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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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Fools in Love

Summary: He can explain how String Theory works. He can figure out Riemann Hypothesis. He can recite all the numbers of pi until he’s blue in the face. Yet somehow, Spencer Reid can’t figure out what to do for his first first anniversary.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings: Spencer Reid is a self-deprecating mf, Jane Austen quotes? But there’s a happy ending

Word Count: 3128

Fools in Love

He scratches the back of neck, a nervous habit that he’s sure makes him look weak. He wants to find the perfect recipe to make a wonderful meal for Y/N. It’s his first first anniversary so Spencer’s completely lost as to what to do. Y/N deserves the most romantic dinner, especially considering how much chaos he causes. It must be a lot to put up with him, Spencer thinks. He’s even more useless when it comes to love than when it comes to cooking. While he might not be a fan of technology, given he has the Thai place down the street from his apartment on speed dial. She doesn’t deserve some take out Thai with paper plates. But he’s a scientist, a well-known and well-educated scientist who is completely failing at planning his first anniversary.

It was useless. Completely and utterly useless, Spencer thought to himself as he ran his fingers across the various titles of cookbooks. Some featured complex dishes from Korea and others were 30 minute meals of the vaguely Midwest variety. Spencer never in his entire 33 years of living felt so out of place in a library. He’s so at home in between the stacks of books, he finds the comforting words of long dead authors and intricate mathematical theories a second home. However, it seems that Spencer Reid has found the most intimidating section of the library: cooking.

And what do academics do when they are at a crossroad? Well, they call in the experts. The love expert came in the shape of Agent Derek Morgan himself. This idea just might be the most brilliant thought Spencer’s had or the dumbest, but Y/N is worth it.

Okay, maybe it was a mistake to come to Derek, Spencer thinks as he sits in front of his friend, a coffee in his hand and an expression of pure fear on his face.

“You want me to, what?” Spencer asks, shocked at Derek’s suggestive advice.

“Lie in bed naked, call Y/N on the phone and make something up. You’ll be waiting in bed and then BAM! Anniversary sex,” Derek says, his eyebrows wagging as he sips his coffee.

“Are you messing with me, Morgan?” Spencer says, his face pale from the very thought of lounging in bed naked, waiting for Y/N to come over to his apartment.

“Why not, I’m sure it would get you laid,” Derek reasons. Get me laid? Spencer and Y/N don’t get laid, he thinks. They do have sex, but it’s not getting laid. It’s more romantic and loving than just whatever Derek suggests.

God, he can’t tell Derek that, he’d never live it down.

“You have slept with Y/N, right?” Derek asks, suddenly nervous that he touched a nerve with his friend. As much as he likes to tease, Spencer knows that Derek doesn’t mean any harm, hence why he’s the first person he thought to come to.

“We prefer to call it making love,” Spencer says, pretending to be very interested in his chocolate donut and trying to fight off the blush that rises to his cheeks. Even a year into their relationship, Spencer still gets butterflies at thinking about Y/N like that.

“So you want this to be more romantic than just fucking, because you’ve done it for a year?” Derek proposes as simply as if he’s talking about a case. Not that talking about serial victims is anymore normal or weirder than the current conversation.

“Morgan and you please stop talking about Y/N and sex in the same sentence?” Spencer says through gritted teeth.

“Reid, kid. I’m just busting your chops, I know who you feel about Y/N. When you two are in the same room, it’s like there’s no one else in the world. And it’s kinda hard to get your mind to focus on one thing, but Y/N does that,”

“I know,” Spencer says. “I can’t mess this up Derek. I can’t give another person a reason to leave me,”

“Y/N won’t leave because you can’t plan a terrible anniversary dinner,” Derek says comfortingly.

“I checked out 7 cookbooks, Morgan. 7, and I read them on the metro home. It’s useless, I’m useless,” Spencer laments.

He looks up to try to read Derek’s expression. The last thing he’d want to see on his face is pity or worse laughter. No, Spencer. Derek is your best friend. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother. Spencer feels almost guilty for thinking that Derek would laugh at him, while he might like to tease him, especially about his lovelife, they trust each other inexplicably. What’s written on Derek’s face is not pity or ridicule, it’s a smile. A smile not for Spencer, but for the colorful woman walking towards their table.

“You told Garcia?” Spencer groans, but scooting over so Penelope would have a spot to sit with them.

“Of course I told Garcia, kid. You know better than anyone that we can’t keep anything secret,” Derek explains, leaning in to kiss Garcia’s hand.

“Spencer Reid! I can’t believe you,” Garcia says, smacking Spencer’s arm lightly.

“Garcia!” Spencer shouts, clutching his coffee and hunching down in his seat to avoid being hit by the tech goddess with her hard rings on her surprisingly strong hands.

“Don’t Garcia me, Reid. You need me, whether or not you realize it or not. I’m irreplaceable,” she tells him, grabbing a pink notebook and a fluffy green pen from her bag.

Spencer nods in understanding, as much as he hates it, he knows that he needs help. It’s just a hard pill to swallow when help comes in the form of Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia, perhaps the two people on Earth who are the most in love.

“I know I need you guys,” Spencer says, looking from Garcia to Derek, half expecting them to tell him to order some terrifying sex toy from a scretchy store on the edge of town or something equally horrifying.

“What’s something that she likes? You know like a special thing that Y/N would never think about getting herself” Garcia asks, making notes with the fluffy when that bounces as she writes.

“She likes to read,” Spencer suggests, thinking about the first date that they had. They talked for hours about their favorite books and ended up getting booted from the library for overstaying their welcome. Y/N found it quite endearing that The Little Prince is Spencer’s while her is anything and everything by Jane Austen. He thinks back to her eyes gleamed when talking about the book, or how passionate she got when she argued that Mr Knightley and Emma were soulmates.

“Okay, that’s a start Spencer. Really good,” Garcia says, trying to boost her friend’s confidence.

“What else?” Derek asks, thinking about the times when he and Y/N hang out with Spencer and Penelope.

“Fret not, Boy Wonder,” Garcia says, softly patting Spencer’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of this,” she finishes as she reaches into her bag, that seems to have a never ending bottom, and pulls out a laptop.

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“So Garcia and Morgan took over your anniversary plans and basically just made it how they’d want to spend their anniversary?” JJ offers, as she hands Spencer a beer from her refrigerator and sits back down at her kitchen table.

Spencer takes a swig of his beer and shrugs his shoulders, thinking about how wrong this whole anniversary dinner has gone.

“I just wanted this to be special, JJ. I know it’s only been a year, but Y/N is it for me. God, she was it for me on the third date,” Spencer confesses.

“I know, Spence. I’ve never seen you this happy. Happiness looks good on you,” JJ tells him.

“Y/N makes me happy, she puts up with me, so the least I can do is make this perfect for her,”

“Spence, don’t sell yourself short,” JJ says, “You’re a kind man and a wonderful boyfriend, you’re both lucky to have each other,”

“Thank you, JJ, but Y/N is the better person in this relationship. That’s why this needs to be perfect,” Spencer explains, his self doubt still littering his mind.

“What about a baseball game? You can pay for a message to pop up on the Jumbotron. Like Happy Anniversary, Y/N,” JJ suggests, and Spencer really can’t tell if JJ is joking. She can’t possibly think that Y/N and he would have a romantic anniversary with the threat of getting pelted in the face with a baseball.

“Sports games are not our forte, JJ. I honestly can’t tell who’d hate sitting in the sun for hours with angry sports fans,” Spencer adds.

“Okay so no sports, I should have figured, Spence,” JJ winks knowingly. “How about this, think about somewhere that’s special to you two. Somewhere that makes you think of her,”

“The thing is JJ, everyplace we’ve been together makes me think of her. The elevator when she first kissed me, the movie theater we always go to on Saturday nights, even the sidewalk outside my apartment building. Everything makes me think of her because she’s my everything,” Spencer says, hiding his discomfort at the conversation.

“Spence, I think that anything you plan, will be wonderful. Have a little trust in yourself for once, Y/N is already head over heels in love with you, so I doubt that she’d really care where you go or what you do,” JJ advises, clearing up the dirty dishes from their Friday night pizza dinner with the boys.

“I’m going to go JJ, thanks for talking me out of my head. If I took Morgan’s advice, I’d probably end up with a restraining order,” Spencer jokes, putting his jacket on and saying goodbye to his friend.

“You think you need an Uber?” JJ asks, but immediately finds amusement from Spencer’s disgust at the idea of getting into an Uber.

“Germs and technology sound like a nightmare, JJ. And I’m not going to remind you of the statistics regarding missing persons and those rideshare apps-” Spencer offers, but is cut off by JJ’s pretend annoyance.

“Remind me to send Y/N combat pay, you know maybe she is a saint for putting up with you,” JJ teases.

He walks out into the chill of the night, recounting the advice his friends gave him. Derek and Penelope’s plan was a little outlandish, a little too much for Spencer and Y/N. JJ, who Spencer knows means well, only served to remind him of how hard it must be with him. His steps are slow and languid, but his mind anything but.

One step, you’re probably just a charity case that Y/N decided to save.

Two steps, why on Earth would a woman like her even look at a man like you.

Three steps, you’re so pathetic that you can’t even plan a dinner for her. She’s too good for Spencer, you’ll ruin her.

Everyone who you love leaves you or dies, anyway.

It’s that thought, not the thought of being alone, but the thought that he deserves to be alone that sends the tears down his cheeks.

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Somehow, someway, Spencer made it back to his apartment. It never felt so dark, so unlike home. Maybe he just didn’t never realized that these walls aren’t home without Y/N. He really should try to get to sleep, but he’d rather fend off sleep with the endless supply of coffee than have to face a night alone in the cold bed.

Just as Spencer makes his way to prepare a cup of coffee, he hears a distant jiggle of keys and the door knob rattle. And in comes Y/N, as fresh as the cup of coffee brewing and as beautiful as ever.

“Happy Anniversary, my love,” Y/N tells him, dropping the bags on the floor. She moves over to him like a light breeze. All he wants is to welcome her embrace. He wants to scoop her up and carry her far away from the monsters that lie in wake. He feels an urge to be her protector, but how can be her protector when what he really wants is to be protected.

“Y/N, what are you doing here, it’s so late,” Spencer says, praying that his voice doesn’t let go. He knows it’s futile, one look from Y/N, her palm to his cheek or even worse a chaste kiss on his forehead, Spencer would not be able to think. What is a genius without his mind?

“I couldn’t wait for tomorrow, Spence, I just missed you too much,” Y/N says, her voice a prayer that spins around in Spencer’s brain, searching for refuge in his heart.

“You really missed me?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe her beyond belief. Y/N’s frown searches for an answer in Spencer’s distant expression. Even though they stand there with the kitchen light casting shadows touching as much skin as they can reach, Spencer is a million miles away.

“Of course I missed you, baby. And I just had to give you one of your gifts tonight. I just couldn’t wait to see your face,” Y/N says, practically bouncing as she bounds off to get the package for Spencer.

“So this is only the first part, and stay with me, I know how much you hate technology, but I think you’ll make an excuse for this,” She tells him, handing him a heavy cube shaped package. It’s decorated in Y/N’s handwritten flowers and hearts, and a cute doodle of who Spencer can only assume is them. His girlfriend may not be artistic. But she’s the artist who paints the stars in Spencer’s night sky. She’s the tailor who sewed him back up when he was broken. She’s the architect who has the key and blueprint to his heart.

Spencer opens the gift, his hands shaky and unsure. He’s terrified that Y/N can see right though him. He reveals the present. It’s a small wooden box with a red wooden heart that looks like it’s supposed to be pixelated. There’s a blank space on the top, that Spencer supposes is a screen.

“You gotta plug it in, Spence. So the messages can pop up. When you're far away from me saving the world, I can type a message from my phone and it’ll appear on your box,” she explains. Spencer looks up at her trying to search for what he did to get this lucky.

“Thank you, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Spencer tells her, placing a kiss against her forehead. It’s the kind of kisses that tell you so much more. It’s the kind of kiss you give when you know there’s more where that one came from. It’s safe and warm and everything good about this world.

“I gotta make sure you won’t forget me when you go traipsing all over the country. A hot genius like you only comes around so often. I’m sure you got loads of attractive people throwing themselves at you, Spence,” she says with a wink.

“Hot genius?” Spencer repeats half dumbfounded and half joking.

“Yup, I gotta make sure they know that you’re spoken for,”

“I couldn’t forget you even if I tried, Y/N. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I still don’t know what I did to ever deserve you,” Spencer says, as the tears and the fears of not being good enough bubble to the surface.

“Spencer, baby. You’re shaking. What’s the matter? Huh,” she says softly, brushing her hand over Spencer’s head in a comforting and loving gesture.

Spencer leans into her, his head pressed into her neck. He can hear her heartbeat and he can smell her perfume. He wants to get lost in her. Get lost in the feeling of total and complete love.

“I just wanted this to be perfect, Y/N. For you- you deserve so much more than I can give. It must be so hard dating me. I know that I’m difficult to love sometimes,” Spencer murmurs, his tears pouring down his cheeks and spilling like his darkest thoughts onto Y/N’s shirt.

“Spencer, you make my life so much brighter. So much fuller. I know that you got a lot going on up in that mind of yours and it must be kinda scary. It must be hard always being the guy people expect answers from. But I got you, sweetheart. And I’m not letting go,” Y/N tells him the words falling from lips like a psalm and taking on a new life in Spencer’s heart.

“Thank you, Y/N. I really wanted this to be the best anniversary. I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” Spencer apologizes as he peppers light, feathery kisses along her collarbone and up to her eyes.

“Well you’re my mess, Spencer. Let’s be honest, I’d be completely happy to spend our anniversary anywhere with you. Except maybe sports games, that sounds like torture for both of us,” Y/N laughs and Spencer can’t get over how she practically glows in the kitchen light. It could be that his mind is foggy with love, but Spencer hopes that he never grows out of this blissful feeling.

“Well it’s a good thing we’ll have many more to make up for this one,” Spencer says, letting himself get dragged to the large fluffy sofa.

“Oh no, Mister. The next 50 anniversaries have to try to top this one,” Y/N tells him and Spencer’s heart skips and flutters at the thought of having another 49 anniversaries with Y/N by his side.

“I doubt that 50 will be enough, Y/N”

“As long as you’ll allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” Y/N says, cuddling so close to Spencer that she can’t see where her limbs start and Spencer’s end.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” Spencer says running his spidery fingers down Y/N’s side much to her delight.

“Ooh are you trying out some Jane Austen foreplay? Because that’s the way to make my panties drop,” Y/N says suggestively as she rubs her hand over Spencer’s chest and rests it on his neck.

“Maybe tomorrow, I just really want to hold you close right now, Y/N.” Spencer says, sweetly kissing along her temple exciting a bout of giggles from the two of them.

Spencer very well might be useless when it comes to love, but he was eager to learn that he’s worthy of love from his love expert.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader angst #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

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novelconcepts · 3 years

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Jamie & Dani short prompt- Online Dating au meeting online and being from bad past relationship. Thank u

This is probably a bad idea. It is, isn’t it? Almost certainly.

Why is she here?

Dani Clayton has been playing this particular set of thoughts--bad idea, terrible idea, why would you do this?--on repeat for three days. Ever since setting up that dating profile. Ever since realizing there isn’t much use in setting up a dating profile if you’re not going to use it.

Oh, it’s all fun and games, building the thing. Find a photo that accentuates all the best parts of your face--Dani, after an hour of careful consideration, wound up going with one that accentuated her hair, more than anything, but she suspects the same idea counts. Then, the profile. What do you like? Teaching, long walks, new experiences, bad coffee. What don’t you like?

Men, she’d thought, and snorted aloud into her wine before settling on: Deep water, accordion music, expectations, being called Danielle.

A little more flourish, tipsy keystrokes, a casually-framed short-version of her life. Perfect. And then...well, then you hit the publish button, don’t you? You decide, for better or worse, to jump off this diving board and see just how far you can stand to swim before the energy gives out on you.

The faces appearing before her hadn’t been bad, certainly. Pretty, most of them. Interesting, a few. Still, she hadn’t swiped right on any--once or twice, because she’d forgotten which way meant yes please, but mostly because no one seemed quite...right. Which, she’d thought, was silly. The whole point of an app like this is to cast as many nets as possible and see what comes up. The whole point is to have fun.

But every time she’d hovered over a promising image, a woman who likes dogs, or plays the violin, or goes rock-climbing in her spare time, she’d thought of him. Eddie. Who had taken one yes to a single date, and tried to make a whole life with her out of it.

Eddie, who had taken her two decades to pull away from.

What if the women here were the same? Not Eddie, exactly, but--presumptive. What if they believed a swipe-right was as good as a marriage proposal? What if she got bound up in conversation, and then a date, and then a relationship with someone else who just didn’t fit right?

Left. Left. Left.

And then: the mistake.

She hadn’t meant to swipe right. Exactly. She hadn’t planned, maybe is the better way of putting it, on swiping right. She’d only wanted to look at the woman’s profile a little longer. Only wanted to inspect the facets this woman had put out on display with almost resigned simplicity.

Some people, Dani had by now realized, wrote poetry and paragraphs to describe themselves.

Jamie Taylor had bullet points.

“Gardener. English. Likes: Plants. Stories. Tea. Dislikes: Bullshit.”

The end. That had been quite literally the sum of it. Gardener. English. No bullshit.

But the picture, somehow, Dani hadn’t been able to look away from. Not because of carefully-arranged lighting, not because of a curated model-clean image--but because the woman appeared to have posted the photo almost under duress. It came in profile, as though someone else had done the job, her head turned toward the camera as if interrupted. Her hands were buried in a flower pot. Her clothes were simple--a tank top, a silver chain resting against the jut of collarbones, a pair of worn-looking jeans with holes in the knees. Her eyes--some fascinating color Dani couldn’t quite place--looked somewhere between amused and irritated.

She looked real.

Stupid, Dani thinks now--because that was probably the idea, wasn’t it? This woman, Jamie, had planned to look exactly this way. Real. Vexed at the idea of putting herself out there. Reluctantly available.

It was a ploy, certainly--but one that seems to be working, because not only did Dani accidentally-not-accidentally swipe right, she found herself texting the woman. For hours. She’d expected much less, had figured this Jamie person would be as brief in text as she had been in bio, but...

Jamie had talked to her. Willingly. Teasingly, with more humor than truth, maybe, but with no sign at all that she was sick of Dani’s questions, bad jokes, nervous assessment that I really don’t do this, I honestly don’t get it.

I don’t, either, Jamie had replied, and that had felt like enough of a reason to keep testing the waters. Enough of a reason to keep the conversation going back and forth, back and forth, until nearly two in the morning.

Shit, she’d said. I need to be at work in four hours.

Shame, Jamie had replied, her tone already searingly familiar over text. Own your own business, make your own hours. Far wiser approach.

I’ll make a note of it for when I found an elementary school, Dani had replied, laughing. She hadn’t said she’d already been in bed for an hour, the phone resting on the pillow beside her head so she wouldn’t miss the buzz of a new message. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, with wine-warmed blood and the happy haze of good conversation. Jamie made her laugh. Jamie put her at ease. Jamie might not have been real, but she felt real, and that was good.

Better than anything she’d felt in years, if she was honest with herself.

Still, when the next day had come and gone with no message, she’d thought, Fair enough. Jamie had been good virtual company for one night. It was more than she’d expected to get out of this app.

Far more than she’d expected, particularly when Thursday night rolled around and her phone buzzed.

Teacher, yeah? No school on Saturday?

Correct, Dani had replied, as amused by the out-of-left-field text as she was irritated with how her stomach had flipped over upon receiving it. You have figured out the complexity of the American school system.

I am a genius, Jamie sent back, followed quickly by: Drinks tomorrow night?

Drinks. A thing that people do. A thing that adult people do for date reasons.

She isn’t real, she’d thought, even as her thumb was punching back: How’s 8? Miller’s?

A mistake. Definitely a mistake. Because the app had been a lark, and the conversation had been too easy, and the fact that she can’t quite pick out the colors in Jamie’s eyes from a single photo is making her crazier than she’d like to admit.

A mistake, saying yes. A mistake, suggesting the local pub-like establishment around the corner, whose beer-and-burger specials had kept her fed on too many evenings spent working late. A mistake, because once this goes south--as it’s absolutely bound to, as everything Eddie-shaped always has--she’s going to lose her favorite hangout in the deal, too.

And yet: here she is. Standing at the door, wondering if the outfit chosen for the evening festivities--tight jeans, pink blouse, hoop earrings--is too much or not nearly enough.

What am I doing here?

Maybe, she thinks with mingled alarm and hope, she won’t even have showed up. Maybe it’s all part of the ruse: look approachable, look human and normal, look a little too beautiful in the most grounded way possible--then, cheerfully, invite a woman to drinks and just don’t show. A fun story for whoever comes next. Can you believe she thought I’d want to meet her after one night of texting?

“Dani?”

English, Dani thinks with a sudden rush of heat. Right. Somehow, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the accent, which--coming out of this woman, draped with languid ease at a table--is truly a little more than Dani thinks she can handle just now. The accent, combined with the mess of curls dragged back from her face, and a dress sense that manages to be both casual and deeply attractive at the same time, is...

“Jamie,” she says, her voice a little lower, a little more hoarse, than is truly necessary. The woman pushes up from her seat, a small-framed figure in a black button-down, suspenders, ripped jeans. She’s pressing a hand toward Dani, offering a firm shake as though they are business partners, not an off-the-cuff bad idea of a date. “You look--”

“Never been here before,” Jamie says, almost apologetically. She gestures for Dani to sit before dropping back down in a sprawl that implies exactly the opposite of what her mouth is insisting. “Wasn’t sure about the, ah, dress code.”

“You--you did fine,” Dani tells her, wishing suddenly she’d gone for a dress. Or a different human body altogether. She feels too tightly-strung, too anxious for the easy smile on Jamie’s lips. “Um. You’re very. In person.”

“Very,” Jamie repeats, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Is very American for wish I’d gone left, after all?”

“No. No. Absolutely not. That.” Bit too forceful, she suspects, judging by the smile spreading into a grin. “No, it’s just--your picture didn’t--tell me you’d be so...”

“Clean?” Jamie suggests innocently. She raises her hands, wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Scrub up fine, when I need to. Seemed to call for it.”

“And you...sure did answer,” Dani says stupidly. “The. Call, I mean. I’m sorry, I really don’t do this often.”

Something seems to soften in Jamie, her smile less teasing as she leans across the table. “Hey, no worries here. Same person you were talking to the other night.”

Dani nods, embarrassed, and flags down a server. Drinks ordered, she draws in a deep breath.

“I mean, I haven’t done this in years. Or. Ever, I guess.”

“A first date?” Jamie asks. When Dani doesn’t answer, she adds in a knowing tone, “A date with a woman?”

“Both,” Dani says honestly. “My last relationship was--well, I mean, we were engaged--”

Jamie whistles under her breath, reaching up to scratch her head. “Blimey. What happened?”

“He’s...him.” It’s too much to go into on a first date, too much to explain, even though talking to Jamie over text had been so dangerously easy. “My best friend growing up, but that was...growing up.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, tilting her chin in thanks when the server deposits two full pint glasses and a basket of fries on the table. “Rough time, sounds like. I can relate. My last relationship also did not go well.”

“Was he also a man who thought you’d be all too happy to quit your job and take care of a bunch of babies?” Dani asks, perhaps a little too bitterly for the occasion. Jamie flashes another grin, sipping her drink.

“She was a woman who thought I’d be all too happy to take the fall when she got busted for possession.”

Dani gapes. “Oh. Oh--I didn’t know--I’m so--”

Jamie shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong. I was nineteen, and deeply stupid. Live and learn, as the poets say.”

“Which poets?” Dani asks, smiling a little. Jamie’s brow furrows.

“John...Lennon, possibly? Hard to say. Anyway, relationships are a chore and a half, but the greatest people in the world tell me thirty is too old to play musical bedframes, so. Here we are.”

No bullshit, thinks Dani approvingly. For what little she’d put into her profile, Jamie evidently hadn’t been lying about that.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since you were nineteen?”

“In my mind, I was still in the relationship at twenty-four, when they let me out. She didn’t agree. Found out she’d been married two years, by then.” Something darkens in Jamie’s eyes for a moment. She sighs. “Like I said. Not my finest. But I am, as they say, a shining beacon of reform these days.”

“Now, when you say they,” Dani teases, grinning. Jamie nods decisively.

“John Lennon. Definitively.”

There it is, thinks Dani, watching Jamie pop a fry into her mouth. There, the easy roll of conversation from the other night. As though they’ve known each other forever. As though two people who have thus far failed irrevocably at relationships make a perfect match.

Easy, she thinks. Don’t go wild, now.

“So,” she says, when the comfortable silence between them has grown a bit too comfortable for the setting, “who are the greatest people in the world? The ones who tell you thirty is too old for...did you say musical bedframes?”

Jamie laughs. The ring of it curls gently around Dani’s head like a soft hand, a sound she’ll find herself replaying later with a skipping heart.

“Not many willing to put up with a grump of my caliber, but Hannah and Owen fight the good fight. So long as I at least pretend to try.”

“Let me guess. They set up the account for you?”

Jamie makes a sort of gesture in the air with the hand not holding her glass. “Threatened to bury me in puns and children, respectively, if I kept putting it off. Owen’s still grumpy about the photo choice.”

“I liked it,” Dani says without thinking. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you did swipe as much. Mind if I ask why?”

Walked into this one. Still, she doesn’t mind as much as she probably should, not with the genuine curiosity in Jamie’s eyes. “You looked--don’t laugh.”

“No promises,” Jamie says, but with the gentle tone of one who knows exactly how much to tease before it’ll hurt. The idea warms Dani in a way she’s not quite ready to look at yet.

“You looked real,” Dani says. “Like you weren’t going to play games, or waste anyone’s time. Like you just wanted to be happy in peace.”

“That is,” Jamie says, holding out a fry for Dani to take, “sort of the idea, yeah.”

There’s an almost puzzled cast to her smile, like she didn’t entirely expect this answer, and is pleased by it at the same time. That same sense from the photo sweeps over Dani now--that this woman is authentic, even if she’s not always shiny, that she’s kind even if not entirely clean. That she doesn’t have any interest in muddled expectation or living a comfortable lie.

“And me?” Dani asks. She doesn’t entirely mean to--but she’s sure, in asking, that Jamie will answer. Jamie is unlike anyone else she’s ever met, the first person she’s ever known to meet each question head-on.

“Honestly?”

Dani nods. Jamie seems to consider it, turning it over in her head as she twists a fry between her fingers like a cigarette.

“All of it.”

“That’s,” Dani begins to laugh, “that’s not--”

“No,” Jamie says, and she isn’t smiling, exactly. Her eyes have a sort of shine Dani likes very much, but there is no hint of teasing in them now. “Really. All of it. You’re...very pretty, and that’s--but the way you described yourself. Like you didn’t care to be anyone in particular. You like new experiences, and bad coffee. You hate being called Danielle. I...I wanted to know why.”

“It’s not my name,” Dani says simply. Jamie gives a brief laugh, her hand moving across the table to lightly brush Dani’s fingertips.

“I wanted to know why all of it. Why do you like bad coffee--”

“It’s the only kind I know how to make,” Dani says automatically. “Just sort of leaned into it.”

“--and teaching--”

“I want to make a difference,” Dani says.

“--and where you most like to go on those long walks--”

“Anywhere I can breathe,” Dani says. Her fingers are hesitant, tracing the tips of Jamie’s. There’s something electric about this, about barely touching, about barely knowing someone and still wanting to give them neatly-packaged secrets shaped like the mundane.

Jamie is smiling. “See, that. I like that. All of it.”

It’s nothing, Dani thinks reflexively. A collection of details. A sparse approximation of a life. Eddie knows all of this, and then some, and never matched up to knowing her.

But this woman, leaning across the table with one hand outstretched, looks so different. Watches her with steady interest. Is listening to every word Dani says, though the bar is growing crowded around them, and soon, conversation will become a task instead of a gift.

“Would you,” Dani says, feeling certain that some mistakes are not as bad as they seem, “like to take one of those walks?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. Tonight.” Emboldened by the smile, by the curl falling into Jamie’s eyes, by the knowledge that she still can’t quite make out what color those eyes are, Dani takes her hand. It’s so easy, she thinks she could do it even without looking. “Right now.”

No bullshit, she thinks. No expectations. Just Jamie looking at her like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Dani can’t blame her. This isn’t at all what she’d thought she was getting, walking in tonight.

But there’s something about it--something about the feeling that she’s been here before, or should be here forever, or will always find her way back to a woman who looks at her just like this--that almost makes her feel brave. Almost makes her feel wonderful. She rises from the table, laying cash beneath her half-empty glass, and feels a pleasant jolt in her chest when Jamie follows without another word.

If this a mistake, she thinks as they step out into the brisk evening air, it’s one she’s hungry to make.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #okay I liked this one way more than planned #it's sort of nice doing a modern AU under a million words long

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foilfreak · 3 years

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Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 4

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(Link to ao3 version in comments below)

Upon returning to the surface again, Mother Miranda seems confused, but mostly relieved, that Salvatore did not show interest in lingering in the village any longer than necessary. Though Salvatore did end up needing to stay for one last brief conversation, in which he and Mother Miranda discussed various parts of Nadine’s file, as well as finalized the date and approximate time in which Salvatore could expect the villagers to arrive at the reservoir gate with his gift in tow.

2 days from now, was the final agreement, as it would ensure that Salvatore would be the first of the Lords to receive his gift, making up for the fact that he was the last of them to pick. It also permitted him the luxury of some spare time to prepare a new permanent living environment of some kind for his gift. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

Regardless, Once their conversation finally concluded, Salvatore bid his beloved Mother a quick, but appropriately appreciative thank you and goodbye, before closing the large wooden door to the meeting room and trudging back out into the cold, harsh winter snow. Despite a lack of improvement in the weather since Salvatore’s initial journey into the village, the mutant man maintained a solid pace through the snowy paths, seemingly uninhibited by the forceful winds attempting to throw him from his course.

With little time remaining, Salvatore wanted to return to his reservoir as quickly as possible to begin making preparations; though, what exactly it was he was supposed to do in order to prepare for a tiny, beautiful, and apparently violent cadou-mutant woman to begin living in his reservoir with him, once again, Salvatore still had no idea.

Grimacing in frustration, the hooded man wracked his brain for something to do, some way for him to make a good “first” impression with his new gift when she finally arrives. Something that would catch her fancy and hopefully convince her that, despite his terrifying appearance, he wouldn’t harm her and merely wanted to be friends.

Well… technically speaking Salvatore wanted a great deal more than just friendship from the young woman, however given how low his chances are of ever achieving the former, the mutant man decided that he’d happily squash his vile and disgusting desires down deep within himself if it meant he’d gain at least something similar to a friendship with Nadine.

He’d been doing the same with Mother for all these years, so it wasn’t like it was going to be difficult… hopefully.

Upon returning to his reservoir finally, Salvatore retreated from the harsh weather, deciding that he’d likely have a much easier time cleaning if he waited the snowstorm out and got started in the morning, instead. Once the skies had cleared and the sun had just begun to peak over the mountaintop horizon however, Salvatore immediately set to work cleaning up the areas surrounding the reservoir.

It wasn’t until after several hours of diligent gathering and disposing of the numerous unsightly piles of rotting wood and garbage lying around, that the unusually bright and hopeful atmosphere surrounding the reservoir was rudely disrupted by a surprise visitor Salvatore would have never seen coming in a million years.

“HEY, FISHFACE, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? I gotta talk to you about something, so hurry up and crawl out of your sewer system so we can get this over with, already” Karl’s rough and booming voice echoed out from somewhere within the reservoir.

Salvatore flinches in fearful surprise at the demanding voice, wondering what on earth could possibly have brought Karl, the notorious recluse of the family who never left his factory unless bribed or threatened, all the way out here to the reservoir. And to speak to HIM, on top of all that too.

Despite not feeling like subjecting himself to Karl’s recent tendency toward physical abuse disguised as “brotherly affection”, Salvatore sighs and swims his way toward his younger brother’s voice anyways, knowing that ignoring Karl would only prompt the younger man to actually enter the reservoir in search of him, which was the absolute last thing Salvatore needed right now.

“Mornin’, brother! It’s about fuckin’ time you answered the door. You were taking so long I was beginning to wonder if you’d finally decided to run away and live out the rest of your life as an actual fish, like I suggested to you at the last “family” meeting” Karl says bluntly, clad his characteristic attire of green sunglasses, a brown hat atop his head, a long tan trench coat covering his day clothes, various items strung around his neck, and large titanium hammer.

“H-hello, Karl... W-why is it th-that you’re h-here for?” Salvatore asks slowly, peering at the younger, but taller man from behind the only partially opened gate.

“Hey, hey, come on now, Sal, what’s with the cold welcome? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite older brother without a specific rhyme or reason. I think you’ll be surprised to know that I was actually already in the area, and wanted to stop by and see if you were in the mood for a chat. You know, like old times?” Karl says defensively, placing both his hands up as Salvatore narrows his eyes at the younger man.

Salvatore was a lot of things, but stupid most certainly wasn’t one of them, regardless of what other people thought. While it might be true that, when Karl was first introduced to the family as a child following his successful cadou mutation, they had something of a positive older-younger brother relationship that lasted a good many years into Karl’s adulthood, that relationship has been growing progressively shakier and unstable over the past few years, at least it has during the times Karl has acted like Salvatore wasn’t the only one to reach out and attempt to connect with the emotionally volatile, but secretly terrified young boy, when he first arrived.

Deep down, Salvatore still had something of a soft spot for Karl, a soft spot that he occasionally allowed himself to indulge in whenever Karl wasn’t acting like a royal asshole, but those moments of peace and solidarity between oldest and youngest brother had been few and far in between recently. Not to mention that Salvatore would be lying if he said he wasn’t growing increasingly more suspicious and distrustful of Karl and whatever secrets the younger man was hiding in that factory of his. He hadn’t the slightest idea what he could be up to, but something told Salvatore that Karl had more reason to be here than just pure coincidence.

“P-perhaps… what i-is it that you w-want to t-talk about?” Salvatore replies curtly, not wanting to just go along with whatever Karl wanted, but for some reason still willing to give the younger man a chance to prove himself.

Taking a brief moment to look over both his shoulders, Karl places the heavy end of his hammer on the ground and leans inward toward Salvatore, lowering his voice as he whispers, “You see your gift from Mother yet?”

This question took Salvatore by surprise, not expecting the gifts Mother Miranda had given them to be the reason why Karl was here.

“I… I h-have… why?” The disfigured man asks curiously, pushing the gate open a little further so that Karl, despite Salvatore’s earlier reservations toward the younger man, could squeeze his way inside.

Upon entering through the gate, Karl immediately takes 2 cigars out of his back pocket and lights the first one. “Curiosity mostly… but also cuz I think there’s more to this whole “gift” thing than Miranda wants us to believe,” the bespeckled man says, blowing a lungful of smoke out his nose as he offers Salvatore the second cigar. “You still smoke, old man?”

“I-I… I r-really shouldn’t” Salvatore says, turning his back toward Karl’s outstretched hand, even as the wonderfully woody scent fills his nose and his mouth begins to water.

“Oooooh, but something tells me you want to” Karl teases, sauntering over to the older man so that he could wave the fresh cigar in Salvatore’s face, chuckling in amusement when the fish mutant’s gaze locked onto and followed the unlit stick like a dog would a slab of meat.

“B-but it… M-Mother has s-said… m-many times… th-that she d-doesn’t like… doesn’t like when we s-smoke… because… uh, b-because...” Salvatore trails off, trying to remain strong for Mother Miranda, even as his self-control slowly continues to crack.

“Come on, lighten up a little bit, old man. It’s just one cigar. You smoked a pack of these things a day, like they were the only things keeping you going, both throughout my whole adolescence and, if what Duke says is to be trusted which we both know it is, well after I left for my factory, too. When the hell did you start being such a stick in the mud? No wonder I stopped hanging out with you, you’re like a fuckin’ parrot that repeats everything than goddamn woman says, it’s like I can’t escape her no matter where I fuckin’ go” Karl groans in a slightly childish tone of voice as he trudges forward to sit on one of the docks overlooking the calm water below.

Salvatore slowly moves to join him as he says, “S-she’s right th-though… it r-really isn’t good… f-for you… I smoked e-everyday for m-many years... an-and now I’m p-paying for my i-ignorance… Mother o-only nags at you… b-because she c-cares… and s-she’s always r-right… in the e-end...”

“Oh, fuck what Miranda says, I’m tired of that woman. Always telling us what to do and then thinking that pushing a couple of failed experiments onto us as “gifts” will make up for the fact that she’s disappearing off the face of the planet without a single trace and not telling us when she’ll be back. As far as I’m concerned, when Miranda’s not here, she’s not the boss of me. And the same goes for you, too” Karl says, roughly punching Salvatore in the shoulder.

“I-I don’t… I don’t think th-that’s how this w-works, Karl” Salvatore counters. “Even w-with Mother l-leaving us… f-for a t-time... we still h-have to make s-sure that th-things c-continue on… continue on as p-planned… or e-else we’ll really b-be in trouble… w-when she g-gets back.”

“Maybe,” Karl says thoughtfully, before taking another drag of his cigar. “I don’t know… I just have a sinking feeling that there’s something weird going on behind the scenes and these “gifts”, that she’s giving us, are nothing more than distractions to keep us entertained while she goes and does… whatever the fuck it is she plans on doing while she’s gone.”

Salvatore pauses for a moment, briefly remembering back to when Mother first told him that she’d be leaving the village to go “visit someone”, who she believed could be very important to their mission of reviving Mother’s long lost baby, Eva. Although he hadn’t thought very much of it at the time, the mutant man also remembers Mother saying something about how well Nadine would do at “keeping him occupied” until she finally returned, and maybe even after that, too. But why would Mother Miranda want or need him to be “occupied” when she got back? Wouldn’t she want to share her findings with him so they could work toward creating a vessel to revive Eva in? Wouldn’t she want to see and speak to him again after being away for so long?

Or maybe… could… could Karl actually be onto something here? Salvatore felt terrible doubting Mother Miranda, but he’d be lying if he said that Karl didn’t have a point about Mother’s behavior seeming odd, now that he was in the proper headspace to go back and analyze the memory properly, at least.

“B-but… if Mother h-has gone o-out of her w-way… to make sure that w-we won’t be l-lonely... w-while she’s away… isn’t th-that a… a good th-thing… doesn’t that m-mean she c-cares a-bout us... enough to… e-enough to do something l-like this?” Salvatore asks nervously, watching the younger man intently as he contemplates his response.

“I guess so, at least when you word it like that, it does. But something tells me there’s more to this than she’s led us to believe. She’s got something planned, and she’s definitely after something, and once she gets her hands on it, who the hell knows what’ll happen… whatever it is though, I doubt it’ll be very good, for any of us.”

“D-don’t say th-things l-like that… I-I’m sure M-Mother has a-a reason… a reason w-why she’s leaving… an-and if she d-doesn’t tell us w-what it is… b-before she leaves… th-then Im sure… I’m sure sh-she’ll tell u-us when she g-gets back… she’ll l-let us in o-on her p-plan… wh-when she’s ready… an-and then… once e-everything is… said a-and done… we c-can revive… r-revive Eva… and b-be a real f-family… a-at long l-last… isn’t th-that what w-we a-all want, after a-all… a f-family?” Salvatore asks, hoping this was doing something to ease the younger man’s clearly agitated mind.

What on earth it was that was causing so much turmoil as it flew around inside Karl’s head, Salvatore had no idea. But something about the bespectacled man’s unusually contemplative and concerned mood, coupled with the fact that he’d only punched Salvatore once since his arrival, was beginning to leave an acidic taste in the deformed man’s mouth.

Karl really and truly thought something was wrong, and the younger man’s continued insistence upon this fact was beginning to make Salvatore very very anxious.

Perhaps it was the unusually good and excited mood that Salvatore was in due to the near arrival of his gift, or maybe it was that soft spot for Karl I mentioned earlier, but regardless of the reason, Salvatore felt the odd need to help alleviate the younger man’s bad mood, just like he used to do for him back when Karl was still barely taller than his shoulder.

Mother Miranda certainly wouldn’t be pleased if she found out that Salvatore had broken his mandatory sobriety despite her explicit orders to avoid smoking so his experiment results wouldn't be hindered. That being said however, Miranda always seemed to want her 4 children to get along and be close, like real siblings, so Salvatore supposed that he could allow himself a break from his smoking break so long as, if Miranda did manage to find out somehow, he could get himself out of trouble by spinning it as a rare moment of sibling bonding between the oldest and youngest siblings, rather than the reality of the situation.

“I… I’ll t-take that cigar… if you’re n-not gonna smoke it… th-that is” Salvatore says, a small chuckle escaping him when Karl cheers in delight, practically throwing both the lighter and the cigar into the deformed man’s hands.

Salvatore’s first breath of the cigar is nothing short of heavenly once he finally lights it and takes a drag, and its moments like these when the mutant man finds himself secretly grateful that Karl hasn’t listened to a goddamn word Mother Miranda has said in nearly 4 decades.

A long period of silence passes as both brothers merely sit beside one another and secretly enjoy each other’s company.

“Miranda let me pick my gift first, so I didn’t get to see where the others went. Who did you end up with?” Karl asks, finally breaking the silence.

“T-the… the sh-short one,” Salvatore replies, “with b-blue skin, black h-hair, a-and, uh… oh, an-and white d-dots… all o-over her… l-like freckles… fins t-too”

“Oh ya, I remember that one. Gorgeous little thing, she was” Karl says, nodding his head in appreciation as a devilish smile spreads across his unshaven lips. “With quite the… voluptuous figure too, if I remember correctly.”

“I… well… I-I don’t know i-if… I d-didn’t... shut up...” Salvatore mumbles under his breath, taking a long drag from his cigar as Karl throws his head back laughing like a hyena at his older brother’s sudden bashfulness.

“Ah, come on, Sal, don’t be such a downer all the fuckin’ time, I’m just teasing. I know you still think about shit like that, too, even if you’ve managed to convince Alcina and everybody else that you’re just an innocent little follower who hasn’t had an independent, or dirty thought of his own since the cadou took hold. You used to be a fuckin’ doctor for crying out loud, and you’re still annoyingly the person Miranda goes to first whenever she has a new experiment in mind, cuz you’re smart AND she can trust you. You might look like you fell off the truck that was taking you and your fishy friends to market, but I’ve known you too long for that bullshit act of yours to work on me.”

“Act?” Salvatore asks, genuinely confused by what Karl means.

“You know, that stupid fuckin’ “moronic freak” act you do whenever Miranda’s around. The one where you act like you don’t know what the fuck is going on or what something is so that she’ll take pity on how stupid and childish you’re acting and give you more attention. It’s pathetic to watch and I’m gettin’ sick of seeing you do it all the time. Knock it off, you’re better than that.”

“I’ll… um… b-be sure not to… to m-make it s-seem as… uh… I’ll k-keep that in m-mind” Salvatore finally says, casting his gaze down to his pants for a moment, unsure how to feel about how… friendly and kind Karl was being all of a sudden. Salvatore knew Karl secretly cared about him, the brat does far too many conveniently nice things for him throughout the year for him not to, but hearing the younger man voice his surprisingly high opinion of him was definitely shocking, though still quite touching, all the while.

“W-which gift… d-did you end u-up… getting, Karl? I d-didn’t get t-the chance to… to s-see the others… M-Mother only showed me Nadi-er… my g-gift” Salvatore asks, deciding, at the last second, against using his gift’s real name lest Karl be given even more artillery to tease and riddle him with.

“Eh, just some tall dark haired broad. I think Miranda said something about her being Indian, or something along those lines.”

“O-oh… d-did Mother say a-anything about… whether she’s actually f-from here… o-or did she immigrate… f-from India?” Salvatore asks, tilting his head curiously as this new information about Karl’s gift piques his interest.

Karl stares at Salvatore with a look of confusion for a moment, his mouth opening and closing silently like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words for it. Until, “Aren’t Indians from America?”

The sound of Salvatore’s right palm making firm and painful contact with the back of Karl’s head echoes across the reservoir almost as loudly as the following cry of pain from the man himself.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?” Karl roars angrily, pushing himself to his feet while he rubs at the back of his head, hat lopsided and barely hanging on to his head and green glasses no longer perched upon his nose, likely sinking to the murky lake floor just below the docks they were sitting on.

“I d-didn’t spend… th-the better part o-of 15 years… p-pounding an education... i-into y-your th-thick head... for you t-to say… f-for you to b-be spouting dumb shit… l-like that” Salvatore growls in annoyance, eying the taller man with a look that even he wouldn’t dare argue against, at least not with Sal he wouldn’t.

It’s moments like these when Salvatore is very happy that Karl, for as strong and fearless as he is now as a fully grown adult, is still just a little bit afraid of him after all these years. Not because of anything bad or horrifically traumatic of course, especially considering how often Salvatore had gone out of his way to ensure Karl had the least traumatic upbringing he could possibly provide the young boy, given both their situations. As much as he hated to admit it, even Karl would agree that Salvatore had done a pretty decent job of not fucking him up anymore than he already was, which the younger man would secretly always be thankful for. However, even a person as naively patient and serving toward others as Salvatore had his breaking point, and all it took was one especially bad day, resulting in the one and only time Salvatore has ever left a mark upon the younger man’s skin, for Karl to realize that Salvatore was the last person in this godforsaken village he wanted to purposefully make an enemy out of.

Thankfully, their relationship never suffered negatively from that one-off event, but it did force the two to come to a mostly unspoken agreement that has remained present and active, if slightly ignored at certain times, from that point forward. Agreement or not however, Salvatore could never bring himself to harm Karl like that again, even if he wanted to, which was probably the main reason why Karl was still the most comfortable around him, even after all these years. It was a secret they shared between them, and them alone, and it would be one that he would cherish for the rest of his life, as Karl would secretly cherish the kindness and brotherly love Salvatore had treated him with for all these years. They were brothers, regardless of whether they got along or not, and nothing in the would world would be able to change that.

That being said however, Karl was about to be in for a very rude awakening if he thought he could just do and say whatever the hell he wanted around Salvatore without there being any consequences.

“‘A-aren’t Indians f-from A-America?’ G-good grief... I o-oughta throttle y-you for th-that one” Salvatore grumbles through another drag of his cigar, shaking his head in utter disbelief and disappointment. Karl was so intelligent, and yet he could be so stupid sometimes that it physically hurt Salvatore to think about.

“But there ARE Indians in America, aren’t there? I know I’m not wrong here” Karl defends aggressively, his anger quickly giving way to embarrassment when Salvatore raises his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and annoyance.

“Th-they’re called N-Native Americans... f-first of all... they w-were only c-called I-Indians... b-because the g-guy... the moron who f-first sailed t-to the A-Americas... w-was actually... looking for I-India... the r-real India... b-but back th-then... you h-had to go all th-the way... a-around Africa... to g-get there... but he th-thought h-he could do... d-do it a d-different w-way... he thought h-he could f-find India... by s-sailing straight f-from S-Spain... and g-going around the whole w-world... until h-he came b-back around... an-and hit Asia” Salvatore explained slowly, hoping to maintain his delusion that Karl had, in fact, paid attention to at least some of the lessons he gave the boy throughout their time together, even if it wasn’t actually true.

“But he didn’t. He hit the Americas and started calling the locals Indians cuz the guy, what’s-his-face... Columbine... Columbus... whatever, was dumb enough to think he was in India and not a totally different landmass” Karl finishes, looking like he at least remembered hearing about his information before, which was good enough for Salvatore.

Despite the grimace still etched onto his face, Karl groans in annoyed defeat and slinks back down to sit next to Salvatore, still cradling the back of his head.

“Anyways, as i was saying before I was so rudely interrupted with a goddamn history lesson-”

“You w-want another s-smack?” Salvatore threatens, mildly amused when Karl pauses his dramatic retelling, before sliding just a few inches to the right, away from Salvatore’s preferred disciplining hand.

Coughing slightly, Karl continues. “Anyways… going back to my “finding the silver lining” idea, or whatever the fuck its called. This whole “gift” thing might actually work out kinda nice for me in the long run, especially since the one I got looked like she was strong and could handle herself in a rough and tumble environment. If she proves herself, I’m planning on turning her into my assistant” Karl explains casually. “As much as I hate working with other people, normally, I’ve got some projects that would really benefit from a second pair of hands, so I’m attempting to make a “silver lining” moment out of this bullshit “gift” thing Miranda’s tryin to do and just hope and pray that things work out in my favor. Though, to be fair, if things with this girl don’t go well, I could always use her body for a cool idea I’ve had cooked up for a while now. What about you? What are you planning on doing with your new little toy once it finally arrives?”

Salvatore merely shrugs his shoulders. “It w-would be nice… i-if we c-could be f-friends… somehow… but…”

“Ya… you’re not exactly working with the latest and greatest set up, huh? Even a mutant girl might need a little bit to get adjusted to a face like that” Karl says.

“That’s c-certainly one way o-of p-putting it” Salvatore replies dejectedly.

Karl flinches slightly, which surprises Salvatore, since the younger man has a habit of caring very little for how his words affect those around him. Why on earth was he being so considerate, all of a sudden?

“Look, uh… what I meant to say was that… ok, so maybe you’re not like, the best looking guy ever, but like…” Karl stammers and stutters, trying desperately to figure out what he wants to say but seemingly coming up short every time.

Salvatore narrows his eyes again, suspicion returning. “You’re h-hiding something f-from me… w-what are you a-after, Karl?” Salvatore asks seriously, fixing the younger man with a stern look that he knows Karl recognizes.

“Hey, don’t you give me that fuckin’ look. I am too fuckin’ old for you to be looking at me like that, what am I, 12?” Karl asks.

“You c-certainly act l-like it… most of th-the time” Salvatore grumbles under his breath.

Karl clearly heard him, but knew better than to argue with the water not even a foot below where the two were currently sitting, his sunglasses having already taken a nice little dive as punishment for his big mouth. Salvatore might have only agreed to speak with Karl because the latter had demanded it, but they were still very much in Salvatore’s territory, and it wasn’t even a question of who had the topographical advantage should an “argument” actually break out between them.

Karl is strong, nobody can deny that. But Salvatore has the home advantage, and they both know it.

After a moment of tense staring, Karl finally breaks first, sighing heavily before tossing his finished cigar cap into the water below them, a crime Salvatore briefly contemplates knocking the younger man in for, before deciding against it, knowing, with his luck, that it would only come back to bite him in the ass later.

“Alright look,” Karl finally says, a look of frustrated determination on his face, “I don’t know what Miranda really has planned past her whole “get a suitable vessel for Eva” obsession, or what she’s really after on this mission of hers… but something about this whole situation going on recently just doesn’t feel right to me, and I think we need to do something about it before something bad happens and we all somehow end up dead. Now, I'm not 100% sure why I’m talking about this with the head of Miranda’s fuckin’ fanclub, but considering what my other 2 options were it wasn’t like I had much of a damn choice. My only saving grace right now is the fact that you’ll at least occasionally listen to fuckin’ reason, given your gaping maw can be yanked from Miranda’s tit long enough to hear me out, that is. It’s certainly better than my chances with Lady Super-sized Bitch and Crazy Psycho Doll, over there.”

“Are you s-sure you’re n-not just being p-paranoid?” Salvatore asks slowly, not wanting to offend Karl by outright stating he didn’t believe the younger man’s hunch, but also trying to figure out if Karl actually has something to be concerned about, or if he’s just looking for an excuse to badmouth Miranda.

“No, no no no, don’t you do this to me too, Sal” Karl begs in frustration. “You can go about the rest of your life loving the absolute shit out of that crazy woman if you want to and I won’t say a goddamn thing about it, but I need you to promise me, and I mean promise me, that if you see or hear something weird regarding Miranda and this little “trip” she’s about to go on, you come tell me so that we can at least make sure our own asses are covered when shit hits the fan.”

“Well… I-I uh…”

“Come on, Sal. None of these psychotic assholes have ever had my back like you, and that’s exactly the reason why I’m telling you all this” Karl says honestly, catching Salvatore off guard with the oddly familiar wording.

“I know I can be a royal fucking pain in the ass most of the time and that I’m not always the… nicest to you… even though you did kinda do... a bit for me here and there when I was a little tyke... But none of that matters now, because even if Miranda isn’t trying to hide something from us, with the two of us banded together, we could do whatever the hell we wanted while she’s gone, and neither of the other shitheads would be able to tell us otherwise. What do you say, Sal? Come on, you and me, together, just like when I was a kid, remember?” Karl asked excitedly, his eyes shimmering in boyish glee as he spouts off all the things they’d be able to get away with when Miranda finally left, the torment they’d be able to unleash upon Alcina being a particular favorite of Karl’s, it would seem.

Salvatore remained silent for a moment, contemplating the deal he’d just been given.

It’s… not a terrible deal, at least compared to some of the previous deals Salvatore has been offered in the past. It wasn’t like him agreeing to “ally” himself with Karl was a direct declaration of war against Mother Miranda or anything like that, merely a mutual effort that would guarantee safety for both him and Karl should Mother’s plan not go exactly as she wanted, which scientific experiments were known to do. Not to mention that giving Alcina a good messing with did sound like quite a bit of fun.

Maybe… maybe Karl was right. Maybe Salvatore was being a bit too much of a stick in the mud. It was just Karl after all, who Salvatore had practically raised, starting from the boy’s arrival into the family at 6 years old and more or less up until his factory was completed just after his 22nd birthday. Karl could certainly be a handful for even the most powerful individuals, but even on his worst days, he always found some backwards, convoluted way to apologize for his behavior.

“W-well… I-I’m not s-sure… I d-don’t know how I f-feel about… about d-doing things th-that Mother… wouldn’t a-approve of… just b-because sh-she’s gone...”

“But...” Karl continued for him.

“B-but I suppose… k-keeping each other u-updated… when we f-find… or h-hear s-something weird is… wouldn’t be… wouldn’t be th-the worst idea… in th-the world… e-even if it just t-turns out that… we w-were just being p-paranoid.”

“Excellent! That’s just what I was hoping to hear” Karl says triumphantly, standing up.

“A-are you l-leaving, already?”

“Ya” Karl affirms, “I’ve got work to do at the factory, and based on the look of things here, you were busy with a project of your own it looks like.”

Salvatore nods, pocketing his freshly finished cigar cap for later, proper, disposal. “I c-can’t even remember… the l-last time I… p-properly cleaned this p-place… it l-looks so m-much nicer… even w-without being f-fully finished…”

“Good for you. My own property could probably do with a good cleaning of its own now that you mention it. If nothing else though, I’m sure your new little lady friend will appreciate that you picked up the place for her arrival.”

“Y-you think s-so?” Salvatore asks.

Karl shrugs his shoulders. “Who knows with chicks, they’re unpredictable, but I suppose it’s possible. Then again, maybe not considering who you ended up with. I don’t know the full story or anything like that, but based on what I heard from Miranda, that blue bitch you went with was the craziest one of them all. Practically tore her pod apart the first time Miranda tried to put her in it, and caused all sorts of other damage throughout her mutation phase too, not that I blame the poor girl. I’d tear that whole lab right out from under the surface and set it ablaze if I could. Going back down there after so many years… I was puking like you for the rest of the fuckin’ day when I finally got out of that hellhole. Stomach still feels a little nauseous if I’m being honest...”

“I-I’m sorry… to h-hear that” Salvatore says, though Karl is quick to brush him off.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy and I can handle myself. But do we have a deal? Keep each other in the loop whenever we hear anything… strange or abnormal about Mother Miranda or her special little mission?”

Salvatore pauses for a moment, thinking one last time about whether this was a good idea, before finally shrugging his shoulders and nodding. “Y-yes, we h-have a deal… b-but just remember something, Karl… 40 years d-didnt do… nearly as m-much for your p-poker face as i-it did for your s-smart mouth. If I c-catch you lying to m-me-”

“Ya, ya, ya, you’ll chop up my body and toss my remains in the lake to feed the fishes, I’ve heard that one a million times before” Karl interrupts. “Don’t worry, Sal, if I was planning on lying to you at any point throughout this process, you’d have already caught me by now. Even I know better than to try pulling a fast one over the walking fuckin’ lie detector.”

“I’m h-holding you to th-that, Karl” Salvatore calls over his shoulder as the younger man stands and begins heading toward the gate to return to his factory, chuckling lightly when Karl returns his warning with a middle finger.

“Take it easy, old man. And let me know how that crazy fish bitch you ended up with turns out. If all else fails I’ll turn her into a nice stuffed pillow for you” the bespeckled man says, throwing his head back in laughter as though he’d told a funny joke, before adding, “And I’d better get my sunglasses back within the week, or else I’m draining the whole fucking reservoir so I can find them myself. Don’t think I won’t do it, old man.”

Salvatore merely returns the middle finger, a response that Karl seems to appreciate, if the wolfish howl of laughter the younger man let's out says anything, at least.

‘Cheeky brat. Always plotting something’ Salvatore thinks fondly to himself as he slips back into the water to continue cleaning the reservoir, quickly grabbing the green sunglasses that had sunk to the bottom and pocketing them to return to Karl later. He pauses for a moment when a thought crosses his mind.

Within the past 24 hours, both Mother Miranda and Karl had been… unusually kind and affectionate toward Salvatore, which pleased but also confused the twisted man.

Karl was easy enough to explain away, the younger man has been flip flopping between periods where he likes and spends time with Salvatore, and periods where he’d sooner set himself on fire than be in the same room as his older brother, since the day they met, so as far as Salvatore was concerned, Karl’s behavior was hardly breaking news, though perhaps a bit surprising given everything going on with Mother’s gifts. Mother Miranda, however, was a different story.

Usually more distant and hands-off in her parenting ways, Miranda had been uncharacteristically affectionate toward the disfigured man the night before, going as far as to openly praise Salvatore for all his hard work and even hold him without being asked to. It had been such a wonderful experience at the time and yet, the more Salvatore thought about it, the stranger and stranger the behavior seemed, especially now that Karl had confronted him.

Speaking of Karl… Mother seemed quite upset with him when she spoke of him the night before. Going as far as to badmouth him specifically, calling him a ‘conniving little snake’, despite the younger man usually being her favorite by a country mile. Had Karl done something to incur Mother’s wrath? Is that why Karl came all the way over here to make that deal with him? Is he trying to rally the 4 lords to rebel against Mother Miranda?

No... No, no no no, that couldn’t be true, there’s no way.

Even Karl, for all his incredible intellect and hunger for power, was too afraid of Mother Miranda to ever try anything as drastic as that. That being said however, even though Salvatore doubted that Karl would ever try to rebel against Mother Miranda, it did seem like the younger man was trying very hard to get Salvatore onto his side for some reason. In fact, both Karl AND Mother Miranda appeared to be trying to sway the eldest Lord in their favor, though for what reason, he still had no idea.

It was definitely something that made Salvatore slightly wary of the both of them, though.

There’s nothing in this world that Salvatore hates more than doubting his beloved Mother, but even he couldn’t write this oddity of a situation off as a mere one-off incident or sudden change of Miranda’s tune. Mother has been acting very strangely recently, doing things she wouldn’t normally do and acting overly affectionate as if to try and throw everyone off her tracks, and the longer Salvatore thought about it, the more he couldn’t help but wonder, as painful as it was to admit, if maybe Karl was actually onto something.

Logically, he knows that Karl is just being Karl, looking to stir up some trouble for his own, and supposedly Salvatore’s, amusement, and that Mother Miranda is likely just trying to enjoy the time she has left with her children before she leaves on her mission. However, something in the back of Salvatore’s mind can’t help but wonder if maybe there’s more going on than he’s been led to believe by either of them. And as if this situation couldn’t get any more confusing for the deformed man, now his overly anxious and analytical mind was beginning to understand what Karl meant when he said there was something strange going on, no matter how much the rest of him practically screamed to just listen to Miranda like he always has.

Shaking his head of his scrambled thoughts and turning his focus back to his work, Salvatore decides that the best thing he can do right now is keep an ear to the ground on both Mother Miranda AND Karl, just to be fair. He still isn't sure if he plans on being 100% honest with Karl regarding their deal, but he supposes that maintaining a good relationship with the younger man wouldn’t hurt in the event he turned out to be right and Mother’s plan backfired on all of them.

Besides, if Karl did turn out to be right, and Salvatore was ready for if things took a bad turn, he could still be there to rescue Mother Miranda and ensure she’s brought to safety along with them. He’ll have successfully fulfilled his family duties to both Karl and Mother Miranda, without ever having to actually choose which side he was definitively on. A perfect plan if the mutant man says so himself. Now the only thing left to do between now and whenever things started getting interesting was work on the reservoir and wait for his gift to finally arrive, his mood regarding this whole situation greatly improved thanks to Karl’s visit.

Hopefully, if things went well, he’d have some exciting news to tell the younger man the next time they met up.

Maybe he’d even have a new friend to introduce.

44 notes · View notes

closedafterdark · 3 years

Text

Past

Dreamcatcher Bora x Male Reader

9453 words

categories: smut, oral, anal, mommy kink, detective! sua

Read on AFF

“... okay oppa, thanks for letting me know.”

Senior Detective in-training Son Jooyeon ends the phone call before sighing deeply. Closing her eyes, she pinches her forehead together as she processes the information that was just received.

“What did he say?” Jooyeon opens her eyes and is met by Lieutenant Hyunjung sitting on the corner of her desk and Detective Jinsook sitting backwards on a chair.

“He was able to rendezvous with the source the Lieutenant provided him. Apparently he ran into one of the prisoners from the high profile Gangnam precinct escape. They’re looking into interviewing her neighbors.”

“So she was the person who lived in that empty apartment we went into?” Jinsook asked.

Jooyeon nodded. “I had a feeling based on this.” She held up the calling card left behind. “But thanks to oppa telling us about what he learned, we might be able to have a solid lead on the case.”

“Hopefully Mudkip’s gonna be alright. That source he asked me to contact did not sound happy to hear his name mentioned.” Hyunjung said, sipping on her bubble tea.

“Did you really have to give him that nickname?” Jinsook asked as she took the bubble tea from the lieutenant’s hand and took a sip.

“He and I are the same age after all,” Hyunjung said as she twirled a pen between her fingers. “I would rather give up bubble tea than call him oppa like the rest of you. Hyunjung hates calling people oppa.”

“That’s probably why Hyunjung is still single…” Jinsook replied, chewing on the soft pearls.

“Hyunjung is single because she wants to be! Hyunjung is not like Jiyeon or Jooyeon who open their legs up for their coworker.” Jooyeon’s eyes widened upon hearing this before her face began to redden with embarrassment.

As Lieutenant Hyunjung and Detective Jinsook began to take turns drinking bubble tea and arguing about the Lieutenant’s love life, Jooyeon stared at the computer screen. It was a series of still images from the CCTV footage of the Gangnam prison escape.

“BlackPink is the revolution…” she said to herself. “Please be safe, oppa.”

“So you’re telling me you slept with this bimbo?”

“... yes. And cut me some slack, how was I supposed to know she was a wanted criminal my precinct is after? It’s not like I go to every woman I meet and say ‘Hey, are you by any chance involved in organized crime?’ I’d probably be left in the hotel room naked and without my wallet.”

“Fair enough. Was she at least tight though?”

“Now I’m starting to remember how much of a pervert you are, Kim Bora.”

You and Detective Bora were currently en route to the apartment Jooyeon and Jinsook searched. Both of you went to the hotel you and Chaeyoung stayed at and unsurprisingly found it completely empty. The concierge informed you that she checked out twenty minutes after you left. The barren streets of Seoul at night made it a lot easier for you to drive without being pressured to increase your speed by someone behind you like during the daytime.

Arriving at the location Jooyeon told you about, Bora got out of the car and winked at you before swaying her hips as she entered the apartment complex. Sighing deeply, you followed suit.

Hearing a firm knock from the outside, a tenant opens their door to be greeted by Bora flashing her badge.

“Sorry to disturb you so late, ma’am. We just wanted to ask you a few questions about your neighbor across the hall.”

“Ah yes, Park Chaeyoung. Such a sweet girl. She kept to herself a lot but always greeted me and asked how my day was going whenever we saw each other. Is there something wrong?”

“We have reason to believe she may have gotten kidnapped.” Bora said, deciding to withhold the information from the elderly tenant.

“Oh my… Chaeyoung is a sweet girl. I don’t know why anyone would try to harm her. I’m sorry I can’t be of any help, detectives.”

“It’s okay, ma’am. Thank you for your time.” you replied.

“Oh, wait!” The two of you turned around. “Chaeyoung hasn’t been home for a few days. Normally she lets me know when she’s going to be away so I can watch her dogs. But I found it strange she didn’t tell me anything this time.”

You placed your hand under your chin, deep in thought. Bora wrote down the woman’s statement on her phone.

“Are you two a couple?” she suddenly asked, getting your attention. As you were about to say something, Bora immediately responded.

“We are, thank you for noticing! We’ve been together for almost six years now.” She said, taking her arm into yours.

“It must be nice to work with someone you love. Although I can only imagine it gets stressful thinking about them whenever you’re not together, especially in your occupation.”

“It does, but we always promise to come back to each other. Isn’t that right, honey?” Bora asked, blinking her eyes quickly as she flashes you a hauntingly sweet smile. You looked at her and the elderly woman, unsure of how to respond. You end up scratching the back of your neck before smiling back at Bora.

“Have a nice evening, detectives. Make sure to eat something filling.” the woman said as Bora dragged you away, clinging onto your arm tightly.

When the two of you reach your car, you remove Bora’s arm from yours. She gives you another mischievous smirk as you look at her, annoyed.

“Did you really have to tell her we are a couple? And what’s with the whole six years thing?”

“Calm down. It’s not like she’ll do a background check on us. And I did it just in case she’s one of Chaeyoung’s informants. You and I were friends six years ago, remember? Plus, six is one letter away from sex. The very thing I offered you many times in that same timeframe.”

It was a chilly November evening in Seoul. You were playing a video game on your phone as you sat in a parked car outside of an apartment complex. Frustrated at being unable to clear the last part of the mission, you jumped slightly when you heard a knock coming from outside your mirror. You turn your head and are greeted warmly by Kim Bora’s smile and her waving excitedly at you. Motioning her to come inside, you unlocked the passenger side door.

“Hi, Bora.” you said to her the moment she closed the door.

“I’m so excited, I haven’t been to the amusement park in forever!” Bora squealed as she squished her cheeks with her gloves before turning on the seat warmer. Shaking your head, you smiled as you reached over and put the seatbelt on Bora. Her face started to redden from your close proximity to each other, something you failed to notice. After hearing the clicking noise of the seatbelt locking, you turned on the car and headed off.

“Bora, slow down! Hey, wait for me!” You couldn’t keep up with the happy, ball of energy that was Kim Bora as she immediately ran inside the park after getting her ticket scanned. You managed to catch up to her, panting heavily and remembering just how out of shape you were. Bora stood before you in a pair of dark jeans, knee high boots, and multiple layers of clothing under a tan coat. She complimented the look with a thick scarf protecting her neck.

“Hurry! I want hot chocolate!” Bora said to you, smiling widely.

“We… should rest… a bit. About… to die.” you replied.

Bora puffed her cheeks and pouted at you, kicking your leg softly. You laughed in response and removed Bora’s scarf. Before she could protest, you wrapped it delicately, making sure she would be warm. Her cheeks reddened once more as Bora stared at you wide-eyed, looking at how intensely you were focused on making sure her scarf was worn properly. Satisfied with your work, you tapped Bora’s shoulder and walked away.

“Aren’t you coming?” You said to Bora, turning around as she noticed a considerable amount of distance between the two of you. Rubbing her cheeks once more, she quickly ran to catch up with you.

The two of you walked throughout the crowds of people, a mixture of families taking out their children and young couples in love on a date. Colorful lights and various sounds filled the path you were going through as your eyes scanned where to begin. Bora meanwhile was behind you, happily sipping on her piping hot chocolate.

“I was so close!”

The sounds of a target being hit bring your attention to your left as you see a young man disappointed, putting down the pellet gun. His girlfriend next to him is rubbing his shoulders, slightly hugging him and telling him it’s alright. You saw a stuffed teddy bear tied to the wall and realized he was planning on winning it for her. As the couple leaves, you approach the stand and pay the small fee in order to take your shot. Bora catches up to you, slightly confused.

“I thought we were going to go on the roller coaster?”

“We are. But I wanted to see if I have what it takes here first.”

You’ve never played this game before, your only experience with guns being through various video games. But you were certain this wouldn’t be too difficult. Closing your left eye, your right eye focuses on the target ahead. You pull the trigger, only to be disappointed as the ball released from the gun misses and hits the wall behind. Coughing slightly, you turned around to see Bora staring at you intently as she continued to sip on her hot chocolate. Never one to back down from a challenge, your pride got the best of you as you spent an unnecessary amount of money in order to try and win the stuffed bear for Bora. Try being the keyword as by your final chance, you managed to only hit 7 out of the 9 necessary targets. Sighing, you scratched the back of your neck as you approached Bora. She hands you her hot chocolate cup before paying the attendant. You watched as Bora grabbed a hair tie from her wrist and made a quick ponytail. She grabbed the pellet gun and mirrored your earlier actions.

Your mouth was agape as you watched Kim Bora simultaneously hit 8 targets before missing her final shot. You expected her to be sad afterwards, but she surprised you with her patented smile as she took back her cup and walked away. You bowed to the attendant before catching up to her. The two of you ended up going on the roller coaster ride along with many others.

A few hours later, you tell Bora to wait at a nearby bench as you have to quickly use the restroom. She happily hums to herself, before taking out her phone and going through the photos the two of you took together. Visibly smiling in each photo, Bora takes note of the small things you did for her throughout the evening. Buying her a hot chocolate, fixing her scarf, taking off your beanie and putting it on her. With her focus solely on her phone, she failed to notice you creep up behind her.

You tapped her shoulder, causing Bora to jump slightly. She turns around and doesn’t see anything until she is met face-to-face with a giant white teddy bear. Her eyes widened as she saw you smiling at her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“I didn’t actually have to use the restroom.” you said.

“How did you get this? We spent so much money and the attendant told me they don’t sell the prizes.”

“What can I say? I used my patented charm to convince him.”

You handed Bora the teddy bear. She held it in her hands, her eyes beginning to well up with tears. She looks at it for a few seconds before getting up and hugging you. You pat her back, a bit surprised at her sudden action, but happy she likes the present you gave her.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

The two of you were outside the entrance to Bora’s apartment complex, Bora tightly squeezing the teddy bear you got her. The rosy tint of her cheeks failed to hide the feelings she had the entire evening.

“Happy Birthday, Kim Bora.” you said.

“Thanks.” she replied, still blushing.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” You turned around and were met with Bora standing on her tiptoes and planting a delicate kiss on your lips.

“Do you… want to come inside for ramen?”

“How was I supposed to know ramen was codeword for sex?” you asked.

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because I actually dressed up to see you? Maybe because you took me out on a date for my birthday? Or is it because I gave you a kiss and told you I liked you? God, you were such a dense asshole back then. How much more obvious did I have to be?”

“Bora, I…”

“Save it. Let’s just focus on the case.”

Bora had you drive her to her apartment, the very same thing you did six years ago. The two of you have changed since then. She was no longer the shy, timid person you remembered. She was still playful, but had a much more mature aura around her. Bora was no longer doubting every decision she made. As the two of you entered her apartment, Bora tossed her bag on the dining room table before removing her coat and tossing it onto the couch.

“Make yourself at home.”

Taking a seat on the couch, you observed her apartment. It had a modest, intimate feel to the place through the use of warm colored furniture and various stuffed animals throughout. Bora made sure guests knew who lived here, with various photos of her framed and placed on the walls.

Hearing a door close, you looked up and were met with Bora sitting next to you. She wore a simple white sleeveless dress, which complimented her curvy features and highlighted her breasts well by displaying a prominent cleavage line. Her hair flowed freely down her beautiful shoulders like a dark brown chocolate fountain, her bangs styled thinly. Bora wore a white snowflake pendant on a pearl necklace that paired nicely with her dreamcatcher inspired earrings. Rounding out the look was a bright red colored lipstick that showed off her triangle shaped upper lip, something you never noticed before.

Despite her cold demeanor, Bora’s soft smile and her warm facial features made you feel welcomed into her home. You found yourself awestruck by her beauty, something you find yourself having taken for granted looking back. Bora brushes strands of hair behind her ear with one hand - a simple act that entrances you.

“So… what did you want to talk about?” you asked, clearing your throat slightly.

Bora grabs a tablet from the nearby table and hands it to you. Unlocking it, you see various case files on the screen at once. Each has a photo and brief description of the information you saw at the cafe earlier.

“They’re split into two subgroups - Black and Pink, hence their name being BlackPink. Kim Jisoo and Park Chaeyoung are the “black” subgroup. Deadly, special forces trained. They execute the plans and are not above using whatever methods it takes to get the job done, including using their bodies to seduce their targets. But I’m sure you know that since you just fucked one of them not even six hours ago. I have to give you props though, that Park Chaeyoung looks like one tight slut.”

“Focus…”

“Right. Kim Jennie and Lalisa Manoban are the “pink” subgroup. By appearance alone, you would think the subgroups should be switched. They are the masterminds of the group. Do you remember that high-profile robbery that caused every traffic light in the metropolitan area to cycle through each color every second? That was them. It was a way to create a distraction so that officers would be assigned to direct traffic as they commenced their heist.”

“Well, now we know one of them is not afraid of being caught undercover.”

“More like caught under your covers, am I right?”

“Kim Bora.”

“Okay, fine. You’re no fun.” Bora said, pouting at you.

“How’s Minji?” finally asking the question that has been on your mind for quite some time.

Bora sighed. “It wasn’t easy for her when you two broke up. She cried for days. You owe me money for the amount of ice cream and tissues I had to spend on her. It took her awhile, but she finally stopped feeling sorry for herself and ran her parent’s shop. We both got into the academy at the same time. She worked her butt off to become Captain. Me… I’m fine being a Senior Detective.”

“Bora, she was the one who broke up with me.”

“And she regretted that decision every day. It’s just… you didn’t only break up with her. You and I were best friends. I never got a text or call from you. Even putting aside my feelings for you, you were always there for me as a friend. I really needed you.”

You processed what Bora just said. The reason you were distant from her was because you didn’t want to accidentally run into Minji. To be reminded of why you weren’t good enough for her. Bora wiped the tears away from her eyes before smiling at you.

“I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, Bora.”

“Just tell me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Was Minji a good kisser?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Was Kim Minji a good kisser?”

Before you even had a chance to respond, Bora gives you a mischievous smirk and climbs onto your lap, her soft thighs resting comfortably on either side of your own. You felt her arms draped behind your neck as her fingers interlocked themselves together.

“You haven’t been able to keep your naughty eyes off me ever since I changed into this dress.”

“Bora, I…”

“Shh. You still haven’t answered my question. How good of a kisser was Minji?” Bora bit down on her lower lip as you feel her slowly grinding against your lap. “Was it like this?” she said, leaning down until you feel her soft lips finally press against yours.

Your mind goes blank, unable to think about anything but Bora’s lips against your own as she continues to create friction between the two of you.

“Or was it like this?” Bora said, her first kiss followed up by another. The second kiss was a bit deeper than her initial quick peck. Your eyes widened, stunned at how quickly things escalated. You felt your own lips slowly being to reciprocate. It was as if you acted on instinct, wanting to savor the taste of Bora’s sinful lips and the unhindered lust that built up inside you as you fall under a spell cast by the beautiful woman currently on your lap who confessed her feelings to you all those years ago. You haven’t had a drought from the soft touch of a woman, in fact you might have had too much these past few days, but the gaze of pure lust and sexual desire etched upon Kim Bora’s face when her lips part away from yours made you feel like you haven’t been intimate with a woman in years.

“Bora…” you whimpered, a bit frustrated at the loss of her lips against yours.

“You like the taste of my lips more, don’t you?” Bora asked as her tongue licked your lips before she moved in for another kiss. Her soft, creamy lips tasted sweet against your own. When you pulled away from her, Bora planted kisses on your jaw before reaching for your hands and placing them on her chest.

“Oh fuck…” a soft, erotic moan escaping from your lips. Bora’s breasts were perfect, each one seeming to fit perfectly in your hand. You massaged them as you have hunger in your eyes from the delicious looking sight of her cleavage line. You planted kisses on her left breast, each leaving an electric feeling on her body. Bora’s erotic moans of pleasure aroused you even more, as the both of you can feel your cock rapidly hardening underneath her crotch. Once you cover her exposed skin with saliva, you repeat the stimulation on the adjacent breast. Bora’s moans repeatedly fill your eardrums as she pushes her tits on to you, smothering your face. Her lower body is grinding against your lap once again. You caress the feeling of Bora’s soft, silky smooth thighs until your sinful hands find their way to her ass, their favorite place to be on a woman. You gently squeeze both cheeks, causing her to release a steady stream of moans before you give her ass two hard slaps, her body slightly jumping in response.

Kissing her breast tenderly, you continue to stimulate her by massaging the other before making eye contact. Both of you had lust in your eyes, wanting to satisfy each other. Bora’s lips reconnect with yours, the intensity making your head spin. Her lipstick taste was addictive, Bora smiling throughout as she sees the marks she has left on your lips and neck. As your tongues fought for control, Bora’s overpowered yours. She pulls away when she begins to run out of breath. The lust-filled smile never leaves her face as she kneels on the ground, unbuttoning your shirt and removing it off your body along with her to use as a cushion. Making quick work of your belt and pants, Bora tosses them far away from you both. She licks her lips upon seeing the noticeable bulge poking from underneath your cotton boxers. You stared down and caught Bora’s gaze, a hauntingly erotic and almost animalistic hunger in her eyes as she grabs ahold of the hemline of your boxers and pulls the very thin fabric down. Your erect cock almost slaps her in the face, the cool air providing you a sense of satisfaction as her eyes widened with excitement.

“Your cock is so nice, baby.” Bora said, her eyes feasting upon your shaft like it was the only thing that could satisfy her cravings. Wettening her lips in preparation, Bora admires your cock, grabbing the base of it before painting a long, saliva-filled stripe until she reaches your tip.

“Oh god…” you moaned as Bora’s tongue continued to drag across the underside of your shaft, lathering your length until she returned to your tip once more. She needily collects the precum leaking out of your slit, exchanging it with a generous amount of her own spit. The liquid reflects nicely against the lighting above as Bora uses her tongue to spread it across your cock, making sure you were fully covered. Seeing your cock glistening with a uniformed coat of her saliva, she begins to stroke you.

Her soft hand feels wonderful on your throbbing cock, the feeling of your length pulsing in her small hand along with the steady stream of moans being released by you motivate Bora to increase her pace. Her hand travels up and down you with ease thanks to her earlier lubrication. She gives you tightly gripped strokes until she reaches the underside of your tip, her delicate fingers tracing your slit and drawing out more precum. Your moans get louder as Bora giggles at the pleasure she is giving you.

“You like that, baby? How I stroke this hard cock of yours?”

“Bora, I do… fuck.” you managed to reply as she continued to use her hand to give you pleasure. “That feels amazing.”

“Do you want me to suck it now?” Bora asked, winking at you while licking her lips. You were unable to speak from the pleasure, merely able to give her a weak nod in response. Bora knew she had you under her control. Any previous resolve or thoughts to fight her off were long gone as the two of you made eye contact and Bora sees you have succumbed to her lustful temptation. Normally, it would have been easy for you to resist a sinful act of seduction like the one Bora has done to you. But deep down, you wanted Bora. You wanted to make things right, make her forget about your obliviousness all those years ago. And now, as Kim Bora is on her knees between your legs, the last thing you see is a devilish smile on her face as she lowers her head and finally parts her mouth with the tip of your cock.

Bora’s lips form a tight seal around your cock, providing you with a euphoric sensation of being inside her mouth for the very first time. Bora slowly begins to bob her head up and down, her tongue dragging across the underside of your shaft as she takes the top half of your cock in and out of her warm, wet mouth. You bring one of your hands to Bora’s head, running your fingers through her dark brown locks before it rests against the back of her head. Despite having a mouth full of cock, Bora looks up at you and does her best to smile sweetly as she feels your hand following along to her bobbing motions. You feel her spit a large amount of built-up saliva inside her mouth onto your cock before using her tongue to apply it onto you.

“Fuck, Bora… that feels amazing.”

Bora spread the spit across your hard shaft, before removing her mouth and giving you another cute pout.

“Baby, I’m upset.”

“H-How come?”

“Are you only going to call me by my name?” she asked, stroking your cock while placing soft kisses on your tip. “I’m on my knees giving you an intimate act of pleasure and you keep just saying Bora.”

“Do you want me to call you Senior Detective then?”

“No, we’re not really roleplaying yet…” Bora said, pretending to think hard. She sucked on your tip lightly, yet applied a suction-like force before releasing it with a loud pop. “Oh, I know! What really turns me on is being called mommy.”

“Mommy?”

Bora nodded her head. Her sweet smile and soft, innocent features were a fierce juxtaposition to the sinful act she was currently performing on you. You would never say this out loud, but Bora looked even more beautiful with your cock in her mouth. Bora’s head bobbed up and down your shaft, earning her soft moans and cries of pleasure from you. As much as you wanted her to continue, you held onto both sides of her head and regretfully removed her from your cock. A bit disappointed, she looked up at you and saw where your attention was at.

Kim Bora distracted you with her breasts.

Out of the women you’ve been intimate with these past several days, Bora had the clear size advantage. You felt yourself almost drooling at the sight of her delicious cleavage, wanting it to be freed from her white dress. Bora straddles your lap once more and instantly feels your lips pressing against her neck, planting soft kisses on her smooth skin that elicit soft gasps from her. You move lower with your kisses, forming a trail downwards as your hands return back onto her chest and cup the one thing that has had your attention ever since you arrived. You assist her in freeing her of the silky dress.

Bora wraps her arms around your neck as she arches her back and allows you to tilt her head as well. You hold onto her wide hips for support as she reaches behind her and undoes the latch of her strapless bra - letting the undergarment fall onto the ground and giving you the perfect view of her round, full breasts.

“Taste me, baby. I know you’ve been dying to.” Bora said as she brought her chest to your face. Having an affinity for left breasts, you bring it into your mouth first. Capturing her right breast and not wanting it to be unattended, you squeezed the soft flesh, reveling in the feeling of the large mound.

“Oh, baby…” Bora said with a long moan that gradually increases in volume as you explored her chest, sucking on her hardening nipples. You make sure to give each breast adequate attention before switching, making sure each was left soaked by your saliva.

“D-Do you like mommy’s tits, baby?” Bora asked, knowing full well what your response was going to be.

Your mouth was muffled by her warm breasts. As such, you gently bit on her nipple as your response.

Bora removes her chest from your face minutes later. You were thankful to finally breathe properly, but saddened by the loss of her warmth. She straightens her back, leaning down and planting a tender kiss on your lips. She slides her body down yours until she is back to her initial position on her knees between your legs. Taking your cock inside her mouth to lubricate you, Bora releases you with another loud pop before the anticipation builds up inside you of what she is going to do. Giving you another playful wink, she takes both of her breasts in her hands and traps your erect shaft in between her soft, pillowy flesh.

She grinds her chest against your lower body, your cock pumping in and out between the slit of her delicious breasts. The saliva she used from her quick blowjob provided just enough lubrication, as the head and upper half of your shaft appeared and just as quickly disappeared in between her warm flesh.

“You like that, baby? The way mommy’s warm tits snuggle your cock between them?”

“Fuck, mommy… that feels amazing.”

Bora continues to push your hard cock in between the warm, comforting embrace of her breasts as her hands squeezed the flesh tightly. She tries her best to lick the head of your cock as if it was a delicious treat. Making eye contact with you throughout, you watched her heavy, seductive eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

“M-Mommy, I’m gonna cum.”

Bora is too focused on trying to lick the head of your cock that she fails to hear your warning as she rubs her breasts up and down your length.

“Mommy, I’m cumming…”

“Cum for me, baby. Paint mommy’s tits with your cum.” Bora replied, increasing the pace at which her breasts moved, using her hands to squeeze them even tighter around your cock as it appears and reappears from between the soft, pillowy flesh. You moved your hips upward in rhythm with her breasts as you fuck them at a rapid pace.

“Mommy… I’m cumming!”

Your orgasm relieves the heavy weighted pressure that was building up inside you. Your cock throbbed in between her breasts as you felt a burst of semen erupt from your tip. Her breasts covered the head of your shaft as it sent hot, thick cum into her cleavage and lubricated you with each subsequently weakening thrust. Wondering if Bora was going to open her mouth and try to lick your cock like earlier, she instead lets your load splash against her chin and face, the thick liquid coating her creamy skin and beautiful features.

Bora’s innocently sweet smile betrayed the fact her chin and part of her cheeks were covered with your cum. She grinds her breasts against your cock as your orgasm mercifully subsides.

Letting you finally escape her warm, wet cleavage, you watch as Bora’s tongue runs across the base of your cock until she reaches the tip. She draws circles of pure pleasure that send post-orgasm shivers running through your body. Tracing the slit of your cock, she catches the dribbling leftovers of your cum and puts it on her tongue, tasting your sweet nectar. Bora straightens her body to allow you a perfect view of your work. Her smooth, perfect skin and large breasts displaying the large amount of semen you released.

As she rubs the cum onto her skin, the light above you both creates a shiny, slick appearance on her wet chest.

Bora smiles, kissing the tip of your cock deeply as she captures a stream of dripping semen from her cheek and brings it to her mouth, savoring the taste of it. You struggled to catch your breath, having received one of the most powerful orgasms in some time.

“Rest up, baby. We have six years worth of sex to catch up on.” Bora said to you as your eyes began to carry a weight to them. Struggling to keep them open, the last thing you remembered seeing was Bora blowing a kiss at you before heading to her bedroom.

You wake up some time later, unsure of what the current time is. Your body feels heavy and sore. Waiting for your eyes to refocus, you looked down and realized you were currently naked on a couch. The orgasm you had thanks to Bora did a number on you. Seeing that she is not within your range of vision, you slowly get up and begin to look around the apartment.

“Baby!” Bora yelled.

Running for the door, you quickly open it. The bedroom was completely dark. Your hands searched for the light switch. Turning it on, you see Bora tied to the outermost part of her bed frame. She wore a black leather jacket over a black crop top that showed off her trademark cleavage. Her leather material shorts were complimented with black thigh highs. Bora’s simple eyeshadow and red lipstick makeup were highlighted by her soft facial features. She chose to equip herself with a choker and thin necklace running through the bridge of her nose.

She tilted her head up and looked at you, her eyes pleading.

“Bora? W-What happened?”

“Baby…” Bora whimpered. “Minji found out what happened and tied mommy up like this.”

“What?”

“Come closer, baby.”

A bit stunned, you nodded and leaned your ear close to her mouth.

“I want to roleplay. Minji didn’t actually come by, she doesn’t even know my new address.”

Getting back up, you looked down at Bora who shot you an air kiss and winked playfully.

“So Minji learned mommy is a bad girl, right?”

Bora nodded. “She said bad girls deserved to be tied up.”

“Oh yeah? And what else did she say?”

“That since my mouth releases nothing but lies, it should be cleaned properly.”

“Did she say what you should use?” you asked, your cock hardening with each passing moment. You felt it twitch upon hearing Bora’s words.

“She wants you to fuck mommy’s mouth, baby.”

You smiled. “Just wanted you to say it.”

Bora smiled back, shaking her head slightly. “You jerk… you’re lucky I like you.”

She gives your tip a quick peck before you caress both sides of her head and part her lips with your cock. Your initial thrust is anything but soft, slamming your cock into the back of Bora’s wet and anticipating mouth with exceptional force. Gags escape her mouth as your length strikes her throat repeatedly. Tears of joy spill out of the corners of her eyes as you liberally use her for your own personal pleasure. The sight of your cock disappearing into her natural orifice is a sight to behold - a copious amount of spit begins to leak out of her lips and coat your shaft. The messiness of the entire thing arouses you even further, encouraging you to be relentless with your thrusts.

With both of your hands tightly holding the sides of her head, you grab onto her hair and push her deeper to your base. Bora takes every inch of your cock into her mouth as her throat has to quickly adjust to your sudden rapid thrusts. You let out a long and satisfied moan, the feeling of finally being intimate with someone who was once very important in your life made the entire thing even more pleasurable.

You pushed Bora’s head deeper, giving her several more thrusts until you released her, allowing your cock to slide out of her mouth. The saliva glistens in the light as you disconnect the thin string that connects you and her mouth together. You squeezed her cheeks, causing her to look up at you.

“Mommy liked choking on my cock, didn’t she?” you said, giving her cheeks a tighter squeeze.

“As if. You weren’t even fucking mommy’s mouth hard enough. Is that how you fuck Minji’s mouth?” Bora spat back.

Anger welled up inside you, but you decided not to say anything. You went to the mini fridge inside Bora’s room and grabbed a bottle of water. As you took a sip, you processed your next move.

“Is baby mad mommy teased his facefucking skills?” Bora sneered.

Taking a quick swig of water, you let out a satisfied hum and wiped the remaining droplets from your lips with the back of your hand. You kneeled down and untied her wrists. The cloth-like restraints were bound tightly, but were able to be removed with the help of a bit of pressure. Once unraveled, you gently massaged the tender skin.

“Is this a new technique? I’ve never seen someone not have marks.”

“One of the detectives from a different precinct showed me it.” Bora said, rubbing her own wrists more. “Said she learned it from her Japanese colleague.”

“I should keep that in mind.” you said, laughing.

With your cock still glistening thanks to Bora’s juices, you take a moment to catch your breath before turning Bora around and rubbing your cock against her inner thighs. They instinctively sandwich your shaft between them as you begin to thrust once more. Both of you let out a satisfied moan as your cock grinds against Bora’s lips and her delicious thighs.

Her muscular thighs possessed a unique softness to them as you felt her slowly leaking onto your cock between them. And while you certainly enjoyed fucking her breasts, Bora’s thighs were thick, wide - and warm. Your cock was nuzzled comfortably between them as you squeezed Bora’s breasts as support. This allows you to increase your pace, her natural wetness allowing your cock to glide between her suffocatingly thick thighs. Bora’s body was taking the euphoric feeling of sex to new heights - the two of you echoing each other in loud moans. You savored the feeling of her creamy thighs jiggling against your body with each thrust. The tip of your cock grazes against her lips while your balls slap each side of her thighs, causing Bora to whine out in pleasure as you continue to revel in your own. Feeling the build of pressure inside you, you gradually lower the speed of your thrusts and allow the both of you to catch your breath.

Bora smiles sweetly at you, and although you have seen it many times from her throughout the day, this particular one fully displays her genuine feelings for you. Taking her into your embrace, you bend slightly to kiss her. Her lips were soft, inviting and contained a certain playfulness that made you happy to have her in your arms.

The two of you managed to find your way onto the bed. Bora’s back was against her soft mattress, her arms still wrapped around your neck as you both looked at one another. No words had to be said - you two knew the main event was about to begin. Capturing her lips once more, you quickly go about removing her leather jacket and shorts, leaving Bora in just her crop top and laced purple panties. Unable to breath, Bora eventually breaks the kiss first and presses her forehead against yours. As the two of you heave, your hand makes its way down and begins to spread her legs open before you feel your hand being trapped.

Bora gives you a mischievous smirk. “Now now, baby. Mommy isn’t a convenience store like Minji is. You won’t be able to fuck me that easily. You have to earn it.”

You traced her underwear with your fingers, earning yourself a soft moan from Bora. She was wet, her panties damp with her arousal. Quickly removing it from her wide hips, you were greeted with her moist, wanton flesh. Although you preferred slow, gentle lovemaking, you wanted to prove to her that you could be as rough as she wanted.

“Oh fuck, baby…” Bora said, accompanied by a long, drawn out sigh as you give her a wide lick from the bottom of her slit and go upwards. Despite her earlier claim, it seems the pleasure she seeks allows her to lean back and spread her legs for you. You gave her a knowing snicker, causing Bora to roll her eyes as you see them with drunkenness and need for you as you delve in between her soft thighs.

Her juices were sweet on your tongue. You moved to her dripping clit, using the tip of your tongue to give her several licks, each causing her body to squirm and become a writhing, pleasure-filled mess. You blow hot air in front of her moist cavern, causing goosebumps to form on Bora’s lower body. Satisfied that you have teased her enough, you captured her clit with your lips, using the tip of your tongue to swirl around it with soft circles.

Bora’s earlier demeanor is long gone. Replacing it is need, pleasure, and the desire for an outlet to the copious amount of lust fueling her body.

Her hot, wet flesh is wonderful. You savor the feeling of it on your tongue as you watched Kim Bora give in to the pleasure. You strengthened the pressure on her clit, bringing your right hand to her opening. You teased her splayed, drenched lips, pushing them apart slightly before using two fingers and entering her body.

A long, erotic moan escapes her lips - one that you were sure the entire floor heard. Her hands pushed on the back of your scalp, her hips and thighs quivering with pleasure. You were working magic between Bora’s thighs, as evident by the suffocating feeling her walls are providing on your fingertips.

“Baby… put your fingers deeper inside mommy.” Bora moaned, as failed to keep any resemblance of composure.

You smiled, sliding your fingers deeper inside her body. You curled them, your palm facing upwards. Bora lets out a heavy breath the moment you find a certain piece of flesh inside her pussy. Her fingers dig into the back of your scalp in response.

“Fuck, baby… fuck!”

Upping the pace on her clit, you leave Bora wanting more. Your fingers swirled circles inside her, rubbing and pressing against the specific part inside her pussy.

“Oh my god… baby!”

Bora screams at an octave you’ve never heard from anyone. Her body jerks uncontrollably as the orgasm courses throughout her body. Her thighs instinctively wrapped tightly around your head and covered you with its warm softness. Her juices flowed from her beautiful slit and onto your palm, drenching it in a familiar wetness. You were no stranger to strong female orgasms the past few days, but Bora’s may be the strongest one so far.

Your fingers were still inside the tightness of her body, teasing her before you slowly withdrew them from her body. Her walls had other plans - seemingly not wanting to let you go. Bora’s thighs were flushed with satisfaction. You bring your right hand to your mouth, savoring the taste of them being drenched with her juices.

Bora was an absolute mess, lying in front of you with her legs spread open. Her large chest heaves as she struggles to regain her composure. You smiled at the sight, satisfied with your work on her. You bent down and gave her a kiss, her tongue entering yours as she tastes herself in your mouth.

“Baby…” Bora moaned. “Baby, mommy wants you to fuck her now.”

Bora quickly wraps her legs around your thighs and flips you onto the bed, both of you now switching positions. The lust-filled smile etched on her face caused the baby hairs on the back of your neck to rise as she takes your hard shaft in her hand, stroking you several times before impaling herself on your cock.

Feeling how tight her walls hugged your fingers, the same sensation being on your cock this time was an indescribable feeling. Her hips meet yours, causing Bora to gasp loudly at the feeling of being filled. She arches her body and in an instant, taking you in and out of her wanton body. Your hard cock slides at a pace with zero regard for you or your comfort.

Bora braces herself on your chest with her hands, creating the wonderful side effect of her breasts being pressed together, giving you a delicious looking sight of the very same cleavage that made you salivate when she wore her white dress earlier. Bora’s breasts bounced up and down as she rode you. Her previously satisfied face was now replaced with a determined, almost angry look. She seemed to be working out the frustration and anger that had built up in the workplace, using your cock as an outlet with each thrust of her hips.

She bites her lip in a seductive manner, doubling as a way to prevent herself from releasing a gasp or moan. Bora wanted to show you how hard she wanted to be fucked, how hard she wanted the pleasure your cock was giving her.

“Fuck, mommy…” you gasped, your mind being overwhelmed with pleasure. Based on the pace she was riding you, it was clear that Bora cared little for how hard or fast she was going. Your comfort meant nothing to her, the only thing on Bora’s mind was her own pleasure.

“Mommy, you’re so good at riding.”

Bora slaps your cheek in response, the attack surprising you slightly, but making the sex even better.

“Shut up, baby.” Bora moaned. “You’re just mommy’s little fucktoy, understand?”

You gritted your teeth as Bora grinds hard on your crotch, swirling her hips around while you were fully inside her.

“Fuck!” you gasped. Moving your hands from her hips, you take both of her breasts into your hands. Fondling them, you take her nipples into your fingertips and squeeze them, savoring the feeling of them growing erect. Raising your palms, you deliver a harsh slap onto both of her breasts simultaneously.

“Holy shit… slap mommy’s tits again, baby!”

You raised your hands, slapping them again. And again. And again. You repeat the process several times, watching her milky skin begin to turn a light shade of red.

Bora’s body shook with pleasure, her breathing becoming more erratic as the sensations of stimulating her breasts and pussy were causing her to go insane. The moment the tip of your cock reaches a certain spot, Bora screamed loudly. Her body tenses up as she feels an overwhelming sense of pleasure flow from the top of her head to her toes which were buried under your thighs. Her body shaking once more, you feel your cock flooded by Bora’s juices. Her orgasm hit with such force, it almost pushed your cock out of her.

You bounced Bora’s hips on your cock slowly several more times to allow her to ride out her high. Her muscles loosen up and she looks at you with a fully satisfied smile. She leans down and captures your lips, continuing to be fucked tenderly. Your hands reached behind her, slowly traveling down until they rested firmly on the soft skin of her butt. You squeeze each cheek gently, her round bottom feeling wonderful against your thighs.

“Fuck!” Bora screamed as you slap her ass loudly. “Baby, your cock feels so good inside mommy.”

Bora leans down and presses her lips against yours, moaning inside your mouth as you give her ass another loud, erotically charged slap. The two of you are locked in a heated, passionate kiss.

“Baby… I want you to fuck me.” Bora said, her eyes half-lidded yet filled with emotion. “Please fuck mommy. Can you do that? Can you fuck mommy?”

You smiled, caressing her ass with both hands as your lips connected once more.

You move your hands back onto Bora’s hips, getting ready to bounce her body on your cock once more when she moves her hips forward, allowing your shaft to leave her body completely.

Your cock pops out of her body, covered in her slick juices. As you get ready to re-enter the drenched lips of her pussy, you feel her hand gripping your cock.

“Mommy doesn’t want to be fucked in her pussy, baby.”

Slightly confused, you watched Bora lower her lips slightly, letting your cock rest between her pillowy ass cheeks. You felt it brush against the tight ring of her butt.

“Fuck me here.” she said. “Minji never let you fuck her ass, right? That slut’s always complaining about ‘how much it hurts’. Amateur.”

“A-Are you sure?”

“To tell you the truth, I’ve never done this before. But she said to do it with someone you trust. And I trust you, baby.”

Bora leans her body down and reaches for something under her pillow. Taking it out, you see that she is holding a small vial in her hand. And while you knew what was going to happen, you were filled with a desire you never knew you had.

Bora takes the vial and squirts a generous amount onto the fingertips of her left hand. She spreads the lube around her rear entrance. You would have done so, but thought she was applying it onto your cock. Bora moaned as her fingers dipped into the tight ring of muscle. She does her best to spread it as far as she can. You have never had anal sex before, but made sure she is okay with this.

“We don’t have to do this, Bora. You can get on your hands and knees and I’ll just fuck you from behind.”

“N-No…” Bora said, her voice shaking with nervousness. “I… I want this.

Bora smiles softly, rubbing her thumb across your cheek. It is soon replaced with lust and need as she places her hands back onto your chest.

“Fuck mommy’s ass, baby.”

Figuring she prepared herself for this, Bora grabbed onto the base of your cock and pressed the head against her outer ring of muscle.

To say it was tight was an understatement - Bora’s vaginal juices mixed with the lube you placed around her ass helped your cockhead penetrate her. Despite the resistance, you are soon able to enter her ass.

“Fuck…” Bora gasped, a mixture of surprise and pain as she experiences a new sensation of you entering her body through a different hole. You do not move a muscle as the tip of your cock impales her. You placed one hand on her ass cheek and the other on her hip, trying your best to comfort her.

“Are you okay, mommy?”

“I… I’m fine.” Bora replied in a nervous tone. “It’s okay, I want this. Don’t stop, baby. Keep going… deeper.”

You raised your hips, inserting more and more of your cock into her backside entrance. The intense tightness of her ass around your cock provides a delightful feeling. While Bora’s pussy was tight, the tense ring of muscle you were currently inside made it seem like loose in comparison.

You managed to get your cock halfway inside her body, wanting Bora to adjust to the new feeling of having something inside her ass. Once you feel she is comfortable, you carefully withdraw your cock until only the tip remains before thrusting back in.

“Oh fuck, baby… you feel so big inside me. S-Slow down… oh!”

The moans and gasps that escape Kim Bora’s lips are at a higher frequency than when you two were having normal vaginal sex. The experience is still a bit uncomfortable for you both, but you are happy that Bora wanted to share this intimate experience with you. You were mindful of Bora’s feelings, not wanting to hurt her. As you only enter her body with half of your cock, Bora’s moans gradually begin to soften.

“Baby… y-you can go a bit faster, if you want.”

Bora’s words inspire you to increase the pace, the both of you enjoying the pleasure radiating inside your bodies as you held her hips and bounced her on your shaft.

Your shaft enters and exits Bora’s ass a little bit easier, the tight ring of muscle gripping onto your cock even more so than her pussy did. The combination of her juices and the lube allowed you to enter her sacred hole.

Bora rocked her hips forward, her clit rubbing against your torso. Her ass cheeks felt silky smooth in your hands as the two of you tried to make the experience comfortable for one another. Bora runs her fingers through her damp hair, pushing it back as her eyes are half-lidded in pleasure and is unable to contain the widest grin on her face.

“Mommy…” you said, your eyes closing as she begins to increase the speed at which her ass was riding your cock. “Fuck, you feel so tight.”

“Baby… your cock feels so big inside me. I want to feel it deeper… keep fucking me… keep that big cock inside mommy’s ass.”

Unlike her pussy that made it easier for you to enter her after she adjusted to you, you were lucky enough to feel her ass expand mere millimeters. The tightest part of Kim Bora provided a new feeling of pleasure the two of you never experienced before. Her hips bounced on your body, and soon enough, your entire cock is inside her from tip to base. Your balls slapped against the lower part of Bora’s pussy, making each bounce of her hips create a wet sound as they hit her wet flesh.

Bora’s nails dug into your skin as the two of you savored the feeling of fullness. A lust-filled growl escapes her lips as her ass squeezes your cock even tighter. The pleasure was beginning to overwhelm you, as you felt her asshole begin to pulse.

“Oh fuck…. Baby, you feel so good inside me. Don’t stop! Keep stretching mommy’s tight ass.”

Your cock leaves her body until just your cockhead remains before fully re-entering her once more. Bora’s soft pleas fo you to fuck her harder do not fall on deaf ears as the intense tightness of her body wraps around your shaft.

Bora’s ass slaps against your thighs with each bounce of her body. Her skin is glistening with sweat, her damp hair clinging onto it. She tries her best to arch her back as the feeling of her tight ass wrapped around your cock and the sounds of her moans to keep fucking her has become too overwhelming.

“Mommy…” you said. “Mommy, I’m going to cum.”

“Cum for me.” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Cum inside mommy…”

Holding onto her hips, you pushed Bora’s body down on your cock as you let out a sharp exhalation of breath. You were buried deep inside her as your orgasm quickly arrives. Your hands gripped her waist tightly as your cock throbbed inside her and released wave after wave of hot, thick cum into her wanton body. At that moment, nothing else mattered. All you could focus on was emptying your balls inside Kim Bora’s asshole. The pleasure radiating from your crotch was so heavy, you thought you were about to black out.

Bora lets out a long, sultry moan as she feels your hot seemen flooding the inside of her body. And while you were sure she’s felt cum inside her pussy, this new experience was not something she could prepare for. Despite the discomfort and uneasiness of you both, Bora was satisfied at the warm feeling of pleasure that you claimed the most intimate part of her body.

It takes you awhile to come down from your high, but the two of you let out a satisfied moan. Nothing more needed to be said. You opened your eyes and are met with Bora’s, hers still filled with heavy lust - and also genuine satisfaction. Kim Bora loved you, and deep down you think you feel the same way. Her dark brown pools capture your very soul inside them.

Bora leans down and kisses you, seemingly confirming the newfound love you two have for each other despite the past.

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #dreamcatcher smut #dreamcatcher #sua #kim bora #male reader #reader insert

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

for the meet ugly asks, 18 with the ot4? nsfw, if possible? thanks

Here you go! It is indeed NSFW.

18: we were just introduced at a party by our mutual friend and when my partner comes to join us, you freak out because you were just outside making out with them and you pull me aside to tell me

“Duck! Over here!” Aubrey waves him through the crowd, pointing to the lumberjack lookalike next to her, “this is the guy I was telling you about. Barclay’s an old friend of Dani's and, get this, he and Indrid know each other too. Wait, where is mr. mothman?” Aubrey cranes her neck.

“He had to work a late shift, but he says hi. Literally” He fumbles his phone, “fuck, sorry, first thing to go when I’ve been drinkin is my coordination.” He eventually triumphs, showing them the photo of Indrid, silver hair tied back and Void the Rat perched on the sleeve of his ‘Waffle House’ shirt. The sticker on the photo says “Hi!”

“Aww” Barclay’s voice is the epitome of gentle giant, “he always wanted a rat. I’m glad he got one.”

“Whelp, now that I got you two talking, I’m gonna go spend some ‘quality time’ with my girlfriend.”

“Just don't get caught makin’ out in a closet again.” Duck calls. Aubrey flips him off with a smile.

“So how did you and Indrid--oh, there you are babe. Thought you mighta snuck out to take a work call.”

“No, just had to de-escalate a shoving match on the back porch. I know you love Jake, but maybe next time we should just have him over rather than coming to the kind of party we outgrew in undergrad. I’m discovering I don’t enjoy being under the influence in this kind of cramped party anymore."

“Yeah, not really loving the noise. I lose my voice enough in the kitchen. Duck, this is my boyfriend, Joseph. Joseph, this is Duck, he’s a friend of Dani and Aubrey’s.”

Duck crunches his cup as his mind takes a violent spin an hour into the past.

He’d been out on the side deck getting some air and sipping his beer when a guy who looks like he walked in from the set of some splashy T.V show where everyone is hot joined him. His lips looked damn good whenever he sipped his beer and Duck did his best to turn on the southern charm. It was sort of working, until he complimented the guys button up; it was covered in drawings of cryptids--including mothman, Indrid’s favorite--and fit him in the way that made Duck want to rip the buttons off with his teeth. As soon as he demonstrated his enjoyment of listening to a hot guy talk about monsters, the taller man moved gradually closer, bumping shoulders and locking eyes with growing boldness. When Duck said the song booming out of the house was his go-to for putting the moves on someone, the other man asked to see his technique.

They spent the next three songs in the darkest corner of the porch, Duck’s back pressing into metal slats as his new friend wove his fingers into his hair and teased their tongues together with an experts touch.

When Duck breathlessly asked if he wanted to go somewhere more private, he murmured, “Only after we’ve had a chance to talk about some things.”

Then his phone buzzed and he was gone, leaving Duck horny and tipsy under the stars.

Back in the present, he does everything possible to keep from meeting Joseph’s eyes as he mumbles, “I, uh, I, I need some help with somethin in the kitchen? Fuck, yeah, kitchen, Barclay can you come help?”

“Sure. Be right back, babe.”

The kitchen is packed with people doing ill-advised things with drinks, so Duck keeps Barclay in the hall as he whispers, “Man, I, I’m so fuckin sorry but I gotta say somethin’. Joe and I, we, uh, we already met.”

“Makes sense, he’s been in town a year. I just got here.”

“That ain’t the kind of meetin I mean. We got a little, uh, friendly on the porch tonight.”

Barclay gives an “ah” of understanding. Then he chuckles, “thought he looked a little ruffled when he passed me earlier.”

“I’m real fuckin sorry, I didn’t know. ‘Drid and I got an, an agreement, but I shoulda checked to see if he was datin someone.”

“That would have been smart.” Joe appears at Barclay’s shoulder, “but that’s why I said we needed to talk before we did anything else.” He strokes Barclay’s beard, “you and Indrid aren’t the only ones with an open relationship of sorts.”

“Ohthankfuck.” Duck slumps against the wall.

“While I was making sure no one made a punch that could give them alcohol poisoning, you were getting hot and heavy? That’s not fair, babe.” Barclay teases.

“I’ll make it up to you, big guy. Are you safe to drive?”

“Gonna give it another half-hour, just to be safe. You need a ride home, Duck?”

“Uh, sure, that’d be great.”

Soon, he’s bundled in the back of a Subaru, Joe sitting beside him while Barclay navigates through Saturday night traffic. They luck out; the game ran long, so they’re not fighting the throng coming out of the football stadium. When they reach his apartment, Joe stops him and hands Duck his phone. Duck didn’t even feel him take it in the first place. As he waves goodnight, he spots a new number sitting in his contacts and smiles.

----------------------------------------------------------

“...the point is, it amuses me that Joseph shares my taste in me.” Indrid sips his white chocolate mocha, then yawns wide enough for Barclay to spot his tongue piercing, “apologies, I didn’t get to bed until three.”

“Jesus, man, gonna tell Duck to start knocking you out.”

“I was working on commissions.”

Barclay gives him a disbelieving look.

“....I was working on commissions until midnight. Then I spent three hours watching videos on the finer points of home entomology.”

“There it is. You can’t fool me, I remember what you were like at sleepovers.”

“It was very important to read every single Eyewitness book your parents generously bought you.” Indrid takes another sip with an imperious tilt of his head.

Barclay bumps his unoccupied hand, “It’s so fucking nice to see you again.”

Indrid looks at him over his glasses, brown eyes as beautiful as they were when he was sixteen, “Likewise. Oh!” He perks up, “do you know what this means? We can have a double-date! I’ve always wanted to try that.”

“Sure Joseph will be into it; he has a spreadsheet of optimal date locations. Bet he’ll have fun making one for double-dates.”

“That is...exceptionally geeky.”

Barclay sends a love-struck smile into his coffee cup, “Yeah, he is.”

-----------------------------------------------

Joe is more diabolical than Duck gave him credit for. And he thought he was pretty fucking cunning after he suggest seeing the local hockey team; the chilly arena gave Indrid and excuse to cuddle up to anyone who held still for too long and gave Joe plenty of opportunities to make double entendres about sticks in Duck’s ear.

But a night out at “Woofs” AKA the kind of gay bar where Duck and Barclay get hit on constantly is a whole new level of torment. Especially because Indrid hangs off Duck proudly (when he’s not teasing Barclay for the number of free drinks he’s getting) and Joseph even asks him to dance. When he peeks over the taller man’s shoulder, he sees Barclay resting his hand on Indrid’s arm while whispering something that makes him grin.

Dancing really is the most fitting thing he could be doing, because it’s what all four of them have chosen to do about this; dance around the fact that Indrid and Barclay dated, dance around the fact Joe and Duck kissed, danced around the fact that they’re more or less acting like a polycule already.

“Oh no.” Joe mutters, eyes on the door, “things are about to get loud.”

Duck’s about to point out that the club is already loud when he’s pulled out of the path of not one, but two bachelorette parties. They opt to stay, although Barclay gets hit on by someone who doesn’t believe he’s gay. Joe takes him onto the floor for a slow dance while Duck steps into the bathroom. When he comes out, his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“You guys seen ‘Drid?”

Joe shakes his head, all three of them already moving for the door. They find Indrid across the street on a bench, hunched over and tapping on his knees.

“‘Drid?” Duck sits gently beside him, “you get overwhelmed?”

Indrid nods.

“You wanna head home?”

Another nod. Duck suspects the overstimulation spiked without warning, which usually means…

“You need to be nonverbal for a bit?”

This time Indrid looks at him when he nods, then cringes when he sees Joe and Barclay are watching.

“Our place is closer.” Joe offers, copying Duck’s tone, “we can all bus back there so you can be somewhere quiet. Or, um, if you need it to just be you two, that’s fine too.”

Indrid holds up a finger, indicating option one. Duck helps him up and let’s him stay hidden against his shoulder while they wait for the bus.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

This used to terrify Barclay. He and Indrid would be hanging out, would be stealthily holding hands in the top row of the football stadium, and his boyfriend would shut down. Barclay, sensing distress, would try to figure out what was wrong, would start to panic when Indrid couldn’t communicate the things happening in his mind and body. They had more than one fight where his attempts to help only made Indrid more overstimulated to the point he snapped at him to fuck off (and, on one occasion, hissed at him).

They worked it out eventually, Barclay keeping a mental list of things that soothed his friend. Watching Duck do some of them, how calm and loving he was, makes something complex bloom in his chest, as vibrant and beautiful as the Dahlias Duck brought them from the garden (“weather’s been so fuckin weird things are bloomin when they shouldn’t”).

When they make it home, Duck stops in the living room and looks between Indrid and Barclay for a moment. Then he murmurs, “‘Drid, you want Barclay to keep you company for a bit?”

Indrid smiles and nods, takes Barclay’s hand and follows him to the bedroom. He lets his memories drive, keeps the light off, arranges his body so Indrid can relax against him, and pets his hair with slow, light motions. His friend hums, meaning he’s on the right track. As he strokes his head he notices the black roots peeking through the silver; it was jarring to see Indrid with pale hair when all his memories were of dark locks of it falling over his face or catching on Barclays hands.

He looks good with the silver. More like himself.

Metal pokes his chest. He takes the glasses Indrid hands him, sets them on Joseph’s stack of library books, then gives a startled, “nnfph” as his friend pulls Barclay on top of him.

“Like the weight” Indrid mumbles, wrapping his arms around him. The longer they lay there, the easier it is to overhear the conversation in the other room.

“I feel awful, if I’d known I’d have never recommended we go somewhere like a loud bar.”

“S’okay, Joe. ‘Drid is still a little wary of tellin people that’s something he has to consider when goin’ out; Dani and them get it, but other folks think he’s bein’ a buzzkill.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“You’re tellin me. Besides, sometimes it comes up so fast, or happens in places he ain’t anticipatin it. He’ll be okay, especially with Barclay takin’ care of him.”

A pause, then, “Do you need someone to, um, take care of you?”

“Joe-”

“It’s alright if the answer is no. But part of my plan was to get everyone in a, um, bit of a frisky mood.”

A snicker, “Frisky?”

“I was trying not to be too crude.”

“Joe, you know how I feel about you. But we gotta check with the others to be sure everythin is on the level.”

“Tell them to come in.” Indrid whispers, a smile plain in his voice.

“Uh, babe? Could you and Duck come in here a sec?”

“Everythin oka--ffft” Duck snorts a laugh, “guess he improvised not havin a weighted blanket.”

“That I did.”

Duck bursts into a grin, hurrying to settle on the bed near Indrid’s head, “Hey, sugar. How you feelin’?”

“Much better. It helps that this one is very soothing.” He toys with Barclay’s hair, sending goosebumps up his arms, “though it seems he had a slighty different reaction to our contact.”

Barclay was so distracted by the conversation that he hadn’t realized his cock was hardening along the familiar warmth of Indrid’s thigh whenever one of them shifted.

“Fuck, Indrid, I’m sorry-”

“It’s alright. In fact, it is rather relevant to what you two were discussing in the hall. Am I correct that we all wish to be in some form of polyamorous relationship with each other?”

“Yes” say two voices along with his own.

“Wonderful. I suggest we hash out details later. Right now, it seems you two have, ah, unfinished business.”

“Fuckin finallyAH” Duck cackles as Joseph knocks him backwards, kissing him frantically while yanking up his shirt. As soon as his belly is exposed Joseph begins pawing and groping from there up his sides. Indrid nudges Barclay so they can sit up, allowing the other two more room to disrobe. Or, more accurately, for Joseph to disrobe both himself and Duck, since the shorter man is having trouble moving his limbs between bursts of laughter and moaning.

Joseph crawls backwards, shoving Duck’s legs apart and groping his thighs, “I’ve wanted to get my hands on these since the party. Lord almighty did you look good in those jeans.” He kisses his way up the left thigh, moaning and mouthing at the skin. His posture puts his perfect ass in the air, which happens to be one of Barclay’s favorite views in the whole world. He unzips his pants, fights to get his cock out as Indrid begins offering commentary from beside him.

“Mmmm, were I not still rather exhausted, I’d make him do that to us both.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t move his mouth from where it’s teasing Duck’s inner thigh.

“Know you would.” He reaches down to play with Joseph’s hair, “‘Drid’s got a whole fantasy where you blow him while I sit on his face.”

“Funny” Barclay’s voice is turning rough with desire,“he’s got one where he takes all three of us at once.”

Joseph’s face lacks any trace of self-consciousness, a rare thing for him, which means this whole arrangement is fucking brilliant. He simply nods, then takes Duck’s dick into his mouth.

“JEsus, fuck, Joe, ohfuckyeah.” Duck holds Joseph’s head encouragingly, “shoulda known you’d be good at this, you’re so fuckin good at everythin, fuck, fuck.”

Barclay grips his cock, trying to stroke in time with movements of Joseph’s head. Slender fingers carefully push his aside as Indrid purrs, “allow me.”

“You, you don’t have to, you said you were tired-”

“Not too tired for this” he strokes up more firmly, then brushes their lips together, “or this.”

It’s like tasting Hershey Chocolate or Marionberry Pie, transporting him back to their shitty hometown in Eastern Oregon, to summer heat on his skin and basement air in his nose as Indrid proved that yes, kissing boys was what he wanted to do.

Indrid’s certainly gotten better at it since then. Barclay likes to think he has, hopes the other man is feeling even half the things currently piling up in Barclay’s chest.

“Oh.” Indrid sighs as he pulls back, “that’s even better than I remember.”

A particularly loud moan from Joseph, underscored by Duck cursing happily, brings them back to the present.

Barclay moans as Indrid’s hand moves more deliberately.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Uh huh, c-couch, in that, fuck, that basement rec room at my house.”

“You came so fast.”

“Can’t really blame me.”

“Given the sounds he’s making, he might do the same thing now.” Joseph smiles at them from over Duck’s knee, “that’s one of the best things about you. You’re so sensitive, big guy.”

Barclay whines his name. His boyfriend winks, then dives back down to render Duck speechless.

“You really are” Indrid nips his ear, “remember when we, ah, lost it to each other?”

“Mmmhmm” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as if that might make all this last longer. Joseph echoes the noise, making Duck groan.

“Just picture it, Joseph” Indrid is getting into it now, panting and pink-cheeked, “Barclay, eighteen and even shyer than he is now, in my lap, begging me to fuck him.”

‘I, I wasn’t the only one begging.” He grins.

“Of course not. I was desperate to get to it because just seeing you naked had me certain I was going to--one moment” he releases Barclay’s cock, ignoring his whimper to clamber into a position that allows him to kiss Duck as the shorter man grinds into Joseph’s mouth. He doesn’t pull back until Duck’s hips slow and Joseph is busy wiping his lips.

“I can never resist kissing you while you cum.”

“Fuck I love you.” Duck cups Indrid’s cheek. The silver haired man rubs against his palm a moment, then retreats. Duck growls at Joseph, “as for you, you got ten seconds to open your legs so I can show you a good time.”

“So thoughtful” Indrid pecks his cheek, returns to Barclay, “now, where was I…”

“Shy, AHshit, fuckingchristthat’s good.” Joseph’s legs sprawl open as Duck finger-fucks him, sitting on his side to kiss him without obstructing Barclay’s view.

“Ah yes.” He kisses Barclays neck, hand teasing the head of his cock, “you insisted on bottoming because you were so scared you might hurt me. I can still see it, you on your hands and knees, asking me to take you--those were your exact words--then whimpering when I finally got my cock in.”

“Fuck” Joseph is clearly enjoying the story; if Barclay had known he was into this, he would have made all his exes record voicemails describing their exploits.

“If memory serves I came very fast, because you were so much tighter than I expected and you, you felt so good. I used my hands to get you off-”

“Uh huh, fuck, you hadn’t pulled out yet and it was so fucking good, fuck, Indrid-”

“You made such cute noises when you came” a slow, deep kiss as heat floods him, “I wonder if you’ll do the same now.”

“Probably” is all he grunts out before he’s cumming hard enough that most of it hits Joseph’s stomach rather than Indrid’s fingers. His head lolls as his cock pulses, and beneath his own heartbeat he picks up Duck ordering Joseph to be good and cum for him. After a moment, there’s the distinct moan his boyfriend makes during his climax. It’s followed, confusingly, by weak laughter. His eyes flutter open to see Indrid licking his cum off Joseph’s chest, which happens to be ticklish.

He scoots over to join them, Joseph kissing him sleepily the instant he’s close enough.

“You sure you don’t need to cum, sugar?”

“I’m only half-hard, and I know I’m too tired to make it the rest of the way. Not that this wasn’t supremely satisfying. But you each owe me an orgasm sometime in the future.”

“All in favor of blowin ‘Drids mind tomorrow mornin’”

He and the other two raise their hands in sync. Then the four of them collapse, laughing, in each others arms.

#meet ugly #OT4: Government Men and Their Cryptid Boyfriends #indruck #sternclay #inclay #autistic Indrid #trans duck newton #trans agent stern #reader request #duck newton/agent stern

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jpegjade · 4 years

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Physical Therapy - Ch. 1 (Spencer)

WELCOME TO PHYSICAL THERAPY!! in honor of this bish starting physical therapy in real life (and missing it bc i can’t drive and my mom and i’s schedules not being synched on google calendar all the time) i’ve decided to write a fic about it. it will be a little series with a goal (yes, an end game) and it’ll be cute. some of it is based on actual things that happen and some is literally just the story. ENJOY.

gender: neutral

tw: nothing that i can think of

genre: fluff | angst

Description: After getting shot in the leg, spencer goes through physical therapy before he can get back in the field completely. What happens when he starts to fall for his physical therapy assistant?

__________________

Two honks at 6am meant that it was time for Spencer to get going. Derek was downstairs, in the car, waiting on boy wonder to crutch his way out of the apartment complex. Derek wasn’t sure how to feel about this trip considering he missed his early morning run for this but he knew how nervous Spencer was for his evaluation today so he didn’t mind as much as he could have minded.

Spencer was patiently waiting in a pair of very short shorts, mismatched socks, and running shoes. He threw on a t-shirt and looked in the mirror, noting how tired he looked. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately for some reason but he couldn’t be sure why. He combed out his hair one more time before he and his crutches headed to the elevators.

“Ready, kid?” Derek said, opening the front door for Spencer like a world class chauffeur would if Spencer was a celebrity.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Spencer mumbled.

In truth, Spencer was more than ready to get started on his physical therapy journey. He wanted to get back in the field full time, adrenaline pumping, connecting with victims, walking again. He didn’t mind the assisted mobility but it was hard for him to know that the best he could do sometimes was stay back in the office or hang out in Garcia’s batcave.

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence between the two men. Derek was thinking about how he could make up his missed morning run by doing another type of high cardio workout while Spencer was just trying to figure out why it had to be him. He wouldn’t wish the frustration of his recovery process on anyone else on the team but the frustration of the recovery process just got to him on some days. Today was one of those days.

Derek pulled up to the physical therapy clinic sooner than Spencer hoped. Part of that was because Derek was a very fast driver while the other part was because Spencer wasn’t paying attention for most of the drive.

“You owe me one.” Derek said, completely joking. Well… Partially. That morning run was what kept him awake during the day, energizing him for work.

“Do you want to come in?” Spencer said, looking down at his hands in his lap.

Spencer’s hands were tapping his leg as he awaited Derek’s answer. He was nothing short of a nervous wreck on the inside. All he could think about was how much pain he would be in once the evaluation was over and the physical therapist had finished poking and prodding at his knee. He hated to think that it would be worse than everything else going on. Plus he still had to go to work today.

“Sure, kid.” Derek said.

Derek wasn’t going to sit in the car and do nothing the whole time so he might as well support his friend.

Climbing out of the car, the boys slowly made it to the sliding glass doors of the physical therapy clinic. Much to Spencer’s surprise, it was nothing like he originally imagined it to be. Some part of him thought it would somewhat resemble the clinic where his mother resided but it was completely different. There were floor to ceiling walls for over half of the first floor building. High tech equipment was stationed everywhere from anti gravity treadmills to hand bike motors, medicine balls and so much more. Spencer stood in the doorway, leaning on his crutches, while he took everything in. There was so much light in the air, it was almost like the feeling of recovery was airy and not meant to bog him down. This was a strange feeling for him to comprehend...

“You coming, pretty boy?” Derek called, taking a break from chatting with the pretty receptionist.

Spencer and his crutches walked over to the front desk and grabbed the paperwork that covered how much pain he was in today. He filled it out quickly, hoping to get everything over with sooner than later. He was already here so he might as well just finish everything quickly so he could get out of the place.

When he finished writing everything down, he returned the paperwork to the receptionist who slipped him a piece of paper and pointed to Derek. Spencer already knew it was the receptionist’s personal phone number and he didn’t even need to look at the paper. Sitting down, Spencer handed Derek to a very confused Derek before it hit him what it was. Derek winked at the receptionist, who blushed before answering the phone.

“Spencer?” A voice called his name shortly after he sat down.

It was nice to know that here, he didn’t have to be a doctor. He was just another person healing. He didn’t have to be smart, he could just exist.

“Good luck.” Derek said, noticing that Spencer’s hand was shaking in the slightest bit.

“My name is Nora and I will be your lead physical therapist.” The woman said, walking Spencer to a vacant padded table. It reminded Spencer of the types of tables you lay on when you get a massage.

He only got a massage once when Garcia got stood up on a couples’ massage date. He spent half of his part of the massage giving the masseuse facts about how their job could actually give them an infection from the amount of germs in the air and on the table. His delivery of facts caused the room to be incredibly uncomfortable and bleach the table very thoroughly. By the time he and the masseuse finished, only 5 minutes were left in the massage and Garcia was left horrified and amused at the same time.

“Don’t worry. We bleach the tables every time someone finishes a session.” Nora said, noticing the look on Spencer’s face. Spencer visibly relaxed and sat on the table.

“So, Spencer, tell me a little bit about yourself.” Nora followed up, pulling up a backless roller chair.

“Well, I was on a case and the unsub, unknown subject, shot at a dad but it ended up hitting me in the leg instead and…” Spencer paused, looking at Nora’s amused face.

“No, I mean tell me about you. Your hobbies, what you do for fun, things like that. I need to do a complete profile for you so I know how your quality of life has been affected and which exercises you can do at home so we aren’t pushing too fast.” Nora smiled at Spencer.

“I work.” Spencer said in a matter-of-fact tone. He didn’t really have anything else to say.

“Okay. So you’re a workaholic.” Nora wrote. She was about to ask a new question when you came quickly walking to Nora.

Spencer was left dumbfounded. There seemed to be a halo of light radiating around you, making you glow. He knew it was the sun finally rising but his brain short circuited as he continued to gaze at you.

“Hey Nora?” You said, looking down at your boss. “Mrs. Gillespi wants to know why you haven’t come back to check her form. She doesn’t trust me because, her words here, I ‘look like a child who doesn’t know their left foot from the color orange.’”

“Sure. Here, you can take over Spencer’s evaluation.” She handed you her clipboard.

You looked at the detailed notes on the paper and then up at Spencer, who looked like one of the youngest people here.

“It’s not often we get cute guys in this place. Other than Kyle. But Kyle’s an asshole who could almost be my dad.” You blurted, not realizing you said it outloud as soon as Nora left.

You noticed that he started blushing and looking at his converse and you realized that you said something. You usually spoke your thoughts out loud but the people you worked with were used to it so no one bothered to say anything.

“What?” You asked, confused.

“You called me cute.” Spencer said. “Which is fine. I don’t understand the appeal but I do believe that your blurting of what you perceive as a fact is a coping mechanism. It can also be tied to ADHD, which is a common mental disorder that causes your brain to impulsively say things.” Spencer paused, looking at your face.

“What?” You asked, again, confused.

“I’m not saying you have ADHD. I’m a doctor but not that kind of doctor. Although I could get another Ph. D. Prove my father wrong. And…” Spencer realized he was rambling.

“Cute and a talker.” You said, writing that down.

You wrote something down on the paper that Spencer couldn’t see but he was curious about.

“Let’s check out that leg.” You said, pulling out an instrument that looked like a compass.

You asked Spencer to move his knee certain ways and it wasn’t as bad as Spencer thought. You were gentle, soft even. Your hands were delicate and you ended the session massaging his leg and smiling at him.

“You were a good patient today, doctor Spencer.” You said, smiling at him.

Spencer blushed, unable to meet your eyes.

“You… I mean… I enjoyed our session.” Spencer said. “Which I don’t normally enjoy. Not that I’ve been shot before. Or had physical therapy. Or been here. Or even worked out really.”

“You’re funny, doc.” You smiled. “Your next appointment is Tuesday of next week according to the schedule so I guess I’ll see you then. I can’t wait.”

Spencer stared at you as he wondered why you were so excited.

“Why?” Spencer asked.

“It’s not every day I get the case for a cute guy who is smart and awkward. It’s almost like the heavens have answered my hopes and prayers.” You joked, looking up at the ceiling and putting your hand on your heart.

“I believe in science.” Spencer stated, grabbing his crutches.

“A man of science. Does it get any better? What’s your star sign?” You joked.

“Scorpio.” Spencer stated.

“Oop. All the scorpios I know have been some hoes. You better not be a hoe, doc.”

“I’m definitely not a gardening tool, if that’s what you’re referring to. Otherwise, I’d like to thing my lack of dating skills doesn’t qualify as being a… hoe? Although, I don’t believe in the use of the word to describe someone who enjoys spending time with multiple people. I’d like to think the use of the word is meant in jest and fun for a term of endearment.” Spencer stood up, balancing on his crutches.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You said, walking slowly with Spencer to the front desk.

“What’s your name?” Spencer asked, turning to you. He realized that he never got your name.

“Y/n.” You smiled.

The clouds must have parted again because as soon as you turned to walk away from him, towards Nora, you were covered in another halo. And just like that, you were gone again.

_____________________

Future tag list:

@ellvswriting @sageandberries-png @l0ve-0f-my-life @rexorangecouny @kennedywxlsh

Want to be added? Tell me!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #cm

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appleb18 · 4 years

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Cartoons Relationships Are Terrible

Back in the day of cartoons, the romantic subplots were simple and yet very heartwarming to see such as

Katara and Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender

Phineas and Isabella from Phineas and Ferb

But now, modern cartoons are taking romantic subplots into heavier territories that something that some live-action shows would do. While it does sound interesting that making relationships more realistic and complex but the way that has been written in the previous decade is pretty bad. The writers try to make romance relatable to the audience but fail on doing so such as making likable characters to really cringy and awful people, shoving down our throats of how cute it is and having the romantic subplot more focus than the actual plot.

Adventure Time and Regular Show

So you must be wondering why I put Adventure Time and Regular Show together instead of separate categories. The thing about these two shows is they used to have bad romantic subplots but as the show progresses, they really did it well and I have to say it did better than most cartoons that failed to do which I’ll talk about later.

For Adventure Time, Finn and Flame Princess broke up in “Frost and Fire” due to him deceiving her by having FP fight Ice King/Simon Petrikov for his amusement

After their break, he tries to rekindle his romantic feelings for Princess Bubblegum and thinks age is just a number in “Too Old”. However, it doesn’t end up too well that she has people to watch over and that’s when he realized that he really did donk up with Flame Princess.

Although he apologized to FP in “Earth and Fire” to her it didn’t fully restore their relationship and Finn still had romantic feelings for her and Princess Bubblegum.

Thankfully, Finn matures in later seasons.

Finn realized it’s better for him to be friends with Princess Bubblegum

He then fully apologized and realized what he has done wrong to Flame Princess and she tells him that he really matured and hang out by playing guess who and rapping in “Bun Bun”

and Princess Bubblegum, and Marceline. They both finally reconcile at the end of “Varmints” and start to hang out more which develops their relationship from being platonic to romance.

For Regular Show, in “Steak Me Amadeus' ' Mordecai asked Margaret to be his girlfriend and although she would like that, she can’t because she got accepted into college which broke his heart.

It didn’t last when he’s been reunited with CJ in “New Years Kiss”.

As the show progresses, the two become a couple but then things get complicated when Margret returns. It made things awkward between CJ, Mordecai, and Marget like CJ always gets jealous and runs away when she sees Mordecai and Margret together.

By the end of season 6, he dumps CJ in front of everyone in Muscle Man's wedding.

Like Adventure Time, Mordecai and Margret hangout and realized they should stay as friends in “Just Friends”

While Eileen and Rigby become a couple.

Now it’s time to talk about other cartoons shows and their romantic subplot problem

Steven Universe

Steven Universe relationships can sometimes be well written but most of the time can handle poorly.

Such as Lars and Sadie were starting to develop their relationship in “Joking Victim” however it repeats itself throughout three seasons until the end of season 4 where Lars develops. Then there’s Sadie trapping him and Steven on the island in “Island Adventure” so he won’t have to leave and they don’t resolve and don’t even mention it ever again in later seasons. All they show was Sadie scar and that’s it

In “Steven Universe: Future”, Sadie and Lars didn’t get together and she’s now with Shep and they did it off-screen. So throughout the whole thing with Lars and Sadie, they don’t get together. The show kept teasing it and they might get together in the future but the writers just said screw it, let's have her date a nonbinary while Lars goes on a space adventure. It feels like a waste of seeing those two characters that the show keeps showing them together and not have them become a couple. Unlike SvTFoE, Shep just came out of nowhere with no proper introduction and doesn’t establish they and Sadie's relationship and it’s really bothersome!

Connie and Steven's relationship was good for the first four seasons. It was really had good chemistry and she was a good partner for him

then season 5 came in and it kinda got ruins by after Steven escape from Gem Homeworld and coming back to Earth, it starts off with Connie leaving Steven with lion and never to be seen for a month according to “Keven Party”. The Steven and Connie arc was really bad like why was it dragged for five episodes? The whole thing could’ve been resolved in one episode by having them talk about their feelings like how “Mindful Education” and “Full Disclosure” did by they talk about their emotions instead of running away.

Then in “Gemcation”, Steven the most important thing to him is Connie's relationship than worrying about Lars and the Off Colours' safety. That has to be the dumbest thing I’ve heard in my life and I can’t believe Rebecca and the Crewniverse have written it like that.

Then there’s Ruby and Sapphire. I’ll be honest, the relationship feels like old Disney love stories like Cinderella, Seven Dwarfs, and Sleeping Beauty and that’s not a compliment. In “The Answer”, after they accidentally fused, they escape and wander Earth that caused them to fall in love which kinda contradicts what Garnet said to Jamie about love, at first sight, isn’t good in “Love Letter”.

In “Pink Diamond” Arc, the plot came to hold to make room for Ruby and Sapphire’s wedding.

While it is revolutionary that they show an LGBT wedding live on television but as a narrative standpoint, it feels rushed. The reason for that is after that Blue and Yellow came in after the wedding. They were no build-up or anything, they just came.The reason why they did it so some countries can’t take it down due it the main story which is stupid. It’s nice they represent LGBT but why in the middle of a major story arc, that’s just sloppy.

Voltron

So Voltron has a reputation of queerbaiting the audience that Shiro is gay and he has a boyfriend. The writers keep telling us on Twitter that they’ll show his boyfriend in season 7 but when it finally aired. It was terrible

The first time we saw Adam was a flashback but it was nothing, it was more friendship than romance.

When he finally shows up in the present he dies. Shiro goes to the memorial and signs than that’s it.

The writers really made a dumb move of hyping it up but they let us down by having him die. They try to make it up by having Shiro marrying some guy who has a very little screen in the final season. Similar to Regular Show with Mordecai marrying a batgirl but not dumb while Voltron trying to get brownie points for having LGBT rep.

Lance and Allura were really forced. For six seasons, Allura was never interested in Lance and only saw him as a friend but in season 8, the two confessed their love for each even though there wasn’t any chemistry nor sign that they truly love each other and they insensitively become a couple for one date. I would’ve supported if their relationship was established back in season 2

The Legend of Korra

The love triangle between was handled so poorly with bad timing, making characters look terrible, making things force and having it engage more than the plot.

For the first season, there was a love diamond. Bolin liked Korra, Korra likes Mako and Mako liked Asami and those two go out. Korra and Mako kissed which broke Bolin’s heart but he got over it but when Asami finds out when Korra was missing, she gets jealous. I understand that she was concerned about her relationship with Mako but during when Korra, the avatar that is missing while Equalis are on the move? That’s not the right moment to get jealous when Republic City is gonna be under attack but of course, Mako and Asami break and Korra gets in with Mako.

In season 2, things get worse when the happy couple keep nagging and they break up

Which he tries again with Asami

After Korra got her memories back but forgot breaking up with Mako, she asked him if it was bad however though he lied and everyone judged him for that dick move, especially Asami who started to have feelings for him again. Thankfully they broke up because that was just an awful way to get someone back by having their mind erased.

Also, Bolin was with Eska and it was abusive. Forcing him to be her man, changed his whole entire to match with hers and she forced him to marry her.

What’s worst about it is no one is concerned about him being with her and instead they just laugh like it’s supposed to be funny. Being in an abusive relationship isn’t funny and I hate how the show treats it so. By the end, they just forgot the whole thing that ever happened and moved on with their lives.

Season 3 and 4 kept the romance to a minimum with Bolin x Opal and Jinora x Kai but there was one romantic relationship that had to happen with no hints or build up and it’s Korra x Asami. By the end of the series, they decided to go to the spirit together while holding hands and having their eyes glazed toward each other and they become a couple.

While many of you may say that they hinted it since season 3, however, it looks like friendship. Blushing and writing to her isn’t enough to say they have feelings towards each other. That is what best friends do too. The creators even have to confirm that they are a couple and the comics showing their love while it’s nice and all but it would’ve been a lot better to show it either on streaming service or live television than buying volumes to see more of their pairing, it’s balderdash. Now it’s time to talk about a cartoon that has one of the worst romance I’ve ever seen in my entire life of watching shows.

Star vs The Forces of Evil

Star vs The Forces of Evil has one of the WORST romantic subplots I’ve ever watched, it is even worse than CW’s Arrowverse romance and that’s saying something. The romantic subplot makes Star and Marco look like terrible people that only care about each other more than other characters.

Jarco

Out of all ships in SvTFoE, Jarco has the most establishment than most others. Marco liked Jackie when he was little and it was bound to happen that those two will date. Ever since season 1, the relationship has been growing to platonic to a romantic couple in season 2.

Their chemistry together worked well but then “Sophomore Slump”. When Marco finally went back to Earth, he was obsessed with Mewni and Star and he won’t stop talking about and he still wears the cape. When Jackie told him to stop obsessing over Mewni which he tries to do but it got the better to him by he still wears the cape when he was on his date with Jackie. It’s really BS when Marco said to Jackie “You’re my best friend” which ruined everything that it established since season 1 and this, of course, caused them to break up.

Then he left Earth to go to Mewni the day after their break up. It’s a real shame that building up their relationship and giving Jacie character got shoved aside for Starco. Although she returns and meets up with him again I can’t help feeling that it just for fan service and being inclusive for Jackie being Bi

Tomstar

Before the show started, Star and Tom were a couple but broke up due to him getting angry very easily and he wanted her back for the past two seasons luckily he stopped trying in “Mr. Candles Cares”. Their relationship becomes healthier when Tom gives Star space and that causes them to get back together and not have feelings for Marco anymore.

Tom went through a lot of development for Star and it was a Mewni x Monster romance which is similar to Eclipsa and Globglor and it fits season 3. After rewatching it, it was pretty good. However, like Jarco, it was doomed from the start due to fans wanting Starco to be canon even though Tomstar was getting good. Also, Star was a terrible girlfriend to him.

Star never told him she kissed him, Marco did and when Tom confronted her about it, she got mad and tried to walk away.

She mistreats him by nagging somethings, blowing on his face and angrily ask translate

She declined on going on a vacation with him so she can be with Marco.

Even his mom was afraid that she might break his heart again and her response “Everybody breaks up. That’s what teenagers do! Teenagers are dumb”. He went through so much development, changed his character and gave her so much but she never returned the favor. What an awful girlfriend

Kellco

With Tom and Star getting together (for now) it left Marco feels devastated that she’s dating someone and can’t get rid of his feelings for her while Kelly doesn’t want to be with Tad which she broke up with him. They both have something in common and start to hangout and their relationship has developed throughout season 3 and he’s with her more than Star.

They became officially a couple as “breakup buddies” in “Kelly’s World” and it also when they did a perfect synchronization between two partners.

So they’re pretty much a good pair but everything changed when the episode “A Boy and His DC-700XE” and did an off-screen break up. I don’t care who or what you write but never, ever a major plot point or character development offscreen. Kelly finds happiness when she leaves Tad but they break up with no explanation. It was glossed over like for five seconds and Marco doesn’t even care about their break up, what an a*hole.

This relationship feels like a real waste of time and serves nothing to the plot nor character development, it was just there to waste time.

Starco

Before I talk about Starco, I used to ship it and I thought they were enjoyable characters. They would've worked in a relationship if things were written better and would have been the next Phineas and Isabella but sadly the writers messed up probably the easiest romance to write.

Season 1, Star and Marco became best friends. Although there weren't many romantic moments they still look pretty good together

Season 2, As Star was happy for Marco that she’s finally dating Jackie, the girl he has had a crush on since preschool,

on the other hand, she started to have feelings for him and she has trouble expressing it.

In season 3, Marco started to have feelings for Star which caused him and Jackie to break up. Star told him that he wants nothing to do with him romantically in “Lint Catcher” and Tad told him that he does have feelings for her in “Lava Lake Beach” and he wasn't happy to find out about it at all. Then in Booth Buddies, they were held hostage by some freak until they kiss and they were completely in denial about having feelings for each other

Then season 4 is when Starco becomes really sour. Star and Marco always keep saying that they don’t want to have feelings for each other and yet the writers have several episodes before the end of the series

. They never showed any romantic interest until “Mama Star” where he confessed his feelings to her and then they kissed in the second last episode. By the finale, instead of either of them going back to their dimensions they went back to the World of Magic and held each other. It would’ve been more meaningful if they got together before the end of the show.

It’s very odd that they risk their lives for a relationship that just started. However, for some miracle, both of their worlds collide and become one with no explanation of what so ever.

Starco could’ve been a lovely ship but the writers have to keep messing around with it till the very end.

Conclusion

Whenever a show presents a romance, I don’t mind as long it either fits with the narrative of the story it be fun but 2010s romantic subplots have been written very terribly by having it the main focus but sacrifice pacing and quality of the story, forcing characters to become a couple without establishing it enough in the show, and having characters go off for the sake of drama. Romantic stories can be simple and cute like Kim x Ron from Kim Possible, Suki x Sokka from Avatar: The Last Airbender and Starfire x Robin from Teen Titans and that’s all right. I do hope that this generation will fix what the previous decade of cartoons has failed to do.

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ohhoworiginalrfaheadcanons · 4 years

Note

Since we discussed it: RFA with American MC lol o/

Okay, lemme do this. I find 2nd person pretty cringy so I'll avoid using it if I can. Also, I'm not that knowledgeable about Korean culture, so I can't really go too in depth about possible culture clashes. It took me a while to try to think of everything I could for that.

RFA reactions to an MC who's American

~Yoosung~

That's definitely not what he expected at all! Admittedly, in retrospect some of Seven's comments were probably hinting at that. He's still taken aback when he first sees her though. He'd stopped thinking of her as Rika a while before seeing her, sure, but without any hints as to what she looked like other than that, he'd left it as 'vaguely Rika shaped'.

It's fine, because she thinks he's cute, but she's as tall as he is! He chooses not to acknowledge her being taller by half an inch, because he doesn't measure by those and therefore that makes it completely fair to ignore it when she points it out. They are the same height.

He's kind of out of his depth, even considering how out of his depth he would be anyway just having a girlfriend, but...his perfect world is LOLOL and everyone is equal in LOLOL! Therefore, even if his girlfriend is kind of weird, he's willing to make the effort to get through that! Plus, her accent (she can't even tell she has one) is cute. On the other hand, he's so bad at speaking English that he can only bring himself to mumble it. It's hard to believe she isn't teasing him about it when she calls it cute.

But he lives for compliments from his girlfriend, so she'd best believe he keeps on trying. They still mostly communicate in Korean, but he eventually gets a bit more confident about speaking in English to her. If only in private. At first he tries to use it to tell secret mushy things to her...but then like half of the RFA understood him when he tried it at one of the parties, so. uh. never again.

His taste in food is also atrocious, so honestly, he doesn't find her foreign tastes to be that weird. Together they even organize a raid on Seven's place to steal a box of HBC chips, and then they both pretend that Seven didn't just let them do it. (Why does she know how to say 'I want to be your cat' in Arabic? YOOSUNG HAS SO MANY QUESTIONS)

He's super interested in some of the imported stuff she brought with her when she moved, especially the video games. Most of them are already available in Korea, obviously, but a true gaming connoisseur like himself enjoys comparing the differences between releases! Plus, it's easier to play co-op games with her when she doesn't need to think about how to translate certain instructions or things like that.

Speaking of her things, one time he found a book by her bedside with an interesting looking cover. It seemed to be a sequel book and the writing was too complex for him to really follow along very well, though. He had a pretty good idea the handcuffs on the cover weren't because it was a detective novel judging by the reaction she had when she caught him reading it. He got too flustered to even try to read it after that.

They visit her family back home sometimes, and he's always super excited whenever they do. There's so much food! Why do they sell burgers this big?! Why is everything so big? He doesn't really travel much aside from those family trips, so it's a nice change of pace. Even if her brother-in-law is taller than him. damn it-

At one point, she suggests they cosplay Superman and Lois Lane, but it's so awkward for him to pick her up princess-style given their relative heights that he chickens out. She cosplays as Wonder Woman instead, and honestly he thinks her as an amazon tying him-tying bad guys up with a golden rope is hotter than her as a reporter anyway.

He doesn't really grasp that American isn't a 'race', and brags about her anyway, despite her laughing every time he does.

~Zen~

It's dumb, but his first thought on seeing she's foreign is a moment of panic that he won't fit her tastes after all (despite the fact that she's already seen his selfies).

That's complete nonsense, though, because his beauty shines through cultural barriers. Hers does, too, and while he was admittedly imagining something else, he's absolutely immediately enchanted with her anyway. She's cute and beautiful and different from anyone else around him, and honestly perfect. He hadn't actually noticed the accent before when they were on the phone, but it doesn't bother him now that it's a bit more obvious.

He can't speak English if his life depended on it, so he trusts whatever she mutters to herself when she rolls her eyes or looks way too amused about something is all flattering. It's definitely flattering, because obviously it is. She does suggest that he should learn it, though, just so he can potentially broaden his horizons and reach a broader audience. He doesn't need the confidence boost or anything, but it does feel good to see her swoon over his attempts.

When she said she could keep up with him drinking, he hadn't realized it was because she just happened to be much bigger than he expected, closer to his size. Actually, though, she can take her liquor like a champ, even more than he expected. She claims it's something about college, but won't tell any stories about it other than that 'it was a crazy time'. It's fair. He had a crazy time in his past, himself.

He doesn't really care for some of the food she likes, but then again he'd eat anything if it meant eating with her, so it's not really an issue.

It takes a long time to go visit her parents, since they live over in the US, but he can't say that he hates them being starstruck when he arrives. The only trouble is that they keep trying to speak Korean to him and are so bad at it he can't really tell what they're saying. Given his personal grasp on English, she ends up having to do most of the communication as the translator, but it's a pleasant visit anyway and it makes him all the more determined to get his parents to accept her.

Which isn't made any easier by the fact that she's not Korean. To say his mother is 'displeased' would be an understatement. But he's not really new to disappointing her, so he won't give up, not on his relationship with his true love and not on fixing his relationship with his parents.

Obviously gossip mags go crazy about it. Famous actor Zen dates a strange foreigner girl! Love that transcends the barriers of culture, or something more sinister?!

It's not so bad until certain catty fans get involved. The fact that she doesn't look 'beautiful' enough for the Gorgeous Zen eventually erupts through the fandom, with all sorts of nasty comments coming up because of her foreign appearance. She handles it well, but he loses it and almost makes a public scene the time someone called her a giant ugly ogre. In the end, he decides to make a point of informing interviewers how beautiful she is during all future interviews. It's petty, but that's him.

It actually boosts his popularity, being the Romantic Zen who's hopelessly in love with his girlfriend.

Her fashion taste is atrocious, though. He doesn't know how to break it to her. It's just bad! Even if it's trendy in the US...he just doesn't like it...

They might be a bad influence on each other, since their drinking competitions seem to get out of hand and sometimes lead to Jumin or 707 collecting them in a place neither of them even remember going to.

She eats like some kind of a gorilla without any concern for politeness, and apparently without even realizing that's what she's doing, but it's honestly so cute to him that he doesn't mind. That said, it's not the best thing for his heart when she accidentally disrespects one of his directors in front of the whole crew. He manages to recover, but that particular cultural difference catches him off guard.

For the most part, though, her little quirks and differences just enchant him more. After all, she's his perfect princess, and she already was before they'd ever even met.

~Jumin~

He admittedly had something of a suspicion that she might be foreign or mixed, as he heard the difference in her voice when on the phone with her. He's still a little surprised to open the door and see just what she looks like, though.

Of course his English is flawless, as he needs to be able to converse internationally for business, and Chinese and English are essentially a requirement for that. He can't say he isn't pleased when she determines his 'English voice' (whatever that's supposed to mean) is 'sexy'...but he's also pretty sure she's the first one to think that.

His experience overseas means that he immediately recognizes that her disrespect to his father when they meet is unintentional. It's still cute, to him. As is her obvious mortification when Jaehee pulls her aside to explain. His own insult, however, is entirely intentional when his father starts planning plastic surgery appointments to 'bring her appearance more in line'.

Her bluntness is something that he heartily appreciates, and it honestly makes him more comfortable to know that he needn't worry about avoiding offending her by being direct as he prefers to be. She's not technically part of the company, but the idea does amuse him to make her one and bring her along to negotiations. They could play good cop-bad cop. (That particular line of thought travels off into imagining her in a police woman's uniform, and then he loses the train of thought entirely)

He thinks her taste in food is quirky, but his palate is somewhat expansive when it comes to international cuisine, so it works out just fine with him. Any food that he eats alongside her is food that he enjoys, so the issue is moot.

Apparently, the rumor magazines go wild every time she appears with him somewhere, but he never bothers to read those, so he has no idea what they have to say about her. If it's anything damaging, he trusts Jaehee to deal with it. It's probably for the best, because if he did catch any of the rude things they say about the gold digging foreign wife of the director of C&R, his policy of ignoring hateful comments would not hold up long.

That said, really the biggest culture clashes and shock come not from her American raising, but from her being poor. Most of what she learned about Korean culture before moving over just didn't touch on what the very rich and famous would be like.

~Jaehee~

Of the many things she had considered about her fellow female member of the RFA, that she might be a foreigner isn't one of them. Maybe she should have noticed from the little quirks in chat...but...no, everyone in the RFA is bizarre and always has been.

It suddenly makes sense why MC couldn't really understand what Jaehee was going through at work, and why MC hadn't been familiar with Zen! But that's just fine, because it means Jaehee gets the opportunity to introduce MC to all the more Zen things together!

She's not sure if she should be offended when the woman compares her cafe to Starbucks....but if she's compared to anything, it may as well be Starbucks. And it does give her the idea to make Zen-themed drinks, which means basking in his beauty at work while also helping to contribute to his popularity. Although, admittedly, it did more for her cafe than him.

She's occasionally mortified by the MC's unintentional rudeness, but more often than not her greatest concern to unexpected rudeness is finding a way to stifle her amused laughter. The sheer confusion on her ex-boss's face the first time it happens to him gets her through some of the rough times trying to set up and keep the business afloat.

She's not particularly good at English, but she's a fast learner, and even though the MC can speak Korean reasonably well, she wants to be able to speak in English too, so that they can both speak in their native languages when they want to. It means their cafe is bilingual, which makes it a tourist spot, which means that Zen actually can get extra exposure from it! She's as excited about that as the MC is.

She's less excited when the MC finally makes she and Jumin sit across each other and "talk about your problems or else". That's an awkward conversation she really could have done without. But...well, it's only inevitable MC's special kind of bluntness would eventually lead to something like that.

It goes better than she expects, actually, and the tension that's been zapping around them since that party finally goes away.

It goes too well.

He starts suggesting that they convert it to a cat cafe.

Oh no.

~707~

He could tell immediately from the moment he looked at the camera footage, which admittedly made the background check a little harder. It's fine though, because he did it several times, and now knows her family tree, GPA, and what boat her family got off on some hundred years ago.

The jig is up immediately, because he's a huge nerd and just immediately spoke in English when he called. He's fluent, obviously, but he doesn't get enough opportunities to practice, so now he can try out the 'cool' phrases he's come up with, and try to get rid of the pesky accent that gets in the way of certain assignments.

He doesn't tell anyone because it's way funnier for everyone to be confused when they come to the party and see someone they don't expect. He even offers a cute looking model to use as a messenger icon just to throw people off more.

He is way too excited the first time she comes home and said "Lucy, I'm home~!" - the fact that she's not an old fossil and thus actually didn't ever watch it in her life doesn't seem to matter to him.

At one point he playfully suggests that USA sinks actually have PhD Pepper running through their pipes instead of water, but she gets him back by saying she prefers doh-ritos to honey buddha chips. He's horrified and declares her tastes are never to be trusted again.

In reality, though, their tastes align pretty closely. Heavily greasy and extra sweet food with zero nutritional value are his heaven (she insists there's plenty of nutritional value. He pretends he doesn't hear her.)

For the most part, it's no different for him where the MC is from, because he doesn't exactly fit in himself and he's been all over the place anyway. The only significant conflict between them due to cultural differences came from when he decided to show up at her place and then immediately turn the cold shoulder and try to push her away.

He almost died.

She's terrifying.

~V~

He can't see a difference

he's blind

im kidding, i just don’t know v enough to include him

#rfa headcanons #mysme #mystic messenger #jumin han #707 #mysme zen #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #mysme v #ask #libralita

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thedistrictsleepsalonetonight · 3 years

Text

Better with you

This is the way of things:

Riley falls in love with Harper. Harper breaks her heart. Harper falls in love with Abby. Harper marries Abby. Abby has a friend. Riley falls in love.

In retrospect it both annoys and amazes her how Harper conditions so much of her life. If she imagined her life in the form of roads as complex, as confused and as diverging as the lines on her palm, there are probably multiple signboards that have Harper’s face on them, with some strange quote written beside them along the lines of “Hey! Been a while since you thought of me, the girl who ruined most of your life hasn’t it?”.

Riley hates it.

Okay, so in all honesty, she hates it until she crashes into Maya.

*****

Here’s the thing about Riley: She’s stupid around the people she loves.

How else does one explain all her major life decisions? She stays quiet when Austin Thomas spray-paints “Dike” all over her locker (even through the shaking, and the trembling and the huddling in a bathroom cubicle in the morning, what has her more concerned is what it’s probably doing to Harper. Well, that, and the fact that dyke is hilariously misspelled). She watches Harper from across the corridor, biting her lip, holding onto her left arm with her right hand, and hates that she still wants her so badly that she can’t breathe. She hates herself for loving Harper, hates her heart for betraying her in this very fundamental way, hates it for not being able to think rationally enough.

(The thought makes her laugh. What brand of love was ever rational?)

Even after she’s adequately moved on, has fallen in love a second time, the third, the fourth, she can never really bring herself to do that. The thought of Harper will evoke all forms of insufferable feelings ranging from sorrow to nostalgia. Not fury, though. Never fury.

She walks out of high school with excellent grades, graduates med school top of her class, gets into the one of the best residency programs in her state, all in a misguided attempt to compensate for this huge cosmic failing she’s somehow been saddled with. If life handed out academic report cards, chits of paper with affirmations engraved on them, then the ones she would give her parents would read Your child is doing great; She’s sorry she’s gay. Your child is trying her very best. A tiny PS at the bottom right corner would say – Love her. Please.

And she comes back, every year, to those stupid White Elephant parties, combats side-glances with polite smiles, off-hand comments about how her peers are heterosexually married to their heterosexual partners with grimaces. Brevity helps, and so does a glass of wine on her at all times.

And then Harper brings Abby, one Christmas.

*****

She’s not going to deny that she has a little bit of a crush on Abby.

Come on. It’s Abby. She’s a lesbian dreamboat with some serious hair-game and the gayest sense of dressing she’s ever seen on anyone. How is a girl supposed to not like that earnest smile and deep, soulful eyes?

(But Abby’s earnest smile unfurls like a ribbon when it falls on Harper, and her eyes tell stories that seem to end at Harper, and Riley knows that in some rudimentary way, Abby has always, and will be always belong to her girlfriend.)

“Dude, we have to stay in touch,” Abby says, the morning after the party, when they run into each other. “I’m gonna need support at the White Christmas party next year. So, I don’t accidentally use the wrong fork and then embarrass myself.”

She laughs, enters her number into Abby’s phone. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to text all the time, because, well — hospital hours. But I will try.”

Harper, standing beside Abby, shoots her a tiny, strained smile. Things will never be great between them; there’s too much spilled blood, and angry tears that lie in this chasm, but this is maybe a tiny start to bring matters back to the way they were when it all started. Polite. Nice.

Abby texts her — “I can’t believe I survived the Caldwells” five days later, and Riley has no idea at the time, but good things are on their way.

*****

“Please, please, please, please, pleeeeease,” Abby begs her over the phone. Riley is pretty sure she’s actually holding her hand out in supplication.

“Can’t you just give her flowers and chocolate like a normal person?”

A dog barks on the other end, and Riley imagines her walking dogs on the streets. “But I know this is something she really, really wants!”

“An obsolete book that’s only found in a bookstore in New York?”

“Yes!” Abby replies. “Wait, hang on. John, tell her how important it is.”

Some muffled noises, then John’s clear, deadpan voice is audible. “Hey Riley,” he says, sounding disinterested as always, “How are — wait, lemme at least ask her how she’s been, how life in New York has been, if there are any cute guys in her hospital—”

Riley stifles a laugh.

“—yeah, yeah, okay. Fine. Riley, this woman really wants it, God knows why. So I’ll be in New York this weekend. I’ll come with you to that store and then bring that book back.”

“So why do I have to come?”

“Because,” Abby sighs, like it should be obvious, “I don’t trust John.”

Weekend. Sleeping in. Riley closes her eyes, whispers a Rest in peace to a previously perfect weekend.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

*****

The woman nearly scares her out of her wits.

She’s split up with a still-woozy-from-his-flight John as he’s set off to find the book, and thumbing through the random paperbacks on the Fiction shelf, when a voice interrupts her musing.

“I wouldn’t recommend that one,” Riley hears, and whirls around, wide-eyed.

A woman steps out of the dark corner, hands held up as if in warning, an apologetic smile on her face. “I’m sorry,” she says, awkwardly, “that I — I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Riley shakes her head, waves a hand to tell her it’s alright. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Pretentious. Definitely sat with a thesaurus. Too many men.”

The tiny detective that sits at the back of head, the one that registers women, and says “It’s elementary, Watson” every time it sees behavior that might be not-heterosexual, goes off with a ding.

“Too many men is a problem,” she admits, wryly, broadcasting her own message in case there was a willing audience. I’m gay I’m gay I’m gay. “What would you suggest?”

The woman steps into the light, slow enough so Riley knows she’s going to enter her personal space. She picks out a book from the top shelf easily, holds it out in front of her.

This close, Riley can’t help but stare. She’s taller, with dark hair that falls just past her shoulders. She’s wearing thick glasses, and behind that, her eyes are tiny and smiling. Riley smiles back, a little awkwardly. Looks at the book, then laughs.

“Sorry,” the woman chuckles, pointing to the copy of Midnight Sun that she’s just handed over, “Little joke.”

They’re still smiling at each other, when John ruins it all by exclaiming “Maya!” from behind her. And that’s when Riley discovers how easy it is to manufacture meet-cutes. And that she really, really hates Abby Holland.

*****

“How dare you?”

Abby sighs on the other end. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

John, who is currently scarfing down a hotdog, mumbles his apologies into the speaker.

“I tried.”

“You didn’t even try,” Abby retorts. “What was the one thing I told you? Don’t let her on to the fact that you know Maya. And what did you do?”

“My best.”

Riley snatches it from him. “Don’t you think it’s a little weird of you to be setting up your girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend with your friend?”

(Just saying the whole thing aloud makes her head hurt)

“Harper doesn’t mind,” Harper’s reserved yet slightly amused voice comes, a little muffled. “Because Harper thinks it’s hilarious.”

There had been three rules, three rules that she had laid out for Abby at the very beginning, when their friendship was still in its tentative stages. One, no weird conversations about Harper. Two, no weird medical questions about fingers. And three, no setting Riley up on blind dates.

Riley had dodged Abby’s attempts to break rule number three about five times already.

(Who knew one could have so many single, willing and Sapphic friends in New York city? Part of Riley was annoyed; the other part was impressed)

“It’s not going to happen, you hear me?” she enunciates. “Absolutely not.”

*****

Riley doesn’t know why she’s back at the bookstore.

Well, she does. Officially, that is. As she had told John already, she hated the idea of things being so awkward, and that Maya must’ve felt that she was rude for clamming up after the whole story came to light, and that she definitely ought to go clear things up with her, let her know very politely that it wasn’t in the cards. John had uh-huh-ed and mm-hmm-ed and nodded until she got annoyed at herself for overexplaining. It was simply a courtesy call, that’s all. Nothing more, nothing else.

(If part of the reason she wants to go back is because, after a long, long time, she went to sleep with someone’s face in the back of her mind that night, kept replaying that certain someone’s voice over and over, it is none of John’s business. Or Abby’s, for that matter.)

It was crazy. Crazy. They’d had one conversation, and part of it had been after Riley had found out she was supposed to be set up, and thus had been filled with Maya trying to ease things over. There was no reason she needed to be thinking this much about someone.

(Not that she was. Thinking that much. About a woman. Just a regular amount)

“So wait, let me get this straight,” Maya looks right at her, “You came all this way to tell me that you don’t want to go on a date with me?”

Well now Riley just feels stupid. “Yes.”

Maya tilts her head a little. “Okay,” she says, “Just out of curiosity, what’s your problem with being set up with people?”

Oh, this she can answer. “One, the general awkwardness with your friends if it doesn’t work out,” she ticks off on her fingers. “Two, too much pressure to make it work. Three, I’m not—”

“—yes?”

Lovable. Bearable. Worth it.

“—looking to date?”

“What qualifies as a date to you, though?”

“A meal shared with romantic intent. Holding doors open, pulling chairs out. You know, the drill.”

Maya seems to be mulling it over. “Alright,” she says, nodding slowly. “What if.... what if two people were to spend time together with no food, no holding doors open or pulling chairs out? Technically that wouldn’t be a date, would it?”

Riley has to bite at the inside of her cheek to smother the smile that’s threatening to set up home on her lips.

“No,” she replies, “It wouldn’t.”

*****

This is what not-dating Maya is like.

It’s tired half-hour phone conversations at odd hours of the day. Riley doesn’t have a lot of time free, but she doesn’t go to sleep without talking to her at least once. She falls asleep to Maya nerding out about the books she’s read, about how she wants to own a gay café, about how she saw the ugliest shirt on a discount store window, bought it, and couldn’t wait to put it on. Wakes up to texts that read “Okay I know you fell asleep but I can’t, so I’m just gonna rant about random shit you can read about when you’re up, okay?” followed by some inane discussion on whether her pillow would be a salad or a sandwich if it could be eaten. It’s stumbling on the streets, half-carrying a drunk Maya as she navigates the confusing maze of New York avenues, and insists on having pizza wherever she goes. It’s bright smiles shot across coffee shops, tired rants before bed. It’s easy.

It’s so easy that Riley has no idea what to do.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asks John on the phone, right before she tells him what’s been happening the past month.

To his credit, he listens to the whole thing before he says something monumentally stupid.

“A whole month and you haven’t had sex? I thought you had game.”

“Oh, fuck off. It’s not like that.”

“You don’t want to have sex with her?”

She’s blushing. “I — I do,” she says, feeling hot all over at the very thought. “I just — it’s not — not what’s important.”

“No, I mean, seriously” he says. “What do you guys even do? Stare at each other’s faces all day?”

“I wish I could stare at her face all day,” she says, before she’s even thinking about it. “Her face is all.... nice. Pretty. Oh God.”

“Oh God is right, darling,” he sounds amused. “You got it bad.”

“I do not — got it bad.”

“You do.”

“I do not — ugh fine.”

“Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that you do got it,” he proposes. “What are you going to do about it?”

Riley takes a deep breath, lets it out. She has no answer to that.

*****

The next day, Maya says, sheepishly — “I guess you finally told Abby, huh?”

“Wait, what?” she’s confused. “Told her what?”

Maya blinks, awkwardly, waves a hand between them. Realization dawns.

“I told John!” Riley tells her, furiously. “That asshole must have told her.”

Maya shrugs a shrug that seems to convey how stupid it was to trust John with keeping secrets from Abby of all people.

“But also,” Riley frowns, “I thought you must have told her already.”

“Nah, I hadn’t.”

“Why not?”

Maya shrugs again, hands in her pockets. “I didn’t know if you wanted her to know.”

And see, it’s this consideration that leaves her lacking for words. Maya is effortlessly considerate, to the point where she wouldn’t say something even if it was bothering her. She’s constantly putting Riley’s needs in front of her own, constantly worried about how she feels and Riley is just. She’s just—

(The word grateful, smitten pops into her head. Refuses to exit)

“You’re nice,” she says, because other adjectives would be too revealing. You’re amazing. You’re beautiful. You’re probably the light of my life.

“I’m only nice to you, Riley,” Maya admits, very frankly. Riley kind of wants to ask her why that is. She’s kind of scared to ask her why that is.

*****

“Just ask her out, already, jeez.”

“I — I can’t,” she tells Abby, sitting at the park, phone in her hand.

“You like her,” Abby states. “She likes you. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“She likes me?” Riley asks, knowing that she’s probably giving away all her hope in her voice.

(Okay, in some weird, convoluted way, she knows Maya likes her already. She’s not completely useless, contrary to popular lesbian stereotype. Just an—

“-Idiot,” she hears, a deadpan chastisement that she rolls her eyes at, “What are you even waiting for?”

“I — I’m not — I don’t know, okay? I’m not—”

The ghosts of her ex-girlfriends in the background, go — Good at being emotionally available. Good at being committed. Good at loving people. Good.

Abby stays quiet.

“I don’t think I can make her happy,” Riley says, finally.

There’s the sound of a sigh on the other end. “What if you already do?”

*****

“Again,” she says, as she’s walking backwards, “I am so, so sorry.”

Maya, who has been waiting for her to get done with her surgeries since two hours now, and will probably have to wait another couple of them, waves her phone in the air, laughs. “I’ll read a book until you get back, okay? Go do your thing.”

She’s on an ob-gyn rotation, but thankfully, the delivery goes smoothly. And a good thing it is, because her head is all over the place. Two warring factions are on a rampage — one that’s raring to go tell the girl of Riley’s dreams that she is, in fact, that girl of Riley’s dreams, and the other equally strong battalion that is standing there with flags raised, flags that read – But what if it goes wrong?

Here’s the second thing about Riley: Love barely ever goes right around her.

Oh, she’s dated people before. Loved them, adored them. And yet, things always start falling apart after a while, start shattering into pieces. Honestly, she doesn’t even blame them. Who wants someone who barely has time to talk for an hour because she’s almost always busy, who is ridiculously tired most days, and barely has the time or energy to grow a relationship?

(So it will happen when it happens, but also, when it happens, Riley has a tendency of scrambling for cover)

She walks into the main hall with the paperwork, and stands at the nurses’ station, lets out a deep breath.

“Your girl tuckered out an hour ago,” Shaqueel tells her, leaning against the table, casually interested. She can see the rest of the nurses leaning in for better quality audio.

“Not my girl,” she tells him, fighting to keep a straight face.

“Really?” Julie asks, face resting on her elbow, an expression Riley can only describe as sappy on her face. “Because she would like to be, that’s for sure.”

Riley turns to Danny. “I told you to make sure none of these,” she waves a hand towards all of them, “busybodies talk to her!”

He shrugs. “What can I say? They were determined.”

“Useless,” she says, already walking away. There’s so much damage control to be done.

Danny texts her a “She’s a keeper”, as she’s walking, and even though she’s mad at all of them, part of her is inclined to agree.

*****

Maya is sleeping.

Riley knows the tone in which she’s thinking this is certainly not the one two strictly platonic buddies would take while referring to each other and yet the tenderness seeps in, anyways. She looks at the hair falling over her askew glasses and wants to brush it off; looks at her dozing with her mouth open and the sight is such a perfect mixture to utterly absurd and adorable that she wants to wake up to it in the morning. Every day.

She takes a deep breath, presses at all of her wants and urges until they’re packed, once again, in the already filled box related to all things Maya in her head. Kneels so she’s almost at her level, and gently taps Maya on the shoulder.

(Waking up comes as beautifully to Maya as do all things, and Riley is most definitely an idiot in love)

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she says, softly, her eyes still squinty from the last remnants of her nap.

“Don’t apologize,” Riley replies, equally as soft. “I fall asleep all the time on the phone.”

“Eh, you save babies. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.”

“Riley,” Maya tells her, very seriously. “I would wait a lot longer for you.”

(And because being stupid is a fundamental quality of Riley being in love, there’s absolutely no way she isn’t swooning at that, inside)

She’s sleepy and tired and stupid right now, so it’s probably coloring her judgement, but she’s done caring. Riley Johnson is not letting this one get away.

“Would you,” she starts, slowly, “consider waiting two more days so you can take me out to a fancy restaurant on Saturday?”

There’s a light in Maya’s eyes that she can only classify as hope. “Depends. Would you open the door for me and pull my chair out?”

Riley’s smiling so wide her cheeks hurt. “Absolutely.”

“Well, then,” Maya says, leaning in, “It’s about fucking time.”

#happiest season #fanfiction #riley owns my heart #okay so this comes out of my intense need to give riley her own happy ending because the woman was a freaking angel #and its kinda all over the place so there #also im convinced john and riley would be the best of friends #and maya just looks like elizabeth olsen to me idky

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devourer--of--books · 4 years

Text

if you’re not the bride (deluxe version)

So you may be wondering why is it you're seeing this. Hello, it is I again. If you're here, maybe you're familiar with the original "if you're not the bride', which I posted about three years ago. In case you're not, then, hello, welcome, when I was 15 I wrote a story under this same title. Then forgot all about it. But every so often someone would come across this story and I was reminded of its existence. Then, back in september 2019, I decided to read it again, correct some grammar and call it a day, you know, just so I could rest assured I hadn't written something horrible. Turns out, it got a bit out of hand and I decided to rewrite the whole thing. However, due to the fact that college is the worst, I never finished it and, well, forgot about it, again. Now, as quarantine came around, I found my rewrite from 6 months ago and since I got the time why not, right? This is now more than double the size of the original and has a lot more of backstory than intended. You can still find the original with some corrections here on AO3 and , and the cursed unedited version somewhere on tumblr for the sake of nostalgia. Warnings: There's cursing, some drinking and good old make outs. July 2020 edit: here I am, re-edting this thing again. This all said, welcome folks, to the deluxe version:

"You're going to what?!" Agatha raised her voice, tightly holding her phone to her ear. Surely, she must have heard Sophie wrong. Her friend did have a reputation for being over the top, but this was beyond absurd.

When people said that being friends with Sophie was…an exotic experience, they weren't completely wrong, per say. Being friends with Sophie could be a lot like being friends with a hungry animal. She was ruthless, dangerous and not trustworthy about 60% of the time. Sophie would do most anything to get whatever she wanted and absolutely would step over you in the process (sometimes for no reason other than because it amused her to do so). It wasn't personal, mostly. It was simply her nature.

For her, there were two kinds of people: her friends and her enemies. It was very easy to go from one category to another and anything in between simply couldn't be processed by her brain.

Sophie was a difficult person.

Agatha could tell you in more detail, she would know. Being Sophie's best friend wasn't exactly a dream come true. It had its perks of course, and when all was said and done, Sophie was an okay-ish person and a mostly good friend, but you gotta give it up to Agatha; it was no task for the weak-hearted.

They had been friends since kindergarten and were as different from one another as it gets. Had they met later in life, Agatha is certain they would've never become friends at all. Sophie was a loud, gorgeous (and kinda mean) blonde bombshell and Agatha was a grumpy, average-looking mostly nice girl (she wouldn't call herself kind, really, her niceness was more of a subproduct of her aloofness than anything else). The two of them disagreed in most anything and had not that much in common. Yet, it somehow worked. They argued a lot, as in, a lot, but it was always fixed within a weeks' time, in a coffee shop, over a good old vanilla latte and some black tea.

An odd pair, to say the least.

Which was fine by them. Sophie… was a work in progress. She was trying.

Nevertheless, every once in a while, something like this would happen. Because Sophie was still Sophie and her head worked in mysterious ways.

"I'm getting married, Aggie," Agatha could practically hear the blonde rolling her eyes on the other side of the device, "people do that all the time. It's, like, a thing."

"Sophie, you're not even done with college yet! Getting married with what money? As far as I know, your modeling barely pays your rent and don't even get me started on your student loan and credit card debt! And getting married to whom? Last time I checked, you weren't even going out with anyone!" She tried to cool her head, catching her breath while trying to recall any possible groom Sophie could have taken. "Unless… Are you marring Hort?"

A disgusted groan was heard.

"Ew, no. Not Hort, for God's sake. What do you think I am? Desperate?"

A bit, but Agatha didn't dare say it out loud.

Hort was a guy who lived at the apartment just below Sophie's, in a tiny complex downtown. They've known each other for quite a long time now. It was practically common knowledge that Hort acquired the biggest crush on her the moment he first laid eyes on her. It was all the old ladies from 1A and 2C ever talked about.

Over the years, he became quite easy on the eyes, even Sophie had to admit it. No longer the scrawny awkward kid that helped Agatha drag Sophie's couch upstairs (while Sophie flirted with the trucker, trying to get free shipping for her mattress, which, by the way, she got), but a fully formed man, completely jacked, and with a growing bank account to match, due to his fitness-program-thingy taking off. Agatha didn't really know the details of that, but she knew it was going well, mostly because Sophie told her so.

Anyway, he claimed to not want anything to do with her friend nowdays.

Yeah, right.

Agatha felt bad for him, she really did.

Loving Sophie was like loving a hurricane. Violent, brutal and downright painful.

She had initially assumed it would go away with time, that he would eventually see that they weren't compatible and let it go.

However, it was a bit more complicated than that, as most things in life tend to be.

She knew he and Sophie had hooked up, in fact, she knew that they did so often. Sophie hadn't told her, but she didn't need to. Agatha knew. The aftermath was never good, and for the sake of keeping things short and lighthearted, Agatha shall spare you the angst and just say that, as mentioned above, Sophie was fantastic at getting whatever she wanted and disregarding other people's feelings.

Honestly, Hort could say he wasn't into Sophie all he liked. At the end of the day, he was still living at that shitty apartment (even though he could probably have moved somewhere better a long time ago), hadn't seriously dated anyone since meeting her and was responsible for at least half of Sophie's modeling gigs, which were her friend's main source of income. Agatha had warned him, several times, mind you, but all you can do is all you can do. The heart wants what it wants, she presumes.

"If not Hort, who then?"

"Oh, you don't know him yet," She could practically see Sophie twirling a golden lock on her fingers, a mischievous smirk on her face.

"Clearly," Agatha rolled her eyes and put her phone on speaker to be able to look around for her keys more comfortably. Reaper, her cat, had a bad habit of hiding them in the weirdest places. "Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone last time we went out for coffee?"

"Because I wasn't seeing anyone at the time," the blonde-haired woman sounded a bit annoyed, seemingly not understanding why Agatha was having such a hard time believing her ludicrous story.

"Sophie."

"Yes, Aggie?"

"That was literally three weeks ago."

"It's true love, Agatha. I can feel it. This is my real-life fairytale. I found the perfect guy for me. He's so different from anyone I've ever met…" Agatha tuned her out, finally realizing what was going on.

For Sophie, everyone she dates is her one true love. She was intense like that. There were lots of "perfect guys" on the list, too many, and eventually Agatha grew tired of counting them. Neither did she remember their names. Why bother, when Sophie would grow tired of them soon enough?

Her friend's drug of choice just so happened to be was serial dating with lots of love-bombing on the side.

Parents got divorced? Look at this cute basketball player that will probably cheat on me.

Bad day at a shoot? Oh, that barista is so sexy, bet he'll hook up with me anyway.

I have no idea where my career is going and hate my major? Why not call Hort up, right?

But getting actually married? That's new.

Agatha sighed, picking up her keys from the pot of her balcony plant. Time to be the be the grown-up. Again.

"Sophie, are you 100% sure you want to get married to this guy? Can't you wait a few months at least? How about you guys move in with each other first?" If Sophie doesn't tire of him, that would terrify the poor thing into ending this madness. Again, Agatha would know. She had to stay at Sophie's for a few weeks once, back when she had split with a partner whom she had been living with; it was hell on earth.

"Weren't you hearing, Aggie? We. Are. Soulmates. He is very serious about me. He's so in love with me, he would never hurt me, and I need to tie him down before he runs away. Isn't this what people always say?" Her friend's voice was getting snappy. Oh, no, not good.

"Sophie, I just think you should be more careful and reasonable…" Agatha tried to pacify, tiredly.

Did she not own any clean jeans? Damn. Why does she keep forgetting to do her laundry? The blue skirt she wore to work would have to do.

"It's always reason, with you, Agatha! You never listen to your heart! I thought you would be happy for me! You're always telling me just how much potential I have! He brings out the best in me! What do you even know about relationships anyway, you always end up ru-"

"SOPHIE!" She interrupted, before her friend could say something she'd regret and crush whatever good mood was left in Agatha's body. "I'm just surprised, that's all. Tell me about this guy…?"

Fuck it, she decided. Agatha was in currently in a hurry and this could be solved later. She wasn't going to be able to win Sophie over the phone. Maybe she could sit her down on sunday, have one long talk about red flags in relationships, again. Convince her to stay engaged for a bit longer, just enough for her to get bored and then call it all off as soon as the new whats-his-face walks through the door.

Now was not the moment to be arguing, especially if she wanted to be on time.

"…And he's so great and wonderful, he's tall, has these hypnotizing eyes, they're so intense, it's like they suck you in, Aggie! His hair is just wow, it's a very uncommon shade of blonde, the undertone is beautiful, so expensive-looking... but it's natural, he swears. And his skin is so soft, you wouldn't believe, his name is…"

Agatha tried to listen. She really did. However, all she could hear was "bla, bla, bla, perfect, bla, bla, bla, handsome". Lord, not this again. Did it get worse every time...?

The brunette stuffed her wallet in a handbag, grappling to close it (it had been a present from Sophie, and as such, probably hardwired to annoy her and look good at the same time), and gave herself a look over in the mirror, before frowning. Oh, time for her limited make-up skills to be of use.

Damn, she looked rough. She left in hurry that morning, so her bare face stared back at her in its full sleepless-racoon glory.

It has been a long week of nothing but late nights trying to get her workload done. She couldn't believe she was saying this, but she missed college. At least back then she didn't have to worry about rent. Oh, to be young, broke, dead-inside and living on a dorm. The wonders, truly.

Concealer, blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. There. Done.

Kinda?

"… So, are you up to it?"

What.

"… Hm, sure?" She responded, still trying to evaluate if her liner was acceptably symmetrical. It wasn't. It never was, but it wasn't always this bad. Really, not her best work. Maybe she could fix it, somehow?

"That's amazing, you'll look so pretty, the dress I picked is perfect for your undertone, you'll be the best maid-of-honor ever!"

Oh, god, no. No way. What has she done?

Should she do that red-flag-talk now?

"How… nice of you to say that," Agatha replied, barely contained horror coming across in her tone. Not that Sophie paid her any attention.

"I set the date for the engagement brunch-party for tomorrow around 10am. At the terrace. And speaking of dates, I must introduce you to someone, he's great, Aggie, and I think you guys could…"

No. No. No. Agatha is drawing the line here.

"Oh really, cool, hey I have to go, callyoulaterbye-"

Agatha throws her phone on the bed, groaning loudly. Reaper stirs in her pillow, but is otherwise unbothered by the conversation, unlike his owner.

Of all things… getting married. Agatha was now her bridesmaid. Engagement brunch…?

Sophie, why. Why?

Agatha was now an accomplice of this crime against good judgement, wasn't she? Should she call Sophie again…?

Ugh, you know what? She'll sort this out this later. Sophie could wait a few hours, Agatha earned this night out.

…This totally is going to come back to bite her, isn't it?

Well, too late, Agatha's leaving. Because, unlike Sophie, who clearly had too much free time in her hands, Agatha had things to do and couldn't just waste her precious friday nights on this kind of bullshit.

"You're late," is the first thing Hester says to Agatha, not even lifting her gaze from her phone as she approaches their table.

It was the usual one, right by the wall, perfectly placed so it was far enough from the dance floor but close enough to the bar, so it was still socially acceptable to be seated but not too "loser-zoned", in Hester's own words.

Hester herself looked the same as always. Dressed head-to-toe in black and showing off an impressive number of tattoos per square inch of skin, she made quite the intimidating sight. The only tip to her actual day job was the discarded white blazer and sleek suitcase lying on a chair beside her. Back in school, Agatha used to find it hard to picture Hester being anything but a witchy-biker or a badass-tattoo-artist, but she supposed scary-lawyer suited her friend just fine.

"Nice to see you too, Hester. I've been well, thanks for asking," Agatha sits down, annoyed. She knows she's late. She missed the "early-comers, free entrance" time, and damn if the isn't pissed that she's now 15 bucks broker then she already was. "Anadil, Dot, it's great to see you guys too"

Both women acknowledge her presence quietly: Anadil nods,before getting up from her spot and leaving to god-wishes-he-knew-where and Dot hugs her briefly, headed to the bar.

Hester rolls her eyes and repeats herself.

"You're late."

"Shut up, I'm here, aren't I?!" Agatha snaps, before she bit her lip and propped her elbows onto the table, head in her hands.

The gesture makes Hester lift her eyes from the phone, finally.

"Well, someone's had a bad day."

"Look, I'm sorry. It's been one looong horrid day. Have you ordered any drinks? Or are we going for beer tonight?" Agatha asks, going over the familiar menu, even though she has every beverage price there already memorized.

"Okay, slow down," Hester yanks the menu out of her hands. "Have you eaten? I'm not going to take care of you if you didn't."

Yes, she would, but that's not relevant.

"Yes, mom," Agatha rolled her eyes. "I'm tired, tomorrow is gonna suck, let's drink."

"Tomorrow? Tomorrow's saturday, loser, sleep to your hearts content," Hester reminds her, but at seeing Agatha stare back at her in misery it occurred to her what, or rather, who, this was about.

"Blondie has been texting me non-stop about brunch. At 10. What's up with that?" She lifts a brow, her judging eyes scanning Agatha's expression. Agatha in turn, lets her elbows drop and bangs her head onto the table, harder than originally planned, a whimper leaving her lips.

Hester sighs. She loves Agatha to the death, but when it comes to Sophie, she has always been way too forgiving. Agatha was not Sophie's mother, she shouldn't have to look out for her and bend over backyards to help her. Personally, Hester and Sophie didn't get along very well.

Which lead to: Sophie never invited Hester anywhere, unless she wanted to rub something in Hester's face.

"...Apparently, she's getting married in, like, two weeks?" Hester's brows lift in surprise. "...To some guy I don't know?" Higher. "...And I'm a bridesmaid?" Almost disappearing into her hairline by now.

Awkward pause.

"Okay," Hester breathes in and out, "what the actual hell?"

"My words exactly."

"She'll be over it in a week," the tattooed woman deadpans.

"No doubt," the other replies.

Three more seconds go by, and it's far too long for Agatha, whose leg starts to twitch under the table.

"You're doing it again," she states.

"Doing what?" Hester asks, crossing her arms, lying back at her chair.

"That thing."

"What thing?"

"You know," Agatha vaguely gestures at Hester's face, "that thing your eyebrows do when you're being judgy."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"I so need a drink right now," she tells her before leaving the table.

At the bar counter, Agatha sits down on a stool and waits for the bartender, Chaddick, to show up, ignoring Hester's glare on her back.

Now for some unnecessary backstory, in case you're interested: Agatha and Chaddick had a bit of history (read, beef) long before this club, The Woods, opened and even before Agatha and Hester started to have their monthly night-out there.

Chaddick was a jock whom Agatha went to school with, all the way from sixth grade to senior year of high school. To be brief, he was the worst ™. He made fun of her, tormented her days, spread rumors about her (including one that she was witch, which lasted for years) and even stole her stuff once. In senior year, he had even developed this habit of showing up with his friends at the tea place her mother owned, where she had worked a few shifts from time to time, ordering not a single drop of fucking tea, being loud and annoying for hours and only leaving when closing hour neared.

Agatha was sure that if you googled 'jackass', his picture would turn up. He'd been so full of himself, all because he had some cash, was athletic and was "cute", you know, in that white-upper-middle-class-way that most school-aged popular boys tended to be. But then, flash-forward: Chaddick now worked wednesday to saturday as a bartender at Agatha's favorite club. Apparently, his parents went bankrupt or something during college. Agatha felt kinda bad for him, but not really? She supposed he wasn't as terrible of a human being nowadays, but she was not about to go ahead and call him her friend, no matter how many times she had to make small talk with him for the sake of bar etiquette.

"So what's it gonna be today?" The bartender asked, not quite politely, but she lets it slide, for she could tell he was as thrilled about this conversation as her.

Chaddick, too, looks the same, to no one's surprise. He looked more tired, but still douchey enough that Agatha didn't feel too horrible of a person for not feeling as sorry for him as she probably should.

"Surprise me. I've had a very bad day."

"Is Sophie actually up to something then?" He asks while grabbing some bottles, "I hear there's going to be a brunch-party tomorrow…?"

"Who told you? Reena?" Chaddick dismisses the name casually with his hand. "Gisele?" 'no', he denies with his head. "Beatrix then?" he nods, uncharacteristically shy, and Agatha nearly felt pleased, before she remembered what they were talking about before. "Bingo. But yes, there's a brunch-party tomorrow. An engagement brunch-party."

He hands her a cup, wide-eyed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Engagement? Do I even wanna know w-"

"You don't. Trust me on this," Agatha cuts him off, taking a sip of the beverage. She doesn't recognize its taste, which makes her wary. She knows her alchool. "What did you even put here?"

"It's a secret, tonight's special," he winked mockingly, before hurrying on to the next client.

Agatha briefly wonders if she should drink the rest of it, eyeing the cup curiously. It didn't smell bad and she kind of liked the taste. Should she trust Chaddick? Probably not. Then again, Agatha needed a drink tonight.

It would be fine. She is no lightweight, Hester is here, tomorrow's saturday. Right?

Another thing that would probably bite her later. So, she braces herself and downs the cup in a few large sips, heading back to her table.

Bring it on.

Two other cups of who-knows-what and an hour later, Agatha was back at the bar, now sitting in different stool, as far from Chaddick as she possibly could be, when a body drops on the sit next to her.

It's Dot, giggling loudly like a high school girl on heavy drugs.

The giggling persists for quite some time.

... It's kinda creeping Agatha out.

"Penny for your thoughts…?" She tries, taking a sip of her drink.

No response.

Giggle.

More silence.

"Hm, Dot?"

She continues to stare at her joyfully, still smiling like a madwoman.

Agatha found Dot adorable and friendly, which was a surprise since she was one of Hester's best friends. The two of them weren't really that close themselves, but she did enjoy her company. Being friends with Dot was as easy as it was harmless.

"Don't look, but there's a really hot guy right by the pool table who hasn't been able to take his eyes off you for the last fifteen minutes."

Agatha's eyebrows shot up in Hester-like fashion and she fights the instinct to turn around and check if Dot isn't messing with her.

She knows she is not the most attractive female in the room. Agatha tends to think of herself as more of an acquired taste, truly. Yet, every blue moon someone would come over to try their luck with her. Sometimes they're cute, sometimes they're funny and sometimes they're just desperate. So far, "hot guys" haven't really been her target demographic.

"So what? What's the big deal?" She tries to keep her nerves out of her voice, mostly succeeding, but Dot's smile only grew more and more mischievous, as if seeing right through her.

"Turn around. I dare you not to remember him. Pretty sure Sophie told you about how she met him again a few weeks ago, at that event she went to? The one sponsored by Camelot International?"

…Okay, so Agatha might be a bit of a bad friend. She didn't listen to 90% of Sophie's rants about guys or modeling events, so most likely she had told her about him as Agatha did something else. Something important, really.

…Like playing games on her tablet.

She worked a lot, okay? Can't have people hogging all her free time. Even if it was Sophie. Her best friend.

Shit.

Agatha's face must have betrayed her because Dot laughed even louder than before.

"You seriously don't?" she managed to ask between giggles, as Agatha blushed, frowning.

"I should?"

"Most likely yes. Sometimes you're way too funny, you know?" Her smile was dangerous. Stop smiling at Agatha like that, woman.

It was at times like this she could see why Hester and Dot were such good friends.

"Thanks, I think?" Agatha eyes her companion carefully "How hot is this guy any…"

"Hot enough for you to talk to me, I hope," a male voice announced behind her, seemingly amused.

Not her day. Definitely not her day.

"He's right behind me?!"

Dot giggled loudly a final time before walking away to Hester's table. Very helpful. Forget what Agatha said about liking Dot. She didn't. Dot was a horrible person.

Agatha turned on her heels, facing the stranger with a sheepish smile. She was not ready for what was about to bite her.

Oh damn, please do.

…Figuratively, fuck. She meant in a figurative way.

Before we go on, Agatha would like to clarify that she blames any less than pure thoughts on Chaddick, because who knows what he put into her drink.

(Yeah, it's totally Chaddick's fault)

Amen, praise Jesus, okay?

Embarrassingly, her first instinct is to say that yes, he was totally hot enough to talk to her. Or come home with her. Or marry her (too soon for this joke, scratch that). That's not what she did, however. Oh, no, she stood there, in silence, and stared for quite a while before her brain rebooted and she finally gained control of her own body again.

Agatha is the first in line to advocate on why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but she had eyes.

He was tall. As tall, if not taller than her, and Agatha was a tall woman. His jeans looked expensive and his light blue social shirt was tight on his chest, almost as if it were a size too small, the top buttons open, defined muscles visible to even the most casual observer. The shirt was paired with a grey-ish tie that hanged loosely around his neck, a bit too effortless-looking to be unintentional. His features were sharp, sculpted even, a certain California-sunny-surfer meets Adonis-next-door quality to them. Soft blond locks had an unnatural shine under the club's lights, as if they were made of gold.

And his eyes, my god, they were so blue Agatha felt like sinking and drowning in his arms right then and there. Unfortunately, she couldn't. Because you see, she is a grown woman and had a little thing called dignity.

Not that she didn't want to though.

Focus.

He did look kind of familiar. Had they met before? Agatha doesn't think so. This man looked like he just walked out of a Calvin Klein ad, and she sure as hell didn't know many people who look like that. One of Sophie's model friends? If so, she certainly hadn't introduced the two.

Yet, the way he was looking at her right now indicated the reality that she should probably know who he is. Maybe he was from her old gym, back when she let Sophie talk her into going for a few months? No, there were no hot guys there, just old ladies and teenagers.

Okay, so, plan B, say something smart.

"Hm…"

Say something.

"…So…"

Anything!

He doesn't look very impressed by her articulate conversation skills, but Agatha can't place where she had seen him before. Maybe they had been neighbors at some point? She moved quite a few times in these last years and keeping track of all of them was impossible. But that didn't seem quite right. A friend of one of her exes then? Did they meet at pride or something?

Seriously, who was this guy! Acting all smooth, as if she should know who he is! He's good looking enough to be memorable sure, but clearly not memorable enough.

Hell, did she sleep with him? He must have been the worst one night stand ever for Agatha to somehow forget him. Maybe he was so bad that she forgot about him completely...?

"I give up, I can't remember you."

He looked a bit offended. Maybe he was indeed a Calvin Klein model.

"The name's Tedros…?"

Tedros, Tedros… Tedros?

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell," she concludes, "but, I'm, hm, Agatha?"

"I know," he responds, curt and firm, nearly glaring at her.

"Neat."

"Nice."

"Good."

"Great."

"Awesome."

"Amazing."

"Extraordinary."

"Now, that's a big word," he mocks. Agatha suspects he just didn't know any bigger ones to keep up. Part of her wishes to strangle him with his own tie and part of her wants to call him out on his shit. He approached her, okay? She is under no obligation to recognize him.

Her eyes narrow and she sips on her fourth cup again.

"Do you need for me to tell you what it means?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine."

The passive-aggressive-ness of this conversation is starting to exhaust her and kill any buzz she had, but she can't just let Mr. everyone-knows-who-I-am-and-I-look-like-walking-sex win. He needed to go down (on her). What.

"Hm, Tedros, you're going to order something or what?"

Chaddick cuts the stare contest between brown and blue and Agatha makes a note to leave him a nicer tip tonight.

"What's the special of the day?" Tedros' tone is amused, as if he and Chaddick are old friends. Ugh, of course he would. He sounded douchey enough. Maybe he went to school with her? That sounded about right, she could picture it. Pretty-boy-Tedros, walking down the hall wearing a football jacket with a cheerleader or two on his arm.

"Nice little things I've put together," Chaddick wiggled his eyebrows. "Want some?"

"Is it safe?" Tedros asks him, cautiously.

"Well, Agatha here is still fine at four, I would say so."

Soon enough Tedros is downing his second cup, sitting on the stool next to hers.

Agatha wasn't sure how or why, but things went from point A to point B very, very quickly.

Point A being sitting beside Tedros at the bar and point B being heavily making out with him in a corner.

Agatha wishes she was joking. She wasn't. It just…somehow…happened?

Fuck.

It all started when Tedros eventually caught up to her and from there on they held a little amicable drinking competition.

("I bet you can't do more shots than me." "Oh, you're so on!" "You drink like a fourteen-year old, dude." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah.")

Then, they paid for their drinks. Well, Tedros did.

("Did you just... pay for me?" "It's called having manners." "Excuse you?")

After that, Chaddick kicked them out to the dance floor, something about the two of them 'grossing him out'. Agatha is not much of a dancer, so she tried to go back her table but Tedros said something (she can't quite remember what it was) that made her realize that she kind of didn't want to. Leave, she means.

They danced for a bit before she stepped on Tedros's foot, or maybe he stepped on hers first?

("Ouch." "Get out of my way!" "Make me.")

From there on it was incomprehensible screaming over loud music for a while and they somehow ended up being way too up in each other's personal space. Agatha eventually just lost it, and grabbed him by his collar, bringing him down to place a forceful peck on his lips, before backing away, partly horrified, partly proud.

It took two mortifyingly long seconds of silence and pure embarrassment for Tedros to grab her by the waist and kiss her roughly.

They stumbled to a more secluded corner, until Agatha's back hit a wall, but she was distracted from the pain of the impact by Tedros licking her bottom lip, seeking her tongue, a small sound escaping her once he found it. What the hell is she even doing, this should not be happening. And yet, she cannot bring herself to care.

This is a wild, passionate kiss and not at all Agatha's expertise. She always considered herself more of a slow-vanilla-soft kind of girl. But out the window with that, Tedros was nowhere near close enough, no matter that they were already flush against each other. Maybe this is why Sophie thinks every guy she meets is her soulmate. As cheesy as it sounds, she feels somehow connected to this stranger, almost as if they were meant to be or something.

Ha, as if.

Any thoughts, of soulmates or otherwise, are forgotten when Tedros' hands start to wander, one goes from her waist to her hip and the other moves to explore her tight, squeezing it deliciously. Agatha retaliates by pulling on his hair, not as lightly as she probably should've, but is rewarded with a husky groan and a bite on her bottom lip.

(She does it again because that might be her new favorite sound.)

What. Is. Going. On.

Her last braincells are on fire. She was on fire.

Okay, young lady, de-attach yourself from the handsome male slo…

Oh God.

She's pretty much breathless when he decides to break the kiss, her lips chasing after his for the slightest second as he pulls away. Her heartbeat has never been this loud and she has no time to overthink, as, suddenly, his lips are on her neck. Agatha lets out a quiet, but embarrassingly needy, whine (as quietly as she could, but it didn't really matter, he heard her anyway) when he nips on her ear and then trails down to suck at her pulse point. Her hands snake their way from his hair to under his shirt's collar and Tedros shivers once she drags her short nails lightly on his upper back and shoulders, but she can still feel his very attractive smug smirk against her skin.

She felt drunk. She doesn't feel like that often.

Not the completely-trashed-I-just-had-countless-drinks kind of drunk and certainly not this don't-care-keep-going-my-blood-is-on-fire kind of drunk either. Like she wanted to keep touching Tedros for the rest of her life (the idea doesn't sound half bad), as fireworks danced around them and… God, if Sophie knows this guy how she could not marry him on the spot, because fuck…

He's leaving quite a few love bites along her collarbone, teasing, attempting (and succeeding) at drawing tiny sounds from her and Agatha can't take it anymore. She drags him back up to her mouth and somehow pulls him even closer. She did not like feeling weak, but to her surprise, Tedros seemed to possess the superpower of turning her completely boneless in the best kind of way.

Wait.

Agatha is making out with Tedros.

Tedros is making out with her.

Agatha's eyes open in late realization and the two of them stare at each other for a few seconds.

So, this happened, huh?

"I… hm… have to go. Out of here. Home. Alone. Yeah, that," Agatha makes way around paralyzed Tedros, whom looks very confused and disoriented. His lips are tainted with coral lipstick, he's panting for air, his bright eyes dark with desire, clothes looking disrelished, pants looking a bit too tight, and he just looks throughfully kissed.

No, Agatha does not feel even a little tiny bit of pride by seeing him look like that because of her, what are you talking about, not sexy, not sexy at all.

… Maybe he could come along?

No. No, no, no.

She doesn't run away from him exactly, but she sure as hell wasn't walking. As she passes Hester and Anadil, the two of them raise eyebrows judgingly, but Agatha does her best to school her expression into neutrality.

If she waited a bit longer, she might have heard Tedros saying:

"Until tomorrow then."

Agatha regrets every single life choice that led her to this point.

She's sitting on a ridiculously shaped chair at Sophie's apartment building's terrace, brooding silently in the corner, with a big headache, while eating some diet cake that tasted like foam, listening to violin versions of bad pop songs, probably dying of heatstroke, and if that doesn't kill her soon enough, can someone please end her misery…

Hester and Anadil are not here after all. Agatha doesn't blame them. It might be for the best, because Agatha doesn't need to deal with Hester's judgy eyebrows right now. Dot is down in Sophie's apartment, at the kitchen, most likely trying to steal some wine and she is pretty much the only person here Agatha can stand.

She partly wonders if Hort will show up but decides she does not care. She's running on aspirin, her head feels like it was smashed against a wall multiple times, and it's too hot here, okay?

It's a hot sunny day and the limited shade would not be enough to cool Agatha down even if she wasn't wearing a scarf. Agatha hates this scarf. It was another one of Sophie's gifts, and Agatha hates it because it's an evil scarf that pinches her every five seconds. However it's the lightest scarf she owns, and she can't it take off.

Otherwise, someone might notice the dark mark on her neck, which her shirt could not hide, as was the case for the other ones, lower, in her collarbones.

Tedros freaking marked her. The nerve.

She's not nearly as pissed as she should be, because honestly she's kinda into it.

Taking off the scarf would lead to too much teasing and questions, she had no turtlenecks available (damn you, past-Agatha, for not doing your laundry) and if only she had the skills to cover it up with makeup. Not only was the scarf evil by itself, it made it impossible for her to not think of yesterday, therefore, making her even more irritable.

She is not the kind of person who kisses people at the club. She sure as hell wouldn't bring a guy she's just met, at the club of all places, home. What if he'd been a psycho? She doesn't know him. He'd know where she lived. She wouldn't go to his place either, that sounded even more irresponsible. But she wishes she had at least gotten his number, you know, instead of freaking out and running away. Well, he knew Chaddick, so maybe she could ask him?

No, that would be humiliating, and Agatha is trying to hang on to whatever dignity she had left.

Also, it had been almost an hour at this damned terrace party and she hasn't seen a single trace of Sophie's fiancé, but the blonde assured her he would be there soon. He's the late-type, hm.

Okay, so Agatha hates him already.

She has been to this terrace quite a few times, it was the one pro of Sophie's building, aside from cheap rent. But she was running out of both will and things to point out in small talk with all these models and small influencers. If she hears "Sophie has such a lovely terrace" one more time…

Suddenly, there was clank, signaling that someone pushed the terrace door open. As Sophie lit up and moved to greet the newcomer, Agatha felt the cake climb up her throat.

Holy hell, is that Tedros?

What is her life, really.

Agatha gets up from her chair quietly, observing the scene from behind a plant, trying not to be too obvious, just, ya know, casually chilling in the middle of the scorching sun. Sophie hugs him tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek, grinning as she laces their fingers together and starts walking in Agatha's general direction, pulling the handsome man behind her.

Hm, no.

Agatha resists the urge to pace in circles as she tries to gather her thoughts. It might be the hangover or the diet cake but seeing the two of them together made her wanna barf. Not because they didn't look good together. They did. In fact, maybe too good. Sophie's long soft hair was a shade or two lighter than Tedros', but other than that, they might as well have been made in the same Instagram-model-facility. Like a set, Barbie and Ken.

What is this feeling?

Oh no, she can see them approaching. Abort mission, leave, get out, hit the road…

"Aggie, darling!"

Agatha forces herself to fake a confident smile, as if she could always be found casually hanging out behind plants on saturday mornings. It turned out to be more of sheepish grin, especially when compared to her friend, whose pretty smile is almost too big for her too pretty face.

Sophie looked particularly gorgeous in her pastel green summer dress and peep-toe heels. Her tanned skin glows under the sun, the light catching in her green eyes on that special way that made photographers all around the industry want to work with her despite her inexperience, the grace within her movements creating an allure Agatha doesn't think she'd be able to recreate even if she were to be born again.

This is not good. Leave, abort mission, repeat, abort miss…

"Aggie, this is Tedros, you know, the one I was telling you about yesterday," she winked. "Teddy, this is my bestie, Agatha, you remember her, right?" Sophie nudges him lightly using her elbow.

Tedros looks even better now that she can see him in natural daylight. Which should be illegal, truly. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, his hair made of pure gold looked just messy enough to not look too try-hard, yet something about him looked weirdly… staged? Agatha couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I surely do," Tedros lets go of Sophie's hand, shoulders tensing, and Agatha thinks he might be blushing. Is he nervous? "We-"

"Nice to meet you," Agatha interrupts him, grasping his hand on a firm handshake and letting go just as fast, as if touching his skin would burn her. "Sophie told me a lot about you."

Play along, please. I beg you.

"Oh, hm, it's very nice to meet you too?" Tedros responds, confused, but not calling her out. "Nice scarf," he adds, his lips curling upwards, so very slightly she might have missed if she wasn't micro-analyzing his every movement. Smug bastard. She is all too aware of his gaze lingering on her neck, a hint of pride showing in his bright eyes, the teasing in his voice making her want to pull him down by the collar, whether to choke him or to kiss him she couldn't tell.

"Oh, isn't it cute? See, Aggie, I told you that color looked great on you!" Sophie cuts in, reaching to touch said scarf. Agatha steps back self-consciously, making an effort to not scratch the back of her neck as not to call more attention to it.

"Quite the bold fashion statement for the summer, may I add," Tedros continues as he casually leaned one elbow on Sophie's shoulder. Subtle enough that Sophie wouldn't read too much into it, but Agatha could see right through his shit. "But I like it. You look very pretty, Agatha"

How dare he, truly. No sham-

Wait.

"So, I need to get going, work emergency you see, but I'll make it up to you, Sophie," Agatha excuses herself, quickly. She tells herself it's just the heat that it's bothering her, but her brain is going 300 miles per hours and she needs to leave. Now.

"Aggie, tomorrow we'll be having lunch at the country club, don't be late!"

"Yeah, be there, alright."

Agatha sprints down the complex's stairs as discreetly as she can, which is not much. By the time she's at her car, the weight of her realization hits her full force.

"I'm getting married, Aggie"

"Not Hort"

"You don't know him yet"

"Aggie, this is Tedros, you know, the one I was telling you about yesterday."

"That was literally three weeks ago."

"I dare you not to remember him. Pretty sure Sophie told you about how she met him again a few weeks ago at that event she went to? The one sponsored by Camelot International?"

"…Oh he's so great and wonderful, he's tall, has these hypnotizing eyes, they're so intense, its like they suck you in, Aggie! His hair is just wow, it's a very uncommon shade of blonde, the undertone is beautiful, so expensive-looking, but it's natural, he swears, and his skin is so soft you wouldn't believe, his name is…"

"bla, bla, bla, perfect, bla, bla, bla, handsome"

"He's so different from anyone I've ever met…"

"She feels somehow connected to this stranger, almost as if they were meant to be or something."

"Acting all smooth, as if she should know who he is!"

"He looked a bit offended."

"The name's Tedros?"

"God, if Sophie knows this guy how could she not marry him on the spot…"

"Sophie hugs him tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek, grinning as she laces their fingers together and starts walking, pulling the handsome man behind her."

Agatha is a very bad friend, isn't she?

She bangs her head on the wheel.

Then, she regrets doing so, opening the car's door, so she could vomit some diet cake and last night's alcohol on the parking lot's floor before driving away.

By a miracle, Agatha survives the drive home and makes it back home in one piece.

As she walks into her own apartment, she does not feel half as guilty as she thought she would be. But she was very, very angry. Furious, actually.

At herself for being both a dumbass and a bad friend, at Tedros for being a player, at Chaddick for being a dick in general, at Sophie for being Sophie, at Dot for not warning her and even at Hester for not being at the party today so Agatha could at least not freak out by herself.

She can't do anything for the rest of the day, because trying to work, read or sleep is useless, since she can't focus with all the internal screeching her mind is doing. Her existence now doesn't make any sense and Agatha is about to tear her hair out, lying down in her bed, staring at the celling.

(There's a long crack on there and for whatever reason, it reminded her of a river. Probably because it didn't look like anything else.)

She contemplates calling Hester and telling her everything but ultimately decides against it. She can't bring herself to explain this out loud, least of all hear any possible lecture Hester might give her. Is this how Sophie feels when she decides hide things from her-

Oh my God, Sophie.

Tedros was engaged. To Sophie. He was Sophie's fiancé.

Agatha is not freaking out at all.

At last, ten long hours of sulking later, Agatha is feeling a lot guiltier, still very much pissed and just confused as a whole.

She made out with Sophie's fiancé. Should she tell her? Yes. Would she? To be decided.

Maybe they wouldn't even get married. Come on, a few weeks? There's no way Sophie will keep up this insanity. Telling her about the club incident would only hurt their life-long friendship over a guy who wasn't even gonna last two months. Years of companionship out the window. She had no intention of doing it again so, did it really matter? What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right?

She hadn't even known he was Sophie's fiancé!

But then again, Sophie had told her all about him. She didn't listen because she was a bad friend! Was she really gonna play the "I didn't know" card...?

It was the truth!

But no one would believe her. Fuck, if Agatha were Sophie, she wouldn't believe herself. Agatha was a smart grown woman, godamn it. What kind of dumb bitch even-

This wedding wasn't happening. No need to worry, right?

For now, Agatha has two long weeks of supposedly weeding-related bonding moments with Sophie to survive, without accidentally letting slip that, oh, talked, drank, danced and made out with Tedros.

Well, shit.

Even if one ignored the fact that the guilt was starting to eat Agatha alive from inside out, the next day would still have been a long, tortured journey of nothing but cringe and regrets. Yet she bore it, because she, even if accidentally, brought this on herself.

Agatha got up early on a sunday (name a bigger crime) to try and get something done, since she would probably have little time to work in the following weeks. Then, she went to have lunch with Sophie at a fancy country club (that Sophie couldn't afford by the way, which earned her a lecture on credit cards and personal finances) hoping to have that "red-flag" talk.

It did not go well.

Sophie had invited him along. Of course, she would. Apparently, since she was getting married soon, Agatha should be used to have him around. And, of course, Sophie would have decided to tell her he was coming the moment he walked in, headed to their table.

This is Sophie's fiancé. Do. Not. Stare.

What kind of cosmic karma is this? He isn't even her type.

WHY-

"Afternoon, ladies."

Sophie greeted the blonde with a smile and a hug, as Agatha merely nodded his way, scanning the room for the closest exit.

"Hi Teddy!"

"Tedros."

Lunch is awkward as hell and at this point Agatha is just waiting for a waiter to come and stab her. It ends up being both not so terrible and the worst lunch ever because she does talk quite a lot with Tedros, against her better judgment.

She learns that Tedros did go to her school, for three years. Sophie asks him if he remembers Agatha, and from Tedros' silence, Agatha assumes he doesn't want to admit to having been part of Chaddick's... shenanigans.

Her friend then talks astrology, and Agatha learns that he is a leo (because of course he would), is kinda proud of it but says he doesn't believe in astrology, prompting Sophie to start a discussion on why he wouldn't believe in astrology if he believed in tarot. The way he blushes and stammers is cute and makes Agatha feel horrible for thinking so, but she asks him about tarot anyway. She's just being polite, okay?

He mentions he'd turned 26 a while ago and recently moved back to the city, as he moved away to go to college in Avalon. She tells him she almost went there, but her scholarship did not include a dormroom and she knew no one there to share an apartment with. His answer is a blunt "I know", which both confuses and pisses her off.

Tedros offers her no further info on it, but they engage in conversation again after he mentions he is working at Camelot International.

("As one of the main executives on the board," Sophie adds, "it's one of the most powerful companies in the country.")

They quickly bond over their massive workloads (Agatha may not be a main executive of a huge corporate empire, but damn if being head finance director for SGE Enterprises didn't keep her busy enough), until Sophie slips that he must be very lucky to be the sole heir to the Pendragon Group.

Oh.

Tedros Pendragon. Are you kidding? Agatha remembers seeing his family's name being all over the news back in school and she feels dumb for not remembering that Tedros and 'that Pendragon boy' were the same person. Hadn't his parents had a huge cheating-divorce-scandal that caused the stock for the company to plummet a few years ago?

Tedros frowns at Sophie before saying that, "Yes, indeed, he's very lucky."

The blonde doesn't seem to notice the way his hands grip the fork tightly as he pronounces the last word, but Agatha does.

It adds on to the list of things that keep her awake later, after she does her damn laundry and stress-cleans her entire apartment. She curses as she turns and tosses on her bed, because it's 2 AM, work starts in a few hours and she needs to sleep.

The next four days are not much different, the routine is pretty much the same, except they have dinner plans instead of lunch. Work, eat, work, do bridesmaid shit with Sophie and Tedros somewhere, avoid his gaze, talk for a bit over something like choosing the best flower arrangements, and then hightail out of there, only to come home and be restless.

She was still very confused, because honestly, Tedros didn't seem bad at all. The more she talked to him, the least she wanted to stop talking to him. He definitely had some family issues and was doing some overcompensating, but nothing that made him, like, a total trash human.

And yet, he was still the guy who hit on her (fucking made out with her), knowing exactly who she was, while being engaged to her best friend.

She always thought herself a good judge of character.

Anyway, she did her best to act aloofly polite and if he ever seemed to hint at the night at The Woods, Agatha cut him off before he could. It was a good plan. Wait it out. And it really was working just fine.

Until the dress store.

For some reason she cannot wrap her head around, Tedros is there too.

(Isn't there a tradition against seeing the dress of your bride before the wedding or something?)

At some point, Sophie struggles to get into a particularly complicated dress at the dressing room, yelling at the poor employees like a harpy on a rampage and Agatha is about to intervene when he manages to pull her aside, his grip firm but with a certain gentleness that made her skin burn.

He semi-drags her across the store through a sea of sparkly white dresses and into this small nook between sections. Agatha does not want to admit that the main reason why he is able to do that is because she allows him to.

Things only go downhill from there.

He has her cornered, her back nearly merging with the wall as he stands close to her, his posture tense, moving slowly, like one would in presence of a startled animal. He doesn't look like he is trying to purposely intimidate her, and she doesn't feel particularly unsafe. No words are spoken between them and the silence allows Agatha's senses to pick up on a deliciously rich smell. Is that Tedros' cologne-

Agatha forces down the rash that is creeping up her neck and tries to focus on doing what she does best, aka, running away from her problems. She looks anywhere but his face, but he is not making ignoring him an easy job.

"I don't get you."

What.

"Excuse me?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Agatha scoffs, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"I truly don't."

Her response seems to annoy him, which she counts as a win, but Agatha might have declared victory just a bit too soon. Tedros, who was a couple of feet away has managed to get way too close (yet again). His hand raises her chin and forces her to look into his eyes. Her resolution to run away falters and she's scared he might hear her heartbeat speed up.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Agatha. One second you don't like me, then you do like me, then you don't again… I don't understand the game you're playing here… So, I'll make this simple, you won, congratulations, now stop playing games, now you know I'm interested."

Agatha blinks. This is… not the conversation she thought she was going to have.

Of course, during her nightly overthinking sessions she thought about what she'd say if he confronted her about the previous friday, even if she didn't think he'd have the balls to actually do it. But she seems to have been reduced to this dumpster fire nonsense. Tedros never did what she thought he was going to do and it was short-circuiting her braincells.

She's way too aware of the hold he has on her, the compromising situation they're in. One of his hands cages Agatha in, placed on the wall behind her head, while the other keeps her from adverting her gaze from his. Tedros is too close, he smells too good and his mouth looks too inviting.

She hears him, but she doesn't really hear him, his presence fogging up her senses.

Agatha briefly entertains the idea of giving into temptation and kissing him. How nice it would be to grab his collar, invert their positions, slam him against the wall and kiss him senseless, so he could feel just how helpless she felt having him corner her like this. Kiss him and just leave him there, wanting, begging, and…

What. Wow, fuck. Stop.

A new thought hits her like a ton bricks.

This guy is an asshole.

Tedros looks irritated and Agatha wants to punch him.

So she does.

She's strong enough to give him a black eye, but she (unintentionally, Agatha swears) holds backs and aims for his chest. However, she can tell it hurt a lot by the way his eyes water and he backs away several steps. She hears Sophie yelling their names across the store and giving Tedros one last glare, she turns around and walks away.

The nerve.

Why would anyone marry him?

Sophie needed a wakeup call. And fast. Because while Sophie could be a nightmare, she did not deserve to be played like that.

Agatha was not a superstitious person.

If she forgot her umbrella at home and it started raining when she left the dress shop (Tedros and Sophie both offered her a ride but she would rather choke, honestly, and said no, forgetting that she rode here with Sophie in the first place), it's not fate, it's bad luck. If she gets sick and loses her voice (and therefore can't go do neither her work or her bridesmaid duty), it's not conspiracy, it's simply a coincidence.

Well, call it fate, call it bad luck, call it conspiracy, call it coincidence. The case is that Agatha has lost her voice and has both a running nose and a fever. She considers texting the whole story to Sophie but changes her mind when she imagines the blonde woman's reaction.

Agatha, you're such a slut.

She is going to tell Sophie about this… this… this individual. Yeah, she was going to come clean and expose Tedros. No wedding.

Why was Tedros marrying Sophie anyway? She could understand why Sophie would go for Tedros. He did seem like her type. Young, rich, successful and handsome.

(Not really what she herself looked for. Agatha tended to go for witty, responsible people and who did not mind her blunt nature. Never in the history of ever, had Sophie and Agatha been interested on the same person.)

Anyway, he would give her lots of exposure, would look great on her Instagram feed, would be able to save her from her terrible apartment, student loan and infinite credit card debt, and would open up the world of fancy designer shoes and pretty gowns Sophie always dreamed of.

But why would he do that?

Tedros was, again, young, rich, successful and handsome. He hardly expressed any special affection towards Sophie or had the usual lovesick look most of Sophie's victims sported when they found themselves bewitched by her. They didn't really agree on much, from what Agatha gathered on their conversations, had no shared interests, lived completely different lifestyles, had different moral values and overall didn't seem to have the grandiose connection Sophie spoke of at all. Maybe he was with her because she was pretty? But again, why. There werw thousands of pretty girls willing to date young rich men, why Sophie in particular?

Something about this seemed off. She needs to talk to Sophie.

…When she recovered.

Alright, maybe it was conspiracy. The wedding was in two days.

Two days.

She supposes time does go by quickly when you're procrastinating something you really, really don't want to do. Nearly two weeks gone by in a flash. And, as she should, Agatha finally gets herself together. She is going to tell Sophie.

Well, she was going to tell Sophie. The blonde and a few of her friends were at The Woods for a last girl's night out. Meaning:

Sophie was currently drunk.

But maybe she wasn't?

She probably was though. Sophie was the most lightweight person Agatha knew, likely because she was so skinny. Girl could not hold her alcohol and drunk-Sophie was messy-Sophie. Unwilling, untamable and unimaginably difficult to have a coherent conversation with.

But, maybe she wasn't drunk? Agatha was not going to risk it.

She forces herself to hurry. She doesn't change out of her work outfit (merely discarding the suit's jacket), stopping by her house to feed Reaper and leave some important documents. Agatha even nearly forgets to lock her front door, calling a car to the club, hoping it might not be too late to come clean. But she was late anyway, as proven not only by the 15 bucks that left her wallet (for the second time this month) but by-

"Aggieeeee! You're better! Have you taaaasted this? It's amaziiiing!"

Agatha glares at Chaddick, who has the decency to look away. He knew the amount of alcohol Sophie was capable of processing, namely: none.

"Yeah, I have…"

"You should have seen, Sophie; the other night Agatha was so wasted she ma…"

"Chaddick, don't you have somewhere to be? As in, not here?"

The ex-jock walks away with a smirk, knowing he had some nice blackmailing material on her. Could this get any more horrible?

Now what? Should she just take Sophie home? Sober her up, tell her everything then beg for forgiveness? She couldn't. Then what to do, what to do…

"Sophie, I have to tell you something, it's really important, you see…"

"Oh Aggie, I'm sure you can tell me laaaaaatteerrrr! I've been so stressed lately! Time to let it goooo! Come on, I'll even pay your first drinkkkk!"

Her friend lifted a glass of what looked and smelled like a vodka and gin disaster waiting to happen.

"Sophie, what is even that?"

"Not sure…but Chaddick told me it was good."

Agatha sighs. She should tell the truth, right here, right now, shouldn't she?

"… Alright."

And she would have if she were a better person. But to her shame, she downs five more after the first and suddenly she can't remember why she came here on the first place. Something about a guy?

(Lies, Agatha knows exactly what she is doing, but for a few more hours she gives herself the benefit of the doubt.)

Whatever, she'll just deal with it later. She hasn't said anything for the past few days, surely it can wait some more, right?

Said and done, five hours later Agatha concludes she is a horrible human being. She should just quit. Leave the job of human being for people who will not mess up. Like Hester. Hester never messes up shit. Yeah, great plan.

Sophie is knocked out cold, sleeping with her face in a table, drooling, besides said Hester, who has her usual judgy face on, glaring at the blonde woman, like she was some kind of disgusting creature.

Agatha doesn't think she could feel worse.

She should have just told Sophie the truth right away. The moment she found out Tedros was, well, Tedros. Instead she had gone along with a wedding that was sure to be a fiasco, because not only was the groom a liar and a player, but Agatha was therefore his accomplice, and her silence was probably the greatest betrayal of their entire friendship.

She picks up her phone to call a car, so she could at the very least wallow in misery at home, but before the app even loads someone snatches her phone.

Turns out she can indeed feel worse.

"We need to talk."

His voice sounds as it always does whenever she's around, half-annoyed and half-something else Agatha doesn't dare name. As usual, he looks nice. His tight shirt and tie are still in perfect place, unlike the last time she saw him here, signaling he too probably came straight from work.

"This is girl's night; you're not allowed here."

"Oh, I'm not?" Tedros mocks her, but she can tell his heart isn't truly in it. "Then please do tell me the circumstances in which I can talk to you, because you sure don't make it easy."

She is so tired. Trying to avoid him is hard enough, trying to avoid him knowing that she doesn't really want to is impossible. She has always read people so well, and he always seems so genuine. It makes her wanna believe he is not the bad person she knows he is.

"…I've been… avoiding you. It's not that I don't want to talk to you. Is just… that I shouldn't," she hesitates but ends up answering honestly.

Tedros' expression softens at her candor, peering at her with concern.

"Are you drunk?"

"No. Maybe."

He sighs, then digs his car keys from his pocket, still holding her phone hostage on his other hand.

"Look, I'll give you a ride home. I really just wanna talk. We have…unfinished business."

Agatha considers. All this wedding-baloney made her poor, Tedros is so pretty, he looks so wholesome and honest, and she just wants to sulk at home for the next few hours. Maybe he could stay for a day or two. That shirt of his would look great on her floor…

No, bad idea.

"I don't wanna get into a stranger's car," she blurts out the first excuse her mind can manage. In retrospect, that was some obvious bullshit, seeing as they had talked for hours last week and he had already given her a ride before. Granted, it had been Sophie's car and Sophie had been there, but still, that didn't make much sense.

"Oh truly?" he holds up her phone, the ride app now open, "You're gonna pull that one on me?"

It's Agatha's turn to sigh.

"Okay don't go using logic on me, mister. For all I know, you could be planning on kidnapping me and selling my organs on the black market," or worse, actually talking to her.

"Can never be too careful, can we?" he looks partly amused and partly annoyed. "Look, I'm serious here, okay? I'm not going to do anything to you, we can talk to Hester on our way out, I'm sure she'll hunt me and string me up upside down at her soundproofed basement in case I even dream of harming you. Alright?" Tedros's eyes never leave her face in the twenty seconds she takes to decide, and it's really distracting, but she manages to answer:

"Okay, fine."

They talk to Hester, rather, Tedros talks to Hester while Agatha avoids her gaze shamefully. Why does Tedros know Hester? Did they ever talk during school?

Agatha doesn't know and she doesn't ask. Her gaze lingers on Sophie's drooling face and she feels her chest tighten.

The two of them walk into the parking lot awkwardly, in mortifying silence, and enter a silver Porsche. Agatha notes that it looks very out of place, since most cars belonged to employees and looked rather humble next to the silver beauty. Why was Tedros here? He came in his car, so he was not here to drink. Did Sophie tell him to pick her up? Or was he here to see Agatha?

Her heart skips at beat at the thought and she doesn't ask him any of this either.

"Nice ride," she offers instead.

"Thanks."

Tedros drives in silence, with Agatha occasionally telling him to turn on certain streets. She keeps her gaze on the empty roads, but she does catch quite a stunning sight of his profile when she forgets she's not supposed to look at him at all.

To avoid getting too in her head, she decides to turn on the radio. The song that starts playing is familiar and she guesses the radio must be on CD mode. The letters in bold red on the visor tell her she is correct, and this is indeed the song she thinks it is.

"You're into this kind of stuff?"

Tedros grips the wheel, almost defensively.

"They're really good, okay? I've been listening to them for a few years and so far, they're my favorite band. I know their sound isn't for everyone and-"

"I know."

"…It's not what most mainstream artists are doi- you what?"

Agatha blushes when she feels his incredulous gaze on her face, and it occurs her that this is the first time he looks directly at her since they got into his car. She hopes he'll attribute the redness on her cheeks to the red light they're currently stuck at and hesitates before answering, in a quiet voice, meeting his stare:

"They're my favorite band too."

"Oh."

The rest of the drive is less awkward, one would even say comfortable if not for the leftover tension. They sing along quietly to the vocalist and Agatha is sure Tedros stopped himself from doing the guitar once. Not cute, not cute, not cute.

Eventually, they get to her apartment building. She reaches over and turns off the radio, the deafening silence almost too much to bear.

Agatha tries reaching for the car door, but it's locked.

"I did tell you we needed to talk."

Usually, she'd be scared if a guy trapped her in his car in the middle of the night, but Agatha's frustration just comes back at full force and topples over anything else.

"What's to talk, you're clearly into someone else."

Tedros' eyes go big, and Agatha can't help but think he must be the world's greatest actor. Oscar nomination performance. The academy is shook-

"What? Did you, like, not hear anything I sa-"

"I'm not that kind of girl, Tedros," Agatha interrupts him firmly, "I don't hook up with anyone who's in a relationship, especially in a relationship with my best friend, no matter how stupidly short said relationship may be."

"I… Did Sophie tell you-"

"She didn't need to? You guys are engaged, and I am not going to get caught in between, okay? Please, please leave me alone. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't give me rides when I'm drunk."

Suddenly, Tedros' confused expression is gone and his eyes are gleaming with what looks like joy. He looks like he might kiss her and Agatha is not sure how well her defenses will hold in case he does.

"Agatha, I think you got this all wrong, I'm not-"

"What, you have amnesia? Or, let me guess, it's your twin brother who's engaged to her?"

Tedros burst out laughing and he sounds like an angel, throwing his head back, and Agatha forgets for a second that she's mad at him. But eventually reality brings her back and she pushes him, with just enough force to get his attention.

"Leave me the fuck alone, dude."

…Asshole.

This time when she reaches for the door, it's unlocked.

She glares at him from the sidewalk one more time, before entering the building.

Agatha doesn't hear a word from him after that.

It's for the best, she tells herself. Agatha spent so much time wishing he would just go away and take these weird feelings he gives her with him that she didn't even consider that once he did go away for real, new, stronger, and even more angsty feelings would appear. She only knew him for two weeks. He wasn't even hers. She has no grieving rights.

She goes out with Sophie one more time, and now it's just the two of them. It would be the perfect time to tell her. She has no excuses. No drinking, no sickness, no Tedros-

Agatha doesn't.

Today is the day.

It's a clear summer night, which is unfair with how angsty and conflicted Agatha feels. Hollywood lied to us all, hasn't it?

Agatha is dressed in a silky blue dress Sophie chose for her. It suits her and she thinks she looks quite pretty. Someone who actually knew what they were doing did her make-up, and for once she managed to tame her hair into submission, putting it into a fancy-looking up-do youtube taught her how to do. She's wearing her best shoes and her fanciest earrings. Agatha is looking and smelling like a daydream outside the main room of the church, but her hands are shaking and she's terrified.

She's not ready. Far from it really.

The rules were simple. If you're not the bride you don't wear white, you don't overdrink, and you never, ever, under any circumstances, fall in love with the groom.

No matter if they were hot, if they smelled good, if their eyes made you feel weak at the knees, if they shared common interests with you, if their taste was impossible to forget, if they went out of their way to get your attention or if they felt like they just might be the one.

You just didn't okay?

Shit, this was messed up. Still, Agatha brought herself to breathe deeply, trying to contain her anxiety.

The ceremonialist tells her it's her cue and she's soon walking down the aisle, clutching a small bouquet of pink carnations like a lifeline, looking around the church.

The place is crowded. Their entire social circle and their grandmother seem to be here. People from their childhood neighborhood, people from school, both of Sophie's parents, her stepmother and step siblings, quite a few models and influencers and a bunch of people she had never seen, probably Tedros' friends, family and co-workers.

The flowers and decorations look as amazing and beautiful as she would have expected from Sophie and she might have seen Hester, Anadil and Dot on a row somewhere, but that's not what made her almost freeze, nearly stumbling on the red carpet.

The groom.

He's wearing an expensive-looking white tuxedo, his hair is an unnatural platinum blonde and his eyes are disturbingly intense. He's tall, sharp and everything about him screams fancy. He's attractive in the way some snakes are attractive, beautiful and deadly, but the big deal is:

Agatha has never seen that man in her entire life.

She goes to her spot standing by the side, her brain running a marathon, tons of data just being tossed aimlessly on her mind as she tries to wrap her head around what the actual fuck is going on when her eyes meet someone else's.

Seating on the third row on the left, Tedros' blue eyes are shinning in complete and absolute amusement, his hand is over his mouth in a barely controlled laugh. The music seems to be on his side, because no one hears him. Agatha schools her expression into anything other than the overbearing wrath she feels, but she's not sure if she's doing a good job.

She's somewhat aware of the chaos that seems to be unfolding around her; the ceremonialist's screeching, the groom's rage, the crowd's confused mumbling and Sophie's absence. But it does not matter.

Agatha really wants to choke Tedros with his tie.

Turns out, Sophie's groom was named Rafal. Not that Agatha would remember his name a few days from now.

He is the current CEO of Two Brothers, a huge company, often associated with the mafia for fucks sake. Known playboy and womanizer, with a criminal record for drug dealing, as well as physical and sexual assault. Also, partially involved on the illegal leaks of information that caused the media scandal around Tedros' parents' divorce all those years ago, she later learns.

Great guy, Sophie. 10/10. Husband material right there.

At least she didn't follow through, Agatha argues to try and calm herself down. Oh yeah, Sophie ran away from her own wedding. No one was surprised honestly. Maybe Rafal. He looked very, very angry. Agatha didn't really blame him, after knowing that he was the one paying for the wedding, after party and honeymoon, no matter how horrible of a person he seems to be.

By now, Sophie should be in Paris, enjoying her honeymoon tickets and reservations. Through text, she tells Agatha how lonely and sad she is and how she'll tell her everything that happened in complete details on their next café meeting in a about month and a half. Agatha suspects she is not as lonely as she claims to be because Hort's Instagram stories tell her he is currently in Europe as well, if not in Paris. But then again, she will not concern herself over this matter. "No wedding" was good news enough to keep her in a great mood for any of Sophie's shenanigans for the next following weeks.

And since the reception was already paid for, everyone just decided to come enjoy it.

Yes, when she says everyone, she means everyone.

"Hey, you."

Oh, Lord, no.

Agatha doesn't lift her head to look at him, continuing to type a half-assed reply to Sophie's whiny texts. She won't give him the satisfaction. Instead she downs whatever is left of her whisky, because that's what one does when courage lacks.

She's sitting at the main table of the ballroom, by herself, mostly because it's where she's been assigned to sit, but also because she's not up for the questions the other guests will probably feel entitled to ask if she were to sit with them. Hester is nowhere in sight, but Agatha is sure she's making herself scarce on purpose. She saw Chaddick back at the church but they politely ignored each other and Dot had been missing for quite a while.

"Not speaking to me?"

"No."

"Come on, it was pretty funny."

"No, it wasn't," she finally looks up at him and he must have sensed true resentment in her perfectly lined brown eyes, because his smug, perfect façade crumbled, and he looked very awkward suddenly. Tedros pulls up the chair beside her and she notices it has his name on it. Sophie was not being subtle on her matchmaking at all, was she?

God, Agatha was so dumb.

"Well, it wasn't very funny to me either then, but I do laugh quite a bit now," he offers, sipping on champagne, trying to keep busy.

"I'm glad my pain amuses you," she's quiet for few seconds, considering what she's going to say. "Tedros?"

"Yeah?" he looks up from his flute of champagne, hopeful blue eyes shining in the half light of the candlelit ballroom and keeping her from saying what she was actually going to say, so instead she blurts:

"I'm not sorry for punching you."

"I didn't expect you to be," his smile is friendly and contagious. He downs the last of his champagne and extends a hand to her. "Okay, let's start again. I'm Tedros, I'm so single it hurts, and when we were in high school, I had a crush on you."

The way he says this so openly, his voice so even and clear nearly drowns out the vulnerable look on his face. Agatha herself can barely register his expression because she's pretty sure her brain has short-circuited. Again.

"No, you did not."

"But I did."

Tedros proceeds to tell her all sorts of things.

He tells her about how he first saw her as a rival because of her grades (she never really paid any attention to the scoreboard, she thought it was bullshit, but in retrospect she does remembers his name was always under hers), and about how sorry he was that he laughed and partook at Chaddick's antics during junior year, mostly because he the felt like 'the new guy with a big name and no friends' and felt she was a threat.

"That's some real introspection and self-awareness right there, hm"

"I'm just fortunate enough to have had a really good therapist," Tedros responds, "Merlin is like a psychology-wizard. He was the one who kinda sorted out that maybe part of my teen angst was repressed attraction to someone who fed the cats behind the library"

"Oh, then you've been my stalker for quite some time then."

Tedros blushes and Agatha is both flattered and embarrassed at the same time.

He then explains about how shit blew up on his face during his parents' divorce, how his grades dropped, how he got kicked out of the football team and how he started to spend a long ass time sulking at the library. Which just so happened to be Agatha's favorite hangout spot at the time. Tedros tells her how he thought she was cute, how she was one of the people who hadn't changed with him (even if unintentionally) and how he wanted to get to know her.

What.

"I just… wasn't sure how to approach you? I always dragged Chaddick to your tea shop when I didn't see you at the library but then chickened out and-"

"...I take neither of you were huge tea fans?"

"Yeah?"

"That does explain a lot," Agatha mumbles.

"I was going to talk to you about Avalon when I heard you were going there, but… Since you didn't tell me that, I kinda found out when Chaddick took your math notebook to be my 'wingman', I didn't think you would have…appreciated.

"Wait, that was Chaddick playing your wingman?" Agatha burst out laughing.

"The plan was that I was supposed to casually hand back to you something you forgot, but he kinda grew tired of waiting for you to actually forget something," Tedros chuckled. "If you thought Chaddick was bad then what big word is Miss-best-in-class going to use to describe Sophie's take on playing wingwoman?"

"Horrendous," Agatha deadpans and now it's Tedros turn to laugh.

Silence sits between the two. It's not uncomfortable and kinda welcome. Agatha digests the last forty minutes of enlighting conversation as they eat the main course of the night. A waiter comes to pick up both of their plates and she decides she still has some questions.

"Well, do you still do?"

"Do I still what?" Tedros questions, his head slightly inclined, like a confused puppy.

"Have a crush on me," Agatha mumbles, her cheeks burning.

Tedros' expression goes from 'confused' back to that mischievous look he had back at the church, leaning towards her ever so slightly.

"Maybe."

"Good," she offers her hand, as he had before, "I'm Agatha, I jump to conclusions, but I am very interested in getting to know you."

Tedros however, doesn't shake her hand as she had his. Instead, he takes it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles, relishing in the shocked look on her face before she can school her expression back to unaffected aloofness.

"Are you free at six next friday?"

"Late meeting, but I'm good at seven. Pick me up?" she asks, an unspoken challenge laced in her words.

"As the lady wishes." Challenge accepted. "Any preferences?"

"Anywhere but 'The Woods'. But make sure to text me first if it's somewhere fancy," she smiles. "You know what? I still don't have your number."

Tedros confidently stands up, his hand yet to release hers.

"A number for a dance?"

Agatha told him that night at 'The Woods' that she isn't a very good dancer but again, he insists. It's fine, because they don't dance for long anyway. By the time Tedros gives up, fumbling with his phone to call a car, his hair is already a mess, Agatha's broke free from her up-do and there is lipstick everywhere.

I'm not sorry This was so much fun to revisit. I forgot how fun SGE was. I kinda fell out of touch with the series. I did read QFG, I just can't remember what happens in it? Idk. I felt the series should have concluded on TLEA. If possible before the whole Agatha and Sophie baloney stunt, because I never bought that. Please leave me comment and share your thoughts with me! Hope you are all safe during this quarantine, friends

#Tagatha #tagathashipweek2016 #rewrite #agatha sge #Agatha of Woods Beyond #tedros sge #tedros of camelot #sophie sge #sge #The School for Good and Evil

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xsecretblastsx · 4 years

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1x17 - Woman on the Verge

wanted to do this one like two weeks ago, but alas it wasn’t possible. Just one more episode to go and season one will be done.. and I’m going to miss it.

As usual recap’s under the break

Thoughts I had while watching:

Georgina is obssesed, she also looks fabolous.

I know is his brand of humour but still Dan cames across as really obnoxious, almost mocking his dad excitment about his performance for Rolling Stone. And I did watched VH1 clasics.

Rufus actually pointing out the fact that Serena probably lies to him because she’s afraid of what he will think because he’s really good at being judgy, and yet Dan doesn’t get it.

For real Dan’s like “so I should learn to be someone else around her so she can be herself around me” and I want to pull my hair out

It still surprises that Nate and Vanessa doesn’t bother me at all.

“Are you drunk dialing again?” the show always robbed us of the best stuff. What I wouldn’t give to see those calls. Just imagine it, drunk Blair, amused Chuck, priceless.

Most akward elevator ride ever. Well Chuck at least tried to be cordial, too bad Nate ignored him.

Dan is Serena’s number one on speed dial, no surprises there I guess.s

This such a glimpse of the old days, this was a routine they knew well and one can tell, the three of them helping a drunk Serena. And Chuck being pervy as usual.

I always forget Lily was into photography back in the day.

Dan asking if Nate, Chuck and Blair don’t hate each other, and Nate and Blair are like yes, and Chuck’s like no, never fails to crack me up.

Also I love how Chuck and Blair’s are so matchy here. They look good.

He has reason to be pissed I get it, yet Dan asking Serena for the truth as if he were the spanish inquisition is not the way to go.

“I had three perfect weddings, I want this one to be more perfect than perfect” I love Lily.

THe love Dorota has for these kids, never fails to warm my heart.

Blair and Nate pointing out how they’re not perfect and then Chuck is like “i’m Chuck Bass” like that’s the only explanation needed it, is probably my fave time in the series of him dropping that line.

“We’re the non judginb breakfast club” have I’ve mentioned how much I loved this scene? It’s I think the first time show explicitly let’s us know that the four of them were best friends before everything got messed up between them.

So Georgina was Chuck’s first, and I’ve always get the feeling there was some interesting history there, she going psycho on him, and him avoiding her ever since? Makes me wonder.

The Shepperd’s wedding ended up being more life changing for these kids than the bride and groom.

Serena left the wedding wearing Nate’s shirt, how did Nate explained that? Where was Blair?

The whole story of Serena, Pete and Georgina that night is awful, poor Serena keeping that secret for more than a year, it’s also really sad.

Lily’s words to Serena, are such a shame, sure she doesn’t know the facts and she’s worried about her wild daughter, but the fact is it only reinforces Serena’s belief that those that love her can’t see past her mistakes.

Seeing Lisa Loeb at Rufus concerct here it’s so weird.

Blair’s love for Serena, and viceversa is one of the best aspects of this show, and I just love how she went to Lily and set things right.

Nate taking the subway and calling Blair to give intel so she can scheme, it’s a brand new world for him.

Chuck’s always so gentlemanly with Lily, and I love it.

And Chuck and Blair are back for a scheme. Such a short bit, but is one of my faves of them because their faces are priceless, and it’s so them.

Ah Vanessa, always messing up stuff even when she doesn’t meant to. Thanks for letting Georgina know that the gig is up.

She may mess up constantly, but when she admits she is wrong and is actually there for her kids, Lily’s the best.

The whole Georgina and Dan thing is so ugh to me. This whole plot is so messed up knowing the ending of this show.

I wish we had a glimpse of that limo ride between Nate, Chuck and Blair, with them trying so hard to ingore each other. Akward much.

Pretty much the way Chuck and Blair awkardly stand next to each other the minute Nate leaves with Vanessa.

“I’m a big Leaky Hawk fan” nice try Blair.

Is there somewhere a full recording of the song Rufus is singing?

For once Georgina is right, Dan ain’t that good, and it’s time Serena realizes that.

I miss when one could take the battery out of the phone. I didn’t remember Georgina did that to Dan’s phone though.

This episode deserves a spot in the hall of fame of Gossip Girl episodes if only for the fact that is the episode that gave us The Non judging breakfast club. This is an episode that let’s us know a lot about the past, we finally know Serena’s secret and in learning that truth we also learn about the bond between Serena and her friends, particularly Blair and also how her mother can actually do help her and make her feel better. There’s a lot of love in this episode and it’s something I didn’t particularly noticed the first time around. The scene where Blair speaks up and defends Serena against Lily and she actually listens and helps her daughter is one of those moments that really makes this show more layered. Blair is also so sweet and loving with Serena this episode, their friendship is the heart and soul of this show, and it was nice when the show focus on that rather on creating never ending conflict between them.

The tale of what happened that night between Serena, Georgina and Pete seemed so much sadder to me this time around, because when one stops to think about it Serena is barely sixteen, and yet she’s already so caught up in a wolrd of sex, alcohol and drugs, and she was about to get a sex tape done about her without her knowledge, that’s really messed up, and she cames to this clusterfuck filled with guilt, we know by now the kind of friendship Serena and Blair have, about Blair’s insecurities and Serena’s not blind to this, she knows that what she just did with Nate is posibly the worst thing she could have done to Blair, it’s something that can be erased and it’s going to be more than likely the end of their friendship, it’s a nightmare, and then something even worse happens. It’s so much for a 16 year old, no wonder she runs away, and like Lily said it had a deep impact on her, and one of the reasons why she changes for the better. It was plain and simple the worst night of her life, and she’s deeply ashamed of it, and as such is hard for her to be honest about it, and it scares her to think what everyone would think of her.

Is the promise that no matter what they will support her that finally gets Serena to tell the truth to Nate, Chuck and Blair and when she does they are so suportive of her, no hesitation, Chuck’s already been helping her with Georgina, and Nate is someone who would always be there for her, and Blair, they’re sisters, and she proves to her what she said last episode, she won’t let go. These are the people that really love her, that know her better than anyone, and it’s such a contrast to Dan’s attitude.

Earlier today I got some asks about Dan and how he idealised Serena, she herself this episode said he puts her on a pedestal, and it got me thinking... on earlier recaps I’ve mentioned how the relationship started cracking when her past caught up with her, but there’s no way Dan by being Gossip Girl didn’t know about her wild past, he creates the site because he wants to find an in with her... but at that point she’s nothing remotely like the Serena he actually ends up dating, so why did he wanted to date her? If he hated that world, if she partied, lied, did drugs and was very unlikely to want anything serious? So what did he want? The only possible answer to me is that he went into this with his hero complex front and center, he wanted to date her to save her, to get her to be different, his perfect girl, the good Serena, the one that only came to be when she dated him.

I’ve been complaining about the show pointing out how good Dan was for Serena, that since he came into the picture she was differente, and how Dan bought into that, how he believe it and why he kept judging her when she didn’t comply to his way of seeing thigns, that he got pissed because in his mind he was like: realy hadn’t she heard everyone said he was good for her, so she should listen to his judgment, don’t prove him wrong in believing in her, but I was seeing as Dan gaining that belief because of the way things had developed between then and people, even Lily pointing it out, and now I kind of think he always thought it, even before he knew her, that she need him, and right now it’s making Serena’s comment of him having her in a pedestal not so good, because he has her in a pedestal not because he believes in her, but rather because he sees it as being all because of him, is almost a pedestal to his own ego. Maybe I’m seeing way into it, but the Georgina and Dan storyline makes me think all sort of crazy stuff.

I know the show didn’t knew Dan was Gossip Girl here, and people complain about this storyline the most in pointing out how that twist doesn’t make sense, but to me it sort of does, I can see it happening, is just that it makes Dan a 100 times creepier, because both him and Georgina are pretending, and this episode when he kiss her, it gaves way to different kind of arguments like maybe he kiss her because he wanted to hurt Serena, because he felt she deserved it, and he could do it because in the end it would never came across as the ugly action it was but rather as him being deceived by an evil manipulative mastermind and by the fact that Serena had led him to believe he cheated on him first. One can come up with many reasons to explain Dan’s actions, if one accepts the fact that he’s as manipulative and evil as Georgina since the start. The only difference between Dan in S1 and the one in later seasons is that he just felt he didn’t need it to hide anymore, and even then it was everyone else fault, they drove him to that point.

It also makes more sense why he was so mad about Serena hiding stuff from him, because he already knew, and in his mind maybe he believe he could be magnanimus about it, to be like, see I still love you, of course like Rufus pointed it out, he never gave Serena a reason to believe he would actually understand her. Nest episode is the last one, and I’m really excited.

Random bits I’ve noticed:

That robe Serena’s wearing, if I’m not mistaken Chuck wears it too on a later season. I love consistency.

And talking about consistency, when Lily is going through her contacts list, not sure about calling Bart, the contact at the top of the list is someone called Amelia. Most likely the same Amelia that makes an appearance next episode.

#gossip girl #gossip girl recap #gossip girl rewatch #1x17 #woman on the verge

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ducktracy · 4 years

Text

165. porky’s building (1937)

release date: june 19th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: frank tashlin

starring: mel blanc (porky), billy bletcher (dirty digg), berneice hansell (rabbit), tedd pierce (sandy c. ment, dog)

alas, the photo limit prevents me from placing this in here, but the cartoon opens with a highly amusing disclaimer:

any similarity of characters or happenings in this picture to actual people or events is definitely intended................. if you think we're going to sit around for days thinking up new ideas - you're pixilated!

somewhat of a strange anomaly is mel blanc voicing fat porky. this is the first frank tashlin cartoon since porky’s romance, the last cartoon to feature porky’s original voice actor, joe dougherty. fat porky wouldn’t survive past 1937—frank tashlin was the sole person who kept him going, after tashlin’s porky’s double trouble he got a diet. this is more of a personal anecdote than a concrete observation, i always found this so-called “transitional period” amusing. nevertheless—it’s up to porky you beat his rival, dirty digg, to see who can build the best town hall the fastest.

frank tashlin, ever the cinematographer, introduces the cartoon with a silhouette behind a closed door, the door identifying the silhouette as sandy c. ment, city building commissioner. tedd pierce provides the voice for sandy, discussing the plans for the new city hall about to be built. we see porky and a particularly grizzly brute as the gentlemen sandy is referring to, the only two contractors in the city. they’re both tasked with building the city hall--whoever can come up with the cheapest bid wins. i believe it’s norm mccabe who does some particularly funny animation of porky waving to his rival, only to receive a steely glare in return, much to the rejection of porky. i’m certain frank tashlin’s feelings towards porky were projected into that glare.

sandy displays the city hall plans, revealing a poster of an art deco feat of modern architecture. tashlin’s cartoons in the 30′s are particularly rife with the streamlined, art deco feel, supported by his tendency to use jazzy underscores as we see here as well. more norm mccabe(?) animation as porky and his rival get the papers they need to sort out the bids. lovely animation as any sense of camaraderie between the two is gone in a snap, both nose to nose (or nose to snout?) as they stalk over to their desks to crunch the numbers, not once breaking physical contact or eye contact until absolutely necessary. mel blanc and billy bletcher’s voices collide as the two crunch the numbers aloud, the billy bletcher brute deliberately copying porky’s numbers. the two finish, the staring contest resumes, and they do the same furious tango back to sandy.

as fate has it, the two reach a tie with their bids at $3,000,000.02 each, with a hilarious detail of dirty diggs’ paper including scribbles of a stickman and a self serving game of tic tac toe, indicating just how dedicated he is to his craft. the tie stumps sandy on how to determine who gets to build the city hall, until he reaches a conclusion—both get to build the city hall. whoever finishes first, wins. a lack of sound effects hides the detail, but there’s some rather amusing animation as sandy jabs a finger in porky’s face and honks dirty digg’s nose daffy duck style.

transition to the two now at their respective construction sites, waiting to take off like runners in a race, accompanied by a crowd no less. sandy fires a starting pistol, and the two take off to build. digg hops into his backhoe, clearing the land for his building. can’t go wrong with the backhoe scooping up a giant boulder and crunching it up with an anthropomorphic mouth, spitting the chunks into a cart. porky’s dinky little contraption is just as whimsical, with a mechanical boot slamming itself against an actual shovel suspended by a pulley to clear the way. frank tashlin does a wonderful job juxtaposing the personalities, through mannerisms and extraneous details such as their equipment.

the rubbery animation associated with digg is only furthered as he struggles to pull his backhoe out of the deep hole he dug for himself--we see that the street lamps in the city are caught in the machine, bobbing up and down in their respective “posts”. finally, digg prevails, pulling out a tangled mess of rubbery street lamps. points for creativity.

elsewhere, the cartoon takes a rather morbid yet wonderfully hilarious turn: a dog construction worker loads crates of dynamites into a hole, chuffing halfheartedly on a pipe as he waddles back to the dynamite lever, hands in pockets, marching along to a whimsical rendition of “boulevardier from the bronx”. rolling up his sleeves, he prepares to pull the lever, when a crowd of spectators approach, leaning in as the dog prepares to fire. the dog opens one eye and grunts “step back folks, ya bother me,” VERY well timed to a nice little oboe underscore with each syllable. the crowd gives him his space... until the dog prepares to fire again. another “step back folks, ya bother me.” they oblige, until they don’t. the charade continues, until finally the dog waddles back to the hole where the crates are stashed, rendition of “boulevardier from the bronx” and all. the dog pokes an eye open as the lemmings inevitably wander to the hole of dynamite (a fitting underscore of “let’s put our heads together” to boot.) the dog squeezes his way through the crowd, heads to the lever... and BOOM! cold blooded murder dismissed with a mere dusting off of the hands. a WONDERFUL gag timed succinctly and purposefully prolonged--the same dog would reappear a year later in porky the fireman, another tashlin piece, doing the same prolonged waddle and same accompaniment of boulevardier from the bronx.

a collection of some whimsical animal gags, gags that feel like something out of a harman and ising cartoon, albeit more polished. two beavers load cement and sand into a cocktail shaker strapped to the side of a camel, a pelican dumping water from its beak into the makeshift cocktail. the camel shakes the shaker, all of the animals swaying along. perhaps slightly outdated, yet still fun nonetheless. turtles flip their shells open (wheels attached to the top--or in this case, bottom--of the shells) and tow away the mixture created by the animals. meanwhile, a dog carrying a load of cement, the hod carrier, marches up a support beams thanks to suction cups tied on his shoes, complete with some jaunty music and animation. dirty digg lives up to his namesake by playing dirty, hurling a brick at the dog. the dog falls, his suction cups continuing to ascend up the scaffolding, underscore and all.

we meet camera shy porky for the first time in a few minutes, a reflection of frank tashlin’s distaste and uncertainty regarding the character, who encourages his team to “get in there and fight!” they’re all lined up along a bench, a sign above labeling them as “HOD CARRIER SUBSTITUTES”. thus sparks the running gag of the cartoon: as the substitutes dash off do to their duty for porky, a diminutive rabbit (voiced by berneice hansell, of course) zooms up to porky, donning a sweater that reads “HOD CARRIER” as she squeaks “how ‘bout me, porky?” porky isn’t at all convinced by her diminutive stature, snapping “no!”

on porky’s team, a few pelicans pull the appropriate levers to mix water, cement, and sand in their bills, flying off and twirling their heads and bills around to create the mixture. one pelican successfully discards his load down a long chute to the construction site. the next, however, isn’t so lucky. ever the conniving weasel (or dog), digg attaches a dead fish to a balloon for the oncoming pelican to feast on. the pelican, eager for the snack, spits out its mixture in favor of the fish, the mixture pouring from the sky and landing right on porky. none too deterred, porky encourages his cement mixer substitutes, a line of pelicans, to, once again, get out there and fight. as they fly off, the eager rabbit from before, now donning a sweater labeling her as a cement mixer, squeaks “how ‘bout me, porky?” the same routine as porky once more yells “no!”

digg’s construction site is going swimmingly, as to be expected. a wonderful slanted layout as we spot the builders hard at work. despite the success of the building, digg barks “okay boys, c’mon down. i don’t need you anymore.” digg marches into his office, a makeshift shack on the site, and we’re left to ponder what it is he’s scheming as a rolling pan of the exterior shields us from digg's view, the billy bletcher laugh the only thing cluing us in to nefarious acts. tashlin loved to do the concealing pans, and they work out well in his favor, adding a sense of suspense and anticipation. out on the other side comes digg in a fancy new machine--DIRTY DIGG’S BRICK BRICK LAYING MACHINE.

porky, who’s dutifully laying his bricks the old fashioned way, spots digg’s new trick, and is hardly pleased. mel’s stuttering is particularly heavy, still attempting to emulate joe dougherty as porky complains “say! you can’t do that!” digg takes no offense. “well, i’m doing it, ain’t it?” settings on digg’s machine include start, full speed, super speed, super colossal speed, gosh darn fast, and reverse. digg pulls the lever to start, increasing the speeds as bricks inevitably hurtle out of the chute and land right into place on the site of his building. wonderful (and tedious!) complex animation as the bricks pile on, one after the other, even porky taking a moment to admire the handiwork. tashlin’s cartoons always seem to entail bits of animation that seem so tedious and complex to animate, such as a whole mess of train cars zigzagging on train tracks in porky’s railroad, or the interminable pile of luggage carried by daffy in porky pig’s feat. tashlin’s eye for detail is keen.

a score board gloatingly displays digg’s lead over porky: digg has 22 stories, porky 2. as porky mourns his loss (”woe is me... woe is me!”) no matter--the eager beaver bunny from before is there to cheer him up, donning a “brick layer” sweater with the same “how ‘bout me, porky?” porky declines. a quick zoom in and out, and the rabbit asks the same question, now donning a “colossal brick layer” sweater. porky once more declines. with the third and final “super colossal brick layer”, porky finally yells “no!”, to which the rabbit sulks off. thankfully, porky has a change of heart. “ok-ok-o-oka-ok-ok-oka--alright, eh-geh-geh-go in there and eh-feh-fi-feh-fight!” little rabbit is ecstatic.

the power of popeye compels the rabbit as she flexes her muscles, even flexing her ears to make a pair of makeshift muscles. one ear scoops the mortar, the other tosses a brick on top, and we very quickly realize she is MORE than capable for the job, laying bricks three times as fast as digg’s machine. the scoreboard hurries to adjust porky’s “score”, both of them now tied at 77 stories each. even better is the little “whew!” the rabbit sighs after pausing to rest, a lovely bit of comedic timing both underscoring and highlighting her work.

now, digg rushes to beat porky’s building, realizing he has a worthy competitor on his hands. the two are neck and neck... until the poor mechanical design of digg’s brick layer lands him in hot water. he mistakes the reverse setting for the highest speed setting, and with a hearty kick to the lever, the lever breaks and is now stuck in reverse. mel blanc seems to provide digg’s exclamation of “gosh! it’s stuck in reverse!” instead of bletcher. just as quickly as he had laid the bricks, the bricks of digg’s building come hurtling back into the machine, the machine swelling bigger and bigger as it threatens to burst from the congestion. digg’s entire building is now without a brick, and to make matters worse (or better), the machine finally explodes.

porky’s dinky little backhoe from before comes to life, digging a plot of land the perfect size for digg to fit in. digg flops to the ground from the impact of the explosion, receiving a swift kick to the ass with the machine’s shoe and a konk on the head via shovel for good measure.

elsewhere, porky triumphs, his city hall now complete. the cartoon’s motif of “fifty-second street” triumphantly underscores porky’s victory as he shakes his fist in the glory, perched on top of his architectural feat as his adoring fans shout from below. suddenly, we’re visited by a familiar friend: the little rabbit from before zips to porky’s side. “how ‘bout me, porky?” instead of shooing her away, porky is more than happy to lift her up and have her pose on his outstretched hand. a wholesome iris out as the little rabbit clasps her ears together like fists, reveling in the glory.

truthfully, this is probably the one porky cartoon i forget about the most. not that it’s bad by any means, but out of his hearty filmography of 153 cartoons, this one isn’t the most notable. with that said, this is a fine cartoon. the animation is certainly the highlight: whether it’s porky and dirty digg doing their furious nose-to-snout tango, the dog lumbering around the site of the dynamite hole, the animals mixing cement together, or the entire brick laying montage, there is a lot to admire, the climax of the cartoon especially. the “how ‘bout me, porky?” gag is especially amusing, albeit taxing (as it was intended to be), and the dynamite gag with the dog is wonderfully morbid. porky still has a very transparent personality, yet mel’s deliveries are fun to listen to, especially at this stage when he’s still figuring out the speech patterns. the cartoon’s music score is absolutely WONDERFUL, very jazzy, very upbeat, a fitting score to match the streamlined look of the cartoon.

while this isn’t my go-to recommendation for porky cartoons, it makes for an amusing watch. i wouldn’t urge you to drop everything and see it, and if you don’t watch it you’ll be just as well off, but this is a fine cartoon with a lot to admire.

link!

#lt #porky’s building #looney tunes #reviews #tashlin #long post

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happyvoidharmony · 4 years

Text

Just a look.1

rating : M pairing : Miraxus (Mirajane/Laxus) found : fanfiction.net

Chapter : 1/7 (proof-read by @aconstellationofmemories)

Unfortunately for her, defeat was not something he was used to. If she wanted to play that game, then he would play with her and only God knew who had the most experience in this area.

Chapter 1

The mage turned the page wearily. It had been several hours since her magazine stopped provoking the slightest interest in her without her knowing what else to do. She was sprawled on her couch with a warm blanket, a mug of steaming hot tea in hand and the unappealing magazine on her lap. It was one of the few days when she was released from her role as a barmaid, cook, waitress and manager of the guild so that she could take a break and get some rest.

Only this rest was unnecessary for her. She had never had any trouble fulfilling her duty because of fatigue since a good night's sleep was enough to her to be able to do the same the next day. But when prompted by all the members to have a few days off each month, she could not refuse. Despite everything, she appreciated these moments disconnected from the rest of the world taking care of herself or hanging out in her shared apartment with her brothers and sisters. At least, it was enjoyable in the beginning.

It had been a long time since the article in women's magazines had stopped entertaining her. Her eyes glided over the pages of glossy colored paper without finding a single catch. The printed words had lost the appeal that once captured her interest. Sometimes her name appeared, sometimes along with one or two photos of her posing. She admired the beautiful stranger who smiled magnificently at her with all her white teeth.

She had stopped modelling months ago out of a need to distance herself from that life. The editors of the magazine had recycled her old photos. They turned up everywhere, in magazines, fashion catalogs… It was not disturbing for her, for she was neither complexed nor followed by a horde of paparazzi ready to damn their souls to know her favorite tea brand. But this majestic smile that lit up the population like a sun was seeming more and more terribly artificial to her.

She had stopped modelling suddenly to avoid becoming superficial. So that this row of carefully brushed and aligned teeth always and forever remains sincere. She had offered it to the whole world and to strangers whose silhouette she didn't even know just as much as she did to her guild, her friends, and her family. She had given it so often that no one saw her without it. This comforting row of immaculate soldiers which she ended up freezing on her angelic face.

Now all her time was entirely dedicated to the guild. Her adorable younger sister wanted to offer her the freedom of any source of stress imaginable during the holidays, thus Lisanna had taken over her barmaid duties. She was so successful that the eldest Strauss had to crack her head in order to invent new occupations to kill the boredom. She had read, hummed the tunes she knew by heart, strummed the strings of guitar to accompany them, took extra care of her skin that didn't really need it, and stared at the ceiling to witness the agony dreaming of tomorrow. Of her comforting routine that would resume.

Suddenly, she heard the doorknob turn and a cold breeze drifted in from the entrance, making her shiver. A white head quickly slipped through the opening and closed the door behind her. The young Strauss took off her surprisingly thick coat for this mid-autumn season and headed to the living room where her eldest sister was waiting for her.

"Hey Mira-nee," she called out, taking off her boots. "How was your day ?"

"Restful." She replied with a peaceful smile fixed on the lips.

"I'm exhausted." The youngest sighed. "The boys were very excited today. I thought they were going to start the third great war."

Her sister chuckled.

"Were they so terrible?" She asked tenderly.

"You can't even imagine! Natsu and Gray were so unbearable that they didn't even wait until Erza's back was turned to start insulting each other again, and I'm not even talking about Gajeel…" the youngest said, sprawled in the armchair in front of the sofa.

"Poor Erza, she must be tired of always doing the police." Mirajane's breath puffed out.

"Not so much, if you ask me. She does it so well that I sometimes believe she trains at night."

The two young women were taken by a laugh at the idea of Erza in pajamas, standing on her bed, studiously repeating with her most theatrical air the lines intended to calm her friends.

"She really doesn't need it.", replied the eldest between two hiccups of laughter.

Lisanna straightened up and took a deep breath to calm her heartbeat. She looked at her elder sister with a smile as she tried to calm down from her laughter. Her gaze was attracted by the mass of colors that she held in her left hand. A Sorcerer's magazine that must have dated from last week. And she thought her sister now found these readings boring and terribly superficial. Perhaps she was bored enough to find them amusing.

"What did you do today ?" She asked, not looking away from the magazine.

"Oh, three times nothing," the other replied. Then she noticed her sister's gaze and abruptly closed it before placing the magazine on the coffee table. "I didn't want to go out so I just stayed home."

"I see…" The youngest Take Over mage exhaled, looking down. "you never want to go out ?"

The woman was surprised at this question and turned her head thoughtfully.

"Sometimes. I like going to the park and well someone has to do the shopping." She said, laughing.

The youngest smiled and tried again to express her thoughts.

"I mean… you don't want to go out ?" To meet people other than the guild members or even just go out with Cana or Kinana to do something else ?" Lisanna questioned.

The demon mage opened her mouth to answer but no answer crossed her mind. She looked at her younger sister without knowing how to answer her. However, her ideas did not mix or contradict each other. The only answer that came to her mind was so obvious and simple that she never bothered to even think about it. No. She had no desire to go to a bar for a drink and to meet new people – not in the slightest. She was already contented with her calm life and her comforting routine.

"No," she finally replied. "Not really." She paused, then stammered out her explanation, which was so obvious to her. "I don't really see the point."

Her younger sister smiled gently at this answer. She was sort of expecting it. Her elder sister was not one to consciously deny herself pleasures for others, even after her personnality change. When you paid attention to her behavior, you could see that her main character traits had remained intact. Her desire to protect others, her energy, which she now spent behind the bar and in the service to the guild, her pride that was well recognized during her fight against Jenny at the Great Magic Games – they were all unchanged from the old Mirajane. The only thing that had changed was the way she expressed them.

You couldn't really say the same about her tastes.

"You used to like this before. Going out, going to concerts… "

The young woman sighed at the insistence of her sister.

"You don't go out any more than I do even if you're quite old enough now, you know," she replied with a slight smile.

The woman blushed at this remark, clasping in her hands the tea she had poured from the teapot her sister prepared earlier. Another trait that had persisted in her. Her ability to divert the conversation when it bothered her.

"It was never my thing," she thought it good to attest.

"It is no longer mine," her elder sister gently and firmly closed the conversation.

Lisanna glanced at her – she was enjoying her tea quietly, closing her eyes. There hadn't been an ounce of wickedness in her response. Just a deep desire to close the subject. Nor had she seemed to be lying to avoid it. She was even deeply sincere and honest with her younger sister.

Lisanna took a sip of her tea. The silence that had taken hold disturbed her a little. Usually, she enjoyed these peaceful moments with her eldest, welcome after spending the day in the midst of the guild's incessant hubbub. But at this time, she felt uncomfortable. As if this silence had settled at the wrong time.

"Elf-nii-chan is coming back from his job tomorrow, right ?" She ended up asking.

She obviously knew the answer. She just wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible and break that awkward silence. The eldest Strauss nodded as her smile widened. She was grateful to her younger sister for not insisting ; she didn't want to create any friction between them. She couldn't stand the idea of disappointing her or having to impose silence on her.

"and it's only eight o'clock, so we still have time to watch a movie without being too tired for work tomorrow !" She said cheerfully, winking at her younger sister.

The sun struggled to rise on this autumn day filled with fresh air. Shivering from the cold, the demon mage wrapped her coat around herself. She enjoyed the mornings when the city woke up little by little, starting with the bakers whose smell of hot bread and pastries already perfumed the shops. The young woman always ordered an astronomical quantity to feed the mad rabbits of the guild.

The inn provided the restaurant function for the mages but also for the non-mages who wished to benefit from the warm environment. It was one of the main sources of income for the guild and the barmaid. Like a true cook, she filled the stocks, cooked, ran the bar and served customers, accompanied by her younger sister, Kinana and a few extra wandering hands.

The master had entrusted her with the entire management of the restaurant except for the accounting part which he kept. So she got into the habit of doing some shopping in the morning to get fresh produces and ordered the most from a supplier she was used to now.

With her shopping bags in hand, she went to the second large building that overlooked the city after Kardia Cathedral, turned her old key in the lock and pushed open the huge wooden door. The atmosphere was so different at this hour. The shutters were closed and the vastness of the empty room gave it a somewhat disturbing and religious aspect, like a church waiting for its faithful ones. She put her purchases in the kitchen then went to the windows to let the soft light of day invade this much too quiet space for her taste.

She settled behind her counter and began to prepare the first drinks which would soon be ordered. In just an hour, excitement and provocation would reign supreme.

She remembered the evening before. After a meal closer to a picnic, she and her younger sister had watched a cheesy romantic comedy. Two hours during which a handsome young man, rich, charming and slightly macho, finally discovered the meaning and love of his life after meeting a beautiful young woman, vainly presented as banal, who opened his eyes to the world thanks to her kindness, her gentleness and her determination to make the world a better place.

The young woman gave a small laugh at the memory of the final act when the hero finally declared his love in a quavering voice but just as inflamed while his future fiancée – because he was proposing to her – listened with teary eyes before accepting – not without a terribly fake sob – the fabulous ring – surely plastic – that he was offering to her.

Admittedly Mirajane was a big romantic. She dreamed of a happy ending with a loving man who would kiss her like it was the last time throughout her life. She liked to look at the couples in the guild – already decided in her mind – and imagine the life they would surely have in a few years, without however clearly imagining her own possible future.

She did not see herself with anyone and did not feel the need to live a passionate love with any lover. She dreamed of course, but these dreams had never taken on concrete dimensions. They remained as a fantasy out of reach, while all tried without success to make her understand that it would only take a few efforts to make them real. She knew that life was not a romantic comedy that two sisters watched in the evening to relax between two giggles.

Never had she really hoped for passionate declarations of love. If given the choice, she would choose a love as simple and pure as a snowball, although part of herself would yell at her that it would be far too boring for her to thrive there. Perhaps it was a sign that she hadn't changed so much from the adventurous teenager as she had been in the end.

In any event, she had no serious candidates for the position of great love and was not really looking for one. Perhaps it was the parade of heavier contenders who tirelessly presented themselves to her every day pretending to buy a drink. This day would be no exception.

It did not miss. When the frenzy had followed the disturbing calm that reigned a few hours earlier, the barmaid - constantly on the move - slid from one table to another with her high heels and relentlessly distributing orders. She offered her biggest smile to each face she crossed and gently rejected the many advances that many made to her.

Advances, she had heard it was normal for a young barmaid or waitress to be hit on and stopped by consumers. It was commonly accepted by all. Of course, it always bothered her when a man whose face she saw for the first time came to offer her a drink after closing, or when Macau and Wacaba kept reminding her that she just had to blink to have a date.

Although the latter stituation had become more of a recurring joke than a real invitation. It was, but without the hope of a positive response.

The door opened slowly as four mages appeared on the doorstep. A brunette with wavy hair and rectangular glasses, a man wearing a large knight's helmet, another smaller with long and green hair and the last, a tall, muscular man with blond hair. The latter went upstairs and collapsed on one of the sofas.

The barmaid brought the blond-hair man his usual beer and went downstairs to resume her activities. He followed her with his golden eyes and detailed her as usual. His bangs took in her bangs restrained on her head, her warm blue eyes, curly lengths at the end of her white tresses. They continued to roam over her fluttering black dress which hid her generous chest, her slim waist, her hips, her long tapered legs.

She was beautiful, maybe even more than beautiful. She served her customers while singing in the middle of the guild. The noise did not bother her – on the contrary, the noisier it got the louder she sang. Surely convinced that no one could hear her behind the yells of her friends. It was wrong – he heard her very well.

Her black dress twirled around her fair legs as they danced between the tables. Her arms, constantly in action, kept moving from the two trays to the top of the tables. One would have thought it was a dance from India, one of those where the entities were provided with a multitude of arms.

Her snow-white hair waved around her angelic face. She put each foot in front of the other, swaying slightly subtly so that only people looking at her for a long time could see it. He noticed it. Even though she knew he stubbornly stared at her to decipher her gestures, she didn't throw him a glance.

It had become a game between them, to communicate without words, without ulterior motives. He watched her from his pedestal without anyone paying attention to him. Several pairs of eyes were focused on her as she moved in the center of the huge scene that was the guild. She responded with her brightest smile but did not hesitate to discreetly caricature her gestures in order to make fun of the attention that was offered to her.

No one paid attention to him. He was sitting on one of the few sofas on the first floor where no one ever went. He liked to retire there to take a break, find some relaxing solitude and be able to watch the other mages as he pleased from a higher level. Especially the demon mage. He didn't have the same hopes as her suitors, but to see her making fun of their behavior was somewhat distracting.

We also had to admit that she was far from being unpleasant to look at.

She had turned her eyes to him only once today. she had served him his drink and he had glanced at her with a suggestive look. Nothing serious, just to annoy her. Because seeing her cheeks flush under his gaze was just as much fun as enjoying a little of her false prudishness that she tried to pretend was real.

But her reaction was different from what he expected. Instead of being embarrassed that he stared at her like that, she had stared back at him and smiled. Not a fake smile, but a playful and amused grin. She straightened casually and turned slowly to continue her activities.

She knew he was trying to play with her. After all, he had been doing this for a few weeks, and it had to be said that being able to have fun with his own behavior and that of others was refreshing. She also knew that none of these so-called silent advances were serious. He just wanted to push her to the edge as he always had.

She has reached her limits – she was finally tired of seeing him play with her daily. The young woman didn't like allowing people to laugh at her embarrassment. After some time looking for the solution to tell him about it, she concluded that he wouldn't stop, especially if he realized that it was actually working.

So the mage decided to act the opposite of what he expected while knowing that he would not stop his actions immediately. She had to get into his game if she wanted to get him out, but the consequences of such an act were still unknown. Was he going to be surprised ? Amused ? Satisfied ? How could she even have a clue ?

From that moment, she began to move differently, softer and more fluid. She took her time and danced between the tables. She looked and offered her brightest smile to everyone except him. She was completely ignoring him.

A strange ballet that intrigued him a lot, as if her angelic side had escaped her and her demonic side suddenly revealed to him. He was never going to see her again, this sweet Mirajane who smiled benevolently at him. Instead he would see something else that only he could see, a more evil and seductive side of her. He could say that the old Mira had returned but that was not entirely true. The old Mira would never seduce him like that.

But it didn't bother him – on the contrary, it greatly amused him. A new challenge that she launched to him, a secret game, beyond the eyes of others. How to win ? He had absolutely no idea and he knew she didn't either. He just didn't know something : just exactly how far she was ready to let this thing go and what she wanted out of it. Until then they had only jokingly played with each other, but this game was much more complex.

He went downstairs sighing. He wanted to think about it in a more private place. He headed for the door but something warm touched him in the opposite direction. He turned and his gaze fell on her cyan eyes, her irises shining with mischief and amusement. Her demon smile was teasing him on her angelic face. He raised his eyebrows and continued his way out.

The young man understood she just wanted to take him by surprise and make him fall into his own trap. Unfortunately for her, defeat was not something he was used to. If she wanted to play that game, then he would play with her and only God knew who had the most experience in this area.

#fairy tail #Laxus Dreyar #Mirajane Strauss #miraxus #laxus x mirajane #lemon

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minlucent · 5 years

Text

block party (m) ⎪ 02

➾ pairing: reader x jeon jungkook

➾ word count: 4.5k

➾ genre: fuck boy next door au, enemies to lovers au, smut, pwp but what’s new tbh lol

➾ warnings: explicit sex, dirty talk, dom!jungkook, degradation, fingering, humiliation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, thigh riding, panty sniffing, choking, breathplay, teasing, edging, im probably missing a lot more bc uh it’s really dirty

➾ summary: one mistake turns into two.

➾ a/n: SIKE! aye so i lied, block party isn’t on hiatus! btw sorry for not posting for months oops // happy valentines day bitches. heres my gift to you

➾ series:⎪01⎪02⎪

You still didn’t have a bed, so you had set up a cozy little blanket fort as a makeshift one for the past several days. However, often you found yourself not able to sleep at night due to the disgusting noises next door. Coincidentally, your bedroom was separated by only a thin wall from Jungkook’s room, and with no soundproofing, you had to hear many girls obnoxiously wail next door. Every. Fucking. Night.

Oddly enough, he himself wasn’t as loud in bed as he had been with you; there was no dirty talk, no grunting, no deep groans. All you could hear was whoever his date was for the night moan at incredible decibels. You had expected him to use the same lines he used on me with all of his girl toys.

Yes, all. It seems as though every night is a new girl. A faceless stampede of women go in and out of your apartment complex and you have to see their faces every morning when you head out to a class. You weren’t disgusted at the girls, in fact, you applauded them for being able to get a good fuck in the middle of the school week; as a woman supporting women, you felt no need to compete with them.

Rather, you were revolted by Jungkook, as he treated each and every one of them as a toy that he plays with: it was a game to him get them in bed then never see her again. You weren’t sure if the women expected more than a one night stand, but it just bothered you that Jungkook didn’t even treat them like people; he was the opposite of a gentleman. A “rough man.” Or a “rude man.” Just an overall jerk.

You knew that if you had to hear one more night of him fucking the brains out of a girl, you would pull out all of your hair. So, you decided to go out. Even though you didn’t know the girl who was hosting that well, you still decided to go to her party because her group of friends overlaps with yours. You didn’t really know the dress code for the club you were going to but you didn’t care; you put on a simple, pretty black dress, which was short but long enough to leave some to the imagination, high black pumps and some pretty red lingerie. To top of the sultry look you were going for, you painted on a deep, blood red liquid lip. As you looked in your bathroom mirror, blotting your lips with a tissue, you decide to make things a little risky tonight just for giggles.

After all, you were sure that you wouldn’t offend her because she probably didn’t expect you to be by her side the whole night; you two barely knew each other, and honestly, as grown a woman, you were sure she’d be happy for you to get some. She was a sweet girl. So, to spice up the night, you decided to forego the bra; even though you probably should’ve worn one, you thought you looked a hell of a lot hotter without one.

When you walked in, the first person you saw was an old classmate of yours, but you decided not to interrupt his conversation and instead made a beeline towards the bar. You were sipping on a cocktail, staring the back of his head down, waiting for him to turn around because damn, he was looking so fucking gorgeous. You decided that if he didn’t turn around in a minute, you were marching over there and flirting your ass off because you were tired of being abstinent while hearing Jungkook get it every night. There was no way you were going to place yourself below Jungkook, both figuratively and literally.

You didn’t realize how on edge you were because you finished your drink before you knew it. Just as you were about to order another one, the bartender placed the same drink in a new cup right next to you. “The man over there paid for this drink,” he nodded towards a booth where you squinted to make out the face of the generous creep.

Are you fucking serious? That “creep” was manspreading in a booth, two girls on either arm, sending a quick wink at you as you made eye contact with him. Fucking Jungkook. What a motherfucking pig. That fucker–

You were about to explode and say “fuck” a million more times and walk over there to tell him to leave you alone, but a tap on your shoulder stopped you. “Y/N?” You spun around, meeting the face of the man you were infatuated with just seconds ago.

“Taehyung! I was just about to walk over to talk to you!” you admitted.

“You should’ve come over earlier, I saw you when you walked in and, fuck… you are quite something,” he bit his lip as he looked at you up and down. Usually, you would be creeped out if someone said that, but coming from Taehyung, you blushed to the shade of your lipstick.

You guys hit it off immediately. You were laughing it up with him, retelling your favorite memories from classes you shared together; you were pretty close to him before summer, but you just hadn’t seen him since. You felt a pair of eyes on the back of your head, and you turned around, making eye contact with Jungkook. You could practically see the anger rolling off of him. He thought you were deliberately trying to make him jealous, but in reality, you were just horny for Taehyung. Who wouldn’t be?

Taehyung’s voice broke you out of your daze. “Really? I can’t believe we live in the same apartment complex. What a coincidence.”

“Oh yeah, haha, I know, I guess a bunch of broke college kids want to live there because it’s so affordable.” Your conversation was put to a halt when Taehyung excused himself to go to the restroom. You were alone for a moment until you saw Jungkook step up from his seat.

You laughed out loud when he stormed towards you, his jaw clenched in anger. He immediately snapped, hissing, “What do you think you’re laughing about?”

“I’m glad you finally left those poor girls alone,” you gave him a nice smile before spinning your stool away from him.

You almost got whiplash by how fast Jungkook spun you back around to face him. “Nah, I think they enjoyed my company. You should’ve seen how they kept sitting on my lap and shoving their tits in my face. It was amazing.” He leaned in, his hands on either side of your legs, trapping you in your seat.

“Sure sounds like it,” you try not to seem affected from his close proximity by grabbing your drink from the counter and taking a sip from it.

Suddenly, his anger is gone, and instead, he smirks down at you in amusement. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

“Seriously? Jealousy?” you laugh, “I have nothing to be jealous of.”

“Hm, if you say so,” his smile is mischievous as he grins at you, letting go of his grasp on your seat and standing back up. “So you don’t get jealous?”

“I’m not a fucking child, Jungkook.”

“So, you’re saying that you won’t mind if I go back to fuck to those girls?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I couldn’t care less.” With that, he just winked at you and made his way back to the crowd of women.

You watched as he got comfortable in the group, and almost immediately, a girl’s arm was around his neck. All of the women were over him, touching him, laughing with him. You felt nauseous at how he didn’t even give a shit at them; he was just putting on this show for you while they actually thought that he was interested in them.

Jungkook must have felt you staring at him, as he glanced at you with a smug smile and a cocked brow. You didn’t break eye contact; there was no way you were going to let him think that he had won. He winked at you, staring directly into your eyes as his hand slid down to the ass of a girl on his arm and give her a firm squeeze.

You shook your head and faced the other way, waiting patiently for Taehyung to return. You didn’t want to see Jungkook’s face for the rest of the night. Who does he think he is? Does he really think touching other women will get me to like him? Jesus, why were you thinking about that asshole when you were talking to a handsome man with an amazing personality, a man that isn’t a complete dick?

Taehyung was a nice guy. You could tell he wanted you physically, but he was a proper gentleman, so when he offered to walk you to your apartment, you graciously let him. After all, he lived in the same building as you, so you couldn’t feel bad about it. Although you were planning on getting laid tonight, you weren’t disappointed in the way the night ended with him. You got to know him a lot better as a person, and honestly, you would rather wait to fuck him to get more satisfaction out of it. Also, he was just nice to hang around with; sure, fucking him would be a plus, but it was no longer the main thing on your mind.

You giggled, a little tipsy, as you walked to your door with him. “I can’t believe you live on the same fucking floor too! What a small world.”

He chuckled as he backed you against your door. He thought you were absolutely adorable. “Luckily for you, you’ll be able to see me a lot from now on… ” Taehyung licked his lips, leaned down with his hands planted on your waist. You closed your eyes were waiting to feel his lips on yours, but you jumped when you heard a door slam open.

“YN! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Jungkook suddenly appeared in the hallway, pulling out from underneath Taehyung's height.

“Jungkook? You know Y/N?” Taehyung was surprised, but he didn’t seem to be too taken aback by the younger boy’s actions. “Are you guys…” he gestured between the two of you, “together?” You realized how bad it looked, with Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“No! Not at all! We’re just neighbors!” you burst out anxiously, wanting to not let Jungkook scare him away. You fought out of his tight grasp and hurried back to Taehyung’s side.

“No, no, I get it. You guys seem like you need to work out some shit. I’ll see you later Y/N. And Jungkook, it was nice seeing you, man!” you stood there with your jaw dropped as Taehyung retreated down the hallway calmly; all of that hard work tonight was ruined by a certain prick who lived next door. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? In all honesty, you weren’t surprised that Taehyung backed off that easily; they were obviously friends and there was probably some bro-code thing going on.

You turned around to face Jungkook, fuming, “Thanks for the cockblock, asshole!” You weren’t planning on fucking Tae tonight, but you were worried that Jungkook messed up your plans with him in the future.

You try to shove him back, but his hands wrap around your wrists to stop you. “You’re one to talk! None of those girls would fuck me after seeing me with you!”

“That’s rich,” you called him out on his lie, “All of them were all over you. They probably didn’t even think twice about me. It’s not my fault that you want to fuck me so bad that you ditched all of them! Did you actually just leave the club and race to get here just because you saw me leave with Taehyung?”

“You think Tae cares about you? He’s just like me, we grew up together! He’s gonna fuck you and forget about you.” he raised his voice at you as he takes a step towards you, avoiding your question, but you got your answer anyway.

You stood firm, “You know, you’re not making a very good case yourself. What the fuck do you want from me? Am I not allowed to make my own decisions? Who says that I want Taehyung for anything more than a fuck?”

He growls as he runs a hand through his hair. “You know what I want from you. And I know you know. So why are you acting like a little bitch? I saw the way you looked at me tonight; you want the same fucking thing I do, but I’m just trying to figure out why you won’t admit it.” He stared you down with furrowed brows, sneering, “Actually, I think I may have an idea. Was I too rough with you before? Could your little pussy not handle my fat cock? Is that why you’re afraid to fuck me now?” He now had the same cocky smile he had at the club, but this time he was bitter. You felt repulsed, and as much as you hate to admit it, a little excited at the same time. Why does a cocky personallity turn you on so much? Why are you already weak at the knees from his dirty words?

You flare your nostrils, fuming at his insult. “Trust me, your little dick is far from being the biggest thing that’s been in my vagina. Have you ever thought that maybe your dick wasn’t enough to make up for your shitty personality? That you weren’t able to satisfy me, so I just never came back for more?”

You saw his expression falter for a second. You wouldn’t let yourself feel bad for hurting his feelings because you were sure he would get over it. Anyone with that fragile of an ego needs to be put in their place. He put his tongue in his cheek and sighed, “You know, I didn’t want to embarrass you like this, but I think I’m gonna have to.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. “Tell me that you don’t want me. Tell me to stop. If you don’t, I promise I won’t hurt your pride and talk about how right I was.”

You stood there in his arms for a moment, trying to resist his touch, but you knew you would give in. And so did he.

You felt your legs hit the edge of his mattress and he is all over you, running his hands up and down your smooth thighs before pressing his lips to your throat. You feel his hand slowly moving over your dress to grope at your chest before reaching your throat. He taps his fingers against your pulse, clicking his tongue lightly.

“You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you? Are you going to let me have my way with you?” You nod desperately, wanting to feel him more.

You moan as you feel his grip tightening around your throat; you reach desperately for his wrist and fingers, grunting, “More. Choke me more.” Profanities drop from his lips as he stares hungrily down at you, grinning as he feels your throat begin to throb as he follows your wish.

You feel his other hand tracing your thighs, slowly climbing higher and higher. He flips the skirt of your dress up and stares at your wet core. “You’ve soaked yourself, haven’t you? Are you just that much of a whore for me?” He places the palm of his hand over your lace clad heat, pressing your panties roughly onto your wetness. He puts his index and middle fingers into your entrance over your panties, wanting to soak the lace as much as possible. You arched your back at the touch, moaning as he begins to play with you.

He laughs at how needy you are as his index finger taps against your swollen bud, twisting and turning it between his fingers. You let out a whimper and his eyes whip from your entrance straight to your lips, which he sinks his teeth onto. He is still playing with your clit as he releases his hold on your throat and moves his hand to your mouth. He slips his first two fingers between your lips and you suck on them graciously. You moan against them, following your cheeks and bobbing your head as if it was his cock instead.

“My little whore,” he leans into your neck and murmurs against your skin. He pulls his now-wet fingers from your lips and spreads the saliva across your cheek. You feel him stopping his prodding at your entrance to pull your panties down your thighs. You kick them off your legs as you grab the back of Jungkook’s head to bring his lips to yours. “You just couldn’t resist me, could you? You tried to act like you didn’t need my cock, but here you are, soaking my sheets and writhing around in my bed.”

You bit your lip as you sit up, grabbing his arm to support yourself, “Shut up and put them in.”

“So needy...” he laughs. You feel his strong fingers circle around your entrance, poking around your vulva, but still denying their entry into your warmth. “I have you right where I want you; you’re gonna be screaming once I shove my fingers down your slutty cunt,” Jungkook growls as he thrusts two of his fingers inside you, curling up to reach for your g-spot. They slipped in so fucking easily, you barely felt the stretch because of how wet you were. This didn’t go unnoticed by him though, as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Hmm, your cunt is dripping, it’s the wettest one I’ve ever felt, sweetheart. You really are a little whore, aren’t you?”

“Hm, fuck,” you gasp out as he plunges his fingers in and out of your wet heat. Your eyes fall closed and you release your hold on him as you fall back into the pillows, enjoying the feeling of his long fingers inside of you. As he continues to fuck his fingers into you, you begin to feel the lack of oxygen in your head. You are gasping for air as he relentlessly abuses your little pussy, making it hard for you to catch your breath.

Once he sees your struggle, he releases his hold immediately and kisses the marks of his fingers away on your neck. Suddenly, you feel his fingers stop and you let out a whimper. “Please, Jungkook, don’t stop.”

He bites his lip as he looks down at your fucked out state, loving the sound of you begging. “Fuck yourself against my fingers, baby. Show me how much you want me.” Still hovering above you, he adjusts himself so that he settles between your legs, waiting for you to grind against his fingers. “Come on, sweetheart, be a good little slut for me.”

You nod aggressively, wanting to recreate the pleasure that you were feeling merely moments before. You arch your back, pressing your ass into the mattress, making his fingers exit your entrance, then raise your hips while lowering your back to get his fingers back inside of you, creating a seesaw-like motion. Each time his fingers bottom out inside of you, he curls them and rubs against the rough spot that has you twitching underneath him. You quickened your pace, going as fast as you could. You knew you could impress him if you were flipped over and had to fuck him on all fours or if you were simply on top of him, but instead, he trapped you in this position underneath him. You just imagined that you were fucking his cock and you rode his fingers as such.

You could feel Jungkook growing hard against your thigh, so you could tell he loved it as much as you. You heard him let out an occasional groan or grunt as you clench around his lean, long fingers; he loved the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching around him.

“Hmm, baby, you take my fingers so well. Your greedy little cunt just keeps sucking them in. You just can’t get enough can you, huh? My little cockslut is just so desperate to have anything inside of her,” he laughs as he pulls his fingers out, pulling them up so both of you can see the strings of wetness between his fingers as he stretches them apart. “I can’t wait for you to take my big, fat cock. Your sopping cunt is just begging for me; I bet I’d barely be able to squeeze into this tight little pussy of yours…”

He pulls away and lifts your dress off of you. He marvels at how your breasts rise and fall as you breathe heavily; if he’s surprised that you aren’t wearing a bra, he doesn’t seem to care. He’s just infatuated with your chest to realize how easy it was to feel them. He takes off his shirt and shifts his position to lean against the headboard. He taps his thigh, “Take a seat, baby.”

“But…” you climb above him, about to sit on his lap, but you pause, “You’re wearing dress pants.”

“And?” He grabs your hips and pushes you down onto his lap, grinding you roughly against the coarse fabric.

“And aren’t you afraid I’ll ruin them?” He releases his hold on your hips and you gently rut against him, wanting to savor the feeling of his strong thigh pressing into you.

“I don’t give a shit. I know you’ll soak these pants with your dripping pussy; it will smell like your sweet cunt for days, no matter how many times I wash it.” He takes his cock out as he reaches for you panties thrown across the bed, raising it to his nose to take a deep whiff.

He is pumping his cock as he groans, “You smell so amazing, baby girl, I love it. I can’t wait to fuck you up.” He reaches over and stuffs the panties in your mouth, making you taste your own arousal. He plays with your nipples as you ride his thigh, slowing down as you feel your orgasm approaching.

When he notices your hips stuttering, he pulls you off of him to prevent your climax. You whimper, the panties still in your mouth and you desperately try to climb onto him again. Instead, he laughs at your desperation as he flips you over, slapping your ass and pulling your gag from your mouth.

You lay on your stomach as you hear him taking off his pants and searching for a condom. You begin to hump the mattress, desperately trying to approach the orgasm that Jungkook had denied countless times throughout the night.

Before you know it, he’s right behind you, his erect cock prodding your thigh. “Stop that,” he slaps your ass again, watching it jiggle. You feel the head of him rub against your folds, prodding against your sensitive clit, making you jump at the sensation. “Spread your legs.”

You obey immediately, following every one of his orders, making him hum in satisfaction. “I’ve got such a good fucking toy to play with, don’t I? You just do whatever I tell you.”

He sinks into his palms that rest on either side of your head and he begins to push inside of you. You feel the head pop in and you gasp out, grabbing at the bed sheets, as you savor every inch of his thick cock. You love the burn of the stretch, and you feel his fingers grip onto your jaw as he pulls your face towards him. His fingers sink into your mouth again and you moan, sucking hard on them.

When he finally bottoms out, with his hips against your ass, he groans into your neck, “You feel perfect around my cock, baby. You’re such a good little whore for me, aren’t you? So wet, so needy, just for me. You love this, don’t you?” He doesn’t wait for a reply; instead, he opens your mouth roughly and spits in it. He groans in satisfaction as he sees you swallow his saliva.

You felt the head of his dick against your womb and you shuddered as you clenched around his length, loving how deep his cock was buried inside of you. Jungkook began a fierce pace, pulling out until just the head of him was inside of you, then snapping his hips forward until you felt every part of his cock. You let out a scream while he continues to ram in and out of you, thrusting with so much force that the mattress bangs against the headboard with every twitch of his hips.

“Oh my god, Jungkook, your cock is so deep,” you gasp out, panting and moaning so loudly that you are sure someone will hear you through the thin walls.

“Hm, my little cockslut, you feel so fucking good around me. Your cunt was made for my dick, baby. So fucking tight for me. When’s the last time someone used it, huh? Hm, that’s right, scream my name, let everyone know that I’m the one who’s fucking you so good.”

“Oh, god, yes! Fuck me harder, please, Jungkook, just use me like the whore I am! I just want to feel your fucking cock all day!”

He lets out a deep chuckle as he pushes himself even deeper inside of you. “Be careful what you wish for, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so well, you’ll forget your own name. I’ll be fucking you until there are tears in your eyes, until it hurts to move. That’s right. you’ll be milking every last drop out of my cock, I don’t care if you’re begging me to stop. You’ll be my perfect little cockslut, my little sex slave. That’s what you want, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Jungkook, please! Make me yours! Claim me as your bitch!”

“You like that? You like being completely at my mercy? You’re like a bitch in fucking heat; I can’t wait to make you tremble because I’m fucking you so well.” You whimper as you feel yourself approaching your high. You bite the pillows as you try to contain the pleasure growing inside of you. “That’s right, cockslut. Come all over my fat cock, soak it like the little bitch you are.” His voice is deep and commanding, and you have no choice but to completely lay limp as you become undone.

Your body is trembling, just like his goal had been, and you begin to twitch as you feel him continue thrust into you at a speed that didn’t seem to be faltering at all. “Jungkook…” you whimper.

“Hmm? What is it baby girl? Too sensitive? Too bad. I said I wouldn’t stop until you milked every last drop of cum from my cock.” You were shaking, your body twitching with each thrust. Not only was his cock over-stimulating you, but you felt his thumb reach for your clit and begin to rub ruthlessly as he grabbed your jaw with his other hand. His lips sucked on yours, and you felt him smirk onto your lips and he continued to pound into you. “You felt so fucking good clenching around me and soaking me with your cum. I wanna milk your little pussy until you’re sobbing like the pathetic bitch you are. Got it?” he pushes you back down roughly and you lay there, letting him pump in and out of you, overstimulating and fucking you to his heart’s content.

You feel another orgasm quickly approaching as he sped up his pace. You writhe underneath him, trying to find anything to grab onto. But before you can even scream his name, you are convulsing around him, shaking from yet another orgasm.

You lay still out of exhaustion, but Jungkook doesn’t mind as he grips your hips and ruts into you, using your body as a sex toy to get himself off. He moans loudly, grunting as he approaches his high, and you feel him slow down as he groans, “Such a good fucking slut I’ve got on my hands.” He finally releases into his condom and he stays inside of you until he softens.

Once he pulls out, he throws away the condom before plopping down next to you and laying on his back, toned chest rising and falling. You flip over and rest your head on his bicep. Looking at him, he didn’t remind you of the asshole who was shameless in public, groping several women at once, but rather a boy with a sweet, child-like personality. Tonight didn’t mean that you liked him. Not at all. You still weren’t friends with him. This was definitely a one-time thing. Or, more accurately, a two-time thing.

He turned his head and grinned at you. “So, were you ‘satisfied’ this time?” You rolled your eyes as he mocked you, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you nodded. He laughed like a child and grabbed your face to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You broke the kiss, “Jungkook?” He hummed and pulled your lips back to his, not wanting to waste a second. You laughed and pushed him away. “Can I stay tonight? I don’t have a bed.”

He just chuckles. “Didn’t I offer you my bed the day you moved in?”

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