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zoeysdamn · 1 year

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Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.8

Summary: Xavier’s arrest turns your world upside down, especially when there’s nothing you can do about it. Your health is detetiorating quickly, but how much can your body take before giving up? The Nightshades assemble, and as an unofficial member, so do you.

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, swearing, crippling bad writting for action scenes and rushed plot

A/N: Okay this is almost the last chapter, I’ve also made an epilogue aahhhh Also, I apologize for how the end of the chapter is rushed -hide-

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6] [Part.7]

Pushing away the crowd of students massed on the outlines of the yellow ribbons you stumbled on the last police cars leaving the scene. Some curious students had gathered around the art shed as soon as the rumor of the sheriff arresting one of them had spread, but you couldn’t care less. Between your ragged breath coaxed with petals and eyes filled with tears, you almost didn’t notice them anyway. The plaguing weight in your rib cage made it so hard to breathe the only air that was in your lungs came out as weak wheezes.

“Principal Weems!” you called out the tall woman who was standing stiff as ever, “You can’t let them take him away!”

Despite your pathetic cries, Weems didn’t bulge. Not even for your face full of tears and blood dripping from your nose and down your chin. Instead she looked down at you with cold eyes, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Please,” you begged her, “do something!”

Her tongue clicked sharply with contained annoyance, “I have no powers here Miss L/N,” she argued flatly.

“You know he’s innocent! He- he can’t do the things he’s accused of, please you have to believe me–”

“Quiet now Miss L/N,” she hissed quietly, eyeing around her to the two remaining officers retrieving the last pieces of “evidence” and watching the rest of the students carefully. “I’ve convinced them that you don’t have anything to do with it, don’t make things worse.”

Eyes wide, you whipped your head to the two officers who eyed you and Weems carefully. And not far away from them behind the yellow ribbon, the dark figure of Wednesday Addams witnessed the whole exchange as well. If your eyes weren’t so full of tears, they would have thrown daggers at her.

“Don’t make a scene,” whispered Weems angrily – but you recognized some worry in her eyes. “It’ll only aggravate things for Xavier.”

“He’s not the monster,” you whimpered, “you know he’s not.”

“I have no proof of that,” snapped the principal. “My hands are tied here, and if that’s what it takes for the police to stop the investigations on Nevermore, then it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

You jerked away from her in horror, like her words had burned you.

“What?” you mumbled in disbelief, “You’re…you’re ready to let Xavier be charged for crimes he didn't commit…to save your reputation?”

Weems pursed her lips, irritation starting to show on her traits, “There’s a whole school I’m trying to protect here, Miss L/N. Unfortunately for Mr Thorpe, Sheriff Galpin had enough evidence for his mind to remain unchanged about his guilt.”

Words of protest started to form on your tongue but you refrained yourself. Despite everything you could say, you knew she was right; principal Weems was only doing her job. The fatality of the situation made your chest erupt with a new coughing fit and your knees buckled under you. If it wasn’t for Principal Weems’ sharp reflexes, making her grab your forearm you would have crumbled on the ground. Enid and Ajax quickly came to your help, pulling you up and sliding your arms around their shoulders. Without them, you probably wouldn't be able to even stand on your own. Between raw coughs and spurted bloodied petals, you barely noticed your two friends leading you away from Principal Weems and the scene; their sole worry was to bring you to the infirmary now. As the three of you came across Wednesday, you threw a cold glare at her.

“You have…no idea of what you had done,” you spat at her with a trembling voice.

She only stared at you, unimpressed. “I have resolved a murder case, that’s what I did.”

The snort you tried to make only came out as a gurgling sound and more flowers being spat. “You did nothing but sentence two innocents and you fucking know it.”

Not caring how she would react, you turned your eyes away and tried to walk slowly, helped by Enid and Ajax. The flowers in your chest felt heavier than ever and surely won’t let you rest tonight. Yet, you let them guide you to the infirmary without a word. Where else could you go anyway?

The night was agonizingly long. Your mind was tormented by thoughts of Xavier, imprisoned yet innocent, trying to fight against his own demons and for his life; but also of visions of the flowers growing up in your lungs, crawling their way up to your throat and skinning it raw on their way. And when your mind found a second of peace, your own body didn’t let you rest either, shaking under the violence of the cough and fighting feebly against the disease. The taste of blood and copper didn’t feel so different now, as if filled your lungs as naturally as air. It was like the piercing sensation caused by the flowers through your chest had never left. When morning came, your whole bed was filled with white flowers coated in blood, surrounding you like a beautiful and dreadful halo. All of your limbs ached and your mouth was dry with the previous night of coughing and flower-spitting; your entire body felt like dying, yet you managed to get up and drag yourself to Weems’ office. You had a remaining unused favor and you made sure to use it wisely.

A little less than two hours later, the door of the detention area sprung open despite the loud protests of the police agents. Entering the room in a hurry you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of Xavier, chained up from head to toes and looking like a cornered animal. Tears filled your eyes; they even chained his neck, god what did they think he was? The sudden opening of the door had made him lift his head up and his eyes lit up slightly when he saw you. Xavier whispered your name in a breath and you threw yourself in front of the bars of his cell.

“Hey!” shouted one of the guards from the other room, “Miss step away you can’t stand this close–”

“Oh for fuck’s sake drop it,” you heard Principal Weems unceremoniously groan before shutting the door loudly.

Despite his hands being restrained, you grabbed Xavier’s wrists through the bars with shaking hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you cried as soon as you touched him, “I should have been here, I should have said something.”

“You couldn’t have done anything,” whispered Xavier in a soothing tone, “none of this is your fault.”

Sniffling loudly, you could only nod even if it wasn’t out of conviction. “How are you holding up?” you mumbled weakly. This question was stupid but you couldn’t help it.

“I’ve been better,” he admitted in a small voice. “What about you?”

Shaking your head, you only confirmed what he had feared – and saw. Between two visions of the monster, Xavier had been plagued with flashes of you, coughing blood and flowers on the infirmary bed, halfway through delirium and unconsciousness. He knew you weren’t doing fine.

“I’m gonna take you out of this,” you promised, lips trembling and tears ready to fall. “Wednesday will realize that she was wrong and- and Weems will help you I’m sure.”

But Xavier shook his head in defeat, “They’re transferring me in two days, there’s no time.”

“What?” you whisper-shouted in disbelief, “they can’t do that, that’s fucking illegal you haven’t been judged or–”

“It doesn't matter to them, I’m an outcast and they think I’m the monster,” said Xavier in defeat, putting his forehead against the bars. He couldn’t reach you but you pressed yours too, the closest you could. “I…there’s no way they’re letting me stay here with you.”

Tears that were already gathering in your eyes rolled down your cheeks, bitter at the knowledge he was right. Yet, none of you seemed to address the question that taunted you.

“What does it mean…for us?” you asked in a whimper. Will we have enough time for me to heal? you thought internally. Or will you be sentenced to watching me die, too?

Xavier exhaled deeply, looking beaten down like you had never seen him before. “I don’t know,” he admitted in a faint breath.

If his visions had been obstructing his feelings, now came the guilt; even though he knew he was innocent of the murders he was accused of. And deep down, he knew that you didn’t have as much time as the both of you had wanted.

Brushing his nose against your through the bars, Xavier let out a broken sigh.

“Listen sweetheart,” he whispered feverishly, “there’s something I need you to do.”

Nodding, you tried to stop the treacherous tears, “Anything.” At his lack of immediate response you looked up at Xavier worriedly. When you saw his eyes full of tears, you somehow knew he was going to ask something terrible.

“Xav?” you asked quietly.

Xavier swallowed thickly, like he feared the words itself. “I want you…I want you to have the surgical operation to remove the flowers.”

The choked gasp you let out was both because of the flowers and of the surprise. “H-how…?”

“I had one phone call,” explained Xavier, trying to keep his voice as steady as he could despite the emotion gripping at his throat, “I called your aunt, I…I wanted to make things right for you and- she told me about it.”

Now tears were streaming down your face without any restraint; how could you stop them anyway? “Why didn’t you call your father?” you asked in a small voice.

Through his own tears, Xavier tried to smile weakly, “He couldn’t do anything for you,” he whispered, “but your aunt can.”

The more he spoke, the more you shook your head in refusal, “No, no, no you can’t ask me to do this,” you cried, gripping the bars tightly. “I don’t want to forget you!”

This time, Xavier really did smile; his cheeks were full of tears and his expression was broken but his smile was true. “I know, sweetheart. But you’ll live, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Another broken sob rocked your body and if it wasn’t for Xavier’s sole presence, you would have crumbled down on the spot. You didn’t want to forget Xavier, not ever. He was the only reason you had made it through the years, your rock and your love. How could you continue to live without Xavier, with all the memories of him gone?

“They will never let me out of prison Y/N…I can’t stand the thought of losing you, not like this,” pleaded Xavier.

“You can’t ask me to do that,” you repeated in a broken voice, heavy with tears, “I can’t…I can’t do this Xav!”

Some footsteps came closer to the door of the room. “You need to,” pressed Xavier, “Your health isn’t improving and- and the visions didn’t stop, I’m not sure that you have much time left and I can’t live with the thought of you dying.”

The doors shot open to sheriff Galpin and several other officers barging into the room, roaring at you to step aside from the bars. But you didn’t hear them, all that mattered was Xavier.

“I can’t do this Xav,” you whimpered as one of the officers grabbed your arms.

“I love you Y/N,” choked Xavier in broken voice, “I always will!”

The officers tugged you away forcefully as tears ran freely down your face, “Xavier, I can’t do this!” you shouted, not caring of the snares of the policemen, “I can’t renounce on you! Xavier!!”

The last thing you saw before the large door closed in a deafening sound, was the utter broken look on Xavier’s face, chained up and caged as he looked at you for the last time in his life. Sick, crying and calling out his name in despair; and he couldn't do anything to chase away your fears and soothe your worries, only hope that you would listen to prayers and save yourself. He loved you more than anything, but if that wasn’t enough to save you then he was willing to disappear from your life in the blink of an eye if destiny asked him to in order to spare you.

All the way back from the police station was kind of blurry to you. You didn’t remember exactly the officers basically throwing you out of the police station, nor the car ride to Nevermore or Weems and Enid guiding you to the infirmary once again. When your mind finally emerged from this cloud of dizziness you were laying down once again, coughing and choking. You felt dead inside, and not only because of the disease. Xavier had asked you to remove the flowers while fully knowing what it would do to you, to save you. There was no way you would do this, you wanted to keep faith in him. But still…still a tiny, ridiculous part of you pondered this option. You didn’t want to abandon Xavier, but the doubt was here. If your mind was starting to crumble, your body would not hold up very long. Between the flowers, the potions you took, and now that…your own body was starting to let go. Nothing could make you sleep, even eating was beginning to be painful. In a matter of a few days since the whole urbex thing at the Gates’ mansion, your body had started to decay at an alarming rate. Stuck in the infirmary bed, you knew you were starting to give up.

When Wednesday entered the infirmary the next day, you were already the shadow of the girl you used to be. Laying still with an haggard look, you didn’t acknowledge your former roommate standing next to your bed; you didn’t have the strength or the will to do so.

After a solid minute of awkward silence, Wednesday finally spoke up, “I’ve come to bid my goodbyes.”

Barely glancing at her you still noticed that she was in her regular clothes and not in the Nevermore uniform anymore. Maybe she was being expelled after all, you had heard something along those lines from Enid.

At your silence she continued, “I’m being expelled from Nevermore due to some of my actions,” she explained flatly. “Unfortunately I won’t be able to pursue my investigation further. I came to apologize for that.”

Once again, you didn’t answer her.

“I know that Xavier isn’t the monster,” said the Addams carefully, “should I have more time I could have proven that.”

A faint scoff came out from your throat as a rasp, “What will it change? I don’t have the time you speak of, thanks to you.”

Instead of the witty come-back you expected from her, Wednesday didn’t argue. Maybe she had realized what she had done by falsely accusing Xavier; she had doomed you both.

“You had no proof that Xavier was the monster,” you mumbled weakly, “but you had been too prideful to listen to me just once and now look at where we are.”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, surprising the both of you. “I doubt I have anything to do with the decline of your health, but I’m sorry this is the way you’ll pass away.”

At first, a part of you wanted to spat at her that somehow she did have something to do with it; but then, you thought that you were being unfair to falsely accuse her. Maybe you and Xavier had never been meant to be together after all. All annoying she was, Wednesday Addams was just a girl. In the end, maybe time just never had a good timing for Xavier and you.

“Thank you,” you whispered quietly.

Wednesday nodded in gratitude and grabbed her bag that had been laying at her feet during your whole exchange. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye Wednesday.”

And with that, she left the infirmary and you coughed again. It would be over soon.

Later that night, you were trying to get some sleep when a sharp pain woke you up. It wasn’t like the crushing sensation within your chest because of the disease, more like a pull so strong it echoed in your skull and deep into your bones. Jolting awake at the unknown sensation you gasped loudly, drenched in a cold sweat. A strange nausea rose in you and you clutched your head tightly. What was this strange feeling? It felt like magic, but more…corrupted. Something was wrong, really wrong. Despite your weak state, you pulled yourself up in a sitting position and put on your jeans and shoes the best you could. Throwing a jacket over your t-shirt you staggered clumsily out of the infirmary, trying to follow this strange pull by leaning on the walls for support. It was the middle of the night, yet there seemed to be some kind of mayhem going on. It was confirmed when you came across a bunch of students hurrying to the school’s entrance when you reached one of the main corridors. Scratch that, it wasn’t just a bunch of students, it was the whole wing of the school that was rushing outside in a panicked haste. Confused by such crowd movement you spotted a pair of familiar blue eyes in all this mess.

“Bianca!” you called her out the best you could, making the siren whip her head in your direction, “What’s going on??”

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be here,” she urged as she quickly came by your side, noticing how you slumped against the wall. “We all need to evacuate the school.”

“Why?” you frowned, still not getting where this was coming from.

She glanced around and lowered her voice to make sure no one, especially the younger students, heard her. “This may sound crazy but Joseph Crackstone has been brought back from the dead and he’s heading here. I know,” she added to your widening eyes, “this is nuts but we need to get everyone out and quickly!”

You could only stare at her in disbelief, “But…how? I mean, how are we going to make everyone leave so fast?”

Bianca put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, more to keep you grounded than in compassion; there was no time for this. “The sirens and I are taking care of getting everyone out with our siren song,” she explained quickly, “you, you’re not doing anything, not in your current state.”

“No!” you protested, “I can help, I–”

“Ajax!” Bianca ignored you and called out to the gorgon passing by, leading younger students, “help Y/N to get out of here.”

He nodded and put one of your arms around his shoulders to help you walk to safety. “Bianca,” you called the siren as Ajax led the two of you away, “I can help!”

She could only offer you a sorry look before returning to her duties managing the evacuation. As you almost reached the main hall you coughed again harshly.

“Where’s Enid?” you rasped to Ajax.

“She’s in the forest, trying to help Wednesday or something,” he said quietly.

“Alone?!” you exclaimed, “and wait, Wednesday’s back?”

“Thing is with her,” Ajax reassured you. “C’mon, we’re almost outside of the school.”

A light bump on the back of your head made you jolt and you winced. Then another. Looking down you noticed small gravel rolling at your feet and you looked around to find the culprit. A pale appendice waved at you from one of the low walls bordering the school grounds.

“Thing!” you gasped, “what are you doing here?”

Ajax let out a quiet swear as the hand creeped at your feet, “Where’s Enid?!” he asked.

Things started signing as fast as he could, under your careful gaze and Ajax’s flabbergasted one.

“Enid’s still out there?” you repeated his signs, “in the woods?”

Things nodded and Ajax choked on his own air, “What??”

“What about Wednesday, where is she?” you urged the hand, who resumed his signing. “She escaped?”

Thing nodded and you whipped your head in Ajax’s direction.

“Go find Enid,” you urged him, wincing at the sharp pain erupting on your side. The wound the monster had given you at the Gates’ house was still fresh and the previous adrenaline had tuned it down until now. “The monster’s still out there, she’ll need help.”

Ajax nodded and started to rush out but then stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured through gritted teeth, “go find Enid, go!!”

The gorgon wasted no time dashing to the woods. In the meantime you stayed in the main hall, guiding the students passing by to the safe zone Yoko and other vampires were managing in the outside yard. Some students were terrified, but most of them seemed to be under the siren song’s influence and were fortunately much calmer.

Then, the strange pull started again. Whipping your head in every direction until you found its source, you tried to focus on it as your steps led you back inside the school. At first, you had thought it might have been the intensity of the siren song used by the scaled students all at once. But you knew their energy, you had witnessed Bianca using it once before she had to wear her amulet. This strange and dark aura wasn’t anything like a siren one.

The dreadful pull led you to the quad and you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of two figures you definitely didn’t expect. Wednesday Addams, a sword in hand, standing tall despite her petite frame; and a few feet away from her in his signature pilgrim outfit, a very undead Joseph Carckstone. The two of them seemed to be in the middle of a verbal jousting when a group of frightened students hurried next to you under the arches.

“Go to the outside yard and find the other,” you urged them in a whisper, “go, go.”

They nodded and ran quietly to the nearest exit, but not as discreetly as they would have thought. Crackstone’s head whipped in their direction, stomped his stick on the ground and with a sinister laugh summoned a raging fire ring launched in their direction. One of them let out a scream of terror at the flames raining down on their group. In the blink of an eye you throw yourself in front of them and shout an incantation to summon a shielding spell. The flames crashed against it, making you grit your teeth as the force of the deflagration pushed against your magic, weakened by the disease. You could almost feel the warmth of the fire against your cheeks. As quick as the spell had been cast, it disappeared suddenly in a cloud of smoke.

“Go!” you barked at the students, who wasted no time running away.

A sinister mix of a laugh and a sneer resonated in the quad, “A witch,” scoffed Crackstone, “spawn of the demon.”

The dark look you shot at him held the burden of centuries of oppression his kind has led to your ancestors and sisters witches. “Last I checked I’m not from your family,” you sneered at him as you stepped in the quad.

Crackstone laughed dryly, “I should have destroyed all of you harpies a long time ago.”

“Yes,” you growled as you drew deep into your magic, “you should have, asshole.”

Before anyone could add something you flicked your wrists with a mumbled spell and all of a sudden, Joseph Crackstone froze in place. Sweat erupted from your temple and all of your muscles tensed under the pressure of the spell. This kind of magic wasn’t unknown to you, freezing people in place was difficult but not impossible usually. But in your weakened state, it was a true hardship. Crackstone struggled under your magic, fighting to break himself free.

“Wednesday!” you shouted at her, trying to stay concentrated, “It’s whenever you want!”

The goth girl nodded sharply, and grabbed her sword. You felt yourself getting weaker by any second and prayed that Wednesday would be quick enough. But as she was about to launch herself and attack Crackstone, a familiar figure stepped into the quad, emerging from the side corridors. Brandishing a cocked bow aimed at Crackstone, Xavier appeared out of nowhere just behind Wednesday. His sudden appearance stole all air from your lungs, like a punch in the gut. How? How did he escape the police?

The whisper of his name escaped your lips before you could stop yourself, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. Xavier glanced briefly at you, but it was enough to reassure you. He was here and that was all that mattered.

But this split of second was enough for Joseph Crackstone to sneak past the fragile barriers of your magic. In an instant, the dead walking man crushed your spell like it was nothing and pushed away your hold effortlessly. The sudden breaking of your spell made your knees buckle from underneath you and you fell on the ground, barely catching yourself in time with your hands. Then, everything went very quickly. Xavier released the arrow with an accurate precision; the arrow froze in the air, inches from Crackstone’s heart; and turned around right back at Xavier.

You casted the spell before you could hear yourself scream. The spell froze Crackstone once again, for a brief moment, but didn’t stop the arrow. And just as it sped right at Xavier’s head, Wednesday threw herself in front of him and the arrow pierced her shoulder.

Turning in your direction, Crackstone groaned and broke from the spell once more. “You’re weak,” he spat, “I should have killed you earlier.”

With a whip of his scepter, an unknown force brutally threw you against the span wall before you could even think of reacting. Your body crashed against it, and you yelped as your wounded side hit the stones. A cracking sound echoed through your skull before you slumped on the ground like a broken doll.

From what seemed to be very far away, Xavier screamed your name. The ringing in your ears toned down everything around you, eyes blurry from both the shock and the tears. A cough erupted from your mouth but in your laying position, you couldn’t get the flowers out of your system. Blood started to fill your lungs as petals coated in it, choking you. Everything from your chest, throat and back of your head hurt. The world spinned around you, it was beginning to be hard to stay conscious. Everything felt so far away, not the rough surface of the stone floor under your palms, the smell of burning fire in through your nostrils nor the panicked screams seemed able to reach you. The only thing you could feel was the plaguing weight inside of your chest, crushing your lungs under its unforgiving pressure.

You coughed, mouth filled with blood and stained petals. At every cough, it felt like your throat and chest were lit on fire and tears escaped the corner of your eyes.

In the distance, you could vaguely perceive green lightning and clashes of steel. You tried to stir your memories. Ah yes, Wednesday, Joseph Crackstone, the fight must be still going on. Did Xavier make it? It felt like it had been hours already, while in truth it had been merely seconds. No matter how hard you tried to focus, you couldn’t care less about all of this because your whole body just hurt so much.

Suddenly someone shouted, closer to you this time. God, when would this excruciating feeling of your heart and lungs be squeezed to death ever stop?

“Y/N!!”

A sharp gasp – or the closest thing your obstructed lungs could do – escaped you as you recognized that voice. Xavier. Xavier was here. He dropped on his knees beside you, grasping your hand while checking for more injuries you could have with the other. Croaking weakly, you tried to say something, at least to say you were still alive. Nothing but gurgled sounds came out of you; words were stuck with the blood and flowers crawling out of your throat.

Xavier called you and spoke to you; but his words barely even reach your ears. He tried to call on you, to ask you where you were hurt, to beg you to hold up a little longer. None of this reached you.

Too entrapped in his own panic, Xavier didn’t hear someone else rushing and dropping by his side. It was only at Bianca’s gasp he realized she had appeared.

“Shit,” she swore under her breath, “she’s choking up!”

Xavier stuttered, struggling to form words correctly, “Her lungs- her lungs are filled with flowers, she’s dying!”

If Bianca was surprised by his words she didn’t show it the slightest. Thinking quickly, she ripped your jacket open and brushed away the petals you had thrown up to clear the area of your chest. Then she placed both of her hands on your plexus and started to press on it repeatedly, at a steady rhythm. Helplessly watching the siren perform CPR, Xavier cradled your head as he continued to desperately call you, hoping you would answer him or at least hear him. Anything to keep you conscious. But when his fingers brushed the back of your head and came back bloody, he gasped under his breath.

“Shit, she’s bleeding at the head too!”

Bianca swore loudly. “Keep talking to her, we can’t let her pass out!”

Despite the raging battle cries coming from the quad, Bianca continued restlessly to press against your chest, trying to force some of those flowers out to get you some air. But the more seconds passed by, the more you felt yourself slip away.

At Bianca’s instructions, Xavier ducked and pressed his lips against yours to push some air into your lungs. He looked up at the siren and shook his head so she resumed her pushes. They called you. Both of them tried tirelessly to make you breathe, no matter how long it would take.

“C’mon Y/N!!” shouted Xavier, his eyes full of tears, “Hold on sweetheart, you can’t leave me now!”

With a trembling hand he cradled your cheek, leaving a bloody imprint on it. His move pulled your mind from the borders of consciousness for a brief moment. Even on the verge of death, you could recognize those hazel hair and brown eyes anywhere; nothing could make you forget him. The pathetic attempt at calling out Xavier’s name only came out as a weak wheeze, as more blood dripped from your mouth.

“I’m here sweetheart,” soothed Xavier the best he could, “keep your strengths, shhh.”

You wanted to answer him, to tell him that you loved him. Between the ragging pain in your chest and throat, the burning sensation on your left side and the dizziness due to the hit at the back of your head, your body reached its limits. The screams of Xavier and the pushes on your plexus started to fade away. The last hold you had on reality crumbled slowly as your eyelids felt heavier than before. Xavier screamed your name again.

As the crushing feeling in your chest grew even heavier, at a point where your own body couldn’t take it anymore, you felt yourself slip away. And then your vision went black.

Some flashes of scenes faintly nudged at the back of your mind. Or were they memories?

“She’s not breathing anymore!!”

Maybe it was a dream? Or a drunken bribe of reality?

“What can we do?!”

“Move over!”

This wasn’t something you remembered exactly; yet your mind was certain it had happened.

A sound, faint but firm. Enchanting yet leaving no place to protest, not even for your own body.

“Breathe.”

Like something pulled out from the water, your mind emerged gradually, gasping for air. And you breathed.

Eyes fluttering open, you let the surroundings sink into you. The glass windows, the small beds with white sheets, the unmistakable scent of antiseptics. Despite your mind being still fuzzy from your unconsciousness, you recognized the place as the school infirmary. You remembered having been here quite a lot those last few days. The more your mind became less clouded, the more you became aware of all the areas where you body hurted. Your left hip and the top part of your tight stinged, but were a minor worry compared to the ringing at the back of your head.

And your chest felt, for what felt like the longest time ever, light and free. Glancing on the bedside, you noticed a large basin filled with flowers, petals and roots. All bloodied; and all out of your lungs.

“Y/N”

The call of your name made you lift your head; you knew that voice. A few feet away from you, a man was standing. Hazel hair, brown eyes glistening with relieved tears; you knew him.

“Xavier,” you breathed out the name that had appeared in your mind.

He smiled broadly at you and crossed the room to sit on the bed next to you. When he took your hand with his, you didn’t flinch away because it felt so right. He looked at you intensely, at every detail of your face like he was looking at you for the first time. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke softly.

“How are you feeling?”

You took a moment to think before answering him, “Good. Better than before I…it feels like my lungs are almost empty now.”

He nodded with a tight smile, like he was trying to hold back some tears. “It’s because they are,” he said, nodding to the flower-filled basin. “There’s no more flowers growing in there.”

The memories of what had happened gradually came back to you. The chest pains, the blood, the petals coughed; the words of your aunt, the potions you drank, Enid’s worries, Wednesday fighting against Joseph Crackstone. Xavier must have noticed it because he brushed his hand over your cheek.

“Hey it’s okay,” he said softly, “it’s over. Crackstone is gone, the monster has been arrested, everyone’s okay.”

“The flowers,” you breathed feebly, “how…how did they go away?”

Xavier licked his lips and pondered how to explain things to you.

“How much do you remember?” he asked, and you searched in your mind for the last thing you remembered.

“Crackstone was in the quad and I tried to fight him,” you began slowly, trying to picture the scene in your head, “there was Wednesday too, and…and maybe someone else? Bianca maybe?”

You missed the faint sob escaping Xavier’s lips and carried on. “I was thrown against the wall, I hit my head I think…then it’s a bit fuzzy, but- but I think you were there? Or maybe someone else I don’t know but…everything was hurting so much…”

He squeezed your hand in support, sensing that everything was still sensitive for you. So he picked up where you had left the conversation, “Bianca had tried to perform CPR on you but it wasn’t enough. You…you stopped breathing at some point,” he said in a trembling voice still heavy with emotion. “So we…we tried something and she used her siren song on you and ordered you, I mean, more like your body, to breathe.”

Flashes of distant memories echoed in your mind; yes, that you could vaguely remember. So, the power of a siren could be stronger than physical limits, uh.

“As soon as things calmed down, we brought you to the infirmary and a guy came in, saying your aunt sent him.”

You frowned at his words, “Who?”

He shrugged, “I don’t really know, but he knew of your…condition. Said that your aunt had called in a favor he owed her and asked him to come to Nevermore the fastest he could after your phone call.”

“And?”

“He’s a doctor,” explained Xavier, “a surgeon.”

You sucked in a breath, knowing what it meant. But after what Xavier had told you…they had no choice. “He removed them, didn’t he?” you asked in a whisper.

Xavier nodded slowly, “All of them. You flatlined twice before or during the operation, Y/N we…we had no choice I’m so sorry.”

Tilting your head in confusion you asked, “Why?”

The hand on yours froze immediately, and he looked up at you with his soft doe eyes. Tears he had tried to hold back were so close to fall now.

“You don’t remember?”

His broken voice slightly caught you off-guard. But instead of saying ‘about what?’ you started to understand. Why he was here; why his touch was feeling so familiar and comforting, and why he looked so broken. So you shook your head apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out.

Swallowing thickly, Xavier tried to smile through the heartbreak; he failed. “I just…I thought that…you said my name so…”

“You thought that I hadn’t forgotten about you,” you completed for him. He nodded and despite the newfound weightlessness in your chest, you felt your heart break at the sight. Why was he the one you had lost all of your memories about?

“Maybe- maybe I haven’t forgotten everything,” you tried to reassure him softly, “I remembered your name and...and I feel like I know you.”

“Really?” he asked with a tint of hope in his voice and you couldn’t help but stare at him. The memories were nowhere to be found, but his face…his face brought you so much comfort and warmth inside…he couldn’t be no one to you.

“I remember that I loved you,” you whispered, eyes locked in his.

Xavier let out a ragged breath in disbelief, a smile stretching his lips in surprise.

“You do?” he asked in astonishment, to which you only nodded with a soft smile.

“I...I don’t know how much I can remember, but I know that…I want to remember you, Xavier. I know that I have been happy with you…have I?”

Bringing your hands to his lips, Xavier pressed a soft kiss on your knuckles. Tears of joy rolled down his cheeks, landing on your hands, “You were,” he confirmed with a wide smile, voice still wavering from emotion, “and you made me so happy too, sweetheart.”

You let out a light laugh, tears pricking the corner of your eyes too. He was right; even if your memories were lacking, you felt what he said. You had been happy with him. Without really realizing it, your faces slowly leaned to the other’s. And with the utmost tenderness, Xavier cupped your cheek and kissed you softly on the lips. Instead of feeling nervous or surprised, the kiss felt natural to you and you responded to it gladly. The softness of his lips felt familiar, was familiar, so did the soaring in your heart. When you parted slowly you opened your eyes, meeting his kind ones once again.

“Sorry I really wanted to do this,” he whispered with a faint grin.

Slightly frowning at the impression of déjà-vu, you let out a small smile too, “Hey, I think I’ve said that before you.”

His grin widened and he pressed another kiss on your forehead this time, “You did, sweetheart. You did.”

The two of you spend the rest of the evening talking about what had happened: Miss Thornhill’s true identity, Tyler turning out to be the hyde, Principal Weems’ unfortunate passing, Enid, Wednesday, Ajax, Bianca and the other students being safe. None of you pushed the subject of your operation nor its consequences any further thought. You were alive and honestly that was all that mattered.

At some point, Xavier had to leave your side and after dropping one last kiss on your forehead and promising he would be back soon, he left the infirmary.

In the corridor when he knew he was out of ear’s reach he allowed himself to let out the cough he was holding up for the past few hours. A cough turned into another, until he felt his throat clear. As he looked down on the bloodied petals on his palm, Xavier didn’t feel fear or despair.

Your amnesia had made the tables turn, and now he was the one harboring one-sided feelings; but he was not afraid. Maybe your mind had forgotten him, but he knew your heart hadn’t. Just like you had waited for him, Xavier would wait for you.

[Epilogue]

A/N: did I shamelessly re-used some part of the intro? Well, yes, for ✨plot reasons ✨ Also, did I rushed the ending? AHAH Y E S and I’m so ashamed of that lmao I’ll stop rambling now and start editing the epilogue which yes, I’m posting tonight because I’ve tortured you way too long ♥

Thanks everyone for your incredible support, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist: (no need to ask at every chapter, you're added once, and you're added for the whole fic :D)

@apocalypticnova @libdarkheart @ameliabs-world @certifeidlovergirl @aeisnoa @cat-loves-music @coolchick333 @eringaitskill @sweaterxav @sssleepless @l4venderia @persipeoni @coldheartedmar @littlebabyk @pinksirensong @nushy @raribella @igotanidea @ali-r3n @chaosfrisur

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#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier x y/n #xavier x reader #xavier thrope imagine #xavier thorpe angst #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

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archiveikemen · 6 months

Text

『 Zero Distance 』 Story Event: Chapter 1

Liam Evans

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

My lover had the curse of a cat, which meant that he had to periodically satisfy his curiosity.

That’s why Liam would go thrill seeking with Alfons night after night.

I wanted to be with Liam for tonight, so I asked to tag along with them—

Kate: Why am I being hung mid-air…?

Liam: You’re not having fun? Al, pull Kate back up. Quick, quick.

Alfons: My, you have such little perseverance. You’re always so quick to complain.

Alfons, who was holding onto both of my ankles, slowly lifted me.

Kate: Oof… I thought I was going to die.

Alfons: Wasn’t that a fresh new experience? So, did you manage to confirm whether there are any security guards inside?

Kate: I- I was too scared to do that!

Tonight, Alfons and Liam were trying to steal an artwork from a museum for fun.

The truth was that the artwork was stolen by the museum, and they planned to steal it to return it to its original owner.

Kate: Can’t we just have a proper talk with the museum's director instead of going to such lengths?

Alfons: Aren't we committing this crime to help others, precisely because lawful means won't be effective?

Alfons: Your way of thinking is as unnecessarily serious as ever.

(... I get the feeling they just want to sneak into a museum in the middle of the night because it's thrilling to them.)

And to prove my point, what they were about to do tonight wasn't one of Crown’s missions, it was entirely their own idea.

Liam: Kate! Al!

Liam: Looks like the security guard went into the room in the back. Now’s the best time to sneak in.

Liam: Kate, are you coming too? I’ll make sure to hold your hand the entire time.

Liam extended his hand to me with a sweet smile, the gesture making my heart flutter.

I held his hand, happy to see Liam smiling while living in the moment without fearing for his tomorrows.

(... I’m weak for this smile.)

Kate: Got it, let’s go.

— That decision was a huge mistake.

…

Security Guard: S-Stop right there, the three of you…!

Alfons: Ahaha, as expected of an incredibly well-known art museum in England. What excellent security.

Kate: This is not the time to be saying such things!

We were running around the place to get away from the security guard who heard the commotion and came out to investigate.

(Ah…)

I accidentally stumbled in a corner, and Liam swiftly caught me in his arms.

Liam: Kate…

Click. The security guard fastened something on mine and Liam’s hands the moment we stopped running.

(This is… no way…)

(Handcuffs!?)

Security Guard: *pant* *pant*... I finally caught you. You guys are fast.

Security Guard 2: Oi, I’ll go after that guy with a shady looking smile. You watch these two.

(... If Liam were the only one here, he’d be able to disappear and escape.)

But I knew that Liam would never choose to leave me behind.

(... What should we do? If we get handed over to the police…)

Liam: We got caught, huh. But being locked up in jail with you might not be such a bad thing.

Liam: Ah, but if the other prisoners fall in love with you… I might kill them all.

Kate: Liam, I don’t think this is the right situation to be saying—

Liam: Fufu, I’m just kidding. I won’t let you get arrested by the police so easily.

Liam: Because I’m the only one who’s allowed to touch and monopolise you.

Liam grinned like a Cheshire cat and said loudly,

Liam: Al, you’re watching us from somewhere, aren't you? Sorry, but we need your help here.

Alfons’ Voice: And what will I get in return for helping you?

Liam: How about drinking all you want tonight and I’ll pay for your bill?

Alfons’ Voice: One more time?

Liam: Geez. You can eat all you want too.

Alfons’ Voice: Deal.

Security Guard 1: Uwah! Where did you…

Alfons: Hm? You just caught a pair of dogs, I’m one too.

Security Guard 1: W-Why are there three dogs here?

Alfons removed his black leather gloves and touched the nape of the guard’s neck to create an illusion using his curse’s ability, the guard widened his eyes in shock.

Liam: Thanks, Al. Come on, let’s escape before the illusion wears off.

Liam: Kate, I’ll carry you. Hang on tight.

…

After sneakily stealing the artwork and leaving the museum, the two of them laughed loudly while walking down the street.

Liam • Alfons: Ahh, that was fun.

Kate: I FEEL LIKE MY LIFESPAN GOT SHORTENED…!

Alfons: Oh, you don't seem to have enjoyed yourself. That’s too bad.

Liam: I’ll definitely take your enjoyment into consideration next time, please don't abandon me…

Kate: I can never abandon you, Liam. Just be sure to keep the danger factor in moderation.

Liam: Fufu, okay. I’ll be careful.

Alfons: By the way, how long do you two intend to keep those handcuffs on?

Alfons: I won’t judge if you're into that sort of play, though.

Kate: Oh, right. We have to take this off.

Liam: Don’t worry, Kate. Al is a pro at unlocking things. So—

Alfons: Let’s see…

Alfons reached his hand around my shoulder and touched the handcuffs.

Alfons: Goodness! These handcuffs have some numbers on them. Look.

Upon hearing those words, I looked down at the handcuffs to see a small device resembling a clock attached.

Kate: … 24 hours left…?

Alfons: I’ve heard of this rare type of handcuffs with a time lock. It will only unlock after 24 hours.

Liam: … :0

Kate: I-In other words—

Liam: We can’t remove it until 24 hours is up…?

Alfons: Ahaha!

…

The next morning, Liam and I woke up to the handcuffs still linking our arms together.

— 12 hours left.

Liam: Not like it’ll magically come off when we wake up.

Liam: But being stuck with you until the time is up makes me happy.

Liam smiled sweetly while staring at the handcuffs.

(He’s so cute…)

Liam twirled my hair around his finger as we laid in bed.

Liam: Do you hate being in this situation? Is it bothering you? Do you want to take this off?

Kate: I don’t hate it.

Kate: I know this will be a little bit inconvenient… but I’m also kind of excited.

Liam: Excited?

Kate: Because it’s rare to be able to be this close to you at all times.

Kate: And I’m relieved that it's you I’m stuck to… mm… mmph…

Liam: You’re so adorable, Kate. And I’m so, so happy…

While kissing me repeatedly, Liam gently held me down on the bed.

Liam: … I wonder how far we can go with our hands cuffed together?

Kate: How far…

Liam: Kissing you isn’t a problem. But can I take your clothes off with one hand?

Kate: Liam, don’t take my clothes off… ahh

Liam: I can’t fondle them using both of my hands, so I’ll lick them instead. You like that, don't you?

Liam: Are you feeling more sensitive than usual? … mm… so cute…

Kate: … ahh, it’s still morning…

Liam: I love doing it in the morning too. Because I can see everything about you clearly.

Kate: … ahhh

…

We explained our situation to William and Harrison while having a late breakfast.

William: — So this is what happens when you sneak into an art museum to satisfy your curiosity.

Harrison: That’s what you get for being curious. But this is a rare type of lock that that guy (Alfons) can’t unlock.

Alfons: My, my, it appears that you're enjoying this perverted play.

Kate: Whoa! Please don’t appear out of nowhere so suddenly. Also, what do you mean by “enjoying”...

Alfons: You shouldn't tell lies. I can see the numerous hickeys on your neck…

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: Al is lying. Geez, you're so gullible.

Liam: I mean, I did kiss Kate’s body a lot this morning, so it’s not surprising if she has hickeys on her.

I was flustered by the bombshell comment Liam so nonchalantly made, and William smiled quietly.

William: Victor said that Kate and Liam can be on break until the handcuffs come off.

William: Because they most likely won’t be able to go on missions with their hands cuffed together like this.

Liam: Really? Victor’s so understanding, as always.

Harrison: But don't you have rehearsals today? Weren't you making a huge fuss over next weekend’s premiere?

Liam: Yup, that’s right. Kate, can you accompany me to my rehearsal?

Kate: Of course. Please do take me with you.

Liam: Mm, thanks.

I would usually just see Liam off to his rehearsals without tagging along, in order to avoid getting in his way.

However, it was inevitable for me to be by Liam’s side all day today.

(Even so, I don’t think our situation is too bad.)

Alfons: Liam, Liam. … What will you do?

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil story event #liam evans

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justrainandcoffee · 2 months

Text

Criminal (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc)

Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell (ofc) Masterlist

Summary: Why give her a diamond necklace, a perfume or a new dress, when you can pay a bail to free her from prison? Their valentine's day ended with her in jail, but if you ask Alfie the events that lead her to be there were really worth. And hot.

Warnings: None. Except mentions of misogyny.

Words: 1.1 k.

1912.

The police station was in silence except for the chief's voice who was dictating something to another man who was sitting in front a typewriter.

Name: Rose Elizabeth Coldwell.

Date of birth: 20 June 1888.

Age: 24.

Status: Married.

Name of partner: Alfred Solomons.

Charges: Disturbances in public space, fighting, injuring another civilian.

Murders: zero.

"For now, you fucking pig!" the woman in question, didn't finished what she had started.

"Shut your mouth, lady."

"The day you close your ass, idiot."

"Add 'offenses against authorities'" the chief said to his colleague before turning his head to her "anything else you want to say?"

In response, Rose just showed him her middle finger.

How she had ended in such situation was a great question. Supposedly, that very night she and her husband were ready to enjoy a romantic dinner to celebrate Valentine's Day.

A new elegant restaurant had opened its doors and Alfie had made a reservation for them. Musicians were playing a beautiful melody with their instruments when they arrived. A waiter received them and accompany them to their table. Lamb was their choice for that night.

The young couple have only been married for less than a year, so that Valentine's Day was especial. Alfie kissed her hand and she smiled at him.

"I love you"

"I love you, too."

That restaurant allowed couples to dance and they saw several of them enjoying that night. Once the dinner was over, Alfie said to her, they'd dance as well.

But that never happened.

Lost in their own world, Rose only knew what was happening around them when she heard a woman sobbing. In the table next to them, a man was threatening his partner.

"I'm sorry," she said trying not to make an scandal.

"You're a worthless whore, that's who you are. Nothing but a bitch."

"Steven, please… don't."

"Don't what? Whore."

Rose frowned. Not in valentine's night and not in front of her. Sadly, Alfie reacted too late.

"Excuse me," she said approaching the man "Are you Steven?"

"Who the fuck are you?"

Rose smiled at him warmly and repeated the question "Are you Steven?"

"…yes "

"Good! Because I have a present for you!"

"What present?"

"This one!" Rose punched his nose with such strength that immediately it started to bleed and the man screamed. Now the whole restaurant were looking at them.

"My nose, you fucking bitch! You broke it!" the man tried to grabbed her but he couldn't. Over the last months she learnt jiu-jitsu and before the man could realise what happened he was lying on the floor with Rose sat on his back. She was making a key lock with the arms.

"Now listen to me, you piece of shit," Rose said still immobilizing the man. "Your options are very limited. Or I break your arm along with your nose or you learn how to treat a woman, fucking worm. Don't blame your wife if you are fucking, fucking miserable man. If you mistreat her again, I'll find you and I hope you have kids because after I find you, your days as semental are over and you'll learn that a broken nose is nothing compared to have a knife decorating your dick, did you hear?"

"Yes! Yes!"

"What?"

"Yes, ma'am, yes. I swear never again!"

"Good."

Rose let him go at the same time police arrived. The man walked through the multitude not looking at anyone and following one of the officers. The girl who was mistreated by that man and Alfie stayed there.

"Who's she?"

"Me wife," Alfie said trying not to sound so proud, but he was. He knew that she trained in martial arts but he never saw her in action. And to be honest with himself that was hotter than he expected. Such a badass attitude was definitely something new for him. "My Rosie."

They didn't allow Alfie to pay the bail in that moment. They kept adding charges because Rose wasn't ready to let it go. A lioness kept in a cage was a perfect definition for the current situation.

"Fifty pounds, sweetheart," said Alfie when finally, the next morning, they freed her.

"Make it one hundred, you fucking bastards!" she said leaning against the counter. The chief looked at Alfie.

"Control your wife, Mr. Solomons."

"Why don't you control the poor, eh? That's something you do very well! Bastards, part of this oppressive system, I hope you…"

Still protesting, they left the police station. Well, Alfie left the building carrying his wife with him.

"Ok. Enough, we're going home." Alfie picked her up easily and put her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. "Have a nice day, gentlemen."

"Let me down, Solomons!"

"No."

"What? Let me down!"

"No."

"Are you planning to walk with me over your shoulders until we get home?"

"Yes."

"People are watching us."

"Good."

"Have you considered to say anything else apart from monosyllables?"

"No."

Rose sighed while Alfie walked. There were no far away from their home and yet, Alfie indeed didn't seem to be ready to let her go. She accepted her fate. More than one in the streets looked at them amused.

"Nice ass," she said pitching his bottom while he was turning around the corner. She heard him laugh. "Did you enjoy the show last night? The bastard went to hospital and I heard policemen said that he didn't want to present charge but the cops had another idea. Assholes."

Alfie didn't talk until they arrived their home and only inside, he let her down. She fixed her dress while opened her mouth to keep talking.

"You…"

But her words remained in her mouth. Alfie put his lips over hers and was kissing his wife passionately.

"Yes, I saw the show last night and it was fucking hot…" Alfie started to unbuttoned his shirt, guiding her to their bedroom. "Next time, warned me about your skills, Rosie."

She giggled, hugging him by the waist. "I didn't know that was a turn on for you."

"Me neither."

The man grabbed her by the waist and laid over her in bed. "Next time," he said between kisses, "I'll take you with me when I have a meeting with fuckin' Sabini."

"If you want…" Rose beneath him, looked at her husband.

"Oh, I fucking want." Both of them kissed again.

Their romantic valentine's night had to wait until the next morning to be finish the way they wanted to finish it. But it was worth. That 1912, it was probably one of the most memorable valentine's date they ever had. Chaotic, for sure, but they were used to it.

Alfie knew he was married to a criminal, after all, she had stolen his heart.

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie x rose #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x oc #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfic

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letsunity · 10 months

Text

With Thunder Comes Lightning

Summery: Peter and MJ tried again, but the spark wasn't there; they stay as friends to raise their soon-to-be daughter. Everything was going great until evil goop and a spooky vampire guy fall out of an orange portal. Little does Peter know that the biggest pain in his ass and future mutant best friend has landed right at his feet.

art by @Aba_zakyX

Chapter 2 - Never Left Behind

Peter crouched on the rooftop, scowling at the location where his friends and co-workers were killed.

The police were gone, finally.

He swung down, landing outside of the police tape barrier. Even in the dark, Peter could see the damage. The road, pavement, and even the walls of buildings were horrifically corroded.

Anybody that lived nearby was evacuated, and the smell alone was telling. Toxic fumes that would kill a regular person hung like menacing mistletoe.

Peter can see the outlines of what used to be his comrades.

"Was there anything I could've done for them?" Peter asked, knowing his new buddy was standing behind him.

"No. They died quicker than most, so that's a small mercy."

It didn't feel like it.

Miguel stalked past Peter, making no sound despite his size. He wandered around the crime scene, examining the spots where Peter's comrades used to be.

He saw the eye markings narrow intently, analysing everything. He watched Miguel pause at a single spot, prodding something.

Hopping over the tape, Peter joined his side, finding charred bone sticking from the concrete. It made him feel sick.

It was a femur, and the size betrayed that it was Luke Cage's bone.

Peter had to lift his mask, emptying his stomach. Seeing his friend reduced to that made him ill. Regret, grief and guilt swarmed Peter like locusts to an open field. Ten plagues danced throughout his soul, and come to the final wrath, was no lamb's blood on his door to save him from the inner pain.

Pain fused and interwoven with anger.

That fucking thing killed his friends, stripped them to the bone and ate them. It was Peter's fault, of course. If he just listened, he would've been irritating Murdock about something dumb and boring.

He won't get those fun team-ups anymore.

"You were close," Miguel stated, though no emotion was in his voice.

"Yeah, we were," Peter answered, feeling a hollowness start to claw in his chest. "He helped MJ and me move into our new place. Cage was a good man. All he did was help people; he didn't deserve to go like this."

"The greatest stars shine the brightest but are snuffed the fastest. It's a saying in Nueva York. The good fall and become the stairs for the wicked to climb higher."

"How can somebody be reduced to nothing but a step?"

"By something that never valued life in the first place. Life tends to be most valuable when it's already gone."

"What book did you get that from? Because damn."

"My mother."

"Must be a smart lady."

"She was. Better than I could ever be."

"I feel the same about Aunt May and Uncle Ben. It's hard comparing yourself to great people when you're a major fuckup."

He heard a gruff of agreement.

Aunt May was a pillar of Peter's life, his mother figure, a great woman he aspired to be like. While Uncle Ben gave him the "With great power, comes great responsibility", May was the one who taught him what that meant.

It would be helpful if she were here. She always knew what to do, but Peter was a bumbling mess.

How could he be a father when he causes the death of his friends?

"Parker!"

Peter swivelled to his teammate, watching as Miguel stalked towards an alleyway.

"You find something?"

"A trail. He might still be nearby."

Peter could avenge them. He could do something right.

That bastard was going to pay for what he did.

He stuck close to Miguel's side, trying to see what he did. The other Spider behaved like a hunter, tracking his prey, slowly reaching a warehouse.

It's surprising how many of those there are in New York.

"Do you smell that?" Miguel asked, lowering himself cautiously. "Unnatural decay is always a sign."

He nodded to rot in the concrete walls that shouldn't be there.

Klyntarus sucked life from everything, even if it were inanimate.

The duo snuck towards a window, peeking into the darkness within. It looked abandoned and derelict, but there was far too much inside for that to be. There are expensive crates of valuables.

Although the date stated it arrived only a few days ago, the wood of the crates looked like they were left to the elements for years.

Unnatural rot, a tell-tell trait of Klyntarus' presence.

Miguel held a finger to the window, a claw popping out of the finger pad. He jostled the lock and pushed the window up slowly.

"How do I get some of that in my suit?"

"They're not part of the suit."

"So, you've got actual claws?"

"You stick to walls; I get claws."

"You can't stick to walls? Dude, seriously?"

"Not the time, Parker."

"What else have you got? Or don't have?"

"Silencio!" Miguel hissed, "We don't want him to know we're here."

That made sense.

Peter was still curious, though. He recalled how Noir had more endurance, that Penni was quick, and Porker had "Hammerspace". Then there was Gwen, who had far more agility than the others and Miles could go invisible.

Do all Spider-people have something unique to them?

It felt like Peter only had extra weight. That sucked.

The warehouse stank of decay. There's a scorched trail on the floor and suspicious mounds of former people. The gang must've been trying to protect them.

Out of curiosity, Peter looked in one of the crates, finding several packaged gadgets. There are all kinds of Apple devices, some Windows, Samsung, Sony and more. It must be a warehouse for a supermarket or a store, maybe even a shopping mall.

He came here to fix that sphere thing, didn't he? Eat the people inside and use the technology to repair himself.

Peter started to shake, his Spider senses going haywire. He webbed to the ceiling, attaching to it, unable to stop the shivering. He couldn't turn his head when Miguel joined him, his claws deep into the wall.

Fear sang throughout his bones, a NASCAR race of terror screeching in his very atoms.

The image of his friends melting into ash clouded his vision, a fog that was so thick it clung to the back of his throat. The weight of guilt caused his grip to loosen, but Miguel caught him.

Feeling someone touch him managed to snap Peter out of being frozen, Miguel's arm tight around his waist.

His fellow Spider released his grip, landing on a high support beam. He attached to it instantly, his fingers gripping the metal so tight that it dented.

A door opened, giving Peter something to distract himself with. He watched as Black Cat stumbled into the warehouse, but his senses warned that it wasn't her.

Miguel gripped Peter's shoulder, keeping him from going to her.

"Lo siento..."

He didn't understand what that meant. He would find out, though.

Black Cat shivered, gripping her arms as slime leaked from her face. He could smell the burning flesh already.

The skin went first, then the fat, the fascia and the muscle; it melted away until there was only blackened bone. That, too, was destroyed, reduced to mere ash.

Fuck, not Felicia. She was finally getting her life together with her new wife.

The offending sludge that took his friend twisted and coiled, creating a humanoid-like body. The "scars", as Miguel called them, pulsed akin to a heartbeat; those red eyes locked onto an office room.

"I'll distract him. Destroy the stabiliser."

"And leave you to fight him alone? Daredevil, Cage, Jones, She-Hulk and Iron Fist didn't do squat together."

"You burn, I don't. Simple as that. Move fast and get this over with, Parker."

Before Peter could argue, Miguel jumped to the ground, alerting Klyntarus.

"Ahh, 2099, you still live," Klyntarus chuckled almost gleefully. "I'll admit, you hurt me badly. I'm proud."

Safe to say that Klyntarus is distracted.

Peter crawled on the ceiling, making his way towards the office. It looked rotten, more than the rest of the building, so he must be hunkered in there. As soon as Peter destroys that damn thing, they can burn the bastard.

"Shove it. You know what I'm here for."

"You don't have a Venom Burst, so that'll be mighty tough. And your fancy trinket is broken, so negative on the backup, not even that sassy little assistant. You're all alone, 2099. Just the way I like you."

Even in his injured state, he was taunting and acting like he wasn't in danger. Hopefully, he was so up his ass - or the Symbiote equivalent - he won't realise that Miguel's distracting him.

Peter's senses were on the fritz, panicking like a bucking rodeo horse. He had to focus, though. The sooner they break this bastard, the fewer people will die.

Klyntarus wandered away from the office-like part, the tail-like appendage dragging on the floor. He was giggling, fixated on Miguel.

"Just like Alchemex Tower; cuando huiste como el maldito cobarde que eres."

Peter lowered himself to the floor as carefully as possible, using all two decades of experience. When his feet touched the ground, he crept towards the office, the pungent smell staining his suit.

Thankfully, Klyntarus was too focused on Miguel to notice him. Occasionally, narcissists were much easier to fight than competent people.

The door was melted like ice cream on a hot day, nothing more than squishy splinters.

On a desk that was soon to crumble was the damned sphere he should've stamped on before.

"Ahhhh, memories. That was a grand day. For me, of course. How is my old stomping ground? Been a while since I last visited."

That's right, big guy. Keep him distracted.

"Nueva was never yours. Nothing of my or any other dimension is."

Peter cracked his knuckles, uncertain how he was going to destroy it. It's already damaged; the parts strewn about were signs of an attempted repair.

All Peter had to do was undo the repairs. That should be simple enough. Right?

He picked up a crowbar lodged in the wall, potentially from a worker fighting for their life.

"It's cute that you believe that. It was always mine and always will be, just like you. You belong to me, 2099. You'll realise that soon enough."

What did Klyntarus mean by that? His damned curiosity was starting to interfere with the objective.

"I promised to kill you. I don't break promises."

"Aww, but you do, don't you? You broke the one to your whore mother and mistake of a daughter - I know you'll taste even sweeter than she did!"

Oh, fuck.

Miguel had a kid. He was a dad like Peter would be, and Klyntarus took that from him.

That's what he meant - isn't it? When he said that Klyntarus made him Spiderman. He took Miguel's family.

"Estás muerto!"

"Only on the inside, little Border Rat! And like little Gabrielle," he taunted, cackling like the lunatic he was.

So not only is he a genocidal dimension eater but racist, too. Great. A cherry on top of the corrupted cupcake.

Peter struck the sphere with the crowbar, hitting it as hard as possible.

He heard a demonic, distorted screech of surprise and rage. The ground under him started to rumble violently. He saw a black and red mass racing towards the office through the window, barrelling like a bat out of hell.

Glowing orange webs wrapped around the parasite, pulling him back.

With each strike, Peter could feel the integrity weaken, and sparks started to fly. His spidey senses were on fire, writhing with panic and terror.

His tingles screamed, forcing him to jump and stick to the ceiling. A spear-like tendril shot through the window, glass falling like spilt glitter. It reared back and went for Peter, trying to impale him.

He hadn't let go of the stupid sphere, digging his fingers so hard into it that they were beginning to bleed through his suit.

Peter pounced out of the doorway, swinging to the rafters. A thick tendril went after him but couldn't even graze his suit.

The spikes on Miguel's forearms had fused into blades, slicing through like a hot knife to butter.

"I will kill everything you hold dear!" Klyntarus vowed, chasing after Peter with astonishing speed.

Miguel leapt onto Klyntarus' "face", starting to sink instantly. He clawed at Klyntarus' eyes, following them whenever they moved to escape his onslaught.

"Go, now!" Miguel yelled, his mask disappearing. "¡Rápido, rápido!" his eyes were almost glowing as red as Klyntarus'.

Peter kicked a skylight open and started running.

Get somewhere high and far, beat this blasted thing and save the day. And don't you dare die, big guy.

As much as Peter wanted to go somewhere and focus only on destroying the sphere, he couldn't leave his comrade behind. It wasn't right.

It wasn't right when Peter left Miles behind. He should've treated the kid better. He can't change that, but he can do better now.

Klyntarus wanted Miguel alone. Unfortunately for him, Peter wasn't going to allow that.

Peter hopped to a rooftop, looking for somewhere to hide the sphere. He didn't know if it had an actual name; it didn't matter.

He found an old pigeon hutch-house thingy, and although it's about as flimsy as wet paper, it's still better than nothing. He carefully placed the ominous orb inside, hoping he wouldn't be the only Spiderman again.

It's nice to have someone like you around, even if they're a little prickly.

Great. It's somewhere safe.

Roughly.

Peter hurried back, worried at what that crazy thing could've done by now. He felt terrible leaving his houseguest alone, especially with how twisted Klyntarus was.

The skies began to open, rain falling with haste.

He was worried about MJ. He learned how vindictive Klyntarus was; it put her in grave danger. Their unborn child was at risk.

He didn't listen and was paying the price for it. He still wasn't.

Miguel told him to go, and here he was, running straight back to a fight he couldn't win. It would be wrong to leave someone behind to a monster like that. How could Peter ever live with himself knowing he let somebody die?

It's painful enough with his friends, his old captain, his uncle, his aunt - his entire family except for his best friend and soon-to-be child. Not even Felicia was around anymore.

He missed the other spiders - Noir, Peni, Porker, Gwen, Miles; they showed him he wasn't alone.

They taught him that he could be a better man.

That kid saved Peter's life in more ways than one. He gave Peter hope for the future again. He got Peter to face his fear of parenthood and wanted Miles to be the baby's middle name - that kid was an inspiration.

What would Miles think if Peter was told to run and didn't go back to help somebody? The hypothetical disappointment was terrifying.

He had somebody else to add to the list of fellow spiders.

In a way, spider people are a unique species, close but different to humanity. It's so weird - since he got bitten, he felt like he was the last of his kind, only to find others.

Peter crouched atop the warehouse roof, hearing the wrathful shrieking of Klyntarus inside. His spidey senses were terrified, demanding that he flee and never return as Miguel ordered.

Narrowing his eyes, Peter looked through the broken window, searching for any dark blue.

"Where is it, you revolting abomination?!" Klyntarus roared, smashing everything inside the warehouse. "Where!?"

Finally, Peter spotted his teammate.

Klyntarus had him pinned to the wall, writhing darkness constricting around him.

"Debajo del sofá!"

"Oh, you think you're being cute!?" Klyntarus seethed, tightening his hold.

"Soy tan mono!"

Peter needed to learn Spanish immediately.

In a rage, Klyntarus threw Miguel into the other wall, then slammed him into the floor with a tendril. With the velocity, Peter knew that it hurt, but even so, the other Spider was making fun of the parasite.

Yep, he's a spider.

He waited with his web-shooter at the ready. As expected, Klyntarus threw the other Spider again, and Peter fired.

The web attached to Miguel's back, and Peter pulled, his spider senses panicking as Klyntarus shrieked again.

"I told you to run," Miguel hissed as Peter aimed for the nearest building. "Why'd you come back?"

"Never leave a spider behind, twinkle toes!" Peter stated, feeling the roof under them start to shake. "That's not good."

A black tendril shot from behind Peter, wrapping around his arm and pulling him down. Although Miguel went to grab him, he only succeeded in scratching Peter's hand.

Those claws hurt!

"You!" Klyntarus roared, engulfing much of Peter's body with his mass. It burned, regardless of his superhuman endurance. "I will make you watch as I destroy everything you love, Parker!"

"I think you're mad at me," Peter snarked, despite the intense weight starting to crush his body.

"I h-AHH!" Klyntarus yelped, those horrid eyes twisting to... Why is Miguel biting his body!? "How dare-no, fuck, no!"

Light blue was growing through the red scars, burning the blackness around them. It quickly reached the part holding Peter, loosening the ironclad grip.

Klyntarus had no choice but to break away from the afflicted part, dropping Peter. The hot ash clung to Peter's suit, quickly hardening in the cold rain falling on them.

He felt hands pulling him as a distorted roar echoed in Peter's ears and the sound of crumbling.

Though his spidey senses were in a panic, Peter struggled to move.

Everything went dark for what felt like a few seconds.

When consciousness returned, he wasn't in a warehouse anymore - or he was, and lay in what remained. He tried to move, but having several tonnes of concrete on you sucks.

Peter's chest hurt, his hand burned like fire, and everything was too dark. His head was thundering.

Peter grumbled, feeling that his leg was stuck. He can move a little, meaning he isn't fully submerged; that's nice.

His eyes blinked, adapting to the lack of light. He saw red eyes, bright and vibrant, but his spidey sense wasn't reacting.

Even so, Peter hit the light.

"¡Ay, coño!"

Oh, shit!

"Miguel?" Peter panted, realising the spooky scars weren't around.

"Hijo de puta, who else?" Miguel hissed, "Try not hitting me while I keep us from being crushed. ¿Te parece bien?"

Everything hurts, but they're still alive.

"The hell happened, man?"

"Caused the building to collapse. You were stuck to the floor, so... I improvised."

When Peter's eyes were fully adapted, he saw what Miguel meant. The man was singlehandedly keeping the building from turning Peter into a paste.

He had it all pushing on his back, but he remained unwavering.

"You could've run," Peter said, unsure why he said it.

"Never leave a spider behind. That's what you said, araña testaruda."

He did. It felt good having that stupidity repaid.

By working together, they managed to push the concrete away, revealing the frigid rain.

Peter's entire body hurt, and he expected his comrade to feel the same.

He wanted a warm bath, hot cocoa, and to listen to MJ's dumb puns. Instead of dad jokes, they had mom jokes.

"Buddy, you allergic to hot cocoa?"

"¿Qué? What, is that a fruit?"

"We've got a lot of things to cross off a list, my guy."

A hot bath was more than warranted.

"My everything aches," Peter sighed, glancing at MJ as she brushed her teeth. "We made progress, at least."

"You two were pretty battered," MJ said, spitting minty spit foam into the sink. "Did you make progress against the evil goop or with Miguel?"

"Both."

"Hmm, there's a "but" in there."

"Miguel had a daughter. Klyntarus killed her. He taunted him about it." His best friend turned, sympathy and fear growing on her graceful features. "And he threatened us. I'm worried he'll come after you and our yet-to-be roommate."

It's an understandable fear, especially given what Klyntarus was.

He couldn't begin to know how Miguel felt. No wonder he was so furious with Peter.

Peter didn't even know the baby in MJ's organic oven, but he would die for them. He couldn't bare having that baby, and some sinister snot comes and takes them away forever.

"Do you think we should leave him alone for a bit?" she asked, wanting to be as accommodating as possible.

Her heart was even more gigantic than all forty-nine states combined.

On a side note, good for Hawaii for their independence.

"No," Peter answered, though he wasn't sure. "I think Klyntarus has kept him alone for long enough."

"I understand the holo-suit a lot more now. You don't need so much detergent to clean it. Also, I think he's allergic to that, too."

"We're gonna need a list."

"A lengthy one." Peter got up, cracking the aching bones in his back. With a sigh, MJ threw a towel into Peter's face. "I don't need to see your little Pete, and I doubt our guest does either."

"For the love of all that is holy, never call it that again."

"No promises."

Peter wrapped the towel around his waist, eager for some pop tarts.

MJ waved as Peter went to the kitchen, spotting their temporary housemate in the living room.

Although he'd like a nice snack, he wanted to see how his new buddy was doing.

He walked into the living room, amused that Miguel still had the sunglasses on.

"Concussion still there?"

"Photophobia," Miguel corrected, sounding tired. "Downside to perfect night vision."

"Do your eyes reflect?"

"Yeah. It's not great."

"And you've got fangs."

"I hate them."

"I think it's cool. You've got some venom that hurts him, too. Oh! Is that what a "Venom Burst" is? A bomb with your venom? That's cool."

Miguel grumbled, hiding his face in a pillow.

It's cool, though.

Where could Peter get fangs?

"Look, big guy, our door's open. We don't have a lock, but you get what I mean - I hope? If not, we're open to talk."

"About what?"

"How that motherfucker... I can only assume it's rough with MJ being pregnant."

"It was two years ago. That she..." he couldn't finish the sentence, but Peter knew what he meant.

Timewise, that would've made Miguel around twenty-five or twenty-four when she died.

"How old was she? If it's alright to ask."

"Eight."

"You were around seventeen or sixteen when you became a dad, huh?"

"How do you know that?"

"I have a thing with guessing people's ages. You look my age, but you're not."

"Well, fuck you too."

"I didn't mean it like that, big guy!" Peter said, quickly backtracking. "You've experienced a lot. That's what I meant."

"You could certainly say that. Is there a point to the inquiry? I'm tired. I don't want to talk about my dead family."

"Alright, let's have pop tarts and then sleep, possibly cry ourselves to sleep. Sound good?"

"Sure thing, little Pete."

That motherfucker has super hearing!?

While Peter should be mad, it's a little funny.

"Only if I get to call you little Miguel."

"Bite me."

"Is that an invitation or an insult?"

"Por el amor de Dios. I'll have something with cheese."

"Great, a toastie it is. I'll turn the lights down for you, big guy."

"Gracias."

He liked having Miguel here. The rapport was fun.

Special thanks to spider-the-bat for the borders!

#ao3 refugee #ao3fic #ao3 might be fucked #ao3 #atsv #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #oscar isaac is miguel o'hara #peter b parker x miguel o'hara #spiderdads #peter b parker #mj watson #bestie goals mj #plague of the spiderverse series #with thunder comes lightning

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vylad243 · 1 month

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OG Starlet!Vox anon back at it again- at this point I'm going to need to come up with a name so it gets easier to tell everyone apart, lol. Anyway, I did see the art and it's amazing! It was part of the reason I came back with more lore. Which I have some more of this time too!

Uhhh I think Vox would've been in his early twenties/late teens around the time he faked his death, actually. Maybe 19-22 age range, but seeing as Arrax anon mentioned it being one of his first productions I could definitely see his first acting role being in a show like that! Imagine young Vox speaking with a trans-atlantic accent (the same that Al has) and his own mannerisms because Vox grew up listening to his radio show... precious baby

Speaking of his "retirement" / fake death, I think that would have happened in a 'Gone Girl' sort of fashion: Vox suddenly goes missing one day, police and other Hollywood stars show up to his home and start to investigate it, finding signs of a struggle and bloodstains along with other incriminating evidence that suggest he might have been murdered or otherwise disposed of. This is of course before Vox's parents, sensing that their kid's 'dramatic exit' from the scene has gone too far, pays off the police to keep their mouths shut before Vox's father debuts his new heir to the business, who he refuses to show the face of. So Vox goes on like this for at least a decade or so without showing his face to anyone in the company until he's *actually* murdered by someone scheming to steal his image and company... at which point the public makes the connection between the missing starlet years back and the murdered company boss.

I also think it'd be a cool coincidence if the person wanting to murder him had also been a fan of his starlet self... though I guess that would land them in quite a bit of trouble once they made it down to Hell, what with Vox's new companions lol

(Also, I feel like Evelyn would be a good name for Vox's starlet self. Not really for any specific reason, but I just always think of the Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo when I think of Hollywood.)

Hello OG! All my anons need names, y'all should come up with them, or I'm gonna start naming you all and if you've seen my google docs names- no one wants me to name anything lol

The conspiracy theorists when Vox was alive would have gone savage trying to figure out the death case, especially with how good Vox played it off. I imagine someone found out the truth and was just passed on as 'an idiotic crackhead,' and I can just imagine how smug they were when the truth came out

Evelyn is a nice name. I used to call him Valentine and said he was born on Valentine's day then I remwmber Valentino's name and haven't thought of a new one since

#hazbin hotel #anonymous #vox hazbin hotel #hollywood star au #starlet au

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pinkroseblooms · 3 months

Text

Hippity-Hop into Your Heart

Summary: Usahara is all too happy to play the role of boyfriend so you can shake off a creep, but of course, the night ends with him developing an all too real crush. 4.1 k A/N: Art from Gaku Kaze! Usahara Tobikichi/F!Reader. I have a soft spot for this dumb bunny and I think he needs more love. Enjoy! TW: Stalking, cursing (mostly for reader getting called a b*tch by said stalker).

Usahara’s drunk. Again.

The night has hardly begun and he keeps slumping over the table, cheeks flushed and eyes bleary while he struggles to sit upright. “I wish I was funny.”

“I wish you were sober.” Uramichi slides another glass of water, moving aside the collection of empty shot glasses. “I thought we were only doing beer.”

“We should order motsu nikomi for him.” Kumatani suggests; he’s only on his third beer.

They did start a bit later than expected for a weeknight. There’s hardly anyone else at the tables around them; hopefully Usahara doesn’t end up getting them kicked out for disturbing the peace. A server comes around with their next round of beers and Kumatani speaks up to request more water while they look over their options for food.

“I want gyoza!” Usahara slurs. “And a girlfriend. Ugh. I really want a girlfriend.”

“You can have one of those things.” Kumatani glances at the paper menu. “Seeing as how gyoza’s on the menu and you’re a degenerate, let’s keep this based in reality.”

“I’m not a general!”

“Let’s leave him here.” Uramichi whispers, leaning over to Kumatani on his left. “He’ll pass out soon enough.”

“I’m drunk, not deaf.” Usahara grumbles; he sighs and sheds his jacket. “It’s hot. Can we get ice cream?”

“Why do you drink so much when you know you can’t handle booze?” Kumatani rests his chin on his hand. “If you think I’m paying your tab, you’ve got another thing-”

“Honey! There you are, sorry I’m late, I was stuck at the office.”

Usahara raises his head up; there’s a girl sliding into the booth seat next to him. For a split second, he thinks he might be having a hallucination, but you scoot closer and touch his arm with a strained smile. Not to mention Uramichi and Kumatani are also staring at him and you, visibly taken aback at this stranger joining their table, so Usahara is 100% positive the alcohol isn’t making him see things.

“I’m sorry.” You’re leaning in to whisper in his ear, still smiling but now your voice is considerably less cheerful. “A man’s been following me since I left my job.”

“What?” Usahara straightens up and stares at you, bewildered, trying to keep his tone low. “Did he come in?”

“He followed every time I changed directions.” You pretend to look at Uramichi and Kumatani but you’re actually sneaking a peek at the entrance. “He’s outside in the smoking area. I think he’s waiting.”

Usahara glances at the door; there is a man outside. It’s not easy to make his features out, but he can see him turn his head to look into the bar.

“I’m sorry to intrude.” You drop your fake smile. “This place is the closest building with people and I thought he would keep following me if I sat down by myself. Could I wait here until he leaves? I’ll pay for your next round.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Uramichi frowns. “Do you want to call the police?”

“No, I mean, what could they do?” You release your grip on Usahara’s arm and give him some space. “He could just say he’s going the same way as me. I just didn’t want him to know where I live.”

“I’m going out there.” Kumatani stands up.

“Oh please don’t!” You say hurriedly. “You really don’t have to get involved.”

“Scum like that need to have their asses kicked before they get the message. He looks weak.” Kumatani glares over at the door. “I’m not gonna be intimidated by some gross stalker.”

“But he could have a knife.” You say worriedly. “Even if he doesn’t, you’ll get in trouble for making things physical. Please, um…”

“Kumatani.” Usahara supplies. “He’s Kumatani, I’m Usahara, and that sad sack over there is Uramichi-”

“Kumantani, let’s use this drunk as a human shield.” Uramichi addresses the still standing Kumatani but his cold eyes are directly on Usahara’s. “If the creep has a knife, you’ll do your part as a concerned citizen, right?”

You glance around at the three of them. “Look, I already feel bad to bother you guys. I can get a ride; I doubt he’ll chase after a car, you know? I just,” you swallow hard; the last thing you want to do is start crying, not now in front of these strangers you had basically forced to be involved in this. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt, okay?”

“Alright.” Kumatani finally takes his seat. “You’ve got a good point.”

“You must have been scared.” Uramichi looks at you with some sympathy. “I’m not eager to do any heroics myself and I don’t blame you for not wanting to stir the pot. How far away is your work?”

“About ten minutes. I work for a family, well, a few different families in the area.” You explain; your teeth have stopped chattering and your heart has stopped pounding. “I actually do babysitting and cleaning jobs. Today the parents went out for a date: they offered to drive me home, but they had a few drinks at dinner and I didn’t want to spend money on a ride share app when my place is so close. I actually come here every now and then to wind down after work…I didn’t think I’d be coming in tonight to escape that asshole.”

“Uh, so," Usahara clears his throat. “Why did you sit next to me? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Dude.”

“Are you serious?”

“What?” Usahara holds up his hands as if to block himself from the death glares being shot his way. “Just curious!”

“The seat next to you was empty.” You answer honestly. “Why else would I?”

“Because I’m…cute?” Usahara grins but it fades as you raise an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. Okay, no more joking: are you hungry? You might as well eat something, my treat.”

“I thought you were broke?” Kumatani snips. “I told you, I’m not covering your tab.” he turns to you. “Order what you want.”

“Ice cold.” Usahara crosses his arms. “I just so happen to have some extra funds. I helped my folks in their store earlier, so they floated me a few bucks.” he winks at you. “Since I’m playing your boyfriend, I should treat my girl to something nice.”

“You made your poor parents pay you for helping them?” Uramichi shakes his head somberly. “I didn’t think you could sink lower.”

“They insisted! I’m not gonna turn down money in this economy.”

“Don’t blame the economy for your piss poor spending habits.”

“They’re so mean.” Usahara pouts to you. “Aren’t you going to stand up for your boyfriend?”

You look at him for a moment before your face breaks out into a smile, a real one. Before you can stop, a laugh escapes you and you keep laughing until you start wheezing slightly.

“Wow, I think you broke her psyche.” Uramichi comments lightly.

“I’m so-sorry, really, I don’t mean to laugh at you!” Your voice cracks as you press your hands to your mouth. “Usahara? I’m sorry, you’ve all been so great to help me out.”

“I’m glad.” Usahara smiles bashfully, rubbing the back of his head; he realizes he must seem hilariously pathetic, but hey, it’s not like this is a real date. “If you’re laughing, it means you’re feeling better, yeah?”

Your giggles die off and you wipe your eyes. “I am.” with a deep sigh, you’re able to calm down and breathe normally. “I was really scared. Thank you. I feel better mostly.”

“You need a good laugh, I’m your guy.” Usahara hands you his untouched glass of water. “Here, it’s just plain water. Do you want a beer or something?”

“You know what? I could use a drink.” You confess tiredly. “So, what brings you guys here?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly two hours pass in the blink of an eye; Usahara plays his role well. He pours you drinks, stays close, but not too close to you, and even hand fed you a couple of snacks. To the casual observer, the four of you would never know you were all strangers.

Despite the cordial mood, Usahara kept up the charade, just in case the man outside was still lurking around, though they haven’t seen his profile in the window for some time now. It’s an unfortunate truth that some men will only back off if they know a girl already has a boyfriend who can potentially beat them up. Usahara, although not quite as intimidating looking in comparison to his friends, is the tallest and he does spend a good amount of time training on his own. He’s confident that if nothing else, all three of them are more than enough to take down one shady weirdo.

It’s too bad though. Usahara can't smother the twinge of bit guilt he feels at how much fun he’s having; there’s no need for him to put up a front or try to play it cool since this is very much not a date. There’s no pressure to look good in front of you, so Usahara can relax and not think about what he says too much or how he holds himself.

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“It’s awesome!” You tell him excitedly, hands grabbing onto his arm as if to shake sense into him. “An absolute classic, how the heck have you never heard of Killer Clowns from Another Dimension? Do you even watch movies?”

“Sometimes” Usahara sips a new glass of water you made him order. “I can’t believe you’re judging me.”

“I saw it.” Kumatani raises his hand. “The effects are next level.”

“A man of culture.” You give him a thumbs up. “This guy knows. Uramichi, make Usahara apologize.”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Uramichi drones. “I don’t get what any of you are saying.”

“Now who needs to watch more movies.”

“I saw one recently.” Uramichi cocks his head to the side. “It was a comedy; some idiot didn’t know when to stop running his mouth so his co worker buries him alive.”

“That’s a horror movie! If I go missing, you’re gonna be the first one the cops talk to.” Usahara clings to your arm. “Babe, tell him to leave me alone.”

“If you coddle him, he’ll never learn to shut his trap.”

“There, there, honey bunny.” You pat Usahara’s head lightly. “I promise to light a candle for you until they find the body.”

“You won’t even look for me?!”

“I think it’s more likely you’ll be disposed of by some loan sharks.” Kumatani deadpans but even he has a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Keep up the gambling and you’ll be found in a river instead of a shallow grave.”

“You guys are terrible and when I hit the jackpot none of you are seeing a cent.” Usahara tells them before leaning his head on your shoulder, sticking his tongue out at the both of them. “She’s been way nice to me and we only just met.”

“Because she doesn’t know how insufferable you are yet.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” You glance down at Usahara as he gives you puppy eyes. “He’s doing a pretty good job of letting me know.”

“Babe, not cool.”

“Sorry, honey.” You giggle and poke his flushed cheek; it’s funny how comfortable you feel right now and you don’t think it’s because of the beers. Maybe it’s because Usahara has no filter; you were so tense before, yet now you’re joking and chatting like this was the plan, to show up and hang out with these odd characters. “So, what would you do if you won the lottery?”

“Hm…”

“You should pay your rent on time.” Uramichi remarks; he’s eating his own plate of mackerel, sashimi style. “It would be nice to never have to get up for work again.”

“I want to take time off and buy a boat.” Kumatani closes his eyes. “Just floating out to sea, nice and quiet, fresh saltwater air.”

“Lame.”

“Usahara.” You smack his shoulder lightly. “Knock it off.”

“Hey why are you defending that jerk?”

“This jerk is going to leave you to pay for all our food and drinks if you keep running your mouth.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” You shake your head somberly in disapproval as Usahara sulks. “Apologize or you’re sleeping on the couch, mister.”

“You sound more like a naggy wife than a cute girlfriend…”

“What’s that?”

“Sorry.” Usahara bows his head. “Sorry, Kumatani.”

“Good one.” Kumantani reaches over to refill your glass with a fresh pour of beer. “I’ll lend you the Man-Eating Salmon boxset if you can keep him quiet for the rest of the night.”

Usahara sips his water as you grin at Kumatani; oh well. He gets it. On paper, Kumatani makes sense: even he admits, it was pretty cool how Kumatani was going to go out there and take on that creep head on. It’s not Usahara’s style; he’s scared to get beat up and can barely throw a punch. Sue him. Still, it stings that even on this pretend date, Kumatani is still showing him up.

“Hey guys?” It’s Uramichi that breaks the silence. “I think that creep got tired of waiting.”

They all look to the door; it’s not clear at first, but from your shaken expression, it’s apparent the man who’s made his way inside the bar is the same one who was stalking you. The smile is gone from your face; he’s approaching the table with an almost apologetic smile. He looks like a fairly normal person, to Usahara’s slight surprise, not like a thug or anything. Hell, he looks more intimidating.

“Sorry to bother you, but I was hoping to get your number?”

“What?” You sink into your seat. “That’s why you followed me?”

“Followed? I didn’t do anything like that.” The man looks surprised. “I go here all the time. I just saw you, thought I’d shoot my shot, you know? Besides, I don’t need anyone’s permission to come inside and have a drink-”

“Excuse me, but we’re trying to have dinner.” Usahara stares at the man blankly. “We saw you out there. If you just came to eat here coincidentally, why were you lurking outside?”

“I wasn’t-”

“Cut the bullshit.” Kumatani glares at the man, grip tightening on his mug like he wants to smash it against the offending stranger’s head. “Get the hint already, asshole.”

“You’re making everyone uncomfortable.” A dark look crosses Uramichi’s face; he’s poised as though he’s about to rise from his chair. “I think you ought to leave. She’s not interested.”

“Let her tell me herself-”

“She shouldn’t have to talk to some freak hounding her in the dark.” Usahara takes his jacket and drapes it over your shaking shoulders; he puts his arm around you. “You’re bothering my girlfriend; who do you think you are? She doesn’t owe you shit.” he forces himself to temper his anger and speaks to you gently. “Don’t feel like you have to say anything, okay babe? You haven’t done anything; it’s not your fault this loser is bugging you.”

“Fuck you.” The man snaps, posture rigid; he’s shaking, but he doesn’t move any closer. “I didn’t do anything, this bitch-”

“Don’t call her that!” Usahara stands up, but doesn’t try to attack the man; he stands in front of you, arms out slightly to obscure you from the stranger’s eyes. “You can either get your ass handed to you by my buddies-”

“Really? What are we, you bodyguards?”

Usahara ignores Kumantani’s dry stare. “-or leave in handcuffs.” he makes sure you’re blocked from view. “Your choice.”

“Go to hell.”

But the confrontation ends there. With a sneer, the man storms out of the bar, rather quickly in fact; one of the staff members comes out from behind the counter with a concerned frown and asks if she needs to call the cops. Kumatani explains the situation and Uramichi actually goes himself to check if the man is just hiding around the corner of the bar. Usahara stays with you; despite how relieved you are, tears come to your eyes, dripping down your face.

“It’s okay.” Usahara hands you some napkins. “Do you need these?”

“Thank you.” You sniff and blow your nose into the offered napkins, but the tears aren’t stopping. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t even tell that asshole off, it was like I couldn’t even speak. I feel so dumb for being scared.”

“Not gonna lie, I was kinda scared too; Uramichi still has him beat in the dead eyed stare competition though.” Usahara chuckles; he tentatively holds one of your hands; your palm is clammy and your fingers are cold. “Sorry you had to go through that. I really thought he had left; I think the owner’s gonna call the cops anyway, dude seemed unhinged.”

“Oh, your jacket,”

“You can hold onto it. Your hand’s freezing.” Usahara ignores the slight chill he feels as you squeeze his hand. “You want me to get you a hot tea or something? Sorry, I have no clue what to do for these kinds of situations.”

“You’ve done more than enough.” You smile at him; your cheeks and eyes are red and puffy. “Thank you; the only reason I was able to feel okay at all is because of you guys being so kind. I’m so sorry for all this.”

Usahara feels bad for your gratitude; he’s also angry. He’s half tempted to go outside himself and chase after that creep, but more than that, he could cry himself from how sad you look, how you actually felt like you had to apologize for someone else's horrible actions.

“Don’t apologize. Hell, I didn’t do anything.” Usahara has to stop himself from trapping you in a big bear (bunny?) hug. “Look, do you want one of us to take you home? It’s past midnight and sometimes you get creepy drivers on that app if you request a ride this late at night.” Usahara averts his eyes to the table, trying to sound assuring despite the pit forming in his stomach. “Kumatani seems grumpy, but you won’t find anyone more reliable and Uramichi is a decent guy, even if he mopes a lot. They’ll keep you safe on your way home.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

You look nervous. “I trust you…of course, you’ve already helped me so much. I can walk home alone, I’ll pretend to be on the phone.”

“No, not at all!” Usahara scrambles to talk. “I’d be totally okay walking you home! Just leave it to Tobikichi Usahara, you won’t have anything to worry about!”

“Are you trying a stand up routine?” Uramichi reenters the booth, unmoved by Usahara’s objections. “Anyway, I think he’s really gone this time, but the owner’s still going to call the police and have them take a look around. I guess this isn’t the first time they’ve had a problem, she’s pretty sure it’s the same guy too. With any luck, he won’t be bothering anyone again.”

“I hope so.” You wipe your eyes. “Thank you, Uramichi; where’s Kumatani?”

“Settling your tab.”

“What?!” You gap at him, almost expecting this to be a joke. “That’s way too much, I was going to pay for you guys-”

“Give it a rest.”

“Uramichi!” Usahara is scandalized. “This is why girls don’t talk to you.Would it kill you to show a little tact? She's upset.”

“Are you seriously telling me that? Who asked you anyway? Look, I’m just saying, it’s no trouble.” Uramichi’s eyes soften a smidge as he looks at you. “Don’t get me wrong, I really hope this never happens again, but tonight was almost fun.”

Kumatani approaches the table, tucking away what you assume is a receipt in his wallet. “Let’s finish up and call it a night: Usahara, you owe me half the tab.”

“Saw that coming.” Usahara shrugs and manages a weak smile. “Fair enough; but I’m only paying for her and my stuff.”

“Okay.” Kumatani chuckles. “I expected you to put up a fuss like usual. We should invite your girlfriend out every time we get drinks.”

“Dude!” Usahara’s already flushed face turns bright red. “Jokes on you, I’m never inviting you guys out with us.” he sends you a lopsided grin. “If I win the jackpot, it’ll be dinner for two, wherever you want to eat.”

“Actually,” You fiddle with the sleeve of his jacket. “I was hoping we could all do this again sometime; you know, without the looming threat of being stalked. Is that weird?”

“You want to put up with us again?” Kumatani asks, but you can tell he’s mostly teasing.

“I guess.” Uramichi concedes. “It’s nice to have a buffer.”

“Buffer? What, so you can ignore me and get drunk in peace?” Usahara sighs dramatically. “Well, that’s fine with me; having another person around makes your mood swings less stressful-ow, ow, ow! I’m sorry, I give up, you’re not moody!”

Uramichi stops grinding his fists on either side of Usahara’s temples. “Just take her home already and try not to fall over in the street.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, that’s us.” Usahara laughs somewhat embarrassed. “Did you really have fun tonight?”

“Yeah.” You say honestly; you’re leading the way to your apartment, walking slow. “You’re looking pale; do you always drink that much?”

“....yeah…” Usahara admits reluctantly. “I know, I know, I’m a mess.”

“Without a doubt.”

“So mean…”

“But you’re very nice.” You offer him with a half smile. “And brave.”

“Me?”

“Uh huh.”

Usahara stares at you from the corner of his eye; the street lights overhead shine a dim glow on your hair and face. You’re still wearing his smelly old jacket, a grease stain on the front from dropping fried chicken on himself the other day. It looks better on you.

“Uh oh.” Usahara could slap himself. “Dude, not cool. She’s been through enough tonight. You were pretending so she could feel safe. It’s not like she actually wants to date you. Don’t let yourself get caught up in the moment. She’s a nice girl who needed your help and as it stands, she doesn’t think you’re a complete loser. Let’s keep it that way and call this a win.”

“This is me.” You come to a stop in front of a complex Usahara has gone past quite a few times before. “I’d invite you in for tea, but I should be going to bed. Can I give you my number? If you want to hang out again sometime.”

“Sure thing.” Usahara switches phones with you. “Call, text, whatever; let me know when you’re free.”

“I’ll do that.” You nod and hand him back his cellphone. “Wait, don’t go yet.”

Usahara was about to leave. “Is everything alright? I can wait until you get inside to-”

“You’re sweet.” You take off his jacket, putting it around his shoulders; you peck his jaw, not quite able to reach his cheek. “Next time, maybe we can go on a real date?”

“Am I passed out at the bar?” Usahara touches the spot where you had pressed your soft lips against his skin. “Sorry, let me get this straight: you want to see me again? Me, Usahara, specifically? For a date? Like a ‘date-date’?” he frowns, examines your face carefully. “Are you drunk? I don’t want to take advantage, I mean, you might have second thoughts later, which is totally okay, I-I don’t mind just being friends-!”

“I am a bit tipsy, but I don’t think that’s affecting anything.” You smile a little. “Maybe you should text me first thing in the morning? Just to make sure.”

“I’ll probably be super hungover.” Usahara looks at you like you’re too good to be real. “I usually go to this breakfast place, if you’re interested. It’s a cheap spot but the food’s good. Sorry, I-”

“Are you treating?”

“Yes! And I’ll pick you up?” Usahara is on pins and needles, utterly failing to reign in his excitement. “I have a spare helmet, if you don’t mind riding on a motorcycle. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“It’s a date.” You start to walk away. “Tell the guys I said thank you, again. Do you think they’ll want to get breakfast too?”

“NO!” Usahara hates how his voice pitches so high in panic; he looks down at the ground, a little ashamed of himself, but not enough to be unselfish. He really is shameless. “At least for this time, I want it to be just us. You can see for yourself if I’m worth your time; I swear, you won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You smile playfully. “Honey bunny.”

Usahara blushes so much he thinks his face might be on fire, waving in a daze as you disappear into your apartment.

“Oh crap." It almost hurts how hard Usahara's smiling as he thinks about seeing you again. "I'm so screwed.”

#usahara tobikichi #usahara tobikichi x reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #ao3 fanfic #uramichi oniisan #life lessons with uramichi oniisan #big brother uramichi #uramichi omota #kumatani mitsuo #fluff #slight angst #one shot #meet cute

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explicit-tae · 2 years

Text

Public Enemy (Part 3)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Smut , Angst, Detective/Mafia!Namjoon Detective!Reader

Warnings: nipple play/sucking, fingering, unprotective sex, edging, breeding kink, creampie, manipulation,

Word Count: 9,532

Description: Your life was going great. You’ve been promoted from police officer to detective - something you’ve worked hard for. Your first case was to solve a murder of a local drug dealer brought to the hospital who you suspect foul play from.

You trailed inside the large building, your eyes scanning the large ceilings windows displaying the sunny day sky and adding a great amount of natural light to the area. The flooring was marble and you noticed the heels of your shoes clacking against it. The walls were white and covered with many paintings - some colorful and some going for a more neutral tone of greys and blacks.

The art gallery opened not too long ago in the heart of Seoul. The amount of people inside already admiring the work in hushed tones was enough to know that whoever this belonged to had to be popular and ooze out wealth and luxury. You placed your hands in your jacket pocket and hum lowly to yourself as your eyes glance to a couple - one man with blond hair and a bright smile, his hands lowly placed on the woman next to him - the same woman you were here to see.

"Excuse me?" you smile as you get the attention of the couple. "All of this art is so amazing. Do you know the owner, by chance?" you ask, though you know your answer.

The woman smiles brightly, her eyes glancing up at the man who does the same down to her. "We are the owners." she tells you, a nervous look on her face.

"Just her." the man says, he pulls her close. "I'm just a supportive partner. Which piece is your favorite? She's painted all of them."

You hum, surprised. The amount of art displayed here was amazing, but the fact in knowing that she painted each piece was astonishing. It appeared as if it was years of hard work - now paying off.

"Wow," you look at her intently. "your work is amazing, truly. Do you mind if I speak with you about one of your pieces?"

The man steps away with a nod of his head. The two of you stroll away, your body feeling the mans gaze on you.

"I'm sure you had an abundance of buyers." you make small talk as you halt in front of a painting. "You truly are amazing."

The woman laughs lowly and offers a polite nod. "I do. I'm new to all of this so selling my art is not something I can do at the moment."

You furrow a brow and nod along with her. "New. I see." you glance behind her to the man - who you assume is her new boyfriend. "You moved on fast." you tell her.

"E-Excuse me?" she murmurs, her smile lowering.

"You moved on from Shin." You tell her. "For the better, of course, Shin couldn't do all this, surely."

You watch as the girl is taken aback, her mouth opening and closing as if attempting to find the correct words to say to you. She doesn't - but you knew well enough that she would rather not be in your presence.

"My name is Y/L Y/N." you tell her. "Detective. I'm investigating the murder of your boyfriend. Well, ex boyfriend." you say, scanning her features for any hints she could possibly give you.

"I-I...Shin has been dead for months." she tells you, shaking her head. "You're investigating now?"

You shrug. "You know what they say. Rome wasn't built in a day." you offer a smile. "Neither was this art gallery. How did you obtain it on a student salary?"

She steps back, the look of terror evident in her eyes. It was as though you had accused her of murder - you hadn't yet, but the poor girls mind was already there. "Wait, I forgot. You are no longer a student." you step closer to her. "I spoke to the University of Seoul and they informed me that you were expelled. And you quit your job not too long after that."

"Is there something you're trying to say, Detective?" the woman is in disbelief.

"Well, as part of the investigation is to speak with those involved with the victim."

"Shin was no victim." she hisses but the way her eyes widen, the look of realization kicks into her. She knew she shouldn't had said that.

"Ah, but you are." you nod. "I know the situation about the other women. A total of 4 is hectic." you cross your arms. "Surely anyone would be angered."

She nods her head, her eyes on the ground. "I...was. I didn't think I would be in that situation." she admits.

"I can't imagine what I'd do in that situation, either." you watch her expression for anything you can pick up on. "If it was me, I'd be glad he was gone."

The girl places her eyes back on you. You tilt your head

"I know he moved weight around Seoul. Got into it with pretty shady people, right?"

The woman shakes her head, she takes another step back.

"It's safe to say that maybe they caused this. He was nothing but a low-level drug dealer moving the product for the higher ups? Disposable."

"I-I don't understand-"

"So disposable that you wouldn't care if he lived or died."

"That's not how-"

"I mean, after all, he cheated on you with other women. Left you with nothing."

"I'm aware that-"

"Things seem easier after his death, don't you think?"

"Is everything alright?" the man enters between the two of you, his arms now wrapped around his girlfriend. He offers you a tight (fake) smile. "Is she trying to buy a piece?"

You know his tone is evident - you weren't welcome here anymore. You shake your head. "No, I'm a detective."

"Oh," the man is taken aback, but his eyes scan over your figure. "I knew you looked familiar."

You furrow a brow. "Excuse me?" you question.

"Jimin..." the girl murmurs, shaking her head. "I need to go to the restroom. Excuse me, Detective." she appears sick and queasy as she strolls away.

Jimin, you recalled that name. Said man turns towards you, his lips turning to a straight line. "Can I help you, Detective?"

"Just doing my job." you tell him. "Investigation calls."

"Ah, does it?" Jimin scoffs. "Why are you interrogating my girl? She's been through enough."

"Is there a reason I shouldn't? She's apart of the investigation, Jimin-ssi."

Jimin furrows a brow. He tilts his head. "You look different when you aren't at my club. More...stressed. Bland." he shakes his head. You bite your tongue, taken back by his words. "Surely after that night with my Hyung you wouldn't act as such."

Your throat dries as he gives you a satisfied smirk. "Tell Namjoon-hyung that I'll be speaking with him shortly. And you're always welcomed at my club, Y/N-ah." Jimin turns away slightly. "Just tell the bouncers who you're bouncing on, okay?"

"Y/N?" Namjoon asks over the loud music of the club. He ponders why his brothers decided to meet here instead of anywhere else. Namjoon parts ways with his brothers, a sigh leaving his lips. He shakes his head - already knowing what Jimin would be doing in there in no time. He had enough of his brothers and their love interests tonight. From Jungkook having a gun to his head to Jimin getting a bottle crashed upon his own head - he didn't want to hear what Taehyung and his own girl was into.

"Namjoon-ssi!" your cheeks redden at the familiar face. You stand straighter, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. "W-What are you...um, hello." you bite back your question, finding it idiotic. He was doing the same as you - possibly better.

The night was young for you. You weren't a partier by any means necessary and if you knew yourself enough, you'd know you would possibly end the night early. However, your sister wouldn't allow that so you'd remain here until they closed - unfortunately for you.

"Here!" your sisters screams into your ear over the loud music. She passes you a shot glass with clear liquid in it. "We need a shot of celebration!"

You smile awkwardly at Namjoon who offers you a smile in return. "I see. You're celebrating your promotion." he tells you.

Your sister notices Namjoom now and tilts her head. She eyes you and then him before offering a sinister smile. You knew that smile - and it wasn't anything good.

"Who are you?" she asks (rudely) to Namjoon, who ignores her rudeness and bows his head.

"Kim Namjoon." he tells her. "Detective alongside your sister."

She nods her head, the gears in her mind turning. She glances at you and before you can tell her to not speak, she does. "So you're the hot detective she wants to fuck-"

You managed to grab your sister's neck, wide eyes and mortified. She drops her shot glass on the ground, but you don't care. She hisses as you drag her away. "Are you crazy?" you scream at her as you enter the restroom, a few women leaving as you entered. "I have to work with him!"

Your sister massages her neck, a glare on her eyes. "So?" she retorts. "You need to get fucked. Give that vibrator a break."

You shoot her a glare, your hands inching to strangle her. However, you didn't need a scandal when you just managed to become a detective. You take a breath and look at her. "I understand. But out of all people there, my superior? How can I see him at work when you're drunk exposing me?"

Your sister laughs, her giggles irritate you. "Okay, I'm sorry." she says, hands up in surrender. "But, if not him at least someone. You're going to be a detective and you'll be even busier." she turns to look at herself in the mirror, fixing her hair as she spoke. "Let loose just for tonight."

Namjoon waits close when you drag your sister away, embarrassed. He had licked his lips when he admired your body in the dress. He has seen you many times for years now, the suits or officer uniforms, never in casual clothing or something so sensual as now. You wore a silk, burgundy dress that stopped mid thigh, backless and the way your breast pushed together, it was amazing how he managed to keep his eyes on your face. Your heels looked painful, but all heels did to a man, but the way they straps wrapped up your ankles he deems complete the look.

"Y/N-ah." Namjoon's voice interrupts you as you walk out the restroom, your sister slipping past the two of you and throws a wink over her shoulders. "Are you alright?"

You laugh nervously, not expecting to see him again for the rest of the night. You had full intentions of ignoring his prescence all together. "I'm okay, Namjoon-ssi." you assure. "I was just leaving eventually."

"Leaving?" Namjoon furrows a brow. "So soon?"

You nod. "Clubs aren't really...my thing." You were awkward now and mentally slapped yourself. Namjoon was an intimidating man, his eyes pierced into yours and even though he was just that, intimidating and full of masculinity, he was a man after all. An attractive man with broad shoulders, tall and muscular physique. The dimples and the smile was another thing added onto the plate that made Kim Namjoon, and you had to leave before you ended up on your knees for him.

"Same." Namjoon offers that smile to you, the smile you adored because his dimples popped and his eyes squinted. "I'm here with my brothers after all."

You nod. "My sister is around here somewhere." your eyes scan the crowded club for your sister to find her at the bar with a man. Your head tilts as you see the man dip down to her ear and whisper something to her.

"Ah," Namjoon hums. "Yoongi-hyung has found her."

"That's your brother?" you ask. Your sister was her own woman so you wouldn't stop her from doing anything, but that also didn't mean you were going to leave without her. It wasn't the first time you waited for your sister while she fucked her brains out - unfortunatly.

"Yes. He doesn't usually entertain anyone here." Namjoon knows the glint in Yoongi's eyes, it was the same one he notices in Jungkooks, Jimins and now Taehyung. The fire that drove them towards a woman - possibly the same glint in his eyes when he looks towards you. "Do you want to...dance?"

Namjoon wasn't much of a dancer - that wasn't to say he couldn't, he just didn't prefer to if it wasn't jokingly. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you, but he was willing to if that's what you wanted to do.

You gulp and shake your head. "I-I'm not much of a dancer." you kick yourself in the leg mentally, the act of dancing closely with Namjoon was the moment you needed. Yet, you weren't drunk enough to be that close and not feel nervous. "We can drink? Maybe until my sister is ready to go."

That wouldn't be anytime soon, Yoongi had already sat her on his lap as she downs shots, his eyes sparkling.

You were more surprised to know that Namjoon took you to a private room, the lights dim and atmosphere much quieter. You let out a sigh of relief as you sit upon the leather couch. Namjoon takes a seat beside you. Since it was only the two of you in the private room, your nose catches his scent. It's an earthy scent that smells heavenly fresh and refreshing, clean. Namjoon always smelt the best when it came to the men at work - maybe it was his age. The man you worked with in your department always smelt flat and bland, no hint of freshness or livliness to them.

"Shot?" Namjoon asks. Theres bottles scattering around the large round table with a few shot glasses. He grabs a random bottle, not bothered with looking at the name of it before he's pouring two shots. He hands you yours with a small smirk on his lips.

You take it in your hands nervously. With a small nod, you both down the shot. It's smooth, yet still hits your throat. It makes you feel warm and soon, you and Namjoon are taking shots back to back, both smiling and laughing. You felt more relaxed to be around him, your mind hazy instead of conscious and always on the lookout. You two talk between shots - about anything. Work, hobbies. He speaks of his brothers just as highly as you speak of your sister.

Your mind couldn't help but do back flips when Namjoon removes his suit coat, the tight fitted black shirt he wore underneath did things to you. It shots a warth straight to your core and now you're clenching your legs together like an obsessed school girl.

"Are you alright?" you hear Namjoon's voice but your head doesn't register it fast enough. Your hands have a mind of it's own when you reach out to touch his tone chest. Namjoon chuckles, his large hands place itself on yours. "You're having fun now. I like it."

You nod your head, eyes now meeting his. You gulp. His eyes are share when they stare into you.

"Do you need something?" Namjoon speaks after an intense staring match. He leans closer, his eyes scanning your lips. "You're tensing up again."

You lick your lips and snap your head away from him, cheeks reddening.

"You're supposed to be having fun." Namjoon quips.

"I am." you assure.

"We can have more fun." you feel Namjoon's hands on your knee, he doesn't take his chance to go higher until he knows you feel the same as him. "Would you like to have fun with me, Y/N?"

Your head is nodding frantically, seemingly desperate. You were tipsy so you ignored it. Namjoon lets his lips smile, the dimples on his cheeks making you flush.

"Come here." Namjoon taps your knee, hands reaching to your outer thigh. He motions for you to sit on top of him and you do. You can feel his bulge when you sit on him. "Kiss me."

And you do, your mind twirling. You couldn't believe what you were doing. Any relationship outside of friendship when it came to co-workers was prohibited by you - even when it was Kim Namjoon, the attractive detective who happened to be your superior. You couldn't allow any distractions or rumors to have you caught up.

But, Namjoon was a good distraction for the night. His hands rubbed along your exposed thighs and settled them on your hips afterwards. He grips upon them and starts to move you at a slow pace against his clothed cock. Your tongues are dancing against one another, hot and hungry for one another. Your own hands feel upon his chisled chest, then to his biceps; admiring the solid figure he possessed.

"Let me taste you." Namjoon heaves. He breaks the kiss, his hands roaming to your breast. He grips them, not waiting for an answer before aggressively pulling them out. He moans, his eyes darkening at the sight of your exposed, hard nipples. His tongue reaches out to swirl around them, his breathing increasing at the sweet melody of your moans. He pops them from his mouth after a few minutes, eyes dark when he glances up at your flushed appearance.

Namjoon grabs the alcohol bottle once more, bringing it to your lips. He enjoyed the tipsy part of you that didn't stiffen and shy away, much like himself. He tilts it to have you sip from the light liquid. You do, droplets falling from the corner of our mouth and down your chin, to your neck and your exposed breast. You giggle at the feeling.

Namjoon's tongue licks up the droplets, not having any self control. He trails his tongue back up to your mouth, his tongue on your lips. His right hand grips your ass while his left squeezes your breast. You let out a few swear words, Namjoon being the first man you been with in a while and the experience - while intoxicated - was amazing.

"I want you naked." Namjoon's voice is deep and rushed, leaving no time for you to react before he's tugging at the burgundy dress, leaving you in nothing but the thong you wore for the night and the strapped heels. Feeling your naked skin beneath him while he was fully clothed gave him the control he needed, he craved for, when it came to you. "You're so beautiful for me, Y/N." he murmurs against your flushed skin.

Namjoon now knows that he loves to touch you, but adores licking you. There was something in the way you squirmed and moaned when his tongue touched your skin. It encouraged him to continue, his tongue licking your nipples, your shoulder, between your thighs - wherever it led him. Now, his tongue has led itself to your clothed clit. You widen your legs for him to adjust perfectly between them. He places a kiss, his eyes watching you suck in a breath, before he moves the the panties to the side and marvels at how wet you were.

Your back arches when Namjoon's tongue flicks against your clit. He doesn't waste any time in devouring your clit, his sucking aggressive and loud. He had your knees pinned to your shoulders - because why did you keep trying to close your legs as if he was done with you? His hair bounces with him when he hastily shakes it from side to side, tongue sucking against your clit.

Namjoon tried to hold back, he did. He didn't want to be too aggressive for the first time with you. He wanted to be gentle, show you how he felt when it came to the beauty that was you. Maybe after the first few times then he would show you just how he wanted you. But the alcohol in his system, the lack of sex and the way you appeared filthy for him - moaning and grunting his name, begging for him to allow you a release...it made something in his flip. He was going to fuck you tonight - the way he desired for far too long.

Namjoon removes himself from your clit just as your orgasm was hitting in. You cry out, your pussy clenching around nothing. Namjoon chuckles darkly. He kisses your lips, your juices coating your lips as it does his. "Were you about to cum?"

You nod, eyes low.

"Why would I let you cum, Y/N?" Namjoon tsks. He hovers above you, his fingers trailing around your entrance. "You didn't even ask."

"Please." you moan, not caring if you sound desperate at this point. Your desire for Namjoon over the years had all poured out in one night. "Please make me cum, Namjoon-ssi."

Namjoon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He had to stop himself from fucking you right now - he had to be patient with you.

"I will." Namjoon chuckles. "After you promise to give me what I want."

"I promise." you cry out, feeling Namjoon's fingers enter you. He starts off with a punishing pace, your walls clenching around his fingers. His tongue is on your clit, rubbing it as his fingers pound inside of you. "I-I promise, Namjoon-ssi."

You aren't aware of your words, agreeing to whatever the man wanted as long as he made you cum - maybe it was dangerous, but you weren't scared. You felt utterly protected now with Namjoon and your intoxicated mind would give him whatever your sober mind wouldn't.

Namjoon removes his fingers from inside of you. He slaps your clit roughly, chuckling at your scream. You were now twitching, your orgasm left behind once more. "P-Please, Namjoon-ssi." theres tears in your eyes and if your sober self could look at you, you'd be humiliated and ashamed.

Namjoon tilts his head at you. "Do you promise to give me whatever I want, Y/N?" he murmurs.

You nod hastily.

Namjoon tuts. He leans closer to your ear. "I want your pussy wrapped around me." Your breathing quickened. You wanted that, as well. The idea of Namjoon filling you up made you wetter.

Namjoon plays with his belt before shoving his pants down, the sight of his bulge makes you licks your lips. "Can I suck it?" you slur, trying to get on your knees before he can respond.

Namjoon stops you. "Next time." he says with a dimpled smirk. "I want to fill you up now."

And you allow him, opening your legs so he could do just that. Your mind doesn't question anything, not even if a condom was involved. All you do know is that Namjoon's pushing into you and you've never felt so whole before. "Shit," Namjoon hisses, his eyes blownout. "you're so tight."

Namjoon enters you fully when you respond, "I haven't had sex in a while." you admit.

Namjoon buckles his hips. He knows, of course, but to hear you say it makes his heart (and cock) leap. He thrusts a few times to get you accustomed to him before he quickens his pace. The filthy sounds of your pussy are evident throughout the quiet room, you don't hold back any of your moans. Namjoon's eyes couldn't help but watch you - the way your lips are opened wide to release the strings of moans. Your breasts are bouncing in unison of his thrusts. He grunts, his mind imagining how they would look full of milk; how your stomach would look carrying his child.

His left hand strokes your stomach, his imagination running while. You'd look perfect for him, round carrying his child he'd fucked into you. Your breast would be swollen with the milk you needed to feed his child. You'd look so beautiful.

Namjoon removes himself once more, you weren't going to cum until he allowed you to.

Namjoon wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing enough for you to look at him. When your eyes meet his he has to stop himself from fucking you. "Why should I let you cum, Y/N? You haven't agreed to give me what I want."

"What do you want?" you cry out, the tears from your lack of orgasm now staining your cheeks. "I'll give you whatever you want, Namjoon-ssi." you slur your words, begging for him to just fuck you until you came hard around him.

"Whatever I want?" Namjoon hums, and at your nod he flips you around. He sends a hard slap against your ass, having it echo throughout the room. He enters you once more, not halting for you to adjust to him - after all your pussy was leaking for him already. He wraps a hand around your neck and brings you close to his chest so he can whisper into your ear, his thrust never stopping. "I want you to give me a baby, Y/N." he whispers into your ear.

It sends shivers down your spine - the way his voice rasps as he speaks to your intoxicated mind. And what intoxicated you desired was whatever Namjoon himself desired. You couldn't help but moan in reaction to his words.

"I want to fill you up with my cum, Y/N. You'll look so beautiful with it inside of you - with our child inside of you." Namjoon squeezes your neck more, his free hand playing with your clit, his powerful thrusts never cease. "Our baby will be so beautiful, Y/N, I want them to look just like you."

Your about to cum, Namjoon's kinks coming out - and you enjoying it - is sending you over the edge. Your pussy clenches around him, as if telling him to breed you. Namjoon growls loudly, you feel so heavenly around him. So wet and tight - your pussy being his and his only to fuck, to breed into. Being able to fuck his child into you - or children, the more the merrier - and witness your hips and stomach grow, your breast swell, it makes his high come near.

"Cum in me." you choke out, your senses out of your mind. All you did know was that Namjoon was fucking into you so good that you'd agree on anything right now. "Please, Namjoon-ssi, I want you to get me pregnant."

Your words make him cum, the two of you doing so at the same time. He makes it his mission to push you roughly against the couch and cum deep inside of you, making sure there was no cum left inside of him.

"You go around telling everyone I fucked you?!" you hiss, phone pressed to your ear as you turned your car on. "I just became a damn detective a few weeks ago, Namjoon, I can't have my credibility ruined because of you."

"Y/N-ah..." Namjoon's voice is deep and soothing, but stern. "Calm your tone, please."

You take a deep breath. You sit your head against the window and let out a shaky sigh. You were a woman who fought too long and hard to even get considered in being a detective - the last thing you needed was a man coming between that. The session between you and Namjoon, though amazing, was nothing you could repeat.

"I don't go around telling my personal business. Jimin is a brother to me."

"And that makes it better?" you snap. You shouldn't have really - you and your sister talk all the time - mainly her speaking of her sexual adventures and the life she lived opposite to you.

"I'm saying what we have is safe with me, Y/N-ah." Namjoon voice makes your core quiver and you knew it was time to wrap this conversation up. You were needed around Seoul to continue your investigation. "Are you hungry? We can go out for lunch-"

"No." you interrupt. "We can't keep doing this. Pretending you weren't between my legs."

"Then don't." Namjoon words were dismissive. "I believe you're making it more complicated."

"I'm not. I have to go. I'll see you around, Namjoon-ssi." You don't wait for a response when you hang up.

You begin to drive, your hands wrapped around the steering wheel far to tight. You knew there was something about Jimin, something sinister in the way his eyes were on you. His girlfriend, a coincidence that she was apart of this investigation, had a nervous look in her eyes. You believed she knew more than what she led on, but was she the source of your curiosity- no. There was 3 more girls to investigate, after all.

You stopped at the large estate belonging to a newly engaged couple, one being another of Shin's girlfriends. You learned she was a high school sweetheart, having left her own home town and found herself in Seoul - now with a new partner. You parked outside the estate, the line of black cars with tinted windows didn't go unnoticed at your entry.

You make your way towards the front door, the large modern door opening before you can knock.

"I don't know how this man survived this long without a woman in his life." a girl hisses as she waves her hand around. "Bring that damn couch and put it somewhere else!"

You note that its Shin's girlfriend, just the one you were looking for. She places her hands on her hips and let lot a sigh. "My furniture delivery should be here soon and all of this has to be out before that." she tells the men - all in dark suits - with a shake of her head.

"Yes." the men say in unison. She leans against the door frame, her eyes now catching your attention.

"Hello?" she says with a head tilt. "Kookie isn't here. You just missed him actually." she huffs. "I'm sure he'll be back shortly."

You shake your head. "I'm here to see you."

She huffs. "Do we know each other? I booked a nail appointment and I don't think you're her." she smiles as she speaks.

You shake your head. "No. I'm a detective investigating Shin's case."

Her expressions turned and you swore her eyes darken. "That asshole." she rolls her eyes. "Well if you're here to question me come in." she strolls inside the large estate, she calls out for someone who comes rushing in. "Can you bring me some wine? And for..." her eyes turn to you.

"Water is fine." you say and the man scurries off in a hurry. She leads you to a seating area. "I'm sorry for the lack of decor. My fiancé didn't have anything here prior to me moving in. A few mattresses, couches and god ugly chairs."

"He's a man after all." you assure her, you both seated on stools. "How did the two of you meet?"

She sighs, a smile on her lips. "Dinner. Shin stood me up." she was quick with her words, more confident. "After the funeral we met again and I suppose we clicked. I know it's too soon..."

You shake your head. "Everyone grieves differently." you assure her. "But, I still have to ask a few questions."

The man returns with bottled water - an expensive brand you'd never think to buy - and a tall glass of red wine. She grabs it hastily and sips upon it. "What I need during an interrogation."

"It's not a full interrogation, surely. You're in the comfort of your home not in the interrogation room." you smile at her and she does the same. "But, as you know I have to ask you the usual questions."

"Yes. Where was I?" she sips her wine. "I was at home waiting for the man. Bought a new lingerie set for nothing."

You nod your head. "And how did you find out about him being shot?"

"Well, I got the phone call. I came as fast as I could but when I got there he was...gone." she lowers her eyes. "I didn't know about the others until the funeral. Imagine us all crying for the same dead man." she scoffs bitterly.

She lifts her eyes at you and shrugs. "Well, everything happens for a reason I suppose."

"Is that how you feel?" you question.

She gives a throaty laugh. "Yes and no." she sips her wine some more. "All I do know is that he is the reason I met Kookie - his selfishness. I left everything behind and risked being shunned by my parents for him to not even be faithful to me. But Jungkook is different, he caters to me but mostly he listens to me and there isn't anyone but me."

You took your own sip of your water. You felt for the woman - for all the women he toyed with. It was unsure if he felt any feelings for them outside of lust. But she were different - she was his high school sweetheart after all.

"I admit it's a shame how his death occurred." She stands, as do you. "Over the phone I was told he was going to survive when I spoke to the nurse. A little over 30 minutes later he was dead. It all happened so fast."

You hum, your eyes scanning her.

"It was as if a blink of an eye everything changed. I went through a lot just by his death and I'm sure the other women have, as well."

"My love!" a loud voice booms through the empty estate. You turn to see a dark haired man walk through. "You threw everything away?"

"They were trash. Why did you have 3 different color couches?" the woman groans and rolls her eyes.

"For the aesthetic." the man retorts as if it was obvious. His eyes turn to you and he smiles. "Ah, Y/N-ah! What brings you here? How did you two meet?"

"You know the detective?" the woman asks. "She's investigating Shin's case..." she trails off.

You furrow your brows at the man, though familiar, you couldn't bring yourself to remember from where. It was as if he knew you more than you did him.

"Detective...?" he tilts his head. "I didn't...know. Namjoon-hyung told us all about you..." he eyes his girlfriend, who does the same. "Said we'd be meeting you soon."

Your fist clench and now you're ready to physically attack Namjoon. This was the second time he made it into your investigation- you not being known as a detective but as someone associated with him. And you never told the man that the two of you were anything but friends - the sex being a one time thing only. His speaking of you to his brothers about meeting was something that would never happen outside of working hours.

Yet again, this isn't something you need to take lightly. Both of his "brothers" were also part of the investigation by simply being associated with the prior girlfriends of the victim. One girl was a coincidence - two now made an investigation that you weren't allowing it to be brushed away.

"Thank you." you bow your head. "You helped greatly in my investigation."

Jungkook watches you turn and walk down the hall. He follows you quickly. "How is the investigation going, noona?" he speaks.

"It's going...what was your name? Seeing as everyone knows me but I don't know anyone." you bit, making sure to talk to Namjoon eventually about his behaviour.

"Jungkook." he answers lowly. "What do you know so far about Shin's murder?"

"That's private, Jungkook-ssi. You surely know." you scold him, your hand on the door knob. You twist and open the door. "I suppose it was nice meeting you. I don't intend on returning unless I have more questions."

Jungkook nods. He waves as you walk down the stairs of his estate. "I'll be seeing you soon, noona." he says, as though he was sure of it.

"Would you like anything to drink?" you ask the girl as she sits, arms crossed and eyes low.

She shakes her head - she's nervous, you note.

"You came here stating you had information on the case of Chang Shin." you tell the woman, sitting across from her. The interrogation room felt intimidating to anyone being questioned. It was cold, set that way to make anyone unsettled while being questioned.

While you were out the day questioning those close to Shin, you brought yourself to Seoul's hospital to speak with one of the interns involved. After your talk with Jungkook and his fiance (surprisingly Shin's high school sweetheart) you take your notes to the hospital, your mind telling you foul play was involved. You questioned everyone involved with Shin - from the paramedics on duty that night, to the nurses who searved all the way to the Surgeon who operated on him and the intern - surprisngly a girlfriend of his, as well - that assisted. At your arrival, the intern appeared uneasy - fidgety. She couldn't look you in the eyes when she responded to your questions nor would she go into details about the surgery or what exactly led to his death.

Kim Seokjin - the surgeon who operated on Chang Shin - had made himself present and it was no surprise that the man knew you, of course - thanks to Namjoon. However you had no time for introductions when you were on the clock - you asked the question needed and as you expected, he was calm and collected; far more than his intern. His eyes never left yours and he even made a few jokes to make the situation light-hearted. His answers were quick and short, but well thought out. You were almost - keyword: almost - convinced until you noticed his eyes glance at the intern. His eyes linger a second too long and it tells you exactly the situation.

It was the same look Jimin and Jungkook gave.

"Ah, yes." the woman nods. She takes a breath before continuing. "My name won't be involved in this, right?"

"Is there a reason why?" you ask her. "Whatever you can give me now would be helpful but I'll need something to get back in contact with you incase I have any more questions."

"I can give you my number." she murmurs. "But my name...I really don't want to be involved. I don't know about these men I seen."

Your ears perked at the new found information. "What men?" you ask her. You take your phone out to start recording for your notes.

"Um, I was walking and I saw these two men roughing up another." she says, her eyes glancing around the room. "Um, I stayed behind because, obviously and..."

You lean back into your chair. Hearing her words, you believed her. However, there were holes in this timeline that you had to address. "What time was this?"

"Um," she sighs. "in the middle of the night, maybe? Around a month ago."

"And why were you out in the middle of the night, may I ask?" you watch her lips catch between her teeth. A clear sign of nerves, and now you had to be intentive with whatever information she gives you. "Did you know any of these men prior to coming between them?"

"No." the woman answers far too quickly. "Um, I was...trying to find my boyfriend."

"In the...middle of the night? Alone?" you stretch out, raising a brow. "Did you recoginze any of these men?"

The woman shakes her head, but you notice how her breathing quickens. "I-I..."

"Calm down." you raise your hand at her. "It's okay. Take your time and remember, alright? The more you explain the more we can piece everything together."

"Okay." she nods. She leans in closer to the table, her elbows on them as she massages her temples. "I was looking for my boyfriend because he suddenly left in the middle of the night. I followed him for at least 30 minutes, making sure I wasn't too close." you are certain that the woman would rather be anywhere else but here now, deciding if she should be talking or not. "But um...I saw him that night. He was with another guy...I couldn't see his face. They both had ski masks on."

"So how did you know it was your boyfriend?" you ask her. "May I have his name?"

The woman hesitated but continued. "Jung Hoseok." she murmurs. "They um, roughed him up a bit. They didn't kill him though...they took money and stuff."

You nod, your ears listen closely to the new information. This was a step forward into your investigation.

"Are you still with your boyfriend? Did you ever confront him?"

"No. I left that same night...and when I saw the news about the man I...it took me a while to come but I couldn't stand it anymore." the woman appears torn. Her boyfriend could be involved with a murder and that fact could be eating her alive. You got the name, Jung Hoseok, and once you search deeper you'll see if he is in the database. You contemplate asking Namjoon if he knew the name - it was as though he knew everyone partially involved in the investigation. But you decide against it, this wasn't his investigation and you didn't need it being sabotaged.

"Do you have a picture of him?" you lean forward. "If you mind sending it to me, I'll put a face to the name. It'll be much easier that way."

She nods, gulping. She goes through her phone to find a picture of the man and shows you. You hum, squinting your eyes. He was attractive, sure, with a wide smile with a pair of perfect teeth. Your mind swirls at where you seen him and immediately your gut is telling you a certain Kim Namjoon.

Your eyes reach hers and she averts her eyes out of uneasiness. "Is that all you needed?"

You nod your head. "Yes. It is. But if I may ask...are you safe?"

The woman gasps lowly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

It was a question you asked yourself after it came from your mouth. This investigation was deeper than anyone would know - involving ex girlfriends and new couples, people who were far too familiar (yet you couldn't put your finger on where). What you did know everything led to the same person in the end - Namjoon and his connections.

"It's my job to make sure." you offer a short smile. "Your help is appreciated. Please, we can exchange numbers in case something else breaks with the case."

"I said we aren't fucking killing her!" Namjoon screams, his voice snapping aggressivly at the younger man - Taehyung.

"Then keep your bitch on a leash." Taehyung retorts with an eye roll.

Namjoon stands, as does Taehyung.

Jungkook raises his hands and cuts between them. "You two are being irrational right now." he shakes his head. "Hyung..." his eyes are on Taehyung. "You shouldn't have said that."

"Maybe not. But am I the only one thinking about the family?" Taehyung looks around to his brothers who all sit around them.

"The family?" Hoseok scoffs. He was quiet up until this point. "You care about the family as if you aren't the reason we're in this damn mess now?!"

Namjoon nods his head in agreement. "Pussy had you roped up like the rest of us. The difference is the leash was around your neck." Namjoon snickers.

Yoongi sighs, his head was starting to hurt. Every time the 7 of them were together it was as if they did nothing but argue.

Taehyung lets out a bitter laugh. "Another difference is...she's at home. Regardless if the leash is around my neck or hers." his eyes glance between Hoseok and Namjoon's. "Your girl," he points at Hoseok. "is M.I.A for the last month and yours," he points to Namjoon, "is a detective investigating a murder we all had a hand in."

"And by the looks of it, she's on a roll of cracking it." Jin pipes in. "If she managed to see each of us in under one day then imagine just what she knows."

"Does it matter what she knows?" Jungkook steps away from his three brothers. He shrugs and chuckles. "Namjoon-hyung is apart of the same agency. He's gotten rid of informaton on us before."

"You're right there." Jimin hums, he places his phone on the table and nods. "But who knows what she found out and who she told."

"Or who else she interrogated." Hoseok hisses. "I have enough shit to take care of, I don't need to deal with this drama now."

Namjoon scoffs. "You should've chipped her phone when I told you to." he tells him. "But that doesn't mean she still can't be found. She can't get far."

"Right." Jimin nods, a smile forming onto his lips. "She doesn't have a car anymore."

"Did you freeze her cards like I told you to, Hyung?" Jungkook questions. "That's the only way to make her eventually come back willingly."

"If not, force is always best." Yoongi shrugs.

"Worse comes to worse, hyung, release a sextape." Jimin jokingly giggles, the memories coming back to him. "Ruin her reputation."

Namjoon drowns out the conversation. He needed to find a way for you to speak with him that wasn't over the phone. You managed to ignore his presence while at work and get away from him the first chance you had. His mind couldn't stop recalling the memories of weeks ago - you were right where he wanted you.

Namjoon wouldn't say he was obsessed with you - no. You interested him years ago when you joined the force. You were headstrong and determined to get where you were at now, a detective. You took the job seriously and the many moments he spoke with you prior, he knew just how interligent you were. Your ability to solve problems with little evidence was what got you the position as detective.

No, Namjoon was not obsessed. But he knew the way your eyes lit up when you found clues to whatever you were investigating. He knew how you enjoyed your coffee (or tea) before a long day and would often skip lunch to continue your work. When you did eat, you chewed on the same side each time and the pout on your lips he found adorable.

Maybe he was a little obsessed - only a little. But how couldn't he be?You weren't the same as his brother's girls (not that there was a problem with them). You had a job you worked hard in and dreams you followed. You adored your sister (who he was sure Yoongi was adoring but refused to say) and was protective over her - meaning that when he finally had you, you'd be the same with him and your child together.

"What are you thinking so hard about, hyung?" he feels hands around his shoulders. Jungkook eyes him.

"Maybe ruining her reputation is too harsh." Namjoon mumbles. "She worked far too hard for it."

Jimin rolls his eyes but doesn't respond.

Jin crosses his legs. "Then don't let it get too far."

"I agree." Yoongi nods. "She can be with you and keep her job."

"You'll just have to find a way for her to not leave you once she finds out the truth."

"Good luck with that." Hoseok scoffs, a bitterness and a hint of sadness in his own voice.

"Think of it as an eye for an eye." Jimin suggest. "You have something on her, right? You have to. Use it against her and make sure she doesn't think about leaving." Jimin then smirks. "I have the video of you guys fucking in the private rooms. Do you want to use that against her?"

Yoongi snorts.

Namjoon shakes his head. He knows you well enough now - just as much as you knew yourself. It's been weeks since he fucked you in that room. He knew well enough that you have yet to have your period and this would be his moment.

"Well, if that doesn't work, Hyung, then maybe ruining her reputation is where it needs to be." Jimin shrugs. "After all, she can't need you for anything if she has her own."

You release a sigh as you enter your office. You weren't feeling like yourself. You took medicine to help with your upcoming cold - you were sure it was a cold. Your head often spins, you no longer drink coffee and stick to tea - only iced however - and feel light-headed more times than you can count. You told yourself it was the stress of the investigation and once you solved it, you'll be better than ever.

You open your desk drawer and take out the small familiar packet of birth control. You leave it at work, taking it at the same time every day. You drown it down with the iced tea and shake your head. You proceed to go through your notes of everything you encountered through the last few weeks. Things didn't make much sense, however you knew one key factor was Kim Namjoon and his brother - two of who you met, Jimin and Jungkook, one who you seen at the club with your sister (who promised she wasn't involved with him), Yoongi. You suspected that Kim Seokjin was a part of the mix and a Jung Hoseok, the man suspected of robbing Shin and caught by his girlfriend.

It didn't make any sense, however, how they were all involved with a drug dealer. Namjoon was a detective, Seokjin and surgeon and by the information you gathered on Jugnkook, he owned several businesses and properties around Korea. Jimin owned bars and nightclubs, the party life making him an abundance of money. Jung Hoseok was one of the same, his business being in foreign cars. Why would someone as rich and successful as them be entangled with the likes of a drug dealer?

There was a knock upon your door. You sigh, not looking up before responding. "Come in."

The door opens and close and when the person doesn't speak, you raise your eyes and freeze.

"Y/N-ah." Namjoon stands tall above your desk. "You've been avoiding me."

"Why would you think that?" you retort, gathering your notes so he wouldn't have a glimpse of them. "I've been busy with the Chang Shin case."

Namjoon nods. He notices the way you close the notebook and gather up any notes you had. It amuses him that you think he doesn't know what you're up to - or what you already know.

"What can I help you with, Namjon-ssi?" you ask him, your annoyance is growing. "I'm busy-"

"Why do you think you can push me aside after I fucked you so good, Y/N-ah?" Namjoon's demeanor changes as he stalks closer to you. "After you begged me to cum inside of you? I fucked you all night."

You are startled by his words and change of appearance. He appears pissed, his eyes glaring daggers at you.

"You came home with me and I fucked you all night, Y/N-ah. I know you enjoyed it - cumming around my fingers. On my lips, around my cock."

"Get out!" you hiss at him, lifting yourself up from your seat. "Get the fuck out before I-"

"Before you what?" Namjoon chuckles. This act you put on is adorable to him, but he was done tolerating it. "You walk around here as if you earned this job, Y/N and didn't fuck me to get it."

You slap Namjoon across the face. The audacity of this man. You regretted sleeping with him, but you knew your promotion came prior to you ever laying with him. This man befoe you wasn't the man you worked alongside of for years.

Namjoon's eyes turn to slits as he eyes you. "I'm the one that gave you this position, Y/N." he says lowly, so low and filled with venom that it makes you step back. "You'd still be a useless police officer if I didn't give you this raise, never forget that. I can't take all of this away from you." he snaps, his hands flying around the room. "You should be a little more grateful for what I've given you."

You step back again, Namjoon's anger flying around the room.

"Everything I've done was for you!" he roars, not caring if anyone was outside to hear. "I got you this job as a detective. I allowed you to be the highest paid police officer and now detective in this agency! And yet and still, you push me aside as if I'm nothing?"

You stiffen at his words. His admition - that you didn't work hard for where you got, you were given it just because he liked you enough to do it.

"I didn't ask you to." you spit back. Now you were disgusted - with him and yourself for not seeing who Namjoon truly was. "Demote me back to a police officer for all I fucking care."

You go around and grab your jacket, fresh tears tickling the corner of your eyelids. You felt horrible now in knowing that you weren't promoted for your abilities, for your intelligence but because this man knew how you viewed him and preyed upon it.

"Where are you going?" Namjoon grasps your wrist and spins you around, and when he does you punch him in the nose. You don't stop, your anger gets the best of you in this terrible situation.

Your tears are now falling and you scream at him. "Get the fuck away from me!"

Namjoon manages to wrap his arms around you. He holds you close to his chest, shaking his head. He doesn't fight you, not even when your thrasting against him hissing out every swear word you could to get away from him.

Namjoon strokes your hair. "Calm down. You're going to upset the baby."

You freeze on the spot. His hands then rub your back.

"You don't think I'd allow you to leave me willingly?" Namjoon chuckles darkly. "No, I've planned this far ahead. Not even someone as amazingly intelligent as you wouldn't have figured it out."

Namjoon allows you to push away just enough for your teary eyes to look up at him in confusion.

"I know you take your birth control here every morning. So much so that you even get it delivered every end of the month before your old one is finished. It's a hefty job to change those pills to sugar ones, but I do it. Every month. I know when you get your periods and when you're ovulating - you're my girl after all." Namjoon offers you a crazed smile, the dimples you once loved showing. "How do you think your sister was able to get into Persona for free of charge? She didn't tell you she," Namjoon raises his hand to do air quotations "won free entry and free drinks all night and she could bring one guest? Especially around the same time you got your promotion."

Realization dawns upon you. You asked your sister, but she never told you how. Your knowledge of the club was that it was high end and expensive, somewhere you'd never be again. But as Namjoon speaks, you couldn't help but feel your world crumbling around you.

"I admit, when I saw you come through the door wearing that dress..." Namjoon shakes his head. "I wanted to fuck a baby into you right then and there. But I was patient, for you. I got what I wanted, Y/N. I managed to fuck a baby into you and now we can be the family we always wanted."

You push against his chest. "Get-"

"Don't." Namjoon hisses. "You have two options. You can keep this position as a detective. I'll give you another case to work on, of course, my brothers are quite upset that you manage to find them out so easily." Namjoon smiles at your wide eyed expression. "Or...you can be a part of a scandal. Someone will accidentally leak you getting fucked at Persona and you'd be publicly embarrassed and fired." Namjoon shrugs his shoulders. "It's your choice after all, my love. Just remember, think of the baby and yourself. I can give you an amazing life, Y/N, all you have to do is let me."

Your tears fall silently as your eyes stare at Namjoon. Never would you have thought the man would be like this, manipulating you into bearing his child and being with him. This wasn't the man you grew to have a crush on - the man with the dimpl smiled who destroyed everything accidentally on sight. Who would gift you little plants and bonsai trees whenever he seen them "just because".

You cried harder, burying your face into his chest. Namjoon shakes his head with a frown. "I hate seeing you cry, my love." he sighs, his lips turning to a smirk. Why? Now he knew that you were his and he was yours - the way you cried close to him, fingers clenching his shirt told him everything he already knew you'd do.

@silversparkles11

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