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#its better than just keeping them all to myself and then getting frustrated at all the little things that stack up
precipitin · 1 year
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think i am just going to start posting
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29121996 · 9 months
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munch-mumbles · 10 months
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booooo vent in tags BOOOOO TOMATO TOMATO
#feeling very frustrated with how bad i am at being a person#like i just do not have the energy to survive#nothing can hold my attention anymore and its fucking with my desire to create anything#and thats not even in like a 'i need to make something to be worth something' way its more#'holy fucking christ im so fucking bored every day all the time forever' way#im also realizing that i fucking suck genuine ass at just talking to people#i dont know what to say in conversation. like im just fucking stupid#i have a small list of preloaded responses and if none of them fit what was said to me i STRUGGLE#i didnt always feel like this but im decaying#if more than two different people dm me in a day thats a whole Event#had something i wanted to say but got dsitracted for a second and immediately lost my train of thought loollll (gritted teeth)#whatever tldr im lonely but im too 2 dimensional of a person to know how to make friends anymore#i WANT to talk to people but talking has become exhausting and i dont know how to get better#if i at least had the energy to keep creating my own content to keep myself entertained i would be fine honestly#but i cant have anything so even thinking about the characters that i love feels like something i have to force myself to do#and still struggle with because i cant pay attention to jack shit#i like to think that maybe i just need to be medicated for something. probably adhd. and then ill be all better and happy#but 1 money 2 time 3 effort 4 what if it doesnt work#yeah time and effort sounds like little bitch shit and yeah it is but im not exaggerating when i say i have no energy#sorry the tags on this are getting so long i keep coming back to add more so i dont bug anyone with a new post#i just. i dont know what to do. im consistently unhappy every day and it keeps getting worse#if i wasnt scared to die i wouldve ended it months ago
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flemingsfreckles · 2 months
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Perfect To Me (18+)
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Preview: Jessie notices you acting differently, when she learns why, she’s determined to help.
Warnings: body image issues, self deprecation, self consciousness, some self hatred, SMUT (18+), somewhat controlling Jessie, mirror sex, edging, fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap on sex,
WC: 3.0k
Today had just been one of those days, you woke up and felt wrong. It started when you went into the bathroom, seeing two large pimples bright red on your face. Then when you changed you couldn’t help but notice every little detail wrong with your body, stretch marks, scars, blemishes, all of it, you hated it. You tried to get dressed, everything feeling too tight on your body caused you to spiral even further.
Jessie was quick to notice you were off, that morning opting to wear a sweatshirt and pants despite the warm weather. She then noticed at training the way you hurried off to the bathroom to change, unlike normal. She noticed you were frustrated at practice, having a rough day overall it seemed. On the way home you didn’t say anything, silently watching out the window, thinking about everything that went wrong.
“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” She questions you as she throws the car in park in the driveway.
“Don’t want to talk about it.” You dismiss her concerns for you.
Her hand comes over the console and finds its way to your thigh. “Babe, talk to me. You’ve been quiet all day, I’m worried about you.”
You loved Jessie, she had been a perfect girlfriend for the past year, but she was insistent. She always wanted to talk things through, it got on your nerves, sometimes you had to sit in self loathing first. “I feel like shit about myself Jessie! I’m bloated, nothing fits, everything is too tight, everything seems wrong, everyone else is running around with their toned stomachs and perfect legs, I have stretch marks, I have acne, I hate myself.”
“Hey!” Jessie snaps. “You’re not allowed to speak about my girlfriend like that!”
“I can talk about her however the fuck I want to, I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself.” You taunt Jessie as you unbuckled and closed the door hard behind you.
Jessie follows you in the house. She lets you be for the next few hours, keeping her distance knowing you just needed some time alone to work through your feelings. And you worked through those feelings, as best you could, still not loving your body, still annoyed at the way everything fit, but better than you were this morning.
Your uncomfortable feelings with your body fade slightly as the day goes on, you start to forget what a terrible start to your morning you had. You knew you were overreacting, feeling just overwhelmed with the day, you took it out on yourself, you always did. What you didn’t know was Jessie hadn’t forgotten the way you had moved away from the mirror at home, the way she saw you staring for too long at your thighs and stomach, the way you closed yourself in the bathroom at home and at work to change. She was determined to make you feel better, even if you had already done it for yourself.
Which is how she ended up feeling you up as the two of you attempted to watch a movie. The movie is quickly forgotten as she pulls you up onto her lap to straddle her. Her hands on your waist, pulling you into her, encouraging your grinding motion. Your hands run through her curls as your lips slide against each other.
She reaches for your shirt, you nod hard against her, letting her know it was okay to pull it up and over your head. Your self conscious feeling comes back slightly as Jessie’s eyes make their way across your body. She then slides her finger tips into the waistband of your pants.
“Can I?”
“Just touch me already Jess, don’t take them off.” You think you’re being subtle, just hoping she’ll think you’re desperate enough for her touch that she shouldn’t bother taking off your pants. It’s less that you’re desperate and more you didnt feel like being completely naked.
“Okay babe.” Her hand slides past your waistband and pushes aside your panties. “Fuck.” She whispers as she feels the arousal between your lips.
“Please Jess.” Maybe you actually were desperate for her touch. She brings her fingers up to your clit, beginning to play with it exactly how she knew to. Jessie would usually tease a bit, giving you soft touches, moving away for a moment, slowing down, but today she was doing all the right things. It was as if she was trying to get you off as quickly as possible. You ground down onto her fingers, increasing the friction and pleasure.
“Fuck Jessie.”
“You feel so good on my fingers baby.” She groans into you and your grip on her hair tightens.
“Babe I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”
She smirks up at you. “I know.”
“Oh fuck.” You drop your head to her shoulder, letting out a string of moaned profanities from the pleasure of being right on the edge of release. And then you're quickly cursing Jessie as she takes away her fingers, removing them completely from your waistband.
“What the hell?” your head snaps up to look at her.
“Get up.” She taps your thighs and you move off of her reluctantly wishing she would finish what she just started. You were also still pissed that she took away your orgasm.
“Take the rest off and join me in the bedroom.” She looks at you, her eyes are soft, pupils are big. She turns and disappears into your bedroom. You assumed she was putting down the waterproof blanket, her strap, and maybe a few other toys.
Wanting to get your orgasm, you quickly remove your clothing, too focused on getting off that you don’t care as much about being naked. You leave your pants, underwear, and bra on the couch with your discarded shirt. You make your way to Jessie, walking into the bedroom.
Jessie is sitting on the bed against the headboard, she was now just in her sports bra and boxers, legs spread out on the bed. You notice there isn’t a blanket on the bed, she didn’t have out any of the toys you shared. You then noticed the large mirror usually in the corner of your bedroom had been moved to the end of the bed.
“Sit.” She patted the spot between her legs, you obeyed, crawling onto the bed and kneeling between her thighs. You start to move to straddle her, just as you had been on the couch, when she stops you.
“Nope, turn around, back to me.” You turn yourself, you bare back pressing against Jessie’s covered chest. You now realize the placement of the mirror, so you could see the two of you from where you sat together on the bed, Jessie’s head resting just above your shoulder.
“Good girl.” As you get settled where she wanted you Jessie praises you. She uses her arms to uncross your own, removing them from where they hid your chest, pulling them down and placing your hands on her thighs. She then uses her own legs to hook around yours spreading your legs, leaving you completely exposed in front of the mirror. “Now before I help you finish what I started out there, we’re doing this.” She gestures to the mirror.
“Look at yourself.” You don’t follow that instruction. Keeping your eyes glued to the bed sheets, not wanting to see your naked body in the mirror. Jessie gives you a second to look up, when you don’t her hand is hard on your chin, forcing your face up. You close your eyes, “I said, look at yourself.” Her grasp is hard on your face, a grasp that is demanding and slightly harsh.
You do as she says, opening your eyes, only your eyes find her eyes in the mirror, still avoiding looking at your body.
“Babe, don’t make this harder than it should be.” Her whisper is gentle in your ear, a contrast to her harsh grip and tone from before. “Look at my hands if that’s easier.” She adds before she removes her grip from your chin placing her hands on your shoulders.
“See these babe?” She squeezes your shoulders, “I love your strong shoulders and arms, I love how they hold me tight, how they hold me when we dance in the kitchen, I love how they toss me on the bed before you have your way with me. I appreciate your arms everyday.” Her hands rub from your shoulders down to your hands and back up, you watch, keeping your eyes on her hands. Her lips place kisses on each shoulder. “Tell me one thing you love about your arms and shoulders, pretty girl.”
“Um,” your eyes fall for a minute, Jessie’s hand finds your chin, gently pushing it to remind you to look up. “I love that they get to hug you, after a goal when you come and jump into my arms, they get to hold you up.”
“Good job baby.” She turned her head down to you, gently guiding you to kiss her. “Keep being a good girl and you’ll get a reward.”
Her hands then slide down, finding your chest. “Mhhh” she hums as she grasps each of your tits firmly in her hand. Her actions have you letting out a small moan. “I mean I think it’s obvious why I love these, but I love how you react when I touch them, when I drag my tongue over here.” She lets her fingers drag across your nipples making you arch into her touch slightly. “I love how you let me fall asleep with my head on them, they really make the best pillows.” Her hands remain on your chest, she is playing with your nipples and the surrounding skin. “Your turn.” She tells you.
You’re stuck, your shoulders and arms were easy, you didn’t fully despise them, your chest, and frankly the rest of your body was going to be harder.
“I dunno.” You look down. Your hands moved down to start to pick at the skin on your thighs.
“Hey,” Jessie pulls your hands away from where they were picking. “I’ll keep going then. I love the way they look in your sports bra, I love the pretty little noises you make when I play with them, I love how you let me mark them with my mouth, I love-“
“Okay stop.” You gently chew your lip, looking at Jessie through the mirror, her gaze is strong on you. “I like how they look in that yellow top that you like so much.”
“That’s perfect baby.” She gives you a nod and kisses the side of your head.
Her hands trail down. Settling on your waist and stomach. You took a deep breath, eyes still looking at Jessie’s face.
“Look at my hands.” She tells you. You drop your eyes lower, looking at where her hands were spread on your own stomach.
“I love your stomach, your waist. I love being able to hold you tight around the waist, I love how your hips look when you tuck in your jersey,”
“I have stretch marks.” You interrupt her, you don’t mean to but the words just come out. You tense, expecting to get scolded by Jessie. Only she doesn’t scold you, she just calmly starts speaking again.
“Yeah baby, you do.” Her fingers gently drag over the lines you were so insecure about. “But guess what, so does everyone, you’re strong because of those marks, you grew, you’re an athlete, you push this body to the limit everyday. You’re making it stronger, faster, and sometimes that means your muscles grow faster than your skin can keep up, so you get these beautiful marks.”
Her hands slide down to the inside of your thighs where more stretch marks sat. They rest, sitting just above where you still desperately needed her touch.
“Look at these legs baby. So strong, they’re able to carry you running around for hours. You’re able to squat, jump, and run, because of these legs.” Her hand is now on the outside of your thigh. “These legs help carry me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch. These legs piggybacked Sam around for 45 minutes so she could say hi to fans after playing a whole 90’ minutes because she didn’t want to deal with her crutches, these legs score game winning goals.”
Her hands squeeze tight, reassuring but also nearing painful. “Now since we are talking about your strong, muscular, beautiful legs, you owe me something you love about your stomach and your legs.”
“I like that my legs let me play soccer and that they’ve let me travel all over and see incredible things.” You stop and stare at your stomach, looking for something good to say about it. “Um. I like my core because it makes me a better athlete, and it’s useful for other activities.” You give Jessie a knowing look through the mirror. It took you and Jessie only a couple times to learn how much core strength is required to be on the giving end of the strap on you shared.
“That’s perfect, you’ve been such a good girl.” Jessie’s voice suddenly deeper. “You did so well baby. Do you want your reward?”
You nod against her, still making eye contact through the mirror.
“What do you want, baby?” She brings her hands down on your thighs so that her index fingers are sitting in the crease between your thigh and pussy.
“Your fingers. Please.” You were ready for her to fuck you, having edged you just to make you sit for what felt like an hour, staring at yourself in the mirror.
“Of course my love.” She gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Anything for my perfect girl.”
Her hands move, her left moving a finger to your entrance, slowly running in up and down to collect some wetness before she gently pushes it inside of you. It’s only one finger but it feels good with how turned on you are from being edged.
“Add another please Jessie.” You manage to get out.
“Anything for you.” She pushed into you with two fingers thrusting them both gently, curling once they’re deep inside of you. Her right hand now settles with just her middle finger on your clit. Unlike before she starts slow, gently tracing around the bud.
Her mouth starts making its way down your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses along the side, it makes you sigh, you loved the feeling of her lips on your neck, it was always so sensitive, the way she would suck hard enough to feel it but soft enough not to leave a mark. The way Jessie would drag her teeth over your skin, biting you softly knowing you liked the pain. Her mouth on your neck was heaven.
With her mouth pleasuring your neck and her hands between your thighs, it wasn’t long until your legs were shaking and you were moaning Jessie’s name. Feeling yourself reach the edge again you throw your head back, shutting your eyes.
“Eyes open, watch yourself baby, watch yourself feel good.” Jessie’s shoulder nudges your head up. You listen, but instead of watching yourself you make intense eye contact with Jessie.
She removed her hand from your clit and stalls her fingers inside of you just as your legs start to try and close on her hands. You let out a high pitched whine.
“Do you love your body?” She stares at you through the mirror.
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“I love my body.”
“Look at yourself when you say it.” Her hand, previously pleasuring your clit, comes up to hold your chin again. You can smell your arousal on her finger tips. Your eyes leave hers and find yourself staring back at you. “Now, tell me you love yourself again.”
“I love my body.” Her hand drops from your chin.
“Again.”
“I love my body.” Her finger finds its way back to your clit, just touching it, not moving.
“Good girl, again.”
“I love my body.” She starts circling with her fingers, pleasure immediately flowing through you again.
“Again baby.”
“I love my body.” Now she’s gently thrusting her fingers again, no where near the force or speed that she had before but it was better then them sitting still inside of you.
“Good girl, one more and I’ll let you cum.”
“I love my body.”
“That’s my girl, you can cum, I promise I won’t tease you this time.” With her promise her fingers inside of you return their vigor from before, immediately feeling yourself clenching tightly around them. Her finger in your clit increases its pressure and you watch yourself fall apart in the mirror. You’re able to watch your orgasm start before the pleasure becomes too much and you have to shut your eyes and throw your head back.
Jessie praises you as she works you through your orgasm. Her words spur you on further, her lips hot against your ear. “That’s it pretty girl, so good, I love making you feel good. You look so pretty cumming around my fingers.”
As you come down from your orgasm you blink your eyes open, finding Jessie’s eyes in the mirror.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“What do you want? A bath? To cuddle? A nap?” Jessie was always attentive with aftercare even if you had vanilla sex, she always checked in, seeing what you needed and you’d return the favor.
“A bath would be nice.” Jessie nods and slides her legs off of yours, finally allowing you to close your legs. She moves off the bed, holding out a hand to you. You get off the bed with her assistance and walk into the bathroom together. Jessie starts running the bath, putting in your favorite lavender soap. She moved to get out a towel for you. When you notice she only grabs one towel you frown at her.
“What's wrong?”
“Can you join me?” You point to the bath, a pout on your face.
“Of course.” Jessie reaches back into the cabinet for another towel. She comes over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, holding you tight. “I love you, you’re perfect.” She whispers.
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sanakimohara · 5 months
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This is my second ever ask in my 10 years of having Tumblr so please let me know if I’m saying this wrong or if this is rude 😅 but please could you do a felix or chan incredibly insanely darkly jealous a lot of breeding kink and rutting and c8ck dumb reader 😮‍💨😅😅 pretty please
“UNDER THE INFLUENCE” L. F.
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Awe well I am honored to be your second ask here on tumble. I think I'll take Felix on this one...give him a bit more love in my post stream..
{ MDNI }
+++++++
Today was not supposed to end like this. You had no intention of being in a room alone with him -especially while you both were ‘working’- but here you are. Trembling and writhing as Felix had his fill of you.
It was a miracle that your makeup wasn’t smudged; thankfully, your hair wasn’t too messed up from its original wet and wavy look. No matter how many times Felix ran his fingers through it or if you pressed your head against the thin walls as shrouds of ecstasy hit you, it stayed modestly neat.
One less giveaway of what the two of you were getting up to in his dressing room.
“Felix…F-Felix th-that’s enough….Ahm!” You groan as quietly as possible, trying hard to not let anyone outside the room hear how amazing it feels to have your cunt devoured like there was no tomorrow. The blonde completely ignored your demand, swirling his tongue in quicker circles around your clit before delving into your dripping entrance.
He’d been at it for the past ten minutes at least, never letting you pull your hips away from his oddly rough grip, keeping your legs wide open as you sat on the -previously organized- makeup vanity. You felt terrible about doing such inappropriate things with a man you swore you’d never met all day.
All fucking day.
You’d refused to admit that Felix was your significant other to make the photo shoot between you and a male model less awkward. A small sacrifice you were both used to driving to keep your relationship concealed and stable, but for one reason or another, Felix felt a simmering rage when he heard you deny your ties to them.
He hated it so much that he’d been less approachable and friendly for the better part of the day.
The staff noticed Felix’s change, whispering about how on edge he was on and off camera-cordial to everyone like always- but noticeably annoyed. You’d seen it too, very concerned he wasn’t feeling well and convinced just checking on him during the staff hour-long lunch break wouldn’t do any harm to anyone.
Everyone except you.
Felix was not above taking his growing frustrations out on you. The instant you shut his dressing room door, he’d covered you, hands preemptively inching the bodice of your silk skirt to touch your bare skin underneath as he placed one fiery kiss on your lips after another. “Stop letting him touch what’s mine, angel,” he whispers into your parted lips, drinking in the immediate whimpers you let out in return.
“You can’t be serious, Lix. More than half of the shoot requires us to “
He rolled his eyes, smirking in disbelief at your attempt to reason with him, “Does it look like I fucking care. Either keep his hands off you, or I’ll ensure it myself.” The rare sight of anger adorned Felix’s gentle features, voice a rumbling whisper, and the combination propelled you into subspace within seconds. He was never this openly possessive. He’d pout or sulk if you didn’t give him attention occasionally, but this…
This was new.
It made you nervous under his gaze, rendering you speechless as he hugged you close, lips reconnecting to your own in another sequence of tender kisses as he walked you backward into the vanity. Your exposed back hit the mirror with a soft ‘thud’ and you flinched away from it. Felix brought you close to him, letting his warmth resolve your shivering and trailing his hands over the intricate details of your artistic bralette.
You pulled away, smiling proudly as Felix took a moment to admire your decorated breasts, eyes darkening with desire as you leaned back with a knowing smile on your face. “Like what you see, Liz?” You tease him, giggling softly as you turn your head to look at him through the reflection. He nods slowly, tongue poking one of his cheeks as he snakes an arm around your waist, closing the tiny gap between you two and effectively spreading your legs to frame his waist.
“You know I do, angel. Always will…” he mutters adoringly, placing a trail of heated kisses along your neck, shoulder, and finally, the curve of your breasts. He groaned in displeasure as he realized the material was intricately clasped, making it a hassle to remove and one less place on your body for him to play with.
Felix solves the dilemma quickly, licking a long stripe over each one before nipping at your skin until barely visible bruises are raised on your skin. Your face burned hot, lust seeping to panic as he marked what he knew to be his, and though it felt amazing, you knew he was inching you both towards exposure.
“Lix, please don’t…they’ll see those…mm,” you bit back a moan as he made another affliction, purposefully making it noticeable. You flinched against him, hands flying to claw into his shoulders, “That’s enough…” you moaned into his ear. The demand lost its edge as it slipped off your tongue, concern becoming a blur as Felix tangled a hand in your hair, pulling it so you had no choice but to let him stain your skin with as many love bites as he pleased.
Your brows knitted together as each one became more intense than the last, the arm around your waist holding you flush against him, adding to the mind-numbing pleasure he was inducing.
You tried one last time to reason with him, stuck in thralls of heat and logical thinking, “Felix…th-“
He cut you off immediately, devoid of any sympathy for your plight, and his authoritative tone made that abundantly clear.
“I don’t care,” he retorts, and you whine in response, “..But I do.”
Felix laughed dryly, inwardly amused by your signature pout but unsympathetic with your reasoning. “You shouldn’t,” he replies softly, bringing his hands to caress your face. You stared up at him lovingly, leering into his touch as he pecked your lips, the subtle hums of approval thundering in his chest, building the pool of heat in your core.
“I know, Lix….” You murmur into the kiss, feeling his hands drop to your thighs, giving them light-handed squeezes. You subconsciously roll your hips to get his touch closer to your dripping cunt. He smiles against your lips, chuckling at your eagerness and immediately giving in to you.
“Desperate little angel, aren’t we?” He teased you, discreetly slipping the many rings off his fingers as you nodded your head and let out a breathless “mhm” in response. Felix shifted your silky skirt to the side, draping the fabric off of your legs as he cupped your mound with one hand. He bit his plush bottom lip as your hips bucked into his hold. A sheer thong was the only thing keeping your soaked folds away from him, and he remedied the obstacle by pulling it to the side.
“Fuck…” you hiss as the cool air hits your exposed cunt, slick going ice cold as Felix prodded to skilled fingers past your entrance. “It’s a miracle you don’t have cum running down your leg, love. It must be so hard walking around this wet for me, yeah?” His voice carried so much weight, doubling down on your own pleasure as he fingered you at the slowest pace possible.
You were at a loss for words, thoughts, or any coherent reaction as he curled his fingers forward to hit your sweet spot. Felix wanted a verbal answer, not just the satisfying gratification your moans brought him, “Need to hear you, angel..or I’ll stop.” You shake your head in displeasure, blushing heavily as you rush a reply, words slurring into excited whimpers.
“Y-yes…s-Ahm….fuck Lix…y-yes you’re right….”
“Good girl…” he whispers, pumping his fingers faster and pressing your clit with the pad of his thumb. You yelp quietly, whining curses as a familiar tightening ramped up in your stomach, and you clenched around his fingers as a result.
Felix groaned vicariously, smirking wildly before withdrawing his hand. “N-no! Lix, please!” You nearly shout in agony at the loss of fullness, ready to cry as he drops to his knees, faking a frown as he comes face to face with your glittering core. “You’re being awfully loud for someone who doesn’t want to get caught, love.” His warm breath fans the slick entrance as he speaks, putting you in a daze that intensifies when he flicks his tongue against you.
“Don’t care anymore…jus’ wanna cum,” you mewl as he focuses on the task at hand, finding the rhythm to taste you with his tongue perfectly and urging you to cum in his mouth with every deliberate action.
His blonde hair tickled your thighs, low moans sending vibrations through you in waves and heightening the toll your climax took on you.
Felix refused to stop until your cunt was all he’d be able to savor for the rest of the day. You nearly fell forward on him in a state of elated exhaustion as he stood back up and kissed you deeply. Your eyes slid shut as the creaminess of your release and his spit seeped down your throat, a wanton moan spilling from you both as his tongue danced with yours, and your hands traveled up to grip his hair.
“Careful…” he grunts, the sound giving way to an altered whine. You pull the blonde strands harder, lips connecting to his jawline and making your own mark on his tan skin. He reaches for his belt, glad his outfit wasn’t nearly as complicated as your own, and a sigh of relief comes out as a sharp exhale through his nose the moment his cock springs free.
You smile against his skin, eyes trailing down to get a view of it, “You’re such a hypocrite,” you taunt him. Amused to see how affected Felix was by the mere thought of another man laying his hands on you.
He groans, muttering a semblance of disagreeable words before shoving you back with gentle force. The conjoined feeling of the cold mirror hitting your heated skin and the instantaneous contact of his throbbing shaft gliding up and down your glittery folds has your back arching as ripples of pleasure course through you.
Felix drops his head to the crook of your neck, a few strands of his hair ghosting your skin as he places featherlight kisses. “Lix..” you mumble lowly, unable to think straight as he breathes in your scent, his hands grazing down your spine as he does.
“Promise me he won’t touch you again,” he whispers in your ear, his hips pausing, the tip of his cock inching into you ever so slightly. You whined loudly, head lulling back as your brows furrowed in frustration, one hand slipping from his tousled hair to clasp around his throat. Every breath he took raised his Adam’s apple, your thumb gingerly baring down the muscle as you shook your head slowly.
“I can’t..please don’t make me,” you plead for a compromise, but Felix disregards the refusal, pushing into your cunt inch by inch, torturing the both of you with the long-awaited security your fluttering walls would impose on him. “Yes, yes you can…you will. Promise me, sweetheart. Open your pretty mouth and swear to me that you’re all mine..” Felix shifted between pleading and demanding, eyes flickering from your expression of pure ecstasy as he sunk all the way into you to the space where you two connected.
A train of thought no longer existed for you as he pulled out slowly, slamming back so harshly that the vanity quivered from the subtle force. Your mouth fell open, eyes rolling in earnest bewilderment the rougher Felix got. “Fucking answer me…,” he groans, burying his cock in you, and refusing to move until you stuttered out a response.
Work be dammed. Telling some random guy to keep his hands to himself for the next few hours paled in comparison to your need to cum….and was honestly a task you’d do whether Felix was coercing it out of you or not.
So, as much as you cared for professionalism…it’d have to take a backseat to whatever emotion he was dragging you into now.
“I. I promise it won’t happen again…I promise, Lix…” You didn’t care how pathetic you sounded, past the point of modesty and clinging to Felix for dear life as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. Your chest pressed into his, the intricate details on your bra chilling his burning skin and prompting him to hold you there with an arm snaking around your waist.
He fisted the sheer material of your skirt, almost ripping through it as he tugged it higher, nails digging into your skin possessively, and you winced in pain as he brought his lips to your ear again. “Hm, does it hurt, angel?” He asks, feigning concern, and the contrast of the sweet gesture amid brutality made your head spin endlessly. “Y-yes,” you huffed as a moan built in your throat, quickly slipping out as he shifted one of your legs up and around his lean waist. The adjusted angle drew a surprised cry from you, cunt gripping every ride and vein of his cock as he took advantage of the position. He was bruising your sweet spot with an intensity and speed you’d never experienced before.
Felix was generally endearingly romantic and rarely this aggressive with you. Seeing, well, witnessing this side of his character was an edge for you on its own.
You were surprised that you managed to hold out this long without cumming and even more taken aback by the steady stream of arousal pooling on the vanity beneath you. Felix noticed it too, cock twitching inside you as pride flooded his system, “You’re making such a mess, pretty girl… does it feel that good?” He grinned triumphantly when you nodded without hesitation, hips rolling to meet his thrusts at an even pace for as long as possible.
“Gorgeous, so…fucking gorgeous..” he praises your every reaction, running a hand down the expanse of your torso, stopping to press down where you could feel his cock the most. You blushed as the applied pressure emphasized exactly where Felix was inside you.
The coil in your core teetered on the verge of snapping, your hands disappearing underneath the hem of his designer dress shirt, and your manicured nails scratched into his toned torso. The simple action caused Felix to buck his hips and wrap his free hand in your hair as he brought you into an open-mouthed kiss. It was sloppy, void of any decency, as the both of you chased your high at the expense of the other.
You clawed at his skin, moaning louder as the knot in your stomach begged to loosen for the third time in a row. He stared into your dreamy gaze, reading the warning in them as he held your head close to his.
Felix wanted nothing more than to etch this very moment into your mind for the rest of the day -your life. The thought of you walking around, filled to the brim with his cum as you posed for one picture after the next plagued his conscious, and undid the last link of reason for him.
“Fuck this,” he snapped, brows furrowing with determination as he pulled out of you, and slid you off the vanity to bend you forward on it instead. Thankfully, you caught yourself in time, too dazed to stop him from kicking your legs apart, and reentering you from behind. “Felix…” you groan exasperatedly, shuddering as his cock stretched your cunt with ease, causing a thin drip arousal to slide down your inner thighs.
The blonde leaned over you, a hand resting on the curve of your back as he returned to his pace from earlier. Sweat starts to build on his tan skin, a concentrated expression adorning his angelic features as he pounded into you.
Blank.
Your mind was entirely blank the longer he bullied his cock against your sensitive womb and the tension mounting in your body multiples exponentially as he lowered himself to speak in your ear lowly.
“This is where you belong, angel. Just like this, with me, an no one else understand?”
You nodded weakly, fighting back tears as the urge to cum from the sound of his voice tempted you.
It’d only take one more possessive word from him -paired with that salacious smile on his face- to unravel you. Felix was at his end, too, eyes sliding close as the precision of his thirst became a tenuous blur.
“You think he’d use you this well, love?” He slurs the question, unintentionally pulling your hair as he snaps his hips harder. “No…”you sigh deliriously, reaching a hand to run through his hair and bring him in for a heated kiss, while the other latched against the mirror to hold you steady under his weight as the knot in your core spiraled loose.
“That’s it….angel, fuck, you feel so good…” Felix doesn’t even try to be discreet, zoned in on the way your cunt gushes on his cock, greedily taking the hot ropes of cum he releases. Oxygen alludes to you for a few seconds, an overbearing heat rushing through you and your body quivering in the aftershock.
You looked divine. Unreal even. That pleased smile on your lips as you giggled shamelessly only added to the glow you emitted in your shared highs.
“He won’t touch me again, Lix..” you panted softly, smiling more expansive as you clung to him tiredly and laid your head on his shoulder.
He understood then. Why he’d felt so stricken with jealousy over you the whole day. Yes, he loved you, but the underlying notion that no one else knew it angered him.
What good would it do him not to try and claim you, at least? If fucking you into the bliss of oblivion was what needed to be done….he could make that sacrifice.
Felix kissed the top of your head, grinning as you whined defeatedly as he shifted his hips to settle his cock further into you, “See, that wasn’t so hard to agree to, now was it, love?”
You pout, raising your head to glare at him playfully, “No….but now the stylists will have to cover me in two layers of foundation!”
Felix raised a brow, gently rolling his hips into again, and you melted underneath him at the overstimulation. “Who said we were done, angel?” He asks, smiling at your fucked out reflection shifting to a look of desperation. You opened your mouth to say something but the words died in your throat, replaced by a broken moan as he gradually pumped his length past your tender walls, spreading his cum over them, and edging you both to another round.
This was not how your day was supposed to go, but there was no fight left in you, and certainly not enough left to refuse being stuffed full with Felix’s cum for the next thirty minutes.
Felix chuckled at the sight of you accepting your fate, subconsciously rocking your hips back to meet his, and welcoming the oncoming warmth of his accumulating releases.
Maybe making him jealous could be your new favorite hobby….
++++++++
This one was fun. I'm kind of proud of how it came out too....my editing is getting better hehe.
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
Credits to owner 🖤 FYI if I met him and he made a joke I’d start laughing the same way zendaya was cracking up everytime Tom holland opened his mouth….i mean how else am I gonna convince Felix he’s my soulmate lmao 🖤
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I kinda hate myself for asking this but can I get more of Your Personal Ghost?? Maybe a part two or just more of him in general??
.⋆。Your Bandit。⋆.
Brahms Heelshire x plus size reader
With the disappearance of all of your panties, some new information comes to light that isn’t as unwelcome as you thought it would be
Warnings: panty stealing, fluff, swearing, writer!reader WC: 1k
Minors DNI
Part 1
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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“I swear I just did laundry.” You muttered, frustrated as you stared down at your mostly empty underwear drawer. Your panties had been disappearing at quite an alarming rate but they always ended up in your laundry hamper even if you couldn’t quite remember if you ever even wore them.
You sighed and slammed the drawer shut. Dressed only in an oversized t-shirt, you stomped your way down to the laundry room in some deluded idea that maybe the washer had somehow eaten your underwear. 
The small room in the basement of the house echoed with your aggravated curses as you dug through not only the washing machine but also the dryer and the linen closet in the corner. But nope- no panties, dirty or otherwise. 
“I give up!” You threw your hands into the air. “Whatever ghost is in this stupid fucking house, stop taking my fucking underwear! I need that shit!” You received no reply back except the house groaning as it settled. “I hate this place.”
Fishing a pair of leggings from the dryer, you tugged them on angrily as you muttered to yourself under your breath. “I’m gonna blow all my savings on fucking panties and ya know what, they’ll just go missing again. This is such bullshit.” Stomping away from the laundry room, you were dead-set on restoring your supply of undergarments and keeping it that way. No pervy ghost would get the better of you.
The wall by the front door creaked ominously as you stuffed your feet into the worn sneakers you couldn’t seem to part from. You didn’t even bother to address your haunted mansion, only stepping into the brisk morning and slamming the door shut behind you. It would be a long drive to the shops but it would give you time to plan your revenge.
——————
Your anger had dissolved to almost nothing by the time you pulled back into the driveway, getting home a lot later than you expected. It was stupid to think that the house was haunted; it was old, sure and a questionable history, no doubt. But haunted? That was idiotic at best. Yeah, you heard the ghost stories and still couldn’t find it in yourself to take down any of the creepy family portraits scattered around the eerie hallways. You were just lonely and in desperate need of some inspiration for your stagnating writing.
Your sigh was carried off on the breeze as you stepped from your car. The heat still emanating from the engine gave you a brief respite from the cold while you gathered yourself. “I’m losing my fucking mind.” The plastic bag stuffed full of brand new panties crinkled as you pulled it from the back seat, along with a well-deserved (in your opinion) bag of Chinese food from the only takeaway shop in a 50 mile radius. 
Too lost in your own head, you didn’t notice the light on in one of the empty bedrooms and the dark silhouette against the thick glass of the window. Maybe if you had, you would’ve thought better than to call out into the house as you took off your shoes. “Honey! I’m home!” 
You chuckled to yourself at your little joke, completely oblivious to the barely audible footsteps above you. The bag of panties landed with a soft thud at the foot of the stairs as you passed by it, a gentle reminder to bring them upstairs once you had your fill of bland food and plenty of wine. 
The huge shadow that darted behind the wall followed after you, far closer than it normally was though, as usual, you were ignorant to its presence. You hummed under your breath as you laid out your feast on the kitchen table. The food was now only lukewarm though you didn’t mind, the cheap bottle of red sitting in the pantry would warm you up plenty.
You pulled the cork from the bottle stem with a satisfying pop, too occupied by your task to see the large painting of a landscape lift itself from its place on the wall. The squeak of the Styrofoam covered the creak of the floorboards as a heavy weight settled on them. 
Just as you pulled out a kitchen chair, you heard heavy breathing over your shoulder.
“Welcome home.” The voice that rang out through the room was a strange mixture of that of a young boy and a grown man. Your entire body froze as fear shot through your veins. The house settled into silence as your gaze creeped to where the voice had come from.
Standing in front of a man-sized hole in the wall was a veritable giant. He loomed over you, even at a distance, his body wide with sinewy muscle that was barely covered by the large cardigan he wore. Greasy black curls hung down over his face or rather what should have been his face. The orange glow of the kitchen lights bounced off the cracked white porcelain, making his dark brown eyes stand out as they shone with anxiety.
“I’ve been waiting for you, I missed you.” His paw-like hands clasped together in front of him, his fingers nervously intertwining as he waited for you to do something, anything.
Your lips parted and there was only one thing you could think of to say. “You took my underwear.” His whole body curled in on itself as he cringed like a little kid when they would get in trouble. His head bobbed. “How- how long have you been here?”
“My whole life.” He answered. His huge shoulders dropped as he lowered his head, looking at you through his eyelashes. 
“Holy shit, you’re Brahms.” The boy who supposedly died in a fire in this very house almost 20 years ago. Suddenly you knew why you got this house for so fucking cheap. “And you’ve been watching me?” His nod was slow, almost as if he were ashamed. 
“You’re nice.” He simpered.
“Oh fuck,” You whined, “This is a great idea for a book. C’mon get some food, I suppose that neither of us are going anywhere for a while.” He lumbered over, his eyes still wary but the slight pink tint that you could see spreading down his neck told you just how pleased he was with this development.
“Were you the one deleting my writing?” Brahms’s breath hitched and before you could blink, he grabbed a box of fried rice and scurried back into the hole in the wall.
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scrupulosity-comics · 10 months
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your comics are lovely because so much of the discussion around certain ocd obsessions (on the internet and elsewhere) seem so fucking unnuanced, lol
Idk. Sorry if this is intrusive. But yeah I also struggle with scrupulosity+ harm ocd and I sometimes get really fed up with people insisting on simple answers (if you’re doubting it you’re probably a good person/ just live with the uncertainty) without recognizing that sometimes you *have* to have a method of at least estimating your impact on other people and if your brain is hell bent on confusing your capacity to notice actual impact with its bizarre overestimations it can make living on the world really hard, lol
I guess with time I’ve managed to find ways that make sense to me to simultaneously keep myself with some kind of moral framework while also not being too rigid and accepting partial uncertainty, but I feel like philosophy and talking with friends who *don’t* know the Correct Advice For People With OCD helped me a lot more than standard psychiatric advice, lol
Anyway. Thank you for sharing your experiences. Extremely relatable and funny
Also, imho, adding complexity to perspectives tends to be better to the world than subtracting it, lol
God yeah I do Not find most OCD support or advice helpful or relatable. I know several people who’ve had really good experiences with ERP therapy but my therapist and I found it nearly impossible to come up with socially and psychologically safe ways to start exposure response prevention. She had me write “I am committing micro-aggressions” on a card—I still joke about it.
Obviously I’m glad that some people are helped by the simplistic stuff. I just find it frustrating when people expect them to also help me reason with obsessions and compulsions that are inherently politicized or interpersonal. A lot of people are upset by racism but still do or believe or say racist things! People apply compassion and empathy towards societal evils all the time! I have acted on impulses I regret before!
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holy-puckslibrary · 4 months
Text
━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.
main masterlist
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pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?
note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)
and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️
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specific content warnings under the cut.
cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz
“—stop getting in my way.”
"or what?"
silence.
then, an exasperated groan.
“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”
the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.
your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.
“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”
jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.
a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.
only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.
trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.
he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.
but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.
“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.
the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.
said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”
eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.
two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.
(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)
mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.
what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.
momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.
no bells and whistles, just diligence.
soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.
trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.
mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.
with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.
from trevor.
with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.
mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.
it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.
“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”
“—m’sorry,” you whimper.
his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”
your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.
“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”
a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.
trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."
"no—only want y-you."
it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.
your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.
“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."
in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.
“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."
his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.
...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.
not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.
you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.
trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.
they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.
you surrender.
and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.
the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.
—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.
you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.
sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.
trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.
he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."
giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.
mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.
you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.
naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.
trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."
your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.
"—not you, silly bunny. them."
aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.
"you're joking."
"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."
you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.
watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.
their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.
trevor always knows what you need.
when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.
it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.
on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.
jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."
a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.
"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"
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plutonianeris · 4 months
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❝mars in the 6th house❞
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This is how mars in the 6th house has manifested for me.
With my 6th house mars placement I tend to make my daily activities into games or challenges. In my head I’m always like okay let’s see how long it takes me to do xyz. It makes me feel accomplished to get stuff down.
The downside to all of that is the stress I put on my body. Sometimes I don’t know when to stop and I keep pushing through until I feel burned out. Over the years I have gotten better and reminding myself to slow down and be more mindful throughout out the day.
I have always had very high paced busy jobs. The couple times where I had a more low stakes, relaxed job I would start off thinking I was going to enjoy it and then I would hate it. It would just make the day drag on so long. I like feeling challenged and when I am busy the day goes by faster. When I was around 15 I got my first job at a restaurant and it would get extremely busy and chaotic as fuck and honestly I loved it. The dining room would get so full, people were chattering all the time and we would all be in the back running around like chickens with their heads cut off, bumping into each other. Some of my coworkers would get frustrated which is fair but honestly it felt like a game to me. I worked there until I was 19. I have a higher paying, more “professional” job now but to this day that was the most fun job I’ve had.
I have worked at many different places, but the posts that state mars in the 6th house will give you coworkers being jealous and trying to start shit are 100% right. In every job I have had there were coworkers that saw me as threat or would try to start shit with me. I once worked at a hospital when I was in college and the girls working with me (Who were 2-3 years actually older than me) were so hateful and weird. They would constantly be looking at me, gossiping (or straight up trying to argue) and one time one of them lied to the supervisor saying I was slacking off when I wasn’t (literally trying to sabotage my job).
A male coworker there at the time told me they were just hating. I do believe that they were because they were being weird and messy but I also think he was trying to flirt with me..
The rumors are true about your coworkers crushing on you with this placement. And vice versa for me as well at times. It has gone from flirting with coworkers to me actually sleeping with a coworker once. However those times it was never anything serious, more like in the moment things. 6th house placements really know what it means to have a work husband/ wife lol.
another thing about jobs, when people try to start shit it use to get me riled up and I would let people get under my skin (when I was younger). NOW, I laugh and even though it still makes me annoyed, it makes me feel even more motivated to be the best at what I am doing.
I am also quick to leave a job once it has run its course. I am not that emotional when it comes to leaving and starting over somewhere else.
I lose weight very fast. I don’t mean in the sense that I have high metabolism. I mean that if gain weight and I decide I want to lose it, I do simple workouts and in a relatively short time its gone. Its not an unhealthy or harmful way. It makes sense considering mars is action and speed and the 6th house is daily routines and my body and health. Honestly if you have this placement and you are stressing over meal plans or planning specific workouts, just do simple ones and walk more and it wont be as hard as you thought.
I do have a high libido, especially when I am in a relationship. Having a healthy and satisfying sexual relationship is important to me.
I don’t get sick very often and when I do, I fight it off in 1-3 days.
I can be very impulsive in my daily and routines, sometimes harshly. Like I might brush my hair very roughly without realizing or apply lotion onto my skin in a heedless manner. That is something that I did not like and I try to remind myself to treat my body with gentle hands.
My impulsive behavior was worse when I was kid. For example, if I could not get a necklace off of me or bracelet, it would make me so angry and kind of panicked, I would rip it off even if it meant it might break I didn’t care. Me doing what I wanted and feeling free mattered more than whatever I was wearing. This was however another thing I tried to improve on.
Growing up, in my daily routines people use to be mad aggressive towards me as well. Don’t get me wrong, I knew when I was annoying or pushing someones buttons, but the random spurts of anger at me would be very unwarranted.
I feel like at times I can be very guarded as well or tense. When I am angry, I feel it first in my chest and then my stomach will hurt. I don’t like getting worked up because although I can emotionally regulate, it still takes my body a while to calm down. When I was a teenager it would take a long ass time of me practically seething or cursing. Now after a couple deep breaths I’m good.
Mars is aggressive and the 6th house is my health and body and I have definitely taken my anger out on myself as well. My home life had always been very chaotic as a kid and I started self harming at 12 years old and then I stopped when I was around 17 years old.
On a more positive note, I love taking care of my body now. I would never treat it like my enemy or be so careless with myself like I use to. I like working out. I like feeling strong. And also theres a bonus of feeling hot as fuck when I am naked. When Megan thee stallion said, “ When I'm in the gym I think about bitches that I'm shitting on,” I really felt that 💋🔥
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ghcstao3 · 5 months
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(part 1)
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As more days pass, the job doesn’t get any less strange.
Johnny is still poring over Ghost’s hint, trying to figure out how it could be possible that all these varying pieces are from the same artist. Unless it was someone more contemporary, experimenting in art styles of different eras—
Which would make sense, if not for the paints and materials not available in the present day, their methodology in creation having been lost to time, or its dangers realized.
And the signature. Scribbled consistently on every one of the pieces in the exact same place, exact same handwriting, even when the initials of S and R shift from the Roman to Latin alphabet, and when the length of the name itself shrinks and grows.
About every theory that pops into Johnny’s head is easily dismissed for another that makes slightly more sense, until he reaches another road block in reasoning. It’s impossible, plain and simple.
But at the end of the day, Johnny has to shake his head of those sorts of thoughts anyway. Because he’s here for a job, not to speculate, even when it’s his current employer that’s planted this dilemma in his head.
Speaking of—Ghost hasn’t gotten any less weird himself, either. Or, perhaps enigmatic, Johnny should say.
He continues to pose questions to Johnny as he works, but at some point they begin to sound less like questions from the owner of the artwork—and more like questions from the artist, as if seeking feedback.
All Johnny can do is answer honestly. He’s gotten better at deciphering Ghost’s hums and huffs and grunts, but not to the extent of really understanding what he’s thinking. Which only serves to confuse Johnny further about the whole… arrangement.
It’s on the last day, while Johnny is finishing up the last piece, that Ghost asks him the strangest thing of all.
“Say you were… immortal,” Ghost begins slowly, sometime nearing the end of the day; the end of Johnny’s contract, “would you choose to make a mark on the world, or remain invisible?”
Johnny furrows his brow. “I’m not sure. I mean—really, unless you’re big and famous, you kind of remain invisible to most, anyway.”
Ghost shakes his head, seeming almost frustrated by his answer—which would be a first. “No, not like—like if you made art, would you choose to keep it hidden, or would you allow it to be shared?”
It’s the first time Johnny has ever heard Ghost seem unsure of himself. He’s never seen the man falter like this, wavering in this intimidating, indifferent persona he’s thus far created.
Johnny suspects that there’s more to this question than it simply being a hypothetical.
“Depends,” Johnny says. He blinks up at Ghost, staring undeterred into that intense gaze of his. Sometimes Johnny thinks Ghost expects him to be nervous in his employer’s presence. “If it’s something personal, then sure, I’d keep it to myself. But I think in creating art, there’s also times that you’d want to display it, so I would. Not necessarily to leave something behind, but… maybe to inspire someone else.”
Ghost considers this for a long while, eyes raking over Johnny’s face for who knows what. Maybe a discrepancy in his honesty.
Eventually, he breathes slow and deep as he squares back his shoulders. “Then I’ll ask this again:” He pauses. “What do you think happened to the artist?”
The corners of Johnny’s lips twitch upward, though a proper smile never appears.
“I think he’s giving himself away right about now,” Johnny decides. It hasn’t really clicked to him, of course, that Ghost might be immortal—but it’s a conclusion he can at least speak aloud.
Ghost squints his eyes, and Johnny is inclined to think that means there’s a smile hiding beneath his mask.
“Suppose I have,” Ghost admits. Almost sheepishly, he then asks, “Does that change your answer?”
Johnny shakes his head. “I still think these should be displayed, if you’re willing. They’re… they’re beautiful pieces, and… why should you hire me to restore them just to keep them in storage?”
Ghost shrugs, and there reappears that new uncertainty. “I wanted a second opinion.”
Johnny laughs, shaking his head again. “Next you’re going to tell me you destroyed these yourself just to get it.”
Ghost stares at him a long, silent moment after that. Johnny’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline with the very clear answer to that joke.
“…Ghost.”
“It’s Simon,” Ghost corrects. “And I may have… tampered… with them. Just a little.”
Johnny scoffs. “Ghost, Simon, whatever. Some of these materials have been lost to time! And you just… you just—“
A deep, rumbling laugh escapes Ghost—Simon—that has Johnny trailing off from the rant he’d just been ready to go on. Art history is so meaningful to him, and he has a living man who can attest to those times in front of him, and—
And Johnny was just insulting him.
He shrinks back as Simon’s laughing tapers off, and that cold look in his eyes is overtaken by something warm, something friendly.
“Those pieces never meant enough to me,” Simon finally says, something melancholy falling over his tone. “But… I do have one more that was actually ruined by time that I think… I think I’d trust you enough to fix.”
Johnny’s eyes widen, perking up at the suggestion. “Really?”
Simon nods. “I’ll pay you however much, I—“
“No need,” Johnny interrupts. “You’ve already paid me… far more than you needed to, for the rest. I’ll do it, on one condition.”
Simon cocks his head, silently willing Johnny on.
The smile threatening Johnny finally releases, spreading wide across his face.
“You let me ask questions,” Johnny says. “I have a few debates to settle.”
Simon hums. Something… approving.
Finally, he says with an air of humour, and something oddly akin to hope, “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
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queuestarter · 5 months
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(finnick odair x reader)
cw: explicit language, mentions of prostitution, angst
link to the request → reader and finnick get into an argument
open to submissions/asks !!
You watch the television with blood shot eyes. You’ve been staring blankly at the screen since President Snow announced the Quarter Quell.
You’re not sure how long it’s been- maybe six hours? All you know is that Caesar isn’t on the screen anymore, which is a shame.
You kind of like Caesar.
“Can you acknowledge me now? Or do you need to stare at the screen some more?” You hear Finnick ask you from where he stands in the doorway.
You didn’t realize he had come back home.
Your eyes snap away from the television to him. He looks disheveled. His hair is a mess and his eyes are red but not from overuse like yours are. You can see the lines going down his cheeks from where tears have dried.
“I didn’t realize you were going to come back so soon. Thought you would want to spend the rest of the day with Annie.” The words come out snarky, which you don’t intend for. You’re just stressed out and it seems that now is the perfect time for all of your pent up frustrations to make their way out.
“Oh, of course, bring her up,” he scoffs. “At least she can admit that she needs me around.”
You clench your fists in your lap, true anger forming. “And what does that mean?”
He lets out a deep breath through his nose. “I’m just saying that maybe my time today was better spent comforting someone who actually needed it.”
“I didn’t need your comfort?” You scream, standing to your feet. “I didn’t need you when my entire life just got turned upside down again? You know, Finnick, sometimes it would be nice to  have my own boyfriend here!”
“What was I supposed to do for you when you get in your own head and refuse to speak to me? Sit there and stare at Caesar fucking Flickerman smiling on the television for the entire day like you want to do? No- I’m going to go comfort my best friend when she needs me!”
It’s your turn to scoff. “Have you ever considered the fact that maybe the reason why I don’t ask for comfort from you is because I’ve learned not to expect it? You spend all your time in the Capitol, these days. Forgive me for leaning on myself.”
Finnick stalks closer towards you but you refuse to back down. This fight has clearly been a long time coming and you want to hash it out, now, before the tensions get any worse.
“You can’t blame me for being in the Capitol. You know why I’m there,” he hisses, poison lacing each word. 
You laugh. You actually laugh at that. “I’m not blaming you, Finnick, I’m just sick of this. In case you forgot, I also experience the same shit that you do. But at least I actually come home at the end of the day.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “So what does this mean for us?”
You blink. Your fists unclench. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Part of me feels like maybe this relationship has run its course but I still love you more than words can describe.”
He reaches out and grabs your hands, running his fingers over your knuckles. “I love you too.”
“We need to get our shit together,” you laugh without any amusement, tears suddenly welling up in your eyes. You’re not really angry anymore, just upset.
“We do,” he agrees.
“I don’t want to go into the Quell with this looming over me, I just want us back,” you continue on.
His grip on your fingers tightens. “You’re not going into the Quell.”
You can’t help but laugh in his face. “Don’t be stupid, Finn. It’s either Annie, Mags, or me and you have to know neither of them would have any chance of making it.”
“Don’t say that. You’re not going back in. What if I get reaped, too? I can’t watch you die,” his voice breaks.
“There’s so many other men here who have a chance to get picked,” you whisper, gripping his hand back just as tightly. “Besides, Annie’s gonna need someone to keep her sane.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he whispers back, fresh tears pooling under his eyes.
“We’ll get through it. Let’s just… let’s just promise to never let things get this bad again.”
He kisses your forehead before smothering you in a hug. “I promise.”
-
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chimcess · 2 months
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Waterlog || pjm (3)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 12.2k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: toxic relationship (not reader and jimin), arguments, cheating (not reader and jimin), talks about previous child abuse, anxiety attack, strong language, crying, emotional abuse (not reader and jimin), talks of bad parental relationships, abandonment issues, some PTSD, prescription medication use, mentions of depression and mental health, lots of angst in this one, finally making some progress though, age insecurity, mutual pining, lots of side character development in this one, they really are so sweet together, jimin just being the nicest boy in the world, so much PDA, physical touch is his love language 👀👀👀, writing this is so comforting even when its angsty lol, i think that's it, let me know if I missed something A/N: Hello hello. Probably my favorite chapter to date. Bad news is that I think this series might be a little longer than originally intended. My inability to just get to the point has things moving a little slow, but I'm trying my best. We'll have to see, though! Hope you enjoy reading :)
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Time went by quickly. Wednesday and Friday morning, Jimin and I met up to train for a few hours and then got breakfast together. When he asked if I wanted to work out with him in the evenings, I agreed. In the beginning, I had given him pointers, but after the second week came to a close, we had started exercising in silence. We spotted one another, made small talk, and went to dinner on the nights he did not go home to be with his parents. We got along and I was happy my overwhelming attraction to him had slowly calmed down.
I was still aware of his presence, the way he smelled, and how often he smiled and laughed, but I had grown used to seeing him walking around in barely anything at all. Hoseok called me a cougar whenever we had time to chat while Andy kept telling me to talk with Jimin about how I felt, but I had gotten very good at deflecting. Things were better and I was taking my wins whenever I could get them. Even if those wins meant I went home sexually frustrated and aching for someone to make it better.
Jimin was packing up for the night and I was getting ready to head out. He had plans with a large group of his friends, so I would have to figure out dinner by myself this time. He invited me but I politely declined. I could vaguely recall how rude his friends from that restaurant had been, and that one girl's mean glare. I had no interest in repeating that.
Giselle waved at me on her way out which I returned with a smile. She was a very sweet, college girl and getting to know her was fun. Her brother moved out here six years ago and was the only reason she left Memphis. In-State tuition and a rent-free bedroom was all it took to convince her to spend some quality time with her big brother and his dog, Lucky.
She and Sam were the closest, but I would often see her eating lunch with Megan when he was with a client. Everyone was making bets on when they would eventually hook up, but I was convinced that had already happened and they were keeping it a secret from the nosy staff.
"See you tomorrow," Yoongi called out from across the room, seemingly appearing out of thin air.
He was out of eyesight before I could reply.
"Bye Yoon," Giselle sing-songed anyway, shoving her ear buds in and leaving before the door could close behind Yoongi. "Night guys!"
As the young woman said, Yoongi and Megan were the two most important people to befriend. Not just for massages either. The both of them were hilarious and kept the back fridge stocked with our favorite snacks. On the mornings I did not have time to eat breakfast, Megan stopped and got me a muffin and coffee from her favorite cafe. If I needed someone to help me out in the pool, Yoongi was always happy to offer himself for the job. It was challenging for me to focus on my swimming when Jimin was around, and I would often come in early to get a quick work out in before he got here.
“You okay getting home?” Jimin asked.
We had come together tonight, and he had offered to drive us in his truck. I had grown very fond of the green machine, which Jimin affectionately called Fiona, and I jumped at the chance to get in his passenger seat. We were usually riding around in my car since it was better on gas.
“Yeah, I’m riding with Sam.”
Sam and I had grown close as well. He was super funny and always down to hang out with me if I showed up by myself. On the odd Sunday I felt like getting out of the house, I found myself at the gym with Sam. I was currently attempting to teach him how to swim and always filled in for Yoongi on the weekends.
Jimin nodded, “Good. See you this weekend?”
I smiled, “Can’t miss your big party.”
Jimin’s 24th birthday was on the 13th and his family liked to go big. Eloise was clearing out an entire section in their restaurant for all of us, and I had found myself teamed up with Taehyung to help with the planning. Na-Yeon put everything in his hands since she was not feeling up to the task this year. I only agreed to help when I realized just how overboard the snowboarder would go if no one was there to reel him back in. So far, I had placed the responsibility of decorating, music, and organizing the gift table on my shoulders. James had pulled me aside and thanked me when he found out. Apparently, he was also worried about Taehyung’s enthusiasm. 
“It should be fun,” He nodded. “I’m going to head out.”
“See you tomorrow,” We had finally started coming 5 days a week. "We're working on your turns. Butterflies, too. Be prepared.”
He groaned, “You’re torturing me, coach.”
I laughed, “Is the baby upset?”
“Very,” He winked. My mouth went dry. Sometimes I felt silly for getting nervous around him, especially when I knew he flirted with everyone. I was not special. “See you Saturday.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled as I stared at his retreating back. “See you.”
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Jimin’s birthday passed quietly. We had a great time and ate well. Taehyung got drunk enough to suggest karaoke once we cleared out the place for the night, and he and Na-yeon had all of us cracking up. I finally met Jungkook’s girlfriend, a pretty girl who did not talk very much, and I could feel the tension between the two of them. Jimin said that was just how they were and to ignore it.
After Jungkook successfully shoved Jimin's face into his cake, we opened presents. The boys got him tons of workout clothes and gear, Eloise bought him a new blender, and his parents both chipped in to get the new video game he had been talking about picking up.
I gifted him a bottle of his favorite cologne after Na-Yeon mentioned he was out. Jo Malone was the most distracting thing in my life right now, its scent clinging to the passenger side of my car most days and driving me insane if Jimin stood too close. Still, it was something I did not think I could part with now. Jimin was happy with the present and hugged me after opening it. I was positive I had this stupid grin on my face for the rest of the night.
By Halloween we were in the gym every day, save Sunday and the occasional Saturday when Jimin needed some time to rest. We both kept our word, our conversation at the restaurant we went to with Jungkook and Taehyung sticking better than I thought it would. Overtime he got more confident when asking for a break and I was a professional at picking up on his body language. We were a good team, and I was confident he would be in great shape for the Olympics.
It was mid-November now and Taehyung had finally gotten around to getting us together for the sushi date in Detroit. I had just gotten out of the shower when Jimin messaged he was going to come along. His mom had a rough Sunday and could not go to their usual dance class, so he had stayed with her instead. He looked worn out when he walked inside the pool room Monday morning so instead of training, I just sent him home. We were meeting back up on Wednesday to get back to work, but it seemed Jungkook’s nagging finally convinced him to come out with the rest of us.
My relationships with his friends had also started to improve. Taehyung had added me to their group chat a few weeks back and I had tried to keep up with them as often as I could remember to. It was not difficult. They text so often I had to silence notifications for the chat, but I had to admit they were really funny. Jungkook especially.
I was happy to spend time with everyone and getting out of the house sounded nice. Violet and Calvin were great, and I did enjoy eating dinner with them sometimes, but I would be lying if I said they would be my first choice to spend time with.
I had grown close enough with Taehyung during the partying planning that his bubbly, over the top personality had become more endearing than overwhelming. We had gone to lunch a few times together, his boldness only increasing with each meet up, and he could hold me hostage for hours if I let him. Milo was typically my saving grace, and Taehyung would leave with a wet kiss to my cheek and promises of the same time next week.
Tae: Y/N should pick you up
Jimin: Why???
Kookie: Your truck is ass
I chuckled and sent off a text of my own before going to my dresser to find something warm to wear. 
Me: I don’t mind driving
Me: Don’t hate on the truck. I like it.
My phone chimed a few times but I ignored it for now. I knew I wanted to wear a pair of dark, navy jeans. It was freezing outside so a long sleeve was a must, but I could get away with just two layers. My hands found a mustard-yellow turtleneck and I smiled. I could wear my brown boots with it. Happy with my outfit, I checked on the chat.
Jimin: U sure?
Tae: The truck is GREEN
Tae: Already a crime
Kookie: It can’t go over 60
Darcy: omg stop blowing my phone up 
Darcy: just ride with her dude
Jimin: Y/N?
I rolled my eyes. I hated when he did that. Jimin had the habit of double and triple checking in with someone. It was sweet but it also drove me insane. There was nothing more I disliked than repeating myself, especially if I already agreed to something. 
Me: I’ll pick you up in 30, k?
Jimin: Thanks
Darcy: Was that so hard?
I frowned. So, Darcy was in a bad mood then. Shouldn't take it out on Jimin, I thought. Even if she was having a bad day, something that seemed to be a reoccurring theme with her, it doesn't mean she can just talk to people like that. Fighting the urge to give into my annoyance and call her out, I tossed my phone on my bed and made myself finish getting ready.
Walking into the living room, I went on a hunt for the jacket I wanted to wear. It was the same color as my leather boots with sherpa trim. It would tie everything together and, I hoped, would keep Taehyung from complaining too much about the “offensive” color of my shirt. He had a hard time accepting anything in the yellow or green family. Finding it on the sofa, I nodded and left it be. I would grab it on my way out. 
It took me more time to get my hair figured out than anything, but once I gave up and did the same thing that I did every day, it worked itself. After that, I put on a little bit of makeup since I figured it would not take me very long. This was a casual outing with friends and the dim lights of the sushi place would give me some grace if things were not perfect. A nice base, simple eye look, and a layer of mascara already had me looking more awake than I had in months. After applying a layer of lip gloss and a misting of setting spray, I was out of the door, jacket keeping me warm, and purse tucked under my arm. 
I drove in silence, like I always did, and pulled onto the curb of Jimin’s house. Sending a text to the chat, I waited for him to come out. I was a few minutes later than I said I would be, but Jimin found a way to be late for everything, so I did not feel that bad about it. Taehyung and Milo were already on leaving Ann Arbor, and Jungkook and Darcy riding with them. They would only beat us there by fifteen minutes or so, but I hoped he would hurry up and come outside. Taehyung worked hard for those reservations.
My phone vibrated and I stared at the little device in my cup holder. It was weird how my anxiety fluctuated on a daily basis. Back home, I could talk on the phone and hold a conversation behind the wheel, but ever since I came to Michigan it felt like I had taken three massive steps back. Taking a few deep breaths, I told myself that I was safe. I was parked, completely stationary, and no one was around. No traffic meant no accidents. Sucking in a harsh breath, I picked it up.
Jimin: Be out in a sec
Jimin: Just making sure mom is okay
He had not left his mother’s house in days. I was worried about Na-Yeon, but I had to believe that Jimin would tell me if something was seriously wrong with her. I had truly started to feel connected with the woman. We joked over dinner and I found myself helping her out more and more each time I came by. It would devastate me if she passed away without me knowing how bad it had gotten. 
Me: Take your time
He came out only two minutes later. Wearing a heavy, black puffy jacket and tight pants, Jimin leisurely walked over and got into the car. His cologne hit me as soon as the door opened, and I bit my lip, trying to hide the deep inhale I took. Jo fucking Malone.
He smiled at me but otherwise kept quiet as I drove. He knew I had a difficult time behind the wheel and tried his best to keep conversation light. While I normally appreciated the sentiment, I did not want to make him sit in silence for 45 minutes. Opening and closing my mouth a few times, I struggled to come up with a good conversation topic.
We often bounced from idea to idea, mostly sticking to swimming and music, and I always found our little talks to be very insightful. Movies and tv shows had been fun to bond over, a small generational gap introducing us to shit we had never heard of before. There were so many things I could bring up, things that Jimin would jump at the idea to talk about. Still, I could not find my voice.
“So,” I started, awkwardly, trying to push past the blockade of anxiety. “Is this place as good as Tae says or is he going off on one of his rants again?”
Jimin chuckled softly. “It’s pretty good, but it’s still just sushi. Taehyung finds a way to make everything sound extravagant.”
We shared a quiet laugh. 
“It was nice of him to invite me,” My hands gripped the wheel tighter. We were starting to approach more populated areas. “He didn’t have to do that.”
Jimin snorted childishly, the sound relaxing me ever so slightly. If there was one thing I hated was driving at night. I was lucky the snow had stopped falling yesterday afternoon and the roads were clear, but a part of me wished I had asked Jimin to drive.
Traffic in Saline was lighter than any town back in Colorado, and driving around was a breeze in comparison. At home, you were lucky if there was only one accident a day, but more times than not I had been stuck on the interstate for hours because of multiple car crashes. Michigan felt less hectic; safer. Not safe enough to let my guard down, but safe enough to listen to Jimin when he spoke.
“Taehyung is just that kind of guy.”
I nodded; eyes glued to the road. I wanted to say something and keep our conversation flowing, but the more cars around us the more I tuned him out. My eyes flickered between my rearview mirror, side mirrors, and windshield rapidly as I drove. Once we were out of Saline and on I-94, I loosened my grip on the wheel. We would not hit much traffic until we were closer to Detroit.
Jimin stayed quiet and looked out the window. I wanted to thank him for being so understanding, but I knew he would not want me to. I kept my thoughts to myself and focused on the road. Jimin began to hum an unfamiliar tune.
My hands were shaking when we pulled up to the restaurant. Traffic had gotten pretty bad coming into the city, but we had picked a good day to come out. Jimin hummed and sang underneath his breath for most of the car ride, and we had a few small sporadic conversations when I felt the knots in my stomach loosen for a few brief moments.
"It's been forever since I've come here," Jimin said to himself, going to unbuckle his seat belt. "It looks pretty filled up."
Bash was a sushi place across from Wayne State University's football field and was one Taehyung’s favorite restaurants. He bragged about how delicious their food was for weeks before finally wearing me down with the promise of picking up the tab. He made reservations for their omakase, or “chef’s choice,” and promised I would get his obsession.
When I talked to Megan about it, she had said it was an expensive meal, so I was going to try and force myself to enjoy it regardless of my own personal feelings. Jimin seemed to like it here, and we usually enjoyed a lot of the same foods, so it made me feel a bit better about things.
I had to park down the street and spotted Taehyung’s Mazda a few cars away. Instead of getting out, I took a few moments to gather my composure. Jimin sat beside me patiently. He had grown used to my traffic anxiety. We had driven together so many times now, and he had gotten a taste of the worst of it a handful of times.
He had only asked about it the first time we rode to the gym together, completely frazzled and unsure of himself as I hyperventilated in the driver's seat. My hands trembled violently as my palms sweat profusely, and I let myself shed a few tears once we were parked. He reached out, placing a hand on my back, and quietly asked me what was bothering me.
“Red light,” I managed to wheeze out. They were doing some construction on the main road and things started piling up. I had gotten stuck in the intersection for just a few seconds, but it was long enough to send me into a blind panic. “Anxiety. Sorry. Need a minute.”
He helped me calm down, calming down to help me through my panic attack. We played a game of I-Spy, Jimin picking out the most obvious shit and saying the most random things to point out in order to make me laugh. When I felt a little better, he got out of the car to help me get out. After that he kept quiet about my obvious driving discomforts, but stuck close just in case I needed the support, and always offered to drive.
“Ready?” He asked when I grabbed my phone out of the cup holder.
“Yeah.”
We walked inside and the hostess made light conversation while she walked us to the back. Taehyung's laugh could be heard from the other side of the room, and his bright blue hair and vibrant eyeshadow stuck out like a sore thumb in this place. Milo was dressed in all black, his arm draped around his fiancé's shoulder, and a smile on his face. Jungkook was beside him scrolling through his phone, but Darcy was nowhere in sight. Glancing at Jimin, he seemed exasperated.
“Trouble in paradise,” He murmured, leaning down so I could hear him. I had to imagine their relationship was very exhausting and took its toll on their friend group. I knew how much it sucked being caught between Tilly and Hobi back in the day. “Here we fucking go.”
Taehyung jumped out of the booth when he caught sight of us, his fluffy, white cropped top riding up, revealing even more of his tanned skin. The snowboarder wrapped his arms around my waist and snuggled my hairline, showering me in compliments. Gold hoop earrings tapped my forehead, and his belly button ring was cold against my ribcage. He was happy to see me “dolled up” for once and forgave how ugly my shirt was since I looked “so cute.”
Milo gave me a slight wave, eyes never leaving Taehyung's bouncing body as he embraced Jimin, and Jungkook put his phone down to greet us. Darcy had gone to the bathroom and from the look on Milo’s face, Jimin’s was right about trouble in paradise. Whatever was going on, we were all about to fall witness. It made my stomach churn just thinking about it.
Our waitress brought a new pot of tea, asking us if we needed anything, before leaving with the promise of the first course coming out soon. Darcy almost slammed into the poor woman on her way back to our booth, her annoyed huff making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. When she sat down beside her boyfriend her entire body was rigged and face pulled together tightly. She did not spare us a glance as she sulked.
Darcy was a very beautiful girl and it made sense why Jungkook liked her so much. Tanned skin, green eyes, and black hair, the girl had one of those bodies most women would pay thousands of dollars for. Like Taehyung had said, she was a pleasant enough person, and we did not along well enough to hold a conversation, but there was no hiding the fact that Darcy was not a nice girl. In fact, I would venture to say she was very, very mean.
I saw it firsthand at Jimin’s birthday party. I had a moment where I felt myself panicking. Overwhelmed with all of the noise and people, I excused myself and called Andy to get my head back on straight. The women's restroom was tucked away in a small hallway and allowed me the space to shed a few tears. I was just starting to calm down, Andy's words of encouragement getting back to some sort of baseline, while I rubbed cold water on my neck. That was when I heard Jungkook on the other side of the door.
He was angry and when I told Andy I needed to go, I had every intention of going out there to talk to him, but another voice beat me to it. Darcy had been in a bad mood since she walked through the front door, her shitty attitude bringing down the party every time she opened her mouth. At first, I just brushed it off as an off night, something I could feel empathy towards, but then she opened her mouth and stopped those thoughts in their tracks.
The two of them were serial cheaters, and Jimin had alluded to that being their main issue when I asked about her attitude problem earlier that night. Eloise was the person who gave me the whole story and was not afraid to voice her dislike for the older girl. This was different from Milo, a guy who she clashed with due to their night and day personalities. Darcy had actively picked on and made fun of her growing up, and bullied her older sister while they were in school together.
Darcy, according to Eloise, started the back-and-forth cheating when they were in college. Instead of going their separate ways, something I doubt anyone would have blamed Jungkook for doing, he chose to get even. After fucking one of her sorority sisters, Jungkook made his way through the entire house within the span of three months. In retaliation, Darcy slept with a couple of guys from the NHL, something she still did to this day.
On the night of the party, she was still fuming over catching him with another woman a few days prior. Trapped in the bathroom and too afraid to let them know I could hear them; I suffered through five minutes of a couple’s quarrel I had no business being in the middle of. It was an eye opener for sure and made me avoid getting too close to either of them.
Darcy was very mean and spiteful, her words meant to cut him deeply with little care about how it would make him feel in the long run. She even brought up screwing one of his rivals to get back at him, something she had done on numerous occasions, and went as far as to compare the two men in bed. It helped to explain why Jungkook hated Jackson Wang so much.
Jungkook, despite how much I enjoyed him as an individual, was just as awful. He spent most of the argument defending his bad behavior by bringing up her own and took no accountability for his actions. He could have sex with all of Michigan and it would be justified because she cheated on him first. It was all very juvenile, and I tried my best to avoid them for the rest of the night.
“Bet they can’t go ten minutes without fighting,” Jimin mumbled in my ear.
I fought back a smile, leaning into his side. Physical touch was the swimmer’s love language and I had slowly grown accustomed to small touches here and there. So, it did not catch me off guard when his arm came around my shoulders, resting just above my head, hand gently brushing against my neck. The voice in my head often wished he would do it more often.
“She won’t start something before the food gets here,” I reasoned, stealing a look at the couple. Jungkook seemed fine, but from the look on Darcy’s face that might change soon. “I’ll say twenty.”
“What are we bargaining for?”
I laughed awkwardly, “Whatever you want.”
Taking a second to think, Jimin eyed the couple across the table. Taehyung and Milo were obviously extremely aware of the couple's awkward tension and tactfully ignored them, instead giggling about some inside joke. They were a very sweet pair. My weariness about Milo had dissipated over the last few weeks, but I could understand why he and Eloise could not get along.
Lou herself had admitted to being a bit of a stuck-up teenager back in the day, and Milo was the typical small-town stoner. They constantly butt heads when they were in high school, and just drifted apart with age. Taehyung and Jimin's friendship were the only reason they were in the same circle anymore, and the two just never spoke to avoid pressing buttons.
“I want to do something together,” Jimin finally said, I smiled, trying to ignore the snarky comments Darcy was making. The arguing was starting, and I felt my neck growing hot. Did they have to do this in public? “Get dinner or something.”
“We do that all the time,” I countered, half-heartedly paying attention to him.
“Denny’s doesn’t count," He mumbled.
The waitress finally came back with a large tray of sushi in her hand. That seemed to break up the argument momentarily, but Darcy did not seem pleased to be interrupted. Stuffing a large piece of ahi sashimi in my mouth, I sparked up a conversation with Taehyung to keep myself from having another meltdown. Beside him, Milo sent me a grateful look.
The rest of the table was silent, waiting for the fight to resume. Taehyung kept smiling painfully, but I could see the panic bubbling in his eyes, and for once I saw a small crack in his otherwise well-crafted facade. 
“I didn’t mean just getting food,” Jimin finally continued when we hit a lull, and it took me a few seconds to remember what he was talking about. “I meant… going out.”
I looked at him, eyebrow raised. His cheeks were puffed with scallops and I wished we were alone. This was not a conversation I wanted to have in front of the others, especially if he was insinuating what I thought he was. I did not want to jump to conclusions, but I was sure he was asking me out on a date. Even if it made me feel jittery thinking about it, I had a difficult time finding the voice to say yes. Saying no felt just as impossible, though, and I wished he would have picked a better time to bring this up. Whatever the hell this was.
“What are you asking me?” I whispered, taking another piece of fish off my plate, sneaking a look at Taehyung and Milo.
They were too wrapped up in one another to being listening in on us. I did not even bother checking in with the other two. I knew for a fact they did not care about anybody else but themselves.
“You know,” He replied.
Dating was not off the table, and I was more than happy to indulge myself, but I was worried about crossing this invisible line I had drawn. What would people say if they found out? A coach and her trainee, and even worse, the older woman and her much younger man. I could see the headlines now and it made my palms sticky. That would not be a good look for either one of us, and I did not want our personal relationship to affect Jimin’s career.
Putting my chopsticks down, I leaned away from him. “Can we talk about this later?”
He nodded, meeting my eyes, and I was relieved to see he was not upset. I had seen him angry a few times now, and he wore it on his sleeve with pride. Jimin was not afraid of his emotions, something I found extremely attractive, and it was nice that all I could see right now was understanding. Whatever happened he would hear me out, and I had to hope he would be understanding. I just had to be sure I did not fuck anything up.
Across the table the bickering had started again. Our waitress brought out the rest of our meal, sans desert, and seemed happy we were enjoying the food. She eyed Darcy wearily and left our table in a hurry. I felt horrible for the wait staff who had come to our table. They were all getting the nastiest looks from the dark haired beauty.
“Do we really have to do this now?” Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair roughly. His face was red and expression tight. “In front of my friends, dude? Are you serious?”
I cleared my throat, grabbed my tea and took a long sip before sinking into the booth and praying no one could see me. Jimin’s arm dropped, and he squeezed my shoulder in comfort. I let myself melt under his touch. It always felt nice when his hands were on me, his warmth burning hot like a furnace even in below freezing temperatures. Taehyung’s eyes were bulging out of his head now, his bottom lip trembling as he tried his best to keep the conversation between the four of us light. He had stopped trying to include the other two.
“You two seem close,” He gritted, fakeness coming from him that I had never encountered before. “Glad you were able to sort that out.”
I looked over at Jimin and saw his cheeks had gone pink. So, Taehyung knew something I didn’t. It would make sense for the childhood best friend to get the scoop before the chick he’s known for two months, I had definitely vented to my friends on more than one occasion, and my curiosity was peaked.
“I'm working on it,” Jimin replied, taking a big gulp of water. “Thanks, Tae," He breathed, rolling his eyes.
I stifled a laugh. He was so cute when he was embarrassed. I made a mental note to ask Tae to explain what he meant when we had a chance to get lunch. I had a feeling the snowboarder would be more than happy to divulge that little piece of information. 
“Talking about me to your friends?” I teased, trying my best to ignore the ever-growing argument across from me. The butterflies in my stomach were a helpful distraction. “Good things, I hope.”
He cracked a smile, face and neck flushed. “The best things.”
Such a flirt.
I bit my lip and looked away. Eating was a nice way to interrupt the electricity that was enveloping us, and I gorged myself on octopus and tuna. Whatever the hell these dishes were, I had to admit the sushi here was the best I had ever had. I would never doubt a recommendation from Taehyung again.
The conversation started flowing easily after that. Jungkook and Darcy were at a stalemate and were relatively quiet on their side of the booth. With the atmosphere lightening, Milo felt good enough to start telling us his latest work stories. He was a firefighter along with all three of his brothers. His father was promoted to chief about five years ago but was coming up to his retirement. The only one of his siblings to avoid the fireman fate was his baby sister, but had still managed to find a job at the station.
"You guys must be close," I laughed in disbelief.
“It’s the family business,” He joked. "Rosie is our new EMT."
Taehyung spoke excitedly about his upcoming competitions and was really hopeful he would win enough to qualify for the Olympics this year. Milo and Jimin both reassured him multiple times while I tried my best to keep up with everything he was talking about. I had very little knowledge of snowboarding, so I was having to constantly interrupt and ask for clarification. No one seemed to mind, and eventually Jungkook joined in to talk about his upcoming hockey games.
The Red Wings were having a good year, and he was proud of his team for working as hard as they did. As a goalie, he did not do a lot of skating, but his job was one of the hardest on the team. From what I knew after watching a few games on tv with Jimin's family, Jungkook was one of the best goalies in the NHL who was highly sought after. He had been offered millions to transfer to the New York Rangers, but out of loyalty he turned them down.
“I’ll take you to a few matches if you want,” Jimin offered. “Kook can get us tickets whenever.”
I smiled, “That sounds like fun.”
“Milo and I go all of the time so we can sit together,” Taehyung interjected, his shoulders relaxed for the first time since we got here.
Darcy was quiet and stayed on her phone. Jungkook was pretending she was not here, and it helped keep the arguing from starting again. I was not sure how long the truce would last, but I hoped they could hold it together long enough for us to finish eating.
“So Y/N,” Milo mused, taking a piece of fish from Taehyung’s plate. “Have you ever thought about competing again?”
I laughed nervously, “For a time, maybe. My injuries make it hard for me to swim the way I used to so I decided to keep it as a hobby.”
It was not a complete lie, but I knew I might be able to get back into competitions if I put in the time and effort. I hated the thought of being back in the spotlight, cameras shoved in my face, only to lose and give them more to talk about. I was still recovering from the trauma they inflicted on me after the accident. My leg injuries just gave me the perfect excuse to keep my distance.
He nodded, eyebrows knitted, “I didn’t know you had medical leave. What happened?”
Jimin tensed up beside me. 
“I was in a car accident,” I replied. Talking about what happened did not bother me as much as it used to, and Milo seemed genuinely interested in the answer. “I had to get a full knee replacement on my left side, and a full hip replacement. I should have lost my leg, but the doctor on staff recognized me and brought up my profession.”
Milo whistled, giving me a sympathetic look. “Leg? You could have died.”
“Well,” I breathed, finishing off my last piece of fish. “I pulled through though, so it wasn’t all bad.” I fiddled with my shirt, pretending to smooth it down as I played it cool. "Anyway, I have nerve damage in my leg that makes me get really horrible cramps and twitching if I overwork my muscles. It sucks but coaching is really fun, so I can't complain."
Blatantly lying wasn't something I did often, but I truly hated reliving the months of physical therapy. Unable to walk or talk, I was stuck in that hospital bed for weeks and then got sent home to watch my closest friends wait on me hand-and-foot. When I wasn’t in physical therapy, I was with my SLP. When I wasn’t with her then I was in bed, crying into my pillow, and wishing I had never woken up. It was an extremely dark time in my life, one filled with chronic pain and overwhelming depression, and talking about it made me emotional. 
“Anyway,” Taehyung sent his fiancé a pointed look. “Kookie’s next home game is in two weeks.”
Happy to be out of the spotlight, I began to talk with Jimin about changing our schedule around so we could attend the game. Taehyung was excited to get me some Red Wing merchandise, and Jungkook quickly began to boast about his prowess on the ice. Darcy scoffed beside him and I felt the group tense up.
“You’re so cocky, Ian,” She taunted, eyes glued to her phone. “I heard Avalanche was doing really well this season.”
I knew from the group chat that the Red Wings and the Colorado Avalanche had a long-standing rivalry. It had started all the way back in the mid-90’s and reached its peak in 2002. While the intensity had dissipated over the years, it had recently spiked up again due to Jungkook and Jackson Wang’s ongoing feud. The only reason Darcy would bring that up would be to piss her boyfriend off. 
“Hm,” Jungkook smirked, chuckling darkly. “Who told you that?”
I held my breath, already guessing where this was going. The tension from earlier was thicker than ever as we fell silent. Darcy put her phone on the table, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and looked Jungkook in the face as she replied.
“Jackson.”
It was dead silent for a few seconds. Then, without waiting for a response, Darcy kept digging the knife in and twisting. She called him ugly, said he sucked in bed, brought up all of the ways Jackson was better than he was, and went as far as to bring up his father's affair. Jungkook could not get a word in as her silky voice dropped lower and lower, words cutting deeper and deeper, and eyes growing brighter as she watched his expression fall. I learned something tonight. Darcy enjoyed hurting Jungkook.
"Why are you doing this, dude?" Jungkook's voice was thick with emotion. "You're acting like a fucking child. It's embarrassing."
“Holy shit,” Milo groaned as their voices got louder. “Are they being forreal right now?”
“Babe,” Taehyung scolded, the forced smile still plastered on his face. “Language.”
“You weren’t embarrassed when you fucked that girl” Darcy screamed and I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably. “Why should I feel bad about airing out my dirty laundry? Everyone here knows how much of a whore I am anyway, isn’t that right, Ian?”
“Keep your voice down,” Jungkook hissed, eyes glassy. “You’re causing a scene.”
Taehyung and Milo looked as mortified as I felt, both of them staring at Darcy in horror. The entire restaurant had gone silent. Eyes were glued to our table as they argued. She shouted about him getting his dick sucked in their bed, and Jungkook was just angry she was acting like this in public. It was Jimin’s birthday all over again only this time they knew people were watching and did not care. Taehyung’s smile was finally gone and replaced by trembling lips and fidgeting hands.
“Take that shit outside,” Jimin cut in, voice cold and hard. Darcy glared daggers in our direction. “You’re going to get us kicked out.”
Darcy opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the waitress coming back and demanding our party leave. Taehyung began to apologize profusely while Darcy stormed out of the restaurant, bumping into numerous people roughly without looking back. Jungkook was hot on her heels, breathing heavily, and eyes glossed over with unshed tears. She shouted that Jackson was outside and for Jungkook to go fuck himself. Jungkook didn’t reply but I knew he was not expecting the other man to be here. I sure the fuck wasn't.
An arm wrapped around my shoulders, “Hey, calm down. Breathe.”
I had not realized I had been holding my breath. Turning my head, I was taken aback by how close Jimin was. Our noses brushed together, his breath hot against my cheek, and I jerked away, heart racing. The butterflies were swarming now, and a shiver went down my spine. His arm dropped and I immediately missed its warmth. Flustered, I scooted out of the booth and kept my head hung low. I was so embarrassed, and I could hear Taehyung’s voice starting to wobble as he handed over some cash to the waitress for the trouble. No one was going home happy tonight. 
“I’m so fucking pissed off,” Jimin grunted, keeping in step with me. Milo was attempting to get a now hysterical Taehyung calmed as they followed behind us. “I don’t know why Tae invites the two of them anywhere.”
I shook my head, “It’s not his fault. She needs to get some self-control, though. That was so rude and uncalled for, and for what?"
“They both owe him a fucking apology,” He sighed harshly.
The guests of honor were already in a very heated screaming match when we finally made it outside. Whatever had been brewing inside had clearly reached its peak, and neither one of them was willing to back down. Jimin’s arm was back around my shoulders as he tried his best to shelter me from the strong winds that were kicking up. Looking at Darcy and Jungkook all I could see were my parents and it caused me great discomfort. Maybe I should try to call my dad again and make sure he was alright? He rarely answered but at least it would cut some of the edge off of my anxiety.
“Why are you acting like this?” Jungkook shouted, pulling at his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?”
“You!” Darcy shrieked. “You! You! YOU! You’re the problem. This is all your fault!”
Jungkook called her a crazy bitch and Darcy slapped him across the face before stomping off. A sleek red convertible was waiting for her on the curb, a well-groomed man behind the steering wheel. He smiled and waved at Jungkook before speeding off, Darcy already attaching her lips to his neck and not sparing any of us a second glance.
“What the fuck!” Taehyung shouted, sobbing and clinging to Milo. 
I was surprised he was able to hold himself back for that long. He seemed hellbent on strangling Jungkook as soon as he was able. I stepped to the side watching a man I had never seen upset shove Jungkook backwards. Any resemblance of a smile was gone now, replaced with a snot-nosed, red eyed man with bared teeth. Jungkook stumbled, barely keeping his footing before shoving the other man back. Milo was quick to defend his fiancé, pushing Jungkook so hard he stumbled, fell on his ass, and cried out in pain. 
Jimin’s arm gripped me tighter as he stared at the scene unfold in silence. His clenched jaw, however, told me how angry he was. I briefly wondered what he would be doing if he was not so focused on keeping me warm.
“That was so fucked up,” Taehyung cried, wiping his face roughly. “I told you both to keep that shit at home or don’t come!”
“She started it! It’s not my fault-”
“Dude,” Milo shook his head, wrapping his arms around Taehyung. “It doesn’t fucking matter. That’s your girl.”
As the three of them argued, I tried to decipher the look on Jimin’s face. He was angry, that was very apparent, and I felt my own anger finally start to rise. He had been dealing with so much shit and on his first night out in ages this happens? It was unfair and ridiculous, my frustration over the entire situation making me want to go over and push Jungkook around, too. However, I knew that was not the way to handle this. Truth was, he was not the only person to blame for how badly the night had ended. Darcy was the main instigator.
“Are you okay?” I asked Jimin, stepping away from his tight embrace. His arm was still around my shoulders with no sign of moving. “I’m sorry everything got so shitty.”
He nodded, face softening when he looked at me. “Just worried about Taehyung. He was really excited about tonight.”
The yelling was finally starting to calm down and I was happy that they were talking things out. I did not think I could handle the screaming for any longer. I had been a bundle of nerves since I left my house, and my fingers trembled at my sides. I could hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head, though I was positive it was distorted after so many years. Sometimes when her and dad fought, she would find me hiding in my closet and pull me out, hands leaving my skin tender from the harsh grip she had on my arms, before telling me to clean up the broken dishes from off the floor.
“Come here you little shit!”
She hated me; hated being a mother. I could remember how much I wished she would hold me like the other kids' moms held them but was too afraid to ask. One time I drew a picture of her at school and she never even looked at it. Instead, she smoked her cigarettes at the dinner table and watched Law and Order. If I really thought about it, she threw the drawing away. It was too dirty. Just like I was too dirty.
Mom had germaphobia and considered me one of the dirtiest things she had ever seen. I was not allowed in their bedroom because of it. Dad went along with it like he did everything else. When he wasn’t drinking, he was sleeping or in the garage. I hoped he was doing okay. Danielle seemed to be just as controlling as mom had been.
“Where’d you go?”
I startled, whipping around to find Jimin staring at me. His expression was gentle and calm, and I was suddenly aware of the harsh chill nipping at my wet cheeks. I had not noticed I was starting to cry. Strange. It had been a long time since those memories had been brought up.
“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing my arm. “You looked lost.”
I nodded, quickly reaching up to pat the tears away. It was a good thing my mascara was smudge proof or else I might look even more pathetic. I am 31 now and it felt stupid to cry over things so far in the past. Things I had not had to deal with in well over 20 years. Dr.Wolfe would disagree with me, but she wasn't here.
“Yeah,” I nodded, voice thick. “Just zoned out for a second. Eyes must have dried out.”
It was a bad lie, but a lie he accepted. Squeezing my arm one last time, he finally moved away to give me a bit of breathing room. That was another thing that I always appreciated about the guy. He never overstayed his welcome, even if he wanted to. Taking a second to compose myself, I mindlessly fixed my hair and adjusted my clothes. Nervous habit.
“I think everyone’s heading home for the night,” Jimin said, nodding his head toward the other three men. “They seem cool. You ready to leave?”
I shrugged, “If you are.”
He nodded and walked over to the ground. I gave myself another moment to gather my thoughts. The worst of it was over and I doubted those memories would make themselves known again. With the screaming over it would not take long for my head to get itself straightened out. I might ask Jimin to drive us back, though. I was exhausted, and frankly, I did not think we would be safe if I was behind the wheel. Nothing worse than an anxious driver.
Jungkook was ashamed of their behavior tonight, and when I joined the others, he was quick to throw a million apologies in my direction. I accepted them all easily but knew it would take me a few days to fully forgive him. Tonight was a lot. Hopefully I could speak with Taehyung privately and ask him not to invite the couple out with us. If I never had to see Darcy again it would make my stay that much easier.
“I think we’re going to go home,” Milo said once Jungkook walked away. He was planning on calling an Uber so Tae could have a bit of space. “My little flower is burned out for the night.”
I smiled sadly, “Are you sure? We can always try something else.”
Taehyung’s head snapped in my direction and I wanted to scoop him up in my arms. His face was puffy from crying and eyes still misty. He was quick to nod his head and reached out to take hold of my hands.
“You still want to hang out with me?” He whimpered.
I had only said it to cheer him up not thinking that he would actually go for the idea. I had never seen him so distraught before and Milo seemed convinced that he was over having fun. Stealing a look at the blonde, he gave me a grateful smile but otherwise kept a watchful eye on Taehyung.
“Of course I do,” I finally replied, squeezing his large hands. “Tonight wasn’t your fault.”
His lower lip started to wobble again and next thing I knew I was in a very tight, warm hug. Taehyung cried into the crook of my neck. He was worried I would not like him anymore because of the fight. I awkwardly hugged him back, hoping my calm reassurances would soothe him. We really needed to get from outside the front of this restaurant before they called the cops. 
“It’s alright,” I said, trying to gently remove his arms from my waist. “We’re still friends, I promise.”
After another minute of crying, Taehyung was back in Milo’s arms. His face was red, and his nose was running, but the sobs had stopped. Jimin placed a hand on my lower back and started to bounce a few ideas off of Milo. It was late, but from the sound of things, our get together was not over. I could not say for certain if this was a good thing or not, I did need to have that talk with Jimin. If we were out too late there was no way for me to promise I would not pass out in the car.
“Uh,” Jimin thought for a second. “If we’re still hungry there’s Pie Sci and Woodbridge is right down the street. There's also that park a few blocks away."
I shrugged, “Whatever’s the best?” Looking at Taehyung, I made sure that he was feeling well enough to hang out. “I won’t be upset if you want to go home. It was a rough night for all of us.”
He sniffled and nodded. “I’m just really tired.”
Jimin and I said our goodbyes and I promised the blue haired boy I would call him in the morning to set up another meet up. He called it a group date, something neither Jimin nor I disagreed with, but it did make me feel queasy. Depending on how our conversation goes, we may never spend time together outside of training. I felt like I was going to vomit.
“Let me drive?” Jimin murmured as we parted ways with the couple. 
I nodded, digging in my purse to find them. “Mind reader, I swear. Get out of my head, kid.”
He snickered, “Who says you weren’t in mine, granny”
The queasiness dissipated and I felt like I could breathe a little bit easier now. Being alone with Jimin had never felt this nerve wracking before, not even the first time we met, and it was hard to explain all of the thoughts and feelings going through my head. We were finally having the talk, but I had never imagined it going this way. Handing him the keys, I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Whoops,” I mocked. “You know me and my bad eyesight, kiddo.”
“Watch it,” He hissed, rubbing the spot. “Don’t want you breaking anything. You know you have frail bones.”
I laughed, “Don’t make me give you a knuckle sandwich, punk.”
Sliding into the passenger seat felt less daunting after the light hearted exchange. Still, my blood was pumping as Jimin clicked his seatbelt in place. I had no idea when the conversation would shift into murkier waters, but I needed to start thinking about what to say to him. 
Denying my feelings would only make things worse, and I did not think the younger man would believe me. In fact, he would be offended that I thought he was dumb enough to get bamboozled in the first place. Lying did not seem like the right call anyway. My feelings were not something to feel ashamed about, but they were very frightening. 
“When is later?”
I gasped, startled out of my thoughts. We had been driving for over ten minutes already. Time seemed to slip by when I was lost in my own head. Jimin apologized for scaring me but repeated the question once I reassured him that I was fine.
“Now,” I mumbled. “I guess later is now.”
Turning on the blinker, Jimin switched lanes smoothly. He was probably the best driver that I knew and always made sure to keep my little quirks in mind during our rides. He had even gotten used to leaving the radio off when I was around, something that I appreciated more than words could ever say. Recognizing that I was stalling, I cleared my throat and tried my best to get my jumbled thoughts across.
“As much as I would like to go on that date,” I started, voice weak, “I’m just a bit concerned with how that might affect our ability to work together.”
There we go, I thought to myself mentally patting myself on the back. That was not as hard as I thought it would be. Leaving out a few details would not hurt anybody, and it was the main cause of concern for me. My age was definitely up there, but I doubted Jimin would understand my perspective. To him I was just older, but to the rest of the world I was this cougar on the prowl for young men to help me relive my glory days. Even my own friends thought it was funny to make fun of the age gap.
“Is it only because of that?” Jimin pressed, his voice telling me that he was still reacting positively to whatever was coming out of my mouth. I was refusing to look at him, fearful that he would see through me. “Or is there something else bothering you?”
“W-w-well-” I stammered, “There is the media frenzy to think about. Sejin is already dealing with the press and your ‘out of character’ seclusion this season. Then there’s the age gap. I just-” I struggled to find the right words. Having let my insecurity slip out, I lost my flow and scrambled to get back on track. “Look, I haven’t done this whole dating thing in a really long time, and I don’t want that to get in the way of being a good coach. Ozzie put me in charge of you, and my reputation is on the line.”
I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Mouth dry and palms sweaty, I forced myself to look out of the window as I spoke. Anxiety had been something I dealt with for as long as I could remember, and it only got worse the older I got. My hands and fingers trembled in my lap as I tried to steady my breathing. 
In all of the dreams I had about Jimin, and there had been quite a few at this point, this moment had never felt so real and raw. We were always in these picture perfect pieces of heaven, sunshine beaming down on us, and the words I desperately wanted to say fell from my lips with ease. It was simple and sweet, and yet profound and beautiful. I could wax poetics and put myself thoughts together so eloquently he had no choice but to say yes to me. 
Reality was different. Here I was stumbling over my sentences and stuttering my way through words. Instead of taking his hand with mine, I was fidgeting with shaking fingers and desperately hoping he could not see just how uncomfortable I was. I knew he did. He always noticed. My heart was racing so fast I was afraid it would burst. Had he turned the heart up? It was boiling.
“I just want to know how you feel about me.”
“Hm?” I squeaked, unable to form any real words. My mouth was too dry. 
“I’ve thought about all of the same shit,” Jimin continued, voice as smooth and calming as ever. “I don’t care about any of that. All I want to know is how you feel about me.”
“You know,” I replied, wheezing. Talking felt impossible. “You know.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Taking in a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut and began the mental countdown. My therapist taught me the technique years ago and I always found it to be helpful. I did this a few times until I felt calm enough to open my eyes. 
“Are you alright?” Jimin asked.
“Yeah,” I nodded, finally feeling my heart rate slowing. “A little anxious.”
“Don’t be,” He placed a hand on my knee. “It’s just me.”
And he was right. It was just Jimin and I in my car, but that was also the reason I felt so suffocated. There was nowhere to run or hide in here, and if things went south I was stuck with him for half an hour. Trying not to let those pessimistic thoughts send me back into a panic, I began to mentally point out things in my car.
Air freshener. It's green. It smells like pine and lemons. I want a new scent. Jimin likes to buy this coconut and mango one that smells like candy. I will buy one like his. I love the smell.
I let out a heavy breath. Everything was fine. He was not upset. He just wanted to know how I felt about him. Nothing more nothing less. My heart was settling, and my fingers were no longer shaking.
“I like you,” I choked out, placing my hand over his. “But you already knew that.”
He gently laughed, flipping his hand up to intertwine our fingers. 
“Yeah, you’re a terrible actress.”
I groaned, leaning my head against the window. As much as I tried kidding myself, there was absolutely no way he did not see the way I looked at him. I always knew when his flirting took on a more serious edge, like when he called me beautiful after seeing the scar on my leg for the first time, so it should not have been surprising that he picked up on a thing or two. Still, it did not make it any less embarrassing.
“How long have you known?” I asked, peeking at him through my lashes.
“I mean, I had a feeling when you first got to town, but I wasn’t completely sure until that first training day.”
He laughed at my embarrassed groan, holding my hand tighter. I knew I wasn't subtle enough. Poker face champion, my ass.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” He cooed. “You’ve been my dream girl since I was, like, 15.”
“That's not helping the age gap thing,” I tittered as I played with his fingers. Then, because I could not help myself. “Dream girl, huh?”
Picking up on the teasing tone in my voice, Jimin chortled. 
“Okay, big head. Calm down.”
“Big head?” I guffawed, pulling my hand out of his grasp. “Who are you calling big head, shortstop?”
“You, big head,” Taking back my hand, Jimin pinned it down and kept a tight grip. “No take backs.”
I always loved it when Jimin was in a good mood. He was so playful and full of energy, and all signs of those dark days were in the deepest parts of his mind. It was impossible to keep myself from playing along which only served to egg him on.
“You never said yes or no.”
“Yes or no to what?” I questioned. 
Jimin started rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.
“To that date.”
Saying yes felt wrong, but saying no felt impossible. No matter what I said someone would be upset, and I had to decide who that would be: Jimin or America? I turned my own hand around this time and put my fingers through his. They fit together awkwardly, his hands just a bit too large, but I still found it perfect all the same.
“Do you have any ideas?”
His shiteating grin was contagious and a burst of butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. Hands clasped, Jimin started to list off all of the places we could go, but I was not fully listening. I had a date with this guy. I was going on a date with my trainee. 
“What do you think?”
I blinked rapidly, hoping he could not tell that I had zoned out. 
“You pick,” I breathed. “Surprise me.”
The rest of the drive back home was spent making small talk and discussing food preferences. Jimin was a dinner and a movie kind of guy, while I would rather do some sort of activity. What type of conversation could we have in a theater? Jimin seemed excited to plan out a fun night and I was just happy he was this into me. The feeling was most definitely mutual.
“Do you mind if I go to my house tonight? Mom needs some space and I know my dad is tired of having me breathing down their necks.”
I had yet to go over to his house. The days that we drove together were when he spent the evening with his parents. When Na-yeon and I talked about it, she was more upfront about her health situation than the men of the house. James spent most of his time taking care of his wife and their son enjoyed giving him a break every now and then. James would go on a fishing trip with his friends while Jimin stayed back to keep an eye on his mother. 
“Is it closer to town?” I asked, nibbling on my lower lip. 
I had yet to drive through downtown Ann Arbor. The Park house, and by proxy the Anderson’s, was a thirty minute drive from the bustling city. Nestled in the smaller town of Saline going towards Manchester, I had rarely had to leave the small town. This trip to Detroit was the farthest I had gone since arriving in Michigan, but I had a feeling the traffic in downtown Ann Arbor would be a bit much for me to drive through alone.
“Yeah,” I felt even more nervous by his nonchalant tone. “I used to live downtown, but I got tired of the noise. I bought my house in Eberwhite last summer, so there’s a little less foot traffic.”
“How’s the drive back to Saline?” Even I could hear the hesitation in my voice.
“Less than twenty,” Rubbing the back of my hand, his voice took on a sweeter tone. “We don’t have to. My truck’s at my parent’s place anyway.”
“Maybe some other time?” I forced myself to laugh, hoping to make the awkward tension leave. “Preferably when it’s not dark outside.”
I relaxed into my seat once I started seeing familiar landmarks. Saline was a very small town with a little over 2,000 residents, but downtown still had a way of attracting a relatively large crowd. Stoney Creek Brewery was packed and Jimin pointed out Sam’s car as we pass by. 
“Looks like he came out with Otis and Skye,” He murmured.
Otis was another personal trainer at the gym, and Skye was responsible for marketing. They had been going out for a while now and made plan to move to Ann Arbor once Otis graduated from school. He was getting his masters in movement science at the University of Michigan. They had planned on moving out there when he graduated last year, but neither of them could find a job that could pay their bills. Otis was hoping the master’s would give him a competitive edge while Skye saved up enough money to start her own advertising firm.
“Think Gigi is with them?” I wondered.
“Probably not. She’s busy studying for an exam. I saw that she requested time off tomorrow and the day after, so I don’t think she has the time to go out for drinks.”
Giselle was getting her bachelor’s in dental hygiene at UM, and everytime I spoke to her she was swamped with work. I had no idea she needed to request time off, though. Must be an intense program.
“Did you ever go to college?” I asked Jimin. 
He nodded, “I got my bachelor’s in psychology.”
Well, I had not been expecting that. 
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I never went back to get my master’s,” We turned onto the long road that led to his parent’s house. “I might after the Olympics.”
It was interesting to hear about his goals post-swimming. I never had those. My entire life was going to be swimming, and then, once I could no longer compete, I was opening my own swim school. After a couple of years of coaching under my belt, the plan was to start training professional athletes until I could join the Olympic coaching team. The accident was a very traumatic and eye-opening experience for me, so most of those plans ended up getting changed and modified over the years.
“What about you?” Jimin asked, pulling up to the curb.
“I went through an accelerated program at UCCS. Just graduated with my Masters in Athletic Training back in April.”
Neither one of us seemed to be ready to break the bubble we created. Even if we were just talking about school, it felt too intimate to leave. Holding hands in my car was new and I was worried if I opened the car door all of this would turn out to be a dream. The date, the confession; all of it. 
“I should get going,” Jimin sighed, still not moving his hand from mine. “It’s late and I have to drive home.”
I was the first one to move away. He was right. It was almost midnight and I had a really difficult time tonight. All of that yelling really took a toll on me. Jimin did not move until he heard the click of my seatbelt unfastening. 
“See you tomorrow?” He asked when I rounded the car. Getting out of the car, he held the door open as I slid inside. “I know we were out later than we thought we’d be.”
I nodded, “We can have a late morning. 8:30 instead of 6.”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
He closed my car door and jogged to his truck. It was parked in the driveway today. I pressed the button to roll my window down. 
“Drive safe!” I called out.
Looking over his shoulder, Jimin grinned and threw a hand up. I watched him climb into Fiona and tried to keep myself from worrying too much. It was so dark outside and he could be exhausted behind the wheel. Who knows what could happen to him.
He caught me staring and waved at me again. I returned it with a small smile. The truck stopped for a second and his phone was his hand. My cell phone vibrated in the cupholder.
Jimin: I’ll be okay
Jimin: Text you when I get home, k?
Looking back at the truck, I found him already looking at me. I nodded my response. He smiled at me again, waved, before finally backing out of the driveway. I did not move until I could no longer see his truck in my rearview. My phone buzzed one more time.
Jimin: At the stop sign on Woodland and Ann Arbor-Saline
Jimin: Go home. I’m here. I’m fine.
I hesitated texting him back when I knew he was driving, but decided that I would just have to trust he would not open it until it was safe.
Me: Get out of my head, kid
Finally putting my car in drive, I threw my phone back in its spot and made the ten minute drive down the road to the Anderson house. All of the lights were off when I pulled up and I was as quiet as a mouse walking to the backyard. 
I was beyond tired but still needed to get my nighttime routine done. Stripping out of my clothes, I turned on the shower and took off my makeup. Tonight wasn’t a wash night, so I was not in the shower for long. I heard my phone vibrating as I put on lotion and I quickly threw on a night shirt and went to my bedroom.
Jimin: Who says you aren’t in mine, meemaw
Jimin: I’m home now so you can get some sleep
Jimin: Night, geezer
I snorted. That was a new one. Crawling into bed, I got comfortable under my blankets and thought about a good comeback.
Me: Thank you
Me: Geezer? That’s such an geriatric thing to say, you whippersnapper
Jimin: LOL night 🫰🏼
Me: Night 🌜
I quick sent Taehyung a text to make sure he and Milo go home safely before putting my phone on the charger. Jungkook sent a text to our group chat an hour ago to let us know he was in his apartment back in Detroit. He was in Ann Arbor so often since Darcy lived out here, but he had bought a multi-million dollar home in Corktown when was first signed to the Red Wings in 2019. Milo was the one to reply to my text, signing his name at the bottom, since Taehyung passed out in the car on their way back home.
I took my medications and started up a game of solitaire while I waited for them to kick in. My psychologist had sent me to Michigan with a three month supply. I was planning my first trip back next week so I could see the boys in time for their first big competition of the season. While I was in town, I would pick up another three month supply. We were making the arrangements work as best as we could, and I was lucky I had a large group of people willing to support me during this transition.
Finally I felt the sleeping pills kicking in and I went to my white noise app. I hated falling asleep in silence and Emery had suggested the app while we were in a session. I paid for a yearly subscription and never regretted the fifty bucks. It had been a huge help in lulling me to bed.
Lights out and blankets wrapped snugly around my body, I closed my eyes and thought about everything that had happened. Jimin liked me back, asked me on a date, and told all of his friends about his infatuation with me before I even realized something else was going on. I was his dream girl. That put a lazy smile on my face. Then, I could no longer think about anything and was plunged into a dreamless sleep.
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Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae @adventures-in-bookland
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© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.
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Text
Five-Point Star: The Aftermath (M) ~Bang Chan
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Pairing: Bodyguard/Assassin!Chan x Mercenary/Assassin!F.Reader Themes: Smut | bit of Fluff | Angst  Word Count: ~17k | AO3 Synopsis: After months of hindering a mercenary’s attempts to get to the person Chris was hired to protect, after months of many fights, injuries, and plotting, he had expected for the resolution to be much more satisfactory than this. [This is the second and hopefully final part to Five-Point Star]. Warnings: pet names · cold weapons · firearms · questionable morals · graphic depictions of violence · mentions of cheating [not involving the main characters] · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · open-ish ending.
Author’s Note: here’s the promised second part to FPS! i just couldn’t bring myself to leave these two the way i did in part 1… like, part 1 can totally stand as its own thing, but i HAD to have some closure. i’ve been working on this one for quite some time, so here it is! i hope you enjoy it💜 especial thanks to @notastraykid & @channieskies for beta-reading this one💜
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Part 1 | Part 2 (you're here!)
Smut Warnings: fingering [F.Rec] · oral [F.&M.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv] · no thoughts, head empty sex [aka having sex in questionable locations].
Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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After months of hindering a mercenary’s attempts to get to the person Chris was hired to protect, after months of many fights, injuries, and plotting, he had expected for the resolution to be much more satisfactory than this.
Well, he wasn’t sure if this was a resolution, if the problem had been eradicated or not… He wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Seungmin, along with Chris and his team, had nicknamed that mercenary the Wraith, since it was hard to predict when they would strike, and it was pretty much impossible to find traces of their identity no matter how hard they tried. 
Whenever Chris managed to once again frustrate the Wraith’s attempts at–presumably–harming Seungmin, there simply weren’t any signs that they’d been there in the first place at all. Well, save for any injuries Chris sustained during their encounter.
He had no doubt as to what drove the Wraith to do what they did–or at least he thought he didn’t have any. This hadn’t been the first time someone had been hired to do something to Seungmin. After all, being the child of one of the most powerful families in the city certainly put a target on his back. However, this had been by far the most difficult enemy Chris and his team had to deal with.
It was frustrating, really. The Wraith seemed to always be one step ahead of them no matter how hard they tried to keep the young Kim’s schedule and plans a secret. It wasn’t until they discovered that the phone of Seungmin’s personal tailor–Hyunjin–had been wiretapped, that they were finally able to get the upper hand.
Chris had conjured this plan to get the Wraith to believe Seungmin would be attending an event in one of the oldest theatres in the city. There, Chris would be waiting for them. 
He’d admit he was cocky. He’d asked his team to not come with him, he’d told them he had to do this alone, giving them a bullshit excuse.
‘If we’re all there, Seungmin won’t be as protected as he should be, so I’m gonna be there on my own while you guys make sure he’s safe’, that was exactly what he’d told them back then, but, in reality, Chris just wanted to do this on his own because his own pride was hurt.
Chris was decent at his job. Sometimes–admittedly most times–he even believed he was good at it. But in the deep recesses of his mind, he couldn’t help but feel like the Wraith was better than him. It was more than obvious. If they hadn’t been, he would’ve been able to kill them on their very first encounter. 
Regardless, he’d gone to the theatre on his own, where he waited for the Wraith to make their expected appearance. He figured that playing the piano would elevate his plan. He hoped it’d give his opponent the impression that nothing was out of place, that this was a normal concert, and they had nothing to be suspicious of.
Funny thing, how after so many months of pushing and pulling, it was almost like Chris could already tell when the Wraith was close. So the moment they’d stepped into the hall, he’d immediately stopped his piece and shot on sight. 
It all became a blur of flying knives and missed shots, until there was no other option but to physically fight. 
The Wraith was better than Chris, and he came face to face with this fact the moment his back had hit the floor and a knife had been pressed to his neck. He’d been, once again, defeated. He was blinded by rage, by frustration…
How could this person be better than him? No one had been until this point. Sure, he’d sustained many injuries throughout his career as Seungmin’s personal bodyguard, and he’d certainly been close to dying many times, but the Wraith had managed to beat him every single time they met. It irked him beyond belief.
Chris liked to cover his face when he was on duty, at least when he was out in public. He didn’t want people to know his face, he liked to be able to go to the grocery store or meet his girlfriend without having to worry about someone recognising him and trying to kill him, so he wore his mask diligently.
But, of course, his opponent had to remove it.
Of course they wanted to see his face, it made sense to him. But the fact that it made sense didn’t diminish the blow to his pride, though.
‘…Chris?’
No one had ever spoken his first name out loud while he’d been on duty outside of the Kims’ estate. Not even his team members, they knew not to expose him like that. He liked to keep his civilian side and his professional side separated, so he figured he’d give some use to both of his given names. 
Which was why, hearing it in that context, from the Wraith, made his blood freeze in his veins. He was beyond confused, borderline panicking, but even then, the voice sounded… familiar.
Chris realised then he’d never heard the Wraith speak. And as he looked into their eyes, even the shape of their eyebrows–the only discernible feature on their face under the hood and kerchief they wore to keep the rest concealed–recognition started to settle in his brain.
But there was no way. It couldn’t have been… 
His opponent was stunned, as was he. But that didn’t stop him from slowly reaching for that kerchief covering half of their face so he could pull it down.
Nothing would’ve prepared Chris for what he’d find under that piece of fabric. 
Chris always loved to see his girlfriend whenever he could. It was honestly a miracle that he was able to have a relationship in the first place, but she’d just made it so easy from day one, so he always tried to make time and space for her in his life. Seeing her always brought him this immense sense of comfort and familiarity that just couldn’t be matched.
However, this was a setting in which he would’ve never expected to see her face. This didn’t feel comforting at all.
Your name came out of his mouth in a breathless whisper, almost as if he needed to say it outloud for his brain to truly process that it was you on top of him, pressing a knife to his throat. His head started to spin right then and there.
Had you… had you known all this time? Had you been using him? There was no way. Something in the back of his mind told him it was just impossible. He’d been careful…
The few times he actually wanted to reveal his profession to you, something always seemed to prevent him from doing so, and he always took it as a sign that it wasn’t the right time. But maybe you’d known who he was this whole time…
‘I had no idea…’
The look on your face, coupled with the way your voice trembled, made him believe you. And maybe, he wanted to believe you. There was no way the love you’d shown him all these months could be faked, not when it’d felt so genuine…
How fucking twisted… What were the odds of you being both his girlfriend and one of the most annoying mercenaries he’d had to deal with?
God, these past handful of months… He’d been dealing with you.
He’d been trying to kill you.
He’d aimed and shot and hit you with the intent of killing you.
Chris wanted to vomit. He was disgusted with himself, confused, he wanted to cry. This was all so absurd and cruel… It’d been a long time since he’d felt this way, but at that moment, he genuinely just wanted to die.
He was used to killing and hurting people. He was never fazed by any of it at this point, but he’d done it because he wanted to protect the people he cared about. You being on the receiving end of this treatment was just completely wrong. You were one of the people he cared about. He’d never wanted anything other than to protect your safety and wellbeing. 
Chris was a firm believer that men who mistreated their loved ones were just scum, that they deserved to die. He’d often killed men like these and felt absolutely no remorse about it.
But now he was one of those men.
How could he go on after this? After knowing what he’d done to you? He couldn’t… He didn’t want to.
At that moment, he firmly believed he deserved to die. He’d hurt you, not only that, but Seungmin’s life was way more important than his own, so if you absolutely had him as your target, he’d just have to continue fighting against you.
And, again, he didn’t want to…
So he asked you to kill him.
However, you refused.
The fact that you wouldn’t take his life puzzled him. How could you not want him dead? After all that had transpired, why wouldn’t you? 
Chris had always known he wasn’t a good man. At least, not in the eyes of some. But, he’d made it his mission to be a good man to you, for you… And, most times, when he was with you, he truly felt like he was. 
This changed it all. His own perception of himself had just been shattered to pieces. Who was he now? Who were you?
‘Baby…’ Chris honestly almost started sobbing when you called him that. It was his preferred pet name, he’d told you many times before how much he liked it, how it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside… Right at that moment, it didn’t make him feel that way. It felt like one of your knives had just stabbed his heart. ‘I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ll make it to our vacation this weekend’.
Oh, that stung.
Your vacation this weekend… He’d planned it all out. A relaxing getaway to the coastside, perfect for enjoying each other’s company… He’d even wanted to seriously tell you everything about this side of his life, and if you’d been fine with it, he wanted to ask you to move in with him.
Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen now.
Chris was too stunned to move from his place on the floor. Too stunned to move and do anything to stop you from leaving. He was torn, confused, he was here to kill the Wraith, and not only did he not achieve that, he’d also found out that the person he’d been trying to kill was one of the people he loved most in this world.
The rage he felt coursing through him was uncontainable. So much so, the moment he did manage to stand up from that floor, he started thrashing the stage.
Every piano had been turned to nothing but a pile of useless pieces of wood and ivory. He’d emptied his guns by shooting at the seats and walls. He did all that as tears wouldn’t stop running down his cheeks.
How fucking pathetic.
He was pathetic.
Even when he had composed himself enough to return to the Kims’ estate, Chris still felt like he was nothing but the worst man on the planet, like he was useless as a bodyguard, like he was useless as his loved ones’ protector, and like he’d become the universe’s punching bag…
“Based on that look on your face, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you didn’t get the target?” Felix’s voice greeted him as soon as he entered Seungmin’s home, further aggravating those feelings inside of him.
“No, I didn’t”, was the only thing he said to the younger man as he walked past him and made his way straight to his assigned room. 
Chris was in no condition to speak of the matter. He needed to sort his thoughts out. He knew he had to tell his team about what happened, he had to tell them who you were. He had more than enough information about you to finally stop you from getting any closer, he had enough information to end you.
As he entered his room and started taking his gloves off, as he looked at the tiny plastic gnome figurine he kept on this room’s bedside table, Chris wasn’t really sure he’d be able to do any of that.
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The sound of choked coughs filled the previously quiet space.
Chris sat up abruptly on the bed, coughing violently since he, once again, had choked on his spit in his sleep.
With a trembling hand, he reached for the bottle of water he kept next to the bed. When the coughing had lessened, he chugged half the bottle in one gulp. 
‘You should really go to the doctor’s, baby…’
Your voice resonated in his mind, an echo of the mix of memories from the numerous times you’d woken him up before he started coughing. He remembered the gentle murmur like it’d been whispered to him yesterday. He could practically feel the soft caresses of your fingertips on his back.
It made him feel like his throat was closing for real.
After placing the bottle back on the bedside table, he plopped back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Chris couldn’t help but remember you. It seemed like it was all he did these days. 
His brain was certainly his worst enemy, especially at times like these, when he wasn’t on active duty, when he was just trying to get a few hours of sleep in his assigned room. Within the solitude of these four walls, it was easy for his brain to attack him, to send him in a spiral of memories that did nothing but make his heart ache and his eyes sting…
“Aaahhh… The food was absolutely delicious”, you rubbed your belly as you walked, with a big smile on your face. “I feel like I’m about to burst… But seriously, though, you should’ve at least let me pay for my food”.
Chris looked at you, amused at how you slightly swayed side to side with each step. He, too, felt like he was about to burst. The meal had been good, it’d been amazing, but… the company had certainly been much better.
When was the last time he felt like this? This… calm? Calm, but somehow still a bit giddy. He genuinely couldn’t recall…
“Nonsense”, he waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss the thought. “I invited you for dinner, didn’t I? ‘Least I could do was pay”.
You turned to look at him, pouting, and it was honestly… adorable.
You were adorable, he’d known this since the very first day he met you, but every time he saw you after that, you somehow managed to step it up a notch. And he truly couldn’t cope.
Chris could hardly believe he was here tonight, having a date, and with a person he genuinely liked at that. It’d been a long time since he’d done anything remotely close to going on a date, but a few nights ago, after spending another evening talking to you at one of his friend’s gatherings, he found himself asking you out before he could stop himself.
It was unplanned, uncalculated, which was so unlike him… He always tried to plan ahead. Considering the profession he was in, he had to carefully choose who he associated himself with. Chris hardly ever mingled with civilians, but when he did, it was usually with this particular friend group from his childhood, who you seemed to also be acquainted with through a friend of yours.
The first time he spoke with you, he thought he was making a fool of himself, but as the night progressed, something started to linger between you two… Call it tension, or chemistry, but he was certainly intrigued.
Every time he went to his friend’s house to socialise, you were there. And every time, his always ended up with him sitting next to you, talking well into the wee hours of the night, about the silly shows you watched, or anything you felt like talking about, really.
Chris genuinely enjoyed talking to you, which he figured was exactly the reason why he’d asked you out on a date. He was honestly tired of seeing you only in the confines of his friend’s fence, it just wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
“C’mon, no pouts”, Chris chuckled, taking your hand. You seemed to be a bit surprised at the action, and, being honest, he was surprised at the action. But he’d already done it, so he wouldn’t back down. Thankfully, even if it had surprised you, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you intertwined your fingers with his, effectively agitating the butterflies in his stomach. “Let’s take a walk, hm?”
With leisure steps, you walked until you found yourselves at the pier. There were people here, but it wasn’t overly crowded, which Chris was grateful for.
Just before you both made it to the railing so you could look at the sea, you exclaimed an excited ‘Oh!’, and bent down to pick up something from the ground.
“Look!” You showed Chris what you found, and he couldn’t keep the smile from forming on his lips. “It’s just a little guy!”
Chris chuckled at your outburst. He giggled. You’d just made him giggle… When was the last time he giggled like this? “It really is!”
“D’you wanna give him a home?” You wiggled the figurine in front of him. “I heard these can be tokens of good luck”.
Chris immediately extended his palm, and you carefully placed the plastic toy in his hand. A gnome, around half the size of his finger. For having been found on the ground, it didn’t look in bad shape, it was honestly cute, so he put it in his pocket, and placed his hand over his heart after.
“Promise I’ll take good care of him”, Chris smiled at you. “I do need some luck”.
You chuckled at that, before you tugged him along so you could finally make it to the railing. With your elbows propped on it, you both spent a good while there, just talking, joking, and enjoying the sound of the waves crashing against the breakwater.
It was… nice. Relaxing, even. 
He didn’t really know how he found himself standing so close to you, moving a few strands of hair away from your face and caressing your cheek with his knuckles. Most shockingly to him, was how you let him do these things. You looked comfortable, like you were genuinely enjoying spending time with him.
“If I tried to kiss you… would you let me?” The words escaped from somewhere deep within him. A question that he’d had in the back of his mind every time he looked at your lips, every time he saw you smile or laugh. He’d never thought he’d say it out loud, but here he was, saying them to you directly.
“Yes”, there wasn’t a single gram of hesitation in your voice, although he was sure he could hear a hint of surprise. It was almost like, just as his question, your answer had come out of your mouth before you could stop to think about it.
Your lips were so soft… you tasted like the balm you’d applied a few minutes ago, and the minty gum you’d been chewing earlier. Your cheeks, too, were soft under his palms when he held them between his hands.
Chris was certain you were soft all over. You looked soft, and maybe that was why his hands had found their way to your hips, where he could mindlessly knead the flesh over your jeans while his mouth was too busy getting acquainted with yours.
He pulled away from the kiss briefly, only to be met with a shy smile on your face before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in again. He couldn’t stop the delighted laugh that bubbled within him, nor the way he dived in fully into your kiss.
Maybe that gnome was lucky. Maybe it was thanks to that gnome that he’d somehow managed to come back to his flat accompanied for once. At least the one time he did want to come back with someone…
Chris could barely remember the last time another person was here with him. It must’ve been with one of his siblings, for sure. He had no doubts that he’d never brought anyone he was remotely attracted to in here, but he figured tonight was a night of trying new things.
Like pretending he could be just some guy… that he could be normal.
He hadn’t truly processed what was going on until you were both on his bed, dressed in nothing but your underwear. Propped on his elbows, he just looked at you.
You were wearing a black set, with a repeating pattern of red hearts on both pieces. It was… cute. In his humble–and absolutely correct–opinion, it fit you amazingly, you looked gorgeous under him like this, looking up at him like you genuinely wanted him. Like you saw him.
Which… made him feel nervous. 
Anyone else would’ve told him it was a silly thing to feel in this context. Chris had had plenty of sex in his life, but right here, right now, he wasn’t sure if this was anything like the sex he used to have. It didn’t feel like it, for sure. Mostly because he was feeling things. It wasn’t a chore or a commitment, there was genuine desire spreading within him, and it was a bit scary…
“What’s wrong?” you mumbled, cupping his cheeks.
Chris swallowed, suddenly aware that he’d zoned out for a moment there, long enough for the need reflecting in your eyes to start mixing with concern. Should he tell you what was going through his mind? If he did, would you mind…?
Tonight was indeed a night of firsts, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to open up fully. It was enough of a miracle that he’d let you into his flat, that he himself had willingly brought you here after a date.
“I…” Chris figured there were things he shouldn’t talk about just yet, but he really, really liked you, so saying something that was true, without revealing any details of his past, felt right. And he did just that. “I haven’t really… It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, okay? I guess I’m just… a bit out of my element”.
“Oh…” Your eyes widened in surprise, and your hands moved away from his face to rest on his shoulders instead.
Fuck… He fucked up. He probably shouldn’t have said that. Why did he have to be honest? He should’ve pretended, like he always did…
“Yeah, sorry to be a disappointment”, he chuckled, although it didn’t sound very humorous, not even to his ears.
“What? No, no”, you squeezed his shoulders, and your gaze immediately softened. “I’m just surprised! I just wasn’t expecting someone like you to just… y’know, not be having sex”.
That made him chuckle, genuinely this time. “What do you mean? I can’t even believe you’re here. I’ve got no idea how we managed to get to this point, honestly”.
“You’re very charming”, bringing your hands to his face again, you smiled at him. “If it makes you feel any better, I also haven’t… really done this in a while. I don’t usually go on dates at all… but I guess you’ve really made an impression on me. Clearly”.
That did make Chris feel slightly better.
“We don’t really have to do anything, y’know?” You said it very seriously, with no hesitation. “It’s fine by me, really. Although, I’d appreciate some cuddles anyway, if that’s okay with you”.
It was such a simple thing.
He didn’t have to do anything.
He could say no if he wanted to, and, somehow, he knew you’d respect that. Or, at the very least, he wanted to believe you would respect that. You hadn’t shown him any differently so far.
“Oh, we’re definitely cuddling…” Chris dived in, finding your neck with ease to attach his lips to your skin. “Later, though…”
“Later?” You chuckled, burying one of your hands in his hair, and placing the other on his lower back. 
“Mm…” With a trail of kisses, Chris made his way down your neck, your chest, finally using his hands to further push your breasts together so he could bury his face between them. “I really want you”.
And he really, really did. Probably more than he’d wanted anyone in a long time.
“I want you, too”, you replied simply, honestly.
It was one of the things Chris had liked about you since the very first moment he spoke with you. Your honesty, your transparency… you never really seemed to care about keeping pretences, always went straight to the point and voiced your thoughts.
Chris was a taker. He took lives, took money, took territories… he took things from people as he saw fit. Whether it was the right thing to do or not he didn’t care. 
But that wasn’t his inherent nature, and he’d always been painfully aware of this. For a long time, he’d been trained to take things, he was good at it, but, deep down, he was a giver.
To the people that were close to him, to the people that really knew him, he yearned to give all he could offer. 
That night, he really wanted to give you everything. So he did.
It was all so vulnerable, but so exhilarating at the same time. To not feel judged, nor belittled, to be open with his wants and needs, to be consumed by fire and passion… It was something he wasn’t used to, but the more time passed with you two in his bedroom, the more he realised just how much he liked it, how much he liked you…
With the first orgasm he managed to coax out of you, he realised just how much he wanted this to be a thing, he felt that you were just so compatible. Physically, emotionally, and, with a bit of luck, romantically, too.
Even after a couple of hours, when he was already giving you those cuddles he’d promised, when he asked you to stay the night, basking in the post-orgasm buzz, he believed wholeheartedly that this could work.
‘You’ll call me back, right?’ Chris couldn’t help himself when he asked you that the morning after your date.
It was crazy. There was no real space in his life for a relationship, not when he had to hide his profession from you. What would you think of him once you knew that the majority of the time he was a cold-blooded assassin, and not the dorky guy you met through a friend of a friend?
He would’ve liked to be like you. Honest and straightforward, but maybe it was for the best to not mention this just yet. It was only just one date, just one night of quite possibly the most fulfilling sex he’d ever had, but he already knew that this was something he wanted. He wanted to hold onto this feeling for as long as possible, he wanted you.
‘Would you like that?’ You’d asked amusedly, before you kissed him, standing right on the entrance of his flat.
‘I would’. 
You’d smiled at him. After pressing one final kiss on his cheek, you mumbled against his skin. ‘Maybe I will, then…’
And you did.
In recent years, Chris had never felt as happy as he did when he was with you. He wholeheartedly believed that his relationship with you was one of the best things to ever happen to him.
At least, until that night in the theatre.
Reminiscing the past was hard these days, especially after the first month without hearing from you. He’d gone through so many different emotions. He felt angry, sad, and sometimes even betrayed…
He’d always believed you to be a transparent person, and maybe you were, but, just like himself, you clearly wanted to keep this part of yourself in the dark. He supposed he couldn’t blame you, but it still bothered him. 
Why didn’t you tell him before? 
If you’d told him, you would’ve probably never been in this situation. The Wraith’s attacks started well after you’d gotten together, so, if he’d known who you were, and you’d known who he was, he was convinced none of this would’ve happened at all.
Chris would’ve liked to tell you all this, to shout and get all these thoughts and feelings off his chest. But every time he picked up the phone to call you, he chickened out.
At first, he told himself that it was to keep things less complicated. In reality, he just couldn’t stand the thought of the call not going through…
So he didn’t do anything.
He was too tired, and maybe too much of a coward to face this.
Maybe one day, he’d grow the balls to do it. Maybe one day he’d get some sort of closure, but that day clearly wouldn’t be any time soon.
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Chris often spent his nights on patrol around the Kims’ estate. He couldn’t really bring himself to sleep at night, so he was usually working well into the morning, until they changed guard.
Although, no one really dared come here. Since he became one of Seungmin’s personal bodyguards years ago, there’d been only two instances in which someone tried to infiltrate his home. 
Both times, the person had ended up dead, of course. That was the Five-Point Stars’ sole purpose, to keep the young heir safe. Chris was genuinely proud of his team, they always carried out their task without hesitation, and he was convinced their skills were unmatched.
Tonight, though, something didn’t feel quite right. There was this feeling of dread inexplicably pooling in Chris’ stomach, and it was making it really hard to focus on doing his job.
It was close to midnight when the feeling started intensifying, so Chris moved from his post outside Seungmin’s wing of the estate, leaving Jeongin on his own to guard the space. If anything went down, the younger man would be more than capable of taking care of it, Chris was very confident in this, so he felt no reservations when he started patrolling the outer areas.
After a while of just walking, he just couldn’t ignore his gut feeling any further.
There was someone sneaking around in the Kims’ estate, Chris could feel their every move, but he couldn’t see them, and that made that feeling of uneasiness grow inside him. Not because he was scared, by any means, but because it all felt just how it did whenever he had to deal with the Wraith… whenever he had to deal with you.
Chris hadn’t heard from you in three months, not from the you that was his girlfriend–…ex-girlfriend?–nor the you that was the Wraith. He supposed, ultimately, you were both, just like he was both Chris and Chan, but it was still just so surreal to him…
Three months and his head still couldn’t wrap around the idea that you were both the person he loved, and the one he despised. Anyone that dared come anywhere near Seungmin with ill-intent was an enemy to him, but the more he pondered on the fact that you were doing that, the less he could see you as an enemy… And that, maybe, just maybe, did scare him.
You’d become his weakness, to the point where if he were to see you now, in this estate, trying to kill Seungmin, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to carry out his one and only task. He’d spent these last few months begging to the stars above his head that you wouldn’t try to get to Seungmin again, because he genuinely didn’t know if he’d be able to stop you.
As Chris followed his gut instinct, trying to chase that phantom of a presence that seemed to glide through the corridors, he started to come to terms with the fact that the possibilities of the intruder being you were just way too high, it was all too familiar… 
And he hated it.
He hated it all…
He caught a shadow moving in his peripheral vision, and not even thinking twice about it, he chased it–as quietly and stealthily as his skills let him.
Before he knew it, he had raised his gun and pressed it against the back of the person’s head, right against their hood. They raised both of their hands to signal they didn’t have any weapons at hand, and even if the movement should’ve eased his mind, it didn’t. It only confirmed his worst fear.
Knowing what he knew now, he could just recognise the fingers poking through the gloves’ holes, and the overall frame.
There you stood, after three months of nothing, dressed just how you had been the last time he saw you. Chris tried his best to ignore the lump that seemed to be growing in his throat, the desperate need to both scream and cry and hug you and push you away. 
Instead, he just pressed the muzzle of his gun a bit harder against your skull, taking a deep breath before he spoke. “What’re you doing here?”
Your shoulders seemed to relax the tiniest bit as you heard the sound of his voice, which, in other circumstances, Chris would’ve deemed a very foolish reaction on your part. But, being honest, he wouldn’t be surprised if you already knew it’d be incredibly hard for him to harm you.
“Looking for you”.
Cursed be his heart for jumping in his ribcage, it was almost embarrassing how quickly and easily the sound of your voice was able to kick-start it into a messy, erratic pace. Chris couldn’t let that show, though. He needed to bluff, and he needed to do it well. 
“Bullshit”, he swallowed, trying to get rid of that knot in his throat. It just made it worse. “What are you truly here for?”
Your shoulders rose and fell with your deep breath, and slowly, so very slowly, you started to move, to turn around so you could finally be face to face with him. You kept your hands up in the air, to show him you weren’t going to attack, but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not any more than it already was.
As usual, the lower part of your face was covered by a black kerchief, and the hood of your outfit almost fell over your eyes. The sight was almost revolting, if he thought about it too deeply… His gun raised, pressed against your forehead, ready to be shot at any second. It was something out of his worst nightmares, of those that showed him himself hurting the people he loved.
“I’m telling you the truth, I’ve been looking for you. I’ve come to warn you”.
“Warn me?” The statement was so unexpected Chris couldn’t even hide the surprise in his voice, but he recovered quickly, trying to mask his emotions with a condescending scoff. “What could you possibly need to warn me about?”
“They’re coming for you”, you said simply, your eyes unwavering as they stared deeply into his.
“They being?”
“The Guild”, your fingers moved, but you weren’t doing anything particularly malicious, you simply used your thumb to crack each knuckle, a gesture he knew you did only when you were nervous.
You must’ve known he knew this detail about you. He’d tried to stop you from cracking your knuckles many times in the past, whenever you were watching a scary movie that made you anxious, or whenever you had to order at a new restaurant. Back then, he would always take your hand in his, and drag his thumb on the back of it to help ease those nerves.
Chris couldn’t do that now.
To display such weakness in front of him messed with his head. Were you doing it out of real nervousness, or were you doing it as a tactic to distract him…? 
Regardless, he knew of the Guild. He’d heard of them before. Essentially a hub of guns-for-hire, with an extensive catalogue of many different mercenaries, who specialised in different activities. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was who you really worked for, that it’d been through them that you were hired to get to Seungmin.
“Someone has been hired to do what I couldn’t do. I heard them talking and I just… I felt like I needed to warn you”.
“You could’ve just called, why come all the way here for that?” Chris’ arm was getting tired from holding up the gun, but he just couldn’t lower it.
“I tried”, you sighed. “I tried, but you wouldn’t pick up, so I came here…”
Chris’ eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You called? There was no way… He would’ve seen it. Hell, he would’ve picked up. Unless… “When did you call?”
“Around thirty minutes ago”.
That’d explain why he wouldn’t have heard it. He never carried his personal mobile phone with him when he was on duty–or at least he tried not to. He used to do it a couple of times a week, on the days that he missed you, that he wanted to know anything that had been going on in your day–what you ate, what you were doing, what you were watching, anything that could make him feel close to you… He hadn’t done that in three months.
“And it couldn’t wait?” Chris was doing an excellent job at keeping the scowl on his face and the annoyed tone in his voice, probably because he was feeling exactly like that. Annoyed. “You tried to hurt Seungmin and now you care about what happens to him? Hard to believe”.
“I don’t fucking care about Seungmin”, your eyebrows knitted together, and in a movement way too fast for someone that had a gun pointed to their forehead, you pulled your kerchief down, revealing your face fully to him.
It was almost pathetic how his heart skipped a beat at the sight.
“I’ve got no ill feelings towards the kid, truly, but I also don’t really care about him. The people talking… They said they were going for Seungmin’s guard dog first, in hopes of debilitating his security system, so I… I just…”
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. When you opened them again, the glint of vulnerability shining in your gaze made his heart ache.
“I know it’s crazy, fuck… I didn’t think this through. They’re planning on striking sometime this week, and I just felt like I needed to come and tell you, so you could be prepared”.
Chris swallowed thickly. His hand trembled the tiniest bit, he wasn’t sure if you could feel his gun tremble against your skin, too. “If any of this is true, how could I even know you’re not here to distract me from doing my job? That this isn’t one of your schemes?”
“You can’t know”, you said, matter-of-factly. “There’s no way for you to confirm what I’m saying is true. All you can do is trust me and my word. I dropped the job after our encounter in the theatre. I just can’t do it when I’m this emotionally involved”.
When I’m this emotionally involved…
When I’m…
I’m…
I am…
I am…
I am…
Present tense.
You said that in present tense, like you were… like you were still emotionally involved.
Chris was weak. He was weak for you. Three months with no contact couldn’t change that, the fact that you had tried to kill him couldn’t change that, and the fact that he had tried to kill you also didn’t seem to be able to change that.
He was weak, and he couldn’t hide it.
With a sigh, he lowered his gun, and your frame immediately relaxed as soon as the weapon wasn’t pointed in your direction. “How infuriating…”
“What? Me? Or the people coming for your boss?” There was the tiniest bit of a humorous tone in your voice, and it just made him sigh again.
“Both”, he took his communicator from his belt, and clicked the communication button to speak with his colleague. “SpearB, do you copy? Over”.
There were a few seconds of silence, until the communicator crackled and Changbin’s voice resonated from the device. “I hear you, Channie. Over”.
You arched an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest, mouthing a ‘Channie?’ at him, which Chris decided to ignore completely. 
“Check in with Yongbok and make sure the perimeter is secure. Something doesn’t feel quite right, so we need to keep a close eye on each and every entrance. Over”.
The device crackled again. “You think it’s the Wraith? Over”.
Chris looked at you, and you looked right back at him. Your body was tense once again, and a spark of doubt flashed in your eyes. Licking his lips, he clicked the button on the device once more. “No. No, I don’t think it’s the Wraith. Just do what I said, and let me know if you find anything out of order. Over”.
‘Roger that. Over!’ was the last thing Chris heard from Changbin. He returned the communicator to its holster on his belt, all without taking his eyes from you.
There was a moment of silence, a moment that seemed to be stretching far too long for his liking, so he cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “So… You’ve delivered your message. What now?”
You attempted to pop your knuckles again, the action obviously gave no results, since you’d done this already earlier, but Chris knew that wouldn’t stop you. It never did, your nervous habits always shone through.
You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, a door opened somewhere in the area, and the sound of Changbin’s whistling filled his ears. Your eyes widened, just like Chris’ did as you stared at one another.
This was dangerous. If anyone saw you, you were at risk of being tortured for information, or straight up killed because of your numerous attempts to hurt Seungmin.
Chris wasn’t thinking, he just had to act, and he had to do it fast. Taking your hand, he quickly pulled you further down the corridor, where he could push you against the wall, right behind a column to hopefully hide you both from his teammate. 
You opened your mouth again to say something, and Chris simply placed a hand over your mouth to stop you, bringing his index finger to his lips to signal you to not make any noise. 
As the sound of steps drew closer, Chris mindlessly pressed you further against the wall, hopefully minimising the chances of Changbin seeing you.
He held his breath, waiting patiently as he looked at the shadows his friend’s body casted against the nearby wall. 
When it seemed like the steps were becoming more and more distant, Chris looked back at you, and only then did he realise just how close you both were. Your bodice was rigid against his chest, and the handles of your knives poked his abdomen. Noses almost brushed against each other, the hand he’d placed on the wall was itching to hold your waist, and as he looked into your eyes, as he saw galaxies and a plethora of feelings swimming in them, he was almost winded by how warm you felt. 
Chris could barely hear Changbin’s footsteps over his heart beating this fast and loud in his ears.
Fuck, he was a weak man. 
A weak man who was still hopelessly in love. 
It took a couple of minutes for Changbin to finally leave the area completely, his exit was signalled by the sound of a door opening and closing. Just to be safe, though, he kept quiet for a while longer, he kept pressing you against the wall and his hand firmly on your mouth.
Just to be safe… No other ulterior motives at all…
After a few moments, he finally removed his hand away from your mouth, slowly, so very slowly moving it to rest against the wall instead, right next to your waist as well. You mindlessly licked your lips as soon as his hand was off your face, and Chris couldn’t help but focus on the movement. 
Oh, your lips… how he missed them… He missed the way they moved with every word you said, how you would mindlessly chew on them when you were focused, how they felt like against his own, against any and every part of his body… 
“Why are you here?” Chris’ voice was barely a whisper. He didn’t intend for the words to come out unsteady, nor for his hands to start trembling slightly against the wall, but it was hard for his body not to react this way when he’d spent all these weeks just steeping in his own misery. 
You took a deep breath, your chest rose and fell against his own, and right then, with the barely there illumination of the bulbs on the roof, he could see your eyes start to shine with the tears that welled in them. 
“Because I care about you”, you said it so easily, like you weren’t just reaching inside his ribcage and squeezing his weak little heart with such a simple statement. “I know it’s stupid. That it’s insane, considering everything that’s happened. But I really can’t help it. Every day, all I can think about is how you’d be. If you’re eating well, if you’re getting enough sleep… And I hate it”.
You were trying really hard not to let the tears fall, it was obvious to Chris, yet your voice didn’t waver, not a little bit.
“I hate that I worry about you knowing what I’ve done to you. I hate that I can’t stop caring. When I heard them talking tonight about how they wanted to hurt you I just… I couldn’t think straight, I had to do something”, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the wall.
Chris couldn’t say anything. He just couldn’t. He wanted to tell you that he couldn’t stop caring, either. That he felt guilty, yes, but he still cared. That he’d always care, but the words just wouldn’t come out.
When you opened your eyes again, those tears you were trying so hard to hold back started to silently fall, and he wanted to cry himself. “Warning you… it’s not much, and it’s probably more a selfish act than anything else, but I had to do it. I had to… had to see you. Because I miss you, Chris, fuck… I miss you so much it hurts more than any blow Chan has ever landed on me”.
Chris was doomed. He was weak, and in love, and he was absolutely doomed.
His brain shut down completely. He knew it the moment he felt his lips on yours, the moment your fingers tangled in his hair and the quietest moan escaped your mouth. 
The kiss was messy and desperate, he couldn’t seem to be able to be any closer to you, and yet he still tried. He held your waist tightly, like you would vanish if he didn’t. He pressed you further against the wall, dizzy with the violent stir of his feelings, with the feel of your tongue against his own and your yearning kiss.
At that moment, the fact that he was Chan, bodyguard of Kim Seungmin, didn’t matter. The fact that you were the Wraith, an assassin that had been hired to harm the person he was supposed to protect, didn’t matter, either. All that mattered was that he was Chris, that you were you, and that he’d missed you and that he needed you.
When he pulled back from the kiss, panting slightly, the sight of you, all flustered, breathless, of your blown pupils, was enough for his walls to crumble. That look in your eyes was unmistakable to him, it set his insides alight and sent his mind into overdrive.
“Come with me”, without hesitation, Chris took your hand and tugged you along the corridor.
He vaguely recalled taking his communicator and calling Jeongin to ask him to continue covering for him as there was something he needed to attend to, just like he vaguely recalled the younger man telling him he had it covered. The only thing he could register for sure was the tight hold of your hand in his, and the moan that came out of your lips when he pushed you into one of the supply closets and kissed you again.
Chris blindly reached for the lightswitch before he pushed you against the closest wall. One of your legs wrapped around his hip to pull him closer to you, and he immediately took a hold of your thigh to keep you securely in place.
“Have you… been with anyone after…” You started to ask, your words broken between desperate presses of lips and tugs of teeth.
How absurd. As if he could have. As if he would’ve ever even wanted that in the first place… Regardless, even with the hazy state of his mind, he knew exactly why you were asking, so he shook his head. “Have you?”
You shook your head as well, further pulling on his hair so your lips wouldn’t detach from his. Although there was a part of him that kind of expected you to not have been with anyone, it still made him feel relieved. It made him feel… hopeful.
What a dangerous emotion to feel.
Letting go of your thigh so he could free his hands, your leg fell to the floor while Chris unbuttoned his gloves. “Are you still on birth control?”
“Yes”, your reply came immediately, eagerly, and his mind just fogged up further.
“Good”, he pulled his gloves off and dropped them somewhere on the floor.
With a tight hold on your hips, he flipped you around and pulled your hips back a bit towards him, so your ass could be flush with his crotch. Chris kept kissing your cheek, your neck, any bit of exposed skin he could, just as you ground your backside against his growing erection, while he frantically fumbled with your belt buckle and the buttons of your trousers.
“How many fucking buttons does this thing have?” Chris mumbled against your skin, quickly popping open what seemed like hundreds of studs. “How impractical…”
“Looks better than a zipper–Oh!” 
Chris pushed your bottoms down as soon as he’d popped open the very last button, just enough to expose the delectable flesh of your ass to his hungry eyes. He wanted to smack the luscious fat so badly, but even in his desperate state, he knew it was a really, really bad idea, so he settled for holding one of your buttocks tightly with one hand, while he brought the other close to your face.
“Open up, bun”, your lips parted as soon as he’d asked you to, and he quickly pushed two fingers inside your mouth.
A moan muffled against his digits when you sucked on them, and Chris could almost start feeling his head spin with arousal. God, your mouth… He’d always known it’d be the death of him one day…
“That’s it, baby. Make sure you get them drenched”, after letting go of your buttock, he hastily unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and pushed the zipper down so he could reach inside his underwear and finally free himself. 
The air was cool against his heated flesh, especially at the tip where pre-cum had started to leak. He pumped himself a couple of times, it was nowhere near as satisfactory as he knew your cunt would be, but it was certainly a pleasant warm-up.
As soon as he removed his fingers from your mouth, he brought them to your centre, where he made sure to coat his fingers in your essence to spread it all around your opening before he finally stuffed those two digits into you. You bit your lip to muffle the noises threatening to escape your throat, leaning your forehead against the wall as Chris tried his best to prep you in such an unfortunate setting.
“Tell me if it hurts. Hm? You know you can tell me, right?” Chris whispered in your ear, and you immediately nodded in response.
“Just… Fuck, just get inside, baby, please”, how could he stall any further when you sounded so eager and desperate for him, in the same way that he was for you? When you called him ‘baby’?
So he pulled his fingers out, making you whine at the loss of contact. It didn’t last long, though, because he stepped closer almost immediately after. He spat on his hand, and smeared his saliva all over his length before he lined himself with your entrance.
As he started to push in, he brought his free hand to your front, finding your clit with expert ease, rubbing slow circles on it to hopefully aid his intrusion. There was a whine, a quiet one, and Chris hushed you, kissing your cheek. 
“It’s okay, baby. You’re doing well, so well. Remember to tell me if it’s too much…” He mumbled. It was almost funny how quickly he got into his role, he was so used to treating you like this, to checking in on you, that not even the place you were in, or the outfits you were wearing could stop him from doing it. All he got from you was a nod, a sigh that vaguely sounded like his name, and a push of your hips. “Impatient, bun? Hungry for my cock, are you, baby?”
You nodded, pushing back as much as you could to get him all the way in, making him hiss. “I am. I fucking am. Need you to fuck me, and I need it now, Christopher”. 
“Fuck…” It was an awkward angle, but he needed to kiss you. There was hardly anything he enjoyed more than kissing you while he was balls deep inside your warmth. Every push of his tongue, every bite on his lips, everything made it so your walls continuously clamped around him, all of it combined made him delirious, and even more so when he finally started to move.
Chris was trying his best to go slow, his mind was hazy with lust and need and want, but he still wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you. You, however, weren’t making it easy. You pushed back to sharply meet his calculated thrusts, and all he could do was match your pace, until the only noise in the room were the contained groans and moans and the obnoxious clattering of metal as both of your belt buckles swayed with your movements.
His fingers sped up, and very quickly, the obscene sounds produced when your bodies met joined the messy symphony playing all around you. Your grip on his hair was tight, the way your moans were catching in your throat was getting him impatient, he wanted to hear you properly, he wasn’t used to you holding back, and the sudden increased speed of his motions felt like it was his subconscious desperately trying to pull all those delicious sounds out of you.
He was talking. He knew he was talking, but he could barely hear what he was mumbling to you, all he knew was that, whatever it was, it had you whining quietly, meeting his thrusts harder, mumbling things back to him. 
Chris wanted to feel more of you, as much as he could, so he pulled his vest up, and took the hem between his teeth. He couldn’t talk like this, but he figured it was a small price to pay so he could feel your bottom freely bounce off his skin. Returning his hand to your hip, he held your soft flesh tightly, relishing the way the flesh dipped under his grip.
“C–Chris… Gonna–gonna come…” Your fingers flexed against the wall in what looked like a futile attempt to get a hold of something, to keep yourself grounded.
He wanted to tell you to come. Hell, he needed you to come around his cock right now or he would die, he was sure. But he couldn’t speak with the stupid fabric in his mouth, so he simply fucked you harder, faster, diligently rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs in that way he’d learnt to do throughout your numerous intimate encounters since the very beginning of your relationship.
Your relationship…
Were you two still in a relationship?
In all honesty, right then, with your presence consuming him, he hoped you were. 
The sight of you biting your fist to keep your moans contained, coupled with the feel of your warmth fluttering around his length as a result of your orgasm, made him lightheaded. His pace didn’t relent, though. He fucked you through it, just how he knew you liked it, while you did your best to weakly keep meeting his movements.
His lower abdomen tightened, he could feel his own climax nearing increasingly fast, and God, if he wanted that feeling to wash over him right the fuck now… 
He finally let go of the hem of his vest so he could speak. “Where–Shit… Where do you want it, pretty?”
At this point he would come anywhere, in you, on you, out of you… But he needed to do what you wanted, and what you wanted became painfully clear to him when you hastily removed one of your gloves, pushed him away from you a bit, and dropped to your knees.
Oh, how he’d missed the feel of your hand on him, and the squelching sounds it made when you jerked him off while he was still covered in your juices. You held him with that perfect pressure that you’d learnt to use all those months ago, looking up at him with dark eyes and your moist lips slightly parted as you still tried to catch your breath.
“Look at you, fuck–!” Chris threw his head back the moment you took him in your mouth, getting in as much of him as you could while gently squeezing his balls.
You hummed around his length, trying to get his attention, so Chris opened his eyes again, finding that look in your eyes that always got him close, the one that begged him to move. So he did, placing a hand on your head and shallowly thrusting into your mouth to complement your own movement.
“Fuck, bun… Gonna blow, shit–”
It was his turn now to bite his fist to contain his desperate noises. Three months of tension seemed to evaporate from his body when he found his release. He could only feel the tingles of pleasure shooting to every one of his limbs as your lips dragged around his cock, as you hummed and moaned in your own bliss.
His legs felt like they were going to give out, his arms felt like jelly, and his brain was void of anything other than you and your devious mouth. For a second, Chris wondered if you were going to try to overstimulate him, but you didn’t. You simply got your mouth off of him to lick the remnants of his cum that beaded at the tip.
Before he could even think about it, he was already helping you to your feet. Cupping your cheeks, he kissed you. Slowly, deeply, getting the combined taste of him and you from your lips and your tongue.
Your arms wrapped around his waist, and Chris wrapped his around your neck as he waddled forward to press you against the wall again. Partially because he enjoyed the feeling of it, partially because he felt like his legs were really going to give out, and the wall certainly provided much needed support.
As his kiss slowed into simple pecks of his lips on yours–and yours on his–the haze that seemed to have clouded every single one of his senses started to clear up.
In what was quite possibly the worst case of post-nut clarity he’d ever experienced, it started to dawn on him just how stupid and reckless this was. He shouldn’t have brought you in here, the longer you stayed within this estate the more at risk you both were.
You seemed to be coming to the same realisation, because the gentle pecks of your lips on his stopped, and you pulled back to look him in the eyes, nervously chewing on your bottom lip. Your arms unravelled from around his waist, only for your hands to rest on it. “Chris…”
He closed his eyes and sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I know…”
Stupid. You wanted to tell him this was stupid, he didn’t need you to say it to know.
Pressing lingering kisses on your cheek, he pulled up your trousers, and started fastening the trillion buttons, just as you did the same to him. You gently buckled his belt, and it was now your turn to start pressing kisses on his cheek, just as he finished with your belt-buckle.
His heart felt as if it was both swelling with love and being harshly squeezed with agony. 
What was this? What did this mean for you two now? He couldn’t undo the past, what he’d done, what you’d done… It was going to have repercussions, ones he didn’t even want to think about right now.
When he took a step back from your space to finish fixing his clothes, he watched you as you did the same.
“Need to get you out of here”, Chris mumbled, trying to fix the mess his hair had become from your continuous pulling and his own sweat–all that time straightening it this morning for nothing… “You’ve been here for way too long”.
“I can get out. That’s no problem”, you sounded confident in your statement, and, honestly, based on what he’d seen the Wraith do, he wouldn’t really be surprised if it truly was no problem for you to sneak in and out… Good for you, but bad for their security system, he figured…
There was a moment of deafening silence, a moment of you looking into his eyes and Chris looking into yours. Dragging his fingers through his hair, he sighed.
“We need to talk about this. But not now, not here in these… circumstances”.
“I agree”, you replied simply, picking up your glove from the floor and grimacing when you put it on your still sticky hand.
Chris reached for his own gloves he’d haphazardly dropped on the floor earlier, and tucked them in his back pocket before he opened the door and looked out the corridor to make sure no one was there.
Coast clear, so he turned back to look at you. “If… If you want, I’m free tomorrow evening. You could… drop by. After eight, preferably”.
You took a deep breath. It took you a moment to do anything, but when you did, you moved into his space, placing a hand on his chest and the other on the nape of his neck. You leaned in, and pressed a lingering kiss on his cheek.
“After eight”, you confirmed, and it was honestly pathetic how fast his heart started to beat when he heard those two words.
After offering him one last, small smile, you finally removed yourself from his space. Pulling the kerchief back over the lower part of your face, you went through the door and eventually disappeared somewhere by the end of the corridor.
This was completely crazy, insane, and the fact that you were still pretty much considered an enemy in his circle should’ve filled him with anxiety. He’d just had sex with you, after knowing who you were and what you’d tried to do…
And yet, oddly enough, he could only feel relaxed. Like he had finally breached the surface after swimming underwater for too long.
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Seven forty-five in the evening.
Chris had arrived home two hours ago and had done nothing but try to get his flat to look presentable.
When was the last time he slept here? Probably a few weeks ago… It was hard to be in his flat when everything reminded him of you. After all, he’d mostly stayed here when you did.
He honestly hadn’t spent as much time in this flat as he did after he started a relationship with you. He’d been living here for around three months before he went on that date with you. He used to only come here to sleep on his days off, and even those days he tried to spend them out of the flat as much as possible.
After he met you, though, every day off he had he either invited you over, or went to your place. Week by week, the place started filling up with your stuff as well as his. Things you left behind, things you brought on purpose, things he himself placed there, like that one picture you’d asked a stranger to take of you two by the lake in the park… The place was filled with your presence, and being here, on his own, only reminded him of that night in the theatre, of the fact that you weren’t here and what he’d done to you.
Thankfully, the place wasn’t too bad, it was mostly just dusty. Chris didn’t bother hiding anything of yours that was still on display. There was no point in that when his feelings were more than obvious after what happened last night.
So, fifteen minutes before the agreed time, his flat was clean, his hair was damp from the shower he’d just gotten out of, and food had been ordered. He was starving, and, since you had a tendency to not eat dinner because you got too overwhelmed sometimes, he figured ordering for you as well wouldn’t be too risky of a move. Worst case scenario, he’d just have extra left-overs tomorrow…
Seven fifty-two.
Chris looked at himself in his bathroom mirror. His hair was already starting to curl, there was a bit of a flush on his skin still from the hot shower, and he was second-guessing his outfit choice.
A cropped top he’d cut himself out of an old, oversized band t-shirt he’d thrifted, and shorts… Was it too casual? He hadn’t really thought much about what to wear, he had grabbed these on auto-pilot. Whenever you came over, it was usually just to relax and spend some time together, so it was a no-brainer for him to wear these two garments.
That was before, though… What if you came to his door looking like a goddess, all dressed up and he was like this? Would it matter? Would you mind? Three months ago, you wouldn’t have, but three months ago you were still together. Maybe things would be different now…
Seven fifty-eight.
What if you didn’t come? You did say ‘After eight’ before you left the Kim estate yesterday, but what if you changed your mind? It was a complicated situation, after all. Maybe too complicated. Why did he even invite you over? It would’ve probably been best to just meet at a café or a neutral place, why did he even suggest his home for this?
And, most importantly, what did he want from this encounter? Chris hadn’t even thought about it, and, honestly, he kind of didn’t want to think about it. He’d asked you yesterday to come here because he figured talking about whatever the fuck was going on would be the only way to get answers, to get this heavy feeling in his chest to go away, but he hadn’t thought ahead.
You were a mercenary that had tried to hurt Seungmin numerous times, he was risking everything by keeping quiet about your identity, by asking you to come here even knowing who you were. So why? Why would he do this?
The doorbell startled him.
Slightly panicked, he ruffled his hair and looked at himself in the mirror–admittedly, he’d been standing there the whole time, but he wasn’t really looking at anything…
It was too late now for an outfit change, too late to back down from this insanity he himself had started. So, he bolted to the door, and his heart almost leaped out of his chest when he looked through the peephole.
Once Chris opened the door, and came face to face with you, dressed in your comfy clothes, still pretty much looking like a goddess regardless of your outfit, he remembered the reason why he was risking it all. 
Because you made his heart rate spike. You made him feel again. After years of having seemingly nothing but a hole where his heart should’ve been, you had managed to defrost his insides with your warmth. 
“Hey…” You fiddled with the straps of the backpack you always brought along with you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other right where you stood.
“Hey”, Chris wasn’t really sure what to say, he just looked at you for a moment, and you looked right back at him.
Silence enveloped you two. You wouldn’t move, save for your fiddling, just like he wouldn’t, he remained frozen on the spot with the doorknob in his hand. Normally, he would’ve kissed you to greet you, but… should he do that? Was it appropriate? You did fuck last night, but that was a heat of the moment thing… Maybe you wouldn’t want him to kiss you at all.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the delivery guy popped up right behind you, startling the both of you. So Chris just asked you to come in, and quickly got his card from his wallet that he had discarded by the kitchen counter earlier to pay for the food.
“Have you eaten? I ordered some for you just in case…” Chris asked as soon as the guy was gone, just as he placed the food on the counter.
“No, I haven’t”, you replied simply, finally putting your backpack down on one of the chairs. “What’d you order?”
“Cantonese…” Chris didn’t look at you as he took the containers out of the bag, nor did he acknowledge the quiet ‘Oh…’ that came out of your mouth in response. “Wanna eat on the coffee table?”
“Of course”, you said it like it was an obvious thing, and, honestly, it kind of was. Whenever you both met for dinner, especially when it involved your favourite food, you’d always eat at the coffee table, why would it be any different this time? Not like three months had passed since you last spoke or anything…
While Chris brought the containers with food to the table, you got a couple of plates, two glasses, and the necessary cutlery. By the time you were at the table yourself, he had already gone to the fridge and taken the pineapple juice you both liked.
It was all so… normal. Normal, but like things had been placed slightly to the left. The motions were the same, the same routine you had as a couple, but there was something odd lingering between you two, and Chris figured it made sense, all things considered.
When he finally sat down next to you on the floor, with his back against the sofa, you were already serving the food. Chris busied himself pouring the juice, and in no time, you both had started eating. 
It was silent for a while. Well, save for the murmurs coming from the television after you had switched it on for some background noise. Reality was seemingly looming over your heads, or, at least, that was how it felt to Chris. Yet, none of you said anything, you both just ate your food.
It almost felt like an eternity, honestly–even though it’d been probably just shy of ten minutes since you sat down to eat. But, eventually, you took a deep breath, swallowed the food in your mouth, and finally spoke, reaching for your glass of juice.
“I’m sorry this is so awkward… I just don’t know what to say”, you took a sip of your drink, finally looking at him.
Immediately, Chris’ shoulders slumped, and he placed his plate on the table before he turned his body towards you. With an arm on the sofa, he propped his head on his hand while he looked at you. “Me neither, honestly”.
You took a deep breath, chewing your food slowly, deep in thought.
“I’m… I’m gonna be fully honest. I’m tired of secrets. Sick of ‘em. And I feel like you deserve better than that”, you placed your plate on the coffee table as well, and took a napkin to wipe your hands. “I’ll just… I’ll start from the beginning, okay?” 
Chris swallowed, nodding to let you know he was listening.
“It started with my dad…” You wouldn’t look at Chris, you just placed your arms on your bent knees and fixed your gaze on the table. “He joined the Guild when he was a teenager. It was tradition in his family, you see? His mum had been a member for years, so she taught him everything she knew. Eventually, he made a name for himself, and he actually managed to get quite high in the ranks… But then he met my mum”.
You took a deep breath, leaning your head back against the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “He fell deeply in love with her. To the point where he realised he wanted to have a peaceful life, so he retired and did just that. Certified himself as a PE teacher, of all things, and then they had me”.
“Problem was… my mum isn’t exactly a good woman. She wasn’t good to him, or me. When I was still a child, she took everything my dad had and left us both, ran away with some guy she’d met… She’s still with him, last I heard. Good for her, I guess”, you chuckled, a chuckle that lacked any semblance of humour. “After she left, my dad just… he went through a deep, deep depression, lost his job, we could barely make ends meet… That was when he decided to return to the Guild, and, of course, like his mum had done to him, he brought me along…”.
You spoke a lot from then on. How you were taught to fight, how your father passed on to you his stealth technique, which was your signature trait to this day, how many people you’d had to kill, kidnap, or extort. You kept a tally, apparently, which in Chris’ experience wasn’t an uncommon thing to do. He himself kept records of his own milestones, as gruesome as that might sound to some people. It always helped put things into perspective, in a way.
“Seungmin… He was just another target. I wasn’t even going to kill him. I try not to kill when I can. It’s too messy… But, I must admit, at some point I was trying to kill Chan”, you finally turned to look at him, and the pained look in your eyes must’ve been a perfect match to his own. “In all honesty, I’m glad I failed. You’re really good at what you do, you know? If you hadn’t been, I would’ve succeeded, and being honest, I don’t think I would’ve been able to continue going on with my life if I had killed the man I love”.
The man I love…
There you were again, using present tense. Was it stupid of him to feel hopeful about that?
Maybe it was.
Before Chris could say anything, though, you looked away again, straightening your head to reach for your plate of food. “What I told you last night… Dropping the job, in the eyes of the Guild, is a sign of weakness. We are supposed to carry out our tasks or die trying. The fact that it took me so long to do what I was hired to do, and the fact that I essentially gave up, it’s all enough for them to consider me a burden, so I’ll have to either prove my worth again, or they’ll just get rid of me”.
You said it so nonchalantly, like you had accepted this as your fate. And Chris honestly hated it.
“How long do you have to prove it?” He couldn’t help but ask.
You shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I could either be given a super hard task soon, or they could’ve already decided I’m no longer worth their time and just try to kill me. I need to be wary now. You’ve got no idea all the trouble I had to go through just to make sure no one was following me when I was coming here”.
As the guard of Kim Seungmin, as Chan, there was a small spark of pride at the fact that he had managed to stop anyone from doing harm to Seungmin. But, as your boyfriend–ex-boyfriend…?–as Chris, there was also guilt pooling in his gut at the fact that you were now being targeted by your own people because of him.
How fucking convoluted this all was…
You remained silent after that, just slowly putting food into your mouth, chewing leisurely. Chris knew you were waiting for him to speak. You had bared your past to him, and it was now his turn to do the same. 
It wasn’t like he didn’t want to speak, he wanted to do it, he’d wanted to do it for months, way before the theatre situation, way before the Wraith came into his life, back when it was just you and him. But, even though the fact that he’d tried to kill you didn’t seem to have fully pushed you away from him, he was sure that what he was going to reveal to you now could potentially do so. As odd as that might sound…
Chris figured it was now or never. Everything was already complicated, the future of you two was already murky enough, so he took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly only to finally open them again when he started to speak.
“You remember I told you… about my brother and sister, right?” 
You nodded, focusing your entire attention on him.
Chris hadn’t disclosed much of his family or career to you, but he had told you about his siblings. Not in detail, but you were important enough to him that he wanted you to know, especially when sometimes he’d get texts or calls from either of them and he didn’t want you to get the wrong impression when you saw their contact names with hearts and random emojis next to them.
“We didn’t really… have much. Our father abandoned us right after my brother was born. He left my mum on her own to raise three children, one that wasn’t even a month old, while she was still recovering from her difficult pregnancy…” The memory always made him angry, his father embodied everything he ever hated in this world, and whenever Chris thought of him, he had to make the conscious effort to not give into this need of looking for him and give him the beating of his life, preferably kill him if he could… 
Chris shook his head, trying to once again ignore the thought altogether. “Anyway, mum worked really hard to keep us three fed and to give us proper education. She really did her best, and even if we didn’t have much we were at least somewhat pushing through. But…”
It was always hard to talk about these things. Chris hardly ever allowed himself to think of this period of his life. He much preferred to remember his mother as the loving, hardworking woman he knew her to be, but he wanted to tell you this, he needed you to know the whole context, so he kept talking.
“She was sick. We didn’t really know, one day she was seemingly fine and the next she was in a hospital bed, telling me it would all be fine…” It wasn’t fine, clearly. His mother had always been overly optimistic, and even back then he knew this was just her holding onto the foolish hope that she’d make it.
She didn’t.
The very next day, she had passed away, and Chris and his siblings had been entrusted to their uncle.
“It was all so sudden… Very quickly, we realised our uncle just wasn’t a good man. I put myself as the shield between him and my siblings, but even that wasn’t enough. I had to find a way for us to leave, I couldn’t just let my brother and sister live with this guy, it wasn’t safe”, Chris tapped his fingers on his thigh, looking at the only picture of him and his younger siblings he had placed on one of the shelves close to the television.
After a few moments of silence to gather his thoughts, he took a deep breath and started talking again. “I was sixteen, what can a sixteen year old boy do? It was so frustrating, and I was incredibly desperate, so I…” Fuck, this was much harder than he expected it to be, but he swallowed regardless, pushing away the little voice in the back of his mind that urged him to shut up. “Back then, all I had was my charm and my body, you know? So I used just that”.
There were a lot of cruel, disgusting people in this world. People that didn’t even stop to ask how old he was, people who could clearly tell how old he was but weren’t put off by it–on the contrary, those were usually turned on by that fact.
For many years, Chris sold himself to other people. He became whoever they wanted him to become for a few hours, and eventually got himself enough regulars to financially support his siblings and himself. He managed to keep the three of them well fed and studying. 
Only problem was, the psychological toll such a profession took on him was almost immeasurable. It was hard to remain empathetic towards other people when he’d had to constantly experience physical and emotional abuse, when he had to do things he just didn’t want to do every single night. But he had to. For the sake of his siblings and himself, he just had to.
You didn’t seem at all surprised by what Chris was telling you, but he could see the look of disgust on your face. Knowing you, his logical mind told him it had all to do with his clients, with the situation, not with himself. But, there was a small part of him–a very self-destructive part of him–that was sure you’d be disgusted at him. After all, you’d been physically involved with someone who was nothing but a whore for a good chunk of his life, with no knowledge of the fact.
Chris swallowed. His mouth was suddenly dry after telling you all this, so he reached for his glass of juice and drank some to quench that nervous thirst. All while you looked at him, clearly deep in your thoughts.
“Mmm… So that’s why you’d been so insistent on me getting that STD test when we were talking about dropping condoms… Why you were so sure you were clean yourself”, you said simply, just as he was placing his glass back on the table. “Not gonna lie, I found it odd back then, considering most guys don’t really think about that stuff, they just want to get it wet”.
“Yep. I always made sure to be careful and keep that in check. I couldn’t afford to catch something dangerous. Who would take care of my brother and sister then?”
You hummed in understanding, but you didn’t really say anything else, and suddenly looking at your face was too much…
“Honestly, I almost never had unprotected sex with any of my clients, but whenever I did, I was super insistent on this, and old habits die hard, I suppose…” Chris picked at some loose threads of the rug under the coffee table, and he swallowed, avoiding your eyes before he braced himself for what he was about to say. “I’m… By the time I met you, I was no longer an escort, obviously. But you… That night with you after our first date was the first time I was able to actually enjoy sex in a long, long time. It was all just so… intimate. The fact that sex could feel like that… I don’t know, it absolutely blew my mind”.
Chris went silent after that. His fidgeting increased considerably, and very quickly, he realised he was nervous. Even before the whole theatre situation, he’d always been more scared to tell you about this part of his past than his current job. He’d always considered telling you about the Kims, about what he did, but whenever he thought about telling you what he used to do for a living, his mind would always convince him you’d just see him differently, and losing you was something he just couldn’t afford.
Maybe it was silly of him, considering killing people for a living was probably way more morally incorrect than having sex for money, but unlike the former, the latter was something he never truly found pride in. On the contrary, he was ashamed of it.
All of a sudden, Chris felt your hand on his knee, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the movement of your thumb against his skin. It wasn’t until you muttered a soft ‘Hey…’ that he finally pulled his eyes away to look at you instead.
“I hope you know I don’t… I don’t think any differently of you because of your past. You did what you had to do to survive, and that’s completely respectable”, you squeezed his knee a bit, almost reassuringly, and for a moment, Chris feared he was going to cry. “Even knowing what you do now… I get it. I truly do. I’m totally no one to judge, all things considered”.
Once again, you’d shown him why he had fallen in love with you in the first place. And, once again, he couldn’t help but feel that the world was just so unfair.
Out of all people in this whole wide world, why did it have to be you under the kerchief that night…
Chris took a deep breath, looking away from your face to your hand on his knee. Warm, familiar… Your touch seemed to shoot straight to his heart. Without thinking much about it, he placed his hand on top of yours, and held it firmly, as if you would disappear if he let go.
He wanted to tell you more. He didn’t just want to leave it at that, he wanted you to know everything, he needed you to know. So, after a few moments of silence, he started talking again.
“How I transitioned from what I did to working with the Kims was a very circumstantial thing… Turns out one of my clients had business with them. Problem was, he was trying to scam them, which, in retrospect, was very stupid on his part”, he had found himself tangled in this guy’s mess, he was setting Chris up to take the blame, and as soon as he realised that, he immediately ratted the guy out to the Kims.
In doing so, they had offered him not only protection, but also a different career path. 
“They found me a mentor, trained me, all while I was still pretending to be this guy’s fucktoy. And, eventually, when the Kims got what they wanted from him, I got to kill him”, even as he said it, Chris knew a normal person would’ve felt some remorse when telling this story. But he didn’t.
Very quickly after that, he realised that killing, torturing people, deceiving them, were much more dignified ways of using his body and his skills, which was exactly what he told you.
“To me, it feels like the Kims gave me my individuality back. I do what I do because I like it, because I am grateful for what the Kims did for me, and because I feel proud of it, as twisted as that might sound…” Somehow, Chris knew you would understand the feeling, considering what you did for a living yourself. “I’m able to provide for my brother and sister by doing something I can find pride in. I love my team, they’re like family to me as well, but I suppose all these things I learnt throughout the years ended up making me a bit… cold”.
“Oh, I know all about that…” You mumbled, with a small smile on your lips.
Chris chuckled at that, maybe a bit incredulously.
He looked at your face in silence for a moment. There was no judgement in your eyes, and the soft caresses of your thumb on his hand had his heart fluttering in his chest.
“Seriously, though…” Chris said after a while. “When you appeared in my life, I was reminded of how it was like to feel normal. I feel like I’m a bit more human”.
“It’s a very mutual feeling, you know?”
Chris remained silent, looking at you, until your words registered fully, and he offered you a nod. Somehow, what you said had heat pooling on his cheeks, and he looked away from your face to stare at your joined hands.
“I was even… Before it all went down, I was genuinely considering retirement”, taking a deep breath, you brought your free hand to hold his hand between your palms. “I should’ve told you what I did for a living. Maybe this whole thing could’ve been avoided if I had, but I was afraid you’d just… leave”.
“I wouldn’t have”, Chris replied before he could think twice about it, but with the words out there, he realised he meant them. How could he leave? You were just like him, after all.
“I know that now”, your hands were so warm, so familiar… 
“Come here…” Wrapping an arm around your waist, and taking a hold of your thigh, Chris guided your body to move, until you settled on his lap. 
Your hands immediately found his face, just as his arms wrapped around your waist. You looked him in the eyes, in a way that made him feel exposed, like you were reaching deep within his mind and soul. He realised then that he wanted to be exposed. He didn’t want any more secrets or half-truths, you were already his weak spot, so might as well let you fully in. 
“You’re so handsome”, you said all of a sudden, with a bright smile on your lips, and Chris immediately chuckled, looking away and shaking his head. “Don’t laugh! You are”. 
“You want me to blush? ‘Cause it’s working, baby”, Chris tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. With the same motion, he found your earlobe, and he caressed the skin while his other arm was firmly around your waist. 
“Maybe I do want that. It’s my only ulterior motive”, you chuckled, tracing patterns on his cheeks with your thumbs.
“Mmm… Is that so?” Chris supposed this was your way of confirming to him that you, in fact, didn’t have any ulterior motive. He also supposed he could do nothing else but believe you, to trust you.
“Mm”, you leaned in, leaving a tender kiss on his forehead before you pulled back to look him in the eyes again. “It is”.
The warmth of your palms, the soft drag of your thumbs on Chris’ skin, your weight on his lap… All combined had Chris closing his eyes, it had him leaning into your touch, and even questioning if this was a real thing that was happening, if you were truly there. You were. Logically, he knew you were, but it was hard for his brain to catch up with the fact after spending so long doing nothing but yearning for you.
There was a sigh, a sound of relief that further anchored Chris to reality when it came out of your mouth. 
“You, too, make me feel alive. These past couple of months… I’ve just missed you so, so much, Christopher”, your voice was so quiet, it was steady, but Chris could’ve sworn he felt your hold tremble on his face. He didn’t dare open his eyes, just took a deep breath and brought one of his hands to lay on top of one of yours on his face. “I know it’s… weird. All of this. It’s weird and complicated and there’s a lot we’d have to work on, but I… I don’t want to lose you. I can’t”.
Chris could feel your words reach deep within him. They might’ve sparked some doubts, maybe even a bit of anxiety at the prospect of facing the results of both of your actions, but… they also warmed him up from the inside out. 
He figured that, if there had ever been anything worth protecting, what you both had was one of those things, no matter how difficult it could be. And right then, when he finally opened his eyes and looked at your face, he wholeheartedly believed it was possible.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Chris nodded. With a hand on the back of your head, he pulled you closer to him, close so he could press his lips to yours, and the soft whimper that escaped your mouth was enough to make him want to cry right then and there.
Your hands left his face so you could wrap your arms around his neck. With his arms around your waist, he pulled you further into his lap, chest against chest sharing one breath. Your words kept resonating in his ears ‘missed you so, so much…’ Added to the feel of your tongue against his own, to your hand playing with his hair, he was sure his heart was about to burst.
You kissed for a while. Slowly savouring the feel of one another, almost like you both wanted to catch up on all those kisses missed in the past three months. Quiet moans slipped between your lips, his hands roamed your back, confirming that this was, in fact, very real. Even more so when your hips started to roll, grinding against him when his hands settled to squeeze your backside and your thighs.
“Missed you, too”, Chris breathlessly mumbled against your lips, taking a tight hold of your hips to guide your movement. You just nodded and kept kissing him, more frantically this time, and all he could do was match your pace, in hopes to convey just how much he had truly missed you.
His mind fogged up. There was nothing but you, and you, and you… He didn’t want for there to be anything else. Before he knew it, articles of clothing started to be removed and dropped on the sofa behind him, until skin was touching skin and even the minimal distance between your bodies felt like it was just too much. 
Chris needed you closer, as close as you possibly could be, and in his haze, he’d found himself kissing down your body while you laid on his rug. Slowly, he left kisses on your cheek, your neck, between your breasts–where he took a brief pause just so he could be smothered by them for a bit before he continued his path…
With your legs over his shoulders, with his mouth at the apex of your thighs, Chris couldn’t help but groan at the familiar, undeniable taste of you. Oh, how he’d missed this, too… Your hand gripping his hair, and his own roaming the softest areas of your body while he got to drink you up, was absolutely how he’d been dreaming to be, especially when you started making the prettiest noises, those that made his chest swell with pride and satisfaction.
He supposed it was more than fair. You’d gotten your taste of him last night, and it was now his turn.
Your words of encouragement, your sighs of his name, and the quiet sounds coming out of your mouth made his head spin. How had he even survived all these weeks without this? Without you? 
As he fixated on gently sucking on that sensitive nub between your legs, as your thighs started to shake a bit around his head, Chris just felt lucky. As unfortunate as this whole thing had been, he had to cherish this second chance. There was a lot to talk about, a lot more truths to tell to each other, but all that could wait. Until later or tomorrow or the day after… It could all wait.
Right now, all that mattered was to feel. 
For him to feel you, for you to feel him, and for both to just satiate the burning need for each other.
Getting you to come with just his mouth and his fingers was certainly one of his favourite things in this world. Hearing you gasp and moan his name made him lightheaded, filled him to the brim with arousal and love… Especially so when your legs trapped him right there, when he got to pin you down by the hips so you couldn’t pull away from him while he continued to drink up your essence.
Your body slumped a bit when Chris finally found his way up your body. As soon as he was within reach, you simply pulled him down to you with a firm grip on his hair, sealing your mouths in a slow kiss, uncaring of your taste on his tongue, his lips, or even his chin when you started to leave kisses all over his face.
Chris gave you time to catch your breath. However, when he told you he was doing just that, in that teasing tone that he knew would just rile you up, you just chuckled and told him it was difficult to do so when his lips so deliciously gave attention to your neck.
“What? Want me to stop?” He couldn’t help but chuckle as well, leaving lingering kisses on your skin.
“As if”, was all you mumbled back when you hugged him close and buried your hand in his hair to keep him right there.
After a couple of minutes where Chris just got to place his lips on every centimetre of skin they could find, you pulled him by his hair in that enticing way you always did, and brought him close to you once again, muttering his absolute favourite combination of words you could ever say.
“Fuck me”.
Gladly. 
Chris was hard, leaking pre-cum, needy in ways that only you had ever made him feel. There was not an ounce of restraint in his body tonight, no wish to tease or delay the inevitable. There’d be time for that in the future. Or so he hoped.
So when he finally pushed himself into your sopping warmth, when he started that slow, but precise pace of his hips that he knew you enjoyed so much, he was dead set on diving fully into it, into you. Just like he’d done countless times prior to that night in the theatre.
“I love you”, Chris mumbled in your ear, and even before he said it, he had already started to feel his eyes water.
“I love you”, you mumbled back, further digging your nails on his back, tightening the hold of your legs around his torso. “With my whole heart”.
Your words coming out as a shaky whisper were enough to shatter the remaining protective layer around his heart. He could feel himself tremble, and even though he saw the tears running down your cheeks when he kissed you again, he hadn’t really needed to do it to know they were there. Just like he was sure you hadn’t needed to see his to know, too.
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Chris had almost forgotten how it was like to sleep with you–in the literal sense of the word.
Your warmth, the way you clung to him sometimes in the middle of the night, how you’d wake him up when he was about to choke on his spit… It was all so, so familiar, it was comforting, and last night, even if you both had gone to sleep late after a couple more mind-numbing orgasms, after finishing your food, and after even more cuddles and deep emotional talks, this had probably been the best he’d slept in weeks.
Which was why, when he turned to drape an arm around your waist because he just needed to pull you closer to him, he almost got whiplash from the feeling of the cold sheets under his hand.
Chris’ eyes snapped open to find your side of the bed empty. Why was it so cold? Had you just left? When did you leave? Had you woken up today filled with regret? Had you decided that trying to work things out was actually too complicated and not worth your time?
Chris’ heart was beating fast in his chest, and just before he flung himself from the bed in a panic to see if the things you brought last night were still in the flat, he heard a sound. It was quiet, but he definitely heard it, and that feeling of panic was quickly changing to one of dangerous hope.
He didn’t even bother putting clothes on, just stood up and walked all the way to his bedroom’s door. As soon as it was opened, he could hear things more clearly. 
Music.
Very low, but it was certainly playing somewhere down the hall.
He could hear the sound of a spatula against metal, as well as the crackling of oil, and the unmistakable hum of the airfryer.
“Morning, sleepy bear”, you said as he stepped into the kitchen, not even turning to look at him. Chris had light steps, but he supposed it made sense that you of all people were more than capable of hearing him walking closer. “M’making some eggs and bacon”.
Chris couldn’t help the small smile that came to his lips. He walked into your space, and wrapped his arms around your waist to hug you from behind. “So, the only things that were in the fridge”.
“Basically. You should really go grocery shopping. How are you gonna have energy for work if you don’t eat proper meals, hm? Who’s gonna protect Seungmin then?” There was a hint of a smile in your voice, and it only made Chris’ own smile widen.
It was odd to hear you talk about his job, especially so… neutrally. Resting his chin on your shoulder, Chris watched you carefully and methodically cook the eggs, and he couldn’t help but tighten his hold around your waist.
There was a moment of silence as you placed the two perfectly fried eggs on a plate, next to the already cooked ones. The airfryer timer went off, you switched off the stove, but you remained standing there in Chris’ hug.
One of your hands came to his arms, and you started to softly caress his skin. “Baby… I don’t wanna get you into trouble, you know?”
Chris knew. Being with you would definitely get him into trouble if the Kims found out who you were. He was aware of this, there was no way he wouldn’t be. “I know, love”.
“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t… don’t really know what to do. How to fix that. I can’t let them hurt you because of me”.
Taking a deep breath, Chris let go of your waist to take a hold of your shoulders instead. With a gentle grip, he coaxed you to turn around so he could cup your cheeks in his hands. “We’ll figure something out. About the Kims, about the Guild… We’ll just… figure it out”.
You swallowed, but a small smile found its way to your lips. “Why do I get the feeling that this is gonna be some ‘you and me against the world’ bullshit?”
“Because it is”, Chris chuckled, squishing your cheeks, making your lips jut out into a pout. “It’s you and me, bun. We might need to improvise a bit, walk around the truth, but I have hope that we can find a solution to this”.
He pecked your lips briefly, and his hold on your cheeks relented.
You immediately looped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you just as his hands found the small of your back. “I suppose we can put our two scheming brain cells together to think of something. I must say… doesn’t seem that difficult of a task when you’re here with me”.
Chris agreed completely. As long as he had you there, with him, it didn’t seem a difficult thing to achieve. Either getting the Guild to trust you again, or for you to defect, or even getting him to come clean to at least Seungmin, or keep you a secret, or for both of you to disappear completely, maybe leave the country and get new identities… It didn’t matter what course of action you both decided to take. 
As long as you got to be together, happy, and in love, it just didn’t matter.
Even when he leaned in to press a kiss on your lips, when he hugged you close, Chris held onto that possibly foolish hope that everything would be okay. That you both would, in fact, figure it all out.
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tagging (people from my taglist + people that asked to be tagged in this part 2 specifically):
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General Masterlist
283 notes · View notes
idanceuntilidie · 6 months
Note
Oh yea, i forgot somwthing its yandere male x oblivious gn reader and make the yandere slowly fall in love with the reader :")
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Yeah it’s okay, and thank you sugar.
And it’s a-okay I understood everything, I hope what I wrote was to your liking it is probably the longest request I have written so sorry about that but yay 1054 words! I will add a cool song as a sorry-
I liked this, and so Kyu will be appearing more because I think I fell inlove myself. I will even draw him. Small side note he has only one eye--
Yandere Male x Gn! Oblivious Reader
Enjoy! Requests are open don't be shy :D
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Kyu doesn’t know what’s worse, his precious darling not paying any attention to him or YOU.
You see during the last years of high school Kyu has developed a crush on someone and everything was going according to plan. He even started to slowly talk to them more, and got the special room in the basement for them ready.
But when everything seemed to go according to the plan. You appeared out of nowhere! Then his plan went to shit, his little darling came fluttering back to you every chance they saw you even if they were in the middle of conversation. He grit his teeth in frustration when you were around him. How dare you act so clueless and steal his future spouse just like that. He was watching you, noting where you went or what you did. He needed to find out how you apparently were better than him.
You weren’t even that special, sure he has to admit you were cute and your whole personality was quite charming but that changed nothing.
His hands gripped the wall as he watched both of you, talk and giggle, from around the corner. His knuckles turned white as his face twisted into a scowl. You will get it he seethes. You have no idea why this person came up to you. You learnt was something that started with V. V-....V-... someone. You actually think that they are following you, but then again they are actually nice and don’t ask for much. Being friends with them couldn’t hurt you right? Yeah, you suppose but you have a feeling they only hang around for homework and such. You try to keep up with their rambling as you try to find the notes V wanted. You added something now and then, laughing at little jokes they made.
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As you finally find the slightly damaged math notes you smile as you hand them over to them. They squeak in happiness as they thank you over and over in happiness. They even promise to buy you a drink for helping them. They skip away as you.
You sigh in relief as another human to human interaction seemed to actually go as planned. Man, this was tiring.
As you were about to get up you felt something burning your skull. You look up to meet a very noticeable white haired man watching you. Oh, wasn’t he Vs boyfriend? You stare at him back, eyes squinting as you try to remember his name. You saw his eye widen as he scurried away. Shrugging you pick up the backpack and head to your next class. You yawn, limbs stretching as you finally get out of that shithole. You saw V a few times and they in fact went to buy you something. Redbull and a few snacks, even if you tried to decline they still kept on insisting that you deserve it. You saved the snacks for later. You slowly dragged your body to your house. You cut off the world and just listened to your favourite songs. You didn’t notice someone running up behind you and hitting you in the head with a bad, successfully knocking you out. 
You woke up with a very bad headache, blinking to make the blurriness wash away you take notice of your surroundings. You were in a bathroom, a very small pinkish bathroom. Your body rested in the bathtub.
Well this is original.
You turned your head to be met with that same blue eye you saw earlier today. Vs boyfriend?...What was his name again..? Something that started with D? Or K?
You aren’t sure since the headache you are experiencing is horrible. From what you know he is actually all cutesy and shit, very soft spoken, maybe he found you unconscious and carried you to his home..? But then again, you are tied up in the bathtub. “You rat!” he squeaks, pale face turning red.
You raise your brow in confusion. “You wanted to steal them away! You wretched rat!” “Huh..?” You squint your eyes at him, despite being absolutely scared shitless. You try to understand what he even wants from you. Steal them away… is he talking about V? “Dude your boyfriend? No way in hell, they just want notes usually” “Not true! I will fucking skin you alive” He was about to grab your face. “Do not threaten me with a good time, good sir.” You were trembling with tears in your eyes as you forced a cheeky smile. You saw him pause, his face red but you are not sure if it was from anger this time. He got up and left. Your eyes widened, as tears that were pricking at your eyes rolled down your cheeks, man. Did you just fluster him or… by the squeal you heard from the depths of the house you assume you did. Somehow. You laid your head against the cold tile wall, trying to calm down your breathing.
You heard him come back so you close your eyes to actually not see what he brought with him. You expected everything at this point, your skin shuddered at the thought of him looming over you with a knife. You expected to feel cold metal but instead you felt his hands on your cheeks wiping away the tears. He gave your cheeks a little squish. You whined in confusion. He chuckled at that and played with your cheeks some more.
“I still think you are a rat, a very cute one I have to admit. I think I like you” He got closer, you could practically smell his strawberry perfume.
“I will give you a chance to redeem yourself.” “Really? Listen my notes are not the best but-” “I don’t want them, I want you.” “I-I don’t even know you!” You felt his cheek against yours, slowly nuzzling as he hummed. “We have all the time in the world, after I get rid of my last crush so they won’t try to get close to you again.” Your heart sinks, but you don’t dare to open your eyes. His name is Kyu, you finally remember but at what cost. “You sure you don’t want the notes..?”
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Meanwhile V panicking because they think the amount of candy mixed with that red bull killed your ass.
185 notes · View notes
dutifullylazybread · 2 months
Note
just found you, i see a lot of pre and post family with the teefs. what about during? and directly after? how do they care for their partner during pregnancy? especially if its a diffcult one? and afterward when their partners body has changed and maybe they're less confident about the extra weight, softer body, the extra rolls and teh stretch marks that wont go away? how does each bachelor help or make it better ir suddenly realize that is even wrong to begin with? what if they accidentally something bring out that newly found weakness in their partners confidence? ( sorry if youre busy i know you got stuff to do- i just figured youre the person who could slam dunk these thoughts i had)
Have I... GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I CAN JOIN THE TIEFLING HEAD CANON SQUAD???????
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ADDED 4/26/24: This might be a rough list, but I hope you all enjoy!! ❤️
OKAY. I GOTTA ADD CAL. I'M ADDING CAL. THIS SWEET MAN IS A TIEFLING BACHELOR AND DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH FAN CONTENT... YET.
And thank you for bearing with me--I know that this ask was sent in a hot minute ago! I'm hoping I answered all of your questions; I got to a point of this sitting in my drafts where I just felt bad about how long it had been there, so I tried to be thorough but I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later. I mostly worked on this when I had a few spare moments between chapters, and then I said "screw it. This is getting done. TODAY."
So, for Cal, Rolan, Zevlor, and Dammon--let's go!
DISCLAIMER - I do not have children myself, nor have I ever been pregnant. So I shall do my best!
JUST IN CASE - A CONTENT WARNING: While writing these head canons, I did refer to the tiefling's partner as "you." If reading about being pregnant makes you uncomfortable for any reason, please be aware and be kind to yourself. I have zero doubt in my mind that I will be creating another head canon list, so if you need to pass or wait on this one, that's absolutely okay. Your mental health is important.
Cal
While Cal's partner is pregnant, he will do absolutely anything and everything to make sure they are comfortable. To say that he is doting is putting things very mildly.
He will make your favorite meals, will go out and get whatever you are craving (late night runs--not a problem), will rub your swollen ankles.
Too hot? He's asking Rolan for a cantrip scroll to fix it. Too cold? He's already piling you with blankets.
Are you feeling sick and nauseous? He's already prepping something for you to eat/drink that doesn't have an offensive smell.
And if it's a hard pregnancy? I don't see him leaving your side. If he does, he has Rolan create a sending stone set for the two of you so that you can reach out to him for anything and everything.
Honestly, he doesn't get far enough for him to even use the sending stones. He is looking for anything and everything to make the pregnancy easier on you. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now because he doesn't want you to lay there in pain.
There may be points where he feels helpless because while he can do things to try and alleviate any physical discomfort, there are just times when he might just grasp at straws.
And, in situations where he can't alleviate your physical discomfort, he will do what he can to distract you.
He keeps his stress managed well enough, but that doesn't mean he won't snap at Lia or Rolan if he is too anxious. If he does get openly frustrated with them, it takes both off guard.
I also think he just holds you. A lot. Part of that is to comfort you, and the other part is to assure himself that everything will be okay.
If his partner is dealing with body image issues after giving birth, I see him being confused. You? The most enchanting person he has ever known?
Cut to him kissing you and holding you whenever possible. He'll ask Lia and Rolan to watch the baby whilst the two of you go on outings when your health permits. If it helps you to hear it, he'll remind you how lovely you are. Frequently. Hourly. Every five minutes? Not quite, but close enough.
Personally, I don't think his doting goes away after the pregnancy. And, if it is too much, it might make you feel like he views you as helpless.
If you give voice to this, he goes into immediate mediation mode. He will be extremely apologetic. He loves you and never wants you to think he perceives you as anything other than the phenomenal person you are.
Rolan
Ugh. My beloved.
He might be more stressed about having a child than you are.
He never anticipated being a father, and that might be for 15+ reasons, but he feels drastically unprepared (even if the pregnancy was planned).
He reads every. Single. Book. On pregnancy. He is the parent who gives himself nightmares when he reads about birthing complications.
Every sign of discomfort that you show is a catastrophe on the horizon.
And if it's a difficult pregnancy? Yeah. Dial that up by five notches.
He is preparing for all worst-case scenarios.
If it weren't for Cal and Lia keeping him in check, he would be safety-proofing everything in the tower.
He crafts sending stones so you can call for him if you need anything. ANYTHING.
But also, he starts shadowing midwives and asking lots of questions. If the worst were to happen and you couldn't reach a professional, he wants to be there to help you.
After giving birth, I see him splitting his anxiety between your health/recovery and the baby's overall well-being.
"The baby sneezed. That might indicate five different lethal illnesses. I'm fetching the cleric."
This is another situation where you, Cal, and Lia might have to remind him that, yes, babies do sometimes sneeze, and not everything that lands in the diaper spells doom.
Rolan might not initially understand why you're feeling self-conscious about any weight gain. Of course you're lovely. Also, isn't that what happens with pregnancies? (His words--not mine).
He assures you that you're lovely, but words might not be enough here. He might shove his foot in his mouth while trying to make the situation better.
But the best thing for him to do is remind you, repeatedly, that you are lovely. And that might not have been something he was accustomed to even saying to you prior to you conceiving. He would assume you knew that he was attracted to you.
It honestly might be the strangest (and most endearing) thing to have him say "You look very lovely today. Yes, even with the baby's spit up on your shirt."
Zevlor
*nervously staring at the tiefling I am the most unsure about writing.*
*cracks my knuckles and cries because it hurt like hell*
Zevlor has been through some of the most heinous things that can be thrown at someone. He is a seasoned soldier. A Hellrider. Surely he can help his partner through pregnancy. After all, there were plenty of soldiers in the barracks who has pregnant spouses. He's heard enough stories that he feels prepared.
He survived the Elturel's Descent. It's possible that he helped safeguard someone who was in the middle of giving birth or guided expecting parents to safety. Maybe he had to fight off the devil's skulking the streets if they caught wind/heard that person enduring birthing pains?
So maybe, he thinks, he has already seen some of the worst births ever. Maybe, he thinks, in this time of relative peace, in this home that he and his love have created, it'll be easier?
My personal headcanon for Zevlor is that he put EVERYTHING into being a Hellrider/paladin. It was his life. It was his every breathing moment. And when he became an oathbreaker, it destroyed him. His life was devoted to protecting others, and he feels that he failed in the worst of ways possible.
He certainly had friends and very possibly family that he would see on occasion, but I think that, if you didn't fight alongside him/live in the barracks too, you very likely didn't see much of him.
So maybe he has heard a great deal about pregnancies. And maybe he knows about the complicated ones--just a bit. But he himself is at a loss for when his partner tells him that they are pregnant.
Is he excited? Absolutely. Is he terrified. Oh yeah.
Regardless of how complicated the pregnancy is, he is nervous. He is worried that he will slip up in all the ways that matter, and he is terrified of letting you down.
He's a soldier though, and he prepares for everything.
He has additional blankets and pillows next to the bed.
Hot and cold compresses are ready to go.
He makes sure that he accounts for your cravings whenever shopping.
He has medicine for when the pain is severe. And when the medicine doesn't cut it, he tries his best to distract you--his mileage varies.
And this man adores you. So after the pregnancy, if you are feeling self-conscious, he will worship your body.
Dammon
I could see Cal and Dammon both being very doting, but Dammon would be juggling the forge and helping you.
If you spent a lot of time in the forge with him prior to pregnancy but find that being in there now makes you feel ill, he will absolutely feel lonelier. He is definitely the sort of person who gets very absorbed in his work, and I think this makes him feel guilty. Especially if he feels like him being there could have made things easier for you.
He becomes a meal prep king. Will cook several comfort meals for you to eat while he is working.
Massages swollen ankles and feet and anything else.
While he might have worked later hours in the forge before, he makes a point to wrap things up sooner to spend evenings with you.
That doesn't mean he isn't nervous--you're about to have a child, and he does worry if there will be enough money.
He worries that if he does slow down, commissions will dry up, and then where will that leave the three of you?
If the pregnancy is difficult, he feels guilty for leaving you alone and looks for hundreds of ways to make things easier.
Eventually, he creates a small sitting space for you near the doorway to the shop itself. It's not so close to the forge that you'll be uncomfortably hot or so close that the smell will make you sick, and he sets up a small tarp to create some shade.
If you helped Dammon in the forge before the pregnancy, he is likely hesitant to have you come back and immediately help. Especially if the birth was difficult.
But what you need, more than anything from him, is time
And Dammon wants to be a parent who is present in your life and the baby's, so he does everything to be there.
But money is still a stressor. And he might worry about you being in the forge again. So he's stressed on all fronts.
And while I don't see him commenting or changing how he treats his partner because of weight change, I do see him being VERY reluctant to have you work in the forge with him.
And this may lead to an argument. You know he is stressed about commissions and being there for you and the baby, but you still want to help.
So Dammon dials it back several notches and agrees that you know your body best. So long as you feel comfortable working in the forge, and so long as you listen to your body, the two of you can start it from there.
And it gets easier to balance the forge and child rearing. While the baby isn't allowed close to the open heat/flame until they fully understand why they must be careful (and until their lungs are developed), you and Dammon create a small swing/play area nearby.
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imshymorph · 3 months
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HI LOVE!!!! 🥺
if ur taking requests, could you pls do husband!Price with a reader who has ADHD? I myself have ADHD and am extremely forgetful, and tend to feel emotions more intensely than others, which means I cry a lot and get told I’m over sensitive haha 🥺❤️❤️😭
Hi darling! My requests are open, I'm just loaded up with uni work. So sorry it took over a week for me to answer. (But if you don’t mind the wait, 100% send in requests!!). I hope I portrayed it properly, I kind of fall in the adhd spectrum myself but it can really vary from one person to another, so I hope it's relatable!
Anyway, here’s some soft!Price with ADHD!reader
I think he’d notice pretty early on, maybe not specifically labelling it as ADHD, but he’d pick up on the forgetfulness and how quick it could change to a hyperfixation. I think he’s observant enough that he’d kind of be able to pinpoint the moment in your thought process where you jump from the thing you just said you were going to do to whatever other task popped in your mind that pulls you away from it.- - - - -
He would grow used to it pretty quickly, used to sharing space with all kinds of people at base and adapting himself to better work with them. I also lowkey headcanon that Soap has ADHD so he’d already have an idea on how to work around it and some strategies in place to help you with it. 
Although I think his main worry would be supporting you with the emotional side that comes with it. He’d be there for you at any time. It doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll dry your tears and talk with you about it. If you don’t want to talk or maybe it’s one of those days where you don’t even know why you’re crying, then he’ll just hold you close for a bit and help you get distracted when you feel better. 
I think that even if he doesn’t fully understand it, he can get a grasp on how overwhelming it can get. He’d notice when you’re starting to get frustrated, when your brain just can’t find something that releases enough oxytocin to keep you entertained for long enough. He’d swipe in then, bringing up one of your special interests or one of the hobbies you gave up on a few months back, to see if it sparks some joy again. If it doesn’t he’ll find something new that you both can try together or somewhere to go and explore. 
And don’t  you dare apologise for any of it, he’d give you a full on scolding on how it’s not something to apologise for. (That’s who you are and who he loves, darling). He doesn’t care that you forgot to close the kitchen cupboard for the fifth time this week, nor that the clean dishes still sit on the dishwasher, nor the pile of folded clothes that still sit on top of the dresser. He’s happy to have you with him, to share space with you and he’d take a messy living room and arrive late to your reservations on date night every single time if it means he’s with you. 
Also, he’d absolutely change things around the house and in his schedule if it means it makes things easier for you. He’ll change the organisation in all drawers and cupboards that need it so it’ll be easier for you to remember to put everything in its place. He’ll sit with you while you do work or chores, having casual conversation to keep you entertained and focused while you finish. Will sit there for hours if he has to, listening to you infodump about whatever thing your brain has last fixated on. And hold you for as long as you need when your emotions get too much and make you cry, one warm hand on your hip to hold you close while the other rubs your back. 
And relating to the crying. Poor soul, the one who dares to call you oversensitive in his presence. He’d absolutely rip them a new one, ready to start a physical fight if it is necessary because (how dare you judge his love for something out of their control). As soon as he’s satisfied with the scolding the other person got, his full attention is back on you. 
He’d pull you close, cup your cheeks and gently dry your tears with his thumbs. A small smile appearing on his lips, “don’t listen to them, love. You’re perfect just like this.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and lightly pinches your cheeks to get a smile from you. “Come on, let’s go home so you can tell me more about those books you have been reading.”
And the way your small pout and teary eyes change to a smile makes his heart soar. He throws an arm over your shoulders and holds you close as the both of you walk home, happily listening about the character arch of one of the main characters you tell him about. He’s already planning on wrapping you up on your favourite blanket on the couch while he gets ready some of your comfort food, how you’ll eat it together while you cuddle and watch one of your favourite shows or movies. 
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