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drxwsyni · 4 years

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Prey ︱ Yandere Keigo Takami x f!Reader

@theladyshinigami asked: “Hello! First of all, I've been looking for an account like yours for a long ass time, so thank you for existing. Second, may I request a yandere Hawks pinning for a foreigner with a siren quirk that can hypnotize people when she sings? Thanks again”

a/n: thanks for the request babes! hope you like how this turned out!

warnings: swearing, drugging, mild violence, mention of mutilation

2.9k words

It had been no surprise when the people around you deemed your future to be damned after hearing about your quirk.

Like the mythical siren, you could hypnotize people just by singing to them. It put them under a trance, allowing you to do whatever you saw fit with their mindless bodies. As much as you knew it would be more honourable to take the high road and contain your abilities, the potential it held was too great to pass up.

Now, you weren’t a ruthless killer or anything of the sort. No—you simply used your abilities every so often on the unsuspecting lowlife who probably deserved a little bad luck. Almost like a vigilante of sorts.

For the longest time your actions went unnoticed. You were smart—never staying in one place for too long. The fruits of your labor even brought you to different countries.

But good things could only last for so long, and much to your dismay—a certain avian hero picked up on your actions.

In any other case, this would’ve meant the end of your less than honourable career. But instead, the man you came to know as Hawks chose to turn a blind eye to your antics. You should be grateful—your slip up didn’t end with you in prison.

But the reality you faced now was by no means preferable.

Since being initially caught in the act, you could feel an almost constant looming presence above you. Distant, but there nonetheless. You never actually saw anything that would hint at a shadow, but the blanketed weight of instinct was undeniable. Most notably so was when you were forced to lure in unsuspecting criminals to make ends meet.

A once simple and painless task was now something you dreaded.

The crimson vale of feathers would flash before you, their owner taking a stance when you had the job done. By then you’d swiped any necessary valuables from your latest victim—but that never seemed to bother him. Like the visible vacantness of any belongings from them wasn’t a problem whatsoever, the winged hero would tie up your loose ends. Even said you were helping him out, despite your assistance not exactly being legal.

It lasted like that for a long time. Slowly, you grew to hate the means in which you kept yourself on your feet. Not because your sense of morals were shifting to hold concern for those unfortunate enough to be caught in your sights. Rather, it was because of the sights you were caught in.

Those narrowed and piercing—searching eyes always found you in your worst times. And his attitude, it was enough to give you an aneurism. So nonchalant with his dismissal of your behaviour, such a thing that goes against everything he stands for.

But perhaps, this should’ve been the first red flag that showed you he wasn’t the hero everyone knew him to be—something you were supposed to pick up on and use it to your advantage.

You didn’t have time for that though. It was more important to simply erase his taunting words and carelessly intrusive behaviour from your mind for the sake of your sanity. That, and you were much more concerned with making your next move—one that’d hopefully lead you out of the country.

Or at least far enough away from Hawks.

The back and forth to the pawn shop wasn’t the most enjoyable outing, but it was necessary. You could sense that the owners were at least a little suspicious of how much you frequented their establishment—especially given the items you’d exchanged.

Thankfully, the shop was on the bad side of town, meaning they were quite used to people like yourself. Slowly but surely, the stash you kept hidden in a floor vent in your shambly apartment grew steadily. It wasn’t much at first, but as of late you were making a point to be increasingly active with your efforts.

Everything finally came down to one night—you being immensely grateful to your recent catch. The old man was practically dripping with sin, along with undeserved riches to boot. You’d followed him from the luxurious nightclub, where you knew some less than honourable individuals did depraved things to the vulnerable.

It was just your luck—the man was mind numbingly drunk, stumbling back and forth on his feet in an attempt at a walk in a straight line.

While your quirk wouldn’t get rid of his uneasiness, it would give him more motivation to make his way towards a certain direction. One that led him right into your hands, along with his overpriced belongings.

The deed was done in less than a minute—speed being essential in not getting caught. But you weren’t the only one who held that strength to a high standard. Just as you were pocketing the last of his trinkets, you glanced upwards towards the pitch black night sky. Your eyes focused on the abyssal expanse for a few seconds—now was about the time you’d expect the crimson of his wings to grace your presence. It’d be followed by his unbearably confident remarks, and the frustrating way he’d disregard you as a threat.

But the last minute arrival never came. For the first time since you met him, Hawks didn’t show up to court off your latest prey to the police. Frankly, you didn’t mind it.

The man would never know it was you anyways, you being safe enough to keep your face hidden from prying eyes. It just meant you could return home, one very successful haul in tow with complete peace befalling your mind. No dealing with Hawks’ irritating antics—just a quiet walk back all by yourself.

Naturally, the night’s events had you in high spirits. If your calculations were correct, this would be just enough for your stash to equal out to an amount sufficient enough to get you moving again.

The thought brought a smile to your face, and with a spring in your step you trailed back to the cheap and small apartment complex you called your temporary home.

Every time you opened the front door you cringed at the sound of rusty metal rubbing together on the hinges. Now was no different as you shut the rickety frame back into its closed position, sliding the lock into place.

Removing your shoes with a sigh, you trudged to the back of the apartment where your bedroom was stationed. A cold breeze washed over you as you pushed the slightly ajar door open fully. The window was open, causing the curtains to sway under the wind's influence. Shivering slightly at the sensation, you threw your bag onto the bed and made your way to the worn down looking window.

The lock never worked on the damn thing, so there was never a need to care about if it was closed or not. But on a chilly night like tonight, you mentally cursed yourself for not taking more care in regarding it before you left. It got hot in the daytime, often resulting in it being left open for the most part. It’s only expected that every now and then you’d leave the damned thing like that, now mentally cursing yourself for doing so as the room’s temperature was unpleasantly low, shutting it with a thud.

You moved back towards your bed, unzipping your backpack and emptying the contents atop the duvet. Sorting things was always the most interesting part of your night—seeing just what people were willing to spend their money on. You picked up the wad of cash first, being decent enough not to just take his whole wallet. After thumbing through the stack, you took a bobby pin laying on your nightstand and clipped it over the papers, holding them all together.

In your early days of using your quirk to your advantage, you made the mistake of keeping all of your findings in one place. Call it karma, but at one point you were the one being robbed, both cash and other luxurious items going missing.

Now, you were smarter than that. Learning from your mistakes, you kept the two piles separate. At the moment, all cash was hidden in the floor vent.

Getting on your knees in front of the grating, you lifted the top off, letting the light from the room’s lamp flood into the small space.

The cash was gone.

Your hand dived into the metal-lined crevice, sweeping back and forth frantically. There was no way it could’ve fallen back further into the vent. The heating didn’t push that way, and even if it did you always kept the cash bundled—it was too heavy to be blown away out of arm's reach.

Your heart sunk into your chest, a gut wrenching despair taking hold of you.

“Looking for something?”

That voice—you knew who it belonged to before your head whipped around to face the direction it came from. Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, wings outstretched almost threateningly was the avian hero you’d come to hate.

And god, that smirk plastered across his face. He always wore it, like the damn thing was a permanent expression solidified into his being.

You stilled your actions, eyes unmoving from him. “Where’s my cash?” In a way, you could almost take pride in how you managed to keep a calm and steady voice. The rage was still there, but it was contained—for now.

Hawks moved past the doorway, casually stepping towards the closest nightstand. Like he hadn’t even heard you question, he idly picked up a framed photo—the only one you had of your home town that was thousands of miles away. You’d taken the shot at sundown, showcasing all its best features in the honeyed lighting cascading over it.

“Y’know, it’s almost impressive—the money you rake in.” He was still looking at the photo, eyes searching the minuscule details your camera picked up—one that you had to sell for some extra cash in the early days.

He set the frame down, smirk falling ever so slightly. It was the first time he looked even remotely serious—the casual leaned back stance doing nothing when you saw the dangerous glint in his eyes. “I simply...took it upon myself to donate the cash to a better cause.”

Your blood ran cold, the constricting feeling in your chest tightening at his words. For a moment you couldn’t respond, too mortified by his statement. The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, until forcing yourself out of a stupor, you responded. “...You did what?”

In the most condescending tone of voice you’d ever heard, the winged man replied. “Hey, don’t look so surprised. I mean what were you even gonna do with it anyways?”

Still kneeling on the floor, you felt pure, seething hatred for the hero in front of you. “What was I—I was going to use it to get away from your deranged ass!”

The sound of your raised and angered voice reverberated off the walls, him paying no mind to it. “Oh, were you now?”

Almost in a lazy manner, Hawks pushed off the nightstand he was leaning on. “C’mon, you didn’t really think I’d let you get away with robbing people.” The sound of his boots hitting the floor seemed louder than they should’ve as he stalked towards your frozen form. “I mean that would be so...unheroic of me, after all.”

Even in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes were almost inhumanely bright as he looked at you like you were a piece of fresh meat.

You should’ve known this would happen. All this time spent putting together enough cash just to get yourself out of this city and far away from the man looming over you—none of it really mattering in then end.

Not if you couldn’t get out of here.

The stash of money might be gone, but you still had the belongings on your bed. They would go for a good price, and if you played your cards right it’d be enough to get you far enough away from him. It would be tight—but it’s possible.

As far as you were concerned, Hawks was no more virtuous than the lowly individuals you entranced with your quirk. It may have taken this moment to solidify it, but now you knew who he was.

Not a hero, just a man pretending to be one for his own gains.

You opened your mouth, prepared to voice whatever melody came to mind. The feeling of a hand clamping over it came before you could manage a noise, and then your back colliding with the cold hardwood.

The feeling of Hawk’s weight on your body felt crushing, rendering you completely immobilized underneath him. He had you hands pinned above your head with his free one in an almost bruising grip, you unable to move away as he sat on your hips.

“Ah ah ah—little bird.” He grunted through the words, still steady as you made some final weak attempts to throw him off before resigning to your predicament for the moment.

Hawks let a few seconds go by after you stilled, eyeing you warily in a way that you could only assume was to make sure you were fully calmed down. He let out a breathy sigh, “So, here’s how this is gonna work…”

He paused, lips upturning ever so slightly before continuing. “I’m gonna take my hand off, and if I hear so much as a peep from you, I’ll rip your fucking vocal cords out. Got it?” The casual look to his face gave a stark and disturbing contrast to his gruesome words.

You swallowed dryly, tears prickling in your eyes. He knew how much weight those words held—your quirk riding on the fact that your means of speaking were intact.

The winged man tilted his head slightly, a look of what felt like fake concern flashing across his face. “Hey, don’t go looking so scared. I don’t wanna do that, I promise.”

His words did little to ease your worries—the promise meaning absolutely nothing to you.

“Now, if you behave then maybe I’ll consider keeping you awake on the way home, okay?”

On the way home—what the fuck is he talking about?

A crease formed between your brows in confusion, mind racing from unknown sentiment. One might think you’d been running for miles with the way your heart beat was hammering inside your ribcage. But it would turn out that fear was much better at producing the same effect.

If you could manage even a second to use your quirk, he’d be done for. You shakily nodded your head, the grip on your face making the action somewhat difficult.

Hawks seemed pleased with your forced compliance, smirk widening in satisfaction.

“There’s my good little bird, now—”

His hand lifted from your mouth, and without hesitation you activated your quirk.

Or at least you tried.

You should’ve known, the man pinning you to the ground was notorious for being incredulously fast. So much so that you didn’t even see him move, only registering the feeling of a cloth sealing over your mouth and nose.

That smell—sickeningly sweet. Your eyes blew wide at the realization, body thrashing beneath him. Looking at him pleadingly didn’t work, especially when the tears running down your face blurred your vision. In the midst of you violently kicking and attempting to throw him off you, Hawks effortlessly dealt with the consequences to your actions.

“Don’t be like that, I tried—”

Even in your weakening state, you managed to knee him hard. But it was no more in force than a kitten scratch. It may have taken him off guard, even interrupting his train of thought, but he was still the one on top.

You knew you would have bruises later on, but that was the least of your worries right now.

“I tried to warn you, and it’s only fair that I hold up my end of the deal.”

The strenuous efforts of your resistance had you sucking in involuntary gulps of breath in exhaustion. You could feel your mind spinning, not being able to focus on any one thing in particular. It was a lightheaded sensation, you not even realizing that your limbs fell almost completely limp in his hold.

Your focus drifted away from the avian human above you, landing on the once opened bedroom window. Your eyelids felt increasingly heavy, once loudly muffled screams turning into defeated whimpers—and then silence.

Hawks released his iron hold on your wrists, leaning back with a deep and relieved sigh. The cloth was shoved back into his pocket, and he mentally thanked himself for bringing his car so he wouldn’t have to fly you back to his apartment for everyone to see.

It wasn’t the first time he regarded your sleeping form, face peaceful and distinctively not contorted with fear—and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He’d known your caution well, seeing it in action the countless times he’d pry his eyes into your life. Whether it be from above on those late nights of you scrounging for cash, or through your window as you sifted through the stockpile of valuable collections. Always thinking that your efforts of evasion were enough.

Surely, after going so long with the same routine—laying low and moving against those who had bad luck coming when the opportunity arose—this new stop in your travels would show no need for change. Even when he made his presence obvious, you stayed set in your ways.

You didn’t deem him a threat. You thought that you were the apex predator, and he was nothing more than a scavenger reaping the rewards of your latest catch.

And now, he would teach you that no—he was the predator, and you were the prey.

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere #yanderecore #yandere x you #yandere keigo x reader #yandere writing

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

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A story by heroes and vilains

Virgil Anker: a chance at change

Changes can be thrust upon you, or made by choice. Virgil has to make a few though decisions this year.

Virgil’s first day of his sophomore year started as a complete disaster. Over the summer his father had started on a ‘project’ he didn’t want to talk about at home. Which was weird. His dad loved talking about work. It was one of the few things that consistently got him excited. Last night he’d worked late, like really late, and Virgil hadn’t been able to bring himself to even go to his room. Instead he sat on the stairs, staring at the front door until his dad came through. After reading that headline that placed the horrible possibility of his father’s secret in his head he’d stopped searching. He’d bolted out of the library and into the park where he curled up under a tree, hid himself with his powers and proceeded to panic for what he later found out was a good hour. He’d always been a worrier and this discovery gave him so much to worry about. What if his father was Brain Storm? What if he was still a bad guy? What if he wasn’t but someone from his past was blackmailing him? What if he’d lose him when people found out? What if this project was something dangerous and something bad had happened? When his dad came home Virgil did something he hadn’t done since he was ten. He jumped into his father’s arms and hugged him tight. The panic he’d been keeping at bay all night rushing over him all at once. It took his dad a while to calm him down. Then he’d put him to bed with the promise of a serious talk after school. Then, of course, Virgil had overslept. His dad always left very early and usually Virgil was very punctual. But today he got up way too late and had to rush out the door. He barely took the time to shower, not even waiting for the water to get warm or to dry his hair properly. For breakfast he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth after which he rushed to the bus stop praying he’d still magically make it to the last buss that would get him to school on time. He had no such luck. When he finally arrived at school he rushed to get his late slip and thanked the heavens that the secretary seemed to feel enough pity for his sorry state to spare him a lecture and just gave him his schedule and told him the quickest way to his first class. “I hope you like where you are sitting…” The teacher’s voice faded out as he finally arrived in class. She looked at him, clearly not happy with his late arrival. “Ah, so glad you could join us Mr. Anker,” she greeted with a clipped voice. Virgil did his best to ignore the fact that everyone was staring at him. Maybe he should try and figure out if he could use his cloak in reverse and make himself blind to the presence of other people. He pulled his hood off as he muttered an apology and tried to avoid looking anyone in the eye. The teacher pointed to the back of the class. “Take your seat and spare me your excuses. I was just telling the class that these are your seats for the rest of the year,” she then continued addressing the class. “So I hope you like your neighbor, they are your new lab partner.” Virgil felt dread fill his stomach. Great a lab partner. And he got stuck with whoever was left sitting alone. He followed the teacher’s gesture and soon spotted the only empty seat in the second to last row in the back. He felt all tension leave his body as he saw that on the spot next to it sat none other than Roman Castile. Maybe today wouldn’t suck as much as he thought it would. The theater kid gave him a playful smirk and a wave. Virgil smiled back and sat down with a relieved sigh. “Man, talk about a lucky break.” “I agree,” Roman grinned. Before Virgil could say anything else, like ‘hi, how was your summer?’, the teacher started class and she was clearly not someone Virgil wanted to get upset at him. Soon they were given their first experiment. He and Roman were laughing, cracking jokes and throwing out nicknames and mild jabs the entire time and still finished early. Virgil couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach. Roman was cute when he was having a good time. He was so gay for this guy. Trying to look like he was perfectly comfortable with his lack of sleep, breakfast and zero minutes spent with so much as a brush, he leaned back in his chair and looked at Roman curiously. “So how did you end up sitting alone in the back, princey?” There was no way Roman voluntarily hid so far out of sight from everyone else and so far from his usual friend seated in the front row. Roman looked a little awkward at the nickname. “Princey?” he repeated. Virgil rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh come on, you are clearly destined to be prom king senior year. And every king is a prince first,” he teased. Surely he knew that he was the most popular guy of their year? “Fair enough,” Roman allowed with a brief gesture of surrender. “I was last to arrive,” he explained with a shrug. “Simple as that. I didn’t sleep well last night and didn’t get up until my mother kicked me out of bed. She was busy with an order or she would’ve noticed sooner and dad was at the office, so he couldn’t drag me to the breakfast table either.” He made a gesture that seemed to say ‘what can you do?’ “You?” he asked. Virgil couldn’t help but make a face as he thought about the horrible morning he’d had. “Until an hour ago I was convinced the universe just hated me today, let’s leave it at that.” Roman chuckled, but not in a mean way. Then he got this look that Virgil knew meant he was about to be dramatic. “Ah, fate does work in mysterious ways my friend. It must have willed us to team up for this treacherous quest.” ‘How is he this much of a dork? And why do I like that about him?’ Virgil wondered as he laughed at his lab partner’s antics. He just couldn’t help it. Roman just had that effect on him. “Only you can pull of talking like a Shakespeare character,” he told his classmate. A playful light flickered in Roman’s eyes at that. “Well, only you can pull off dressing like a dark knight and still looking like a lost kitten,” he shot back. Virgil forced himself not to show how flustered he felt at being compared to a kitten. Did that mean Roman thought he was cute? And knight? That was a good thing right? Still, he had some kind of reputation he had to uphold. So he gave Roman a playful shove. “You take that back! I am dark and mysterious and intimidating!” Roman didn’t look like he was going to take it back. He looked like he took his protest as a challenge. But then Virgil saw a wad of paper hit his neighbor in the head and Roman’s mood immediately turned sour. Virgil was not far behind. There was only one person he could think of who would provoke the coolest kid in their year like that. Couldn’t Jan let him enjoy himself without him for five minutes? “What gives Bullard?” Roman hissed as they turned around. Virgil hated to see the look on his oldest friend’s face, the sneer, the jealousy. Because it was definitely jealousy that had Janus so worked up about Roman. “You take Smellington next time,” the boy next to Janus flinched in his seat and shot Virgil a pleading look. He recognized him. Virgil had stood up for him to upper classmen several times in the past. “Virgil is sitting with me.” That made Virgil mad like never before. He couldn’t just make decisions about his life like that! “Excuse me?” Roman seethed. “His name is Carlton.” “And you don’t get to say where I sit J,” Virgil added barely keeping his voice down. “I’m fine sitting with Roman. Besides you heard the teacher. No switching seats.” And once again Virgil found himself grateful for something that at first seemed like a bad thing. The teacher might have half a mind to give Virgil detention the second he gave her an excuse, but she also won’t let Janus have his way. Janus was a smooth talker and it got him out of trouble all the time. How Virgil didn’t know for sure, but he was almost certain it wouldn’t work this time around. “We always sit together!” Janus protests, there is a little bit of hurt hidden behind his indignation, but Virgil won’t let it get to him. Not this time. “Exactly. The world won’t end because I’m Roman’s lab partner J.” Really why can’t he have one hour to spend with someone else? “Am I interrupting?” Virgil heard a cold voice from behind him causing him, and the other three students to freeze in shock and turn to face the teacher. She was directing her eyes at Janus. Virgil was right, his friend’s usual tricks would not work this time. “Mr. Bullard, I don’t have you and Mr. Jonson’s assignment yet, which means you can’t be talking with anyone else besides each other right now,” she informed him in a dangerous tone. Two tardy students was clearly already more than she wanted to put up with on the first day of class. Virgil looked back at his friend and watched as Janus gave her his trademark ‘persuasive look’ his voice becoming honey like. Virgil had watched this get him extensions on projects, a better grade on those he had turned in… It was weird, and Virgil almost thought it might be a gift, but Janus would tell him, if no one else. Not to mention it didn’t always work. A gift should be more consistently successful shouldn’t it? “Ma’am, I can’t work with him. Virgil and I never had a problem in projects, can’t we…” “No.” The statement was firm and final and Virgil tried not to show how relieved he felt. “I put Mr. Jonson next to you because you are much too dependent on Mr. Anker’s presence. You won’t always be able to hide behind him Mr. Bullard. You better learn that now. And if I see any more problems here then all that’ll change is that Mr. Castille and Mr. Anker will be moved to the front of the class so you can’t distract them anymore. Is that understood?” Virgil was a bit surprised to hear all this. It seemed like the teacher had forced Janus to let Carlton sit next to him before Virgil or Roman arrived. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with her statement, but he wasn’t going to argue with the result. Virgil shot Carlton a reassuring smile, he’d make sure Janus would behave himself. There was no need for any fallout to affect him.

The teacher left and both he and Roman turned back around in their seats. “Sorry about that.” Virgil had no clue what possessed Roman to say that, but he was not having it. “I should be apologizing. He’s my friend and he was bothering you.” Possibly not for the first time. Why had Roman never mentioned it? “Yeah, but I did something to piss him off… Don’t know what, but he hates me. And if you were my best friend and some dude I hated was being all charming with you, I wouldn’t like it either.” Virgil laughed in relief. He was glad Roman seemed to understand what had Janus so worked up. And while he’d love to protest the ‘he hates me’ bit, he couldn’t. So he focused on getting back to teasing each other and enjoying themselves. “Charming huh? You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.” His jab had the desired effect. All conflict and worry left Roman’s face and he returned to his dramatic self. “Oh, my knight, why must you hurt me so?” Virgil laughed and allowed himself to enjoy the way being called his knight made his heart flutter. “Thanks… I needed that. J isn’t so bad, but he can be…” Virgil bit his lip, unsure what to say. “Yeah, not your fault,” Roman assured him before perking up. “Hey, why don’t you two come sit with us over lunch? Maybe if he feels included, he’ll calm down?” he suggested. Virgil’s eyes widened. That would actually be kind of amazing! Half of Janus’ thing was that he thought they were on the ‘outcast’ side of school hierarchy. If they both got into the ‘cool’ group then he could relax and go back to being the Janus Virgil would gladly do anything for. “You sure?” he asked hopefully. “Of course. My friends all think you are cool and they’ll think Janus is cool too, once he gives them a chance.” Virgil really wanted to accept, but a voice in the back of his head pointed out that this was too good to be true. What if Janus was right and he was unknowingly walking them both in a trap where Janus would end up feeling hurt and betrayed and never want to talk to Virgil again, leaving him with a choice between being all alone or following Roman around like a lovesick puppy for the rest of high school? Another, more rational voice pointed out that Roman had never exhibited any behavior that suggested he’d do that. That voice sounded a lot like his dad, and his dad usually made more sense than the bad voice. Still, why would Roman offer to put up with Janus? “You don’t like him. How do you know they will?” “I don’t like how he talks to me,” Roman admitted. Well, that was only fair. Virgil wasn’t very fond of the way Janus talked to people in general the past year either. “But he’s your friend, so how bad can he be?” His endorsement was that valuable? And had Roman mentioned that his other cool friends thought Virgil was cool too? When did that happen? Maybe, maybe sophomore year could be a new start. “Okay, I’ll suggest it.”

He should’ve known better. “Absolutely not!” Janus had huffed. “Jan, it’s just lunch. If it’s not fun then we can bail on them any time. You are the one who’s so obsessed with our spot on the social ladder. What do we have to lose?” Janus rolled his eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand this Virgil. But the offer wasn’t for us. Roman wants something from you. And he’ll have his friends be nice to me around you to get it.” “I know I’m not exactly mister sunshine, but that’s overly dramatic and pessimistic. Roman is cool. Like genuinely. And if you gave him a chance…” “Oh please Virgil! You are not this naïve! Why do you want his friendship so badly that you blind yourself like this? He can have anything from anyone he wants! Why would he want to be around some awkward outcasts? Except to make himself look good? What end does that serve? Everything anyone ever does serves some selfish end Virgil. Even the most noble of deeds are ultimately out of desire to be seen as good.” “Except for you of course, you only have my best interest at heart!?” Virgil pointed out. Janus hesitated and then he leaned in, too close for Virgil’s comfort, and he spoke in that tone. “You are my only friend Virgil. Of course I want to protect you, even from yourself. Don’t let Roman’s flowery words and cute pet names get to you.” Virgil tried not to flinch. Did Janus know? No, he couldn’t know. Still, Virgil had to remember that he could hear everything he and Roman said to each other. “I give him a week before he gets bored of you. And I don’t want to see you hurt by that.” And Virgil believed him. So he followed Janus to an empty table in the cafeteria. He saw Roman perk up, smile and wave when he spotted them. And he wanted so badly to just turn to him and go sit with Roman, Janus could either join or eat alone if that made him happy. But he didn’t. He smiled apologetically and shrugged, indicating he tried. The way Roman’s face fell in disappointment made his heart break just a little. He was mad at himself for being so weak. The rest of the day he sulked, not talking to Janus at all, not that his friend seemed to care. He apparently was of the opinion that Virgil would come around soon enough. Virgil wasn’t so sure. The sadness and anger he felt about the whole thing didn’t seem to go away like it usually did.

And then there was the talk with his father. “Home!” he called out as he tossed his keys over the hook at the door. “Kitchen!” his dad called back sounding tense. Virgil took a deep breath and joined his father at the kitchen table, gratefully accepting the cup of tea. “Virgil, I want you to know that you are not in trouble. I am not mad or upset with you in any way. Alright?” Clearly he wasn’t as good at hiding his nerves as he’d hoped. He nodded. “Last night… Was that the first time you went through something like that?” Virgil looked down. He knew he had to be honest with his dad right now… But it wasn’t an easy thing to admit. “No… Sometimes I just think too much and I worry and then I freak out and… It always passes, but it’s…” He feels tears spring up in his eyes. He feels so stupid. Who freaks out over some stupid thoughts? Not his dad. He’s rational and calm and in control. “Frightening I’m sure.” Virgil looked up in surprise at his father’s understanding tone. “Virgil,” he began as he pushed a piece of paper and a pen towards him. “I have a list for you, I’d like you to read over it and indicate next to each item how often you experience them on a monthly basis. It’s important to me that you are honest. I have a suspicion of what may be causing this, but I get that talking about it might be hard for you. Therefor I provided you with this as a way to boil it down to simple facts. Can you do this for me?” Virgil nodded and accepted the paper and pen. He started reading and writing. He tried not to think too much about how bad it was that there were so many things he experienced at least once a week if not several times a day. When he finished, he almost didn’t want to return it to his dad. Would he be disappointed? “It’s alright Virgil. I know I’m not always, good, at expressing my emotions, but I do love you. More than I expected to when I first agreed to take care of you. Nothing could prepare me for how much I love you and how proud I am to call you my son. Whatever you wrote down, won’t change that.” Virgil took in a deep breath and shoved the paper forward. There it was gone. Silence lingered for a moment as his father read the paper and nodded to himself. “I’m sorry you’ve been struggling with this on your own Virgil. Can I ask for how long?” Virgil frowned and thought about that. “Um… start of last school year? I didn’t notice it was bad until shortly after Christmas though. I was in the park and started freaking out. After that I was more aware of it I guess,” he explained. His father simply nodded. “Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me this?” he asked worriedly. Because the first time I freaked out it was because I thought you might be a former super villain and I didn’t know how to even begin explaining that. “I… I wanted to… but then I started freaking out about freaking you out and…” he forced himself to take a slow breath and a sip of his tea. “I just figured I could deal.” Logan nodded thoughtfully. “Virgil, I think you might suffer from heightened levels of anxiety. That doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with you. I would like for you to talk to someone about it though. If only to help you figure out a way to handle these attacks and the thoughts that come with this better so it doesn’t have to interfere too much with your life. Does that sound agreeable?” “A shrink?” Virgil asked nervously. His dad nodded. “I know there is a stigma against it… But my psychiatrist has helped me a great deal with your mother’s death. I hope he, or one of his colleagues can help you with your anxiety.” This came as a surprise. “You… you went to therapy?” He always seemed to be so in control of his life though. “Still do from time to time,” his dad nods simply. Virgil thinks about it for a moment. Well, it couldn’t hurt to see what whoever this doctor was had to say right? If he has his dad’s approval… “Okay… just… can this stay between you and me?” he pleaded. He wasn’t sure how Janus would respond to him having anxiety. Knowing him he’d probably become even more protective and he didn’t need that in his life. His dad nodded in understanding. “If that makes you more comfortable.” “Thanks,” Virgil smiled. Then he finished his tea and excused himself to make homework. His dad got him a first appointment for the start of October.

Things didn’t change much for him in that time honestly. Roman grabbed every opportunity to talk to Virgil and tried to coax him into conversation. And he would love to just throw caution to the wind and enjoy the hour they shared as well as the stolen moments where they ‘ran into each other’ or where they defended the same kid. But, he just couldn’t do it. The doctor was a unique individual. Virgil wasn’t sure how well they’d get along at first. “Now, Virgil, I can call you Virgil right?” Picani asked kindly. He was nice, but also… extra. Even Roman might think he was a bit too intense. “Sure,” he mumbled in response, toeing of his shoes and curling up in a ball on the couch. He didn’t miss the fact that Picani took note of that. “Well, I’ve heard why your father thinks you should be here, but what I’d like to know, Virgil, is why you want to be here. Are you just looking for some medication, some breathing techniques or are there some things you actually want to talk about?” Virgil looked at the doctor long and hard to see what his angle was. He couldn’t find one. And it was a good question. What was he doing here if there was so much he couldn’t share? He shrugged. “Not sure… I know my dad wants to help. But…” Picani made a dismissive gesture. “Your father isn’t my patient right now. You should only come here if it’s something you want. Your dad will just have to learn from Jazz Fenton’s example,” Picani smirked. Virgil chuckled. “Well, he’s a lot like her, he just might.” “Oh?” Picani’s eyes lit up. Virgil didn’t know this but it wasn’t often that his patients saw the show he was referencing and indulged in the analogy. “You know, not as serious as he likes to believe he is. Well-meaning and levelheaded most of the time… supportive of his loved ones… but he could maybe be a bit more accepting and patient I guess.” “I was indeed getting at the patient part. Jazz did a great job waiting for her brother to be ready to ask her for help and offered him aid from the sidelines. Protecting him from their parents’ antics in the process.” “But she still thought she knew better than him and while she accepted his powers she didn’t get him until they actually sat down and talked,” Virgil countered. Picani cocked his head curiously. “I mean… I’m bi, and my dad is very accepting of that. And he tries to encourage me when I do art, even if he doesn’t really get it. But… I feel like he expects me to tell him everything, but he’s hiding so much… this is between you and me right?” He was pretty sure that was a rule, but he preferred to check. “Until you give me the ok, your secrets are locked up in here,” the doctor tapped his head and then his notebook, “Safer than in a secret vault.” Virgil smirked. “Figured you’d be a potterhead too. Huffelpuf I assume?”Picani nodded proudly. “But we’re getting of track. You were saying?” Virgil sighed once more. “Right. You probably know that I’m adopted?” he verified. “That was in your paperwork, but I wasn’t going to bring it up unprompted,” the doctor acknowledged calmly. “Well… I’ve come to terms with that, really, I’m not ashamed or anything. But I know nothing about my birth parents. I ask about them, and Lo… dad,” he hates it, but sometimes his father’s surname slips into his mind, especially when he thinks about his birthparents. Never in front of him, but still, he finds himself thinking it more and more often. And he feel really bad about it. “You can address him however you’re comfortable Virgil. I won’t say a word.” Virgil nodded. “Logan won’t tell me anything. I don’t have any pictures or their names and I know he knew them. I want to understand that it’s hard for him for whatever reason. But I want to know where I come from.” Picani nodded calmly. “And this secrecy… could that be what brings out some of the anxiety you’ve been experiencing?” Virgil nodded. “It’s not the only thing though,” he admitted and before he knew it, he told Picani all about how things had changed between him and Janus and the feelings he was developing for Roman who was completely out of his league. Picani was understanding and careful about how he addressed the Janus situation. He did encourage him to accept Roman’s attempts to reach out to him.

Virgil agreed to make another appointment with the doctor and he really wanted to make an effort with Roman. But he was much too scared of being rejected when Roman inevitably found out he had a crush on him. Picani wasn’t frustrated with him when he admitted he’d chickened out, much to Virgil’s relief. Instead they talked about how the coping tools he’d recommended were working out and then they talked about the fun things he’d experienced that year. “Hold on, you described yourself and Janus as outcasts. But you just said that Roman, the main character of your year, as you described it, thinks you,” he pointed at Virgil with his pen, “are cool. I normally advice against this, but maybe you should pay more attention to the rumor mill in school Virgil, and see if Janus’ view of you two might be different from that of everyone else.”

It was an interesting thought. And Virgil did just that. Over the next week he eavesdropped on conversations where he heard his name drop. And what he heard, boosted his confidence to say the least. People called him brave, and attractive, smart and mysterious. They were hyping each other up to ask him out. Some were questioning why he was wasting his time with someone as ‘sketchy’ as Janus. “Doesn’t he know what that guy is like?” “Wouldn’t surprise me. That snake seems like the type to strangle a kitten with one hand while offering Anker some chocolate with the other.” He didn’t really like that bit. But the rest was pretty good.

Then there was his meeting with Patton Bonnaire. He’d left his third appointment with Dr Picani and decided to catch a ride home with his dad, considering he would be done soon. He was working on his mysterious ‘project’ over the weekend. The university wasn’t far from Picani’s office. Virgil told the receptionist who he was and sat down to mess around a bit on his phone while he waited. “Hello?” Virgil looked up to find a man his father’s age looking at him with a curious smile. He was dressed funny. Light blue cardigan and a grey sweater tied around his neck. Like some sitcom version of a suburban gay dad character. He looked very nice though. Wide bespectacled blue eyes and freckles all over his cheeks. “Um… hi,” Virgil greeted as he got up and offered his hand. “Virgil Anker, I’m waiting for my dad,” he explained. Seeing a random teen at the university on a Saturday afternoon would be rather surprising. “Oh my goodness! You are Logie’s son!” Logie? Virgil felt a smile fight to break free. This was going to be good. “Um… Logan Anker is my dad yeah… he told you about me?” he asked politely. “Oh, you’re the only way anyone can get him to talk about anything other than work. I know all about you, but I still don’t know what kind of cookies to bake for his birthday,” the man pouted. No, that’s not fair! Virgil didn’t know how to deal with disappointed faces like that! Well, considering his dad had told this man all about him already, it was probably fine to tell him this little thing about Logan. “Anything with Crofters Jam and you are his hero,” Virgil divulged, with a mildly devilish smirk, imagining the look on his father’s face when he suddenly received treats with his favorite guilty pleasure. How the man pulled it off, Virgil didn’t know, but he could swear the man’s eyes sparkled. He grabbed his hand in both of his and started jumping up and down excitedly. “Oh kiddo! Thank you so much! My name’s Patton! I teach moral philosophy. I love your cool jacket, and you did your make-up so well!” Then he lifted his sweater sleeve to reveal a heart shaped emblem on the cuff. The heart wore glasses and brandished the pan colors. Patton winked indicating he picked up on Virgil’s color scheme. Virgil smiled. “Thanks, I made it myself,” he informed him. “Wow! Such a talented kid! No wonder your dad is so proud of you!” Patton gasped in awe. Virgil blushed. “I’m alright,” he said dismissively, not very used to that type of praise from an adult. Patton reminded him a little of Roman. “Now, don’t say it like that. The design is good and you’ve sown it so well! Did you teach yourself?” Virgil nodded. “Well that’s amazing. I’m not surprised though. Whit a dad as clever as Logie.” Virgil is so going to tease his dad with that nickname. And maybe set these two up. At least if he isn’t the mysterious ‘project’. Was this dad’s way to hide that he’s trying to date? Patton was clearly interested. Ew… why does he even have to think about this? Scratch that. He knows why, he’s the only wingman his dad has. Technically there is uncle Thomas, his dad’s old college friend, but last time he’d tried to set Logan up, they’d ended up not talking for a month for some reason. As far as Virgil knew he hadn’t dated anyone since he adopted Virgil. The man needed to get out of his office. “For how long have you known my dad?” he asked curiously. “Oh we both started here around the same time. He won’t admit it, but I think I’ve… Crofted my way into his heart.” Virgil, not used to dad jokes, couldn’t help a chuckle. “Oh, you are so precious! Can I keep you?” Patton pleaded, only half joking if Virgil read him right. “Ask my dad out and maybe I’ll end up calling you papton.” That was terrible but Patton seemed to love it anyway. Then the rest of the sentence seemed to register and he blushed. “Um, wait no. I mean…” he sighed and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m that obvious?” “Only a neon sign with ‘date me Dr. Anker’ would be more obvious. And in my dad’s case, you might need that. He’s a bit dense when it comes to matters of the heart. I don’t think he’d notice if you had his all pitter Patton.” This gets him another bout of laughter. “You shouldn’t sell your old man short though kiddo,” Patton manages a few moments later. “He was a tad stiff in the beginning. But recently he’s quite lit, I believe the word is?” Virgil froze when he saw Patton dig through his messenger bag and retrieve copies of familiar cards. “He let you copy his flashcards?” he asked in surprise. “Oh, yes. I walked in one day to borrow a marker and heard him say ‘cobi’? He was tossing something in the trash and the class applauded. So I asked his secret and he showed me his cards. I asked if I could borrow them and…” Patton couldn’t finish his story because Virgil had lost the battle with his composure. He was laughing. Tears streaming down his face and clutching his stomach, barely keeping upright. “He actually said… god, I didn’t expect…” he wheezed.

“Virgil!” At the sound of his dad’s distressed voice he looked up and struggled to signal that it was alright. “Virgil if you can hear me squeeze my hand.” Oh no, dad thinks I’m having an attack. “Fine, fine,” he managed as he squeezed the hand that held his. “Just, can’t… Oh my god, hilarious,” he wheezed. “Virgil, are you having an attack?” He shook his head impatiently and tried the breathing exercise Picani recommended. It worked, surprisingly. Pretty soon he whipped at his eyes though he would have to wash his face in the restroom unless he wanted to look like a horror movie monster. He looked up at the two men in front of him. Patton was absolutely smitten. Seeing his dad in protective parent mode clearly didn’t turn him away. Quite the opposite. “You are using the vocab cards,” he explained. “Of course they were a gift from you, why wouldn’t I use them at any opportunity?” Patton clasped his hands in front of his mouth to stifle a squeal. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yes, because you were complaining about not understanding some of the things your students were saying. I didn’t expect you to actually start yeeting your trash.” And then his dad readjusted his glasses, looked him dead in the eye and said: “Yeet is for distance. For trash I need accuracy, therefore the term used is ‘cobi’.” Virgil lost it again. His dad just… Gods he can’t wait to tell Roman… Wait, since when was Roman the first person he thought about to tell stuff like this. They weren’t even really talking right now. But telling Janus felt… when was the last time he and J had a proper conversation? Before summer? Yeah some time before art week. These thoughts brought down his mood enough to get him to stop laughing. Picani might not be entirely wrong to suggest that the friendship was in serious danger of becoming toxic. Though he didn’t use the label, Virgil could read between the lines. “Anyway, great meeting you Patton. It’s good to know dad has someone so nice looking out for him.” Then he turned to his dad. “You should invite him over for dinner some time. He’s a lot of fun.” Patton’s face became beet red, but more importantly his dad was getting flushed as well. “Well, you two talk about that, I’m going to wash my face,” he stated as he marched away, feeling rather good about himself. He always felt better about everything after a visit to doctor Picani. In the morning doubts and worries would return in full force. But right now, he was feeling good. When he returned he saw his dad standing alone, staring off in the distance. “Dad?”

“Dr. Bonnaire asked me on a date,” Logan breathed. “I think you can call him by his first name if that’s the case,” Virgil grinned. “I… I suppose…” His dad was in shock… wow. “You did say yes right?” Virgil clarified. “I… yes, I don’t know what came over me… I’ve never…” “Wait… you’ve never been on a date?” God the man who had the talk with him had never been on a date. “Not like this!” Logan exclaimed with a wild gesture, surprising Virgil. If he raised his voice this has to really be bothering him. “Last time, I was an arrogant college student who felt like he had to answer to no one but himself. Now, I am a single father, going out with a coworker. This is an adult outing. I can’t just…” Virgil smiled sympathetically and patted his father on the shoulder. “You really like this guy huh?” Logan sighed and nodded with a blush. “He’s so patient and friendly and… I just never thought he could ever…” “Now stop it right there. Me turning out like a somewhat stable person, proofs you are awesome. And you just showed him all the reasons why he should date you while taking care of me. You’re welcome by the way. Patton is cool. He’s already met your kid and passed the test. The scariest bit is over.” Suddenly his dad turned towards him and grabbed his shoulders. “You’re really fine with me going out with him? With me possibly entering a romantic relationship?” Virgil shrugged. “I mean, I’m not a fan of the change, but I want you to be happy. And if Patton is your pick… I wouldn’t have suggested he come over for dinner if I didn’t like him.” Virgil rolled his eyes, but the gesture lost some edge when his father hugged him. “I am fortunate to have you as a son.” Virgil shoved him away, blushing awkwardly. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever Logie,” he huffed getting a flustered stammering as a reward. “Let’s go home,” he suggested with a smirk before heading to the parking lot. The date was planned for the next weekend, after Halloween. And for Virgil it was a Halloween to remember.

He really wanted to go all out, Halloween was his favorite day of the year. But he didn’t want to ruin his costume or get Janus on his case. So, for school, he went with the bare minimum vampire costume, leaving his more elaborate creation for the trick or treaters to enjoy. He was texting his dad, who was still nervous about his date, and waiting for class to start when his day went from okay to awesome. “Greetings peasants!” the booming voice sounded warm and teasing and drew all eyes to the dark prince who’d just entered. Roman stalked trough he class, ‘scaring’ everyone with grand gestures with his arms and even drawing a fake sword threateningly. Making promises of never ending suffering upon the land. Virgil texted his dad that he’d talk to him later and to focus on his classes for now. Eventually Roman pulled back his chair and climbed on it, planting one of his feet firmly on their desk and raising his sword to the sky. “I! Prince Roman of the damned marshes declare war on all that is good and pure!” he bellowed. Virgil leaned back and enjoyed his front row seat. “And you,” he held out a hand to Virgil as if offering to pull him to stand at his side. “my coldhearted friend, may rule at my side!” he announced dramatically. Virgil felt a rush of adrenaline. Roman had effectively pulled him into his improvisation and Virgil didn’t feel like backing out of this challenge. Even if it involved having all eyes on him. “Is that a fact?” he chuckled amused, but otherwise uninterested. He had to be in character after all. And he didn’t look like a vampire bent on world domination. “Of course!” Roman’s delight at his participation settled warmly in his stomach. “You, dear count, are the only other of noble lineage! No one else is worthy of a throne!” Virgil did his best ‘whiny teen’ voice for his reply. “But ruling sounds like a lot of work.” To his surprise this got him a round of laughter, the good kind. People found him funny. “Then you may feast on my enemies!” Roman offered, not missing a beat. Now they were talking. But just then class started. Roman sat down next to him and shot him a hesitant smile when their eyes met while they got their books ready. Virgil felt kind of bad. Roman must’ve been wondering what he did wrong to go from ‘almost friends’ to ‘barely get two words that are not about class’. He returned the smile warmly, making sure that he knew that he was back. Janus criticized the whole endeavor of course, but Virgil didn’t really care anymore. “Roman and I are lab partners, and we’re going to talk. And sometimes we’re going to have fun doing so. You have zero right to tell me who I can and can’t spend time with. I’m not your pet.” That shut Janus up. Perhaps he finally realized that he was acting the way he’d always said Roman would if Virgil gave him the time of day.

Virgil sat alone during Spanish, Janus had an exemption for his language elective because he was already proven fluent in both offered languages. Virgil had no clue what Jan did with the free hour, and he didn’t really care. “Hey, Virgil?” Virgil looked up and saw that some guy from Roman’s usual group had paused at his desk. He was dressed like a crazy professor. “Hi?” he greeted, not sure what had brought this on. The other boy grinned and offered his hand. “I’m André. I’m friends with…” suddenly he chuckled to himself and changed his posture and voice to fit his character more. “I mean I am a humble servant to Prince Roman. I have heard you have allied yourself with him for the day?” he inquired. Virgil chuckled. “Depending on how it goes the alliance might last past midnight,” he allowed. Then, as if on cue, the doubt started to creep in. “You have a problem with that?” he asked slightly challenging. “No my liege, never!” André assured him. “We have all been eager to meet you. A friend of the prince, after all, is already family to us.” It was exaggerated, but the sentiment was clear. He wasn’t seen as a threat, in fact he was already considered part of the group even if he never hung out with them. Before Virgil could really say anything the class started. André joined him on their way to the cafeteria and asked about how he did his hair and where he got his hoodie. He was halfway asking for a commissioned jacket when they entered the cafeteria and Virgil was pulled towards a table in the middle by an excited Roman. “At last there you are. It’s time to introduce these cryptids to their new rulers!” Virgil looked up at Roman who gave him a questioning look. He could decline, return to his little bubble of anonymity and pretend this never happened. But… Maybe, hiding away all his life wasn’t how he wanted to live it? So, why not? No hiding today. Or not unless he really had to. “With pleasure Princey,” he grinned, feeling satisfaction in being the cause of Roman’s delight once more. He did that. It was worth whatever Jan threw at him later.

They spent about ten minutes on improv and Roman managed to make Virgil forget about the audience completely. And when he, regretfully, left Roman to sit with Janus he could hear the whispers. But no one was laughing at him. There were so many looks of awe and admiration, it couldn’t not give him a little ego boost. “Talk about putting yourself on blast! What were you thinking?” Janus seethed. “Yolo,” Virgil shrugged, grinning as he imagined his dad saying it. “No one says that anymore,” Janus reprimanded. “It’s what I was thinking,” Virgil shrugged. Already planning his next act of defiance. He felt kind of bad taking advantage of his dad’s first date nerves and his worry for him, but if this was his teen rebel phase then there were worse things he could be doing while his dad was out of the house. “Are you sure…” “Yes! Just have a nice time. Text when you arrive at the restaurant and when you leave. I don’t have school tomorrow so don’t hurry home,” Virgil assured his dad. “Pat, steal his phone if he checks it even once during dinner,” he then instructed his dad’s date. “I will,” Patton winked. “Good, you crazy kids have fun and don’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to do,” he grinned teasingly. “Virgil!” his father chastised. “Love you too!” he shouted as he shut the door in his father’s face. Then he rushed upstairs and took out the vampire cape he’d worn for the trick or treaters this year. He then put on a black long sleeved shirt, black jeans and black converses and a cheap black zoro mask. He wasn’t planning on being seen tonight but if he was, he’d rather not be recognizable… and maybe the cape was more for dramatic flair. Roman’s antics had been kind of fun and he wanted to try it out for himself. No one was going to see it anyway. And if he liked it he might make himself a proper costume for future outings. He walked through some sketchy streets until he found what looked like a gang waiting for a victim. They didn’t see him thanks to his cloak and he hid himself in the shadows not too far from them. He took a deep breath and willed them to forget about their surroundings and instead focus on each other. It was easy when people were either not the sharpest mind or not really paying attention. He’d only gotten past his dad that one time because he’d moved in absolute silence. And that trick had taken a lot of energy. His peers in the hallways were easy because most weren’t even watching where they were going let alone trying to see where he was. This was a large group, but they were kind of preoccupied with their conversation and not very smart. So it was easy making them ignore the hand full of lost people that passed them by in a hurry that night. A buzzing in his pocket caught his attention. He checked who it was. Janus. That could wait. He wondered what other ways he could use his cloak for the greater good. Another buzz in his pocket. He checked. His dad. “Paying now, home in ten minutes.” That was his cue to go home. He’d only seen three would be victims, but those were three people who got home safe to their families and might not have otherwise. That was something. He knew that to him, one person coming home or not was everything. So feeling satisfied with his first attempt at true heroism he moved through the streets and hurried home. He just managed to hide his mask and hang away his cloak before he heard the front door. He threw on his headphones and put on some music while he sat himself on his bed. Hoping he’d look like he’d been distracting himself with music. Maybe it would be better if he wore more casual street clothes next time. There was a knock on the door and he pulled off his headphones. “Come in!” he called. His dad poked his head inside and let out a sigh of relief when he found him on the bed, not having a panic attack. “You should be asleep,” he pointed out gently. “I wanted to make sure I could tell you good night. How was it?” The soft look on his father’s face said it all. “I will brief you in the morning. Now you should get adequate rest. Sleep deprivation is detrimental to both your physical health and creativity.” Virgil thought it was kind of funny how his dad had started to use his artistic ambitions as motivation to take care of himself lately. “Okay, night dad,” he muttered in surrender as he got up to get ready for bed. “Night Virgil… I love you.” Virgil smiled. Dad was never one for saying the words. But ever since the start of this year he seemed to be making an effort to change that. It was nice. Virgil had always known, but hearing it meant more than he’d expected it would. “Love you too dad,” he told him, once more feeling a little guilty about sneaking out, and for planning on doing more of these dangerous things. But he was sick and tired of playing it safe all the time. He had the ability to protect others. He should use it for more than just some bullies. Science class was a lot more fun now that he and Roman were talking. It wasn’t very personal. They just exchanged witty banter and complained about school stuff. If he confided in Roman, Janus would hear and he didn’t want to upset him even more. Turns out Janus would absolutely bully others. Or well… Pick fights with classmates over little inconveniences. Luckily Roman wasn’t afraid of him like everyone else seemed to be. He even kept it somewhat civil, just staring him down until Janus backed off. Virgil wasn’t as patient. He didn’t like fighting in public like this, but he was just so done with this BS. Every confrontation made him wonder if this friendship was still good for either of them. But just because he was considering doing it didn’t mean he was ready to hear others outright say it. The rumors were one thing. People theorized on why Virgil was still friends with Janus now that he clearly showed his ‘true colors’ to him. All involved Janus being some sort of villainous mastermind and Virgil the tragic hero trying to save everyone at the cost of his own freedom, safety, or whatever. They were ridiculous, but he could deal. What hit him hard was when Roman voiced his concerns. Janus had been goading a senior into a fight, which was beyond weird. Janus knew that he couldn’t take him on. He always stayed far away from the arbitrary lines high school hierarchy drew between different years. Virgil wasn’t alone in breaking up the fight. Roman was talking the senior down while Virgil got Janus to follow him to their next class. The principle heard about the almost fight though and Janus was called out of class halfway through. Roman approached Virgil when they crossed paths on their way to their next classes. Still no Janus in sight. “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly. Virgil nodded as he collected his things from his locker, unsure what to say to Roman on this unfamiliar topic. This felt much more vulnerable than their usual chats. “Listen… I’m probably way out of line, but I don’t think I can handle seeing him use you like this any longer…” he started and Virgil, while he knew that Roman was absolutely right and that he probably should take the help he was offering, switched to survival mode. He didn’t want Roman of all people to see what a mess he really was. So he snapped. “You are right. You are way out of line. You don’t have the full picture and you have as much right to tell me what to do with who as Janus. So back off!” he growled before storming off. He regretted every word before he was even around the corner. That night he worked for hours on an apology. The next day he slipped Roman the note. It basically said that he appreciated the worry, but that he had it handled. Along with an apology for being a rude idiot. Roman tucked the note away and gave him a thumbs up to show it was okay. His dad’s date with Patton went well. Not a day went by where Virgil didn’t hear at least one thing about Patton, good or bad. Apparently his father could get a little frustrated with Patton’s humor and his excitement could be overwhelming at times. But even with all that the man made his dad happy with his warm and understanding nature. They’d only had one fight Virgil knew of, and that was resolved quickly. It was good to see his father be excited . It also made Virgil feel bad to realize he’d been so unhappy all this time because of… “Your father’s choices and issues are his to handle Virgil. It’s not fair of you to put the responsibility of his happiness on you.” Virgil looked up and sat back upright in the couch, folding his legs underneath him and studying his nails. He’d gotten a new galaxy polish the day before. He briefly wondered if Roman would notice. He always seemed to see it when Virgil changed something about himself. He forced himself to return his attention to the conversation at hand. Picani probably had a point. Still… “He’s known Patton for years, and I’m pretty sure they’ve both been interested in each other for a long time… if not for me…” “If not for you he might not have taken the job at the university in the first place. It’s like in The Prince of Egypt. When Mozes found himself in the nomad’s camp he felt unworthy of their kindness. But the priest told him that it wasn’t a single man’s place to judge the worth of his life. You’d have to take a step back and oversee all the people you’ve met and the effects you’ve had on their lives and how that ripples throughout the world around them.” “Wow, a movie. Out of cartoon references?” Virgil teased, choosing to table the doctor’s point to think about later. “I like to broaden my repertoire from time to time,” Picani admitted. “So… Have you told your prince yet?” he queries letting go of the subject in favor of another tough discussion. “I… We are barely friends. I don’t want to push him away like that.” He expected Picani to draw a comparison to Kim Possible or something. But the doctor could surprise him sometimes. “Could it be that your father had similar reasons not to pursue a romantic connection until now? Out of fear of upsetting a status quo he felt comfortable with?” Virgil frowned as he considered that. Maybe, maybe he had a point. His dad was one for schedules and predictability. A new addition to their family dynamic would shake that up. So, maybe his dad had needed a shove in the right direction. Should he… No Roman is straight. Nothing good is going to come from this. “You mentioned that he said he hadn’t expected to care so much for you. Sometimes you don’t know what you want or need until it falls into your lap. Your father didn’t know he wanted a son until he had one. And similarly he might not have known he needed a partner until you shoved him and Dr. Bonnaire together.” That…Well he had a point there, maybe. He also made Virgil feel so relaxed at times that he wanted to open up about his gift, even if just a little. Just mention that sometimes weird things happened. But he wasn’t sure if being gifted was one of those ‘if you might put yourself or others in danger’ exceptions to doctor patient confidentiality. Being a hero in the shadow’s had downsides though. He wasn’t authorized to make arrests. He didn’t have any kind of professional protection or equipment, and the police didn’t know who he is and to let him do his thing. Virgil had decided how he wanted to change the city though. He would listen in on conversations, record them without risk of being caught. And if those recordings ended up with the police and that lead to actual arrests... well that was almost as good then wasn’t it? He had plans for more daring escapades later. When he got better at healing and hiding. Baby steps. But that rule couldn’t apply to everything. After almost two years of dancing around Janus’ jealousy and his own wishes to make some other friends, the straw that broke the camel’s back came in a startling realization that brought everything crashing down. “Sociology would be a good choice.” Virgil hummed absentmindedly as he chewed on his sandwich and looked over the offered elective classes. The past two years he hadn’t been sure what to take and joined Janus in whatever he picked. But after a full year of hearing Roman encouraging his art, he’d spent a few Friday afternoons in the studio. He’d been surprised at how accommodating and understanding the other artists were. They saw him work with his headphones on and left him alone. No one looked at his art if he didn’t want them to and they didn’t care if he looked at theirs when they displayed it. They even asked him his opinions on their pieces. And rumors about his ‘talent’ had joined the whispers in the hallway he listened in on every now and then. “I was thinking to take an art elective,” he told Janus. “Why?” The question surprised Virgil. “Because I’d like to actually learn some techniques? I dunno. They say to pick something that fits our interests. I’m interested in art,” he explained a little annoyed. “But we can’t do anything with that in college,” Janus pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “I suppose it’s a decent extracurricular,” he allowed before going off in a rant: “though something with sports will be better. College’s eat that stuff up…” Janus kept talking but Virgil didn’t really listen anymore. He just realized something. Jan never stopped talking about decisions he made as if they were for the both of them. Even now he talked as if Virgil would even consider joining the football or debate team with him. Virgil who hated public speaking and would have a panic attack at the thought of football practice alone and all the injuries that could happen. “But… I really want to do art. The new teacher is a pretty awesome artist I’ve been kind of following for a while. This might be my only chance to learn from him,” Virgil pointed out. He really hoped that Jan had just not realized he was talking as if Virgil would follow him wherever he went. “Don’t be dramatic V. It’s not like you can make a career out of drawings.” Virgil thought back to every time Roman had praised him and said he had potential. Wasn’t that how friends were supposed to act? His dad, who had the job of keeping his feet on the ground was more supportive of his interest in art than Janus was being. “It makes me happy,” he muttered feeling hurt and rejected in a weird way. “A career isn’t about what makes you happy, it’s about what gets you ahead in life.” And the tone made it clear that Janus wasn’t going to talk about the subject any more. That was fine with Virgil. He too, had made a decision. The next appointment he sat himself on the edge of the couch and looked at Picani with an intense determination. “I’m ready.”

A hard won victory.

Masterpost

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

#sanders sides #ts sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #hero au #Long chapter #sorry #tw #food mention #mention of panix attacks #janus makes bad choices

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stardancerluv · 3 years

Text

Brother’s Keeper

Part 3

Summary: Things can’t stay like this...while things become more apparent...

Note: last 2 time jumps...final age Reader 25, Branden 35.

2 years later

Brendan, ran his fingers through his hair as he contemplated his next move. JR was good but he was no Michael.

A smirked curled his lips. “Check mate.”

“Damn, how did you do that?” The kid complained.

He shrugged. “Don’t sweat it, I’ve been playing for much longer.”

He sighed annoyed. “I’m going to go jog a lap around the yard before I have to head back to the D block.”

Sterlo chuckled. “He has a lot of growing up to do.”

“Yeah.” Brendan slouched down in his seat with a sigh. A gentle breeze blew through the yard. His mind wandered, suddenly he remembered how one day, he had come over. Michael wasn’t back yet from the store and had caught you dancing to some song. Your hair flying, you were smiling. You had flushed when you had seen him standing there.

Damn, he would love to make you flush again. Though, now he imagined you now, a damn flower in bloom. The gentle wave in your hair, curvy hips, he could feel as your fingers tips were just barely grazing his goatee.

“Brendan?”

He startled awake. “Oh damn.” He sat up. “I’m not even tired.”

Sterlo, rolled his eyes. “You’re getting old Brendan.”

He reached over and pushed him. “I’m getting fucking soft.”

“Alright, maybe that.”

Brendan, sighed and pressed his lips together. He was getting soft cooped up in here. Sure he used the weights. But this was not good, he needed more of an edge.

Though what lingered, he was trying to ignore, it but the knot that formed in his gut as he dreamed of you dancing. You were nearing his age when he got locked in here.

“Brendan, a letter.”

“Thanks.” He was grateful, that now a decent person was in charge of the mail. He didn’t have to play games to get his mail delivered. Looking, down he tried to keep his face impassive as his heart picked up speed.

******

He was sitting on the chair, he looked good as he sipped away at his beer. You went over and straddled his lap. “What are you doing little blossom?” His voice was as raspy as it had ever always been.

“Giving you a proper welcome home.” You ran your fingers through his dark auburn hair as blue eyes shone looking at you.

A smirked curled his lips. “Oh? Are you?”

You drew close, your lips met his, they were cool from the beer.

Your phone rang to life and you gasped waking suddenly. Looking around your dream faded away. Grabbing your phone, you saw that it was Sam, your boss calling. Eyeing the time you grumbled. You had only left the bar a handful of hours ago.

“Hello Sam.” You said sweetly.

*****

Sitting at his small table, he carefully opened the envelope. Two small photos fell into his lap.

Your hair, your smile he just stared. The knot that formed in the pit of his stomach came back. The next one you where you looking off was beautiful. He wanted to run his hands through those soft strands. He shook. Putting the photos down, he opened the letter. He tried to push those feelings aside they were ridiculous.

Brendan,

I am done! Single again! Men are annoying. Why can’t I find one who will love and respect me?

What did that last one do? I’d take care of you. He dropped the letter. What the fuck, was he thinking. He couldn’t feed these thoughts. He did want to take care of you. But you didn’t need an old man like him.

Despite feeling incredibly torn, the idea of taking care of you brought a kind of lightness, it made him feel good. And none of this was because of the promise he made to your brother.

I’m sorry I shouldn’t be whining. This last one was just horrible. He was jealous. He didn’t like me working at the bar. In one of our arguments, he had the nerve to slap me. Well, you don’t slap me and get away with it. He’s gone!

Y/N, he thought to himself if I had been there, that guy is bloody lucky I’m not. He may be missing a hand.

But how are you? How is that kid, he’s not kist some punk is he? Does he know any of the tricks, Michael would try to pull on you.

The kid is alright. He’s not a huge pain in the ass. Though, he is no Michael. At least the games are alright.

My boss told me today that I was one of the best girls on his staff. He gave me a raise. I certainly work hard for it. Though, I wish it was more established, refined place. I’d never tell him that.

I hate that you work there. Can’t you find something else? Well, at least he appreciates what he has in you.

Brendan, I know I said I would let it be. But I really wish I could visit you. I miss you. I think its not fair that murders get visitors and you don’t. Life is not fair.

♥️Yours always,

Y/N

*****

He folded the letter away with a sigh. Getting up, he pushed the buzzer and waited.

A guard walked up, looking as stern as ever.

“What do you want Lynch?”

“I want make a phone call.”

“Alright. Come on.”

******

The conversation was short and to the point. With the boy and Sterlo, he would finally get out.

Now the itch for freedom was planted. The day could not come soon enough.

*******

You were upset, the letters from Branden had been growing shorter lately. You leaned against the bar as you surveyed the place. It was still fairly busy for a Wednesday.

You desperately wanted a distraction. Perhaps, you could ask your boss for some days off.

*****

6 Months Later

Today was the day. He tucked away the photos you sent him on his person. They could do this. They were all going to get out of there.

Branden, nodded and the kid grabbed the one guard. It was the right one. Holding him they easily got through all the right gates. “There’s out escape.” Branden felt excitement rush through him when he saw the helicopter hovered before touching down in the yard.

Soon the helicopter touched down it was already kicking up all the dirt and dead grass.

“Let’s go.” He hollered over the noise.

They moved as a unit. They were not far from the helicopter. When suddenly one of the doors opened and a few of the guards grabbed Sterlo, a struggle ensued.

Branden ran over to the helicopter, he saw a familar face and smiled. He knew his friend Chris would pull through. He offered him a hand. He climbed in and grabbed a gun. “I need to get those guards off Sterlo and the kid.” He shouted.

He took aim and began shooting above the guards’ heads. With no hesitation, they released Sterlo, none of them wanted to die. Sterlo broke free and running, and together him and the kid made their way over. He had never seen either of them move that fast.

Once in the helicopter, it climbed higher and higher into the air. Yet, as it climbed and went further away, it wasn’t till the prison was far from sight did he finally begin to taste his freedom. But he craved more.

******

“Y/N, can you come over here?” Your boss had come out of his office and gestured for you to join him in his office. He took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling towards the celing blue blums of smoke drifting about him like a fog. You, had gotten used to it that you no longer coughed. Though it still turned your stomach.

“Yes, sir.”

He rose an eyebrow.

“Yes, Sam?”

“Much better.” He took another drag before continuing. “I am sending you home early today.”

Your mood brightened. “Oh, thank you!”

“I’m not done, then you can thank me.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

He gave you an easy smile. “It’s alright, I’ve always been fond of your enthusiasm.” You smiled. “Tomorrow, we are not opening. Some important, people are coming back into town and we are giving them a very warm welcome home.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.” You caught yourself, so you gave him a shy smile.

“Right. Sorry, Sam.”

“So we are throwing a huge fucking party at my house. These are big guys. They worked hard, for a very longtime. They deserve to party hard. I want you to help with that.”

You gestured to yourself.

He nodded. “You better believe it.” He took out his money clip, that always looked close to breaking since the wad of cash was always too big. Opening it, he pulled off four hundred. Your eyes grew.

“This is for you my silly girl.”

He handed it to you. You put it down. “I could not possibly.”

“Actually, here take a little more.” He peeled off a couple more hundred. “Go to the spa and get a massage. Have your hair freshened up, maybe a manicure or whatever you girls do. I want you glowing and happy.”

“Sam?” It sounded amazing but what did you have to do in return.

Sam must have seen your concern because he got up and came around to you. “I want you to treat yourself better then when that guy got fresh with you.” He leaned against his desk as he looked at you. “Grab a dress and a bikini for tomorrow.” He laid the money beside your hand.

What could you possibly need a new bikini for, your concern continued to grow. “But Sam, how could I possibly?” You moved your hand away from the money.

One of his age worn hands, grabbed yours and squeezed. “You’re beautiful and delightful. Just be yourself. Dance with them, maybe have a few drinks. And if they want to take a dip in my pool, you will swim with them.”

“But..but Sam.” Unease was beginning to make you ill.

“I’m not asking you to sleep with them. I have other girls for that. Just make them smile, keep them happy.”

You relaxed. “I can do that.” You gave him a bright smile.

“Good, I know you could.” He smiled at you.

“I almost forgot, you should know, how grateful I am.”

“That’s a good girl. I know you would be.”

You finally took the money.

“Now remember have a few drinks, dance with them, even go swimming with them. But they want anything else and you politely introduce them to the other girls who I will be there.”

You honestly didn’t believe him. You should run, tell him to go fuck himself but you needed the money. One night and you could forget about it ever happening. Yes, you could forget.

“Thank you Sam.”

“You’re welcome. Now start now go, start having fun.”

You tucked money away. “What about my

tables?”

Sam smiled. “You’re such a good girl. Chloe can finish them up.

Tomorrow night would be interesting. This is something, you would never tell Brendan. He didn’t know how sometimes you sliced away at your soul, but you would never let it change your heart.

@mrskenobi19 @thebeckyjolene @sithonis @brookisbi @johallzy

#femi!reader #ewan macgregor #ewan mcgregor angst #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #branden lynch #branden lynch imagine #branden lynch fanfiction #branden lynch angst #branden lynch x reader #branden lynch x y/n #branden x you #son of a gun #son of a gun angst #son of a gun fanfiction #brother’s keeper #part 3

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years

Text

Blight | Epilogue

Jeon Jungkook/Reader [F]

Genre: Dragon/Shapeshifter AU, Magic AU, Enemies to Lovers

Warning(s): a very very brief mention of phantom pain, that’s it!

Rated: PG-13

Words: 5.5k

“Babe, we have to get up,” a distinctive voice grumbled from behind you after their fit of arm swings to knock the alarm clock off its perch on the bedside table ended. Although a sentence of action, both you and the man laying behind you were reluctant to move a single inch. The mattress too soft, the morning sun from the window too warm and the small, soft hum of the music playing from his phone too tempting to fall back asleep to.

You felt him move around behind you. His legs that were between yours like zipper teeth moved to untangle and left your skin cold. You grumbled when he moved and took his arms away from your waist next and rolled so the warmth of his chest left your back.

The box spring whined under the weight movement on the mattress as he sat up and stretched behind you. He planted his hands beside him as he looked at you, still not moving. He was tempted to set the alarm back off. It used to take an army to get him up, but after living with you and sleeping beside you for so long- he’s learned that you were harder to wake up than he was. He chuckled and you heard him and pushed your chin under the blanket that was over your shoulder. Content on ignoring him and going back to bed.

“Y/n, seriously. We have to go to Jimin’s today. If we don’t we may not see our son again for another week,” Jungkook teased behind you. You finally squint open your eyes as you looked over your shoulder to your dragon husband. His golden, shirtless body fresh of sleep gleaming too brilliantly for the early hour.

When you both finally graduated, Jungkook had already been making plans on where you would live after you both got booted out of the dorms after graduation. Yoongi had already moved back in with his dad until he got his own place and Jimin also joined the little family in the small cottage. You didn’t want to impose on Parrish- who you finally stopped calling Uncle and started calling dad- and overfill the house.

Instead, Jungkook offered to get a place together. It wasn’t so surprising seeing as Jungkook had been your boyfriend for 3 years by that time. It took nearly two weeks before you both were sitting down and signing a lease for a suburban house in the city. Along with that, you both chose to take on typical human jobs in the city you lived in as opposed to magic-based jobs most bewitched graduates aim for.

When you first started moving in, Yoongi and Jimin had come to help. Jimin helped you set things up while Yoongi and Jungkook carried in boxes and furniture. Jimin quite enjoyed it, so much that when he convinced Yoongi to move to the same city as you and Jungkook with him, he applied to a company in need of an interior designer. Yoongi got a small-time job at some edgy-teen shop but was somehow contacted by some clothes designer to be used as a model. He’s been with them ever since.

Now, later and you still lived in that same house you got with Jungkook. You were currently out of a job, since your last one laid you off- the assholes- and Jungkook worked at a small daycare about 10 minutes down the main road. You never actually knew the extent of how much Jungkook liked kids until you went to bring him the lunch he forgot at home on the counter and saw him with two kids tucked under each arm, swinging in circles like an out of control carousel.

He was also one out of only a few men who worked there, the remaining staff of females all had nothing but good things to say about your hubby. He was good with kids and they said he had a special knack for getting them to stop crying. Some say it was because his rosy pink hair made the kids feel like their talking to a superhero. Of course, the staff also knew about him being a dragon- he accidentally let it slip when he was caught blowing fire into the oven to heat it up faster- not the wisest idea.

However, his dragon traits worked out- especially in the case of the little girls who wanted to play ‘princess’ in the fake, plastic castle outside by the sandbox. Jungkook was always the dragon and was always being ‘slain’ by the little boy who came to rescue the princess. They gave him a cookie each time they played though- as a reward.

To follow, you remember when you got engaged to Jungkook who was right now nudging your shoulder to wake you up. He had dressed up to impress- an ironed button-up shirt in the softest shade of yellow, tucked into light jeans that complimented his lower half almost too well. The belt around his waist reminded you just how small it was. His hair was brushed and pulled just out of his face enough to show his forehead- you knew he had to have gone to the salon for that.

He urged you to get dressed because he was taking you on a spontaneous date with the reason being ‘he just wanted to’. You, having no reason to argue, went with him before he was taking you outside and walking around.

Down past downtown, there was a giant park for people to visit and walkthrough. With hedges of flowers, to circles paths with fountains and benches, a playground for kids and even a small theatre for outside performances. Of course, the entire place was littered with trees and being the middle of autumn at the time, leaves of all colors were being blown off branches and onto the ground for someone to step on them with a satisfying crunch.

He asked you to marry him when he stopped you in front of one of the fountains with a small, silver ring to offer you. You cried and so did he before he was calling Jimin to say that you had said yes to him. Of course, all he got from Yoongi was a short congratulations and a threat to not do anything to you or else the warlock would be after some new, shiny pink scales.

However, when Yoongi texted you later that evening, he unraveled a long, heartfelt congratulations to you. Ending it with the fact that you deserved to be happy and if it had to be anyone, he was glad you were marrying Jungkook.

“Oh please,” you slurred, finally starting to wake up against your will. “Jimin loves Eli,” you finished. For the past three days, Jimin and Yoongi had been babysitting their nephew, your son, simply because Jimin whined he didn’t get to see him enough. With the argument of ‘what if he grows up and doesn’t know me, that cannot happen!’, you yield and allowed the sleepover for 3 days to commence. It had been an extended weekend, so your 6-year-old son didn’t have school until tomorrow. Which is precisely why you needed to pick him up to bring him home today.

“I know,” Jungkook chuckled. “That’s what worries me. If he spends a fourth day over there, he’s gonna get re-adopted by Jimin.”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless, started to get up. The possibility of Jungkook’s joke is a little bit too accurate. Jungkook moved swiftly, grabbing under your arm to lift you to sit up as he held your hand. He had this thing about looking at your wedding band every morning when he woke up. He still laughs remembering the fit you put up when you realized you couldn’t put a wedding ring on your left hand if you don’t have a left hand. So, he had to swap out your engagement ring with your wedding one on your right hand.

You yawned again, checking the time. Almost 9am. You run your hand over your face before flipping your hair out of your face and beginning to scoot out of bed, inch by inch. Jungkook bounded out of bed quicker than you did as he jogged to your side and helped you stand.

You had pretty much got used to your life with only your right arm. You’ve had many people say that you could always work something out to get a prosthetic or even a whole new arm with magic, but you always refused. You had made a decision a long time ago, and your price was paid. You wouldn’t go back on that- you’re too stubborn.

Jungkook had you on your feet in moments as he pushed your hair out of your eyes and behind your head. He could still see the sleep clouding in your eyes as he smiled and kissed your forehead.

“Take a shower first,” he told you as he moved to take you out of the bedroom with a hand on your back. “We can go get Eli and take him out for lunch or something, I’ll call Jimin to tell him.” You wordlessly nodded, biting back another yawn as you both separated in the hall as Jungkook pat your ass. You went to the bathroom as Jungkook went to the kitchen.

You washed your sleepiness away in the warm shower that steamed up the bathroom before you were washing your hair. An everyday chore that became a talent when you learned how to do it all one-handed. You had to relearn a lot of things one-handed, but you thought of yourself as a talented woman if you could do all that and more with one arm.

When you got out and wrapped a towel around your chest, you padded back into your bedroom to go through your clothes to get something decent to wear out. You’ve been a bum the past 3 days. Without Eli begging to go somewhere and not picking him up from places, as well as Jungkook being the only working parent at the moment, you had no reason to leave the house. So it had been pj's and messy hair for 3 straight days.

Slipping on the least sexy pair of underwear you owned, but the most comfortable of all, you clipped on your bra and paraded around your room to your closet with your hair up in a towel wad. It was warm out now, the threshold between spring and summer getting closer each passing day.

Shrugging, you pulled out an off-shoulder white blouse with ruffles along the top of the fabric and a pair of black and white, pen-stripped shorts you had practically drooled at the moment you saw them in the store. Your blouse made it openly obvious to any onlooker you were missing your arm, yet the frills that hung off the sleeves and across the chest were just long enough to hide the scar left behind where your arm used to be.

The open shoulders also let anyone who happened to look at you see the bright, white tattoo on your shoulder and down your chest. An open display of your connection with your husband who happened to double as your familiar.

Pulling on some black socks one by one, you took your brush from your dresser top (you had two, one you kept in the bathroom and the other in the bedroom for your random urges to brush your tangled hair) and made your way to Jungkook. Following the sounds of clanking dishes in the kitchen along with the smell of borderline burnt toast.

Walking around the corner, you saw Jungkook snatch the toast just as soon as it popped up out of the toaster. Plopping it on his plate and smearing on an absurd amount of butter that melted almost immediately, you almost rolled your eyes. You eyed his back in silence, looking at the large, blotched scar on his back. The same scar you have nightmares about- the scar from the thunderbolt your father threw into his back all those years ago.

You also moved to look at the large tattoo of white on his left arm. Looking at it always made the vile bitterness in your mouth fade with the memory of his scar. That tattoo made you feel like there were all sorts of candies in your mouth as the butterflies fluttered in your gut.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he chuckled as he turned around. He bit into the corner of his toast, crumbs falling and catching onto the tassels of his sweats he wore as pjs. His face nearly split in half as he smiled and chewed, giggling between bites before the entire piece of bread was gone. He still gets as giddy as he did the first day he saw that tattoo each time he sees it.

“Can you tie my hair up for me today?” you asked him, a small pull on your lip as he was starting to move around the island counter towards you before you stopped him. “Ah! Wash your hands first, butterfingers.” He just rolled his eyes and made a dramatic scene of him washing his hands, using wayyyy too much soap and then drying them off before he was making grabby hands for your hairbrush. “You are such a child,” you laughed at him as you handed it over.

“I know,” he confirmed as he led you to a stool and sat you down, going behind you to pull your hair back and out of your face. “That’s what makes me such a catch.” He took a hair tie from the handle of the brush and put it between his teeth as he brushed with both the brush and his fingers. “How do you want it?” He asked.

You shrugged. “However? Just off my neck please.” He nodded, not that you could see it. He knew that you didn’t like your hair on your neck when you were going out in what would shape up to be a hot afternoon. Pinning it up first, he pushed your shoulders down when you moved to get up presuming he was done.

“M’not done,” he murmured in concentration. He had gotten a lot of practice doing hair from playing with the little girls at work. Working with hair from sleeky and blonde to frizzy and untamable and curled beyond belief. You just sat still, letting him work. He ran off once to grab something before he was back and was twisting and twirling your hair around his hand. He was pinning it with something before he was stepping back and clapping for himself for a job well done. “Alright, you can get up now.”

You did so and automatically moved to the living room where a small mirror hung beside a photo of Jungkook, Eli and you from last year’s family photo shoot. He had rolled your hair up into a bun behind your head and pinned it up with chopsticks. Well, one chopstick and a No.2 yellow pencil. You bit back a laugh and just smiled at him.

“It’s lovely, Jungkook,” you complimented. The smile on his face made you happy to wear his chopstick and pencil hair-do. “Go, get dressed and shower now.” You told him before he was kissing your cheek and running off to get ready for the day.

Coming back out with a white t-shirt, jeans and boots that made him at least 3 inches taller. Along with a black bomber jacket on. His hair only partially brushed, but whatever. It worked.

XXX

“Jimin! Hey, we’re here! I hope my son is too!” You called into the house as you and Jungkook walked inside. You had a third key to Yoongi and Jimin’s apartment- Yoongi giving you one when he lost a bet with you. What bet? Well, the bet that Jimin wouldn’t ask him out on a date before valentine's day. You bet that he would Yoongi was doubtful, but on February 13th, Jimin asked him to go on a date to the zoo (of all places).

Of course, the relinquishment of their third key wasn’t all that bad, I mean Yoongi lucked out with a hot, hellhound boyfriend by the end of the day. He wouldn’t miss that key anyways.

“Of course he is!” Yoongi yelled back. “He’s coloring with Jimin on the balcony!” He shouted in addition. You and Jungkook took off your shoes as you both waltz into the familiar apartment. Yoongi sat at his desk out in the living room, open tabs with words and photos on it. You padded up behind your brother, peering over his shoulder. Pictures of him in leather jackets and fishnet ripped jeans showing on the screen.

“Oh, are these from your last photoshoot with- uh, what’s her name?”

“It’s, Lily, and yes, it is. She wanted to do a greasy look, not sure how I’m feeling about it though.” He hummed as he pushed his knuckles into his cheek, bouncing his opinion of himself in his head.

“I think it looks really good on you.” You told him as Jungkook popped up on his brother-in-law’s other side and smirked.

“You look like a playboy,” he teased as Yoongi glared over his shoulder. You nudged Jungkook with a hushed ‘don’t be mean’. “I mean it in the most attractive, positive and encouraging way possible. I promise.”

“Whatever, snake boy.” Yoongi moved from his desk, closing the pictures and other windows before he was getting out of his chair and moving to the glass doors to the outside balcony. It was surprisingly spacious and large. Big enough for a small round table, two chairs and a little toy box with outside toys the boys kept at their place for when Eli does come over.

He knocked on the glass to get the attention of the two boys outside that were out of sight. He opened the door a bit before sticking his head out.

“Hey, little man. Mom and pops are here for you,” he spoke, a smile on his face. Yoongi opened the door fully as from around the corner, a small little ball of fury ran inside. Jimin came into the glass door’s view right after. His previous silver hair from school turned jet black due to his True Contract he formed with Yoongi. His eyes a permanent shade of silver as well.

“Mama! Papa!” Your son, Eli, shouted as he ran from outside to inside and caught sight of his parents. Jungkook knelt as Eli ran full force into his father’s arms as Jungkook didn’t hesitate to pick him up and swing him around. Lowering him back down to sit at his waist and against his chest, Jungkook chuckled as Eli clung to him, wrapping his small arms around his dad to hug him.

Jungkook set him down then as Eli turned to you as you knelt, hugging him on the ground. It was harder for you to pick him up with one arm now that he was growing. When he was younger it was easier.

Jungkook and you both decided to adopt Eli 3 years ago. When he was 3, he was chosen to be a part of your family. He wasn’t a full human, but he was bewitched just like the rest of your family. He wasn’t a Shifter like Jungkookor Jimin and he wasn’t a witch or warlock like you or Yoongi. Instead, he was a sunsprite half-blood.

His full head of blonde hair and golden eyes were enchanting and innocent to look at with his child demeanor. His nose and cheeks dotted with freckles as his skin was tanned even darker than Jungkook’s. He was the sweetest boy and you were happier every passing day that he was yours. Eli knew that Jungkook and you weren’t his real mom and dad, but he still loved you anyway.

You let go of your son as he moved to run back to Jimin outside who was talking to Yoongi at the glass door. Jimin looked down at him, smiling as he bent down to talk to him as you raise yourself back to your feet.

“What’s up?” Jimin asked.

“I have to clean up my toys!” Eli chirped. He was such a well behaved boy. Jimin nodded as he stood back up, taking Eli’s hand.

“Alright! Uncle Jimin will help you!” He giggled as the two disappeared behind the wall and ran back and forth with the toys that previously littered the balcony. Yoongi moved to sit on the couch and picked up a book he had bookmarked on the coffee table next to a mug of cold coffee. Or, well previously cold coffee that he heated up with magic as he took a sip.

For such a well-rounded warlock, graduating the top of his class and getting the rank of A-Class warlock, he sure decided to forego and use his magic for mundane things. Heating up his cold beverages just being one of the many things he does.

Jungkook moved to sit down on a recliner as you moved to sit beside Yoongi, asking him about his book before asking how Eli was over the course of his stay.

“He’s been fine, Y/n. You and Jungkook do a good job teaching him things. He’s not a hard kid,” Yoongi reassured. You often wondered if you were doing a good job raising Eli, seeing as you didn’t have the best upbringing. The fear always struck hardest when you were waking up in the middle of the night or just randomly jumping into pain in the living room. The moments your arm burned with phantom pain and when Eli was crying holding his sun warm hands to your arm as Jungkook held you. You son asking over and over ‘is mama okay?’. That’s when it was hardest.

Jungkook always reassured you every time though. “He always went to bed without a fuss and Jimin read to him when he wasn’t sleepy. He picked up after himself and he didn’t splash when he took a bath. All is well with the world and Eli,” Yoongi finished.

“Okay. I just get worried, you know.” You smiled. Yoongi pat your leg before he was pinching your cheek.

“I know,” he told you with that flat, soft smile that pushed at his cheeks he only gave to you- his little sister.

“Hey,” Jungkook interrupted the conversation, getting you and Yoongi to look at him. “We’re gonna take Eli to lunch, do you and Jimin want to come with us?” Jungkook offered. You smiled before looking at Yoongi. It took a long time for Jungkook to actually get accustomed to Yoongi’s presence once again. After you and him began a couple and the True Contract was finalized, Yoongi seemed to glare at him every time he saw him. Jungkook was the teensiest bit scared of the overpowered warlock and his overkill familiar- not that he’d admit it.

Him asking your brother and his boyfriend out to lunch with you- his wife- and his child was a big step from where he was years ago. Yoongi seemed to think a bit before he smiled and shut his eyes, shaking his head.

“Nah, we’ll let the happy family have their own lunchtime together. We spent 3 days with him, you can have him back.” You felt a little disappointed. A big family lunch was always fun, but you didn’t force him. You missed having quality time outside with your husband and child anyways. So, you won in the end regardless.

Soon, Jimin came back inside with Eli on his back. The toys picked up and back into the box outside. The glass door was shut and locked, the yellow drapes being pulled shut as Jimin let the young boy slide down his back to his feet. Yoongi got up off the couch as he started to make his way down the hall into the bedroom Eli had been staying in.

“Come on, little man. Let’s get your stuff. Your mom and pops are gonna take you out today.” Eli’s little face lit up with a glow that mimicked the sun as he ran to his uncle’s side and grabbed his hand. Holding it as they walked into his room and started getting his things together. Yoongi denied it, but he was so good with kids.

Jimin walked to you, plopping down beside you, opposite of where Yoongi was sitting before. He smiled, his wrinkled t-shirt obviously the same one he woke up in and never changed out of.

“You look nice today, Y/n.” He complimented as you smiled.

“Thanks. You look comfy.”

“I am!” He laughed as he slouched back on the couch’s arm. Jungkook behind him rolled his eyes at his best friend’s lazy behavior. The three of you started talking and somehow the conversation devolved to one about Yoongi’s photoshoot far too quickly. Jungkook told him about how he looked like a heartbreaker and how you thought he looked nice. Jimin began to go on and on about how he thought the look in question looked great on him and that leather looked especially good on his boyfriend.

“‘Cuse me, how about you stop this conversation now,” Yoongi piped up with a heated face as he came back into the room with Eli. A small, ninja turtle backpack on his shoulders and a spiderman lunch box filled with coloring books and crayons at his side. Yoongi never did take compliments well, especially when they're coming from his boyfriend about the way he looks in leather.

When Jungkook started teasing him, Yoongi told Eli to cover his eyes, in which the child did promptly, and then slim ribbons of black lifted Jungkook to the ceiling, hanging him upside down until he apologized. To which, Yoongi unsympathetically dropped him on his back. When Eli uncovered his eyes, he laughed loudly at his dad upside down on the recliner.

Soon, the trio were standing at the front door. Eli helping his mom put her flats on, even if she didn't need the help and Jungkook strapping on his boots. Jimin and Yoongi stood with them, Yoongi’s arm casually around Jimin’s shoulders.

Eli pulled on his shoes, singing a little song he learned at school on what shoe to put on which foot. The weak, led lights under his feet when he stomped lighting up a shade of red when he stood up and hopped. Eli waved to Yoongi as he high-fived Jimin’s outstretched hand.

“Bye-bye Uncle Yoongi and Uncle Jimin!” Eli cheered as he was soon ushered out the door by Jungkook who was already starting the car and racing Eli to the back seat to put him in his booster seat. He was still too small to be without one. You turned to the two men.

“Thanks for watching him, I think he enjoyed himself,” you giggled. You had no doubt lunch and the car ride home would be filled with stories of what he did with his two uncles.

“I love having him over, any longer and I would’ve just adopted him myself,” Jimin joked.

“Yeah, Jungkook said that too,” you told him. Jimin opened his mouth in offense as Yoongi laughed. Shooing you out before Jimin really does march outside and take your child from Jungkook and locks the front door.

As you knew, once you were in the passenger seat and Jungkook started driving, Eli started yammering on about all the fun he had. He talked about the shadow plays Yoongi put on about fairy tales. Or how Jimin would shift into his hellhound form and would carry Eli on his back- something Jimin would need to stop doing before Eli got too much bigger.

You watched him through the rearview mirror as Jungkook was part of the conversation while diligently watching the road. One hand of his was on the wheel, the other in your lap.

When you three pulled up to Eli’s favorite little fast food place with a giant play area, he was nothing but cheers and promises to behave. While you and Jungkook were easy-going parents, you’ve taken him home a handful of times due to his behavior or the occasional temper tantrum. Jungkook turned off the car and turned in his seat to look at the sparkling, gold eyes of his son.

“You promise not to be a bad kid? You’re gonna listen to Mama and Papa today?” Jungkook asked as Eli nodded fervently. Jungkook reached out to him, offering his pink. “You promise Papa?” Eli quickly promised his dad with his pink as Jungkook smiled. “Alright. Then, let’s go eat and have some fun.” You got out of the car as Jungkook unlatched Eli from his seat and the three of you went inside.

Eli spent over an hour playing with the other kids who were playing in the play area. Climbing walls, going down slides, and speaking through connected, plastic bullhorns. He loved coming here and you didn’t mind him blowing off his energy. He’d sleep well at least. Jungkook sat beside you on the bench for parents that ran along the room’s perimeter, his arm over your shoulders long the top of the bench.

You both spoke with other parents about how the kids always had fun. Even a few staff members spoke to you, you both being here often due to Eli’s love of the place you got familiar with some staff. You’ve even gotten a few coupons for your next visit too. Sometimes it pays to be a regular.

When Eli was done playing, Jungkook drove to the park when Eli asked if he could go see the flowers. He loved the flowers in the park because that’s where his mama and papa adopted him- or so they told him. He was too young to remember- only being three.

When the three of them got out Eli watched as Jungkook walked to your right. Eli opened his mouth, but shut it and whined. You turned around as your son was soon motioning for Jungkook. Jungkook looked at you before he knelt and let his son whisper in his ear. Jungkook rolled his lips over his teeth as he smiled and ruffled his son's sunny, blonde hair.

“Of course you can hold Mama’s hand, silly kid.” Jungkook chuckled as he poked Eli’s stomach. He had left his backpack and lunch box in the car as Jungkook locked it up and Eli jumped to your side. He grabbed your right hand with his left before he reached out his empty right hand. He smiled.

“Papa can hold my hand too!” He cheered as Jungkook nearly fell to his knees. The sunny smile of his cute son almost too much to handle. He took his son’s hand as the three of you started walking through the park. The two of you swung him from time to time before he wanted to sit down because his feet hurt.

The three of you sat on a bench in front of the same fountain Jungkook asked you to marry you at. Before long, Eli- still holding both of your hands- hand slumped against your chest, falling asleep. Before long he was passed out in a small nap as you just smiled at him. Jungkook brushed his child’s hair from his face before he leaned over and kissed his head.

“I think he had fun today,” you softly spoke. Jungkook nodded.

“He’ll be out for a while, but we’ll wake him up soon so he can sleep tonight,” Jungkook recalled he had school and ran through a checklist of what to do when they all got home. Empty out his backpack of fun weekend toys and storybooks and refill it with his pencil box and letter books for school.

“That’s true,” you replied. “You get to wake him up through,” you teased. Leaving the job of ‘bad parent’ to Jungkook. He gasped lightly before he sneered at you with a smile. His nose scrunching up before he was kissing your cheek again.

He leaned his head on your shoulder as he kept brushing his fingers through his son’s blonde head of soft hair. Poking his freckled cheek on occasion as Eli kept a firm hold on both yours and Jungkook’s hands.

“Are you happy, Y/n?” He asked out of nowhere. You looked at the crown of his rosy dragon hair. You smiled as you kissed his head to which you felt his cheeks lift as he smiled against your shoulder. “I’m making you happy right? We’re making you happy?” He gestured to Eli.

“You both make me more than happy. It’s hardly even a question.” You assured as he relaxed more on your shoulder. Before long you were having to wake up both your son and your husband who fell asleep on your shoulder on the park he proposed in. The park where you started your own family.

Yes, you were oh so happy.

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kisskissbanggang · 4 years

Text

Exposure

[15Min Read/3.8K Words - Idol AU - Jungwoo x Paparazzi Female Reader - NSFW/Smut - Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Public Sex, Fellatio, Light Degradation, Dom/Sub Elements]

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Your braids felt too tight. They probably were, but you had rushed to get out to this fanmeet when you caught wind of it. Your boss understood your strengths, and you weren’t about to let that down. Once you were able to get your shots, you wouldn't even think about the dumb braids anymore.

It all started when an exec tried to say you looked too young to be successful as a photographer. No one would take you seriously looking like a high schooler, apparently, and it ruined you for days until you passed by a group of fans waiting for their favorite actor to make an appearance at the mall. These girls got so close and they could get into events that press weren’t allowed into. Even though you had openly applied for a sketchy tabloid job, you knew you needed credits to get ahead, and now you wanted to prove yourself. You had ran home, dug out your high school sweatshirt, pulled your hair into some pigtails, and were able to give the same exec who turned you down some great candid shots.

So this is what you did now. You perfectly fit in with the gaggles of fansites that would crowd these events, and no one gave you any second glances. You carried your press badge hidden behind a photo card on a lanyard attached to your camera, swapping out photocards for whatever group you were chasing. Today was NCT 127, so the photocard attached to your camera was of Kim Doyoung who, according to your boss, was in talks for some new ventures and could use some new publicity.

You had chased the group for three days now but every time you attempted a good shot of him, Kim Jungwoo kept getting in the way. They were always shopping together or eating together or doing nothing at home together and you couldn’t get any good shots of this idol alone and the whole chase was driving you crazy. This fire in you blazed when you took this new batch of photos into editing and you noticed. Jungwoo recognized you. More and more in these shots, Jungwoo had caught you in the background of his day, and today he even smiled at you.

Your boss wasn’t pleased when you said you needed even more time to get some more shots, but nonetheless you still used the company’s money to get yourself on a train for the group’s next concert. This time, in addition to your girlish appearance, you had your equipment stashed in a backpack that you carried with you. You skipped the long line, though, and headed straight to the loading gate in the back of the venue. Press would never be allowed back here, but nonetheless you still walked up to security and did your best to look nervously excited.

“Oppa,” you modestly smiled at the young guard, really only looking a few years older than you, “you know, it's my birthday, and I saved up money from my part-time job for this concert for months to come here. I really would love to make it even more special.” The man shifted uncomfortably, clearly conflicted about throwing out a young woman just wanting to have a special day until you whipped out a small wad of cash to tuck into the pocket of his trousers. He bit his lip and slipped you a wristband before he ultimately stepped out of the way to let you in, pointing you towards the green room where you and the other groupies could wait.

You took your time navigating the back hallways of the venue, looking bright-eyed and lost and waiting to sneak out your smaller camera for locations like this. You clipped your press badge onto the strap as you slowly made your way through the backstage area, checking around green rooms and craft services before you came to the makeup rooms. It seemed fruitless, seeing these hallways were much emptier than those you just checked, but you needed to be sure. You slowly made your way down this corridor, taking the time to peek into every open door from the hallway, listening for voices and footsteps all the while, until a hint of motion caught your eye.

Without making any brash movements in the quiet hall, all you were able to make out was the sinful visual of a figure leaned back over a vanity in an otherwise silent and empty dressing room, a hand stroking their exposed length in their near-privacy. You didn't gasp, you didn't blush, you just felt yourself watch, almost shamelessly enjoying this little private show before the figure pleasuring themselves against the vanity straightened up, their pace on their cock quickening. Jungwoo turned and looked right at you, and now you did gasp, caught as you were, spying on him as he jerked himself. He didn't stop, either. He just watched you watching him, never letting go of himself or slowing. If anything, he became more earnest in his ministrations, holding eye contact as long as you could handle until you were suddenly very aware of yourself. Quickly, you dashed back down the hall, writing this venture off as a wash and trying to find Doyoung somewhere else.

In order to try and shake off the very different and very unprecedented incident that occurred backstage, you took the first vanilla opportunity your boss softballed out to the staff: a simple press event, a small demo and cocktail party for a trending fashion designer. Thankfully, even Doyoung was invited. You could probably get some good shots and have an easy night all things considered. You picked out a simple dress and jacket, something that wouldn’t make you stand out too much, and clipped your press badge onto a plain black lanyard to actually wear around your neck. Wearing your hair down was an active treat, not having to look forward to sore roots later in the night.

The party was pretty boring, but boring was what you needed. You were thoroughly set on edge after the other day, and you couldn't place why. You’d seen Kim Jungwoo in a few magazines and occasionally on TV when his group was doing variety, and more than a few times when out doing bigger industry events, but he’d never struck you as the devilish type. However, something about the way he confidently, almost defiantly held your gaze practically stupefied you, even days later. Finally, you caught sight of Doyoung, laughing and having a glass of wine with other tall, beautiful people. You grabbed a few shots before covering the rest of the party, but something caught your eye when you clicked through your digital display to review. Jungwoo. He’d brought Jungwoo with him.

“It’s a school night,” came a soft laugh over your shoulder, “shouldn’t you be home studying?”

You turned, rapidly growing sheepish as you were faced with Kim Jungwoo standing over you. “I’m sorry?” You apologized as you did your best to look like you didn’t understand.

“I was wondering when I'd see you again,” Jungwoo smirked, his soft eyes holding a mischievous sparkle in them. “How did you get in here?”

“I think you have me mistaken for someone else,” you smiled cordially.

“No,” Jungwoo insisted playfully, “I think you look like Doyoung-hyung’s new fansite I've caught poking around.”

“Fansite?” You shook your head gravely. “I'm sorry, sir, but I'm Press.” You held up your badge on your lanyard, jolting as Jungwoo brazenly reached forward to grab it. He flipped it around to expose Doyoung’s photocard. You must've forgotten to take it out amidst all your distraction.

“Did you enjoy your private show the other day?” Jungwoo chuckled, even stepping closer to talk low in the crowded party. “You could've joined me. I could've given you something worth shooting.” Jungwoo’s smile was genuine, soft and playful and innocent, but his eyes were hungry enough to make you plenty content with your coverage for the night and hurriedly excuse yourself from him and the party.

You should have guessed, then, that your boss wouldn’t be pleased to hear that you’d left early. None of your shots of Doyoung had been “provoking” enough for some affiliates, and now you were perched in the bushes outside of the group’s apartment in a last-ditch effort to catch something exposing, something titillating. You had waited all night, watching people come and go and you finally caught some action in an upstairs bedroom. The focus in your camera quietly clicked along after you zoomed in to get a better look. You clicked up your exposure length as you watched with endless satisfaction, catching Doyoung finally get out of bed to work out. He slipped his shirt off over his head, and you got to work, snapping shots of Doyoung’s measly workout routine before he retreated to go take a shower. You sighed, getting ready to pack up when a presence behind you made you gasp.

“You'll never graduate if you're always sneaking out,” Jungwoo smiled in the dark.

“What're you doing?” You asked accusingly.

“Me? I'm just going for a walk. You want to come with me?” You sought after a cheeky remark before Jungwoo pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you with the flash on, making you see spots. “See? I can take pictures, too. And I can show this to management and tell them all about the paparazzi posing as an adorable schoolgirl outside. How about that walk?”

You bounced your knee a little, shifting your weight from one foot to the other before you nodded.

Jungwoo offered you his arm and you curiously linked yours through, watching as he immediately softened and acted like this was just a fun night between two friends taking a walk in the nearby park, except you were still dressed in all black with your camera around your neck.

“I did a little snooping of my own,” Jungwoo mentioned, “after I saw your badge the other night. You take really good photos. You don't need to be doing this gonzo work.”

“I'm good at it,” you shrugged, “and I need the credits in my resume.”

“Well how many more do you need?” He asked you. Jungwoo’s tone caught your attention -- he was sincere. He was honestly interested in why you were okay doing this.

“I'll move on when I'm ready to move on--”

“You sure this isn't just easy?”

“Are you implying my work is degrading?”

“I'm saying your work is sleazy and gross,” Jungwoo huffed at you, “and I'd be a lot more attracted to you than I already am if you did work closer to your caliber.”

You paused, aghast. “Why aren't you more attracted to me as I am?”

“Because I've watched you follow us around for a week now, you didn't seem to have any problem watching me touch myself the other day, and I've never seen you without a camera.”

“If you're so disgusted by me, then why did keep going when I caught you?” You were challenging him now, squaring up against him as you passed a bench in the empty park, lit only by the moon through the clouds. You dropped your camera into your bag and set it on the bench before folding your arms spitefully.

“I was having fun,” Jungwoo grinned, “I thought we were having fun.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you’re the actual sleaze.” You smiled, cocky and triumphant before Jungwoo shattered you with a laugh.

“And you didn’t catch me. I saw you skulking around backstage. I thought you’d like to come join me.” Jungwoo reached forward now, pulling your hand from your folded arms and clasping it to draw you close. Something felt a little electric as you found yourself being compliant. “I like this secret spy get-up on you, but I think I prefer the innocent look.” You watched, dumbfounded as Jungwoo’s hand cupped your face before he suddenly grabbed your chin.

“Were you thinking of me looking innocent when you were jerking off?” You laughed nervously, eyes darting to make sure you actually were alone.

“Of course I was,” Jungwoo nodded soberly, “it’s only been getting worse since I first noticed you stalking us. I want to pull on your pigtails and see you in that school sweater again.”

“I can go home and get it,” you sarcastically offered, looking for an opportunity to get out and keep this encounter from getting messy.

“And let you leave?” He shook his head. “Not when I have you right here and all to myself.” Jungwoo’s arms circled your waist and pulled you close.

“What do you want?” You defiantly stammered. “Money? You want the photos I'm going to submit?”

“No,” Jungwoo smirked as he leaned his head in closer to yours, his lips barely hazing over yours, “I just want you to be good.”

“What?” You asked, barely a whisper, wanting to ask a million questions but nonetheless accepting when Jungwoo closed the gap between his lips and yours. He still held you close, nearly resembling two lovers in the park except you knew better, you knew what Jungwoo was chasing. You just had to decide to give it to him. You had to decide if you were okay feeling good when Jungwoo called you sleazy, if you enjoyed how he exposed you and made you feel vulnerable.

“Touch me,” he ordered softly, despite his hands finally relinquishing you. He understood the choice he gave you in letting go: obey, or run and take a chance that he would rat you out. You could clearly see the proud smile spread across Jungwoo's face in the dark as you tentatively reached forward, pressing your hand to his chest and letting it drift down his lean figure, only hesitating when you neared the waistband of his jeans. “Are you afraid?” He asked, almost soothingly.

“No,” you murmured, “just excited.”

Jungwoo’s hand closed around yours now, halting you. “Tell me why, first.”

“I'm curious about you,” you breathed, your hushed intrigue doing more than enough to let Jungwoo almost push your hand the rest of the way down to the button and zip of his jeans.

“Good,” he praised sweetly, his chest rising and falling hard as you got your hand in his jeans and around his member. “Now admit you've been thinking about me.”

“Yes,” you exhaled, practically trembling from excitement as Jungwoo turned you in his arms, pressing his length in your hand against the curve of your ass. “Ever since I saw it I've been thinking about…”

“Say it, cutie,” Jungwoo chuckled behind you, his lips trailing over the expanse of your neck.

“I've been thinking about your cock,” you admitted, and his member throbbed under your fingers as Jungwoo groaned. His own fingertips traveled around to your belly, dipping below your waistband to your quickly dampening heat. Your pussy accepted his probing fingers so easily it almost felt like a betrayal.

“And did you do anything about it?” He asked curiously.

“Not yet,” you shook your head.

“Awh, poor baby,” Jungwoo laughed, “too busy following us around? You've only had time to think about this?” He snickered at your pathetic nod as he ground his hips against your massaging grip. “You know, beautiful, you look just as filthy as I thought you would be like this.”

You earnestly nodded in agreement -- you did look filthy like this, knees squeezed tightly together with Jungwoo’s hand in your dark jeans and yours wrapped around his cock behind your back.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jungwoo smiled, “do you like that? Do you like being filthy?” He smirked at your renewed nod as his fingers massaged your wet pussy. “Then you're definitely my filthy girl. How about slutty? Are you my slutty girl?”

You swallowed hard at Jungwoo's teasing and deliciously embarrassing words. Were you a slutty girl? Maybe you could be, just for tonight. You didn't even realize you were nodding again and again before Jungwoo spanked your ass with a laugh. “Then I should give my slutty girl what she's begging for.”

Jungwoo’s hands pressed down on your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend over the park bench as he swiftly yanked down your jeans and panties. Then he paused.

“Put me inside you,” Jungwoo encouraged. You swallowed down a nervous gulp as you massaged his length in your hands a couple more times. You prodded the head of his cock against your entrance, quietly moaning and whimpering under your breath as you worked him inside you. “Oh, princess,” Jungwoo cooed, “my perfect, slutty princess. Now work your pussy for me.”

You nodded, overwhelmed by your own desire and compulsion to please Jungwoo. Fucking him was like nothing you’d ever experienced, where this was almost fun, like it was a game, and you had a chance to win. You pressed your hands to the cold park bench and worked your hips back, thrusting your pussy down around Jungwoo’s thick cock before he spanked you again.

“You're good at that,” he teased, “maybe we should make this a regular thing, where you can show me everything you can do.”

“Well, what about tonight?” You asked, finally piping up.

“Tonight,” Jungwoo began thoughtfully, “now that we've warmed up, you just have to take it.”

Before you could question any further, Jungwoo pulled out, his absence within you immediately felt. He turned you both, seating himself on the park bench and hauling you down perpendicularly on lap, hooking an arm under your leg to easily hoist you up and seat you on his cock. His lips searched for yours in the dark before he eagerly bounced you on his length, his hips bucking and rolling hard up against yours.

“You like it, right?” He asked so sweetly, his big smile at your exhausted nod making your heart throb. “How should I finish?”

“After I do, for starters,” you giggled, and his laugh combined with yours proved that this was just fun and games when all was said and done, that Jungwoo had no intent of turning you in despite any reservations he may have had about your job. His fingers cradled your chin as he kissed you, before they traveled down between your breasts, taking a moment to tease your nipples through your shirt before dipping down between your legs and continuing to rub your soaked clit again.

Picking up where he left off, and now doing all the work, it was incredibly easy to feel your orgasm coming on. Despite every tiny dissenting voice in your head telling you that this was too public, too obscene, Jungwoo held you close, almost cradling you as he fucked you through your hushed orgasm sending sparks along your nervous system. He slowed his hips under where you were seated side-saddle, kissing your face as you calmed down.

“My gorgeous, filthy princess,” Jungwoo praised as he pressed his lips to your temple, “cumming all over my cock out here.”

“What about you now?” You asked, still panting as you caught your breath.

“What about me?”

“Don't you want to cum?” You asked curiously.

“Sure I do,” he nodded, “and I'm sure I will. I'm just having fun doing this with you.”

“Then maybe,” you teased as you returned the kiss to his forehead, “I can come up with an idea myself.”

“Oh?” Jungwoo smiled, watching with piqued interest as you fought your shaky legs to stand back up, sliding your panties and jeans off over your shoes and dropping them beside him. You were already this exposed, you figured. The cool night air tickled your half-bared body and only reminded you how public this was, but it only encouraged you more. Making sure you had steady footing, you climbed back onto Jungwoo’s lap, now squatting over his length with your feet planted on either side of his hips as you steadily slid him back inside you.

“I'm thinking I'm not the only filthy one if you like this so much,” you smirked playfully, enjoying his low groans from your tight walls massaging his length as you worked a good rhythm on him.

“I’m thinking you're right,” he chuckled, moaning and whimpering as you varied your pace, occasionally stopping altogether or even grinding your pussy down hard on his cock before you suddenly pulled off. Jungwoo whined with a desperate laugh as he bucked into the air, trying to get back into you. “No no, you don’t get to do that, I love it,” he begged.

“Say it again,” you demanded, riding him hard for a moment and doing it all over again, pulling your soaked pussy back off of him.

“Please please please,” he whimpered as he fucked into the air, “bring it back, you're working me up too fast to be a tease like this.”

“Are you sure?” You asked sweetly before you repeated the routine once again.

“Yes!” Jungwoo gritted through his teeth as he gripped onto the park bench. “Please, princess, make me cum.”

“Whatever you want,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead once more before climbing off his lap altogether. Jungwoo almost sputtered, not understanding until you sank to a squat in front of him and took his cock deep between your lips, your tongue massaging his length as you hungrily sucked on him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jungwoo panted, “it’s not as good as your pussy but it’s so, so good, baby.”

You pulled off his cock with an audible pop, your hand picking up where you left off and jerking his length.

“Well, maybe next time you can bring a condom next time you ambush me.”

“If it’s going to be like this, I'll do whatever you want,” Jungwoo laughed exhaustedly as he tried not to thrust into your mouth when you sucked him back between your lips. His fingers stroked into your hair, keeping his wavering touches gentle until he gripped at his thigh, seemingly warning you of his impending orgasm.

Your suspicions were confirmed a moment later as Jungwoo let his head loll back with the force of his orgasm, his cum spilling into your throat and down your chin for you to hungrily drink down. Jungwoo melted into the bench, catching his breath as you stood back up, stretching your legs and quickly pulling your panties and jeans back on.

It was odd, thinking of something to say as Jungwoo finally came back to life and gently stowed his cock back into his pants. You liked him, and you wanted more, but neither of you were hardly in any position to be trying to make this a real thing. At least, not a committed thing.

“So, I guess we should never do this again,” Jungwoo sighed with a disheartened grin. You thought hard about this, about him.

“I'm not sure,” you settled on. “You can ask me at the SM company dinner next week I'll be covering.” You softly cupped Jungwoo’s humbly triumphant face as you grabbed your bag before shouldering it and leaving in the quiet night.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #nct 127 #kim jungwoo #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo x you #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct scenarios

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