand into his pants at his needy demand, feeling his velvety length between her fingers. Her gaze moves up to hold his as she runs a nail from his base to the tip, to catch his reaction.

His burning gaze followed the movements of her unbuttoning her blouse just enough for him to let out a long exhale through his nose. He then focused his attention back down, feeling her nail scrape delicately across the skin of his length, his thighs almost vibrate underneath her, his cock twitches in anticipation, “Take it out...” It sounded more like a demand rather than begging, but it was laced with need.

Looking into his eyes that seemed like it wanted to devour her whole, she drags his throbbing length out of his pants at his needy whine. Even from the feel of him, she knows she'll be able to feel his curved tip all the way into her womb if she were ever to sink down on his pretty length. Shuddering at that thought, she runs her nail over his slit, gathering his precum as she goes before smearing it down his cock, slowly beginning to pump him between her soft hands. "Want more, Taehyung?"

Taehyung struggles to keep his hands to himself, but he’s mustering all his strength, clawing at his thighs as he moans quietly beneath her touch, ‘’Please,’’ His eyes are beginning to have a slightly crazed look to them as he watches how pretty and small her hands look compared to the size of his generous length, ‘’Put it in your mouth, please..’’

As much as she wants to tease and edge him on until he was writhing for her with nothing but her name on his lips, she knew they didn't have enough time. His pleas will have to do for today. Giving his throbbing length a few more drawn out pumps, she kisses the slit, moaning softly at his taste as she lets the tip of her tongue graze it. Opening her mouth wider, she locks her gaze with his while lowering her mouth to swallow him in painfully slow, swirling her tongue as she went along.

Taehyung’s jaw fell open, breathing out heavy, low vibrating groans as he watches his cock disappear between her lips, ‘’So pretty... Prettier than anybody-y ah..’’ His sentence broke into a whimper. He’s had his cock sucked before, but with her, it felt new and foreign, his hyper responsive senses causing his hips to twitch. He wanted to fuck her mouth so badly, but the torture of holding himself back from grasping her hair was another turn on in itself. If you are patient, and wait for something good, the wait will always be worth it.

A part of her feels smug as he is reduced to broken whimpers from her mere touch, such a breathtaking mess to watch despite his immense self control. She wanted to see him lose it though, and touch her the same way she was worshipping him. Stopping when she feels his cock hit the back of her throat, she gives herself a minute to breathe through her nose. Pulling him out halfway, she pushes the skin around his head down until she could suck on it sharply and repeats it till she feels him twitch.

Taehyung was struggling to keep himself collected, his hips starting to buck into her mouth, hands moving an inch closer to her body, but he harshly grips his pants too hard he almost rips through the fabric, ‘’I want to touch you so badly....’’ He breathes out darkly, ‘’But if I do, I can’t control--’’ He breaks into another moan and throws his head back, continuing to move his hips.

When he begins to buck into her mouth, she sucks him in until her cheeks hollow out making obscene noise. At his stuttering words, she unwillingly pulls him out of her mouth. "What if..." She pants deeply, trying to form the right words as her hands pump him steadily. "I want to see you lose it Tae— your carefully constructed control. Don't hold back!" Diving back instantly, she swallows him once again, her other hand moving to toy with his balls as she waits to see if he'd follow her words.

Taehyung screws his eyes shut for a moment, gritting his teeth to muffle the curses that slip through his lips. She wanted it, she wanted it... Could he really give in to his true self? Last time he did, it put him in here. With her as his therapist. Maybe it was fate, he was always supposed to find her, who actually wanted him to show himself for who he was. She cared. He felt like he could trust her, and he really didn’t want to hurt her... Not that much.

‘‘You’re so— shit..’‘ His eyes fly open, his pupils dilated with lust until they were almost blackened, his stare that of a possessive man as he gives in to his desires. His hands travelling to caress her hair, the hair he’s been admiring, and it felt just the way he imagined it, so silky and soft between his fingers. ‘‘You’re everything.’‘ He inhales deeply, his grasp in her hair tightening, pulling at her scalp until it almost burns as he forces her to take his cock deeper.

At his muffled mewls, she rubs her thighs together feeling her own arousal swell. But she ignores it in favour of watching his lust blown eyes focus solely upon her, as if she was the only thing he needed to exist and ruin in the same breath. His reverent touches does nothing to fool her, she knows a madman's eyes when she sees one. Bracing herself on his thighs, she sucks in deeply before he painfully tugs at her hair, thrusting himself back in all the way until her eyes tear up from the stretch.

‘‘Choke on it,’‘ He growls quietly. He didn’t want to be too loud, knowing there were guards outside of the room. His fingers curled around her hair as he starts to control her movements, using her mouth like a toy to fuck his cock into as he wishes. He takes notice of the tears welling up in her eyes, a tint of red in the whites of them from the lack of oxygen, and it sends him one step closer into his madness. He fucking loves the submissive look on her face.

An instant flush travels down her body from his growl, making her core clench. But that wasn't where her trained mind was. When she had asked him to lose it, he had merely found an object, her instead, to control, which begins a series of alarm bells in her head. As she loses her ability to breathe, she suddenly knows why those victims of his ended up dead. In her desperation, she sinks her nails into his thighs, hoping he'd let her go before she faints or worse, add on to his list.

Her nails digging into his thighs only adds to his pleasure, his grip in her hair like iron as he forces her back down on his cock, tears and spit everywhere. His gaze was like ice, eyebrows tightly drawn together as he feels his orgasm creep up on him quickly. ‘’Just— a little more. A little more...Your nose, breathe through your nose.’’ He reminds her while a voice in the back of his mind tells him to stop. It was too much, she was going to pass out if he didn’t stop, or worse, kill her, but it felt too good.

At the feel of his cock twitching inside her mouth, she knows he's deriving pleasure from both his and her pain, making her tears flow freely seeing no escape. A hand claws it's way up, digging itself into his hand as she struggles to breathe through her nose like he instructs. Little more... she fights to hold on to her slipping conscious, sensing his muscles go taut beneath her touch, she instantly moves her other hand to seize his balls. The sooner he got his release, the better for her.

A low, guttural moan vibrated in Taehyung’s chest as the familiar heat pooling in his lower abdomen reaches him, his hips stilling beneath her as he cums, ‘’F-fuck, ye-ees...’’ He growls, his cock pulsating in her mouth as the sticky warmth shoots down her throat. His grip in her hair almost instantly loosens, his body relaxing against the couch as he slouches, chest heaving up and down heavily.

If she could sigh in relief, she would. As soon as she feels his cum shooting down her throat, she greedily swallows it all along with a few desperate inhales of air through her nose. The moment his grip goes lax, she pushes herself off his thighs and falls back on the floor, gasping loudly as her cheeks slowly regain their colour. Her throat feels raw and her chest hurts badly every time she breathes in, but she forces her way up from the floor carefully turned away from his panting form.

As if a switch flipped, Taehyung came back to reality. He pulled his pants back up as he got off his seat, taking one step closer to her form on the ground. “Hey,” he whispers, eyebrows drawn together in concern. Guilt. He didn’t want to lose control, but she asked him to... begged him to.

Hearing the chair squeak as he stands up, she quickly scrambles to her feet to put more distance between them. Wiping her face with the back of her hands, she slowly begins inching towards her bag that was resting next to the table. Raising a hand at his whisper though, she stops him in his tracks. "Don't—" She croaks through her abused throat. "Don't you dare... come any closer!" Her eyes stay on the ground, not willing to meet his after seeing him go insane as she stumbles towards the table.

Taehyung stops, his hand falling down to his side, still keeping his eyes on her, ‘’I... I--’’ He grew frustrated, ‘’You asked me to do it...I shouldn’t have.’’

Grabbing her bag, she pulls her bottle out of it before desperately chugging half of it down to soothe her throat. Once done, she braces herself against the chair still wheezing as her eyes snap up to meet his, forgetting her earlier woes. "I asked you to fuck yourself. Not fucking kill me!" Her words were crude and harsh, but she feels little to no care. Her eyes flicker down to his case file still laying untouched on the table. "Is that— is this what happened to them, Taehyung? Is this why they're dead?"

Taehyung’s expression was sombre, eyes following her gaze to look at the casefile. He sits back down in the couch, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. The very same position he was in the first time they met, ‘’It’s...’’ The way she threw her words at him made him flinch, ‘’I didn’t want to hurt you.’’

Her eyes follow each of his movements, not understanding why her heart aches when he collapses down on the chair after what he did to her. As much as the sane part of her tells her to run while she still can, her medically trained brain fails to see its rationality. He was still her patient who needs her help. Right now, he wasn't the man who tried to hurt her. Sighing miserably, she steps closer to him. "Hey... I know you didn't mean to— it's... okay!" It wasn't. But that was not what he needed to hear right now.

Taehyung looks up at her, keeping his hands tightly clasped together, as if he’s holding his own hand to keep himself grounded. ‘’Did you... want to do it? Why did you ask me to lose control?’’

Her gaze swivels between his clasped hands to hers, remembering how they'd started it all innocently. Pressing a palm to the table, she slumps down into the chair still keeping her distance from him. "I did... Of course, I wanted to do it!" She pauses briefly before glancing up at him with her puffy eyes. "I didn't know you'd... Taehyung, you didn't lose control. You chose to control me instead..." And he damn well took sick pleasure from the crazed look in his eyes. "There's a difference!"

Taehyung started rocking back and forth again, eyes flickering between hers, “I’m not bad.” He convinced himself of this. He wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t the person in the case files. That was somebody else inside of him.

Right there, her first real evidence of his mental illness— his split personality. Without breaking their eye contact, she stands up on unsteady feet taking slow steps towards him, as if approaching a caged animal. "No, you're not bad..." She repeats after him in as much a soothing voice she could manage despite her tender throat. "That wasn't you." She hesitates to kneel before him, fearing it'd be a trigger. "Remember? This is just a dark cloud. It will pass soon and the daffodils will bloom!"

Taehyung intertwines his fingers, as if holding himself tightly, eyes following her every movement. He didnt want to startle her, but oh did he want to hold her. "Are you going to tell them? Are you gonna... stop seeing me?" He didnt care whether or not he was gonna end up free or caged. He just wanted to see her. He didnt want her to leave.

Her heart constricts at the distress in his tone and she moves even closer, letting her shaky fingers reach his hair to soothe it down in reassurance. "I'll tell them in my own way..." She couldn't write down what happened in her report, but she could always omit it out now that she had a diagnosis. Pushing his messy locks out of his eyes, her other hand goes to tilt his chin up to face her. "And who will treat you if I stop coming here? I'm not going anywhere until those flowers of yours bloom."

He genuinely smiles at her words, his hands relaxed in his lap. He dared to let his fingers reach up to gently caress the back of her hand that held his chin, “Thank you.” A knock on the door insinuated that time was up for today’s session, and Taehyungs smile fell. He didn’t want her to leave. She was his daffodil. And not knowing what she was going to do about what happened today made him feel anxious. Maybe she'd keep seeing him, maybe she was just lying to keep him satisfied, then telling them he’s guilty? Or would she deem him as mentally insane, and throw him away to the doctors? The next step was in her hands.

She returns his smile with an unsettled one of her own, that disappears the moment there's another loud knock on the metal door. Shuffling back from him, she smoothes her hair down and runs a hand over her face, looking down at Taehyung. "Do I look okay?" She cannot step out there looking like a mess, making anyone question what happened in there or even suspect a thing. Buttoning her blouse back up as she keeps her eyes on him, "Tae— no one can know what happened here today. Promise me?"

‘‘I promise, if you promise to come back.’‘ Taehyung ran his hand through his hair, a small smile on his lips as he eyes her up and down, ‘‘You look beautiful.’‘

Tsking her tongue at his need to bargain, "I won't be allowed to come back ever if you tell them the truth." She turns to grab her bag, realizing a second later how blunt her words might have sounded. He didn't need that right now, especially not from her. Forcing a smile upon her lips, "Thank you! I promise I'll be back. I might have a way to help you, but I need to discuss the legalities of it with your lawyer. I'll see you tomorrow." She casts one last look at him before leaving promptly.

Taehyung didn’t answer, and quietly observed as she left. Shortly after, the guards came in and cuffed him before leading him to his cell.

That night, Taehyung couldn’t stop thinking about her, even moreso difficult than the previous night. He now knew what she felt like, what she smelled like... The way her tears streamed down her face mixed with drool, struggling for air while choking on his cock— ‘‘Fuck,’‘ He hissed through gritted teeth, one arm placed over his eyes as he laid on his back in the bed, the other occupied with touching himself, thinking of his doctor.

Paraphilia. There was no other easy way to put this down on his report. It wasn't just his split personality, but his sadistic approach to intercourse that bordered on getting off from his partner's pain which led to the murders— she felt sick to even type it down. She can only imagine how he must've felt. The police had found him at the scene of the crime after all. After a long winded discussion with his lawyer, it was decided they'd plead guilty without any criminal charges.

She'd suggest a combined treatment of drugs and behavioural therapy at the facility she worked at so she'd be able to treat him herself for however long they sentenced him into rehabilitation. Content with her work, she found herself making her way back to the prison the next day to share the news with Taehyung. Seeing how the guard was already at his post outside, looking bored, she knew he'd be waiting for her. It was time to keep her promise. She steps in with a smile, "Hi Taehyung!"

Taehyung was anxiously waiting for her to arrive, biting the skin of his fingers. As she finally walks in through the door, chiming his name out with a smile, he straightens up his posture, unable to stop the boxy smile of his own to curl on his lips, ‘‘You came!’‘

"Of course, I did." Leaving her bag on the floor, she turns to him still standing. "I don't break my promises, and I might have found a way to help you!" She finishes, with her gaze intently watching every emotion flickering across his eyes while edging into her chair sideways as she continues. "But before that, I need to know how you're feeling after uh— yesterday?" It was the first time she refuses to meet his eyes in all of their interactions, her eyes lowered as if in shyness but not quite.

Taehyung takes a deep breath, leaning back against the couch as he tries to meet her eyes, but she was purposefully averting them. However he felt a small sense of pride in this, feeling like he’s got a small amount of power of her since yesterday, ‘‘I’m okay. Hm... what about you?’‘

Busying herself with pulling the report and her faithful notepad out, she hums evasively. "Been good... Any problems with sleeping again?" It wasn't fear or any need to be submissive. But seeing his eyes spark with life on many occasions, she'd gotten so used to them that it truly shook her when she witnessed their lifeless dark depths rivetted upon her during whatever it was that happened between them. This was her own way stopping herself before it gets any worse. He was just her patient.

Taehyung shrugged, he wasn’t sure if he ever slept well these days, maybe he was just used to it, so he just didn’t know. ‘’I guess so... I don’t sleep much in general.’’

As much as she wanted to continue on with the trajectory he provided, there was an elephant in the room that she needed to address first. Letting her eyes trail over his form, she finally meets his gaze with regret filling hers. "Taehyung, about yesterday, I owe you an apology for behaving so... unprofessionally and compelling you to do something you clearly didn't want to. I don't know what got into me. I've never— I just wanted you to know I'm genuinely sorry and it'll never happen again!"

Taehyung crossed his arms over his chest, the default position of holding himself, eyes flickering between hers as his head tilted vaguely, ‘’It won’t..?’’ In this case, he meant the situation at all. Did she regret getting down on him? Or did she regret triggering him? He wasn’t sure, and at this point he didn’t want to dig too deeply into it, anxious that he’d scare her off. He couldn’t afford to, especially not when there’s news of him possibly getting out of prison.

When she catches him crossing his arms, she sighs knowing the tell tale signs of suppressing ones true emotions. "It won't." She repeats firmly as if looking down upon a petulant child, her frustrations growing from the amount of whiplash this one man was giving her. "In your own best interest and mine, it's only proper that I remain as your therapist and nothing more, ever." Pushing a new file towards him, "It contains my diagnosis on you. You're welcome to read it if you want or I could summarize it for you."

Taehyung squinted, his gaze lingering on her as if he’s trying to find the lie. No, she was serious. She meant it. He hummed noncomittedly as he grabbed the file, flipping through the pages with his eyebrows drawn together. He didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes on the words on the paper, that apparently were about him,‘‘Yeah, if you could... summarize, that’d be great.’‘

Leaning back in her chair at his request, she hides her surprise at his nonchalance about the nature of their relationship. Wasn't this exactly what she wanted though? "You've been diagnosed with split personality and paraphilia, which is something like sexual sadism but to the extreme. Your lawyer, Jim—Mr. Park," she corrects herself, "—thinks this report would be enough to plead guilty without any criminal charges. I have detailed your treatment in there too. You'll be under my care in the hospital."

Taehyung’s eyebrow twitches when she almost mentions his lawyer by first name. Were they two close? He didn’t like that at all. But that was for another time ‘‘Hospital...?’‘ He squints at the words on his paper, looking at the treatment section, ‘‘That’s a lot of medication... Do I have to take it? Isn’t therapy enough?’‘

Wondering if the flash of anger on his face was due to the mention of hospital, she quickly seeks to appease him. "Yes, its the facility I work at. They're not going to completely release you until I find the underlying reason for your illness and treat you back to sound mental health..." Peeking over at the long list of medication he was looking at, she winces apologetically. "We treat certain cases with a combination of drugs and behavioural therapy. I'd reduce the dosage as time goes on. But for now, I'm afraid you need it, Taehyung!"

Taehyung puts the file back on the table, his eyes now back on her as he leans forward with his hands clasped together, ‘’Okay. I’ll do it.’’ He figured this was the best way for now, better than prison. He had to be there for himself to be able to plan out what he has to do, but he’s sure he can reduce the time there quickly, if he’s on his best behavior, and if the nurses were not as strict as he expects them to be... Skipping those meds would be a piece of cake.

Casting him a mildly suspicious look at his all too quick acceptance, she leans forward in his chair. "It's not a matter of your willingness, but the court's verdict in your next hearing. Until then, we continue with our therapy here." As much as she was positive it'd all work out in the end, she didn't want to feed him too much hope. "And Taehyung, I'll be your doctor there! Don't even think you can trick me or my assistants when you're under our care." She warns, taking the file back from him.

‘‘Of course... You can trust me, doctor.’‘ He smiled, but in the back of his head he was cursing. He’d have to figure this out as time went on. But for now, he had to lay low and cooperate. He remained silent leaning back to get comfortable, hands neatly clasped in his lap.

"I dearly hope I can." She mutters under her breath with a slight curve of her lips. Stacking the papers together, she clips it all back in the file as she speaks. "I'll leave it to Jimin to fill you in on the rest of the details about your next hearing. I'll be there before, to give my word as well." Putting everything away, she finally faces him ready to begin their session. "So, we can start from where we left off yesterday. Wh—" She realizes a minute too late, what that'd imply, her face instantly flushing at the memory.

Taehyung's eye twitches at the first name basis she calls his lawyer by once more. This time she didn’t even tries to stop herself. His jaw clenches, but he wills himself to relax once more. He crooked an eyebrow at her last words, and her reaction only made him feel a stir in his lower abdomen at the memory. Behave, Taehyung. “Let’s... where did we leave this at? Remind me.” He wanted to pressure her a bit. It’s the least he could do to get rid of his slowly building jealousy of Jimin.

Her gaze snaps up to meet his at the not so subtle demand, only to find the familiar darkness swirling around its depths. This weird affliction of hers with Taehyung will be the death of her, she decides. Sliding forward in her seat, she speaks in a softer tone, her earlier embarrassment forgotten. "Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you? For me to remind you..." Her voice turns into a whisper with her eyes tracing over his features. "Then how about a reminder of today morning when I told you it's never happening again, Taehyung?"

His lips curl up in a wolfish grin, he was trying so hard to behave. He was going to mess this up again if she kept spurring him on like this. First, she calls his lawyer by his first name. Second, she dares to whisper to him in that manner and within the same moment, reject him? Behave, Taehyung. “I don’t believe you.” Fuck, shut up, he told himself. But the darker part of him didn’t give a rats ass.

Wrong move. At the sight of his predatory grin, she admonishes herself for feeding into his desires when she's supposed to be doing the opposite as his therapist. She's about to pull away and apologize again, but his words bring her to a standstill. Blinking at the obvious challenge in his gaze, she resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Fine. What should I do to prove it to you?" She just had to show it to him she wasn't as affected by him as she really was, and then they can put this entire thing behind them.

His devilish smile grew, the boxy shape of his lips more prominent now. Taehyung slumped down on the couch more comfortably, resting his head back, his eyes were growing colder, piercing through her as his gaze drank her in like she was a fine meal. ‘’Watch me,’’ He smirked, licking his upper teeth in a teasing manner, his hand slowly trailing down his chest towards the hem of his pants, ‘’If you watch me touch myself, and you remain unaffected throughout... If you don’t want me at all while watching me, I'll believe you.’’

The satisfaction in his eyes makes it clear that he had her exactly where he wanted her, slyly caught in his web. Furrowing her brows in confusion, she's about to demand what he meant when she sees his hand inch towards his pant. Her eyes flicker between his hand and his burning gaze, nodding once firmly at his words. She'd just have to pretend to be unaffected. Sighing deeply, she drives her own bargain. "Okay. And if I remain unaffected, swear to me you'll never bring this up again?"

Taehyung chuckles breathily, his hand sneaking beneath his pants to directly touch himself, “Promise. And, if you really want me to stop, just say the word...” He moaned lowly, getting harder underneath the fabrics.

Her mouth parts slightly at his breathy words, his moan affecting her almost instantly making some wetness trickle against her underwear. "No. Go ahead!" She replies in a calm voice, her eyes fixed on him and each of his actions, appearing nonchalant despite the havoc he was beginning to cause in her body.

He sees the way she looks at him, even if her words speak differently. And this way, he could engage with her in the way he so much craved, but didn’t want to risk anything by actually touching her. Not yet. So, this will do. Her eyes will be enough for his inner exhibitionist to thrive off of the audience. All he needs is to get her hot and bothered, without laying a single finger on her.

She can feel the heat raise between her legs, but she resolutely keeps them apart, denying herself any kind of friction by crossing them and giving him the gratification of seeing her lose.

Taehyung lets a breathy moan push through his lips once more, using his other hand to pull his pants down further, taking his length out for her to see. He ran his thumb over his slit, spreading his clear juices down his tip before slowly stroking his cock for her, eyes never once leaving hers. “I love feeling your eyes on me, doctor.” His voice was growing needy, teeth clamping down on his lower lip to put on a show.

Her breath almost seizes when he pulls his rock hard length out. She can still feel the phantom weight of it between her fingers; still remember how deep he went when he used her throat so carelessly. Her core clenches around nothing at the mere memory, a muted gasp leaving her lips when he drawls her name out in his deep voice, causing more slick to pool between her thighs. Her fingers clasp on to the edge of her chair trying not to show how affected she was, despite knowing she has already lost.

“See what you to do me?” Taehyung squeezes his shaft firmly within his grasp. His red, swollen tip leaking with precum, he smooths his hand over his thick length, gathering the juices to spread it down his cock until it was glistening with a layer of his arousal. “Fuck, what I’d do to have you sit on it...” He was slow, but deliberate with his motions, aiming to tease her with visuals that’ll be burned into her memory.

She visibly gulps at his question, no longer worried about hiding how the fire in his gaze burns in her own while he was edging her on without even a single touch or graze of skin. Grinding her teeth together, she bites into the insides of her cheek as he strokes his swollen length when she wants nothing but to sink down on it instead and clinch hard until he can barely move inside her. Her breath leaves her in a whoosh and she opens her mouth before she can stop herself. "Ask for it... beg."

Taehyung groans lowly at her words, his hips gently bucking up into his hand. This felt too fucking good. He knows she was entranced by him, he fucking knows that she wants nothing else than to do as he says. But she was holding back, the sexual tension in the room making it hard to breathe, “Please, doctor,” his pleas were interrupted by a moan escaping his lips when he squeezed his shaft, “I want you... please, sit on my cock, fuck me.”

Some semblance of clarity returns to her at his pleading voice. It might not seem like it, but she knew she had a significant amount of power over him—at least in that instance. Shaking her head without taking her eyes off him, she slides off her chair and moves closer, toying with the hem of her skirt tauntingly but still staying out of his grasping range. "Three more strides and I could be on your lap, fucking you deep and hard. But why should I, Taehyung? Why should I after what happened yesterday?"

Taehyung almost whines at her words, his eyes never once wavering from the way she was playing with the hem of her skirt. He keeps stroking himself to the view, his eyebrows drawn together in sexual frustration. If she wouldn’t give in to him soon, he would almost consider whether or not he cares if he ends up in prison for simply taking her right then and there. And it was all too tempting. ‘‘I didn’t mean to... please fuck me, you’re driving me crazy...’‘

Physically feeling it when the darkness begins creeping into the molten heat of his eyes, she hastens to remedy the situation. Taking a step closer to Taehyung, "You cannot touch me unless I ask you to." Another step, "You don't get to come until I say you can." One last step, she tilts his head up with a finger beneath his chin. "Promise me you won't hurt me again and I'll fuck you?" Her gaze alternates between his scorching eyes and throbbing length, anticipating his reply with bated breath.

Taehyung licks his lips, ceasing to touch himself to let his hands fall limp to his sides, ‘’Yes, yes, I promise,’’ He felt desperate for her, his entire body burning with need to feel her slick heat. Her mouth was already his favourite thing, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine how good her cunt would feel. Now, he promised her he'd not to hurt her. But the little voice in the back of his mind laughed, fingers crossed. He wanted to be good, to show her he’s good. This was a true battle within his mind.

Feeling satisfied with his vocal promise, she reaches beneath her skirt giving him a full view of what lay there, and tugs her ruined underwear off her legs before climbing over his lap. Bracing her knees on either side of his thighs, she picks his hot length in her hand and rubs his swollen head against her dripping folds. "Feel that? See how wet you make me without even touching me, Taehyung?" She breathes against his mouth, her other hand tracing his cheek as she pins him with her eyes.

He’s speechless, his eyes dimmed with lust as they are completely fixated on hers. He nods once, to confirm that she was indeed so fucking wet for him. The familiar fire that spreads throughout his body is ignited, and he curls his fists tightly as he grasps the couch. Do not touch her, Taehyung. Do not touch her.. Touch her, touch... No, she’s in control.

"Use your words!" She reminds him in a whisper, with her lips grazing his and her breathing labored as her eyes roam over his features this close for the first time ever. He looked exquisite with his scorching gaze transfixed upon her. Her thumb traces his lower lip teasingly, wondering how different his mouth would taste from his cock. Giving in to the temptation, she presses her lips against his and sinks down on him at the same time, the sudden stretch making her gasp aloud into his mouth.

Taehyung’s lips part, mirroring her gasp, ‘’Oh my God...’’ He groaned out lowly, a quiet growl vibrating in his chest. This was overwhelming for his senses, how deeply she affected him and awoke every single fibre of his being. It felt like he was on fire beneath his skin, desperately clawing at the fabric of the couch, knuckles turning white. He wanted to flip her over and fuck her dumb with her face pressed down against the couch so so badly... But he promised her. Just fuck her raw, you know you want to. He shook his head, his eyes screwing shut, ‘’I’m good. I’m good.’’ He wasn’t talking to her, but to the voice in his head.

Trailing her lips across his cheek and down to his neck, she whimpers burying her face in there. She was right. She could feel his length easily hit her crevix in this angle, stretching her slick walls more than anyone ever had before. It felt like she was made just for him.

Once the initial pain subsides, she raises herself on her knees and sinks down again, welcoming the delicious burn with a throaty moan. "Yes... God! You're good. You're so good to me, Taehyung." She mumbles into his neck, slowly rocking her hips over his, getting used to being filled to the brim.

Threading her fingers into his messy hair, she tugs it back to expose his neck to her greedy lips, nipping and licking along the skin until she reaches his parted mouth. Backing away to look down at him, she hides her disappointment at his closed eyes, choosing to test his restraint instead. "Taehyung... Kiss me."

His eyes slowly open, and the expression on her face was something he could only dream of. Taehyung's head was screaming at him once more, to just fucking take over, and it was probably the most restraint he's ever held against the temptations. As long as she didn't push him further, he would be fine. He wouldn't hurt her... but God, did he want to? He obliged to her wishes, craning his neck to chase her lips with his own, the soft warmth of her lips drawing groans and moans from him, mixed with the feeling of her moving up and down his fat length.

Normally, he would be the one to dirty talk a whole lot more, but he kept his mouth busy with hers, focusing his entire self on keeping himself restrained, his nails almost digging holes into the couch at this point.

She moans against his lips, licking into his mouth as she deepens their kiss, groaning as his taste floods her senses. She could feel his potent hunger for her, so intense bordering on insanity and the masochist in her found it all too tempting to just give in.

Increasing her pace, she bounces on his lap in a wild frenzy, clenching down on his girth hard every time she plunged down on his cock. She could almost feel her high. Almost. Yet, not quite.

Something was missing. Whining in frustration, she pulls away from his mouth and cups his cheeks to make him look at her. She needed his touch to cum even if she knew it was a dangerous thing to even think about. "God... I want your touch so badly. You want it too, don't you?" Laying open mouthed kisses on his jaw, she whispers into his skin. "Make me cum, Tae... Please."

Right there and then, it was like the switch inside of him flipped, the little strength he had left to resist his greedy desires completely washed away from her words. She asked for it, she truly did.

The voice in the back of his head suddenly grew louder, needier. ''Yeah? You need me to make you cum, huh?'' His low, vibrating voice growled out, his hands wasting no time in grabbing her ass, and squeezing the flesh between his fingers so hard, his blunt nails would definitely leave marks,

''Shit, I've wanted you to say that since the very second you came in that door,'' He moaned out in pleasure, using his strength to lift her from his cock just to roughly slam her back down, his hips bucking up to meet her hips, the impact so hard that his bulbous tip is kissing her cervix with every snap.

''Fuck! You feel so fucking good, so fucking gooood...'' His eyes were dimmed in lust and his growing craze for her, the lifeless yet lustful stare blackened out. He wasn't gonna stop, whether she was too sensitive or not, whether she came several times or not. No, he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied.

Her body shudders violently at the sound of his growl, a terrified squeak leaving her lips regardless of the excitement she feels at the brutal press of his fingers against her flesh. "Yes, God... yes!" She whimpers, her pleasure edging on pain once he begins pounding up into her in his relentless pursuit of bliss— more his than hers, she realizes as her eyes tear up from his harsh pace.

Loosening her legs around him, she completely surrenders into his unforgiving touch, mewling lowly when he hits so deep that she could feel him in her womb. "Don't... don't stop please... Fuck!" She bends forward, burrowing her face into his neck, nipping at the soft skin before latching on to it with her teeth, determined to give him equal pain as her fingers work through his shirt buttons to feel his hot skin beneath her palms. One more ruthless thrust of his hips against hers, his pelvis digging hard into her swollen clit and she cums, her body almost seizing at the intensity of her orgasm as she begins almost sobbing his name aloud when he doesn't stop.

“Came already?” He smiles wickedly, but quickly that smile morphs into gritted teeth as he keeps grunting and growling, her fleshy walls spasming around his fat length so perfectly. He had stamina for days, he could fuck her forever if he had the ability to choose, but he knows that with the way she whimpers and sobs his name, he wouldn’t last much longer either. He roughly throws her body down against the couch head first, one hand on the back of her neck pushing her pretty face against the fabrics of the cushion and the other lifting her ass up for him as he gets on his knees behind her, mercilessly advancing his hips back into her clenching hole, skin slapping skin loudly.

She removes her teeth from his neck, her breasts heaving harshly, trying to get some air into her lungs when he unexpectedly pushes her onto the couch. She knew she'd awakened the beast when she asked to be touched, but this— he thrusts back into her without warning, making her sob loudly at the unwelcome intrusion

“You’re a fucking whore for my fat cock, aren’t you?!” His voice was low, almost mocking yet laced with his animalistic greed for her body, utterly lost in his madness, pistoning his cock into her like it was his mission to tear her cunt apart, “You wanted this, you begged for this, fuck— it feels so good, Shit!”.

Her core, still ultra sensitive from her previous orgasm, aches painfully when his still hard as rock length rips through her insides. She digs her nails into the couch, her jaws wide open in a silent scream as he rams his cock in over and over again, taking her like a savage. He was right. She was a whore for his cock. A masochist, addicted to this dark side of him— her own personal piece of hell for the sins she was committing. Soon, a trickle of pleasure begins winding its way from her wrecked womb even through the agony and she grips her walls harder against his cock, hoping he'd spill inside her before actually tearing her apart.

Taehyung kept up a brutal phase, relishing in the choked sobs and silent screams. If a soul could be on fire, his was melting inside of him, the heat pooling in his lower abdomen in the form of an upcoming orgasm. He was gonna cum so fucking hard, all because of her. In his own mind, it feels like he’s claiming her body as his own,

“You are mine, you hear that?!” He snarls as he grew bored of the current position, desperate to see her face. With a swift movement of his strong hands, he once more flips her over like a ragdoll until she was laying on her back, pressing her legs up so far that her knees are adjacent to her head, still plunging his cock into her cunt. This new angle feels even better, abusing her tight insides like his life depended on it,

Right when she believed there would be relief, Taehyung once again proves her wrong by tossing her around and forcing himself inside her violated cunt without any mercy. She feels him go even deeper in this angle, as if it were even possible. She presses the back of her hand to her lips, to keep from sobbing aloud and drawing attention from anyone outside.

“Tell me, doctor”, he moans out with a voice just as strained, his eyes heavy as he stares down at her fucked out state, rocking his hips back and forth with long, firm strokes, “Tell me you’re mine!”

Each time he slams into her, it's as if he wants to infuse himself within her; as if he wants to ruin her for anyone else— her other hand digs painfully onto his arms that holds her down, her toes curling as she feels another orgasm approaching. "Y—yes Taehyung, yes..." She gives into his demand immediately, her voice unwavering. "All yours! I'm yours... only yours." She mumbles over and over again, pushing the side of her face against the couch when it all gets too much to hold back and she cums again, which hurts more than the pleasure she feels as her abused insides grip him tight.

''Y/N,'' Taehyung moans out her name, his hips rocketing into her, phase quickening as he feels like he's gonna go fucking crazy at the wet, squelching noises he draws from her cunt with every stroke driving him insane with how good it feels. When she cums once more on his cock with the squeezing spasms of her walls, the orgasm he's been dying to reach finally reaches him, ''I'm gonna cum! Fuck yes—'' He thrusts into her rapidly clenching pussy a few more times before he grunts, falling forward on top of her body with his elbows placed on each side of her head, letting her legs fall freely to his sides. He hovers with his face above hers, sweat causing his overgrown fringe to stick to his face, eyes closed as he holds their spasming bodies tightly together, savouring the feeling of his throbbing cock spilling his cum deep inside of her.

At the first spurt of his thick cum into her tortured core, a wave of relief washes over her knowing he was done with her for now. Her limbs fall lifelessly on to the couch, despite wanting to push him off her and tell him not to cum inside her. Knowing him, he might not react well to it and she didn't wish to stoke the beast when it seemed satiated at long last. She was probably going to be sore for days, and maybe that had been his plan along.

Finally, she pries open her eyes and blinks up at him through her tears, her body still shaking with occasional tremors every time his warm seed squirts into her womb as if he hasn't filled her up enough. As much as she was upset with him for reducing her to this sobbing mess, she knew she had it coming from the very moment she allowed him to touch her, well aware that she was feeding into his obsession with her.

Taehyung felt himself come back down to reality, in a sense, when the loud monster within him seemed to retreat back into the corners of his soul, satiated for the moment. His gaze traces her features, a glorious mess, knowing he did this to her. But only because she begged him to, she taunted him to. He had absolutely loved it, her submissive sounds, her small body underneath his own, all for him to use. He loved her.

Lifting her slightly trembling hands up to his face, she pushes his sweaty locks off his eyes, content to see the life shining in there once again as opposed to the darkness they were shrouded with not minutes ago. Tracing a thumb under his eyes, "Are you happy?" She breathes out, still struggling to get proper air flow into her lungs. "I lied… I want you just as much as you want me, Tae."

His eyes flickered between hers at her words, as if trying to find the lie. But he couldn’t see it. He wasn’t sure. So he chose to believe her, and a small smile inched his lips upwards, he took the opportunity to kiss her softly on her lips, this one so gentle and affectionate in contrast to what he’d just done to her. “I love you.” He slipped out, merely a raspy whisper, but it was his truth. He slowly got off her body, pulling her along with him as he sat down, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, gently stroking her hair, “You’re my flower, my Daffodil!"

She observes him carefully in this quiet between them, his eyes gliding down her exhausted form still pinned beneath under his body. The wickedness was long gone from his gaze, replaced with uncertainty at her words which soon morphs into undeniable trust weakening her own resolve against giving in to him.

And so, she lets him kiss her, the soft caress of his smiling lips against hers a complete contradiction of his treatment earlier, making her heart tighten in an unnamed emotion. It is only when he utters those three little words, the very last thing she ever expected to hear from him, her entire body freezes up with a muted gasp slipping past her lips.

She lets him pick her off the couch, embrace her lovingly, and even go as far as calling her his flower while the panic slowly sets in her tensed form. It was only his obsession that he was mistaking for love, she was convinced. But how to explain it to him after everything she let him do to her.

Squirming in his hold, she pulls back slightly to look up at him with her bewildered eyes. "Taehyung... No! You— you barely know me for three days. This is not love..." It was merely their carnal desires, making them indulge in each other. "And I'm just your therapist. Not your flower... no..." She whispers softly as if to a wounded animal that could strike her at any moment if she made one wrong move.

His smile faded, eyebrows drawn together at her words, as if hes trying to process the meaning behind them, "You're not just my therapist." He sits up properly, helping her to do the same next to him, "You're mine. You said it yourself.. " he leaned closer to her face, eyes squinting, "I dont understand you...." his jaw clenched, as if trying to stay calm, but he feels the small frustration building inside.

He couldnt understand why she would keep giving in to him physically, but withdraw when he brings his emotions into the picture. He loved her, so what? He had already made his decision. And there's nothing that could change his mind.

She winces when he moves her upright, her skirt rubbing uncomfortably against her swollen cunt. Taking a deep breath and willing the pain away, she glances up to see his unhappy face. "Taehyung..." She tries again in the same placating tone she used before. "I said that in the heat of the moment." Because that's exactly what he wanted to hear from her even if she didn't mean it. Although, she decides not to say it outloud and incense him further.

"This thing between us is not love. We had needs. You wanted me. I did too, I wanted you. But that's just it! Consider this like uh... a kind of behavioural therapy to help you." She tries not to cringe at her own words. None of what she's saying makes sense to her either. She was usually better than this at explaining things, emotions or the lack of it to people. But her brain struggles to cooperate as she trails her eyes over his tense form in concern. Maybe she should've just let him say it without saying anything back— only, that would be akin to leading him on which would've been worse. Sighing heavily, she tries to pull away from him completely. "There's nothing left here to understand. I shouldn't have let any of this happen from the start! It's all my fault..."

Taehyung grabs her wrist as she pulls away, his rich stare growing more frustrated with her, “You’re lying.” He scoffed, “I know what I’m feeling, don’t tell me what is real and what isn’t!”

"I have no reason to lie to you about this!" She cryes, struggling to pry her wrist away from his grip, her voice no longer gentle when he seems to not hear her reasons. "Look... I'm not trying to call your feelings fake. But be realistic about this, Taehyung. You know me for less than two hours in the past three days. Maybe it's infatuation... or lust— let's not label it fancifully as love because it's not!" Placing her other hand over his, she doubles her efforts to wrest his fingers off her arm as she looks at him pleadingly.

Taehyung sighs, but he lets go of her wrist, fumbling to button up his shirt and pull his pants on properly, ''Let's call it lust, then.'' He runs his fingers through his hair, his face stoic as he's in thought. His brain was swirling once more, she was right. They had only known eachother for a mere few hours... But, he knows this feeling. This must be love. Right?

''Question....'' He looks at her while straightening the collar of his shirt, ''Do you seek to trigger my, so called...para...'' He hums as he tries to recall the diagnosis.

She rolls away with a barely concealed grimace once he frees her from his grasp, glad he was finally seeing things clearly. Rubbing a hand over where he held her wrist, she tries to guage how many bruises she might wake up with in the morning and will have to cover up in order not raise anyone's suspicion when his question leaves her shaken.

"What—" Her face falls as she presses her lips together, and hurriedly shakes her head. "God, no! Never, Taehyung. I'd never..." She begins reaching for him with her hand, but thinks against it at the last minute and drops it to her lap. "I want to cure you off your Paraphilia. Not trigger it..." A small part of her might have taken advantage of his weakness for her to try stopping him from doing anything extreme. But he didn't have to know that. "I told you, I only want to help you get better."

“Okay,” he nods, eyes suddenly averting from hers to look at the casefile on the table. He sits back down, looking as if he didn’t just fuck her with all his strength. Well, apart from the marks she left on his arms with her nails, which he didn’t seem to even notice. He rubbed his nape as he kept staring at the file on the table, lips falling open as if he wants to say something, but they close back together just as fast.

He had a lot on his mind to process, from his feelings, to everything they both just did, the way she suddenly rejected him, and now the future. Then once more, the voice smirking in the back of his mind wasn’t worried, it knew exactly what it wanted, and it was her. Nothing else mattered, everything else can be thrown to the side. Fuck the short amount of time together, it was enough. And she wanted him, he’s sure of it. She was just saying this because he was her patient. And one day, he won’t be— and they can be together. Yes... that’s what he believes.

She stands up on unsteady feet, her insides still quivering, and smoothens down her wrinkled skirt. But it turns out to be a mistake when she feels his cum dribble out of her abused cunt, prompting her to quickly tug on her underwear before she dripped everywhere. And that's when she notices Taehyung's eyes fixed on his file on the table but his gaze far away, his mouth opening and closing as if he had questions but didn't want to hear any replies from her.

Calmly, she shuffles back towards him, her mind already formulating a proposition that he might not approve of. "Taehyung, if you don't trust me anymore, I understand. I have been anything but professional to you..." She drums her fingers against the table when he doesn't look up at her or even appears to have acknowledged her. "I can ask someone else to replace me as your therapist. They'll take care of you from now on... You don't have to see me ever again if this all makes you feel awkward?"

His lip quivered at the very mention of her being replaced, eyes darting over to her form. “No. I don’t want anyone else.” He responded coldly. He truly didn’t. If it wasn’t her, he wouldn’t say shit. He wouldn’t cooperate. And by now, he knows she had grown attached too; whether it be out of lust or out of pity. It should be enough to keep her around, he hoped.

“It has to be you.” His eyes softened, glossing over with a layer of tears. He did feel sad, however, this was also gaslighting. He didn’t need to cry. He just wanted to squeeze her heart a little bit for him.

His reaction to her suggestion, just like she expected, didn't phase her much. Every single behaviour of his validating her earlier claim of how she was just his new obsession that he fantasized as love.

Normally, this is when she should throw the towel and withdraw completely from him before either of them posed a real threat to the other. But she genuinely wanted to be the one that cures him. And despite knowing how his glazed eyes were nothing but a device of manipulation, she moves even closer to him and places a hand on his shoulder and rubs it down, cooing at him softly. "Alright... I won't leave you. But then, you need to genuinely cooperate with me and work towards getting better. Promise me, Taehyung?" Her profound need to fix anything broken very well might be the death of her one of these days.

He melts under he touch, feeling accomplished. She wouldn't leave, and that's all he needed. "Okay, I promise," he nodded, and as if he wasnt about to cry in the first place, his eyes were dried up, a small smile on his lips. He glanced over at the clock, completely unaware of how much time had passed. "How much time is left for today?"

As doubtful as she was about his promise, she didn't let it show on her face choosing to return his smile. Glancing down at her watch, "We have about less than twenty minutes left." She contemplates whether to sit down, but chooses not to knowing it'd be harder to get up and out of the chair again. "I won't be seeing you until after your hearing tomorrow, if I can manage. Or it's gonna be only the day after..."

Moving her hand down his arm, she wraps it around his hand and squeezes it comfortingly. It might not have been very sensible to touch him again, but the line between them was so blurry by now that she didn't mind it. "Are you nervous about the hearing?"

Taehyung gently wraps his long fingers around hers, squeezing back as a response, a small sigh pushing through his lips, "Yeah, kind of." She wouldn't be there, so he would feel empty. But for her sake, he'd do well. And hope that things go the way she tells him it would.

She strokes the back of his hand softly with her thumb taking one more step closer and wraps her other hand around his shoulders before bringing him to rest against her body. A hug won't hurt when they've done much more than that. "Don't let it rob you off your sleep tonight. Whichever way it goes, let's hope for the best. And please listen well to Jimin, okay?" Her fingers move into his hair to stroke it gently while she stands holding him close.

Taehyung melts into her hug, sinking his face into the crook of her neck by instinct. He sighed softly, until she mentions Jimin's name. She kept addressing him by his first name so casually, and it was kind of stepping on his nerves. Maybe, he was overthinking it though, but... He still felt jealous. He wanted to be the only one with a casual first name basis. Then again, he has to be nice. Jimin is his lawyer after all.

Taehyung stands still, savouring her embrace for a long as she'd will let him, a soft whisper pushing through his lips, ''Okay. I'll do well.''

She had to raise herself on to her toes and tilt her head all the way back due to their difference in height when he decides to burrow himself into their hug. Despite knowing well how her actions could be considered as her bring irresponsible again and showing her fondness for him openly, especially after his confession, she brushes it all off and holds him close while running her fingers through his hair constantly. He needed her, for now. Just until he got better.

"That's good! Hopefully I'll get to see you at the facility next time and not here." She whispers back, trying not to shiver from his words spoken into her neck. Reluctantly, she tries pulling away only to meet with some resistance from him. "Taehyung, I should be going soon..."

“Just a little longer...” he murmurs into her neck, his arms dare to snake around her waist to hold her tighter, urging her to stay. His heart was beating hard in his chest, the quiet sound of the way he inhales her scent, the only sound heard for the moment. She truly smelled like a flower. If he could choose, he wouldn’t ever let go of her soft body, so small in his embrace. She was like a drug to his senses, both easing his mind & driving him mad.

She lets him hold her for a few extra minutes at his request, her senses hyper aware of how snugly he was embracing her and her heart thumping equally hard in her chest that was flushed against his. Her fingers begin drawing senseless patterns on the back of his neck, on the little exposed skin over the collar of his shirt as she keeps her eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, knowing very well she couldn't afford to get lost in the way he held her. Because she knew his arms weren't always this tender. The strength in them, as cherishing as they may feel right then, could easily snap her in two if he lost his mind to the beast again.

One more look at the clock on the wall and she sighs seeing their time was almost up. "Tae..." Her fingers sink into his hair and tug them back, trying to move his head away from her sensitive neck. "They're gonna come in here if I don't step out now."

Taehyung sighs deeply, a quiet groan rumbling in annoyance vibrates in his throat when she tugs at his hair. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he releases his grip around her, letting his hands fall to his sides, ''I just... I'll miss you.''

She moves away, breathing in relief when his arms finally stop caging her in his hold. Something small tugs her heart at his genuine voice, but she stomps it down harshly before looking up at him again. "You'll see me in two days at the facility... keep holding on to that thought, hm?" Slowly, she collects her stuff up trying not to limp too much as she moves around him.

Right before she's about to open the door though, she turns to cast him a longing look unintentionally. "I..." She begins, her eyes tracing over his features and a little lost in whatever she was about to say, until she decides not to. "—take care, Tae!" She leaves him with a smile. Between her statement and Jimin's tenacity, she was quite confident she'll see him at her facility soon.

And when he was there, nothing could stop her from trying to get him better.

CLICK ME FOR PART TWO

This is the roleplay with 🍁anon turned into part one of this fiction! I hope you love it as much as I do. A big thank you to 🍁 for creating the amazing header, saving the rp, hence why I was even able to repost this in the first place. AND for helping me edit this, I am so so grateful for this. Now, I even think it is even better than the previous version!

#yandere bts #yandere taehyung #yandere kim taehyung #bts smut #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #dom taehyung #fic: daffodil dreams

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

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𝑀𝑦 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑃𝑡.2 (𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎×𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

Part One/ Part Three / Part Four

Pairing: Badboy! Park Seonghwa (Ateez)/ Reader (Female)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, College Au.

Summary: Y/N has no idea what to make of the mysterious Park Seonghwa. Does he really like her or is he simply playing with her?

✿❯────「✿」───❮✿❯──「✿」────❮✿

Flipping the light switches off, Y/N typed in the security code into the pin pad before closing the door behind her, the faint beeping from inside letting her know that the alarm was functioning properly. She honestly wondered at times about if anyone would ever think about robbing a coffee shop. Granted it made a lot of money during certain seasons, but unless you actually work in one, you probably wouldn't think so. Yet it was surprising to know it could make as much money as any famous fast food restaurant. Well.....with those sky high prices, it made sense.

She stopped and checked to make sure she had everything in her bag, not wanting to risk having left her keys inside and find out until she reached her apartment. Satisfied by the confirmation, she began her walk home. If it had been fall or winter, she would have seriously considered taking a bus, even though it wasn't that far away. But it was summer and thankfully there was still an hour left before the sun finally set. She truly believed she was lucky to have found a place to live that was close not only to her workplace, but also her school, even if it was a tiny studio apartment. She felt proud to say it was hers.

Feeling something tug on her sneaker, she looked down and realized one of her shoes was untied. She bent down and began tying it up again, carelessly placing her bag right next to her on the street. She was so focused on her task in front of her, she failed to notice the looming figure in front of her.

"You know anybody could just whisk away your bag and run at this moment?"

She snapped her head back up and saw Seonghwa standing in front of her, an amused smile on his face. He bent down and picked up her bag, dusting off the dirt that had gotten on the bottom part of it in the process.

"Tsk. Tsk. And here I thought you were a more.... what's the word? Meticulous person."

Y/N gave him a questioning gaze before standing up, quickly grabbing her bag from him.

"Not even a thank you?" Seonghwa shook his head.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you went home." Y/N said, clearly confused as to why he'd be there still.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at her.

"I thought I told you back in the shop that I'd see you later?"

Y/N recalled the moment, it did seem weird to her that he'd say that.

"Well doll, it's later......and I wanted to see you." He explained, a slight smirk tugging on the corners of his lips.

Y/N let out a tiny scoff.

"Why?"

Seonghwa blinked at her response.

"I thought I made myself clear the other day Y/N. I like you."

Y/N blushed slightly at the memory of him confronting her back in school. She was hoping the shadow from the building in front of her casted enough to hide it from him.

"And I said there would be plenty of time to get to know each other.....well I'm free right now and obviously so are you. So why don't we get something to eat? My treat."

He grinned at her, obviously not expecting her to turn down his offer. Any other girl wouldn't say no to Seonghwa. But Y/N wasn't any girl, and she wasn't about to say yes to someone she hardly knew. Especially not when he acted so strange for her liking.

"No thank you."

She quickly responded and took a step to walk away from him, but his hand reached out and stopped her from moving any further.

"Why not?" He asked.

Y/N tried to think of an excuse, any quick excuse to get out of this.

"I'm not hungry." Was the best thing she could think of.

The loud grumbling of her stomach was a dead giveaway of her fat lie. After working 8 hours straight with only a bowl of cereal for breakfast and a muffin on her only break, of course she was borderline starving and needed something in her stomach before it began eating itself. Her hands clutched her stomach, hoping to silence the obnoxious noise, but ultimately just making it more obvious.

Seonghwa looked down at her figure and snorted softly.

"Seriously, I know a really good place here that sells burgers and shakes. Are you really going to say no to free food?"

At this point she could either tell him to fuck off and stomp away home, but ultimately she'd leave even more hungry and would still have to whip up something on the stove that would take approximately half an hour or more. Or she could accept his offer, but it'd mean interacting with him, not that it was necessarily a bad thing, but she honestly didn't know what to make of him. He's been straightforward with her all this time, but how was she to know he was being serious? For all she knew, he could just be playing with her. After all, isn't that what all bad boys are known for?

Guess there was only one way to find out.

✿❯────「✿」───❮✿❯──「✿」────❮✿

Y/N looked around at the 50's themed diner she was in:

Black and white tiled floor that was so clean it almost looked slippery. Cherry red leather seats, either in the form of booths, tables or chairs on the front white counter that stretched at least 40 feet. An array of old records hanged on the wall, whether or not you could actually play them on a record player or if they were just flimsy decorations would forever be a secret. An old juke box was stationed in one of the corners of the counter currently playing The Beatles, its color combination of yellow and blue not quite appealing to the eyes. And of course, a pinball machine was placed near the entrance for kids to waste their quarters on. They even had a light blue 1955 convertible Chevrolet Bel Air for people to go take pictures of or with. At this point it wouldn't have surprised Y/N if waitresses came out of the kitchen in roller skates and started singing songs from Grease or Hairspray.

It became an even more ironic thought when she saw Seonghwa walk back to her with their food. Dressed in a white shirt, distressed jeans, black combat boots and black leather jacket with his hair slicked back, he could almost be a modern day Danny Zuko and for some reason, that thought made her bust a tiny giggle.

"What's so funny?" Seonghwa asked as he sat the tray down in front of her.

"Oh....nothing." She was not about to get caught.

Seonghwa looked at her funny, but ultimately decided not to pry.

"Here you go."

He slipped her food in front of her: a burger the size of her two hands and a 32 ounce chocolate shake with whipped chocolate and a cherry on the top. A well sized platter with regular fries and curly fries made it obvious that they were going to share them. She didn't mind though, the portions were so big she doubted she'd even finish half of it.

She dug into the food, her stomach thanking her for finally putting something in her body. She was so hungry that she didn't care if she was eating like how she usually ate when she was at home, messy and slobbish. She was halfway through her burger, when she caught Seonghwa just staring at her. That's when she started to feel self conscious. She quickly swallowed what was currently in her mouth and grabbed a napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.

Seonghwa giggled at her.

"Don't worry about it. It's pretty refreshing to see a girl not care about how she looks like when she eats, and to actually eat. You have no idea how many girls I've brought here who only get salads and nothing else."

He cringed slightly at past memories of awful dates that make him wanna kick himself for even thinking they were attractive. He blamed himself though. He tended to only look at pretty faces and end up regretting it when he found out they were all self-centered, shallow, and prissy girls that just made his blood boil.

"Maybe that's why I like you. You're different."

He didn't even realize he said that out loud until she whipped her head up at him. He was stunned that he accidentally let that slip, but he was able to play it off coolly.

"How......how can you..... we've never even..?" Y/N couldn't even completely form her question but Seonghwa knew what she was referring to.

Sighing softly, he began:

"Well I'm going to sound like a total creep now but that's inevitable. It was a few months back, when you had changed majors and had to be transferred to our class..."

Seonghwa ignored the usual reprimand of the professor, telling him he was late again. As if he didn't do it on purpose. He just hated this class. It was undoubtedly one of the most boring subjects one could possibly take. He began to stare off into space, not even bothering to listen to what was being said.

He looked around at the familiar faces he saw in class, the same people from last year. Until a head of (insert hair color) hair caught his eye. She was definitely not there before. Seonghwa tried to think if he had ever seen her around before, but couldn't quite remember.

Unknowingly, he found himself staring at her more and more each time they had class together. He found out she had a habit of tapping her pen against her cheek when she was trying to concentrate, she kept everything in her bag organized and hardly socialized with anybody.

One time he followed her to her locker, just to briefly see what was inside of it. You can always tell a lot about a person based on how they decorate their locker. But Seonghwa only saw a few pictures of what he assumed was her family, few friends and a lot of sticky notes with motivational quotes written on them in various sharpie colors, with either stars or diamonds as decorations.

That just peeked his curiosity even more in trying to decipher who the mysterious girl was, and his curiosity turned to fondness for the girl, so he had no choice but to admit that he was attracted to her and wanted to get close to her.

"Wait. Is that why you were staring at me in class the other day?" Y/N asked after he told her all that.

"Took you long enough to notice too. You were so oblivious to it that it was kinda funny." He chuckled.

Y/N looked back at that moment and realized she still had so many questions left.

"But then why did you look angry after I looked away?"

Seonghwa shifted his position, sitting up straighter so he could look at her.

"Why? Cause you looked at me with such a bitch face and even rolled your eyes at me. I was kinda angry and hurt that you did that given how I feel about you." He explained.

Y/N looked at him confused.

"I did not roll my eyes at you."

"Uh....yeah. You did. You looked at me as if I was a bug or something." He corrected her.

"Well..... I was tired and hungry! I'm not in control of my actions or emotions when I'm in that state." She tried defending herself, feeling somewhat embarrassed that she had no control over her facial expressions.

"Yeah, I've noticed. You weren't all that happy 25 minutes ago when I asked you out on this date." Now it was Seonghwa's turn to roll his eyes at her previous behavior.

"This....this isn't a date!" Y/N exclaimed.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Oh no? Do enlighten me then. What is this?"

Y/N thought about it for a moment.

"We are just 2 individuals, having a meal together and conversing." She stated.

"Why are we conversing though?" Seonghwa continued to pry.

Y/N hummed.

"Because you said you wanted to get to know me better?"

Seonghwa smiled at that.

"Sounds to me like a date then."

Y/N mentally face palmed. She practically walked into that one herself. She sighed as she picked up one of the fries and dipped it into her milkshake before eating it.

"And now I've learnt one more thing about you: we have similar tastes in eating."

Y/N watched as he mirrored her actions and dipped his fries in his strawberry milkshake. Y/N decided to just finish eating as soon as possible so she could go home early. The sun was starting to set and she didn't like walking home in the dark, even if rarely any crime happened in this neighborhood. She was planning on not saying anything else, but then something popped in her mind that made her ask:

"Wait a minute! The day after the.....incident." She began.

"You mean when you were a total bitch?" Seonghwa teased.

"Haha, funny." She threw a fry at him, causing Seonghwa to laugh even harder.

She had to admit though, he had a cute laugh.

"Anyways, the day afterwards, I heard 2 girls talking in the bathroom about you. They said that you were pissed off at me-"

"I kinda was." He interrupted her again.

"Let me finish!" She cried out rather annoyed.

Seonghwa bit his lip as he stifled another laugh. He found it adorable when Y/N got agitated.

"They made it sound like you were going to beat me up. Something about 'giving it to me'" She held up her fingers in quoting signals.

Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to decipher what she meant. Then it hit him.

"Oh! No. Trust me, I wasn't going to beat you up. As for 'giving it to you' "

He mimicked her quotation signs, causing Y/N to glare at him for teasing her again.

"I was referring to the notepad you dropped. Remember? I gave it back to you?"

Now she face palmed literally as she realized she hadn't thought about that. And here she thought she was dead meat for sure.

"Was that why you were avoiding me the rest of the week? You actually believed I was going to fight you?"

Y/N swirled her milkshake with her straw, unable to look at Seonghwa in the eyes anymore.

"Y/N? I'm talking to you. You really believed that?"

The authority in his voice made her look up at him, his expression showing offense and indignation at the thought that she actually believed him capable of such a thing.

"Why would you think that?" He continued his interrogation.

"Well..... I don't know! Ok? Maybe cause I've heard so many rumors about you. You don't exactly have the best of reputations at school. Everyone says how you're...."

Her voice trailed off, afraid to finish her sentence, afraid to offend or hurt him in anyway .

"That I'm a delinquent? A criminal?"

Y/N blinked when he said that, as if he could read her mind.

"I know what people say about me, I'm not blind nor deaf to their gossip." He stated, not at all unfazed by what he often heard.

"So does that mean none of it is true?" She couldn't help but want the answer to her question.

"Well depends. Have I gotten into a lot of fights with other guys? Yes. Do I have a temper at times that gets me in trouble? Yes. Have I fucked a bunch of girls just for fun? Definitely. Do I smoke or drink often? I'm not denying it."

Seonghwa reached into his pocket and took out his lighter, twirling it around in his hand a few times so Y/N could get a glance at it before putting it back in his pants.

"But have I ever vandalized, stolen or done anything remotely illegal? No. Have I beaten someone up for no good reason? No."

Y/N listened to his words very carefully. She was amazed how he was calmly telling her all of this.

"And I most certainly have never even thought about lifting a finger against a woman. Especially not one I'm interested in." He confessed abruptly, causing Y/N to gulp her drink a little fast, nearly making her choke.

"I'm sorry." She apologized.

Seonghwa chuckled softly.

"Don't be. I get why you'd be scared. I just wish you'd get to know the real me......"

He reached his hand out and lightly brushed his finger on the top of her knuckles.

"Kinda like how I want to know you..."

The physical contact sent a weird feeling down her body. It was chilly, yet warm at the same time. She wanted to reach out and lace her fingers in his, and she would have, until a high pitched voice interrupted them.

"Seonghwa! Is that you?!"

They looked over to see a purple haired boy waving his hand in the air, as if his loud voice didn't make his presence already known. A pink haired boy was standing next to him, looking embarrassed as his friend jumped up and down. Having had enough of that, he pulled the boy by his arm and ran over to Seonghwa and Y/N's table.

"Hi! What a coincidence to see you here! Why didn't you tell us you would be here? You could have joined Yeosang and I. He promised to take me out to eat." He pulled whom Y/N assumed to be Yeosang closer to him.

The purple haired boy spoke so loud and fast Y/N had a hard time understand what he was saying.

"Promised? I was threatened." Yeosang replied, causing the other boy to let out a loud laugh, making Y/N think of a hyena.

"Hyung, where are your manners? Aren't you going to introduce us to your girlfriend?"

Seonghwa blushed and cleared his throat. It was the first time Y/N saw him get flustered and it was definitely funny.

"Y/N isn't my girlfriend-"

"Oh really? Great! Cause she's cute."

The boy wasted no time and held his hand out to her.

"My name is Wooyoung, I'm single, Bi, and I have a driver's license." He winked at her.

"For a moped." Yeosang corrected him.

Wooyoung sent a glare towards his friend.

"Y/N, these are my friends: Wooyoung and Yeosang. They go to our school, but you've probably never seen them cause they're a grade below us."

Y/N nodded and waved awkwardly at them.

"Yeosang, Wooyoung, this is Y/N. She's not my girlfriend, but she's off limits. Ok?" Seonghwa made sure to lock eyes with Wooyoung, silently warning him not to step any further into his territory.

"So if she's not your girlfriend, does that mean she's a fuck bud-"

Yeosang stepped on Wooyoung's foot, causing him to bend over in pain. Yeosang however smiled sweetly as if nothing happened.

"Anyways, it was nice seeing you Hyung. We wouldn't want to take up more of your time. Besides, we'll be seeing you tomorrow at Hongjoong's party. Right?"

Seonghwa nodded.

"You know I never pass up an opportunity to party."

"Will you bring Y/N with you?" Wooyoung asked, hoping she'd come.

Seonghwa looked over to Y/N, who tried to think of an answer.

"Uh... no thanks. I wasn't invited so-"

"Who cares? No one needs an invitation these days. It's a frat party anyways, a bunch of strangers end up coming in the end." Wooyoung insisted.

"I'll....think about it." Y/N knew she wouldn't.

"Ok! I'll take it as a yes. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Taking a hold of Yeosang's hand, Wooyoung made his way over to another table, the pink haired boy already looking exhausted at the thought of spending at least 2 more hours with his highly energetic friend.

Y/N smiled softly at them. They were definitely an odd pairing, but they seemed to compliment each other.

"It's getting late. Want me to take you home?" Seonghwa asked her.

"It's fine. I can walk. It's not that far." She refused.

"I insist. I want to make sure you get there safely." He insisted.

Y/N smirked at him.

"Are you really concerned for my safety or do you just wanna find out where I live?"

Seonghwa's mouth dropped at her insinuation.

"I don't..... ok you got me there."

She chuckled at his reaction, but ultimately got up.

"Ok. Fine. Take me home. The worst you can possibly do is murder me and throw my body in a lake."

Seonghwa shook his head and picked up his jacket. He made sure to hold the door open for her when they went out. Y/N didn't even notice he had stopped walking until she heard him whistle behind her. Turning around, she saw him standing next to a black Harley-Davidson motorcycle. She raised her hands and gestured him to explain.

"I told you I was taking you home."

He tapped the seat.

"So come on. Hop on doll."

He began taking out the spare helmet for her to put on. She walked back to him and placed her hands on her hips.

"You kept it parked here the entire time?" She asked him.

"Uh huh." He responded.

Her face was full of shock.

"Did you know that I would say yes to coming here with you?"

"Well not exactly 'knew'.......more like....hoped."

He winked at her before placing the helmet above her head, making sure to strap it tightly.

"Safety first."

After putting on his own helmet, he got on the motorcycle and waited for her to get on. She awkwardly threw her leg over the seat and hesitated to wrap her arms around him. Seonghwa huffed and simply grabbed her wrists to put them on his stomach.

As soon as he started revving up the motorcycle, Y/N tightened her grip around him. Even through his shirt, she could feel rock solid abs underneath it. It made her wonder what he looked like without a shirt. The thought temporarily distracted her from the worry of actually riding in a motorcycle for the first time.

Sensing her fear, Seonghwa grabbed one of her hands and gave it a light squeeze.

"Don't worry doll. I'll keep you safe."

✿❯────「✿」───❮✿❯──「✿」────❮✿

*part 3 coming soon*

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