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chainmailchalamet · 9 months

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Run Rabbit, Run (Dark! Eddie Munson 🍒🪽), Pt. 2

tags: roommates to lovers, modern!metalhead!eddie munson(maybe not a complete face match to ST!Eddie, but his look is up to your imagination), predator/prey dynamic , a lil degradation, impact, knife play, jealousy, possessive behavior + language, dacryphilia, kind of fucked up intense dirty talk, face slapping, choking, morallygrey!eddie, they may or may not be completely human (also up to interpretation), and as usual always!black always!non-binary POV 🌟🍒

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the tension breaks because of course it does— because eddie, from the moment you move in, seems to be on a one-man mission to pull at every single one of your threads until you unravel at his feet, just so he can put you back together again.

and if you confronted him about it, he’d play dumb about it, because in his defense, he’s not really doing anything he wouldn’t usually do. nothing he wasn’t already doing before you moved in with him — he’d say you were being paranoid, that it was kind of adorable actually.

but you know you’re not, that he’s not just doing what he’d otherwise be doing, that his actions are a targeted attempt to make you lose your mind, to crawl under your skin and live there. that to him, it’s just a matter of time before you snap.

it starts with the cooking thing — he’s always cooking, has been attached to the kitchen since he was a kid, living with his uncle wayne down in virginia — sweet, sweltering hot virginia, where he got his twang and his first tattoos (the stick and poke smiley face on his ankle, the first set of knuckle tats, the bones of his face piece), his love of smoking cigarettes off the top of his trailer on cool, quiet nights with a sky full of stars. wayne, who’s still down in virginia in a cabin that eddie put the money down for with his chef money. uncle wayne, who taught him to gut a fish and skin a deer and whose peach cobbler recipe he’s still trying to get just right. wayne, who he still calls every sunday as he fixes both of you a full dinner spread with greens and sweet potato and baked chicken.

to eddie, cooking is home, and family, roots and heart — it’s more than a love language. it’s a soul language, and he speaks it fluently, teaches it to everyone he lets get close to him.

and it only take a couple of weeks before he’s speaking it to you day and night, until you barely have to lift a finger in the kitchen because he’s got you, because he’s always got you. he’s got you for breakfast, with thick cuts of salmon and fat, fluffy vegan pancakes. with fresh squeezed juice and sausages that he picks up from the polish supermarket in brown paper bags every sunday, because he’s got a plug for that, and a plug for the freshest fruit in-season, for big juicy strawberries and peach preserves and purple kale.

he feeds you, everyday — with leftovers from the restaurant shifts he works until 3 in the morning — he brings you the day’s specials, whatever they are, spoils you with mushroom risotto and grilled eggplant and bucatini made in-house with the most flavorful tomato sauce you’ve ever tasted. if the special is seafood, he brings it home in a freezer bag, with sliced lemon on the side — he serves you your first oyster, your first bite of squid ink pasta, your first full lobster.

he’ll knock on your door at some ungodly hour, and when you invite him in he’s got a plate loaded up for you, bags under his eyes and a tired smile. he’ll watch you take that first bite, make that first satisfied noise, because he knows you’ve been at the drafting table for hours making adjustments to a new garment in time for an editorial shoot over the weekend.

no matter how tired he is, he’ll sit on your bed, looking so out of place amongst your plushies that it makes you bite down a giggle at the sight of him, looking sharp and dangerous surrounded by soft things. no matter how tired he is, he’ll ask you about your day and listen intently, wrinkle between his eyes as he does — and even though you’re shy at first, talking to him about fashion, he’s encouraging, asking you questions until you loosen up a little and you’re talking his ear off about sustainable dyeing practices and bias cuts and the art of the gather. and you know he’s too tired to take it all in but he’ll fight it, yawning in-between questions like you can use onions skins as dye, that’s crazy, what else have you tried and you did that all by hand? so fucking cool — yeah, i mean I can do patches but it’s nothing like that, used to just use dental floss and it wasn’t super clean, nothing like what you do, that’s way more punk, you made a fucking jacket from scratch.

and he makes you shy when he gets like that, when he gives you all his attention, when he keeps track of every bite like you’re suddenly going to hate his cooking, like he’s ready at any moment to fix it for you, to go right back into the kitchen and make you something from scratch, like he wasn’t just groaning about the longest fucking shift of my life, darlin’, you wouldn’t believe — had to hide in the lockup at midnight cuz we just got back to back fucked, substitution after substitution, and i like getting creative, don’t get me wrong, but what the fuck do we have a menu for?

he lights up a little when he talks about the kitchen though, about gareth who does dishes and robin and steve who run the front of house like it’s the navy.

he’ll grin when you scrunch your nose up because he’s smoked through another pack in one shift, flash his teeth and say beats the alternatives, glad you didn’t meet me all strung out and 21, would’ve been vibrating around your room, rearranged the kitchen, lit a real fire in the fireplace.

even on his worst nights, after an actual hell-shift, when his texts get short and a little snappy, when he stops assaulting your chat with emojis, when he spells out every single word and doesn’t reply for hours and all you get after that is a “don’t wait up x”. even when you hear him come in, dragging himself through the apartment like his body is dead weight, even on the worst nights — you’ll wake up in the morning to a spanish omelette on the counter and a sticky note that says “getting some air, sorry about last night x”, as if he has anything to apologize for, as if he’s not allowed to be human.

it’s all so domestic — he makes your home a warm cloud to lay in. he makes you feel so at ease, like he’s got you, like he’s a safe place to land.

which is where the problem comes in — because your roommate eddie, your sweet, doting, sensitive eddie, who cries when he says “love you, g’bye” to his uncle wayne without fail every single time they talk, who has taken in one of the neighbors cats (cerberus, sweet and soft and definitely using him for his top-shelf tuna connections) as if it is his own, and calls his guitar sweetheart and shimmies his way around the kitchen on sundays humming let’s hear it for the boys.

that eddie — sweet, darling doting eddie — is a fucking deviant.

he doesn’t show it too often, keeps it tucked away with impressive self-control, maybe even tries to hide it from you until he’s sure you’re settled, until you start to wonder if you just imagined that glint in his eyes the first day you met him — until the mask slips, until you catch a glimpse of his shadow once more and you think to yourself “there he is”.

it happens because of a bottle of tequila — because it always does. you go out drinking with him and his work friends, because you lost all of yours in the breakup, and eddie says he’s already told everyone all about you, that they already love you, c’mon sweetheart, it’s my night off and i wanna celebrate, know you got that shoot coming up, barely been drinking water you’re working so much, don’t think i haven’t noticed. come dance with me, just one night, i promise i’ll get you back in one piece.

and when he puts you on the spot like that, makes you feel exposed like that, looks at you with his bambi eyes all wide like that, you can’t really say no.

so you get all dressed up (change your outfit three times, because it’s been a long time since you’ve been out and you wanna make a good impression, damn it), and you might be freaking out a little. but then eddie yells out “c’mon honey, bet you look perfect, lemme see you”, and you swallow that anxiety because you like the way his voice curls around the words like that, that honey-twang he’s got cuz you’ve both been pre-gaming a little (him with a homemade margarita, you with a glass of red wine). it makes you brave, makes you take a deep breath and step out into the living room. and you both see each other all dressed up for the first time and — something shifts.

something tilts on its god damn axis — it’s the start of the end.

his hair is wild. big and dark and wild and sparkling through like he’s sprayed glitter in it. he’s got the most delicious black leather jacket on, fit perfect to his body and aged just right. he’s got this sheer fucking fabric stretched across his torso — it’s barely a shirt, just a scrap of something dark that lets you see the cut of his hips and the ink in his skin and the silver rings in his nipples.

his pants are low cut, ripped jagged across both knees, like he busted them open skating — and his boots are obscene, steel-toed shit-kickers, red-laces cutting through them like veins. he looks so good you want to stomp your feet and whine “not fair, who gave you eyeliner, that’s cheating”.

he looks like a young god, like hell on legs, like a flashing neon sign that says “i am going to fuck your life up and you’re going to thank me for it”. you suddenly can’t read.

the way he’s looking at you makes your mouth dry up, makes your thighs press together, makes you want to fall to your knees and worship. it’s all that desire you forgot that he possessed, that you only catch flashes of in the quiet moments — when he’s giving you a taste of something new and his eyes travel down to your lips wrapping round the edge of the spoon, when you hum low and pleased with your eyes closed and you open them up and he’s giving you that look again, that “run, rabbit, run” look.

for the first time in weeks he’s not hiding any of it from you — runs his gaze over your face and down your neck, across your shoulder and down your stomach, to your hips and both your thighs (he takes his time right there, sees you twitch, darts up to meet your eyes real quick, almost-smiles, like he’s saying “got you”)

and then up, up, up again. he takes his time. he runs his tongue across his lips, comes up real close and tugs on one of your braids with a scrunch between his brows, looks down at you and blows out a quiet rush of air and says “we should go, right now” like he means “before i do something i regret”.

that night, something inside you snaps.

his friends all clearly know something you don’t, and they are varying degrees of subtle about it. chrissy hugs you and smiles big and bright and says aren’t you the prettiest god damn thing i’ve ever seen but she’s looking at eddie when she says it, and it makes your face heat up.

robin and steve are all wry and knowing, bitchy in a fun way, exchanging little smiles with each other, all he’s finally let you out the dungeon, huh? thought he was gonna keep you all to himself.

jon is quiet but he gives eddie this little nod like “i see you” and his boyfriend argyle is already two-thirds into a bottle of casamigos so he just says the quiet part out loud, somehow makes it sound so chill, like it’s not a big deal that he takes one look at you and goes holy shit, eddie wasn’t lying, you’re like — what the fuck, i’d write songs about you too. doesn’t even give you a second to unpack all that before there’s a shot in your hand.

and then the drinks keep flowing and you start to loosen up and enjoy yourself and eddie doesn’t seem phased by any of the teasing, sits close to you and takes sips out of his drink (fruity, staining his tongue red as punch, sickly sweet when he lets you have a taste of it), keeps his eyes on you all night, just takes it all in stride — like he was expecting this, like he’s made his peace.

and you’re too drunk now to let it go, so you turn to him while steve and rob are busy bullying everyone else and you slur out something like so you’re obsessed with me, huh? and he smiles sharp and dirty and goes you don’t wanna go there with me honey, and you say why not, you’re all talk, don’t pussy out on me and his eyes go pitch black.

he nods his head, hums to himself. “noted.”

and it just goes down, down, down from there. because now you’re worked up, feeling bratty, feeling mean. you nod too, and he’s just taking you in, sitting too close, watching you like he’s curious, like he’s just delighted at the thought of what you’re gonna do next. bet, you think. let’s go, then.

steve seems like your best bet, so you ask him if he wants to dance, sugary sweet and wide-eyed, and he grins like he’s been waiting for this all night, says later losers, time to have some actual fun and takes your hand, cutting eddie a look like the cat that got the cream as you climb over his lap on your way out.

eddie’s just looking, looking, looking. quiet storm brewing across his face. leans in close before you’re gone to whisper “careful, baby” in your ear, like a warning.

you just smile at him, shrug. come get me, big bad.

dancing with steve is easy, his arm across your back, your hips pressed close. he says “your boy’s watching, wanna give him something to look at?” and you pout, tell him “he’s not gonna do shit, stevie, he’s all talk”.

steve smiles at you like you’re so dumb, just delightfully stupid, so you ask him what he knows and he says “i know he’s real sweet on you, but you better watch it, honey — eddie’s not the one to play with.”

and then he leans into your ear and tells you a story about a wolf who walks like a man and talks like a man and acts like a sheep — but he’s a wolf, honey. he likes to bite, likes to play with his food — keeps his prey tied down in his lair and takes them apart, piece by piece, until they’re crying, begging, until the fight leaves them all at once and they go empty between the ears, until they’re just gone. and then he just keeps taking, taking, taking. until they’ve got nothing left to give him.

and the music is so syrupy sweet that you’re lost in it, lost in the roll of your hips, lost in steve’s voice rumbling in your ears, low and hypnotic, lost in the drinks flowing through your veins — until steve has to hold you by the chin and force you to look up at him and say “still with me, little lamb?”

your throat is dry when you ask him how he knows what he knows, and he just looks over your shoulder (you know who he’s looking at, you feel those eyes across your back, he’s always watching, he just never stops looking) and tilts his chin up and goes why don’t you ask him yourself, honey?

and then eddie’s right there, pressed up against your back — leaning down to your ear to ask if you’re having fun, and for a second you’re pressed up between them both, letting steve rock you back into eddie, letting eddie grip you by the hips and pull you back, back, back, guiding you into a slow, filthy grind. your eyes fall close, you barely notice steve pressing a kiss to your temple, trilling have funnnn before he’s gone into the crowd again.

you still with me, eddie asks, at the same time you spin round and ask him “you fucked steve?”

he laughs a little and hums i see y’all been getting acquainted, pulls you close again and says jealous, honey?

you say you wish, and then you did, didn’t you? said you act like a sheep, but you’re not, are you? you’re a wolf.

he looks down at you, runs his hands under the straps of your top, presses his palms to the skin of your back, dips his head down. you know, i wanted to do this right — wanted to woo you and shit. feed you, keep you warm, treat you sweet.

and you know, you know, you know. what are you gonna do with me now, eddie?

he just looks at you. looks and looks, pulls you closer, let’s his hand creep down, down, down, makes the heat in your body swoop down low in your tummy when he grips you hard over your skirt, sweeps one hand in your hair and gets his fingers tangled in your braids, all the way down to the root and tugs, real mean with it.

he makes you bare your neck to him, makes you gasp, makes you wanna beg. for his teeth in your neck, for his hands between your thighs, for his mouth on you. you gonna hurt me, eddie?

he shrugs. i don’t know yet, honey. you gonna ask me nice for it? gonna ask for what you want instead of being a rude little brat, making me think you wanna fuck my friends?

your mouth goes dry. i wasn’t tryna —

nah, you just wanted me to think it, didn’t you? his voice drops low, mean, dark. dumb bunny, you didn’t actually think that was gonna work, did you? steve likes em big and bad, and you’re fucking nothing like that, are you? pretty little doll, he’d eat you alive.

he’s all inside your head, barely leaving you any space for yourself, and the way he sneers dumb bunny makes you squirm, makes you ache. he’s got you pinned in place like a fly in amber, nowhere else to run. and you wouldn’t?

he tilts his head, hums, says it again, wanted to do this right, wanted to lay you out on my bed and make you feel good. he mouths a kiss across your neck, traces his tongue across the skin, just the tip, just a tease. asked me if i was obsessed with you. stupid fucking question, baby. knew you were mine, first second i saw you, walked into my house and made it all strawberry and honey, seeped into everything, kept me up at night with it — and now it’s all over our home, our fucking home.

he uses his teeth, opens his mouth wide like a beast, like he can’t just smell you, like he needs the taste of it too, needs to feel the flesh between his teeth. and you can see right though me, can’t you, baby? the others, they think they see it, think they know what i think when i look at you, but you know, don’t you? you’ve always known.

you know. you’ve known. he wants inside your skin, wants to worm his way deep and build a home there. wants to keep you fed, keep you full, make you happier than anyone could. wants to own your happiness and your hunger, greedy over it. fucked up over the thought of anyone taking care of you better than he could, knows in his soul that no one else could. it makes you scared, makes you warm, makes you feel insane. you should run, should find a new apartment and start over because you’re so raw, and vulnerable, and he could hurt you, he wants to hurt you —

you tilt your head back, you run your hands across his shoulders, over his back, up into his hair, and you grab a handful and pull. he makes a noise like a wounded dog. he pants for it, folds forward like he got the breath knocked out of him — you think he’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine, feel him kick up against you, big and warm and hard against your hip and your head swims with the thought. over and over, the same thought — mine, mine, mine.

yeah, sweet thing, m’yours, all yours, all of it, all yours, he whines, just for you. must’ve heard you, must’ve said it out loud. he sounds hollowed out, like you’ve let all his air out, and you’re wild for it.

tell me how, you say. you tug his head down so you can speak into his ear, and he goes down easy, so easy. when i let you take me to bed, when i let you have it, what will you do to me? what first?

a knife, he says, like a man possessed. toys with all your straps, slips his fingers underneath and tugs. wanna cut you out of this pretty fabric. look like an angel, wanna rip it to shreds, lay you down in the ribbons.

to ruin me, you say.

to make your heart race, he sings. he sways into you, sounds so consumed with desire it makes him drunk, makes him slur his words like his teeth are too big for his mouth. make you scared, make you wanna run so i can catch you. hold you down, press the blade up against your skin and play.

he wants to play. with a knife to your neck. fucking freak.

yours, yours, yours, he says. pulls back to look at you, hisses when you follow him with your hands in his hair, eyes rolling up and then back down, eyes half-shut, lights going out until it’s all a stretch of midnight without a star in the sky.

beautiful boy, you think. terrible, terrible, gorgeous boy.

wanna spit in your fucking mouth, he confesses. wanna hold my hand over your nose and watch your throat work as you swallow. wanna make you wet all over.

you’re already wet all over, and he knows that. can probably smell it, the wolf.

you’re still dancing, somehow. still swaying, still pressed up against each other, no room for common sense. his friends are nowhere to be seen — the crowd of bodies around you have all blurred away. you want to be home, in his bed, his lair, at his mercy. you tell him as much, and he smiles at you like he’s proud. love it when you tell me the truth, he says. love it when you show me.

better make it worth it, eddie, you say. better make it hard to leave your bed in the morning.

and then, he sings. and then, and then, and then.

greedy boy, you think, never gonna let me go, never gonna let anyone else touch me ever again.

you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, red and sweet and sharp. and then, you say, then you’re gonna feed me, like you always do.

#eddie x black!reader #dom eddie munson #eddie x y/n #eddie munson #eddie x reader #dark!eddie munson #dom!eddie munson #mean dom eddie munson #black!oc #black!y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut

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itsgoghtime · 2 months

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World in Color

Chapter VII

Words : 1948

CW : short lil toadstool of a chapter with a happy ending (but it isn’t actually the end), plot twist to set up for next chapter (been waiting for this one since I wrote Chapter I), flashback to his injury last chapter, all the Spooky and Pumpkin fluff because I refuse to hold back anymore

taglist : @valmare @horserad-ish @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

If there was one thing Will loved most about his new chance at life, it was mornings with Pumpkin.

Whatever was left of the coolness that nightfall brought began to dissipate as the sky illuminated into all sorts of warm pinks and oranges.

Cotton sheets rustled and wrinkled as she cuddled into his chest, barely conscious and unwilling to move too much just yet.

"What if we just... call in sick?" He mumbled, tone deep with fatigue as his arm draped over her.

"Can't. It's our house." Her soft fingers played with the edge of his tank top at his shoulder.

"Damn." Will kissed her forehead. "Better get moving then, it begins to get really hot at 8."

It had been several months since the incident with Rhodes. Now that the people of New Lago and New Hope were free from tyranny, they were much more welcoming to Will and Pumpkin than they had been before. The two of them had been offered housing by countless families, but unwilling to burden any of them as they all got back on their feet, the couple had decided to stay at the hotel.

Kisses exchanged, toast and coffee made, they had been through the usual morning routine as she settled onto the bed behind him, massaging some of the knots in his shoulders and back after they were dressed.

"Now, if I remember correctly, you love breakfast." She kissed his shoulder.

"Mhmm. The whole she-bang, if I can help it."

"Gosh, I'm so excited to have a kitchen so I can cook for you again. I'll make you the tallest stack of pancakes you've ever seen, my love."

"Mmmmm. I'd like that. But we'll have a kitchen again in a few months, when we go back to Wisconsin to visit Erin for the holidays. We've got to get your house ready to sell."

Will could feel her smile, and his heart beat just a little faster before her fingers found a spot that he had injured in the incident with Rhodes.

"Ouch." He groaned, flinching slightly.

"Sorry, love. Didn't think your shoulder was still that sore." Pumpkin said softly, her hands pressing into his shoulders more gentle than before.

"It's alright. Did you and Joanna decide what we're doing for lunch?"

"Well, since we're eating with Victor and his family tonight and they had mentioned fajitas, we decided to do sandwiches. I'm also making that lemonade you really like. It should get up to at least 100 degrees today, so it'll be nice to have something cool in the middle of the day. If I'm not there, make sure to reapply your sunscreen and drink plenty of water. I don't want you burning or dehydrated."

"I've been in the Syrian Desert and been just fine, I don't think I'll burn, hun."

"Alright then, but I don't want to hear it if you do." She kissed his cheek, only having a moment's peace before Will flipped around and pinned her to the mattress, hands by her waist.

"William!"

"You're just too cute for your own good." He pressed his lips to hers. "You ready to go?"

The familiar horn of Joanna's truck sounded outside the window.

"I think so." She chuckled. "But I'm a little stuck."

Will pushed himself off the bed, holding his hand out to her. "Come, my lady. Our castle awaits."

"Castle." She laughed, taking his hand. "Tuscan castle in progress, for sure. Your plans are quite ambitious, my love."

"Only the best for you, my darling Pumpkin." He kissed her forehead, the floor of the hallway creaking in the same spot it always did.

"When did Don say my car would be done?" Pumpkin asked, stumbling a little. The work boots she had been using were just a little big on her feet. Will caught her arm and continued down the stairs.

"I think tomorrow, since the tubing should be coming in for your oil intake. I was going to go see if I could help him install it and change your oil out before we get it up and running again."

"Perfect."

♡ ♡ ♡

The cloth was cool in the backseat of Joanna's truck. Will soaked it in, knowing the Arizona sun would beat on it for the rest of the day. Even with the windows down, blue skies illuminating his surroundings, it was surely already close to eighty degrees.

Carly breathed deeply, eyes closed as she slumped into Will's side.

"Sorry, she's still getting used to the early hours. I told her she could stay at the shop, but she insists she be there to supervise." Joanna chuckled.

"I don't mind." Will whispered back. Practice for when you have yours, he told himself.

The way Pumpkin's voice was so much softer in the mornings was something he'd never forget. Like silk, woven so delicately, and yet it held such power over his heart that he couldn't describe.

And to think, just a few months ago, this could have been taken from him.

"It's okay, love. It's alright. Joanna's taking us to the hospital. Breathe for me." Pumpkin kissed his forehead, tears spilling down her cheeks as he hugged her tight in the backseat of Joanna's truck.

She had wrapped his leg wound, and stopped most of the bleeding, along with the wound in his hand. But there were little abrasions everywhere, bruises were forming, and he felt that there wasn't an area where he didn't hurt.

But she held him through it all. She hadn't left his side since it began. She took care of what she could before wrapping him in a blanket and helping him into the truck. And even then, she wouldn't let go. Not that he wanted her to. She brought the only semblance of comfort that he could recognize.

"Pumpkin..." He coughed a little. "I know I'll be alright, but... I have to ask you something."

"Anything."

"I want to build where Miguel started before... before all this happened. But... I want to build it... with you."

She kissed his forehead again, soft and affectionate fingers running through his hair. "Okay."

The white noise of asphalt turned to the rumbling of dirt, the gentle clang of rocks in the wheel wells now familiar.

Right before him, Spooky could see the culmination of the life he had so desperately wished for coming together, piece by piece.

♡ ♡ ♡

Will had seen Pumpkin work before - but this was different. The way she shuffled through the dirt, sweating in the heat as she moved things around, how she worried over Will's hydration, applying sunscreen on his skin a second time before she left to make lunches with Joanna - her magic didn't have boundaries.

And as much as she refused to believe it - to Will, she was gorgeous like this.

"Spooky! Where's your chica?" Eduardo asked.

"She left with Joanna to go make lunch."

"Is she your fiancée yet or what? You're taking a long time."

"Not yet. Haven't found the ring."

"If you take too long I'll have to set her up with someone. Those dog tags you gave her don't count."

Will chuckled. This teasing was normal - predictable, even. It seemed that there was not a soul within New Lago or New Hope that didn't know of his intention to marry Pumpkin. He had given her his dog tags once things had settled down, and she hadn't stopped wearing them since.

"My darling Pumpkin, they really aren't that special."

"To me, William 'Spooky' MacPherson, they are. Look out world, this girl's taken!" She put them on her neck, spinning around once before pausing to look at them.

Will chuckled, holding her hand that grasped his dog tags so tightly.

"Yeah, you are."

"My soldier's come home. Gotta make sure everyone else knows." She whispered as their lips met.

He loved how she wore them so often now. He could understand why many of his new friends thought he had offered it instead of an engagement ring, with how faithful she was to always having them on her person. Perhaps she also considered them an engagement item. But it was quite the opposite of what everyone assumed - because a ring was in the works.

"Well, I'm actually planning on proposing around..."

"Spooky! Spooky! Come see the spot I picked for your yellow flowers!" Carly giggled, taking Spooky's hand and leading him away before he could finish answering.

"Soon!" Will called back to Eduardo, who laughed as he turned back to the cement mixer.

♡ ♡ ♡

"I'd never thought I'd be settling down in Arizona - I had always imagined that I'd live in Wisconsin my whole life."

"Yeah?" Joanna was focused as bread knife thunked against the cutting board.

"Yeah. My family is from there, it's where I grew up. Will's sister lives there, but at least from what Erin's told me, he's always been pretty independent. Now, we have ties to Arizona." Pumpkin pulled the simple syrup off of the stove to cool.

"I'm so sorry about Miguel. But I think he would be proud that you two are building your life together where he had begun."

"I hope so." Her tone softened, the familiar pang of loss settling in her stomach for a moment as she turned to help begin the assembly of the sandwiches.

"Now, for the important question." Joanna's tone lightened. "Have you and Will discussed marriage yet?"

Pumpkin blushed, the smile returning to her face. "I mean, it's come up, but we haven't discussed anything in depth yet."

"With the look in his eye, I think you don't have much longer before he's asking."

"Oh?"

"I've only dealt with it twice myself, and been around it for other friends a few more times than that, but I have seen enough to know the look. He's asking soon, I'm sure."

♡ ♡ ♡

Never in his life had Will been more grateful for sunscreen. Not that he would admit it to Pumpkin out loud.

The sun had been out in all its glory all morning, and by some miracle, a pleasant afternoon breeze blew some clouds into view and allowed some facade of the cool air everyone wanted so desperately.

Don was reading the newspaper out loud, about Halicorp's recent action after they had entered a law suit and things had settled after everything with Rhodes.

Will perked up, the familiar rumble of Joanna's truck tires coming down the road. She honked, and he waved to his friend and his love as the truck came to a stop.

"Hey, you sure you don't wanna move into Rhodes' place?" Don asked, following Will towards the truck.

"Yeah, you can have it."

"You can have it for nothing."

"Miguel Silva saved my life. He invited me here. I think I'll stay." His smile grew as his eyes landed on Pumpkin - the very reason that Miguel had saved his life. The person his whole life revolved around.

She disappeared behind the truck to get things set up to serve, like she did every afternoon. Will's steps took him to stand next to Joanna for a moment.

"You think you're gonna be safe here? Rhodes had a lot of true believers working for him." Don's tone was slightly nervous.

"Carly, lunch!" Joanna called to her daughter.

"Let 'em come. I'm not going anywhere." Will smiled, turning to Joanna as he saw the familiar glint in her eye. "What?"

"She's like a sister to me now. Don't let her down." Joanna teased.

Will shook his head, walking past her to the back of the truck.

"Hey, honey. How..." His brow furrowed as he found her in tears, on the phone with someone. He took her into his arms. "Pumpkin, what's wrong?"

"It's Erin."

♡ ♡ ♡

previous chapter ♡ next chapter

series masterlist

#world in color #conspiracy #conspiracy 2008 #val kilmer #will macpherson #william macpherson #will ‘spooky’ macpherson #spooky #spooky and pumpkin #spooky x pumpkin

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goldencherriess · 2 years

Text

Goodbye, Lenin! || Loki x Mortal! Fem! Reader

Pairing: Loki x Mortal! Fem! Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: They make promises to each other.

Warnings: bittersweet chapter, nothing bad happens in this one, just the usual angsty feelings, fluff

A/N: Hello! Just dropping a quick author's note here for a lil history lesson. This chapter takes place in 1989, right when the wall of Berlin falls. That moment marked the beginning of The Iron Curtain's fall, all around Europe. This chapter's title is a saying from that time, when The Soviet Union fell. It's also a reference to a movie with the same name that tackles this part of history, I highly recommended as I did make some of research based on it. Thank you and have fun reading!

Previous part || Series masterlist

9 November 1989

The radio was buzzing in the background, static sounds reaching Y/N's ears. Her eyes fluttered open against the sun light and she let the glistening sky wash over her, as sleep slowly left her body.

Turning her head towards the right side of the bed, her hooded eyes met the empty and cold seat, only the wrinkled, white sheets betraying the once warm, presence of a body.

Sighing, she lifted her left hand and stared at the emerald stone on her finger. It sparkled in the light and threw green hues all around. A small smile threatened to break through and Y/N breathed through her nose, letting her hand fall against her forehead.

Twelve years had gone by in a whirl since she met Loki in front of the Buckingham Palace. She had called it fate. The sense of familiarity he brought when he was around her, overtook her senses. It was hard to miss and ignore the feeling in her chest when he did so little by smiling at her and drinking the sight of her in. On some days, words weren't exchanged, just fleeting gazes. And it was enough.

Now, with a ring around her finger and a warm bed, she felt complete.

A waft of pancakes travelled through the door to her, tickling her nostrils. A smile bloomed on her lips and she stood up, her bare feet touching the smooth carpet. She picked up the robe strewn on the chair in front of the bed and wrapped it around her tingling body.

She let the rich aroma of the pancakes be her guide, as she walked around the house, signs of Loki everywhere around her. His black coat was hung near the door, next to her own, his shoes were near her heels (she still hated wearing them, now being tempted to buy some converse for her aching feet), his toothbrush close to hers. Photos of them on the fireplace mantel. The ring around her finger. He was everywhere, in little things and in big moments.

Her feet padded across the kitchen, the cold surface pinching her skin, and her eyes met the back of Loki's head, his ebony hair falling down his shoulders in waves and knots. He was humming a tune under his breath, some foreign words spilling out. With a flick of his wrist, he flipped over a pancake, the sweet smell of it rising into the air.

Her arms found his waist and she left a lingering kiss on his shoulder. ''I thought you said you don't do midgardian things.''

Loki barked out a laugh. ''I think you might be rubbing off on me.'' He twisted around, taking her in his arms and burying his nose in her hair. A few white strands started to appear here and there, her eyes wrinkling not only because of her ever present smile, but Loki only saw her youthful soul. ''Good morning, darling.''

Her eyes fluttered shut, letting her head fall against his shoulder. ''Morning.'' A small smile settled on her lips and she basked in the glory that was Loki. His scent, woodsy and smoky, wrapped her in a warm cocoon. His cold fingertips, sent shivers down her spine as he drew circles on her back. His lips caressing the crown of her head told her things only she would understand. Him. ''I love you.'' she whispered.

''I know, you don't have to tell me-''

She shook her head. ''But I want to. What if- what if...'' Her breath got caught in her lungs, tears burning at the back of her eyes. ''I just feel like my days are numbered. What if tomorrow I wake up and you're not there? Or what if you wake up and I'm no longer present?''

Loki sighed and cupped the sides of her face, looking deeply in her eyes. ''You know I wouldn't let anything happen to us, to you.''

Her lips trembled and a tear slipped out. Loki's thumb dried it with a touch, his gaze never wavering from hers. ''Alright?'' he asked, a firm tone in his voice.

She merely nodded, before he leant forwards to plant a kiss on her forehead. ''I love you too, by the way.'' he voiced against her skin. ''So, so much. So much that it breaks my heart.''

Y/N drew a shaky breath in.

''But you make it whole again.'' continued Loki, trailing kisses down her nose and onto her lips. ''You make me whole again.''

Her hand trailed across his chest, stopping right on his heart. The low beats of it echoed through the rooms of her being and she let a sigh escape her lips. Two halves, one whole.

A stark smell of burnt dough reached her nostrils and her eyebrows pinched together. ''Loki?''

His hum rumbled in his chest, tickling the side of her face pressed against him. ''Yes, darling?''

''The pancake.''

His eyes snapped open and his whole body stiffened as his hands went straight into action, gripping the pan and taking it off of the stove. Y/N's eyes twinkled in amusement, watching him fumble with the pan. ''Hey, it's quite alright. It happens to the best of us.'' she said, gently taking the pan from his cold hands and putting the pancake onto a pristine plate.

Loki's nose scrunched up in annoyance. ''Easy for you to say! You have no trouble doing midgardian things. You know how to pick up a phone!''

''Yes, well I'm not the one who married on Earth.''

''Midgard.''

''Same thing.''

Loki's eyes wrinkled in a smile and he crossed his arms, leaning on the counter top. ''You know, we had this conversation before.''

''About pancakes?'' replied Y/N as she put a kettle on.

Loki rolled his eyes, a small smile still etched on his face, straightening his back to take out two mugs out of the chipped cupboard. His was emerald green, hers was fiery red. ''No. About how I chose to live on Midgard for you. Something about how I should oblige to its rules.''

She started smiling, turning her head to meet his gaze. ''And did you?''

He shrugged innocently. ''Not really. You know me, mischief all around.''

Loki failed to mention that, after her death in the 1950, all the mischievousness had evaporated. His eyes no longer held a playful twinkle and his smile no longer shone the brightest. When a slightly worried Thor approached warily to ask him what's been on his mind, Loki dismissed him, turning his back, hiding away the shards of his broken heart.

Now, with a mended heart and a singing soul, Loki was smiling at Y/N. His gaze slid off to the ring he gifted her years ago and his eyes lit up once again.

The whining of the already in brew kettle cut through the serenity and Y/N tore her eyes away from Loki, turning off the stove and rummaging through the cupboard. His hands came into her vision, a metal box shining in the morning light. ''Here.'' he said.

''You know me so well.'' she replied, fingertips brushing. She opened the box, the citric aroma of the Earl Grey filing the air in rich waves.

''How can I not? I've met you five times now. I know how much you hate wearing heels, but you keep wearing them anyway cause it's proper and that's just the times you're living in, I know how much you love sewing and how many times the needle pierced through your skin but you kept going because that's just who you are. I know how much you hate the white strands in your hair but I love them, Y/N. They're you.''

She stilled her moves, spoon of tea hovering in the air. ''I'm getting old, Loki.'' she said, avoiding his gaze.

With a gentle touch, Loki pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "And you're prettier than ever." he whispered.

A single sigh escaped her lips, before she turned her whole body towards him. ''I just wish there would be a way to remember you in my next life.''

His eyes turned sad, lips twitching ever so slightly. His hand fell limply to his side. ''I don't think there is, darling. But I don't blame you. You just choose to love me, how can I get mad at that when it's a blessing every time?''

Her eyes fell to the now turning cold kettle, voice soft. ''I'd remember you. I did when I met you back in '77.''

Loki froze, jaw slacked. He barely registered the words coming out of his mouth. ''What?''

With shaky hands, Y/N dipped the loose tea into the kettle, before meeting his eyes. They were turning a deep green now and she realized that she wouldn't be frightened if they were the forest she would get lost in. ''You seemed so familiar, Loki. Like I knew you from somewhere. My soul knew you before my mind did.'' She took a step closer, taking his hands in hers and caressing them. Her ring against him was like a cool and cleansing wave. It washed away his fears. ''I'll make sure I do next time too. Just be patient with me, alright?''

Loki smiled, bringing her left hand to his lips. He planted a soft kiss there, lingering just a moment longer. ''I promise.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The red scarf was blowing in the cold, November wind. Hands tucked in deep coat pockets. Nose and cheeks flushed. Steps in sync. That's how Y/N was walking besides Loki, the hum and rumbling of London coming alive.

Since they met, he had been overprotective of her, never letting her out of his sight and always accompanying her. It never did actually bother her, as his mere presence brought warmth in her chest. Shoulder to shoulder, step to step.

The wind picked up and ruffled her hair and she turned to look at Loki. He was looking straight ahead, taking in the busy life of London, the green scarf she knitted, when she first met him, around his neck. His eyes held a look of wonder, one you'd recognize on a child seeing something for the first time, seeing the sea crashing onto the shore with foaming waves. ''It's not your first time on Earth.'' she stated, although it sounded more like a question.

Loki shook his head. ''No. But it's like I see it for the very first time. There's so much you can do and recognize, when times are changing and everything you knew before isn't there anymore.''

Looking downwards at the grey pavement, she hesitated before voicing her thoughts. ''Was it... overwhelming?''

He turned to gaze at her. Half of her face was now buried in her scarf. ''It was more overwhelming to lose you every time than to see streets changing or people coming and going.''

Y/N's face turned a deep red and Loki had a suspicion it wasn't because of the prickly wind. ''You should stop saying things like that.'' she replied, voice muffled by the scarf.

''Why? I love to do it. It's the truth.''

She slowly lifted her head, meeting his unwavering and steady gaze. ''Because I'm afraid I'd spoil it.''

Loki's shoulders slumped and with a sigh he brought her closer, arm over her shoulder. ''Darling, I love you. So please believe me when I say you are everything and more. You could never spoil anything."

She let her head fall against his shoulders, a shiver running down her spine. Tucking her hands further in the pocket, she replied. ''It's really cold.''

He traced a kiss on her forehead. ''Then let me be the one to warm you up.''

She let her eyes close, relishing in all that was him.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The sun was now high in the sky and Loki was feeling the chills. Her fingertips danced across his skin, as she skipped ahead, heels clinking. It was a simple sight, but it weighed such a heavy meaning. It tugged at his heartstrings. Squeezing her hand, Loki nodded at a photo booth in the corner of the street. Her face got lit up by a blinding smile and she dragged him by the hand, much like she did back in 1977 to the grocery store for a Coca Cola.

Her slightly scarred hands pushed back the velvety curtains and she turned to look at him, only to find him already gazing at her. Gulping, she tore her gaze away to insert two pounds into the booth. Hearing a ding, Y/N shyly met his emerald and fiery gaze, once again.

''Why so shy?'' he whispered right before a flash went off.

''You make me feel things.'' Y/N replied, lightly touching his scarf and playing with its threads.

Cracking a smile, Loki leaned towards her. ''Well, I sure hope so. You're wearing my ring.''

Another flash.

Her eyes crinkled, a laugh filling the air. ''Ever the cheeky one, Loki. This is why I married you, actually.''

''You married me for my cheekiness?'' he smiled.

Her arms found his neck and she hugged him lightly. ''One of the many things.''

''What are the other things, darling?''

''Well, wouldn't you want to know?''

Noses touching, his hands around her waist. Flash.

''Now, who's the cheeky one?''

She laughed, pecking his lips before turning to look into the camera. She could feel his gaze on her, burning into her skin, lighting it on fire. Flash.

''The next time we meet, show me those photos and I'll remember.'' Y/N whispered into the crackling air between them.

''I will.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Stopping right in front of her workshop, she met his gaze into the reflection. He was ever so softly smiling, a twinkle in his eyes. Her heels dinged against the pavement as she turned to him. ''You were right.''

''About what?''

''About me becoming a tailor. You had faith in me.''

Loki tucked a white strand behind her ear, before cupping her face. ''Of course I did. Not once did I stop believing in you.''

Y/N stood on her tiptoes, planting a kiss against his lips. If you were to ask Loki what she tasted like, he would stop in his tracks, a rumbling mess, just because he wouldn't find the words to describe her. She was those shiny sun rays that danced around the room, filtering through the curtains. The aromatic tea in the morning. The warm bed he now slept in. The shy hand holding. The sweet kisses.

''I'll pick you up later.'' he voiced breathless.

''I'll be waiting.'' she said before disappearing behind the glass doors.

And then he was alone on the sidewalk, well aware of the photos in his pockets. The photographs were weighing down his coat pockets, but also making his heart soar.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Later that night, the stars were twinkling happily in the inky sky. The TV in the living room was buzzing, technicolor sparks all around and static sounds reaching their ears. Y/N was slowly falling asleep on his shoulder, a blanket thrown over both of them. Her eyes fluttered open when she heard the reporter on the TV screen speak.

''The wall of Berlin had fallen, thousands of people flooded the streets with champagne and sledgehammers, tearing down the wall with tears of joy and music...''

She sat up straighter, wide eyes and wild hair. ''History in the making.'' she whispered in awe.

Loki hummed, turning his head to look at her. ''History is not kind with its survivors.''

Her gaze slipped away from the TV to him, taking in his disheveled hair, but sparkling eyes. ''Will you be here when I wake up tomorrow?''

His hands brought her closer to his chest. ''Always.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: One more chapter and we're wrapping this story up! Thank you to everyone who's read it so far, it means the world to me. Writing this chapter hurt somehow cause it's a little bit bittersweet, isn't it?

Any feedback is greatly appreciated! Also, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my main tag list or the series tag list by sending me an ask or by commenting under this post!

Much love xx

Main tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

Series tag list: @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @strrvnge @salempotatosin @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @123forgottherest @glitterylokislut @lokidbadguy @highkeysimpingforloki @bored-as-hell-666

#loki x fem!reader #loki x reader #loki x female reader #reincarnation au #soulmates au #fanfic writing #marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #writing #my writing #masterlist #laura writes #angst #fluff #time after time

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stevethehairington · 1 year

Text

WIP WORD SEARCH

rules: share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

this post might be a long one because i was tagged by @pizzaqueen and @sidekick-hero so i got two sets of words to answer!! thank you both for the tag, this one is SO fun!!

My words were: trip, bag, shirt, sigh, light (from queenie) and help, lips, night, down, hand (from sandy)

TRIP

Steve sees him in the morning. Spends the early hours of the morning drinking him in, holding onto every look, every touch, every word. They go with Robin to the local diner for a pancake breakfast of champions, and Robin insists on paying for Eddie’s meal — her parting gift to him. Steve, on the other hand, gets Eddie an actual gift. Nothing much, just a little basket of his favorite road trip snacks for the bus — Hostess Ding Dongs and those individual mini boxes of cereal, fruit snacks and Doritos, a couple of Whatchamacallits, a box of Milk Duds, a packet of Twizzlers, a six pack of Mountain Dew.

(from a lil something i have dubbed "eddie leaves" 👀)

BAG

Refraining from scoffing and letting a bitchy comment roll off his tongue, Steve just swats her hand away and takes a step back. Robin opens her mouth to say something else about it, maybe crack another joke at its expense, but Steve doesn’t give her the chance. He turns on his heel and starts to head back towards where he parked the car. The handle of her bag is still in his hand, and he takes it with him because even though she’s actively insulting him, he’s still a perfect gentleman. He won’t sink to her level.

(from my mustache steve fic!)

SHIRT

“I smell like an onion,” Eddie laughs, trailing after Steve into his bedroom. He pinches the front of his shirt between two fingers and tugs it away from his chest. Follows up with a showy, dramatic sniff, then wrinkles his nose. “Should’ve made you cut the damn thing,” he laments, shaking his head.

(from my pwp ring fic; "shirt" showed up 5 times so far lol so i picked the first one!)

SIGH

Only Steve had failed to take into account just how central hands were to the art of pizzamaking. And he hadn’t anticipated just how crazy seeing Eddie’s hands in action like that would make him feel. (Which, in hindsight, was a huge oversight on his part — it should have been obvious that his fixation on Eddie’s hands flying over the strings and frets of his precious guitar was more than just an appreciation of his talent and skill.)

(also from my pwp ring fic! i didn't actually have just sigh anywhere yet (which what!! how!!) so have sight (two times!), which is close enough 😂)

LIGHT

Eddie holds his left hand out in front of him, splaying his fingers wide. The lamp light glints off of the silver of his three gaudy rings, and Steve watches, captivated, as Eddie twists them loose from his knuckles and, one by one, guides each up and off of his fingers. He sets them in a neat little row on top of the nightstand, then flexes his bare fingers.

(another pwp ring fic snip!!)

HELP

Eddie kind of sort of wants to bite. Into what? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t care, he’s not picky. Any of it will do. It’s embarrassing, how overwhelming the urge is, but fuck. He can’t help it.

(from my pre-s4 eddie watches steve swim fic!)

LIPS

He gets absolutely lost in the fantasy — Eddie holding himself above Steve, knees on either side of his thighs, with one ringed hand between Steve’s legs and the other gripping onto Steve’s hip, tight enough to leave a mark. A wicked grin on his face as he leans in close, presses his forehead to Steve’s while a string of low encouragements and dirty praises fall from his lips, pushing Steve closer and closer.

(pwp ring snip!)

NIGHT

It’s busy tonight, as it usually is on Friday evenings. Steve has to squeeze his way through the various parties surrounding the bar — people clinking their glasses together, laughing at the stories being shared, splitting classy charcuterie boards and plates of delicious looking curry fries (which Steve has on good authority are to die for. He makes a note to try and order some before he leaves).

(from the wip currently dubbed "of all the gin joints"; this was the closest i got to just "night"!)

DOWN

And, sure, he’s an eccentric boy, but there’s nothin’ wrong with that either. He’s got interests, he’s got hobbies. He’s got worlds he can disappear to when this one gets to be too much. That’s good for him. It’s great. It means even though it’s tried, life hasn’t beaten him down just yet.

(from wayne pov 4!)

HAND

He relishes in the sweet slide of his palm, quick and ruthless now, but wishes that his hand was a little more rugged, a little more callused. Once he lets his eyes slip shut, though, it becomes all too easy to imagine the right hand in his place — Eddie’s hand. His thick fingers wrapped around Steve’s dick, rough palm squeezing, sliding, touching him just so.

(from pwp ring fic! i think this fic was the obvious choice to choose from, considering the hand and finger kink is a HUGE part of it skdfsd and also currently "hand" shows up 44 times 😂😂😂 enjoy 3 of those 44 in this paragraph alone lmaoo)

no pressure tagging: @withacapitalp @toburnup @riality-check @hexiewrites @maxineholtzmann @maxinemaxmayfield @harmonictechnicality @2btheanswertothequestion @fastcardotmp3 @cheatghost and anyone else who wants to do it, consider yourself tagged by me!

your words are: care, freckle, expect, long, and sweet

#mack writes #tag game #this one was so fun!!!#excited to see everyone else's snips!!

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binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

telepatía | reader x binsung

a/n: hi cuties! hope ya’ll are are staying seggsy and cozy! ;) this piece is 100% self indulgent (hehe) as well as my first time writing a poly r/ship! since i’m new at it, any and all feedback is super super appreciated!! <3

telepatía | changbin x reader x jisung

~aka, my love note to binsung~

Pairing: self insert, seo changbin x female reader x han jisung

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: poly relationship, long distance r/ship au, established r/ship au, inspired by a song au, comfort fic, lil bit emotional but that’s bc they are in looove, idiots in love, softdom!binnie, hardswitch!reader, softsub!jisung, mentions of food, explicit language, masturbation (f), dirrrrty talking, hehe soft love makin’, lowkey size and corruption kink, unprotected sex, oral (m&f), face sitting, penetration (piv and anal), double penetration (f), nipple play (m&f), fingering (f), squirting, marking, multiple orgasms, creampie, ahhh soft n’ intimate body touching, cockwarming, shower aftercare, i am so sorry i got sooooo carried away teehee

Word count: 7.9k

Recommended listening: telepatía by kali uchis

Two months. Two months that had felt like eternity.

Your pen tapped at the table to your desk as you watched the minutes pass by. To your right, your desk calendar with your little countdown smiled at you with the little doodles had drawn along with the stickers that you had decorated there.

Five more days!

The golden hour of the day passed by outside your window upon the city that you had been calling home for the past two months. It was gorgeous. Unreal even. Studying abroad had been harder than you had expected--although it was often exciting at other times too. There was not a day that passed when you had regretting doing it, but there were other days when you had wished you could just transport yourself right back home; even if it meant it would be for only a couple hours of so.

During nights like these, your cramped little studio felt even more empty than usual. The colors of gold and pink would smear in the skyline along with pale pink clouds that looked softer and lusher than anything else in the world. In the springtime, the budding and green trees lined the outside of the apartment complex and birds twittering past would flutter their wings outside of your window cracked open slightly. As the days went by, the air warmed and became more humid, and smelled of luxurious primrose and hyacinths.

Your room was dimly lit by your desk lamp, and you hadn’t bothered to turn on any other light. Pages wrinkled, and your sense of loneliness came creeping in like the cold winter that the new season had now just chased away. You didn’t want the feeling to linger, but you couldn’t help but let it.

The sheets of your bed were cozy, much like the rest of the way that you had decorated your studio. The cream colored covers felt like silk on your legs, but where nothing compared to the touch that you craved.

Your phone clicked on with it’s blue-white light, showing your screensaver: a beautiful sunset image of that last walk that you had taken of the two of them before you had left.

If it were possible, you imagined that missing one person was enough to shatter a heart, but two people?

You hugged your phone to your chest, feigning some semblance of a hug to the two of them. Your nose sniffled as it grew more stuffed, and you let your suppressed sobs fill up the space of the room.

You were convinced that you must've been the the luckiest or the unluckiest person in the whole world: two loves of your life, two people to share it all with had been like a dream come true. It was finally something that felt like it made sense. But, to be so closely tied to two people, meant that being away from them hurt two times as much.

You imagined them with you in your room: they loved to sandwich you in the middle of them. This was their favorite place to have you. Nothing had been warmer and safer than that. Arms and legs would be all tied together in a way that made little sense, and both of their quiet breathing would tickle at the skin of the back of your neck and your forehead. If there was anything that you had guessed you missed most, it would be falling asleep with them. “I love you’s” would be whispered, and all space between you dissapear once the down comforter would be pulled to your noses.

No matter how hard you pretended that they were there, it was never the same.

[it takes three to make a thing go right] binnie, sungie, me

binnie: have you had dinner yet? please don’t forget!

jisung: [see image] this is what we’re having for breakfast! we wish you were here with us!

With shaking fingers you opened the picture to view Jisung’s attempts at cooking. He had been getting into it these days. You had almost wished sometimes that you had been there to try whatever he had concocted--even if it didn’t taste the best. Today it looked like he had tried to make fluffy pancakes with strawberries and cream...but they didn’t end up as fluffy as they should’ve been. Changbin was in the background of the picture making a couple finger hearts. Undoubtedly Jisung had asked him to do it for the picture: Changbin was more of the no-nonsense and stoic type with somewhat of a goofy edge. You and Jisung always knew how to make him melt. “You two are my weaknesses you know?”

sungie: don’t stay up too late either! finish strong before you come back, okay?

binnie: we really can’t wait to see you, five days can’t come soon enough.

You sniffled, sitting up. Had they been there then, they wouldn’t have liked to see you cry. Although your heart stung with a sharp pain seeing them so happy together, you brought yourself back together. You knew exactly how it would’ve been: Jisung would dry your tears gently, then cuddle right up under your arm to nuzzle into your shoulder. Behind the both of you, Changbin would spread his arms wide so both of you could be wrapped up in him.

me: i really miss you both. i miss you so, so much. i can’t wait to see you on Friday. don’t have too much fun without me until then :)

binnie: you kidding? we’re miserable without you!! i think that we’re both going crazy.

sungie: he’s right!! it feels so weird, it always has been these past months.

we’re not complete without you, y/n. we miss you too sooooo much.

and you know that bin gets crabby sometimes. when it’s just me around...

bin: hey! the hell you mean crabby?! i’m a frickin angel!!!

The way that you could read each of their messages in their voices brought you comfort, and you giggled a little reading the words.

sungie: relax! i’m just trying to make her laugh. did i succeed?

me: you did sungie. :)

bin: you forget that i’m sitting right next to you sung, you’re playing a risky game.

sungie: ooooh he talks such big talk, are you seeing this y/n? do you see what i mean? plz come back and save me!!!

bin: HEY

me: binnnnn go easy on sungie.

bin: i do!!!

i only go rough when he asks me too ;)

sungie: w o w

While it did make you laugh, it still hurt a little thinking about how even with you missing, their lives still went on, they ate meals together, went to concerts, movies, out to eat, and, at the end of the day, they still had eachother to cuddle up with to sleep. It hurt even more thinking about how they still had eachother to satisfy other comforts. Of course, you were still involved over the phone and video calls too, but with thousands of miles of distance, your hands alone could never feel as mind-blowing as theirs.

binnie: there will be plenty of that when you get back too y/n ;) sung has maybe had it too easy.

me: hmm too easy?

Jisung send a series of emoji stickers that all conveyed about the same message: oh my god i’m in trouble.

binnie: anyway, jokes aside, we are really looking forward to friday. sungie and i have been talking about it and we think we just want to spend the night in if that’s okay with you? you’ll be tired too.

As always, your boyfriends were the most considerate people in likely the whole world. You didn’t really want to be anywhere else, but just with the two of them; as close as you possibly could be.

me: that sounds perfect. <3

sungie: get some rest tonight!! in the morning get yourself something nice for breakfast, i can send you some money hehe

binnie: boyfriend of the year award over here ! !

sungie: hey, we’re both boyfriend of the year! duh, she loves us the same???

me: that’s very true.

binnie: pffff

sungie: don’t make me tackle you seo changbin, i am sitting right next to you

binnie: is that a promise?

me: boys, boys stop fighting, you’re both boyfriend of the year.

binnie: see? y/n, we’re a mess without you.

sungie: changbin, you’re my boyfriend of the year too. does that make you feel better?

binnie: maybe.

sungie: we’re keeping y/n from getting dinner. we should shut up now.

anyhoo!

we love and miss you a lot a lot. take care until friday! we’re almost there!!!!

binnie: BUT I LOVE HER MORE

sungie: bin, i love you, but please, shut up.

binnie: i’m joking!! sungie i’m joking. this is an equal relationship obviously.

By now, their usual antics had left your tearstained face dry, and the corners of your mouth sore from how hard you had smiled.

binnie: see you soon! goodnight y/n!

sungie: night y/n <3

You clicked your phone closed, then let your weight drop down to your pillow that held the smell of the evening air.

“It’ll be sooner than you think.” You sighed.

It was much too nice of a night to be doing homework, so you decided to push it off for just a couple more hours, flicking on your dinky TV set to a local station where they spoke in the language that you had been teaching to yourself for the past couple months. Here and there you could recognize a few words, but you mostly liked it for the noise.

You pulled your thin sheet over your bare legs, merely enjoying the simplicity of the feeling over your whole body.

there will be plenty of that when you get back home too.

we love and miss you a lot a lot.

Two months for imagining...and you had learned to hone your skill especially, even if it didn’t feel the same. Even though missing them hurt, you could still feel the love from them from thousands of miles away. They had said themselves that they didn’t feel complete without you.

The silky feeling sheets tickled at the hairs on your arms as your hand teased down your stomach, then toyed with the elastic of your panties under cotton shorts. You blamed it on the night being especially pleasant, or maybe it was just what you and needed at that moment.

You wondered how much they had missed you, if they thought of you when their hands would run over each other, or perhaps even if they would imagine that you were there with them when they hold each other close, tiny gaps and moans stick on their lips while they would pleasure each other too. You in fact had thought of them: Jisung’s pretty moans and the way that Changbin liked to suck little bites into his neck.

That spring air hushed into your window with the softness of a song, and curious fingers dipped into your folds and twitching bud which was wet to the touch. Your body jolted at the feeling of your fingers on your suddenly needy clit. Your mind ran wild thinking of the way that both of them had looked beside you, one of their hands dipping under the fabric of your panties and the other lightly twisting at your nipples too. Absentmindedly, your own hand reached to mimic the action on your breast while you remembered. Careful kisses would be pressed into your cheek and neck while they whispered adoring little praises in your ears.

“You’re so beautiful baby, like nothing else.”

“We love you so much. My princess, such a good girl for me, hm? You like how our hands look on you?”

Your body shivered at the memory, and you rubbed circles into your clit, gathering your own sticky slick to rub over the sensitive bud.

“Yes,” You whispered to the empty room.

The golden setting sun reflected fractals of tiny rainbows into your room--just as your prism had done hanging in the window back at home. It would reflect on the stucco walls, and the colors would streak on the ceiling. You would catch sight of them laying tangled up in scattered sheets with both of their bodies prowling over you in bare skin. You could trace the curves of their shoulder blades like the edge of perfectly crested waves. A faraway warmth swelled over your body, and you rubbed harshly at your bud craving more and and more. Your legs squirmed under the sheets: much like they would when they would bow their heads to tease at your clit with interweaving tongues, sandwiched between your thighs which they would pull back with starving fingertips. You could almost hear it: the way that your slick would drip over your pussy, and how they would taste it too on each others lips in between.

Your back arched recalling their praise. They would pull you between them once again, and fill your mouth with adoring kisses covered with multitudes of their love. Jisung would mewl little whines into your mouth, shaking from your hand wrapped around his cock, and Changbin kissed you like you were his reason for breathing: slow, languid, purposeful. He’d sigh out watching the way that you marked up Jisung’s body while pumping himself all the while.

“Binnie. Sungie.” Their names became your anchor while your rubbed wider, then slower, then faster. Your soaked fingers plunged into your pussy while your head danced with the memories of them filling you up, rolling their hips in as deeply as thye could, kissing into your chest or the crook of your neck. You curved your fingers to tease at your g-spot, but your clit was even more impatient.

“Do you want to cum for us princess?”

“I’ll cum for you...” Your breath hitched in that room all by yourself.

Your fingers wiggled back up to your clit, now hypersensitive from its lack of attention. Instantly, your orgasm built violently behind the twitching bud, and you threw your free arm back to grip into your pillow to steady yourself. Sweat had gathered on the underside of your thighs and on your back: it was a feeling so dirty that it only made your head feel lighter. It was as if they were in the room with you and you could see them clearly: enamored eyes dipped in lust that ate up your form until there was nothing left.

“C-close.” You shuddered, now with pruned fingers encircling until you drew yourself right to the brink.

You came with a forceful heat that swept over your whole body and sent your hips jerking up into the air and toes digging into the bed. Your incisors bit harshly at your lip, and you stifled your unsteady and high pitched moans the best you possibly could. In your apartment complex, the walls were thin enough for there to be little left to the imagination.

Your chest shook as you came down and you teased your bud, edging on overstimulation for as long as you could take it. Jisung had liked the way that you would convulse like this and Changbin would relentlessly give little slaps to your aching bud. Once you could take no more, you drew your hand back from the elastic, then you let the euphoria sweep over your body for a few moments of silence and tranquility.

Yes, you had done it to yourself, but without their help, there was no way that you could’ve shown your body the same kind of fervent love.

It was as if they could make love to you telepathically, even on this night when the sun was setting, and your bed was empty.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You hadn’t expected yourself to feel nervous meeting them at the airport. Still, your heart pounded in your chest with a ridiculous rhythm. It wasn’t like you had a completely different face or had changed anything about yourself remotely that would’ve shocked them. Still, a sense of anxiety swelled in you that was unexpected and unwarranted. Perhaps it was because it was so surreal.

There was something odd about the airport, it was likely how industrial it all felt with chairs that were lined with thin upholstery and carpets that held all kinds of mysterious stains. But, while it was a bit of a undesirable area, it was teeming with excitement. There were patrons at the magazine stands busying themselves flipping through books and laughing at the outrageous titles, people sitting joyously at the little restaurants and several hyper children tugging the hands of exasperated parents with neck pillows clinging to their strained necks. Further down the way, there was the sign illuminated pointing to the pick up area past baggage claim.

The air smelled overly filtered, but it was still as exhilarating. You took two escalators down and one moving walkway, then the light of the outdoors flooded the area with conveyor belts and the screens above them.

“Y/n? Y/n!!!!” Jisung’s voice called over the busy sounds of baggage claim filled to the brim with his excitement.

Before you got a chance to figure out where his voice had come from, your adorable boyfriend came charging at you with arms outstretched and an inhumanly large smile on his face. He scooped you up holding you so tightly that you had to teeter on your tip toes. While Jisung had a bit of a tiny frame, you never would’ve guessed from the scale of his hugs.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” He giggled out the words with a sense of disbelief, and he swung your body back and forth. “Oh my god I missed you sososo much.”

Another set of arms peacefully wrapped around you and Jisung and squeezed you in even tighter. In one of his hands, the cellophane from a bouquet of pink roses crinkled. “It’s so nice to have you back.” Changbin cooed, then reached to pat your head with his free hand.

You blinked back your happy tears the best that you could. The three of you broke, and you looked at both of your boyfriends right in front of you for the first time in what felt like forever. Changbin squeezed Jisung’s shoulder while the boy wiped a couple tears for the corner of his eyes.

You were biased, but they really were the most beautiful people in the world.

“I-I missed you both too, more than you can imagine.”

The two boys beamed, then presented you with your flowers.

“‘Hope you like pink ‘cause that’s the last color that they had left.” Changbin chuckled, and you nodded profusely.

“They’re gorgeous.”

You decided, after two months of not seeing the damn loves of your life, you deserved to kiss them--fuck the glares that you would get.

First you grabbed Changbin by the cheeks to press a smiling kiss right into his surprised mouth, and kiss him like you were a high schooler starved for attention that was forbidden to them. Still, your boyfriend grabbed your face back, rubbing tenderly into your own cheeks.

You winked to an equally shocked Jisung, “You next.”

You kissed the stutters away on his lips, and then ran giddy lips over his which cracked with a smile so wide it made it a little hard to kiss him. He wrapped both of his arms around you to pull you in close and you ruffled up his caramel blond hair the best you possibly could. Beside you, Changbin chuckled out proudly.

You had closed your eyes to kiss both of your boyfriends like they deserved. If someone had stared, well...you didn’t see it.

Jisung was out of breath after your parted, then pushed up his glasses in his surprise.

“That was....”

“--Lets get home!!” You shined with a smile, then took off in front of them. “Are you coming or not??”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Jisung decided not to subject you to his home cooking, regardless of the fact that you had said that you wanted to try it. You had ordered take-out, and ate it picnic style on the floor to your living room in front of the TV playing a movie that none of you payed attention to. Regardless of the fact that your jet lag had hit you like a truck, your pure adrenaline upon seeing them kept your eyes from becoming weary.

The normal questions had been asked: how are you classes, how is the food there, what are the people like, what is your apartment like, have you made friends etc. You asked Changbin about how his classes were going, and how Jisung’s part-time job at the café was and about the silly little things that you used to do as three, but they now had to as two. The consensus was that doing anything as two was strange and even a little awkward at times because they had gotten so used to having you around.

Changbin cleared the dishes, making space for you to make up your little pillow fort that you would do at times. “It felt like there was a piece missing from us. It was...really hard sometimes too.”

“It was for me too. Out there all alone...I had never realized that a bed meant for one person would be like, the saddest thing that there is on this earth.”

“Small bed no more!” Jisung piped, then proceeded to wrap both his arms and legs around you the best he could. “Also small shower no more.” He nuzzled into your chest.

One of the selling points of the apartment that you shared was actually the comically large shower that it came with. During the first few weeks after you had moved in, it was as if the three of you were physically incapable of taking a shower without the others being there. Changbin joked that it was as if they had made it just for the three of you in some kind of destined way.

“Hmmm well, I think that we should make use of that as soon as possible.”

Jisung let out a happy little hum in agreement then angled himself up to plant a couple quick kisses on your mouth and nose. Changbin threw down your array of pillows and other blankets, draping them over chairs to make a little tent like the three of you were toddlers hidden away in your secret place.

“Sungie sandwich!!!” Jisung suddenly gasped out, “Binnie come on!!”

Changbin scoffed, “I guess it has been a while...can’t say no to that.”

Jisung squealed and the two of you made space for your boyfriend to come slide himself on the other side and make a proper “Sungie sandwich.” He kissed careful lips into the crook of Jisung’s neck which made the other boy giggle out in a tizzy: not only was he sensitive there, but it would tickle him too. You reached your arms over to tangle your fingers up in Changbin’s dark locks which were just as soft as you remembered.

“This feels so amazing.” You sighed into Jisung who had crept his hands up your shirt.

“It does.” Changbin agreed. “We’re complete again.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Small bed no more was right.

Jisung patted the middle spot, wearing only a white tee and his boxers.

“Your spot awaits you princess.”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

Changbin sauntered over while he brushed his teeth, abandoning the idea of a shirt all together.

Your eyes widened, “...Bin--”

“--What?” He smugly smirked. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before?”

“N-no.”

Your other boyfriend scoffed, “He certainly knows that he’s hot, doesn’t he?”

“He sure does.” Changbin dished out a prideful wink.

With sarcasm laced in your voice, you turned to Jisung to say, “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that while I was gone.”

Changbin’s voice echoed from the bathroom “HE LIKED IT!”

Jisung waved him off, settling to beckon you under the thick and cozy comforter that you had daydreamed of more than once.

“Are you comfy?” He hushed.

“Mmhm! Comfiest I’ve been in months.”

Just as he always would, Jisung would wrap you up so tight that it might’ve been a little suffocating--but it wasn’t like you minded in the slightest. The top of his poofy hair smelled like grapefruits somehow, and you hadn’t realized how much you had missed it. The feeling of your bare legs intertwined, and there was nothing that came close to such a perfect feeling.

Your other boyfriend clicked off the light, then engulfed the both of you with his rather strong and intimidating arms. You knew for a fact that they were nothing but cuddly and harmless. Being like this with them was what you had missed most, and it was finally yours for the taking.

“Are you guys asleep yet?” Jisung whispered after approximately five minutes of silence.

“No,” Changbin murmured. “What is it?”

“I-I dunno, I can’t fall asleep, I just keep thinking...”

You flopped over to face him, “What is it Sungie? Everything okay?”

Your adorable boyfriend stammered, then shied under the comforter in the dark of the room. “I-I don’t know if now is the right time, but...” It was noticeable how his tone had changed; you and Changbin knew it well. Jisung’s pitch would raise and his voice would crack when he wanted something.

Changbin leaned over to click the light back on. “Sung, you don’t have to be so coy about it. I think that Y/n and I know you better than you know yourself.”

Jisung’s eyes widened in his embarrassment, “You what??”

Your headstrong boyfriend sighed, “Use your words Sungie.”

His cheeks turned rosy, then he peeped, “It’s just that it’s been a really long time and I can’t stop thinking about it, and...Bin and I didn’t really do anything for like a week cause--”

Your head whipped in Changbin’s direction, “What?”

Changbin nodded solemnly saying, “Let him finish.”

“--C-cause I wanted us to wait for when you came back so it could be like, extra special? Or...something like that.” He threw the blanket over his head. “It sounds so dumb when I say it out loud.”

You really didn’t deserve someone like Jisung. Not in this lifetime or the next. You felt your limbs practically turn to jelly to hug your shy boyfriend.

“It’s not dumb!! Not at all!! I think that it’s so sweet! You wanted to wait for me? Oh, baby...”

With the blanket pulled back, you held his glistening eyes with yours. He really was irresistible when he would get like this.

“I’m assuming that you wanna stop waiting, hm?”

Changbin joined you in leaning over the shiest of you three, then shrugged down the cotton of your loose t-shirt to paint kisses into your shoulder. In the chill of the room, the warmth contrasted beautifully.

“Yes or no Sungie? Because I defin--”

“--Yes! Uh--I mean, yes, but--only if you aren’t too tired or if you want to.”

“Sungie, how can I say no to you?” You bowed your neck to press loving little kisses into his lips which still tasted faintly of mint. He immediately give into you, grabbing out to hold your neck firmly as you did so. His hips squirmed slightly, as did his legs--he always was such an impatient baby.

Changbin scooched in closer to caress down your back as you filled your boyfriend with every single kiss that you had been waiting months to give him.

His voice was as soft as velvet, and full of his immense love for the two of you. Seeing both of you like this made him swell with such as sense of admiration, it was as if it was a high for him. “We’ll take care of you Sungie, we’d love to.”

Even from Changbin’s praises, Jisung’s whole body would shiver, and you could feel it on your tongue too when you had politely asked for him to allow you entrance.

Jisung set to work pulling your shirt up over your arms once you turned to Changbin to kiss over him roughly. He had liked it more that way: a collision of lips and teeth grazing over the softer parts of your mouth, gasps getting caught in between and the heat of tongues twisting as if you were as sweet as honey. As soon as you were rid of your shirt two sets of hands greedily crept up your body to twist and pull at your nipples which had hardened in seconds. Your head fell to Changbin’s shoulder while they teased and flicked at your sensitive buds until they hurt.

“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?” Changbin growled, then cradled your head to lay you down.

“The prettiest.” Jisung agreed, then hooked his fingers under the lacy part of your underwear that you might’ve worn with the purpose of them not staying on you for long. In return, you tugged at both of their waistbands for them to do the same. Cloth hit the bedside floor, and all that was left was Jisung’s shirt which you pulled off yourself. You only had a couple moments to look in the dim lighting of the room, but both of them had already dripped lightly with pearly drips of pre-cum and their hardening dicks throbbed against the mattress. Not only was it a heavenly sight to behold, but you knew that both of them were entirely for you.

Changbin leaned down to flick his tongue around your hardened bud, then used his hand to kneed at your other breast with his powerful grasp. Jisung pulled your face towards him with hungry little whimpers that tickled your bottom lip, so you returned the favor by pulling his with your teeth. He recoiled beautifully from the feeling, and you saw your prefect window to slither down his body and wrap your hand around his pink cock. At first, you grazed your thumb over his slit roughly.

“Did you miss my hand on your cock Sungie? Look at you...so hard for me, so worked up...do you want it that bad, baby?”

“Y-yes, p-please...”

Changbin kissed his way up your neck from your breasts sparkling from his saliva, then sucked love bites onto your collarbones and the soft parts of your neck. “Angel, I want to see you with Sungie’s dick in your mouth, can you do that?”

You nodded, reveling in Changbin’s instructions. There was something about being told exactly what to do that made you feel so pliable. Changbin knew it well. You then worked kisses down your boyfriend’s body, pausing for a moment to flick your tongue over his nipples in the way that made his whole chest flush with pink. He laughed out in his pleasure with an airy breath too. You kissed gently at first, teasing your lips over, then sucking harshly with a trailing of teeth. His back arched, and he let out a delightful “ah-fuck!”

You finished by peppering other little marks on his chest which faded from pink to violet in a matter of seconds.

“Babyboy, you wanna taste my cock too?” Changbin greedily rose to kneel, then pumped his fist with tiny trailing breaths.

Jisung’s eyes turned into full moons at the sight, then nodded excitedly while angling himself correctly. You and your boyfriend exchanged prideful little glances over the other’s eagerness. The pads of your fingers traced down Jisung’s thin frame, ghosting over his flaring abs and drawing little scribbles into his ribs. Your perfect position was set between this quivering thighs which welcomed you easily, and you took his deliciously pink cock in your hand to tease at him with thick stripes. You gathered saliva on your tongue so he could feel it, then used another hand to pump at him too.

Jisung flattened out his tongue to swirl it around his boyfriends angrily red tip and maintained eye contact as Changbin preferred. As the smallest boy dipped his head in closer, Changbin entangled his fingers with those gorgeous caramel trellises. He sighed out at the feeling of his cock hitting the back of Jisung’s throat, and groaned out lowly once he heard the other choke on it lightly.

“Fuck baby. Just like that..”

You then took in Jisung’s length as deeply as you could: and it was no easy feat. Where Changbin dominated in girth, Jisung made up for in length. The action sent Jisung whining helplessly on Changbin’s dick, which only drove the other boy further into his passion.

“You take me so well Sungie.” He cooed, and pulled out for Jisung to catch a few desperate gasps.

Your saliva gathered in the corner of your mouth, and you licked it up and down the sides of Jisung’s cock-- but only for a few moments. You swallowed him down, pushing down the back of your throat just as you had long learned how to do. Merely feeling the weight of him in your mouth sent your pussy throbbing and your legs twisting for some kind of sensation. Of course, Changbin had noticed.

“Open your legs sweetheart.”

You did as you were told, and his thick fingers came journeying through your soaked folds, and he toyed with your clit and slicked his fingers with your arousal. His index and middle finger circled around you: it was a sensation that you had dreamed of endlessly.

“Mm, Bin...” You moaned onto Jisung’s cock.

“Pretty pussy of yours must’ve missed this, hm? My fingers fucking your wet little cunt? I missed it too...”

You tried your best to maintain your strength once you had returned to sucking off Jisung’s dick, but you only seemed to unravel further. He rutted his hips into your mouth needily--an action which teased at your gag reflex, but you were stronger than that.

Jisung’s own slobber fell down the side of his neck which Changbin held, just so he could feel the way that he filled up his boyfriends throat. With his other hand, he dipped it further inside your pussy, fucking you slowly at first. You knew that he loved the way that your slick sounded on his fingers. In response, your helpless moans vibrated on your boyfriend’s dick.

“Y/n, I want your mouth too.” Changbin asked gravely with hooded and darkened eyes. You knew what you had to do next. His fingers slipped out from you, and you loathed feeling so empty, but you weren’t one to disobey him either.

Changbin made space for you to lay on your stomach next to Jisung and then tapped his wetted dick on your lips as well, leaving Jisung gasping next to you.

“Fucking show me how much you missed me.”

You took him in, and you had nearly forgotten how sizeable he really was. It was startling, and as soon as you took in his full length, you had to fight back tears over how thick he really was. Regardless, the way that he could stretch you out like this was purely addictive.

“Oh...fuck--baby...” Your boyfriends voice dropped several decibels. “My babies suck my dick s-so good don’t they?”

Jisung nodded in his wonder at you, and Changbin dipped his thumb into his mouth afterword. Jisung always did love the taste.

Changbin caressed your full cheek, “Don’t forget to share.”

You took a deep breath, then let Jisung take his turn again. As he did so, you resumed your work at jerking off his dripping tip, and he reached to slide between your folds with long fingers.

With both of your adoring glances, you and Jisung kissed and lapped up the sides of your boyfriend’s dick and his eyes rolled back at the ethereal sight.

“H-holy sh-shit--”

Your hips buckled once Jisung let his fingers plunge inside of you and high pitched mewls sent you clawing at Changbin’s hips for balance.

“W-wait...” Changbin pulled himself away, and you knew that he must’ve been practicing the best restraint he could. “Sungie, you wanna taste her pussy too? Taste how sweet she is?”

Jisung smiled widely, despite being a bit of slobbery and tear-stained himself.

“I’ve been waiting for months to!”

You looked to Changbin for approval.

“Sit on his face then sweetheart? Wouldn’t you like to ride his face for me?”

You nodded in your thrill, and the bedsheets crinkled under the sound of the three of you shifting your bodies back into the proper position.

As it often would, the windows to your room fogged with steam--even though it was a beautiful spring evening. Pillows were strewn everywhere, and some of them nearly fell off the bed. Nevertheless, you had never been cozier wrapped in the clean threads and with your sweating skin pressed against heated bodies.

Jisung firstly kissed at your wet lips, teasing and humming happily into them. He grabbed onto both of your thighs to open you further then pulled your folds apart to kiss directly on your bud--an action which sent you nearly screaming over how intense it all felt.

“You can be loud for us baby. There’s nothing to be scared of here.”

It was as if a switch had flipped within you, and each and every lap of Jisung’s tongue felt like the most euphoric sensation you had ever experienced. He looked utterly adorable under you with his pink and juicy tongue running stripes over your clit. Merely watching him like this was enough to bring you to your first orgasm.

“D-don’t stop S-sung...” You rolled your hips over his lips.

Changbin had snaked himself farther down Jisung’s body which glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He clicked the bottle of lube, then smoothed it over his length, finally aligning it over the smaller boy. Your hands grabbed out for something to hold onto: one of them within Jisung’s hair, and the other squeezing painfully into the headboard.

“Rough or slow Sungie?” Changbin laughed out wickedly.

“R-rough...” Jisung moaned onto your pussy, “H-hard...”

Changbin entered your boyfriend carefully, and both of them shuddered at the feeling. The room was full of all of your eroticism, and Jisung groaned out loudly at the connection. From the sounds your orgasm drew itself out too, and it was heightened even more when Jisung moved to pump his fingers deeply into you as well. He curved his fingertips in the way that grazed your cervix, and then sent you quivering pathetically over his face. Lower, Changbin dug his fingers into his boyfriends hips slamming into him without pause, and panting haphazardly.

“C-can yo-you cum for me??” Jisung whimpered in a way that was much too cute for his own good.

“Yes.” You answered, then fucked your hips over his plush lips and you clenched your teeth hard against your lip “Mm-fingers, Sung--please...”

Jisung did as he was told, and maintained his pace stimulating your g-spot then, and begging an orgasm out of your body. He himself whimpered like a puppy while he was fucked out. Had you not been focusing on your orgasm, you wished you could see it all happen.

“Ji--fuck--” Your hips violently shook, and you came with a searing heat that locked your walls tight around his fingers and dripped even further down your shaking thighs and splattered into his delicate features. It didn’t startle him at all, but he merely licked his lips free of your slick.

“B-Bin--” He gasped out, then you fell down in your aftershocks to watch the way that Changbin spread out your gorgeous boyfriend with sweat dripping down his chest and from his brow.

“Ride him, baby.” Changbin immediately ordered. “I want you to cum all over his dick, got it?”

With grabby hands, Jisung pulled you right into his chest once you had straddled him. He played with your nipples for a few fleeting moments as you got situated pushing his cock into your pussy still trembling from your last orgasm.

It was beautiful how he could fill you up like this. It was intimacy incomparable a closeness that only you had shared with him. In fact, he had actually been somewhat of a virgin when the three of you had met, and both you and Changbin were his first time. Knowing that he had only shared this part of himself with you and your boyfriend felt intoxicating in a way.

You flicked your hips over his length, and focused your strength on fucking him slowly compared to how relentless Changbin kept his pace at.

“I love you baby. Jisung, I love you so much.” You held his gaze.

Two tears fell from his cheeks--not out of sadness, but of his pure love for you.

He begged with a quivering lip, “Please kiss me.”

And you did. You kissed Jisung like he was as fragile as flower petals that could break with the smallest tear. You kissed his lips as sweet as candy and you kissed the last bits of your arousal away on the corners of his mouth.

Still, “Harder...” He begged, and your hips dipped lower and quicker over him.

“Want me to fuck you harder babyboy?”

Changbin threw his hands on your shoulders, then ran them down your spine to feel the way that you moved over Jisung’s dick.

“Want us to fuck you until you can’t say any more?” You tutted.

“Fuck, Sung, you feel so--”

“G-gonna make me cum-ngh!”

Changbin angled the boys hip up a bit further, and the sound of skin on skin filled the room.

You sang out the phrase, “~I didn’t hear you say it Sungie~”

Jisung’s face screwed up, and he gasped out loud enough for the neighbors to likely hear, but that didn’t matter in the slightest.

“Fuck me please.”

The thickness of the air in the bedroom clouded, and you fucked your beautiful boyfriend with your tightening walls as hard and as fast as you could, right until you brought yourself to the brink of another trembling orgasm, right over his dick. Changbin gifted a stinging slap to your ass then bit kisses into your shoulder right as you came undone for the second time, and Jisung’s eyes rolled to the back of his head once he came inside you at the very same moment. Your velvet walls tightened around his ribbons of cum inside and you collapsed against his gasping chest to warm him after his release.

Changbin set himself loose, groaning out loudly as he came too, and shook with delighted laughter that was mixed up in his happy little “oh’s.” and the hitch of his breath. His restless hands caressed every inch of your body that he could as he brought himself down, finally bowing down to kiss right into your shoulder blades and back. Jisung called out his boyfriend’s name too while he shook around him.

You coaxed yourself free of Jisung’s dick and Changbin wondered in the way that Jisung and made a creamy mess of your pussy. He then did the same watching how his seed spilled out of Jisung as well.

“Wow.”

The three of your sweating bodies clambered flat onto the mattress and the room fell quiet, leaving space for your breaths and the way that the spring evening sounded outside of your window: distant car horns, the hush of the breeze, the ebb and flow of the early arrival of cicadas.

“Are you okay?” Changbin asked the both of you with worried hands running over both of your sweating forms.

“Y-yeah. I am.” You smiled.

Jisung shied his flushed face with one of the bedsheets. “Me too.”

“I think...if you’d like, maybe the three of us could kind of, sorta, I dunno, stay connected for a little bit?” Changbin smoothed down the little hairs on your arm with the gentlest touch.

“If Y/n wants to?”

You exhaled peacefully into both of your boyfriends arms, and gave them a little hum to say yes. Changbin carefully wetted his dick with your slick, then guided himself into you pussy with his half hard dick, and it felt like a dream. Jisung too took a bit of lube in his hand as well, then pumped his dick with a shiver to then slide himself into your ass. The two of them swept over your body with light and fleeting kisses to your neck, shoulders, cheeks, nose and lips. You stayed the same: wonderfully full, and so close to them that it must’ve been unreal. While it hurt a little how they had stretched you out, you wiggled your hips still to feel even more of it. Your boyfriends sighed out at the feeling.

“Sweetheart, you do that any more and you’re gonna make us want to fuck you again.” Changbin scoffed.

“What if I want you to?” You traced the way that his deep brown hair curved over his ear. “What if I want you to fuck me like this...close...slowly...?”

“Sung?”

“If she wants to, I want to as well.”

Changbin held your hips firmly under the blanket, then started his slow thrusts into you with his dick that indulgently grew hard once more.

He whispered the promise over your lips, “We can do that for you baby.”

You don’t know how long the three of you had remained as such. Time became nothing of your concern as the night slipped on and both of them took every ounce of their time with you, slowly fucking up into your pussy and ass, the sounds of your slick renewed filled up the room. They brought out a couple more shaking orgasms from your core, each of them followed by careful kisses to soothe your shaking body.

“Such a good girl for us.” Jisung nibbled into your ear. His hand got tangled with the sheets too where he reached around to twist your nipples between his fingers.

“How do you want it baby? Do you want it inside?”

Changbin’s skin filled up your palm, then you slung a leg over his hip so he could hit your g-spot perfectly.

“P-please?”

“Of course. Sung?”

“--Mm-m’ close too.”

A few more moments of your symphonic moans, and you unfolded between them: one last orgasm that was so encompassing that you had slipped right into a space so safe, that you felt as if nothing in the world could touch you. Changbin finished off with unexpectedly adorable sounding grunt, and he throbbed within you to the tune of Jisung doing the same.

“Shit.” Jisung giggled, then nuzzled his head right into the nape of your neck.

“How was that angel?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

The three of you found solace in the skin on skin of it all: three people, three bodies that could be closer than two bodies ever could.

“Ready to clean off in our big-ass shower?” Jisung wiggled you in his giant hug.

“Small shower no more.”

“The problem is, who’s gonna get up first to get the water running?”

Condensation dripped down the windows, and the curtains blew softly with the spring air invading the room and carrying the smell of flowers and the mist lingering in grass.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Water dripped like rain over the pink of muscles and intermingled with the iridescent drops of soap bubbles which held little rainbows in and of themselves. Hair slicked to the sides of faces, and transparent streams coursed down the simple breaths on rising chests. Steam filled up your lungs, a reminder that it was all real.

You were here with them. It wasn’t some kind of dream that you had painted while in that room alone with yourself and the buzzing of a TV speaking in tongues that you didn’t know.

Even though they said nothing, but rather touched your body down, you could hear their thoughts like a melody.

They loved every bit of you, and it was written on their faces times two.

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @julesinthesoop

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

The Chief | Night Terrors (1)

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: The prestigious department of police and investigations in Seoul, Korea, is called to the small town of Cape Springs in rural California. Nothing is quite what it seems here.

Warnings: Blood, violence, you know crime stuff? Fluffy stuff somehow

Genre: Mystery, Crime, Angst, a lil humor, sexual innuendos, BUT I DON’T WRITE SMUT OKAY

Word Count: 7.2k Words (Holy guacamole. This took forever to write.)

A/N: Let me know your thoughts! Any suspects? Just message me if you want to be tagged! I’m sorry there’s literally no Reader in here, but she’s coming in next chapter, I swear. No, you did not stumble upon an x OC fic, and no I did not tag this wrong, just bear with me XD. Please please read this one, it sets up some good background.

Thank you so much to @seokjinsultimatesimp / @kingbewwy for helping with my story planning and ideas!!

Beautiful header by the wonder @dee-ehn / @dnrequests

Other:

Series Masterlist

Normal Masterlist

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The flight was long. Long, tiring, and utterly boring. Jungkook knew he should have packed something to do on the plane. He had been dependent on the movies in first class and reclining chairs to pass the time. Well, now he was halfway through his fourth movie and sleep was nowhere in sight. Yoongi was quiet across the aisle from him and Taehyung was watching a movie next to him with some snacks he raided from the service cart. Not wanting to bother either of them for entertainment, especially Yoongi, he decided to sit in silence. The movie was getting boring so he turned it off and prayed sleep would arrive.

It did not.

He arrived, jet lagged and lacking 13 hours of sleep.

“Did you sleep?” Taehyung tilted his head as they stood to collect their belongings from the baggage claim. The boy just tiredly shook his head.

“Hah, guess we’ll have to be getting you coffee!” Seokjin chuckled, having slept most of the flight in peace. Yoongi, despite sleeping for the entire 13 hours, still looked exhausted. The others just seemed focused on getting their luggage and leaving. They had a lot of suitcases to store their equipment. Jungkook rolled his eyes at his older counterpart.

“I’m fine.” But as he said it, a huge yawn ripped from his chest. Jin grinned, but didn’t mention it as Jungkook’s ears started turning red with embarrassment.

“Guys, we have to get going.” Namjoon announced.

“Aye aye, chief.” Jimin saluted cheekily. Namjoon just pressed his lips into a thin line, not amused. The younger male just sighed and nudged the police chief. “You really need to loosen up.”

“And you need to remember that we’re here to solve a murder.”

“Even better! It’s several murders!” Taehyung chirped, earning a glare from his superior, Yoongi.

“Aish, you kids.” Hoseok scratched his head. “You shouldn’t be excited that a bunch of people are dead.” He muttered.

“Sorry, hyung, we just rarely get cases that Joonie agrees to investigate. How else am I supposed to keep up with Yoongi if I never get any experience?” Taehyung glared right back at Yoongi. The older man muttered something under his breath and dragged the younger away by his collar.

“Where are they going?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow. He was still trying to get used to the group dynamics and while he wasn’t entirely innocent, he tried to fill up that role in the meantime. The other members looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Kookie.” Jimin winked. “He’s probably...teaching Taehyung his place.”

“Oh…” Jungkook tilted his head, trying to make the connections. “So like yelling? Hyung could’ve just done it here. I mean, he does that all the time!”

Jimin exchanged a look with Jin. Jin shook his head, Jimin smiled.

“Kookie, no, Yoongi’s going to-”

“Oh my god, he’s too innocent.” Jin cried, rushing to cover the maknae’s ears.

“Too innocent for what?” A lazy drawl came across the group, making Jin and Jimin jump. Namjoon chuckled and Hoseok pretended to be distracted on his phone, only stealing a quick glance up.

Yoongi’s hair was messy, as if hands ran through them several times. His lips were swollen and he had a large dark spot on his neck, which he quickly covered with his shirt collar when he saw them staring. Taehyung trailed behind him, dazed. He looked relatively the same. Jungkook jumped into action, shoving Jin away.

“Oi! Yoongi-hyung, I know you wanted to teach Tae a lesson, but isn’t that too rough?!” He shouted pointing at the other’s ‘bruise’. Hoseok began giggling and Yoongi turned impossibly red.

“Oh yeah, he taught me a lesson for sure.” Taehyung chuckled. Jungkook gaped, eyes flicking between the two.

“But he didn’t need to beat you up! Why are your lips swollen and there’s obviously a bruise on your neck!”

Yoongi began laughing softly and Taehyung’s ears went red. Namjoon sighed and dragged Jin over to help load the car. Hoseok was quick to follow, leaving Jimin to watch the scene unfold.

“We didn’t beat each other up.” Yoongi explained with a grin.

“So someone else did?!” Jungkook’s nostrils flared with anger. “Where?!”

“Slow down, coffee boy.” Taehyung said, amused by his younger friend. “You wouldn’t be able to fight anyone off.”

“Okay fine, but I could hold my own!”

The two began to open their mouths to respond when Namjoon shouted at the remaining four.

“Get over here! We’ve got a long ride.”

Jungkook rubbed his temples, scrunching his eyebrows up in distress. “Fine, I’ll drop it, but you better tell me soon.” He said in a huff and stomped off to the van, leaving Jimin, Yoongi, and Taehyung to burst out laughing while the youngest pretended not to hear them.

The town of Cape Springs was old. Old as in ‘stuck in a total time warp’ old. It looked like nothing had been updated since 1950. The van felt out of place, despite the various modern vehicles littering the road. Main street was all one story, one street. The boys looked peered curiously out the windows. The town could be considered charming if it weren’t for the murders happening every Saturday.

A stomach growled from somewhere in the van and it set everyone else off.

“You know, I’m kinda hungry, Joonie.” Taehyung said. “I missed breakfast on the plane.” He complained.

“Yeah, me too.” Yoongi agreed reluctantly.

“You slept the entire time, you lazy ass. What are you even using all that energy for?” Hoseok snorted.

“Thinking, you dumbass.” Yoongi retorted. “Unlike what you do all day, I actually use my brain.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Head Investigator.” Hoseok said, clearly annoyed by his comments.

“Yoongi and Taehyung aren’t the only ones.” Namjoon finally gave in, tired of listening to them bicker. It often felt like babysitting children and not a team of well trained detectives, investigators, and policemen.

Then there was the actual child of the group, 24 year old Jungkook. He was far too innocent for someone of that age, to his hyungs, having grown up around the protective nature of the other boys. Jin pulled into an open spot and parked the car. Taehyung and Jimin threw open the door, rushing to get outside and tumbling out in a heap. The other men chuckled at their antics.

“You clumsy idiots!” Yoongi reprimanded, climbing out and helping them up nonetheless. Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Jimin just pouted. The townspeople passing by were quiet, eyes trying not to stare at the obvious newcomers.

“Let’s go to this diner.” Namjoon said, pointing to a faded sign that read Betty’s Diner. Jin’s eyes surveyed the street. Despite their being people with modern clothing and devices, it still felt like they were transported back to the 1950s.

“It’s not like there’s much of an option.” Jungkook pointed out, gesturing around the small mainstreet. It was either Betty’s Diner or Isabella’s Ice Cream Parlour and there was only one that held savory food. Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Hoseok fought to get through the doorway at the same time, earning an annoyed look from the locals inside.

“Great, we’re making such a nice first impression.” Yoongi mused, gazing at the four men arguing at the door. Namjoon tried to soothe the wrinkles between his brow as he nodded along.

“You guys are going to give me wrinkles before I’m 40.” The police chief sighed.

When they could finally sit, they were put at a table in the back. The diner had to move several tables and chairs together in order to accommodate. As they ordered, they didn’t even notice the dirty looks they were getting. Seven new, rowdy, men have arrived in town. That could only mean trouble.

“I do not snore.” Namjoon said, offended.

“You do too!” Jin fired back. “I sat next to you for 13 hours and god knows how many nights I’ve spent in your-”

“That’s enough!” He cried, exasperated. The poor man was always under scrutiny from his partners. He loved them all dearly, but dear god it could be a lot to handle. Jin frowned and huffed, looking away.

“One order of french toast and orange juice.” A waiter interrupted, tone harsh. The group turned to him, surprised. The name tag read ‘Hak-kun’.

“Here.” Taehyung raised his hand awkwardly after a brief silence. The waiter let out an annoyed sigh and practically threw the plate down with the glass.

Taehyung cautiously pulled the plate toward him and the other men eyed Hak-kun. The waiter stormed away without another word. The cook was watching him, everyone in the diner was watching him. There was muffled shouting and next thing they see is Hak-kun is when he’s leaving, throwing his uniform apron onto the ground in frustration. The locals stared before going into a muttering frenzy. Anger issues….always fired...psycho...etc etc.

“Should I have gotten pancakes instead?” Taehyung asked after a tense silence. Yoongi narrowed his eyes.

“Obviously. Who eats french toast for lunch?” He scoffed.

“Pancakes aren’t exactly a lunch food either.” Jin piped up.

“But at least they fit into a category.” Yoongi started, ready to rant. “They know their place. They’re a breakfast food! French toast is like in mealtime limbo. Nobody ever wants french toast just for breakfast; they can also have it for lunch and dinner!”

Jimin was in a fit of laughter at the usually subdued man’s outburst.

“Think they poisoned it?” Jungkook playfully nudged Taehyung who grumbled something under his breath. It sounded an awful lot like ‘They might’ve’. Lunch continued as normal. Yoongi sat in silence for the rest of the time while Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin made the group laugh with their antics.

The police station was dusty. Old and dusty, looking like a ghost town. Namjoon peered inside, glancing around to see a bored desk attendant. He waved, but the attendant even spare him a glance. Jin cleared his throat. The attendant jumped, looking up with dazed eyes.

“Oh, hello? Has there been an emergency?” He asked with a questioning gaze. The seven men shifted awkwardly.

“Uh, hello, we’re from the Bangtan police department. Were you not expecting us? We can come back at another time-” Namjoon began and the man quickly stood.

“No! Not at all! Sorry, it’s been slow recently.”

The men exchanged glances.

“But...there have been a lot of murders recently, have there not?” Yoongi tilted his head. The man was sweating and they couldn’t tell if it was because it was hot or because he was guilty of something. Of course, Yoongi and Taehyung tended to intimidate people, it was part of their job, so that could also be the issue.

“Yes! That’s why you’re here. Uh, I’ll grab the chief.” The man quickly left, rushing into the back. He opened a door into the backroom and loud talking could be heard before it was muffled once more by the door.

Namjoon looked lazily down at his watch, Jungkook tapped his foot nervously, Yoongi was whispering with Taehyung, Jimin was giggling about something with Hoseok, and Jin kept his eyes trained on the door.

A pudgy man walked through the door, a faded blue officer uniform on. He took in the men standing in his station, then looked uneasily back at the attendant. They exchanged looks and then the attendant scurried back to the desk, shrinking in his seat. The chief smiled at the men.

“Hello boys!” He said cheerfully. “Welcome, welcome! When did you get in?” He ushered them into the back where there were empty desks lined up next to each other. Dust hung in the air, only seen in the thin streams of light coming through the slats in the windows.

“We arrived a few hours ago, we ate at Betty’s Diner.” Namjoon said. The others nodded along with the statement. The police chief’s eyes sparkled.

“Ah, great food yeah?”

“Definitely!” Taehyung piped up, only to be nudged hard by Yoongi. Despite being part of Yoongi’s investigative team, he had trouble reading the room. The chief seemed cheerful but there was an odd cloud of tension.

“What’s your name, sir?” Namjoon cut in.

“Oh right, you can call me Officer Nam.” He held out his hand and Jin reached forward, shaking it.

“Officer Kim Seokjin, but I go by Jin.” Jin introduced himself.

“You can call me Namjoon.” The younger man smiled, taking Officer Nam’s hand after Jin and gave him a firm shake. Before the office could respond, the other men were taking his hand, shaking it and introducing themselves.

“Officer Min, head of investigations.”

“Oh don’t mind the grump, I’m Officer Kim, but just call me Taehyung. This dumbo is Yoongi.” The energetic man shook Officer Nam’s hand several times excitedly.

“Hoseok.” The other officer was formally trained. He gave Nam a firm handshake, his grip like iron.

“I’m Jimin, pleasure to meet you sir.” The smaller man smiled widely. Officer Nam returned the smile warily. “That’s Jungkook.” He nodded towards the younger boy who had fallen silent. “He’s training with us, he’s mostly here to observe the process.”

“Sorry, we can be a bit much in the beginning.” Jin said. It didn’t take a detective to see that Officer Nam was overwhelmed.

“Oh it’s quite alright. There hasn’t been much we’ve been able to figure out much information with these murders. People are on edge, ya know? They clam up, won’t talk much.” Officer Nam explained. “We often leave it to our intern to handle public affairs, she’s more versed in...talkin’ to people.”

“Intern?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, speaking for the first time. The officer seemed surprised to see him standing there, but nodded nonetheless.

“She’s studyin’ to be an interrogation officer and needs some experience with a more experienced crew than us. The town is usually quiet.”

“I see.” Namjoon murmured.

“She won’t get in yer way!” Nam exclaimed, shaking his head. “She’s just a little shy.”

“Where is she?” Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, she should be clocking in right about...now.” The office glanced at his watch. As if on cue, the door squeaked open.

“Officer Nam? I’m here!” A soft voice called into the station. The men whirled around to see a small girl. She looked almost fragile with dark hair and a lithe frame. She looked startled to see the seven brooding men. “Sorry!” She squeaked, ready to flee the room.

“Actually!” Officer Nam interrupted, halting her in her tracks. “Come here, I want to introduce you to Bangtan Police.”

She tentatively walked in. She looked like prey walking into a lion’s den; and she could’ve been with the way they were looking at her.

“Yes?” She shakily pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“This is Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook. They’re from The Bangtan Police Department and I’d like you to spend the remaining time in your work study with them to help solve this case.”

“W-why?” She turned, alarmed, to look at her superior.

“Because they have much more experience and you haven’t gotten much experience with us here.” He explained, his gaze filled with something akin to fatherly love. “Now, introduce yourself.” He nudged her towards them.

The girl looked up hesitantly. Her gaze flickered away quickly, despite the encouraging smiles on their faces.

“I’m Hae-won.” She murmured. “It’s a pleasure to meet you and I hope we can work well together.”

The boys were already swooning, hearts beating loudly. Once the chief left to discuss details with Namjoon, the boys split off to look around. Jungkook immediately took a place next to Hae-won.

“Hey, Hae-won.” He grinned. She flushed and looked away. He was reminded of Y/N, but Hae-won was 10x shyer it seemed. “Wanna show me around?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Now come on, how are you going to be an interrogation officer if people can barely hear you? Speak up.” He teased. Hae-won looked up startled, eyes wide.

“Oh right, yeah, that.” She murmured, more to herself than anything, but Jungkook heard it.

“Do you not want to be an interrogation officer? That’s perfectly fine, y’know?” Jungkook paid no mind to her confused expression. “It’s not perfect for everyone.”

“Hm.” She didn’t seem amused, just lost in thought. She seemed to notice the awkward pause, however, because she tugged on his arm. “Right, let me show you my favorite part of this station!”

As Jungkook was dragged away, Yoongi spoke with Jin.

“The people here are...odd.” the paler man spoke.

“It’s a small town, Yoongles.” Jin said.

“I guess...and don’t call me that.”

“What?”

“Yoongles.” The man scoffed. Jin swatted his arm.

“Now, is that anyway to talk to your hyung?” The older man teased.

In the corner, Taehyung and Jimin were looking around the empty station.

“Where is everyone?” Taehyung scrunched his nose, trying not to sneeze as a plume of dust flew into his face. Jimin ran his finger along the edge of a desk, tilting his head as he looked at the fine layer of grime on his finger.

“Not sure. Maybe it’s just an off day.” Jimin shrugged, wiping his finger off on his pants.

“I mean, why have all these desks if you don’t use them?”

“Hae-won suggested we get them.” Officer Nam said, arms crossed as he appeared in the doorway. Taehyung jumped, goosebumps running up his arms as Jimin tapped his foot nervously.

“Why?” The detective asked.

“She said ‘just in case’.” The officer mimicked the young girl. They surveyed the room. Eight desks.

“Hm. Interesting.”

Officer Nam just shrugged nonchalantly. “That girl can be a little weird sometimes. She’s too eager, too soft for this line of work.”

“I’m sure she’ll get the hang of it.” Taehyung suddenly felt the need to defend the poor girl. Officer Nam’s lips slid into a sleazy grin.

“I see.” He said.

“Let’s split up.” Namjoon announced upon arrival. The alleyway was in a rather shady part of the town. There was fresh blood on the stones, a smear on the pavement, an arc of blood across the wall. None of them even flinched, not even Hae-won.

“I’ll take Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jimin.” Jin said. “Let’s look over the crime scene.”

Taehyung nodded, pulling out his camera to take pictures. Yoongi crouched near the blood smear on the pavement and Jimin wandered around, handing them gloves and then running his hands over every seam in the wall.

Namjoon took Hae-won, Hoseok, and Jungkook to interview witnesses and the surrounding townspeople.

Jimin knelt on the ground, hand running over a soft texture. Curious, he carefully picked up the object. In his hand was a soft tie, one that looked oddly familiar. He lifted it to the air, examining it in the fading sunlight. It looked new, not exactly a week old. It was possible that it was planted there, but he needed to bring it in nonetheless. The pink haired man took out a ziploc bag and placed the tie inside of it before sealing it up once more.

“Who was the victim and how was she found?” Hoseok asked, holding a notepad and pen. Officer Nam scratched his head for a minute before walking over to the spot.

“Right here.” He gestured to where a pool of blood was at the end of the blood streak. “She was leanin’ up against this wall, throat slit as y’know.”

“Mhm.” There was the scratch of the cheap pen against the notepad as Hoseok wrote down his words. “What was her name?”

“Mun-hee.”

“Great. Thank you for your cooperation, if you have any further information, please do tell us.” Hoseok dipped his head. Hae-won observed from a distance, standing next to Namjoon as he explained the process to her.

“So Hoseok here is going to ask the most important question first and then go on to specifics. Pleasantries aren’t too necessary until the end. He’ll close with a polite statement and leave.” The chief said as they watched the interaction. “In fact, here he comes now.”

Hoseok waved at the two and winked at Hae-won. “Didya learn anything?”

“Uh, yeah.” Hae-won smiled anxiously under his gaze and he laughed. Namjoon pulled at them to regroup with the others as night drew nearer.

The next day, they decided to have a formal meeting to discuss the situation.

“So, we have Mun-hee, killed and placed in the exact same way as Jane Doe.” Jin laid out the facts. “She even looked a bit like Jane Doe. Were they relatives?”

“No.” Hoseok shook his head.

“I found a tie at the scene.” Jimin held up the plastic bag. Hae-won looked on curiously. Now Jimin had their attention. “It looks familiar, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“That’s from Betty’s Diner.” Hae-won interrupted. “I recognize it and I think it’s Hak-kun’s.”

“Why?” Namjoon turned to look at the small girl. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Well, he didn’t show up for work so I’m guessing he quit. He called me before that to say he lost his tie and broke down because his boss scolded him for forgetting to wear it.” She mused to herself before straightening again. “Those are just speculations.”

The chief of Bangtan smiled at her with a nod of approval. Even Yoongi quirked an eyebrow, Taehyung mimicked his expression. She was wary of the two of them. It always felt like they could see right through her.

“Listen, it’s Friday. The killer strikes again tomorrow and if it’s Hak-kun, then we need to bring him into custody.” Yoongi said factually.

“Are you seriously going to gamble people’s lives? What if it’s not him? Then we have no one watching out for the killer because we’re all trying to watch him.” Hoseok looked appalled at the suggestion.

“Listen, I’m fine with that. We could see if there’s a pattern.” Yoongi shrugged.

“There are people’s lives at risk here!” Hoseok shouted, slamming a fist onto the table. The other members jumped, surprised to see Hoseok so worked up.

“Jeez, you cops always get so worked up about people’s lives.” Yoongi said with a groan.

“You’re technically a cop too, ya know?” The man sighed and slouched in his chair, defeated.

“He has a point.” Taehyung piped up, earning a glare from his mentor. Instead of cowering back, as per usual, he jutted out his chin and continued. “Besides, don’t you think these murders are just too...delicate? Too well thought out for someone who’s doing this simply out of a moment of anger.”

“We still can’t discount the fact that his tie was found at the crime scene. That’s damning evidence.” Jin jumped in.

There was a tense silence, Yoongi and Taehyung exchanging warring glares and Jin now staring intensely at Hoseok. A muscle in Taehyung’s jaw twitched uncontrollably. Namjoon’s gaze swept the room before he slowly stood, hands pressing to the table.

“I say we bring him in for questioning. We don’t have to guard him if we just put him in a cell overnight.” He said, trying to reach a conclusion both sides would agree with. Jimin, who hadn’t spoken his opinion, just watched as the team was already divided.

“Doesn’t it feel like the killer is toying with us?” He murmured, but with the silence in the room, everyone heard.

“What do you mean by that, Jiminie?” Hoseok turned his attention away from Jin. His movement stirred the other members to look at him, Hae-won remained silent.

“Mun-hee is found in the exact same situation as Jane Doe, as if the killer expected us and wanted to put on a show. A show of power. They’re saying ‘look, I did it once, I can do it again, and stump you every time.’ A subtle fuck you.” Jimin’s eyes darkened. The other men visibly stiffened, looking around nervously.

“But how would they know?” Namjoon asked.

“Small town, word spreads fast.” Taehyung said dryly.

“That doesn’t narrow anything down.” Jin sighed, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

“Well, actually,” Jungkook piped up. The attention turned to him and he swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Eye witness accounts say they saw a ‘strange man’ walking around.” He spoke, tapping his pen against the notepad in front of him. They pondered over this discovery.

“Hak-kun fits that.” Taehyung muttered, saying what was on the others’ minds.

“Just because he’s a man?” Hae-won scoffed, a sudden hard tone to her voice that had Jungkook turning to look at her, surprised. She quickly cleared her throat, returning to the quiet voice she usually had. “I mean, I just, I don’t know if that’s enough information, but with his tie, I think it’s a good idea to investigate him.”

“Right.” Namjoon nodded, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “Well, we’ll bring him in, get a warrant for his arrest, there’s substantial evidence, and interview him. Any objections?”

The six men’s eyes scanned the room before they all nodded. They waited, staring expectantly at Hae-won. She flushed a bright red from being thrusted into the spotlight.

“Y-yeah. That sounds great.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. They all smiled fondly at her.

“Saturday, the countdown begins.” Jin mused, picking up his watch from his bedside table.

“You’re setting a bad example, joking about these murders.” Namjoon sighed, rolling over, throwing an arm around the older man. The tips of Jin’s ears went red, goosebumps rolling up and down his body.

“Joonie, some people have a sense of humor.” He snorted, turning over to face the man next to him. He placed his hands on either side of Namjoon’s face and slowly leaned in. The chief met the distance, lips brushing Jin’s. Then the chief smiled, pulling away to look at his second in command. He loved this man.

“I have a great sense of humor, I fell in love with you after all.”

“I don’t know if I should be offended or touched by your proclamation of love.” Jin huffed, shifting to sit up, hotel blankets pooling around his waist.

“You’re unfair, Jin.” Namjoon murmured. “So handsome and, fuck.” He sighed, obviously conflicted.

“We already know I’m the handsomest, Joonie.”

“But how did you end up with a mess like me? Sometimes you handle the children better than me, and I’m supposed to be the police chief!”

“They just need a little mothering. And don’t underestimate yourself, I’m sure a person like Y/N would throw herself at you if she got the chance, if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Jin laughed, getting up and pulling on his suit.

It was sort of a uniform, black linen pants and a white button up. This was paired with a navy blue suit jacket that had his badge in the pocket. He went to the bathroom to comb his hair and brush his teeth, mumbling something about there being a lack of room service at this motel. Namjoon just chuckled at his grumbling and got dressed as well. He wore black pants, like Jin, and a white button up shirt, except his suit jacket was a faded brown.

“You always bring up Y/N, it’s almost like you like her too.” Namjoon pointed an accusing finger at his partner.

“And what if I did?”

“Well it would be unfair because I met her first.”

“You can’t just claim women, Joonie.” He rolled his eyes and opened the heavy hotel room door.

“I’ll do what I want.”

“You say that now, but we all know she has you whipped.”

“Who has who whipped?” Jungkook’s curious voice echoed through the hallway. Jin spun on his heel to face the maknae.

“Now look what you’ve done.” Jin glared at Namjoon who just shrugged innocently.

“I’m just kidding.” Jungkook sighed. “I’m not as innocent as you guys think I am.” He wandered down the stairs, finally getting tired of acting dumb, the Chief and Second in Command now following him.

“Elaborate.” Namjoon demanded.

“Oh please, you guys actually bought that I was that oblivious?” He sat down, ignoring the other men at the table whose conversation came to a halt at the sight of them.

“Well, I-” Jin’s face was red.

“Come on, I know Taehyung and Yoongi are practically eye fucking each other every minute and quite literally fucking each other every night. Please keep it down guys.” The youngest pointed a finger at the two men sitting next to each other. They looked away with a huff, but their faces were red.

“And You two.” He turned to Namjoon and Jin. “You make me sick, really. You’re so cute and reliable. Then you go and flaunt your cuteness to everyone. We all see it! Hoseok and Jimin-guys, just ask each other out already!”

There was a long silence. Jungkook shrunk back in his seat, bravado gone, now worried he took it a little too far.

“Kookie, you’re not aware of the full story here.” Namjoon chuckled after a tense moment, the noise echoed by the other men at the table.

“You really want to tell him?” Jin eyed Joon warily.

“It’s time he knows.” Taehyung sighed.

“What? Know what?” Jungkook felt the bubble of envy in his stomach. They kept so many things from him; little secret, jokes. One time they forgot to invite Jungkook to his own surprise party.

“Well,” Jimin reached out and grabbed Namjoon’s hand. “We’re actually...all together already.”

“Oh.” The younger’s voice was soft, trying not to betray the emotions flowing through him. They were all dating? And without him? Was he fucking seventh wheeling??? “Without me?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

Jin started laughing his windshield wiper laugh as Hoseok smiled. Taehyung and Yoongi exchanged glances.

“That was an unexpected answer.” Yoongi muttered under his breath.

“That’s what we wanted to talk about this morning.” Jimin said soothingly, touch relaxing Jungkook easily. “We want you to join us.”

“R-really?”

“Yes.” Taehyung nodded quickly.

“Is that a yes?” Hoseok asked, watching Jungkook’s mouth open and close. The sounds of the guests around him went underwater. He couldn’t hear anything, emotions spiraling out of control. All six of them? It was insane. But then he couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else.

“Yes.” He said quietly. “Yes!” He said again, louder. Namjoon smiled, cupping his chin with his slender fingers.

“Then, may I?” He asked for permission softly.

Jungkook simply nodded and Namjoon tentatively placed his lips against his. It was quick, brief, one might even think it was an accident if it hadn’t been for Namjoon’s hand on his chin.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby, it’s just that...this is a small town. That’s why we’re trying not to be very open.”

“Oh, I see.” Jungkook refused to pout. He wanted to have some big romantic story, but that would have to wait. They were trying to solve a series of murders, dammit.

“We should get going.” Yoongi glanced at his watch and the others agreed, standing and taking their suit jackets off the backs of their chairs.

The morning breakfast rush had dissipated, now only the metal containers of bacon and eggs left. The place was just as dusty as the police station and it made Jungkook’s nose twitch with the urge to sneeze.

“Why is everything so dusty here?” Jimin complained, rubbing his nose with his sleeve.

“Yeah, it’s making me-” Taehyung was interrupted by the loud sneeze that escaped his mouth.

“Bless you.” Yoongi responded immediately, rubbing Taehyung’s back caringly.

It was the first sign of affection Yoongi had openly given Taehyung. They were alone, for one, and for two, Taehyung seemed a little down today, just a little sad.

“Let’s get going, Hak-kun should be in his apartment still, according to the schedule Hae-won gave us.” Jin checked his phone to pull up the screenshot.

“Why does she have his schedule?” Jimin asked innocently.

“It’s a small town, who knows?” Yoongi pressed his lips into a thin line.

Knock knock knock. Namjoon waited patiently, his partners waiting near the car so as to not scare Hak-kun off. There was the sound of footsteps and a loud groan. The door opened a crack, stopped by the chain inside.

“Who are you?” The voice was gruff.

“I’m Kim Namjoon from the Bangtan Police Department. I’d like to ask you a few questions regarding the murders of Jane Doe, Mun-hee, and others.”

“Okay one second.” The voice was more awake this time as he shut the door. The chain rattled on the other side and then the door opened fully. A man stood in clothes that looked like he’d slept in them. Namjoon immediately recognized him as their rude waiter.

“Had a rough night?” He tried to be pleasant.

“Yeah, slept in the car again. The damn heater broke in my apartment.” The man grumbled, stepping aside to let him in. When Namjoon walked in, already tense, his eyes had to adjust to the darkness.

Despite the thin streams of light shining through the slats in his windows, the room was in utter darkness. As he adjusted, he could make out piles of clothing on the floor, dishes in the sink, unwashed, and cups littering the floor. There was also an odd assortment of broken items in the corner of the room, hidden in the darkness.

It looked like someone threw a rager in this house and then left. The brown haired police chief was surprised anyone could be this messy. Like, he was messy, yes, but he would never let himself degenerate to this state.

“What do you need to know?” Hak-kun somehow found a place to sit on the couch, but it had a dent carved in it and Namjoon was sure that was the only place you could sit on that couch.

“Actually, we have a warrant for your arrest due to substantial evidence implicating you in the murder of Mun-hee.” Namjoon dug around his pockets and took out the papers.

“Oh, I see.” Hak-kun’s eyes didn’t quite meet Namjoon’s. He looked around, jaw clenching in signs of annoyance.

“What’s that?” The chief asked, pointing to the broken objects in the corner of the room. The man’s nostrils flared in anger.

“I just get mad sometimes and things happen, okay?” He snapped. “I’ll go with you willingly, I have nothing to hide.” Hak-kun stood and dusted off his pants, though they were already dirty with food stains.

Namjoon grimaced and nodded, in a hurry to leave the dirty apartment.

Audio recording #1:

MYG: Is it alright if we record this?

HK: Yeah, it’s fine.

MYG: Great, okay, please tell us how you are connected to Mun-hee.

HK: Mun-hee...ah, Mun-hee. We went to school together. Wait, can I get a glass of water or something? I have a splitting headache.

MYG: Of course.

KTH: So you knew her?

HK: Hah, well, we grew up together. It was often just us, this stupid town, the old schools. A lot of kids come here because it’s the closest school around these parts, but only a couple actually live here.

MYG: Who else lives here?

HK: Hm, there was me, Mun-hee, Joo-Eun, and another girl, her name is slipping my mind.

KTH: You grew up with these people, though, how do you not know their names?

HK: She was always easily forgettable. She’s not much trouble though, I remember her being a nice girl...until, nevermind.

MYG: Until what?

HK: It’s not my place to say.

KTH: Well it would do you good to say it.

MYG (muffled): Taehyung get it together.

HK: I don’t want to talk about it.

MYG: That’s alright, Hak-kun, I can call you that, right?

HK: Yeah.

MYG: What do you remember about last saturday?

HK: Not much. I remember I drank some weird shit at the party-

MYG: The same one Mun-hee went to?

HK: Yes.

MYG: And why were you there, Hak-kun.

HK: Mun-hee is, was, my friend, sir. I would never do anything to hurt her, if that’s what you’re wondering. Listen, I know you guys are trying your best, but just drop it. I have nothing to do with it. That tie went missing long before Mun-hee’s body was found. I’ve obviously been framed and you stupid ass-

MYG: Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Thank you for coming, Sir. Please calm down or we’ll be forced to detain you.

HK: DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, ASSHO-

Beep.

“Well that was certainly insightful.” Yoongi mumbled, glancing over to where Hak-kun sat, dejected, in his cell. Taehyung sighed and played the tape again, taking more notes of the important information along with his personal thoughts.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this.” Namjoon eyed the two with a raised eyebrow.

“Joonie, he was a difficult person to interview. I could tell he was annoyed the entire time except when he spoke of Mun-hee.” Taehyung frowned, flipping through his notes. “Here, I wrote down ‘aggressively making eye contact and frowning.’”

“Are those seriously your notes?” Yoongi looked through his notes which were pages longer. “Do I need to train you in note taking as well?”

“No! I just, I don’t notice as much as you, oh wise Yoongles.” Taehyung crossed his arms, pouting. Yoongi just softened his expression.

“You can always tell me what’s wrong.” He placed a tentative hand on Taehyung’s arm.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.�� Hae-won’s soft voice hovered in the air. She was closing the door of the security room behind her.

Jin often handled the security room, but he trusted her to watch Hak-kun while he went to the bathroom. Jin slipped back in as she stepped into the room with the others.

Yoongi immediately dropped his hand, to the disappointment of Taehyung, and straightened. A cold look once again cast over his face. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to let you know that I have to head back early to finish up some school work.” She explained with a gentle smile.

“Okay, rest up and study well.” Namjoon nodded and she dipped her head, heading out the door. They all stared fondly at her retreating form. “The same goes for the rest of you.”

They had spent all day just interviewing and wrestling answers out of Hak-kun and yet they came up empty every time. Maybe he was truly innocent and they were trying to convict a good man. This was the kind of case where things could get really messy if they kept going on intuition instead of hard facts.

“Let’s wrap it up and head back to the hotel. Jin, are you coming?” Namjoon called as the others filed out of the station.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna check some things and then I’ll be back in no time.”

Trusting his second in command, Namjoon left.

The first sunlight was filtering through the windows of an empty cell. A glass of water was on the ground next to the cot, tipped over, the ground wet beneath it.

“How could he have escaped? Where did he go?”

Hands reached out to the unsuspecting man.

“Do you have a headache? You look in pain.” The voice said, hiding the glinting blade in the moonlight.

“Who are you?”

“Just a nice person. I have something that could really help.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, just some medication for headaches. It works wonders.”

“Pass it here.”

The man is passed out soon enough and the shadowy figure grabs the keys off one of the hooks in the back and unlocks his cell. Then the figure dragged him out, put him in his car, slit his throat, and placed his face down at the dashboard. They were back home in 10 minutes, bloodlust satisfied.

“The feed is just looping. How did I not notice this before?” Jin mumbled, head in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay, the killer was...tricky.” Namjoon comforted his lover.

“Boss.” Jungkook piped up, holding a phone in the air. “It’s for you.”

The chief of police stood and walked over with purposeful steps. It was easy to see why he was the chief. He was sure of himself, walked with purpose, passion, and he always looked like he had a mission.

“Mhm?” He murmured. “This is he. What? How did it get there? Okay, okay, I’ll send my best men out to investigate. Please hang in there and don’t touch anything.” He hung up, rushing to throw on his suit jacket. “Hak-kun’s body was just found.”

“Where?” Jimin stood as well and the others followed suit.

“In his car. No one disturbed him, claimed he slept in his car all the time and no one thought much of it. It’s just...so odd.” Namjoon sighed.

“Why?” Yoongi tilted his head. Their fearless leader wasn’t usually thrown by anything, always keeping a cool facade. But here he seemed to be cracking.

“His car was found across town.” He raced out the door, watching the others pile in and Jin took the driver’s seat. “I just feel like this case is getting away from us. We’re obviously missing something.” The chief stared out the window, thinking intensely. The other members knew not to make too much noise.

“Do you think...it’s time to bring someone else in?” Taehyung asked quietly.

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook said defensively.

“I mean,” Taehyung shot the younger boy a look that shut him up. “That we may need more of a specialist in here. There’s one thing we haven’t been able to look at.”

“And that is?” Yoongi closed his eyes lazily as he leaned back in his seat.

“Blood. We haven’t been able to test the blood.”

“Well, we only know one reliable person who can do that and she’s probably very busy.” Jin scolded the younger males. “But it’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Let’s just take a look and then we can decide.”

The street they pulled up to was quiet, not a person in sight. The leaves shifted in the breeze, skittering across the ground. It made for an uneasy sight. They stepped out and Jin locked the car.

Jimin handed out gloves and then he went around, feeling over the creases of the blue car, completely ignoring the dead body inside.

“Found anything interesting?” Jungkook called.

“Nope.” Jimin responded flatly, concentrated. He peered inside, seeing the blood pooling on the dashboard and dripping into Hak-kun’s lap.

“I think it’s definitely the same killer. He has the same neck slice.” He felt over the windows. Not a single scratch. “No signs of forced entry or struggle with the car.” He dictated as Hoseok took careful notes.

“I see no bruising visible on the victim, wait.” He crawled onto the back of the car, peering through the back window. “I see some purple markings on the back of the victim.”

The shadowy figure dragged Hak-kun, his back bumping over every curve, spine taking the brunt of the blows. He moaned in pain, starting to stir. The figure panicked. They need to get this over with quickly.

“Anything else?” Hoseok asked.

“No, I’d have to see the inside.” Jimin sighed, brushing some hair out of his face.

“We’ll see what we can do to get the keys.” Namjoon nodded at Hoseok to write that down.

“This case has me stumped, Namjoon. Obviously, the killer must be drugging them, how else can they get away with all this with no struggle?” Jimin stretched his arms.

“It’s confusing to me too, but I’m sure we’ll find out something soon enough.”

“Namjoon, I think we all know who we need to call.” Yoongi set a firm hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and the police chief’s shoulders drooped.

“But I don’t want to bother her, besides I think we can figure it out, right?”

“This is her job, It’s time to man up and call Y/N.”

A/N p.2: Hey guys! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! Any predictions yet? I’m sorry this took so long, I was in a creative block

Other:

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candied-peach · 4 years

Text

ao3: “tendrils of ivy” rating: T warnings: food, anxiety, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus, platonic DRLAMP genre: fluff description: Virgil has a hard time at a restaurant. (for anon prompt: "ummm may i have a lil drabble (if you want) where the gang is in a restaurant and when taking their order, virgil orders but the waiter misheard him, and try’s to confirm but virgil’s too shy to correct him? does that make sense? anyway i may be projecting lol")

"You gucci?"

Virgil looks up at his friend Roman's question, giving him a quick nod as they trail after the others into the restaurant. Inside, the restaurant is crowded and dim, illuminated only by soft amber globes. Remus, Roman's brother, places a comforting hand on his back, guiding him through the entryway.

They're seated by a bored-looking waiter in rumpled shirt and crooked name tag. There are potted plants everywhere, squatting on the wood partitions between booths, and curlicues of green trace complicated patterns across the wood.

"I'll come back in a few minutes to get your orders," the waiter tells them, distributing a handful of menus and promptly vanishing.

"Well then," Janus, seated to Virgil's right, murmurs dryly. He rests yellow gloved hands on the table, idly flipping through one of the menus. Virgil knows he wears gloves to hide patches of psoriasis from other people's judgmental views. When it's just Janus and the rest of his friends, the gloves come off, but on a foray to the outside world like today, Virgil knows he'd rather swim the Thames naked. It's bad enough that he's got a particularly painful patch on one side of his face.

"I know what I want!" Patton says eagerly, leaning against Roman and shoving black-framed glasses up his nose. "Pancakes!"

"Pattoncake, you always want pancakes," Roman points out, giving him a fond look.

"They're good," Patton defends himself.

"Please, not in front of my salad," Virgil chimes in, deadpan, making Remus and Janus laugh and Logan give him a confused look, murmuring something about how they haven't gotten their food yet, how could it possibly be-

"It's a meme," he whispers to Logan, who nods slowly, knowing that Virgil will show him later. Logan's not very up to date on memes, but Virgil loves to introduce him to them.

"I don't know what I want," he admits, paralyzed with indecision. He hates going out to restaurants for that very reason, he thinks sourly. It's so damned hard to pick something and half the time, when he's finally decided, his traitorous voice gives up on him and he can no longer speak. At least the others are slowly becoming proficient in ASL and he always carries around both his phone and a spare notepad, just in case.

"That's all right, Virgil," Janus quietly encourages him. "Take your time." Virgil nods, taking a shaky breath. The Philly cheesesteak sandwich on the next page of the brightly colored menu immediately captures his attention and he points at it in relief.

"What would y'all like?" The waiter asks, returning.

"Pancakes!" Patton chirps, and he's off around the table, until it's Virgil's turn.

"And you?" The waiter asks, pen poised over his pad. Virgil swallows.

"The Philly cheesesteak sandwich, please?" He ekes out the request, feeling his cheeks burn. Anxiety tightens his throat.

"The club sandwich, did you say?" The waiter asks, already starting to scribble it down.

"No, I-" Virgil stops, painful shyness squeezing all life out of his voice. Don't make a scene, it's not a big deal, you can just pick off the toppings you don't like, it's fine, shut up-

Janus and Logan exchange a decisive look over Virgil's bent head.

"Philly cheesesteak actually," Janus corrects politely. One gloved hand covers Virgil's hand, squeezing gently. Virgil lifts his flushed face, acutely aware of the frustrated tears glittering in his eyes.

"Sure, no problem," the waiter easily says, moving on to Remus, who wants some unholy concoction of breakfast foods that has the others wrinkling their noses.

"You want how many syrups, Remus?" Logan asks, once the waiter has departed again. Remus grins.

"All of them," he says, settling back against the booth and briefly drumming his fingers against the edge of the table until Logan passes him a fidget cube.

"Okay, but you have to eat it all," Roman warns. Remus scoffs.

"You say that like I wouldn't," he says. While he banters with his brother, Virgil turns to Janus.

"Thanks," he says softly. "I- I don't know why I couldn't just correct him-"

"Probably the anxiety," Janus says, making a wry face. "It's okay, Virge. Don't worry about it." Virgil rests his head on Janus's shoulder, lazy contentment spreading through him when Janus throws a casual arm around his shoulders and tugs him closer.

"And you better not put any syrup on my sandwich," Virgil adds, directing his warning to Remus. Remus scrunches up his nose.

"Don't give me any ideas," he says, waggling his eyebrows. Virgil groans.

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @littlestliu @matthindavick @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @bexxbeauty @killjoy-3000 @the-sunshine-dims @sneaky-slytherin @reesiereads @rabbitsartcorner @quackerz-creations @psodtqueer @awkward-child-of-satan @snek-boii @im-fine-24

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queerbutstillhere-writes · 4 years

Text

Day 1 - Tim’s Birthday

“Tim, can you go grab me the bandages?”

“Yeah, sure B.”

Listen, Tim was glad that Damian was back safe. He was glad they had found the boy before he had gotten any worse injuries(though how he could be in worse shape then he’s in right now, Tim wasn’t sure). He may not get along with Damian the best, but he was still the kids brother, in their own fucked up way.

So he was trying to not feel too upset about it.

It’s not like his birthday was an important thing that he waited for every year. It’s fine.

Besides, birthdays hadn’t even been that big of a thing until he came to Bruce’s. Maybe he had cake or something on his birthday, or if his parents were home they might go out to dinner. But it’s not like he had huge birthday parties or anything. So why was this such a big deal? It was fine. It was more important that Damian was home safe. Right?

It’s not like this was his 17th birthday, and he had been hoping it would be a little more special. It wasn’t like this was his 17th birthday, and he had been planning to tell Bruce about his boyfriends.

He’d survive.

He helped Bruce rebandage Damian’s chest, the kid still mostly in a coma, he woke up occasionally, but was never fully lucid, just mumbled different things and was able to relay where he was in the most pain.

He didn’t know why he was hoping that Bruce would bring it up, but it became clear he had forgotten when after, he just thanked Tim, kissed him on the forehead and then sat down beside Damian with a laptop.

Tim sighed softly and called a soft goodnight, turning to walk back upstairs, ready to crash after a long night of patrols and a disappointing evening.

So that’s just what he did. He took a shower and then collapsed into bed in a t-shirt that was more than likely Kon’s. It still smelled like him too, so who was Tim to complain. He just curled sprawled out under the bright yellow poofy duvet Bart had dumped into his room one day and refused to take home, one of the only splashes of color in the fairly dull, impersonal room.

He tossed and turned for a while before fully passing out, letting himself slip into dark night terrors with no plot or escape.

Just another night sleeping for Tim Drake.

He was in for quite a surprise when he woke up.

Well, not quite as much of a surprise as the person he ended up flipping off the side of his bed, but honestly what did they expect from him? He was highly sensitive, even in his sleep.

The squeal and solid thump got him to wake the rest of the way up, and he sat up, looking down at the floor beside his bed to find a figure sprawled on the floor, looking up at the ceiling.

“Ow!” they complained.

“Bart?!”

The teen grinned at him, sitting up.

“Hi babe.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Bart just hopped up and immediately launched himself on top of Tim, knocking him back down to the bed with a grunt.

“What are you doing here?” Tim groaned as Bart shifted to get comfortable, lying on top of him.

“Well, we wanted to surprise you, but Kon had to stop and help some people along the way so I was supposed to come ahead and make sure you stayed in bed,” they responded, chin on Tim’s chest.

“Surprise me?”

Tim easily rolled Bart under him, ruining the other’s work to getting comfortable on top of him.

“Yeah!” Bart just grinned at him, reaching up to put their arms around Tim’s neck.

“Why?”

Another grin was his answer, as well as a soft kiss. Tim just rolled his eyes and accepted this, giving Bart a few soft kisses before falling sideways and reaching for his phone. Bart immediately cuddled up to his back, forehead against his spine. Tim didn’t fight it, just opened his phone and suddenly realized why Bart wanted to surprise him, when he found texts from some of his friends, wishing him a Happy Birthday. He smiled softly, quickly texting them back and setting his phone down, just as the window popped open on its own. Both sat up to look at it, and watched as one Superboy tumbled through the window, or well, former Superboy. He looked up and found them watching, and gave a sheepish grin, quickly latching the window behind him before kicking off his boots. Tim watched as he walked over, dumping off unnecessary parts of his uniform as he walked, then slipping into the bed next to them, hovering over Tim slightly.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful,” he murmured softly before kissing him.

Tim just relaxed into it, grinning slightly. Then he pushed Kon away, wrinkling his nose.

“You smell like soot.”

“Yeah, sorry. There was this really big fire and I stopped to help.”

“I told you,” Bart murmured sleepily.

They both chuckled at them, and then Kon looked back at Tim.

“Got any birthday wishes, birthday boy?”

Tim frowned, glancing away as the memory of what was happening with his family came back to the front of his mind.

“Eh, not really?”

“He’s lying,” Bart inputted, rolling so they were pushed up on one elbow, looking over at Tim with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course he’s lying, but if he really ain’t gonna tell us, we’ll just have to take matters into our own hands.”

Tim rolled his eyes at Kon, pushing at him.

“Get up, ya big oaf. I know it’s noon, but some of us have to eat breakfast yet.”

“Can we get second breakfast, then?”

Tim laughed, looking over at the speedster.

“Yes, you can get second breakfast.”

Bart cheered for joy, jumping up and zipping to Tim’s closet. They returned within seconds with a pair of black shorts and a short sleeve black striped button up.

“Come on, get dressed,” Bart urged, holding the clothes out. “Or I’ll do it for you. . . Actually maybe I should do it anyway, that’d be a lot faster-”

“Bart, calm down and come here,” Kon said with a laugh, grabbing Bart with his TTK and pulling them over to sit in his lap.

The two patiently waited - as patient as those two get, anyway - while Tim changed, a little stiff from sleep still. Once he was dressed and had fussed with his hair a bit to soothe down the tangles and cowlicks, he turned to them. Kon gave a little wolf whistle, grinning from where he had his chin on Bart’s shoulder.

“Hmm, handsome as ever.”

“Thanks. Now let’s go get food before Bart withers away and dies.”

Bart cheered and jumped up, scooping Tim up easily and rushing out his bedroom door. But instead of taking him to the kitchen like usual, he went straight to the dining room and plopped Tim down in his usual seat.

Except the dining room was completely black, only the slight spark shower lighting it up.

“Bart?” Tim asked, glancing behind him to where the speedster had already disappeared through the kitchen room. “You could’ve at least turned on the lights beforehand.”

Tim had no sooner started to stand then the door flew open and the lights flicked on. Tim flinched away from the brightness, then focused on the door, finding a couple people trailing through it in a procession, carrying trays and things. Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Bart and Kon, hell even Steph was there.

“Happy birthday, my dear boy,” Alfred announced, setting down a cup of coffee in front of Tim.

“Oh,” Tim said softly, glancing down at the cup then up at Alfred.

Trays of breakfast foods were set down on the table, each person coming by to wish Tim a happy birthday, ruffling his hair or hugging him or something. Bart and Kon sat on either side of him, Dick and Steph on the other side of the table, Bruce at the end, and Alfred right next to him.

Tim wasn’t tearing up. No. Not at all. It was fine. He was fine .

Kon leaned over, nudging him slightly.

“I may have lied about the fire,” Kon said with a small grin. “Well, no, there was a fire, it was just like, an hour previously, and I was just helping Alfred cook.”

“He actually got here before me,” Bart confirmed, tapping Tim’s leg with their foot.

“Guys,” he breathed out, reaching up and rubbing his eyes.

“Tim,” Bruce said softly, pulling his attention. “I’m sorry if we made you think we’d forgotten about your birthday.”

“Issokay,” Tim mumbled. “Dami was hurt.”

“It’s not okay, and I promise you we didn’t forget,” Bruce told him, offering a smile.

“Thanks, Bruce.”

They started eating together, and Tim allowed himself to smile freely as he listened to his boyfriends and family chatting together.

Oh yeah. Bruce didn’t know.

“Hey, Bruce?” Tim called slightly, feeling his heart leap into his throat the moment he had spoken.

“Yeah, Tim?”

“I- I have something I wanted to tell you.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m . . . I’m dating Kon and Bart.”

Bruce glanced up from his pancakes, then looked between the three of them. He smiled.

“Congratulations.”

“I knew it!” Dick exclaimed from the other side of the table, looking absolutely joyful with this news.

Tim just groaned and realized his mistake of telling Bruce in front of everyone. Or well. . . just Dick. Steph already knew.

After their brunch - for that’s what it was - Tim found himself being dragged out of the house by his boyfriends.

“Guys, where are we going?”

“Birthday shopping! Come on!”

“Why do we need to go birthday shopping?”

“Because it’s your birthday and we want to spoil you!”

“Did you two forget that I’m the billionaire here, or?”

Kon just scoffed and shook his head. “I get money from Lex, and you know that.”

“Come on, Tim,” Bart said, with one of their powerful Puppy Dog Pouts. “Just let us take care of you today.”

Tim chuckled and shook his head and let them through the garage to his car.

“Fine, come on you dorks. But I’m driving.”

They both cheered and ran to the car.

After an afternoon of shopping and hanging out and eating sweets, and a nice dinner with the family again, Tim found himself at the front door, saying goodbye to his boyfriends before he had to go off to patrol.

“Thank you guys, so much, for coming,” Tim said with a smile, stepping forwards and kissing Kon, then Bart.

“Yeah! We just wanted to make your birthday just a lil bit better.”

Tim chuckled and shook his head, giving Bart another kiss.

“I love you, Bart Allen.”

“I love you too, Tim Drake-Wayne,” they responded happily, stealing one last kiss before stepping back and letting Tim turn to Kon.

“And I love you, Conner Kent.”

Conner just chuckled, pulling Tim in close, kissing him for a little longer then he had been allowed previously.

“I love you, Tim,” he practically whispered.

Then he stepped back, gave Tim a wink and started hovering.

“See ya around, birdie.” He saluted and shot off.

“Bye, Tim!” Bart called and also disappeared into the night.

Tim just smiled to himself and turned, walking inside again.

Yeah, that had been a good birthday.

@core-disaster-week-2020

#timkonbart week #core disaster week #timkonbart #core disaster #tim's birthday #tims birthday #tim drake #tim drake birthday #Bart Allen #conner kent #kon el kent #superboy #Robin #red robin #impulse #queerbutstillhere writes #queerbutstillhere

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maatryoshkaa · 5 years

Text

young god | chapter 8

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue |

word count: 7.3k

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of mental disorders, foul language

description: jisung visits you as soon as the lockdown is over, but the sweetness of the morning quickly turns sour when your last therapy session takes your relationship in a turn for the worse. from bloodstained clothing to yang jeongin’s tapes, the digger you deep, the uglier the truth becomes...and you find your entire world unravelling piece by piece.

watch the trailer here!

08| out of time

“Move, move! Initiate hold and secure procedures, Miroh Heights Campus is entering lockdown!”

District 9 Police Precinct had been thrown into utter chaos -- Chief Kim Woojin yelling commands into his police radio, darting around the station and dispatching teams left and right. They could hear the sirens blaring outside, darkened windows of houses and dorms alike flickering alight one by one as the citizens of Miroh Heights were awoken.

Chan was right by his friend’s side, and for once the sleep-deprived detective seemed even more frantic than the police captain. They had burst into the security office to look through the security cameras themselves; Chan had both hands on the desk, eyes glued to the monitor as the security guard flipped through the footage.

“Nothing here...or there...not here, either,” Chan mumbled, brow furrowed. “How big are these blind spots?”

“The security system at Miroh Heights is outdated,” Woojin replied, voice strained. “There are cameras on the main roads and buildings, but the alleyways…”

Chan cursed. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off of the monitor, then -- we’re going to catch this bastard if it’s the last thing I--”

A slew of drunken yelling cut Chan off, and they turned to see a huddle of officers with a stout, older man draped over their shoulders. The man’s hair and clothing were bloody and disheveled, and when he tilted his face into the light Chan saw that it had been badly beaten. All the curses the man was shouting were slurred from the hot blood pooling in his mouth.

"Whu’ th’ devil -- le’ me -- le’ me go, fuggin’ demons -- son of a fuggin’ --”

Chan rushed to the officers, Woojin right behind him. “Who is this?”

“The victim they found,” one of the officers replied, slightly out of breath from holding the man back. “Paramedics gave him first aid and were going to let him go, but he took a swing at a couple of officers on scene. We were forced to detain him--”

Dark blood had already soaked through the man’s freshly bandaged nose -- in fact, the man’s face was covered in so much blood, both fresh and congealed, that Chan couldn’t even tell where he was bleeding from. Only a moment later did the officer’s words sink in.

A witness? No, even better -- the victim, alive and in their hands. “He -- he saw the killer, then? This man?” Chan asked the officer, a flutter of hope in his chest.

“Chan--” Woojin began, but Chan barely heard him.

“We need to take him to questioning, right now --”

“Chan,” Woojin interjected again, placing a hand on the agitated detective’s shoulder.

“Woojin, we have a lead,” Chan exclaimed breathlessly, pulling his notebook from his pocket. “He’s seen the--”

“Chan!” Woojin’s raised voice finally made the younger detective stop and look up. Woojin sighed, jutting his chin out towards the man. “Look.”

Confused, Chan followed Woojin’s gaze -- and with a sinking feeling, he saw what his friend had been pointing out. The man’s eyes were unfocused, a milky white film glazed over his pupils as they darted frantically at their surroundings.

Their one surviving victim was blind.

The man was still rambling feverishly, foaming slightly at the mouth. “Lil’ punk...couldn’t even see his face -- fuggin’ -- fuggin’ right hook outta nowhere--”

Just his luck. Chan exhaled slowly, shoving his notebook back into his pocket as the officers hauled the man into the precinct. He turned to Woojin, whose tense, wary expression mirrored his own. “Don’t lift the hold and secure until dawn. If we can’t flush the killer out of the streets, then the sun will.”

────────

The bright chime of the doorbell woke you out of dreamless sleep, a beam of sunshine kissing your eyelids as you stretched and buried your face back into your pillows. It was probably around 10 A.M. -- you had no classes scheduled for today, so you’d allowed yourself to sleep in. Last night seemed so far away -- the thunderstorm, the lockdown, everything had seemed like a nightmare you’d suddenly gotten sucked into. The warm memory of Jisung’s soft voice through the phone, though, still made your cheeks heat up, remembering how his words had ended up lulling you to a peaceful sleep.

The doorbell rang again, and with a disgruntled groan you pushed yourself out of bed, stumbling through the hallways with your eyes shut stubbornly. Who could it be? The neighbours? Your landlord? A delivery boy with the wrong address? Despite your morning grogginess, you felt a sad pang as you thought of Jeongin. At this point, you weren’t sure who it could be, but that hardly mattered -- at the moment, you were only growing more and more royally pissed off that somebody had messed with your sleep.

Maybe that was why you didn’t give a second thought to your bedhead -- cowlicks and flyaways sticking straight up like your own hair was scared of your scalp -- and barely bothered to pry open your eyes as you yanked open the door, another yawn stretching your lips in the process.

When your squinted eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight streaming in, you found a very startled Han Jisung staring back at you.

He blinked.

You blinked.

And now, you were very much awake -- and very much aware of the half-dried drool on your chin, the sleep circles around your eyes that could put pandas to shame, and the thin, wrinkled, oversized t shirt draping your frame. As if electrocuted, your hands instantly shot to your hair, combing at it furiously and smoothing out your shirt the best you could.

You didn’t miss the growing smile on Jisung’s face as he watched you fumbling, hazel eyes glinting with amusement.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he chuckled, and you tried to shoot him the deadliest glare you could muster within minutes of waking up.

“Sh-shut up--what are--why--”

“They just called off the lockdown, so…” Now it was Jisung’s turn to look flustered, ears a telltale shade of red despite his nonchalant tone. “Maybe I wanted to come check on you.” His gaze finally landed on yours, vulnerable and serious, and you felt your heart stop. “I was worried about you, last night.”

Flashbacks to the night before made your stomach flip with embarrassment -- how shameless had you been? Calling him when he could have been sleeping, just because you were scared? Cursing at yourself and cringing inwardly, your gaze flickered to Jisung -- and you were suddenly caught off guard at how genuinely concerned he looked. He was chewing at his lip, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. A faint echo of how caring and patient he had sounded over the phone, reassuring you until you fell asleep, sent an immense feeling of warmth unfurling inside your chest. It felt...different from the racing heartbeats, the giddy, jittery feeling you’d always gotten after talking to him, the sweaty palms every time you managed to lock eye contact. No, this felt steadier, calmer. It felt...right.

Oh, hell. Were you in love with Han Jisung?

“Come in, then,” you replied breathlessly, and Jisung’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he stepped into your apartment. “Just--wait here,” you told him, cheeks aflame as you sat him down at the kitchen table. His eyes followed you curiously as you darted from your bathroom to your bedroom, you throwing on a clean hoodie and longer pants before washing up in record time. The boy sat as obedient as a puppy, watching you like you were the most fascinating thing in the entire world.

When you deemed yourself somewhat presentable, you stepped back into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves and clearing your throat awkwardly. “So...have you had breakfast?”

Jisung flashed a shameless smile up at you, golden hair falling into his eyes. “If I say no, do I get to eat your cooking?”

You scoffed, fighting the smile threatening the spill all over your face. With a sudden surge of confidence, you tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie and yanked him to his feet. “We pull equal weights in this relationship, Han Jisung,” you told him, grabbing a bag of all-purpose flour. “Let’s make some blueberry pancakes.”

Sure enough, a half hour later, there was a thin layer of sugar and flour all over the kitchen counter, the occasional squashed blueberry staining the floor purple. Jisung was surprisingly inept at cooking: you didn’t know what you had expected, but him spilling the batter countless times while whisking shakily -- coupled with his intensely focused expression -- made your stomach hurt from laughing.

“Jisung, you’re studying to be a surgeon. Shouldn’t your hands be a little steadier than that?”

“Shut up, oh my g--hnghhh.” Jisung’s voice was slightly high-pitched, unintelligible sounds of frustration coming from his lips and making you laugh even harder. He was laughing, too, shaking his head and yelping as more batter coated his fingers.

You’d finally ended up confiscating the bowl and whisk from him in order to salvage what was left of your breakfast. Jisung stood leaning on the counter and wiping up the mess you -- or, he -- had made as best he could, popping blueberries into his mouth when he thought you weren’t looking. He fed you blueberries, too, enjoying how flustered you got from the small gesture. The sweet aroma of pancakes cooking slowly but surely filled the kitchen, and with a triumphant scrape of the pan -- Jisung tilting it carefully -- you let the golden brown cakes flop onto two plates.

You giggled at the way Jisung’s entire face seemed to light up upon the first bite, just like it had on your first date. In some ways, he really was like a young child -- drowning his pancakes in maple syrup and eyes practically filling with stars as he exclaimed enthusiastically about how good they tasted.

There was something about the smell of fresh, hot pancakes and the serene morning that made Jisung remember a time, thirteen years ago, when things had always been this simple.

He watched you purse your lips and furrow your brow in concentration as you flipped the pancakes, the delighted smile on your face when they turned out just right. The way the sun hit the side of your face like liquid gold, the feeling of its warmth on his skin, everything made his chest ache with yearning -- a want to slip back into those memories, to rewind time, for another chance.

In some ways, he realised, you were just as far away, as unattainable as those memories. You were too good, too beautiful, too...precious. And him -- he was stained, tainted, flawed...he could never go back to those times, so how could he ever be good enough for you?

“Since you’re here…” you stabbed at a blueberry, absently swirling it in maple syrup. “Do you want to have another session? We’ve nearly covered everything, so it’ll be our last one.”

Last one. Jisung nodded absently, cheeks still stuffed with syrup and pancakes. With a smile, you ran to your room and fetched your laptop, the two of you gravitating to the living room sofa. The bouquet of peach roses Jisung had given you sat in a glass vase on the coffee table -- you had placed them there right after your first date -- and Jisung couldn’t help smiling to himself when he saw them.

Glancing back at you, he saw your face contort with worry as you read over your notes. “Is something wrong?”

You scanned over what you had written a couple nights ago, nibbling nervously at your lip. Abusive childhood. Screening for PTSD. Ask about family again. They had seemed overly intense back then, but actually sitting in front of Jisung and preparing to ask such...sensitive questions only increased your feeling of dread by tenfold. You took a deep breath to calm yourself. After all, this was Jisung. He would understand, right?

“Before we start, I need you to promise something,” you began, and Jisung raised an eyebrow. “Promise that you’ll be honest with me.”

His expression was unfathomable, still as a mask, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. This was the side of Jisung that you’d always tried to forget, the one that made all your fears, your suspicions, seem a little more real.

After what felt like an eternity, he gave a small nod, and you looked down at your first point.

“Last time, we talked a lot about your family,” you said carefully. “I was just -- is there a reason why you spoke of them in...the past tense? I might just be imagining things,” you added hurriedly, “but I was just-- I was wondering--”

“You were wondering what happened to my family,” Jisung finished for you, and you nodded. A long, heavy pause followed before Jisung finally spoke again. “They passed away.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt your heart drop. Of course they did. Good job, y/n, you managed to find the most sensitive topic to start with. “I--I’m so sorry,” you stammered, wanting nothing more than for a hole to open up the ground and swallow you up. You quickly scrolled to your next question, grateful to change the subject. “Do you--generally speaking--do you have any regrets in your life?”

The word regrets sent scenes and voices flashing before Jisung’s eyes, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from slipping away entirely. “Of course,” he managed to reply, voice coming out softer than he would’ve liked.

“Like...what?” You pressed, despite every fibre of your being wanting to throw down your notebook, pull him in for a hug, and end the session. You’re training as a therapist, y/n, your professor would have scolded you, Focus on your patient’s responses, not yours.

“Mistakes,” Jisung breathed, voice barely above a whisper. It was as if his tongue had shrivelled up, the right words struggling to escape from his lips. “Mistakes I’ve made that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. Letting...everything spiral out of control.”

Out of control? “All those things you’ve mentioned before...your nightmares. The colour red, your parents...do they, by any chance, remind you of those mistakes?”

Your voice was so gentle. Jisung knew it should have been easy to answer these questions, any normal person would have been able to answer your questions. You were always so kind, so sweet, so willing to listen -- so why did it suddenly feel like his throat had closed up?

When he didn’t answer, you asked tentatively, “Do you still have those nightmares?”

A nod.

“What do you have nightmares about?” You looked down at the notes you had written: Patients suffering from PTSD are likely to experience nightmares about past traumatic events.

“The--the past.”

You felt your heart drop straight into your gut as you asked the follow-up question. “Do you get them often?”

“Yes.” The memories, the long-buried pain, they thrashed at his chest as if demanding to be let out; the words were already beginning to roll off his tongue. Jisung knew with a horrible, sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be long until he cracked completely. Whenever he looked into your eyes, he felt the lump in his throat wanting to give way, he felt all the walls he had ever built up threatening to crumble to dust. What were you doing to him?

“How do you...cope with them?”

“I don’t,” he answered, and laughed weakly. “That--that sounds bad. I just--I don’t like thinking about them. I’ve always just let them happen until they’re...over.”

You read over your notes and swallowed hard, suddenly at a loss for words. It couldn’t be.

Jisung’s eyes were watching you, darkened and unreadable. “What’s wrong?”

“It--it’s just…” you shook your head vigorously, looking from your boyfriend to the notes you had written -- the case studies, the theories, all the evidence was pointing in the same, horrible direction. “If everything you’ve said is...is true -- I mean, if you’ve ignored these symptoms for so long -- you would also be suffering from multiple other side effects. In other words, you’d come across as much more...unstable, but--” you looked at Jisung’s face, his expression smooth and unfathomable as ever. “You don’t seem...unstable at all.”

A small smile played on Jisung’s lips, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Things are never quite as they seem, y/n.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion, mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. As if sensing the sudden uneasiness in the room, Jisung broke the tension with a laugh, his tone light as ever. “I’m joking! Hey, you’re so serious when you’re working.” He shot you a reassuring smile, hand reaching to lightly pinch your cheek. “So, what have you concluded, then, Doctor l/n?”

“You...you might have trouble sleeping,” you began tentatively, not taking your eyes off your notes, “and missing ‘blank’ spots in your memories--”

Jisung’s smile froze on his face as you continued, “You might be a person who doesn’t let a lot of people get close to you.”

“Well, that’s not true,” he replied, voice coming out shaky. “You’re wrong.”

“You might even have these...these bursts of anger, or even violence--”

“What are you diagnosing me with?” Jisung cut you off, voice stiff.

Both your expression and words echoed those another therapist had told him thirteen years ago.

“Post-traumatic stress disorder,” you replied quietly, and a heavy silence fell over the room like a curtain, the weight of your words slowly sinking in. Before you could say anything, before you could take back what you’d said, before you could tell Jisung that it meant nothing, that you had probably misread something, he had already gotten to his feet.

“I have -- class in ten minutes -- I completely forgot.” Jisung grabbed his bag and strode out into the hallway, not looking you in the eye when he glanced back. “I’m sorry, I have to--I have to go.”

You opened your mouth to stop him, to apologise, to do anything, but nothing came out -- and all you could do was watch as Jisung disappeared, the door swinging shut with a decisive, hollow bang.

A couple of peach-coloured petals fell from the bouquet of roses, the flowers hanging their heads sadly.

────────

You spent the better half of the morning moping and muttering furiously at yourself -- Stellar job, y/n! You’ve finally fucked it up for good. The best damn guy who’s ever come along, and you’ve finally managed to drive him away.

It was only when you trudged into the living room again in the afternoon that your eyes fell on a black object wedged in between the sofa cushions. When you fished it out, you realized it was a phone -- Jisung’s phone. He must have forgotten it when he’d stood up and left so suddenly.

You paced around the living room, chewing your bottom lip anxiously. You should return it to him as soon as possible, but -- how? He’d claimed he had classes today, but you had no idea where they were.

I live in the dorms on the other side of the Yellow Wood, you remembered Jisung telling you at the park, and you snapped your fingers. That’s it. As far as you knew, there was only one residence hall near the Yellow Wood -- that had to be where Jisung’s place was. Slipping his phone into your pocket, you hurriedly pulled on your shoes and headed out the door.

Sure enough, after reaching the clearing of the forest and carefully navigating through a couple of damp, winding alleyways, you found yourself facing a set of tall, rusted gates. The student dorms loomed above you, making a semi-circle around a small garden. You pushed through the gates and made a beeline for the front desk, where a female student was sitting.

“Um, hi,” you stammered, “I’m looking for a Han Jisung? I have something of his I need to return.”

The girl barely looked at you, flipping through the pages of a plastic binder before scrawling something onto a slip of paper and sliding it over the counter. You quickly thanked her and headed towards the elevator, scanning the slip.

Floor #9, Room #0325

You found yourself standing in front of a plain, off-white door, the old paint peeling from wear and age. There was no mailbox, no slot in the door -- and no place for you to safely leave his phone. You bent down -- maybe you could slip it under the door? -- and felt the door give way entirely, swinging open to reveal Jisung’s apartment.

Stunned, you swung around and stood up, eyes landing on the lock -- or where the lock should have been. The metal had been dented so badly it looked as if it were about to snap clean off. As if someone had been blindly, repeatedly slamming against the door. Heartbeat quickening, you stepped inside and tried pushing the door shut again. It creaked open stubbornly, a crack of light spilling into the room.

Deciding that whether or not Jisung’s lock worked was the least of your problems, you proceeded into his apartment, heartbeat thudding louder and louder with each step. Why are you nervous? You asked yourself, trying to wipe away the cold sweat that had formed on your palms. You’re not doing anything wrong.

Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were trespassing on something...private. The moment you’d stepped in, you’d been hit with the strong smell of bleach and soap, the strange scent pricking at your nose and making your eyes sting. Was Jisung a cleaning freak? Small details jumped out at you: the walls were cracked and barren, devoid of any family photos, posters, or maps. You passed the small, cluttered kitchen, where a half-eaten bowl of cereal sat glumly on the table.

So Jisung had had breakfast already.

You should have left his phone on the kitchen table and bolted out the door; you should have been minding your own business -- but the further you trudged into Jisung’s apartment, the deeper you felt yourself getting pulled in. Tentatively, you tip-toed your way towards the only other shut door in the small dorm room, pushing it open. It revealed another plain room with a small window, weak streams of sunlight grazing the dusty floorboards. His bedroom, you supposed, and turned to leave -- when something caught your eye.

An air mattress stood in the corner of the room, pressed up to the window. Besides a small reading lamp, there was no furniture -- a row of textbooks were pushed against a wall, and his clothes hung from a makeshift rack behind the door. That wasn’t the weird part -- plenty of students lived like this, especially if they needed to save up money to pay for student loans. But…

“Are you okay? You’re limping.”

“I...may have banged my foot on the corner of my bed last night.”

Your eyes skirted around the room -- the mattress, the empty walls. How could he have hurt his foot that badly in a room with no furniture?

You shook your head and smacked your face lightly. Stop it. Stop overthinking. “There are plenty of places for him to hit his foot,” you told yourself aloud, turning to leave. “The walls. Maybe it was the kitchen table. There’s nothing to be paranoid about, nothing to--”

You trailed off, voice dying in your throat.

In the clothes hamper, right at the top of the pile, was a wrinkled white shirt.

It was the shirt Jisung had been wearing yesterday.

And it was covered in dried red blood.

You felt your legs give way and you stumbled towards it, rummaging through the hamper and pulling it out. A pair of jeans fell out with it, and you caught them, turning the denim over.

Blood. There was so much blood.

Spots of crimson dappled the shirt, and when you held up the jeans you saw that there were two dark stains in the shape of hands seeped through the pockets.

Were they his handprints? You felt your stomach twist unpleasantly, a cold sweat sticking your palms to the fabric and staining your own skin with red. It wasn’t that much blood, right? Just the front of his shirt, and two handprints on his jeans. It looked more like a nosebleed, if anything -- you nodded shakily, not able to tear your eyes from the soiled clothing. Yes. That was it. He must have had a bad nosebleed yesterday night, and--

Your phone rang, and you nearly screamed.

Throwing the clothing back into the hamper and slamming the bedroom door shut, you fumbled with your phone. It took you several tries to hit the ANSWER button, your fingers were shaking so badly.

“H-h-hello?” You fished Jisung’s phone from your pocket and set it on his kitchen table before making a beeline out of his apartment. You pulled the front door as tightly shut as you could and pressed your back against the wall of the stairwell, breathing erratic.

“Y/N?” Hyunjin. Hearing his voice was like a lifeline to reality, and you let out an enormous sigh of relief. “Hey, you alright?”

“Y-yeah. I’m just--I--what’s up?”

“It’s Jeongin. They--they finished his surgery and moved him to the ICU this morning. I went as soon as I heard -- he’s not awake, they say he might not be for a while, but--”

“I’ll be right there,” you interrupted, and began bolting down the stairs.

────────

The stark white lights of the ICU stung your eyes as you darted past stretchers and grim-looking doctors in long white coats, spotting a bed in the corner where a tall figure sat hunched over an unconscious younger boy.

He’s at high risk for prolonged unconsciousness, Hyunjin had informed you over the phone. They say they don’t know when he might wake up from the coma.

You reached Jeongin, and a sad ache pulled at your heartstrings when your eyes landed on his face. The delivery boy looked peaceful, so peaceful it was almost as if nothing was wrong at all. The already-faint worry lines of his face were smoothed out, mouth parted slightly. If it weren’t for the cap of gauze wrapped around his head and the mass of wires connecting him to machines, you would have thought Jeongin was sleeping.

Hyunjin had his cheek bit in worry, and you carefully rubbed soothing circles on his back. The barista looked terrible -- bags under his eyes so dark they looked like bruises, the faint stench of alcohol wafting from his clothes. You bit your lip, trying to find the right words to say, when a nurse pulled aside the privacy curtain and you looked up.

“What’s his condition?” You asked her. Hyunjin’s eyes looked up curiously, although he must have already asked the same question a thousand times.

“The CT scan detected no major structural damage to his skull, which is the good news. Most of the bleeding came from the physical force of the traumatic injury. The surgery was mostly for the hematoma and clotting from excessive internal bleeding, but the operation was successful.” She hesitated, then continued gravely, “However, the doctor isn’t sure when your friend may regain consciousness.”

You nodded slowly, her words echoing in your mind as she walked away. Massaging his temples as if he had a migraine, Hyunjin gave you a weak smile and stood up. “I’m going to the washroom, be right back.”

As Hyunjin slipped into the hallway, you turned back towards Jeongin. The heart monitor beeping was a constant reassurance that he was alive, that the surgery had been a success -- but the boy was so pale his veins were visible on his paper-thin eyelids. His rumpled blond hair was matted with blood, and he was still wearing the oversized hoodie and baggy jeans he had been attacked in. They must not have had time to change him into hospital scrubs, you thought -- that, or they didn’t want to risk disconnecting all the tubes and wires while he was in critical condition. Either way, seeing Jeongin almost exactly the way Hyunjin must have found him made your heart ache even more.

Tugging on the hospital’s blankets, you yanked it over the young boy to tuck it up to his chest. Your hand hit something hard and you yelped in surprise, looking down and rubbing your skin. Nothing -- then you saw it. Jutting ever so slightly out of Jeongin’s hoodie pocket, hidden beneath the thick fabric, was something square-shaped and solid.

Looking around furtively to see if anyone was watching, you carefully reached into the pocket -- and your shaking fingers hit a cool metal surface. Heart hammering against your chest, you pulled a Walkman -- Jeongin’s silver Walkman, the earbuds tangled around it -- and two tapes out.

Your eyes widened, nearly dropping them on the spot. These were surely pieces of evidence the investigation were waiting for, and the last thing you should have been doing was touching them -- but you felt a burning curiosity as you turned the tapes over in your hands. You knew Jeongin carried his Walkman everywhere, whether he was listening to music or recording his own personal voice memos.

What if Jeongin had been recording the night he was attacked?

You hastily pressed the PLAY button on the Walkman, but were met with nothing but cold silence. Not even a hum of static. Frowning, you flipped it over -- and saw a long crack running across the silver metal. Broken. Cursing under your breath, you started to slip the tape player back into Jeongin’s pocket when another thought hit you.

Deep in the heart of Miroh Heights, tucked into the oldest part of town, was an old, rundown electronics store. It had once been a record trading shop, but it sold all sorts of vintage paraphernalia now. You had never had a reason to visit it -- until now.

Before you could hesitate, you stuffed the busted tape player into one pocket and the two tapes in the other, pulling out your phone to text Hyunjin.

You: Hey! Something came up, sorry I had to leave :(

You: I’ll see you tomorrow, take care. ‘kay Jinnie?

Taking a deep breath, you whispered, “Sorry, Jeongin,” before you pulled aside the curtains and took off.

────────

Young Wings Record Shop was a pain in the ass to find. You had looped around Mia’s Diner nine times before you managed to spot the small store wedged between two Chinese restaurants. Out of breath, you burst through the door -- and stepped straight into another world.

The shop was so...cozy. Inside, you felt completely cut off from the rest of the world -- the bustle of people and traffic outside muffled by the soundproof walls, a Beatles song playing faintly overhead. Rows upon rows of CDs, albums and records lined the room in cluttered rows and shelves, vintage posters and license plates adorning the walls. You had nearly forgotten the reason you’d come, lost in the sudden, rare peace and quiet, when a lazy drawl snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Hi, can I help you?” A black cat leaped from the lap of the boy who had spoken, pattering to your feet. You vaguely recognized him -- Seo Changbin, former music major. He wasn’t a stranger, but he wasn’t exactly a friend, either -- you’d caught glimpses of him around campus, but never exchanged more than a polite nod or hello. He was sitting behind the counter, partially hidden behind a comic book he had been reading. Both pet and owner stared back at you with equally inquisitive eyes, blinking sleepily.

“I-I need you to help me play some tapes. I heard you sell players–-” You stammered, still trying to catch your breath.

The record store owner frowned, pushing dark hair out of his heavy-lidded eyes. “CDs, camcorders, tape players, yeah, I sell ‘em all. But why? What tapes do you need to play?”

Your fingers scrabbled at your pockets, fishing out the two tapes. “Yang Jeongin’s – the delivery boy’s. From the night he got attacked.”

Recognition flashed in Changbin’s eyes, his eyebrows shooting up. “Shouldn’t those go to the cops?”

You swallowed hard. “I--I need to hear them myself. I…” You were at a loss for words. How were you supposed to explain the small, horrible feeling you had in your gut? How were you supposed to explain why you were doing this when you weren’t even entirely sure yourself?

Changbin studied your face thoughtfully. Time seemed to pass more slowly in the record shop, the black cat circling around you like a small panther. “Y/N, right?” You nodded slowly. After what seemed like ages, he finally said, “Alright. I won’t turn you in.” When you looked up, surprised, he added, “But only if you let me listen to ‘em, too.”

You bit your lip, nodding again slowly. This hadn’t been part of the plan, but a part of you was almost relieved that you wouldn’t have to listen to them alone. You had no idea what had really happened that night -- and now, you weren’t sure if you were ready to find out.

With a tilt of his head, Changbin lead you to the back of the shop, pushing open the door to the storage room. The space looked more like he had turned it into a makeshift living room: shipments of records had been pushed up against the walls and a large beanbag sofa sat in the middle of the room, an old TV and video game consoles piled before it. Comic books, batteries and wires littered the floor and a small producer’s desk stood in the corner, complete with a keyboard, monitor, and speakers. Frosted, barred windows let in weak strains of sunlight into the dim warehouse.

From what you had heard from Felix, Changbin had been studying music at Miroh Heights before he dropped out under special circumstances. His father, who used to manage the shop, had fallen ill, and Changbin was the only surviving family member who could take care of the old man. In that way, Changbin almost reminded you of Hyunjin -- that is, if Hyunjin was more of a recluse, and half of his original height.

Rummaging through a small cardboard box, Changbin pulled out a red tape player and earbuds, motioning for you to join him on the couch. With a click, Changbin inserted the first tape, and after looking at you for confirmation, he pressed PLAY.

The Walkman whirred to life and Changbin cranked up the volume, a familiar tune trickling into your ears.

The voices tormenting me are crying out again

Step out of the voices,

Cover my ears, but they’re shouting again

Step out of the voices,

Break free from the voices in my head

You could tell Changbin recognized the song, too -- it was by one of Jeongin’s favourite artists, but you couldn’t remember their names for the life of you. Jeongin had removed the instrumental, you realised, sounds of crickets and rain collected from his long delivery shifts mixed into the melody instead. Carefully, you skipped through the tape -- it was all songs by the same group, a little mixtape the delivery boy had created for himself.

You popped out the tape and switched it with the second one. Would this one be full of songs, too? At first, there was nothing besides the faint buzz of static, but as you listened closer, you heard Jeongin’s heavy breathing. It sounded like he was pedalling -- so he’d recorded this one during his deliveries, too. By the sound of it, it was a voice memo -- you remembered he liked to record them on longer nights. “It keeps me from falling asleep,” he had told you once. “Plus, it’s fun.”

“I.N. here!” His bright voice sent chills down your spine. I.N., you thought with a pang -- that was the nickname Jeongin gave himself on these voice memos, as if he were hosting a podcast on a radio show, instead recording on an old tape player. “It is currently...2:04 A.M.! It’s my first late-night delivery -- or is it early morning? Anyways, it’s exciting, huh? The whole campus seems to be sleeping; no one’s out on these streets at this hour. It feels pretty cool, like I’m carrying out a secret mission or something.”

2:04 A.M. You and Changbin exchanged looks, a feeling of dread twisting unpleasantly at your gut. Jeongin had been found at 5 in the morning. There were only three hours left.

“Anyways. Why did I take up another job? Well, today Hyunjin -- he’s the barista, owner, really, of Glow Cafe -- asked me why I didn’t apply for, you know, a driver’s license or something. At first, I thought, well, there’s no point -- I can’t afford a car, anyways. But--” You heard him sigh, then laugh -- the carefree, innocent laugh that was known for making everyone’s morning. “I’ve decided that it’s worth a try, right? I want to pay off my student loans soon. Maybe fix my bike up. It’ll be hard at first, but nothing Yang Jeongin can’t take! Me and my bike, we’re unstoppable.”

This was the last day you had seen Jeongin conscious -- you remembered the playful exchange between the barista and the delivery boy. You hadn’t even realized you were silently crying until Changbin pushed pause on the tape, reaching for a box of tissues with a worried expression on his face. You quietly thanked him and started the tape again, furiously wiping the tears away -- and heard something that made you freeze.

A woman’s scream -- muffled, distorted, but it was there. Grabbing at the tape player, you looked to Changbin. “W-wait. Did you hear that?”

He shook his head and frowned, rewinding the player and pressing PLAY again. Sure enough, under Jeongin’s voice, you heard a bloodcurdling shriek, followed by a man crying out in guttural pain. You felt your breath hitch in your throat. Jeongin was still humming -- he had his earbuds in, you realised; he must not have been able to hear it. The sharp snapping of tree branches and the whisper of fallen tree leaves made goosebumps prick at your skin. Jeongin had entered the Yellow Wood now, the wind whistling through the treetops.

Any moment now.

Suddenly, you heard the bike skid to a stop and you listened, holding your breath. What’s happening?

“Hello? Is everything okay over there?” Jeongin’s voice sounded tinny and distant -- as if he’d pulled his earbuds out. There was no response, and both you and Changbin instinctively leaned closer, straining to hear. You heard Jeongin give a cry of horror, your own heart pounding wildly in your throat.

“U-um. Is he--do you need help? I can call an ambulance. What hap--”

CRUNCH.

Jeongin’s small gasp of pain was enough to make your gut flip, your nails digging so hard into your palms you felt them break through the skin. A deafening crack echoed through the earbuds as the Walkman hit the pavement, the wire skittering from Jeongin’s ears. You could hear a muffled, heavy breathing of someone approaching -- it wasn’t Jeongin, and yet it sounded so...familiar. Gripping the couch to steady yourself, you forced yourself to listen, to stay calm. You had found it, you had found him -- whoever it was that had killed that man, whoever it was that had attacked Jeongin that night, the tape would have recorded it all. You were so close--

You heard the rustling of fabric, as if the killer had abruptly dropped to his knees over Jeongin. His breathing was hoarse and ragged, strange, muffled sounds blending into the static -- and you realised with a start that the killer was crying. Turning to Changbin, you opened your mouth to say something when you heard it. In an instant, your heart plummeted to your gut, your blood turning to ice.

“Who--why? Why is it you? Why are you here?”

You felt your mouth drop open, cold sweat forming on your palms.

You could recognise that voice anywhere. Over the phone or in person; his laughs, his jokes, his whispers.

“You’d look good in red.”

“I saw the body, and my curiosity got the better of me.”

“Things are never quite as they seem, y/n.”

It dawned on you now, why the breathing had sounded so familiar. Why you’d had an uneasy feeling in your gut all morning -- no, ever since the day you’d first met him. It all burst open now, flooding your head and chest like a burning poison consuming you from the inside out. You looked down at your hands, where the faint red of someone else’s blood still stained your palms.

Han Jisung.

You dropped the tape, Changbin diving to salvage it before it crashed onto the cold concrete floor. “Hey--hey, are you okay? Is that--is that him? The guy they’re looking for?”

Hot, horrified tears were pricking at your widened eyes and you buried your head in your hands. In the tape, you could hear Jisung’s scared, choked sobs, and that was enough to make you finally break down, shoulders shaking with sobs of your own. Changbin bit his lip worriedly as he watched you. “Do--do you...know him?” He finally asked.

You felt yourself nod slowly in shock, but your ears were ringing and all you could think was no, no, this can’t be happening. No, no, no. Han Jisung is not--

The tape was still playing, the sound distorted as if you were trapped in a horrible, never-ending nightmare. You couldn’t make out anything clearly anymore, just the shuffling of clothing and feet. You heard what sounded like a doorbell--Glow Cafe’s doorbell--and the sound of footsteps rapidly fading as Jisung ran away. There was a faint click as the tape finally ran out and stopped, and leaving you and Changbin in a hollow, heavy silence.

Wordlessly, the dark-haired boy adjusted his black cap and gently pulled your earbuds out, tucking the red Walkman into your hands. “I won’t ask if you don’t want me to. Keep it if you still need it,” he told you slowly, patting your back. He gave you a reassuring smile, but even his heavy lidded eyes looked slightly shaken. “As for me...I won’t say anything to the cops unless you're cool with it. So don’t worry, ‘aight?”

You nodded, the ground still feeling as if it were about to give way beneath you. Wiping at your eyes and clearing your throat, you forced yourself to stand, knees wobbling slightly. “Thank you.”

Changbin nodded, watching you with a concerned expression as you stumbled shakily out of the storage room, disappearing behind the rows of store shelves. Swaying slightly, head pounding so hard your eyes struggled to focus properly, you pushed open the glass door. The rumble of the city rushed into your ears, greeting you with the familiar sound of cars and citizens hustling about. A group of freshmen gave you a weird look as they walked past. You must have looked like death itself.

If Jisung had been as panicked as he’d sounded on the tape, there was no way he would have had time to dispose of whatever he’d used to knock Jeongin out -- and yet the coroner’s report had come out claiming that there were no traces of DNA, fingerprints, or murder weapon. Impossible -- how could they have not found a single piece of evidence from the crime scene, the brutally beaten body -- or even Jeongin himself? He was a living witness, and yet the tapes and his clothing had been left completely untouched. It was almost as if...

It was almost as if the coroner had been tampering with the investigation.

You felt a wave of nausea hit you like a ton of bricks and took a deep, shaky breath, screwing your eyes shut as the ground spun beneath you. If everything was true, then there one more man who held the last missing piece of the puzzle.

In the distance, the rooftop of Miroh Heights Hospital loomed ominously. As if someone were pushing you forward, you fell into a run, only one coherent thought on your mind.

You needed to find Lee Minho.

1K notes · View notes

readysetstarker · 5 years

Note

Same anon as earlier except it's not 1 AM. Different AU where Tony's a single father and he hires a babysitter/assistant to help him out. Enter cute lil Peter Parker who's a ray of goddamn sunshine. Tony doesn't even realize he's got a daddy kink until Morgan tells Peter that she doesn't want Tony to go to work and Peter says "well Daddy works really hard". Tony's trying to figure out how to woo him when Peter's already in love with him. Potential for fluff is off the charts. If you're into that

my sweet, sweet anon. i am so sorry. you said “fluff” but i’m a complete and utter slut for “daddy fucks the babysitter” so this went a…. different direction than you maybe wanted it to. i’m sorry. i see “daddy kink,” i make it dirty. if you want fluff, i’ll be happy to write you something else!

Warnings: Peter is 19. Single Dad!Tony and Babysitter!Peter. Daddy kink, age gap, rimming, handjobs, dirty talk, cum eating. 5.6k of self-indulgence in my fav porn trope ok.

Tag list: @am-i-spidertwink, @marvel-shxt, @peterparkerstarker

—

Tony was desperate. Ten minutes before he was supposed to leave for work, brushing his daughter’s hair in the bathroom and promising her a fun day at the zoo with her babysitter (he had already paid for the tickets online, the receipt for them sitting on the counter), he had gotten the call that she wouldn’t be showing up. He needed to be at work to negotiate a deal with investors, they needed him there, but she had been adamant about not showing up and hung up on him mid-plea.

Tony kept his frustrations quiet so his daughter wouldn’t hear and made a call to Pepper, who he knew would be upset with his tardiness, but she’d throw him a bone. She had been a single parent for a while before meeting her current husband. She understood Tony’s situation better than anyone.

He explained as best he could without alerting his daughter that her favorite sitter in the world wouldn’t be showing up. She was already stressed because of the meeting, and he knew he wasn’t making things easier on her.

“You don’t have a backup?” she asked once he was finished.

“No!” Tony glanced over his shoulder to make sure Morgan wasn’t listening. She was playing with her toy mechanic set, pretending to fix up the Barbie cadillac from another playset. “Melissa has always been reliable. I’ve been using her for three years! I don’t know what happened, but she’s refusing to come in today, and I don’t have a replacement.”

Pepper sighed, her breath creating static in the phone’s speaker. Tony wanted to give her a snappy remark about how this definitely affected him more than her, but she spoke before he could get the chance.

“I can give you the number for the one I use, then. Lizzy’s at my mom’s for the week,” she offered. A wave of relief crashed over Tony. “He hasn’t failed me yet, and Lizzy really likes him. He also cleans up after himself if they make a mess.”

“You use a male babysitter?”

“Is that really something you’re concerned about right now?”

Tony groaned. “No, no, whatever. Just send me his number, and let Obadiah know I’ll be late, okay? I can’t afford to be picky right now.”

—

Tony had to hand it to Pepper, she definitely knew how to pick them. The kid hadn’t answered his first call, probably thinking he was a spam number, but the second earned him a very confused and tentative hello? After explaining he was a coworker of Pepper’s and that he was desperate for a babysitter, Peter promised he would be there within the hour. Tony texted him the address and worked on coming down from his panic attack.

Explaining to Morgan that her favorite babysitter wouldn’t be there wasn’t going to be fun, but he made her pancakes for breakfast and tried to break the news to her gently. She didn’t take it well, pouting with a cheek full of pancakes and syrup.

True to his word, Peter had shown up in just under 30 minutes. His hair was a nest of messy brown curls, a wrinkled red hoodie laying unzipped on his shoulders, and he was slightly out of breath. Tony tried not to think about whether or not the kid had sprinted to his home to come to his rescue but ushered him inside.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” he said as Peter stepped into the threshold and looked around. “I’m sorry it’s so last minute, but my usual sitter cancelled on me an hour ago.”

“It’s no problem, I’m happy to help,” Peter said. He smiled up at Tony, eyes scrunching together at the corners. “I’m sorry about your other sitter, though.”

“Morgan’s more upset than I am. I’m sorry if she’s rude to you today. Melissa is her favorite sitter.” Or was, Tony supposed. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to bring her on again after today. “How long are you available for?”

“However long you need me.” Peter shrugged. “My normal rate is twenty-five an hour, but all things considered, I can drop it to just fifteen.”

“I’ll pay you double your rate.“

"Mr. Stark, that's—”

“Its an emergency, and I can promise you I’m good for it.” Tony put a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t express how much I appreciate you accepting this job.”

Peter opened his mouth like he was going to argue but instead closed it and nodded. Tony was grateful for no more arguments and squeezed his shoulder. His hand clamped down on a fair amount of muscle.

“Okay, let’s introduce you to my little devil.”

Tony put a hand on Peter’s back and ushered him into the kitchen. Morgan was still sitting at the table with her pancakes looking to the world like a child on the verge of a tantrum. Tony knew she would never, he had raised her better than that, but that didn’t stop her face from turning red and her lips from pulling into a deep frown at the sight of them. Tony resisted the urge to apologize for his daughter’s face.

He chose to clear his throat and fix Morgan with a stern, disapproving look instead. She gave it right back. Father’s daughter, wasn’t she?

“Morgan, this is Peter,” he said. Peter gave Morgan a small wave that went ignored. “He’s going to be taking you to the zoo today instead of Melissa, okay?”

“I don’t want to go with him. I want Melissa,” Morgan stated, and Tony sighed.

Peter stood awkwardly at the entrance of the kitchen as Tony walked over to his daughter and knelt by her. Morgan moved to turn towards him, purposely putting her back to Peter as best she could in her chair. Tony would have to reprimand her about that later.

“I know, baby, but Melissa had to call out today. Peter watches your friend Lizzy for Pepper, you know? Lizzy’s with her grandma, but maybe we can see about Peter chaperoning a playdate later.” Morgan did seem to perk up at that, glancing at Peter with her big brown eyes, and then back to her dad.

“If Melissa can’t take me, why can’t you?” she asked.

Well, shit, what was Tony supposed to say to that? He knew he was needed at work, but damn, did his daughter know how to hit his weak points. Still, being absent at such an important meeting could result in his latest environmental project losing a good bit of funding. He couldn’t risk it, and the only thing stopping him was Morgan’s expert use of her pout.

His saving grace came in the form of Peter, when he stepped forward and gave Morgan that sweet, shining smile he’d given Tony earlier.

“Hey, Morgan, I know you want Daddy to stay, but his work really needs him,” he said, voice soft as he addressed her. Tony’s mouth really shouldn’t have gone dry at hearing a significantly younger man call him Daddy, of all things, but that certainly didn’t stop him. “I’ll just be with you today, and then Melissa can take care of you again tomorrow, okay?”

Morgan recognized when she was losing, at least. She turned to her dad and gave him a weak nod. Tony smiled at her and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you, hon. Pizza for dinner?”

“And cheese sticks.”

Tony ruffled her hair and jumped to his feet. “Thank you again, Peter. I’ve already bought the zoo tickets, the receipt’s on the counter. If you show them that, you shouldn’t have any problem getting in.”

After making sure he had everything he needed and giving Morgan as very quick kiss on her forehead, Tony was out the door and on the road. He sent Pepper a text to let her know he was on his way, and to stall the meeting if it started without him. He also thanked her for her babysitter recommendation and hoped Peter could put up with Morgan’s infamous attitude if things went south.

—

Peter very quickly became Morgan’s new favorite.

The zoo trip had been a magnanimous success, with Tony being included in the form of having pictures, text updates, and videos being sent to him. The video of his daughter screaming in a mix of disgust and delight at having a giraffe tongue curl around her hand while she attempted to feed it a bundle of leaves, with Peter holding her up and laughing, was his favorite. He had shown it to Pepper, who laughed so hard she had tears prickling in her eyes.

Tony had come home to an excited Morgan recounting their day while Peter cleaned up some of her art supplies from the coffee table in the living room. Peter had managed to keep her from repainting the carpet, another point in his favor. Morgan was absolutely smitten with him by the time Peter left, even going as far as to hug him before he was out the door.

When asked if she wanted Melissa or Peter to watch movies with her the next day, Peter’s name was practically screamed into the living room. Melissa was sent a very quick and to-the-point text that Tony was no longer interested in keeping her under his employ. A flurry of apologetic texts and pleas for the job followed, but Tony let them pile up as he helped his daughter get ready for bed.

Peter seemed to have plenty of things planned for him and Morgan to do. One day, it’s free painting classes at a local art shop. Peter was horrible at it, but he still grinned into the camera when he and Morgan took a picture together with their newly-created masterpieces. Another day, Peter took her to an air and space museum where she made a working propellor engine at a craft table and Peter cheered for her behind the camera on his phone when she got it working.

Morgan’s face lit up with each recounting of their days together, and Pepper started complaining at work of Tony hogging her babysitter. It was all lighthearted, as Peter made sure he could make time for Lizzy, too. Some days, he watched them both and sent his updates in a group chat that included both parents.

It had gone on long enough that Tony, despite a lot of internal debate and self-deprecation, had found himself eyeing the boy much more than he should. Sometimes he replayed the videos Peter sent him over and over again, if only just to hear Peter’s voice or laugh while Morgan continued on with her activities. He hated to admit it to himself, but the videos where Peter referred to him as Daddy had been saved to his phone, just so he could keep track of them and listen to the way the boy’s tongue wrapped around the word.

That word shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, as innocently as Peter had said it, but there was no denying the spike of heat that went through him every time it fell from the boy’s lips, and it was just his voice that took Tony apart. Morgan saying it made warmth spread through his chest, made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her cheek and spoil her until she was rotten. When Peter said it, it made him want to bend the boy over his kitchen table and fuck him stupid.

Tony kept their relationship professional, though. He kept his thoughts, and especially his hands, to himself. Peter was completely unaware of his feelings, and that was exactly how it should have been.

Keyword: should.

Tony’s resolve was well-tested when he came home nearly three months after having hired Peter as his babysitter. He had gone out to dinner with a few colleagues, texting Peter an update and asking him to put Morgan to bed for him. He received a confirmation text just a few moments later, along with a text for him to have fun but not too much fun.

Oh, the ways his brain managed to twist those words in a millisecond. He responded with no promises and put his phone away before Peter had a chance to reprimand him.

Dinner turned into dessert turned into drinks. Tony swallowed down his third glass of scotch and was thankful that it had been Pepper’s turn to drive that night. She was nursing a small cup of coffee the bartender had given her after she explained she was driving, and he had something whipped together for her free of charge. Tony tried not to eye it too much; it smelled amazing, and he could have killed for a cup.

Instead, he drank down the last of his drink before checking the time on his phone. Two AM. Panic ran through him. He, and surely Pepper, hadn’t meant to stay out so late. Tony paid out his tab and they both said their farewells to their colleagues before rushing out of the bar. Pepper and Tony chastised themselves the entire way for making their sitters stay so late.

Tony unlocked and tiptoed through his front door, hoping not to wake Morgan with his arrival. Goofy voices and music echoed through the house from the living room, and Tony’s heart damn near melted at the sight of Morgan curled up against Peter’s side, head turned into his stomach, while both were sound asleep on the couch. Some television show they had been watching before passing out continued on, and neither stirred at a sudden sound effect that had even Tony jumping. Both were out cold.

Peter made such a sight while sound asleep; his face was relaxed, no sign of stress, and he was smiling, goddamn smiling, in his sleep, head turned away from the side Morgan had snuggled up to and propped his cheek on his hand. His soft brown hair was just a little mussed up, as if he had fallen asleep against the backrest before propping himself up. Soft snores came with each breath in.

God, what Tony wouldn’t give to not have to wake him. He’d been there before, though, and knew Peter would wake up with a sore neck and shoulder if he didn’t do something.

He gave Peter a small shake at first, and while the boy’s head bobbled in his palm, he didn’t seem to stir. Tony gave him a few moments to come to before giving him another shake, this one a little more forceful. Peter’s brow furrowed, mouth scrunching up in a frown. He made a noise from his throat.

“Daddy,” Peter murmured, and Tony’s heart just about jumped into his chest. There was none of the cheeriness in his voice, the way he said it to Morgan. It was sleepy and groggy, and Tony tried not to let his brain hold onto the way it had so easily been said. Too late.

Tony chuckled to himself, a deeper sound than he meant it to be. “Yeah, Pete, it’s your Daddy. Come on, get up.”

Tony gave him another shake, and that seemed to do it. Peter’s beautiful brown eyes opened up, staring dreamily at him for a moment, before he blinked rapidly and straightened up. His cheeks and neck turned a beautiful rosy color, like he knew exactly what he had said while Tony was waking him up. His voice was sleep-addled and scratchy when he sputtered out a quiet, “M-Mr. Stark!”

Tony shushed him and nodded to Morgan. “Don’t want to wake her, do we?” he asked, and he tried to keep his tone as even as possible. The alcohol in his system made that leagues harder than necessary.

Peter rubbed at his eyes, pointedly keeping them downcast. “What time is it?”

“Little after two-thirty. I’m gonna take her to bed myself, if you don’t mind.”

Peter moved so Tony could scoop his daughter up into his arms, but he made sure his hands brushed the boy’s thigh. The choked noise Peter made sent electricity crackling along his skin, and Tony pretended not to notice it.

Tony got Morgan comfortable in bed. He pulled her thick comforter over her, stroking her hair out of her face and giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead. With her favorite llama toy tucked up under her arm, Tony made sure to turn on her night light, sending lit shadows of stars and moons spinning around her periwinkle-painted room. She stayed asleep as he shut her door behind him.

Peter had stayed behind to clean up some of the mess from the living room, and looked to the world a guilty criminal when he said quietly, “I’m so sorry for letting her fall asleep on the couch, Mr. Stark. I’ve been studying all week for finals and I’ve been so tired, I must have just passed out.”

Tony put a hand up, waving dismissively. “It’s okay, kid. No harm done, she’s sound asleep.”

Peter visibly relaxed at that, closing one of Morgan’s coloring cooks and collecting the scattered crayons and colored pencils on the table. Tony made a pit stop in the kitchen to drink a glass of water because god, Peter’s thighs looked absolutely gorgeous in his dark skinny jeans. His hoodie was scrunched up around his hips, showing off the perfect curve of his ass when he bent over to retrieve a stray sheet of paper.

Tony turned away from the scene of Peter bending over to clean and finished his glass in record time.

When he had finally crawled out of his hiding place by the fridge, he caught Peter sitting on the couch with his black backpack between his legs and stuffing notebooks and papers into it. He barely looked up when Tony came and joined him, making sure he was sitting close enough that their knees touched.

“Pep and I didn’t mean to stay out so late,” he said, and Peter’s head snapped up to look at him. “I hope I wasn’t keeping you from anything important.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Peter ducked his head. “Morgan and I just watched a few movies, and she colored while I was studying. It was a really quiet night. I think we were both out before ten o’clock.”

Tony chuckled, his hand coming down on Peter’s thigh. “I’m glad you had such a good night, then. I have a guest room upstairs, if you want.”

Peter’s eyes flicked to the hand on his thigh, but he made no move to remove it or ask Tony to do so. Instead, he seemed to shift closer, and Tony’s hand just barely squeezed his leg. “I don’t want to put you out, Mr. Stark.”

“You’re not, kid. And it’s better than trying to get home at this hour, don’t you think?”

Peter’s lips fell apart, likely a response prepared in his head, but he never said it, as Tony’s hand moving up just a touch made him shut his mouth so quickly his teeth clicked together. A moment of hesitation passed between them; Tony had an apology prepared in his head, to blame it on the alcohol and forgetting his professionalism. He would take his hand away and retreat into his room.

Instead, Peter ducked his gaze, chewed his lip, met Tony’s eyes again.

“Mr. Stark,” he said, and he sounded wonderfully breathless.

“Hm?”

He hesitated again. “If this is going where I think it is,” he started, voice cracking with each slowly-uttered word, “you need to make the first move. I don’t know if I—”

Tony didn’t wait for more permission. His other hand reached for Peter’s neck, two fingers burying themselves in the soft curls at the nape, and he sat himself up to meet Peter in the kiss halfway through. The collision of their lips draws out a startled noise from him, and for a moment, Tony wondered if maybe that was the wrong move, that maybe he was coming on too strong.

Tony’s fears were put to rest when Peter moved closer across the cushion, kissing him back, letting Tony’s tongue breach the seam of his lips. Tony leaned back, just a hair to catch his breath, and Peter followed him. He scrambled into Tony’s lap and took Tony’s face in both his hands. Tony’s tongue slipped back into his mouth, and the sweet noise he made had Tony’s cock twitching in his pants. His hands framed the boy’s thin hips, guiding him to grind down.

It’s electric, feeling Peter fit so perfectly against the palm of his hands. The shirt he was wearing rode up and Tony could feel the exposed skin against his fingertips. He was so soft and warm, and Tony wanted nothing more than to get his hands on more of Peter’s skin.

His hips jerked up suddenly when he felt fingers between them, sneaking their way down his stomach until they found the growing bulge between Tony’s thighs. Peter stroked along the swollen shaft of Tony’s cock and squeezed around him with a roll of his hips. Tony moaned into Peter’s mouth and slipped his fingers through his hair.

They had to come up for air, eventually. Peter’s heavy breaths mixed with Tony’s, lips spit-slick and red, and the brown of his eyes were beginning to give way to blackened lust. Tony took in every detail. He raised his hand to thumb at Peter’s bottom lip, and he sucked in a breath when Peter leaned forward, wrapped his lips around the digit, and hollowed his cheeks while letting his tongue swipe over the pad. Tony couldn’t help but groan, pulling himself free with a wet pop.

There was still spit hanging from Peter’s lip when he pulled back, a shiny stripe reaching all the way down to his chin.

“Holy fuck, baby,” Tony said, and he realized just how much breath Peter had stolen from him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

A tight squeeze from Peter’s fingers had his hips jerking, a groan pouring between his lips. Peter kissed him once, drew his bottom lip between his teeth. Tony followed when he pulled away. Peter’s hand on his crotch slid up and pushed against Tony’s chest to stop him.

“Yeah?” Peter whispered, rolling his hips. “How long? Tell me how long.”

The desperation in his voice made Tony’s heart skip a beat. He wanted nothing more than to taste Peter’s mouth again, to get his lips on his skin. Tony’s hands clamping down on his hips had Peter gasping.

“When you called me ‘daddy’ for the first time, that first day I hired you.” Peter let Tony drag him down into another wet and sloppy kiss. “Got my blood going like you wouldn’t believe.”

Peter moaned into the kiss, hot breath against Tony’s lips, hitching when Tony’s teeth pinched his bottom lip. His fingers sifted through Tony’s hair and paid special attention to the grays at his temple, and he rocked his hips against Tony’s hands as they slipped beneath his shirt and mapped out each muscle of his back. A shiver ran through him, and instead of Tony’s name falling from his lips, he leaned to mouth the word Daddy into Tony’s mouth.

It took every ounce of Tony’s self control not to throw him onto the couch and take him there Instead, he pushed Peter’s shirt higher, and the boy whipped it off himself, silently encouraging Tony’s hands to roam while pulling him in for a kiss. Raking his nails down the boy’s sides and latching his mouth to a pink, peaked nipple earned Tony a delicious little sound.

Peter’s fingers pulling on his hair make his scalp sting, and that painful throb went straight to his cock.

“Get up, baby,” Tony said, his breath overtaking each word. “On your feet, turn around. I want to get my mouth on you.”

“Oh, yes, Daddy, please.”

Tony had to bite back against the wave of arousal that ran through him at that word, the way Peter said it, how eagerly he followed Tony’s orders and jumped to his feet. He reached back when Tony’s lips pressed against the skin of his hip. Tony left open-mouthed kisses along Peter’s spine, drinking in each sound he made, chuckling as one of his hands slid between the boy’s legs to cup the tenting bulge in his jeans. Peter nearly doubled over at his touch.

After nearly sending Peter to the floor with his rough touches, Tony felt up to the button at his waistband and toyed with the zipper once it was undone. He paused, waiting for permission, until Peter was rocking his hips forward and begging Tony to keep going.

“Ssshh, Petey, I’ve got you.” Tony kissed the dip of his spine just about the hem of his jeans. “But you need to keep quiet. Wouldn’t want to wake the little devil, now would we?”

Peter made a rather undignified noise when Tony finally got his zipper undone and slipped his fingers into the waistband of his underwear. The hand on Tony’s head disappeared and reappeared to clamp over Peter’s mouth, now muffling the keening little whines he was making as Tony kissed and nipped the skin just over his ass and slowly, slowly, pulled his pants and underwear down to his thighs.

The boy’s jeans, even the skinniest of them, had not done it justice. It was soft and gorgeously curved, plump skin beneath his fingers when Tony pulled his hand from Peter’s zipper to grope at one of his cheeks. Peter went stiff under his grip when he curled his fingers in and squeezed.

“Still with me, baby?” he asked, teeth nipping at the other cheek. “Is this okay?”

“It will be when you hurry up and touch me,” Peter whined, bending to push his ass against Tony’s face. “Daddy, please, I can’t stand this teasing. I need you.”

I need you.

Tony’s cock stirred from inside of his slacks. He desperately wanted to free himself, to pull himself out of his pants and alleviate the pressure building in his groin. Instead, he ignored it and focused on the squirming boy in front of him, who was now looking over his shoulder with a blush that reached the back of his shoulders.

Tony wasted little time in marking his way down, pulling one of Peter’s cheeks to expose his entrance. Peter made a pathetic little whine, turning away cover his mouth as Tony watched him clench with embarrassment. It was a cute little hole, tight; no one had taken him, and that thought only made Tony harder. He leaned forward until he could lick a full, flat stripe up it. He could feel the ring of muscle tighten under his tongue, and Peter’s moan was buffered by the meat of his palm.

The reverberating growl in Tony’s chest at the sheer clean taste of Peter on his tongue made the teen’s knees shake. Tony repeated the movement with a little more strength to it and found Peter rocking back against his mouth.

He set a slow, torturous pace, alternating sucking and licking, moaning into Peter just to watch the muscles of his thighs tremble. Peter’s other hand found Tony’s knee and squeezed the fabric so hard in his fingers that Tony was sure the fabric would be permanently distorted. Tony found that he didn’t care if Peter were to tear his pants apart. He’d buy two dozen replacements if it meant having Peter in this position and mewling his name like a mantra every night.

Tony reached around to place his hand low on Peter’s hip and pull him back, tongue pressing inwards at Peter’s rim and listening to the muffled moans and gasps. His nails dug into Tony’s knee when the tip pressed enough to breach, to soften him until he opened beautifully under Tony’s lips, and Tony’s moan vibrating around his entrance had Peter’s cock twitching with his thundering pulse. He rutted his hips back.

“Daddy,” he moaned between his fingers, separating them so Tony could hear him clearly. “Oh, Daddy, that feels so good. Oh, fuck!”

Peter’s knees began to knock together, his legs struggling to hold up his weight under Tony’s ministrations. Each breath shook, and Tony was sure that Peter would have crumpled to the floor when he eased a finger in alongside his penetrating tongue, if not for the hand pressing against his hip. Peter’s moan broke off, caught in his throat, and Tony crooking his finger nearly had the boy collapsing to the floor.

Tony came up for air and sank his teeth into one of the plush cheeks of Peter’s ass. The sound he made went straight to Tony’s cock.

“Taste amazing, sweet boy,” Tony said, the compliment pouring from him so naturally. “How did I wait so long to get my hands on you? Fuck, you’ve been torturing me for weeks.”

Peter practically giggled from where he was bent over, clamping both hands over his mouth when all strength left him and he collapsed into Tony’s chest. Tony eased him back, wrapped his arms around the boy’s lithe and bare frame, and mouthed against the unmarked column of his throat. If he had his way, Peter would be waking up the next day with a neck and chest littered with little red hickies. He’d have to hide them from Morgan, from the rest of the world. Tony couldn’t wait to start putting them there.

Almost like Peter could read his mind, the boy’s fingers came to circle his neck, and he ground his ass back against the obvious bulge nestled under him. Tony hissed and took his earlobe between his teeth.

“You wanna come, baby?” he asked, tongue tracing the shell of Peter’s ear. “You want Daddy to get you off, to fuck you, to eat you out again? Want Daddy to turn you into a little mess on his bed, have you spread out and fingered until you’re loose?”

Peter’s hand fell from his mouth. His answering whimper was left uncovered. One of Tony’s hands found his pretty little cock, the head a dark, burning red and leaking against his hip. He stroked him slowly once and twisted his wrist at the head. His thumb rubbing along the slit had Peter’s hips jerking and squirming in his lap.

“Use your words, baby. Tell Daddy what you want.”

“I want, ah,” Peter moaned. He thrust into Tony’s fist. The pace was slow, nowhere near enough to get him off. “Please, Daddy, I want you to fuck me. Use me for your own pleasure, make me earn mine.”

Tony groaned into his neck, kissing his pulse and squeezing Peter’s cock hard enough to get him to move between his legs. The friction only served to stoke the flame burning low between Tony’s hips. He moved his hand faster and scraped his teeth across Peter’s skin.

“You want all that? Wanna be Daddy’s personal cocksleeve, your only purpose to get Daddy off?” Tony growled. Peter put a hand back over his mouth, tears springing in his eyes, but he nodded and continued fucking into Tony’s fist. “Daddy’s gonna let you come, sweet thing. You come, and then Daddy’s gonna use you the way you deserve to be used.”

Peter mewled as Tony sped his fist up, watching Peter fall apart between his legs. He did so well in keeping quiet, despite how much Tony wanted to hear him. The hand splayed across Peter’s chest moved past his neck and up to his lips, where Peter obediently parted them to let Tony’s fingers slip past. Peter sucked and swallowed around the digits in his mouth and swiped his tongue along Tony’s knuckles.

With each passing moment, his hips moved more erratically. His nostrils flared with each breath until Tony pressed his fingers further into Peter’s mouth, and the boy gagged loudly on them, drool spilling over Tony’s hand and Peter’s chin as the boy went rigid and spilled himself over Tony’s fingers.

Tony moved his hand until Peter’s moans turned into pained whimpers, and he removed his hand from Peter’s mouth. The boy panted and shivered in Tony’s lap, and he petted Peter’s hair with his clean hand until he found the strength to speak again.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, and Tony laughed.

“You still wanna go upstairs, baby? Want me to fuck you senseless?”

Peter keened and nodded. “Yes.”

“Good boy.” Tony pressed a gentle kiss to the line of Peter’s jaw and lifted the fingers with Peter’s cum dripping from them to his lips. “But you need to clean your mess up first.”

Peter made no argument and shoved Tony’s filthy fingers into his mouth.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #my work #nff #Anonymous

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