#this summary still leaves out so many events so please do keep asking questions I love to answer them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loserholland · 2 years

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𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐀.𝐓

𝐈𝐈. 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

Pairing ➺ Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Targ/Vela/Strong!Reader

Warning ➺ Hint of smut! Some Targ!Incest hinted/implied. Use of High Valyrian. Mean Aemond as usual ig lol. Italics are flashbacks

Word Count ➺ 2.6K

Summary ➺ Her mother was known to be “The Realms Delight”. Soon Rhaeneyra’s daughter would earn that title as well, leaving many suitors waiting in line an a particular uncle waiting as well.

A/N ➺ GAH GUYS! THANK YOU! I hope you all enjoy part two, I may fix it up later. Just uploading this yet again whilst in class because I seem to have more ideas when in class? Enjoy! I ALSO DON’T OWN HIGH VALYRIAN, though I’m learning it on duolingo :D

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou@babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos @ohbabycal @laucontrerasv @spider-mendes @jessybellsworld @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @multitargaryen @mingiholic @loutino94

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ➺ @dudfahsn @hhjhbhh @firecantkillthedragon

@its-sam-allgood @sahanna @imjustboredso @lovecleastrange @mouseymagines @out-of-life @caspianobsessed @bilesxbilinskixlahey @yunonaneko

☞ Masterlist ☜

The sound of waves crashing against the shore allowed her to relax, her body less tense than it had been after the past few weeks. It was nice to be back on Dragonstone with her family, catching up with her mother who was due with her fifth child any day now. After your father’s death, she had married her uncle Daemon, who was now your step-father but was first your great-uncle?

Targaryen customs at its finest.

She watched as Tessarion soared through the sky. It had been almost a week since you arrived back on Dragonstone, though you didn’t want to leave the keep it felt necessary to be away.

(Y/N) had adjusted her daily task to be done earlier, trying her best to avoid her begrudged uncle. If she wanted books from the library she’d ask her lady in waiting to find it for her not wanting to risk stepping foot alone into there. At dinner she could feel his gaze, a smug look painted his face, he knew that she was on the edge.

He took notice of how she had changed her schedule around, truly he didn’t think she would avoid him at all cost. “May I be excused? I have quite an eventful day tomorrow.” waiting for her grandsire and the queen to give her a nod, excusing herself from the dining hall. Aemond waited a few minutes before excusing himself as well, he quickly made his way to her chambers using the secret passage ways that his great-great-great uncle Maegor had built.

“It’s quite alright Mera, please get some rest.” She stood outside her chamber doors talking to one of her ladies in waiting, Aemond took a seat on one of the chairs facing the fireplace awaiting for his niece to enter.

She opened and closed her door quickly, all she wanted was for sleep to consume her. It was foolish really to feel so on the edge, she felt as though maybe she was overthinking the situation. He could hear her moving around the room, still unaware of the current company she had.

“You’ve been avoiding me dear niece.”

(Y/N) yelped in surprise loud enough to reach the ears of her knight guarding her door.

“Princess? Are you alright?”

Aemond stood from the chair raising his brow slightly awaiting for her to answer the guard. She knew that if his mother found out he was in her chambers she’d call you a whore and accuse you of wanting to tarnish her son's name.

“It’s alright Ser Erryk, just a bird.” Aemond hummed in satisfaction, striding forwards towards the princess. (Y/N) breathing grew heavy, her heart began to beat against her chest waiting to jump out at any moment. “What are you doing here Aemond?” it came out as a weak question, she could barely recognize her own voice,

He stopped a few feet away from her, wrapping his arms behind his back taking in her figure. “Ao didn’t udligon ñuha másino.” (You didn’t answer my question.)

Your mother had you learn High Valyrian when you were young, her reason was because it was necessary to learn your native tongue. But you later realized it’s because the walls within the Keep and all of Westeros have ears.

And because not everyone can speak High Valyrian.

The two of you had communicated this way since you were young, when you actually got along. At the time you two weren’t the greatest at speaking it tumbling over your words, but now it was music to your ears.

It made you feel special.

(Y/N) scoffed lightly, if someone threatened to take your eye wouldn't you want to avoid them at all cost? It was a silly question really that answered for itself.

“Ao threatened naejot gūrogon ñuha laes.” (You threatened to take my eye.)

“Yn nyke didn’t, gōntan nyke daor?” (But I didn’t, did I not?)

The crackling flames filled the silence that engulfed the room, it was strange. Strange to see him in her chambers, the way he just towered over you as though he held some sort of power. But now was her chance to push him though as he did her. The one thing she noticed about Aemond was how arrogant he became, or maybe it was confidence, the two seemed to bleed into one when it came to him.

She glared at him, how could he come in here as though that never happened? “Nyke ivestretan ao naejot gūrogon ziry. Iā sia ao tolī olvie hen iā coward naejot follow rȳ? (I told you to take it. Or were you too much of a coward to follow through?)

Aemond stepped forward watching as she stepped back till she was against the wall, he wrapped his hand around her throat squeezing lightly. (Y/N) never knew why she never tried to fight back when it came to Aemond, if Aegon had his hand around her throat she would be quick to push him off and give him a taste of his own medicine.

Yet when it came to Aemond.

She always froze.

“Nyke mērī spared ao, skoro syt should nyke wrongfully gūrogon skoros shouldn’t sagon taken? unless ao drējī jaelagon naejot sagon keskydoso, sepār ivestragon se udir.” (I only spared you, why should I wrongfully take what shouldn’t be taken? Unless you truly want to be the same, just say the word.)

There it was, the same flames that danced just a few days ago. Conflicted on what to do, fighting against one another. She felt like a lamb ready to be slaughtered by Tessarion, just a word away from being set aflame and eaten in one bite.

““Don’t jaelā naejot gīmigon skoro syt nyke didn’t gūrogon ziry? i’m sure bona másino iksis rattling bona pretty bartos hen aōhon?” (Don’t you want to know why I didn’t take it? I’m sure that question is rattling that pretty head of yours.)

He squeezed the side of her throat unsatisfied that she hadn’t answered him. Just enough to scare her, but not enough to have her passing out. She did wonder why he didn’t take it, the opportunity was right there.

If she were Aemond she would’ve taken it.

“Kepus, kostilus.” (Uncle, please.)

There it was again. that weird feeling, Aemond couldn’t tell what it was. Because it sure wasn’t sadness or guilt.

The sound of swords clashing pulled her from the memory, turning her head to the side to see Jace and Luke sparring with one another. Tessarion screeched directing (Y//N) attention away from her brothers. Arrax and Syrax had joined her in the sky flying past one another.

“Must you two train here?”

She did miss her brothers deeply and rarely did they send ravens to one another, but just as most siblings are; they knew how to annoy her.

“You’re awake!” Jace commented as he struck down Luke, your younger brother groaned as he fell to the sand, his wooden sword landing next to him.

“I was not sleeping and haven’t I told you to be kind to Luke?” she hated how rough Jace could be when they trained, she understood he just wanted to prove himself to their mother and well to the people of Westeros. But, sometimes it blinded him into being too aggressive.

Walking over to her younger brother she helped him up brushing off the sand that stuck to his clothes, “You sound like mother.” Jace mumbled causing her to send him a glare. Times like this she understood why people compared her to her mother.

“It’s great to have you back (Y/N/N).” Luke said with a smile, raising her free hand she ruffled his brown locks. It did feel great to be back and to be with her siblings, the next time she would’ve seen them was for her 18th name day celebration.

Jace poked his wooden sword at his older sister, “Why is it that you came by again? You didn’t send raven to announce your arrival.”

She could see the flames growing behind his eye,“Kostilus” she mewled tapping on his wrist in hopes he would answer her plea.

Swallowing harshly he released his hand from her throat taking a step back from her, as her hand shot up to her throat soothing the area. He looked down at his feet for a second before setting his gaze back onto her, turning on his heels to exit her chambers.

“Princess?”

Ser Erryk stood by the door, his hand resting on his sword, “It’s alright Ser Erryk, the Prince was just talking about taking our dragons for a flight together.” He gave her a small nod slowly closing her chamber door.

“Ser Erryk.”

He paused for a second, “Yes Princess?”

“Please don’t bring this to the King and Queen’s attention. I don’t want the Queen to think otherwise.”

Staring up at the ceiling she brought her right hand to her throat allowing her finger tips to trace where Aemond’s hand was. It was wrong, it was wrong at the thought of how it excited her. The way his eye darkened as he stared down at her, how he slowly applied pressure to her throat just enough to let her know she was under his control.

It was truly a sin.

“Aemond.”

He hummed in response, his hands roamed her body, his lips left soft kisses on her neck making his way to her lips.

“Skoros iksis ziry bona ao jorrāelagon dōna riña?” (What is it that you need sweet girl?) she gulped nervously. Leaning forward she tried to capture his lips but he leaned back tutting at her sudden action.

“I asked you a question.”

(Y/N) didn’t want to admit it, she didn’t. She didn’t want to give in, but he looked so beautiful. Her body felt hot with need, lust coursing through her veins.

“Ao, nyke jorrāelagon ao kepus Aemond.” (You, I need you Uncle Aemond.)

He placed a soft kiss onto her lips, she kissed back in need desperate for his touch. He pulled her closer till they were flushed against one another. It was as though he set her body aflame, and she didn’t care if he burned her. Aemond lifted her off the ground before placing her onto the bed.

“Pār ao kessa emagon nyke.” (Then you shall have me.)

(Y/N) gasped loudly, her eyes scanned the room frantically in search of her Uncle. Her nightgown stuck to her body a thin layer of sweat visible on her skin, heart racing as she tried to catch her breath.

It was just a dream.

The next few nights were pure torture. She had dreams of him, sinful dreams. Dreams no maiden at her age should be dreaming, dreams no niece should have on their uncle. The way he had her at his mercy, on her knees as he praised her for her beauty. The way she would have him at his knees, his beautiful sapphire glimmering under the moonlight that kissed her room.

Knocking softly upon the door she awaited an answer, “Come in.” pushing the door open to her grandsire’s chamber.

(Y/N) curtsied upon entry, “Your Grace.” Viserys waved his hand “Dear child, haven’t I told you there’s no need for any formalities.” she chuckled lightly, though he was her grandfather, he was her king before that. Her grandfather sat on a chair near his small sculpture of Old Valyria.

“What brings you here today?”

“Grandsire, may I go back to Dragonstone for a bit?”

He placed one of the mini sculptures back down, “It’s nearing your name day celebration.” She knew he would protest, but he would not tell her no. (Y/N) was his first grandchild and when he sees you he sees Rhaenyra. But not only does he see his daughter, he also sees his late wife Aemma.

“I just miss them dearly and can’t wait till they’re here for my name day celebration. I’ll be back in time before my celebration. Please grandsire?” He didn’t want to let her go, but he did care for her happiness. He understood that sending ravens to communicate isn’t the same as seeing them in person with her own eyes.

Little did he know she actually wanted time away from the Prince.

“Are you trying to get rid of me already?”

Jace rolled his eyes playfully, “No.” (Y/N) sighed lightly “I missed mother, and my brothers of course. Plus she is pregnant yet again, so I wanted to be here for the babe’s birth.” This was entirely true, she just decided to leave out the fact of what their uncle had done.

Back in Westeros, Aemond grew suspicious of your whereabouts. He didn’t see you training early in the morning nor did he see Tessarion flying in the sky. Wandering about the castle in hopes to run into you. He had gotten up early that morning, he had a rough night's rest. Unable to shake the image out of his head, unable to stop dreaming the same dream the past nights.

“Kepus, kostilus, gūrogon nyke” (Uncle please, take me.)

(Y/N) brought his free hand under her nightgown, dragging it up her thigh till her cupped her cunt, it was wet and warm with need. Asking for him to taste her, to have her. “Ziry iksos sepār syt ao” (It’s just for you.) she moaned, urging him to take action.

He blinked a few times, unsure if this was actually happening or not, “Kostilius.” she begged trailing kisses upon his pale skin bitting his skin slightly causing him to hiss.

“My prince?”

“Kostilius.”

“My prince?”

Aemond blinked a few times, Ser Criston gave him a worried look unsure of why the Prince was acting so strange. “Let’s call it a day.” he nodded, looking around the courtyard to see if the Princess was around. It was as though her scent lingered on him, taunting him for dreaming of her.

He needed to get (Y/N) out of his head.

When it was time for supper, he noticed she hadn’t taken her usual seat to the right of his father. Halaena seemed a bit puzzled as she fixed her gaze on the empty seat, “Mother, do you know where (Y/N) is? I promised Jaehaerys and Jaehaera she would take them flying.” his ears perked up at the sound of her name keeping his eyes focused on his plate right in front of him.

“Oh dear, she went to visit her family at Dragonstone.”

For how long?

Aegon snickered as he re-filled his cup, Aemond was unaware his thought was spoken out loud hence why his older brother smirked at him. Alicent swallowed her food, placing her fork and knife back onto the table, “She’ll be back before her name day celebration-”

“Why are you wondering about our niece's whereabouts brother?” Aemond intervened, causing his mother to glare at him for being so rude, the wine was surely working into his system as usual.

Aemond hummed in response, “She just wanted to train tis all.” he mumbled taking a swing of the wine that was already poured into his cup. He didn’t even realize she left, he just thought she fell ill with a fever, or just decided to stay locked up in her chambers.

He laid in bed tossing and turning letting out a small huff, he closed his eye yet again in hopes sleep will consume him. But every time he closed his eye, he saw his niece. He saw her on her knees begging for him to take her, begging for him, her uncle to take her maidenhood. There it was again, that feeling.

That same feeling it felt when he snuck into her chambers. That feeling of want and need, something no one should feel for their own blood.

It was lust.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x targ!reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen smut

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somberjoon · 2 months

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METANOIA [8]

✩ pairing: wolf hybrid nj x cheetah hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 8.8k

✩ chapter warnings: uncertainty in behavior and emotions , anxiety , TW // panic attack with nightmare description of assault / sa (this is not explicit or detailed at all but talks of the suffocating feeling of touch) an asterisk * at the start and end of the section that includes this. inclusion of minor wound (bruises and small cuts) description. lots of feelies and talking this ch.

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ch.3 , ch.4 , ch.5 , ch.6 , ch.7 , ch.8 , ch.9

✩ disclaimer: i can't predict what anyone will think, but please understand that some important topics that need discussing as a pack in these circumstances are left out on purpose. If you can't figure it out now then it'll be a nice surprise lol.

Namjoon

The rush to put on better clothing for the chill of night goes by in hushed words from Seokjin and a now awake Hoseok.

“You’re not being detained are you?”

“No, they don’t have a warrant or anything. Whatever happened, it was probably Maria or Y/N herself that mentioned me and they just want information about events.”

“Namjoon I don’t like this.” Hoseok spills.

“I know, something doesn’t feel right- but I need answers and I at least have my job under my belt to know what my rights are. I’ll be okay.”

“Let Seokjin go with you.” Hoseok still pushes.

“I don’t want to put him in that situation-”

“Can you hurry up?” Seokjin seems to manifest in conversation, dressed and ready to go. “Of course I’m going with you.”

With Hoseok’s extra encouragement to bring the oldest of their pack with him, Namjoon and Seokjin leave in their own car, driving towards an unknown fate.

At this time, the bustle of a police station is nonexistent. It’s an eerie feeling being searched and taken back to a room in…silence, really. The silence also makes him wonder where Y/N is, as he hasn’t even gotten a scent of her here. The passive woman that leads him to the room is the one that ends up asking him the questions.

“We apologize for the timing that the officers showed up at your house. After finally getting some information from Y/N it had already been 7 hours of silence from her. I can’t give many details right this second, but after we get some more information I can let you know.”

“Of course. Is she still here at the station?”

“No, she actually didn’t even come here originally. She’d been in the hospital for some injuries.”

Somehow, his heart sinks deeper into the pit of his body and his stomach makes its way towards his throat.

“Is she- is she okay?”

“Okay is a…hard word to use. Physically, she doesn’t have any long-lasting injuries, but mentally-” She doesn’t even need to finish for Namjoon to understand. It wouldn’t be any better if she was only hurt physically somehow, but knowing that whatever this was is just another huge blow to her mental health is sickening.

“What do you need to know?” Namjoon asks, trying to get to the point but still keeping his composure.

“We have information that yesterday at approximately 12:00PM Y/N and you can be put in the same place. I was seeing if you could give us a rundown from the time you two met for the day to the time she got home.”

Namjoon knows no specific words or details will be given to him just to see if the information matches both Y/N’s and Maria’s or Richard’s. So, he tells it honestly- the truth.

“I picked her up around 12PM, she had a class at the hospital that she wanted to attend and I was the one available to Y/N that could take her. So, I picked her up and she didn’t seem to like the outfit she was wearing- she wears comfortable clothing but, she just seems- not sure about what to wear to certain functions or events. Before the class, we had time to stop by a small clothing shop, just one in the strip mall. We picked out an outfit and she got to the class in time, which was at 1:15PM and lasted about an hour.”

“Do you know what kind of class this was?”

“Sexual Development class, a free one that- I think her doctor recommended it.”

“Okay, continue with the events please.”

“During the class she had forgotten her phone, so I stayed outside the hospital, thus we were able to leave right away and go to my pack’s home for a visit. We, Y/N and I, had been trying to plan a visit to my pack home because of the growing friendships between me and her and another one of my pack members. She was anxious about it because she doesn’t really like meeting new people, she doesn’t trust easily, especially men. But, she blended in well, and because everyone was welcome with each other, it was a good visit. The cheetahs hung out, then we had dinner and then she seemed tired so I offered to take her home around 7PM.”

“Did Y/N show any odd behavior before you took her home?”

“To be honest, she seemed reluctant to have me leave her home alone. I’m not sure if Richard was home at that time or anything, but I- I should’ve checked before I left. She didn’t say anything though, she didn’t ask me to stay or tell me if she was uncomfortable being alone.” Namjoon stops to bring himself back together, the thoughts of what could’ve happened fight their way to the front. His regret is immense at the moment, even when he doesn’t know what exactly happened.

“Did you see anyone outside of her home? And, you said you didn’t know if Richard was home, but were there any signs that anyone else was there?”

Red alarms immediately go off in his head. Because- no. He didn’t make sure, but-

“I stayed at that house, parked in the driveway for 15 minutes after she told me she was okay and locked the door. I wanted to make sure that she didn’t change her mind or-” this woman is a hybrid, she should understand if he says this. “I just felt like something was wrong, and I’ve known enough of her to see when she’s uncomfortable or when she doesn’t want to say something. I should’ve made sure she was okay.”

“Luckily, Y/N is safe now. And I can see that the storylines do add up. Your words were the last ones we needed. But, later on your pack could be asked to testify if the judge decides this isn’t a clean cut case.”

“Can you tell me? What happened?”

“If you guys are close, and if she trusts you as much as I think she does- she’d probably want you to know from her.”

Unlike the police station, the hospital has more people in it now that Sunday morning has started. Seokjin accompanies Namjoon now that he can, already heading towards the room with Maria’s approval to the front desk that he could be a visitor. To be honest, he feels entirely too invasive in the moment, but his worry isn’t only bubbling but ready to boil over at not making sure Y/N is alive and not on her damn deathbed.

It’s easy to spot the room from a distance, as Richard sits in one of the hallway chairs with his elbows on his knees in a bent position. Obviously, he is in an uncommunicative mood- even as Namjoon passes by him, he says nothing. Instead, he looks through the glass of the door to see Maria sitting on one of the visitor benches in the room, looking at the hospital bed that’s blocked from him by a curtain. With his presence, Maria looks to the door to find him without him having to knock. She hurries to meet them outside with the door shut behind her.

“I’m so glad to see you.” Maria says with such relief, wrapping him in an unfamiliarly tight hug. Without a second to think, she’s giving Seokjin one as well. “She’s not verbal at the moment. To be honest, she’s only been verbal to give her statement to the police.” She looks into the window even if she can’t see Y/N from it.

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable being here-” It’s all Namjoon can think now that he’s actually here. He was really only her friend and someone that was with her only some hours of the day. “I just wanted to see how she was doing and-” He can’t just leave. God, no matter how out of place he feels being here, he can’t leave her right now.

“Namjoon. You’re the only person she’s asked about.”

“What? Why?”

“She didn’t want to even mention you guys to the police. But, that would’ve been even more suspicious. So, she obviously told her whole story and- she asked if I could ‘let her know when Namjoon is questioned’. I’m guessing she was preparing for another devastating blow, because I told her this morning and she just broke down again.”

Of course she didn’t want any of them involved, just to keep them out of it, she’s willing to lie.

“I think you should see her.” Maria says when Namjoon doesn’t respond. He looks to Seokjin in question, his hyung already knowing why. But, Seokjin only gives him a few reassuring nods and squeeze to his upper arm.

The door shutting behind him finalizes the choice he made. He could turn back, he could leave knowing that Maria is here for her. But, just last night he thought the same thing- and it didn’t work out then. The pull towards her is too strong.

Rounding the curtain gives him a view that’s a lot easier to process than he imagined. She’s curled up on her side with only her bun peeking out of the top of the blanket. She’s so small, even with her gaining weight and eating well- she’s still so small. His light steps don’t seem to stir her and he really doesn’t want to startle her, so his best shot is waiting, observing.

A cushioned chair sits conveniently in front of the resting Y/N, Namjoon sits with light movements. He can finally see her eyes above the blanket covering her. Even like this he can already see a small healing cut next to her eye near her temple. He wants to know every part of her that was hurt- he wants to magically heal her of the wounds she was given, mentally and physically.

It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to see Y/N take a few tentative sniffs above her blanket, eyes shooting open to land on Namjoon’s.

Tears. It’s as if they were waiting to fall no matter what. He watches devastatingly with nothing to do. No sign of approval of his touch or words, no utter of his name- just tears. This was the final blow for him as well it seems. He can only say one thing.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, leaning closer to leave him less than a foot away from her. “I’m so so sorry.” Tears prick his own eyes, his wolf begging to touch, to soothe. His restraints are wearing thin as they just stare at each other. He has no queue to touch her, he has to wait and hope that she reaches out or just stays silent in her needs. He doesn’t even know if that’s what she needs, but he hopes she does. He hopes that he could be comforting for her, be here for her and calm her in some way.

“I’m so sorry I left you there.” That's all he can say. Even more tears fall from her silently, begging for something. He’ll just need to pry like he usually does, he’ll do it forever if he needs to.

“Is there something I can do for you?”

“What if I hurt you?” It’s the quietest mumble of a question, somehow sounding clear despite her tears and the barrier of the blanket.

“You won’t hurt me.” Namjoon says without even thinking, voice staying at a whisper. “What do you need? Do you need something from me?” He tries not to beg, but really anyone could hear it in his voice.

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Even without a response he’ll keep trying. He won’t make the same mistake. “Let me help you.”

It's not an immediate response, but Y/N slowly reveals herself. Her blanket is pushed back to show simple clothing the hospital most definitely provided. He doesn’t mean to look, but the hospital shorts show purple bruises that randomly spot the top of her thighs. They're large- he tries to push away the thought of them looking like hands.

She's asking in her movements as she slides closer to him, her legs dangling over the side of the bed now. He pays attention to her eyes, only her eyes as his peripheral catches more cuts and bruises that he's sure she doesn't want him to see.

"Whatever you need." He says at her pause in movement. He takes the chance of guessing what she needs, opening his arms in an inviting gesture.

Her silent tears turn to sobs just as her hand reaches out and takes a hold of Namjoon's extended hand. He closes his grip like it's a life line just as she does to him.

With slower movements than he'd like for himself but enough for her to not hurt herself more, she's finally showing what she wants. Climbing into his lap, legs bracketed around his thighs and body pressed into his finally. Finally she's in his arms- his own arms locked tight around her to keep her there. Her wet face and hurried breaths are pushed into his neck, as close as she can get. Finally, her tail wraps around him instead of squeezed around herself.

"I got you. I'm so sorry." He says over and over again like a mantra.

Seokjin

He doesn't mind waiting for Namjoon, but the company isn’t the best. To be fair, he finally got some time in silence as Maria takes a phone call, but it's still a hospital- hospitals are never comforting.

"I know, yes I understand we'll have to come in and discuss- that's the protocol!?"

Maria's frustrating outburst is more than enough to cause a few heads to whip her way. and this landing on Seokjin just a few chairs away.

"Okay. Well, I don’t know when we’ll both be able to come in, maybe later today or tomorrow. Can I just call you back when we are able to come in?”

“Thank you, bye.” She finishes her call and turns to sit right next to Richard who Seokjin really isn't comfortable sitting next to. Even if there is a spacer seat. Despite their whispered conversation, he can hear it.

“The protocol for her case is immediate re-homing.” She whispers in a heartbreaking tone. “We could fight for her later on, but as of right now our house is deemed unsafe for her- for any future cases that may need a home.”

With the pain in her voice, Richard is still silent. Seokjin almost wants to shake the man into some fucking sense. But, that’s only his instincts talking- he still has no idea what the story is. And now, he’s thinking about where Y/N will go.

Somehow he already knows.

Namjoon

Usually with Y/N attached to him, it’s hard to think properly. But now, with her safely in his arms, he’s thinking more and more about how to keep it this way. Despite that, dread fills him at the thoughts around the organization- he knows that Y/N can’t stay in that house, no matter what it was, she was hospitalized and there is police involvement. There is no way she’ll be able to stay in that house. He doesn’t even know if Y/N knows that yet.

She had just gotten into a situation that was helping her and she finally had support that was pushing her towards a healthy life and healthy relationships. He couldn’t rid her of the friends she made when she loses a home as well.

To be honest, Namjoon has no idea how long it has been since he's sat here, but Y/N has fallen asleep a while ago and Seokjin hasn't even tried to get a hold of him.

Knowing that he needs to at least talk to Seokjin, Namjoon makes the hard decision to stand and gently detach Y/N from him. In her sleep she unapologetically reaches for him with greedy hands, unlike what she does in her waking state. He can't help but smile despite where they are and the unanswered things that happened.

Slipping out to see Seokjin is a breath of fresh air he didn't realize he needed. He'd spend all day and night making sure she was comfortable, but it's still exhausting seeing someone you care about in such shambles. He'll be strong for her no matter what- and he'll be lucky to have others there for him.

"How is she?" Seokjin's tired voice asks just across from her room door in the visitor seats.

“She doesn’t want to talk- she doesn’t have any serious injuries. But she was comfortable with me, so that’s a start.” Namjoon says as he sits just next to Seokjin. “Where did they go?” He motions to the empty chairs that once held Maria and Richard.

“They went to grab breakfast from the cafeteria.” Seokjin checks his phone just as he answers. “Taehyung has been begging me to let him come sit outside her room. I wish I felt comfortable with him coming, but I think it’d be bad if we had too many people here right now.” Namjoon knows that if Taehyung came then Jimin would want to come, and if Jimin came then Hoseok would feel obligated to come and keep watch over them. He can’t have that many people here right now.

“It’s a good call, especially because we don’t know exactly what she needs or wants at the moment.” The silence stretches between them as if they’re both waiting to have this impending conversation. All it takes is one look to Seokjin for the fox to know exactly what he wants to say.

“I heard Maria talking to Richard about the organization and what happens next, Namjoon. I already know what you’re going to say.”

“It’s not immediate, especially not when she’s in the hospital, but-”

“But, this is not a conversation we should be having with just the two of us.”

“You know I need you to know first right now, I need to know if this is something that would be possible.”

“You would make it possible- I know you too well. I’ll let you figure out what you want to say, and what you need to tell the others. But- I’m on your side.” Seokjin gives him a light shoulder bump that lightens the mood just the slightest.

“I didn’t hide anything from you or the pack.” Namjoon says suddenly, knowing that if he says to the pack what he wants to say, he wants his hyung to know that it wasn’t a long-awaited bomb-drop. “Anything I want to say when we talk to them, it’s not something I- I would never wait to say it in a time like this.”

“I know. I guess that was something I talked to Taehyung about and not you.” Namjoon gives him a questioning look. “Before I called you yesterday inviting Y/N, I talked to Taehyung about my worries. I let my fears get the best of me in times that I should have put Taehyung and you first. I don’t mind if you or him, or anyone, meets another person. We can’t control that- obviously, I mean we have a pack of seven. But, I will support you no matter what. I will take care of her as well, just as another part of the family.”

“You’re making me emotional at the worst time.” Namjoon lets out a nervous laugh at the realization that his feelings aren’t just settled into his skin anymore. His feelings for Y/N aren’t just an afterthought when he’s around her- it’s now something that will be out into the universe to fuck him over. “I just want us all to be comfortable- and I just want her to have a home. That’s all she needs right now, I want to be that for her.”

Seokjin looks at him with something akin to pride. Namjoon tries to catch it for as long as possible.

“If she’s okay with that, I will help you make that happen.” Seokjin says.

Y/N

It feels like she’s suffocating- just as it did last night. Just as it felt when his hands were around her neck- on her legs, on her stomach, on her. All she can see is black, but there is the feeling of him here- a feeling of those few times when they tried to take advantage of her with no roof over her head and nowhere to flee to. They always gripped on tight, underestimating the strength her cheetah gives her. It’s not usually enough strength to completely fight them off, but it’s always enough to have enough time to run as far as she can.

The darkness is pushing on her chest- just after having a dreamless sleep, a resting sleep- trying to pry things from her she would never give them. They don’t deserve it, it’s not for them. It gets harder and harder for her to breathe. In this darkness, she doesn’t even have anything to fight off, there’s no way out- there’s nothing she can do.

“Y/N.”

‘No, leave me alone. Please.’

“Y/N.”

‘Please. Please don’t touch me.’

“Y/N!”

Suddenly there is an actual hand on her arm. She was asleep and he had time to touch her when she couldn’t stop him.

Her eyes shoot open to bright hospital lights, trying to move as quickly as she can to get away from the arm that touches her- trying to crawl up the bed and see who it is this time.

Namjoon.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you were just having a nightmare.” His hands are in the air defensively. It’s just him and she’s fine but- why can’t she breathe? God, why can she still feel him on her. She can feel the weight of him on her chest, pressing all the air from her.

“Y/N you need to breathe slowly. You’re going to make yourself pass out. Breathe in through your nose and out your mouth.”

She’s trying. She doesn’t want to feel like this, she doesn’t want to be unconscious and vulnerable again.

“Can I touch you? Can I help you?”

Her response doesn’t leave her lips like she wants it, not when she’s gulping down air like this. Instead she’s scooting closer, trying to find relief in him again. She needs it, no matter how much she doesn’t want to rely on him.

His arms are immediately going to work. One slips behind her neck to find that magical muscle, the other pushes her frizzy curls from her face to pet at her hair with soothing words.

“In through your nose and out your mouth. Just focus on this feeling. Focus on my voice. Give yourself something to pinpoint.”

She can barely listen to him, but the feeling of him against her neck is hypersensitive. It seems his touch always is no matter how simple it is. It’s the only thing she can seem to focus on, her lungs filling at a rate that is less and less painful.

“There you go. Look at me.”

She does look up at him now that it hurts less to breathe. She's terrified she'll see pity, though with how everything has always gone for her, sometimes she wants it- craves attention even if it's with an aching heart and empty promises. This time she only sees her Namjoon. The wolf with kind eyes and an even kinder soul. He's looking down at her with such cherish that it completely distracts her from the panic that was eating her up.

"Good. Do you feel better?" He wipes at her face, picking up wet stains that she didn’t even realize were there- but thanks to the scratch near her eye, the skin is sensitive. He's not even grossed out about how she looks or the things she can’t get a hold on yet. He’s so gentle no matter what she’s given him, no matter what he sees himself.

“Yeah.” She gets out with a hoarse voice. “I’m sorry.” She whispers after hearing her own voice.

“Don’t be sorry, it was a nightmare- we all have nightmares.” That she can’t change, she’ll always have them.

“I’m sorry you had to take care of me.” She specifies, looking away from him and not wanting to see that caring look on his face anymore. She doesn’t get far when the hand from her neck slides up to direct her face back to him.

“I would not be here if I didn’t want to- I always want to care for you, no matter how it looks. Even if you need something small- something useless- it’s you so I’ll take care of it.”

She can’t bear him saying this now. Y/N has believed him before, somehow a man has whittled his way into her mind and heart in ways she’d never thought was possible. But, him saying it as she looks like this and reacts like this- after she’s done something horrible- is unbearable.

“Okay.” Is all she can say with a teary-eyed nod. If she looks at him any longer she’ll cry more than she has in the last couple days, so she turns away, and he finally lets her.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He asks, changing the subject, doing her a favor without knowing.

“There’s some water in the minifridge.” She replies slowly. Everything is still cloudy and annoying, but Namjoon never asked for irritation, so she'll be nice for now. He grabs one of the chilled water bottles and opens it for her with a satisfying click before handing it to her within seconds.

“Are you hungry? Maria left some food for you, she’s waiting outside if you need her.”

“I’m okay for now, just tired.” She says meekly. She looks up to find him assessing her with a gaze that seems a little too invasive. She can’t help but tell him more upon seeing the look. “I haven’t been able to sleep- with the nightmares.” She admits.

“You seemed okay until I left you, I’m sorry. I needed to check in with Seokjin-hyung without letting him into the room.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Instead of any more easy conversation that they usually have, there’s silence that only seems to grow at what has been unsaid. They’re in a damn hospital for crying out loud. Namjoon literally got questioned by the police and she won’t feel safe for a long time. It’s all waiting to be spilled right here in this uncomfortable bed in the most uncomfortable room.

“Did they tell you what happened?”

“I should go and let Maria come in.”

They both speak at the same time.

“What?” Y/N asks first, voice a little high in wanting. Why would he just leave suddenly?

“Oh, no they didn’t tell me. I didn’t know if you’d want to so I did ask but, after some clarity of realizing that you’re okay, I just want to wait until you tell me as much as you want to give.”

His response is like whiplash after his announcement of leaving, so instead she keeps the conversation on one topic.

“I don’t want to tell you until I’m out of here. I hate it here.” She admits. Anything is better than the drabby shelters she’s been in and out of- and definitely better than the dried-up bridges she’d sleep under. But, this place always feels so cold and unwelcoming. It reminds her of her first visit to the hospital and seeing doctors for the first time. It was so invasive despite being needed- even if she was thankful, it was all so fast.

“Whenever you want.” Is all he says in a voice that proves he’s just tip-toeing.

“Why did you want to leave?” She finally asks.

“Maria said you weren’t being verbal with her, so I just thought maybe you wanted to talk to her, especially because you haven’t seen her for a few hours. I just want you to be comfortable.”

She could never get mad at him- she probably could in the right circumstance- so she just gives him a sigh that gives in to whatever he says. He’s right in a sense anyways.

“Yeah I should talk to her, you should get back home to your pack anyways. I’m sure they’re worried about you.” She answers with honesty. She can’t keep him here away from them just because she doesn’t feel safe yet. Even if the only place she has felt safe is in his arms, she can’t burden him with that.

“I’ll go let them know-”

“Just Maria.” She says far too quickly.

“Okay, just Maria. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He leaves with an air to him that was far more tentative than earlier. Where did it go wrong? What line did they cross that has them both walking on eggshells? It always feels so fine with him, airy and refreshing in a way that allows her to finally breathe and have no worries in the world. Why is it that it changes so quickly sometimes? What is being left unsaid that she’s too inexperienced or immature to realize?

“Hey sweetie.” Maria comes in with the normal softness she had even before this happened. But this time, Y/N can tell that she’s been crying. Her eyes look tired, red-rimmed, and far too down-turned to just be a caring stare.

“Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” She asks, causing Y/N to place the blanket back over her body to stop the chill of the room from finding her unprepared.

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good.” She sits in the same chair Namjoon did when he first came to see her. Again, an edge of tentativeness creeps into her mannerisms. He hands fidget in her lap and her eyes begin to water again. Y/N immediately pushes forward at the sight.

“I didn’t think it’d come to this. Ya’know I thought I could make a safe space for you. One where you’d never have to worry about getting hurt.” Her lip wobbles in a way that has Y/N’s own eyes watering up in response. “I’m so sorry this happened. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.” It’s inevitable when flashes of last night creep into her mind. She closes her eyes, pushing them down and down until later when she can fight them on her own.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I will take the blame, if it helps to take some of the blow.”

“That’s not fair, you know that’s not fair.” Y/N almost pleads.

“I knew there would be more consequences, if not directly made in my direction, definitely in yours when the organization paired us together. I mean- I knew there’d be legal proceedings that I’d have to handle that I really would do anything to get us out of, but I know they’d be hard on you. So, when the organization called earlier-”

Her choked sob that she swallows to keep going on has Y/N panicking now. Thankfully, it’s not enough to cause her the same panic as before, but it’s definitely enough to have her sitting up straighter, her ears perked and tail wrapped into an unbearably tight hold.

“The hospitalization mixed with the police involvement isn’t taken lightly- as it shouldn’t be- but the organization has protocols in place. With our case, there will definitely be a rehoming done.”

Y/N really didn’t know what exactly the protocol would be, other than the very few more common occurrences that the organization workers informed her of incase she needed to report them without the homeowners knowing. The shock of how quickly everything is moving has her completely blocking out Maria. She can’t comprehend just how awful it would be to transition to a new home in a time like this. She can’t fathom how Maria feels and- to be horribly honest- she’s worried about how Maria and Richard will cope with whatever it is they are exactly going to go through. Despite what she feels for Richard, she can’t help but feel like this was her fault.

Namjoon

Stepping into the house after everything this morning is like walking into quicksand. The feeling of being pulled farther and farther into some irreversible thing is sickening. Not because of the unavoidable situation, but because of how many things could go wrong now.

Taehyung is on him in seconds, trying his best to scent and pry answers out with pleading eyes and whimpers.

“Let’s get everyone together and talk, so I only have to have this conversation once.”

Luckily everyone is home, with some that have work schedules on the weekend- such as Yoongi who coaches kiddie basketball and had two early games this morning- it is hard to have everyone together before noon. But somehow it’s happened and he’s extremely lucky to see his pack all in one place. The events of today have made him so eager to make sure his pack is safe and home. Even if they all watch him with different levels of questioning eyes, he’d rather they be safe and expectant than not here at all.

“So far, legally, it seems to be a clean case- though I still have no idea what exactly happened.” He’s speaking before he even realizes it, standing in front of everyone sitting and standing in the living room.

“Y/N is…okay. She’s not comfortable in the hospital so she doesn’t want to tell me yet, but she’s just- she’s hurt yes. She’s bruised and scratched in ways that will heal, but it’s really just her mental state that can’t be healed measurably.”

Namjoon seems to pause for no other reason than anxiety. He really didn’t think about this enough, this conversation in this circumstance. They’re all so patient as they wait, even Taehyung who has to be squeezed between Jimin and Hoseok to sit still.

“When I introduced Y/N, it wasn’t with ulterior motives other than to help her build relationships. Yes, I was also interested in a friendship with her before this- that and the opportunity for Taehyung and her to have each other for their cheetahs was all I wanted. But, I have to be honest with myself. And with you all.”

He gets a reassuring squeeze of his hand from Seokjin that makes him take a deep breath he didn’t know he needed. It’s never been him that brought up another potential pack member. It’s always one of his sociable mates that seem to be glued to someone or have a certain glow when they get home after a one-off encounter. He’s never minded it, he even welcomed it as long as they were a good fit for his home and all the people he cared about. But now, it feels like rejection is imminent.

“Y/N is someone that unexpectedly made me feel so warm. Even if I was away from her, I always wished that she was thinking of me the way she thought of me and it’s- embarrassing honestly. Because I had just met her, and I wanted to get to know her faster than I thought was possible. I didn't want to say it in this context, I didn't want it to feel rushed and unprepared because I really do care about you guys and your opinions more than anything, but I also really care about her- in a way that feels filled with potential."

"Hyung." Jimin suddenly speaks up, catching Namjoon's attention immediately.

"I don't mind- I don't think any of us mind that you found someone you're interested in. I think it's obvious we enjoy having a big family- and Y/N was so sweet. But…this only feels rushed because it sounds like you have something else to propose." Jimin says while a few others in the pack nod at his addition. Namjoon can only give a heavy sigh before proceeding.

"I'm sorry this happened this way- I will do it another time. When things hopefully work out or fall apart. I promise I'll come back to this. But, the most important part to discuss is- because of this incident, Y/N will need to be rehomed as soon as she's out of the hospital and ready. Until then she'd be in a shelter that's far too cramped."

"Namjoon, are you saying that someone we met once is to be rehomed with us?" Yoongi asks, using a tone that proves this conversation is not going to go as smoothly as planned.

"I'm not stating or implying it's underway. It's something I am suggesting that we talk about the possibility that our home is a safe place that she needs until she can get her feet on the ground or wherever it takes us. But, for now, a safe home."

"I want her here." Taehyung states without looking at any of the others.

"I'd love to hear more thoughts." Namjoon almost pleads.

"Is she even going to feel safe here?" Hoseok asks, looking wearily at the pack around him.

"I still have to talk to her after this, but I want her to at least have options. Her here, safe in this house, would be the best for her- other than that I'll have to figure it out if you guys aren't comfortable."

"She's really nice, and I felt okay around her. I know you guys make me feel safe. I want her to have that as well." Jungkook speaks up, seeming to have an overall effect on the group. Reminding everyone that they've done this before.

They've taken Jungkook in when the shelter kicked him out and in his attempts to flee he ended up hiding in their backyard as a bunny, nibbling on Seokjin's plants to get some type of food. He wouldn't shift for weeks, and it had Taehyung so perplexed by the little bunny's tolerance for lack of skin to skin contact.

"If we all agree, how would we care for her? She's not going to feel safe automatically, and she's going to need care that we aren't familiar with yet." Yoongi says logically.

"I work from home and will take full responsibility for her. I just want everyone to feel comfortable with her and for her to have a place to heal and keep her relationships. I want everyone to be okay with that before going through."

There's a thoughtful silence, before Seokjin speaks, starting the final decisions.

"I will help Namjoon take care of her, I enjoyed her company and I think that it's best to help others when we're so closely presented the opportunity to- no matter what it leads to."

"I still think the same. She'll be safe here, it's what's best, especially since she's a cheetah." Jungkook agrees again.

"I want her here." Taehyung plainly says again.

"I think her safety at the moment would be best, and Namjoon's judgment is the reason he's the pack leader. I trust you, Joonie-hyung." Jimin adds.

"I agree, and she was sweet and seemed like she needed us to bring her out of her shell, I think she could thrive with hybrids." Hoseok joins.

Everyone seems to turn and look at Yoongi at the same time, knowing that his disapproval changes the whole situation. Namjoon would come up with something else if he didn't want her to stay with them, he's okay with that as long as he can provide something for her.

"I trust you Joon-ah, I told you I don't think you'd ever hurt us. You know I'm just protective of our peace. As long as we can deal with everything as a pack, not just you and her with her needs and changes in behavior- I'm down. We are a pack, we act like one, even if she's not an official member yet."

Namjoon holds onto that 'yet', all the agreements, and the hope he has that Y/N takes this home into consideration.

Y/N

“Alright miss L/N, I’ll be your attorney in any possible cases that may be opened for testimonies and questioning. At the moment, there is enough evidence for detectives and a judge to have a tight self-defense case- but Leonord’s wife could sue for a few reasons and that is her choice, so in those cases I will be defending you free of charge through the re-homing organization. Sounds good so far?”

The lady is quite nice, despite having to sit in the most uncomfortable chair and being in another bright room. Y/N is just happy to have information on everything when it seems no one wanted to tell her anything. She’s still getting flashbacks to last night, to how similar it was to those other times- the only difference being the confidence she was able to obtain having healthy relationships and a roof to live under.

“Sounds good. But- I have a question.”

“Of course.”

“Do you know anything about the re-homing situation?”

“Legally, the organization has to immediately extract you from the home you were in where the incident happened. Even if this was a random incident, or if there was a happenstance that was not the homeowner’s fault or cause- the organization has to deem that home unsafe and thus wants to keep the hybrid’s wellbeing in mind above all.”

“Don’t people have to know about what I did when getting information to home me?” The lady gives her a flash of pity at that, immediately causing Y/N’s stomach to drop.

“Yes, the potential homes will need to know why you are being re-homed with as much information as legally available. But, you case is not-”

She cuts her off after she gets her answer, zoned out to think about all the ways she would be perceived in a time like this. She wouldn’t be re-homed. She’d end up in another shelter that has hybrids packed in like prison cells. She’d have to figure out who is safe and who’s not based solely on looks and conversations she’d rather not have at all.

“Miss L/N?” The attorney says, finally pulling Y/N’s attention onto her again.

“Sorry, I’m listening.”

“I have questioning records containing a Kim Namjoon? You know him personally, correct?”

“Yeah, he’s from the organization, we’re…friends. I was visiting him and his pack yesterday before I was driven home and-” She stops, knowing that the attorney knows everything already.

“I work with him, through the law firm. He’s in charge of hybrid cases in our offices, specifically for hybrid shelters.”

“Okay.”

“I would talk to him about information in the re-homing process.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he’ll have more information for you that will help you in the process.” She gives her a small smile that she can’t even figure out in the context.

“Sure.” Is all she can say, confused and temples pounding from everything I’ve had to process in the past 24 hours.

‘Wanna have dinner together?’

Y/N stares at the confusing text from Namjoon. He does remember that she’s in the hospital, right? The fleeting thought of Namjoon sending this to another girl has reeling into more thoughts that make the first one not so fleeting. Just to make sure he’s not insane right now, she answers.

‘Yeah.’

It takes no time for her hospital room door to open and Namjoon to already be waltzing in with a bag of goodies she can’t pinpoint but can smell. And god, do they smell good. By the time he's up close and opening the bag she can't help but pinpoint her focus on the food he's pulling out rather than whatever he's saying. He finishes opening the containers with a little wave of his hands and pride on his face.

"Seokjin made everything, it's still warm since he just made it, but I thought I'd share it with you."

"What if I had said no?"

"I would've left the food and went on my way after checking up on you. Either way you're fed and I'm happy."

"I'm starting to see how much you and Taehyung have in common." Y/N states, giving him a small smile that in turn stops Namjoon in his tracks for some reason.

"Yeah, we, uh, we were the first of the pack. We found each other in a shelter." Namjoon says, taking his container of perfectly portioned foods and starts to eat.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, it was only a few years ago that I finally got out of there thanks to the organization. There's a lot more to talk about, but, yeah we were the first."

"The organization? You were-"

"A case? Yeah. I was in a shelter for a year, the longest they kept predators like me. The organization puts money into those in the shelters that are about to be kicked out to fend for themselves. I got lucky, extremely lucky. I met Taehyung in there and promised him I’d be back no matter what. I worked to push away all my hate for humans and what they’d done to those like me- I worked alongside them and was able to carve a place for myself in society. It took me almost exactly a year, but Taehyung is a year younger than me so I was able to get to him in time. Well, perfect timing- because his time as a predator was also up and instead of having to pay a large sum to a shelter that definitely didn’t deserve it I was able to just show up on the day he was released by them with nothing provided for his survival. I had my own little apartment by then and was able to afford to regularly donate to the organization. I scored an amazing job with lots of training, and with Taehyung’s help I was able to shut down that shelter and rehome all those inside of it. Sadly, a lot went to the organization’s shelters. But, they’re the best bet they have, really. They got the care they needed there, nonetheless.”

Hearing Namjoon’s story for the first time clicks things into place that seemingly weren’t as snuggly fit in as she thought they were. His kindness towards her no matter how she acted towards him, the amount of time and effort he put into volunteering and thus her, and the amount of truth behind his words when he voices his thoughts and concerns for her. It all finally presses into the crevices that were ready to fall apart in time of being disappointed. It’s as if a glowing hue of blue settles around him as she stares at him, watching him eat, watching him move. It’s odd to feel this way about someone, when she never had the luxury to even ‘like’ a person before. Now, she feels something deep in her gut- something that wants her to memorize every piece of him, every little breath and quirk of his features.

“What’s that look for?” Namjoon asks with an amused smile, pulling her out of the trance. But, it’s not a trance when that safe aura sticks to him even when she’s paying attention to the mundane current happenings.

“I don’t know.” She says honestly- she has no clue what it all means. But how awful would it feel if it ended? “You’re just, admirable.”

“I just wanted to do my best for him and myself.”

“That’s hard for a lot of people.” She says, mostly referring to herself.

“Nah, people just don’t give themselves enough credit. We’re all here just trying to live and search for something fulfilling.” Namjoon shoots back.

“Yeah. I guess.” Her heart clenches at his words. Fulfilling. Whatever she has with him could just be fulfilling, thus it’s a reason for her to keep trying.

“Namjoon.” She tries to get his attention. He only looks up at her in question.

“I met an attorney. One that mentioned she works with you.” She stirs around her still uneaten rice and veggies to get some courage to go on. “She told me to ask about the rehoming situation? Do you know why?”

His look alone is enough to tell her he does, but he doesn’t immediately say anything.

“I, uh, yeah-” he sets down his bowl of food before going on, preparing himself for something that she’s suddenly scared to find out. “I contacted her earlier today. That’s honestly, probably, why she got to talk to you so quickly. I kinda- Well I kinda asked her what the process would be like to suggest a home for you that isn’t on the official list, but is home to a volunteer.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if there’s any perfect way to suggest this, but- I knew about the protocol the organization has in place for something like this, and I knew you would need to be rehomed. I’m in a position where I could- help.” He pauses before finishing. “Well, we could, my pack.”

“Namjoon.” She can’t get anything else out.

“I talked to them after leaving this morning. I just needed to discuss it and make sure that this was something that they were all okay with, and we are a large family so it needs to be well-conversed. They all are okay with it, and I know it’s going to take a ton of effort and planning and consideration on my part- I’m not taking this lightly at all. That’s the only reason I contacted her so fast, I just wanted to make sure that this was something that could be done before even bringing it up to you. I don’t want to ever give you false hope or feel like you can’t trust me or what I say- so I’ve really thought about it and all the guys have as well. We could share our home with you if you’d like. I’d like you to be a part of it.”

She can’t tell if it’s a feeling of instant relief, so quickly having left her body that she’s nauseous- or she’s just nauseous in general over the thought of her actually having this option. It could also be the fact that Namjoon truly cares with his whole being, it feels like. Living with his damn pack after a police investigation done on her that had him questioned. Living with his pack after meeting them once and sharing little awkward conversations. Living with his pack of seven guys that all seem to be totally okay with it. It’s the first that drives her the most mad.

“You don’t even know what I did.”

“You said you didn’t want to tell me right now. I respect that- and I trust you, Y/N.”

“Why? Why would they all agree and why-” She can’t even comprehend the consideration they’re taking.

“In the most basic way possible- we are hybrids that have been in shit positions before, they all vary and they all have their own story to tell, but we care about each other no matter what. We know what it’s like to not have anyone, or to finally find someone and try to lock onto them to keep safe and protected. It’s the animal in us that needs to form a pack, and that isn’t something as simple as human words can tell. It feels right- having you around.”

If he tells it in that way- animal instincts and such- it makes more sense. But it still doesn’t excuse the human part of her that did what it did. Hell, she’s sure her cheetah played a large role in what she did. Right now, though, she wants to hold onto this hope, and she wants to have something that isn’t just temporary or pity-filled. This is the best choice she has, being safe in the pack home, with Namjoon and Taehyung especially. She’ll have a chance to learn more about her cheetah more often and she can finally learn about other hybrids. If anything, Namjoon will hear what she did and will decide against keeping her there, and then she can figure it out. But for now, she has a chance to be safe. That’s all she wants right now.

“I have another deal to make.”

“Lemme hear it.”

“If I accept and you hear what I’ve done and you change your mind afterwards-” Namjoon looks as if he’ll speak but she gives him a pointed look. “If you change your mind, then I will find an alternative through the system and deal with my own consequences accordingly. If I accept and you hear what I’ve done but feel as though it doesn’t change your comfort, then I will need something to do. I can’t live with you for free as someone who’s not a part of the pack. Whatever you decide that fits my schedule, I will help around the house.”

“As pack leader-” Namjoon holds out his hand for her to grab onto, his warmth immediate and addicting. “You have a deal.”

#bts au #bts fic #namjoon au #namjoon x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid fic

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s0ulsniper · 1 year

Note

hi !! I love your work and I was wondering if you could maybe do a albert x !gn reader? with prompts 40 and 3 :) it’s okay if not I 100% understand I just thought i’d ask !! have a good day/afternoon/night and take care ! <3

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Hi anon !! :)

thank you for being so nice every time I see this it basically makes me cry.

sorry this took so long !!

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Prompts:

40.) "How many times have I told you already? Sit still !"

3.) "I can braid your hair for you- I mean only if you want to."

Summary: after a long day of aimlessly messing around your town, you and albert both decide to go home after being kicked out of a Walmart.

Word count:

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The door screeches shut while you kick the snow off your shoes.

Albert cannot stop laughing, of course. Even though you were tired, you couldn't help but smile at his antics.

"hopefully no one caught that- actually I hope they did. that would be something funny to post about." You admit putting your shoes and coat by the door.

"what? you falling off the top of the freezers because you thought it was a good idea to hit a kickflip on top of it?" albert questions hanging his coat over yours chuckling.

"well... yes." you answer. "i'm gonna shower, and then were gonna make a pillow fort and watch the marvel timeline."

you pivot on your foot to cleanse yourself from the dirt. your side ached, feeling sore of something. you suspected it was from the fall. the freezers weren't very high but it definitely took something out of you falling face first into the cold, hard floor.

you walk into albert's room and open a drawer, one specifically dedicated for when you stay the night. which was almost every night, so it's turned into you and albert just sharing clothes.

you pull some comfy shorts and baggy shirt from your drawer. you quizzed at why one of albert's shirts was in your drawer but why even think? it's a pretty nice band tee.

after you clean yourself up, you drag yourself downstairs, your blanket slumped over your shoulder.

"alberttt-" you call.

you hear him answer from in the living room, some sort of weird noise as response.

you walk into the dimly lit room to see the tv set up to the first movie to watch.

most of the pillow fort was already set up, which consisted of a couple pillows on the floor. looking more of a pillow ruin than the fort itself.

you sigh but decide to leave it, too tired to try to rebuild.

"what happened here?"

"well I built the fort... but I had the urge to jump on it." he pauses. "and I did."

you laugh at his antics but step your way to the couch.

you both lay on the couch, the marvel movies playing while you drown yourselves in the feeling of being tangled in each other.

"my head is killing me.." you mumble against albert's chest, which heavies in rhythm with your breaths.

albert sounds to say something but pauses, hesitating.

"I can braid your hair for you- I mean only if you want to." he proposes.

you quirk your head up, heart getting excited at the thought of the event.

"please." you laugh.

he guides you to situp, pointing you to the spot off but against the couch, between his legs.

you feel his fingers on your hair and your body relaxes, eyes threatening to shut while he messages your head.

you couldn't help but keep fidgeting and moving around, trying to stay awake to savor the moment was important.

yut nevertheless, you feel your head droop.

"sit still, n/n-" he urges, carefully braiding your hair.

you apologize with half-lidded eyes. the battle of the century.

"how many times have I told you already? sit still !" albert complains.

"I'm sorry al, I'm just tired."

you feel him loosen, guilt enveloping from your incoherent response.

"I'm almost done, n/n.."

he finishes in no time, reaching for your hair tie to complete the style.

You thank him, the loose braid and head message helped enough for you to dooze off.

he helps you up, guiding you to lay against him on the couch, your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

you incoherently keep thanking him as you fall into your sleep, and his heart leaps at it.

he just found you so adorable whenever you were like this.

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TAGS 🏷️:

#flamingo x reader #albert aretz #albert aretz x reader #albert x reader #flamingo

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drabbles-mc · 3 months

Text

Turn of the Tide (1/2)

Pirate!Stucky AU

Summary: After years apart thinking that they would never see each other again, Steve and Bucky come face to face under circumstances neither of them ever would have dreamed of.

Warnings: 18+, minor blood/injury, angst (with a happy ending), pining, alcohol

For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: Pirates

Part 2 can be found HERE

Word Count: 9.3k (oops)

A/N: First of all, thank you for @buckybarnesevents and @rookthorne for putting this event together again! Without y'all and your amazing cards/prompts, I never would've tried to tackle something like this and I had SOOO much fun doing it. So thank you so much. Kisses to you both 💕 I'll be posting part 2 sometime within the next week!

MCU Taglist: @artemiseamoon @garbinge (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

They were hardly more than boys when Steve had lost him. No matter how many years went by, no matter how many times people told Steve that what happened wasn’t his fault, he never believed it. He’d long since lost count of the number of times that he had set foot on a ship since then, but it didn’t matter—every time it happened there was a pang of guilt that went through him.

It had been the perfect mess of circumstances. They were young. Strong, but still young and there was a certain type of control that even the strongest boys would only garner with age and they hadn’t yet. That wasn’t something they ever considered, though, their confidence bolstered from knowing the ships like the backs of their hands. Whether it was calm waters or riveting storms, they always moved with the assurance of men who had it all under control. Most of the time they had someone looking over their shoulders to make sure that things didn’t get out of hand. It was usually Steve’s dad—the ships were his after all. The man had a sixth sense for when the two of them were getting out of control or close to it and he always showed up to reel them back in just in time.

He had tried, too, the night that they lost James. The winds were picking up, the waters were getting rougher. He knew that it was spelling out bad news, but he could still hear the chatter and laughter between the two boys out on the deck. He warned them, telling them to get inside, telling them to leave the storm prep to the men who had been doing this with him since before either of them was born.

Steve nodded, immediately ready to follow the direction. More often than not that was how it went. James had nodded as well, but there was also a look in his eyes that betrayed the fact that he wasn’t prepared to just sit back and let everyone else get to have all the fun. He was young enough and inexperienced enough to still consider it fun.

James had always had that little bit of an edge to him. From the moment Steve turned up with him at home one evening when they were small. Steve’s parents didn’t have to ask James many questions to quickly pull together that he was a boy in need of some stability, a place to be that might help keep him out of trouble. They took him in as much as they could, as much as James would let them. It worked—he brought Steve out of his shell as they got older, and Steve kept him from getting too carried away a lot of the time. There were some times, though, like the night of the storm, that Steve’s starry-eyed admiration and love for the boy he’d grown up alongside of got the better of him. James would give him that little smirk, would make a little bit of a coaxing motion with his hand, and Steve would give right into him.

It'd been years and not a day had gone by that Steve didn’t kick himself for giving into it that night. He was just a kid, and there wasn’t anything that he really could’ve done, but he knew that it was always going to haunt him. He could still hear the thunder, feel the intense rocking of the ship. If he shut his eyes for too long when he thought about it, he swore he could feel the rain pelting against his skin, wind beating against his face. He felt the way that he reached for James’s hand, the way their fingertips just barely grazed but it wasn’t enough. He heard the scream that he let out as he fell, hated the way it was the last thing he ever heard of him.

Steve always inevitably thought about the way that if his father had just been a few seconds later, if he hadn’t gotten there in time, Steve would’ve leapt right over the edge in after James. It would’ve been futile in the darkness and the rough waters, but Steve had still been ready to do it. A couple second’s worth of a difference and Steve wouldn’t be standing on the deck of that same ship all those years later, still taking orders from his father, still carrying the guilt on his shoulders along with everything else.

He stood there staring at the edge of the deck, knowing exactly where he’d been standing that night, one rock of the ship away from going over the edge just like James had. There were no prints left behind from his boots but he could still see them plain as day.

He was dragged out of his waking nightmare by the feeling of someone’s hand coming and clamping down on his shoulder. He turned to see who it was, a tight smile coming across his face when he saw it was Sam. Sam had come along a couple years after they lost James, back when Steve still thought there was a possibility of his best friend showing up again. Sam was kind, helpful. He didn’t have that same type of defiant streak that James had had which was a relief to Steve’s father and the rest of the men running the crew. As time went on, he and Sam got along well enough, but he never let anyone in like he had with James. How could he?

Sam knew it all, and never seemed to take anything to heart. He didn’t let the distance faze him. “Think they might be leaving you in charge.”

Confusion flooded Steve’s features. “What?”

Sam nodded towards the ramp that led down to the dock. “Captain Rogers wasn’t feeling well, they said. But we still have to make the run.”

Steve gestured towards the cabin. “What about—”

“They said it was gonna be you.” Sam took his hand from Steve’s shoulder and let it fall back to his side. “Next Captain Rogers. Was always going to happen, wasn’t it?”

Steve chuckled good-naturedly. “It’s one trip my father isn’t well enough to come on himself. Hardly me taking over.”

“Gotta start somewhere. Maybe if this goes well…” he trailed off, knowing that Steve would fill in the blanks.

“You still want to go, Wilson?”

Sam’s smile was bright, genuine. “Gonna need a right hand—of course I still want to come.”

Steve left Sam and the rest of the crew to continue with their preparations for departure while he slipped off to have a conversation with his father, confirm that what Sam had told him was actually the truth and not just a misunderstanding. It didn’t take much, though. The moment that he walked into his father’s bedroom, he could tell by just taking one look at the man that he was too sick to be on the ship for the next trip they had planned, no matter how straight-forward or brief. Steve didn’t stay and talk for very long. He knew the route—it was their usual trade run. Very rarely did they have any issues with the traveling itself, and the crew was steady and consistent. As long as their usual vendors were there when they arrived, everything should go perfectly according to plan even if Steve was the one at the helm instead of his father.

The little pangs of guilt that went through him whenever he went onto the ship went away faster than usual this time around. He had more to preoccupy his mind this time, able to stay busy. He’d been watching his father do this his whole life, could recite it all from memory at any given point if someone asked, but it was different when he was the one who actually had to do it. It felt good.

The first day of sailing had gone by without incident. The waters were calm and it looked like it might even stay that way. The crew hardly batted an eye when Steve was the one who started giving out orders. There were a few jokes made, all in jest with no malice to be found, but other than that everyone went along like it was business as usual. Steve supposed that in a way, it was.

The sun was starting to set on the second night. Steve could see it in the clouds that there was the potential of inclement weather, and possibly rough waters. They had planned ahead enough that anchoring for one night wasn’t going to set them terribly behind. It would be safer to do that rather than trying to sail through a storm and losing everything. Even if he hadn’t been heading things up on his own for the first time, he would’ve suggested airing on the side of caution. It was his default now, and most of the crew knew it. They also knew better than to try and argue or convince him otherwise.

It was late, the sun completely gone. The stars shone overhead but before long the wind would be blowing in clouds that would cover them up. The breeze was already strong enough to begin roughing up the water. It wasn’t terrible yet, but as he felt the ship start to sway, he wondered how bad it was going to get.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t heard Sam coming up behind him. It wasn’t until Sam’s boots hit the wood of the stair that Steve was sitting on that he realized it all. Steve snapped his head to look at him, and Sam was just staring down at him with a smile on his face. There was no denying the exhaustion in Sam’s expression, and Steve was sure that he looked much the same. It was a good day but even good days were tiring.

Steve wasn’t expecting Sam to plop down on the step next to him, but he did. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Rather than offering a verbal ice breaker, Sam held out the bottle in his hand, offering it to Steve. He accepted it, fingers curling around the neck of it. He brought it up to his lips and took a sip, letting the liquor scorch its way down the column of his throat.

He brought it back to his lips to take a second sip and all he could think about in that moment was James. He thought about the nights the two of them spent up on the neck, thinking that they had been so sneaky pilfering liquor from his father. There was no way that the man hadn’t known, but he hadn’t said anything about it. Part of kids growing up, teenagers stealing from their parents’ liquor cabinets. Steve had hated the taste of it back then, and really didn’t much care for it now either. James had never seemed bothered by it, though. He would take a swig from the bottle and he wouldn’t cough or cringe the way that Steve always seemed to. It went down like water for him. And, while the years that passed made it so Steve didn’t cough with every sip anymore, he still always felt himself wincing at least a little bit each time. All those years had passed and he still wasn’t who James had been.

“Is it strange?” Sam asked.

For a moment Steve irrationally thought that Sam was asking the question in relation to all of the thoughts that had just been flying through Steve’s head. But then the logical part of his brain took over once more. Steve shook his head as he handed the bottle back to Sam. “Not that strange. I’ve watched him do this for years—it’s not new.”

“You guys ever run into problems out here?”

Steve shrugged. “Not on this run, usually. I remember my dad had come home once or twice with stories of fights and pirates. I never knew how much of it was just him trying to scare me into listening to him and my mother.” The comment got a chuckle out of Sam and Steve found himself smiling too. “But I know it’s been getting more dangerous out here.” A strong gust of wind blew and rocked the ship, causing both men to brace themselves to keep from toppling over. “Haven’t heard about anything but that doesn’t mean it isn’t happening. If trouble comes,” Steve’s hand subconsciously strayed to the gun at his hip, “we’ll be ready.”

He hoped he would be, at least. He wasn’t worried about the rest of the crew. They were seasoned sailors, most of them doing this since Steve was a baby if not longer, though they were younger men back then. But still, they’d run across thieves and pirates in their time and lived to tell the tale. Steve had never had the misfortune, however, to be on-board a ship with his father when there were unwelcome guests. He’d never had to use his gun on someone, or his sword. All he’d ever used them for was practice. He was hoping to keep it that way for as long as possible.

He turned to Sam. “You should get some sleep. Everything’s battened down out here just in case. We’ll be all set.”

“You gonna get some sleep, Cap?”

Steve chuckled at the moniker. “Yeah, I’m gonna get some sleep.”

He had no real clue how long he had actually been asleep for, but when he was yanked back into consciousness, it felt like he’d just barely shut his eyes. He wasn’t woken by a sound, but rather a feeling. The sensation of cold, sharp steel pressed against his throat. His eyes popped open instantly, and luckily enough his body fought the impulse to shoot upright at the disturbance. If he’d moved much more, he would’ve had yet another pressing issue to deal with on top of everything else that was happening.

He blinked the last of the blurriness out of his eyes. When the room came into focus, a fresh jolt of fear shot down his spine. His eyes traveled up the blade that was pressed against his throat, crawling their way up the arm of the person holding it until they reached the other’s face.

With only one candle in his room still left burning, Steve couldn’t make out the details of the man who was currently one flick of his wrist away from ending his entire life. He had long, dark, shaggy hair. It was covering just as much of his face as the shadows in the room were. With the hand that wasn’t keeping the short blade pressed firmly against Steve’s throat, he brought one finger up and pressed it to his own lips.

“Let’s stay quiet,” the man spoke, his whisper deep and raspy. “Would hate to bring the rest of your crew into this.”

The more that Steve’s eyes adjusted to the dark, the more details he could start to pick out about the person who had allowed himself onto their ship. He saw the myriad of jewelry draped around the man’s neck, around the wrist nearest his throat. The loose shirt left a fair amount of the man’s collarbone exposed, but that was hardly a blip on Steve’s radar when he noticed the way the sleeves of the man’s shirt were pushed up. His left arm, the one not holding the blade to him, was covered in scarring. It was too dark still for Steve to be able to try and guess what the cause of it might’ve been, but he had to assume that it wasn’t unrelated to the fact that this man was sneaking aboard ships in the middle of the night like this.

“I have a feeling,” Steve finally said, gathering his wits about him, “that you already did.”

Even in the dark the man’s smile was impossible to miss. “I’d say no one can get past you but,” he nodded towards the blade currently pressed against Steve’s throat, “apparently they can.”

Steve exhaled harshly through his nose, his patience wearing thin despite not knowing what he wanted his next move to be. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you’ve got.” The man looked around the tiny cabin space that they were currently in. “Merchant ship this size?” He nodded approvingly. “I think you might have a few things my crew could make use of.”

Steve shook his head as much as he was able, feeling the slight pull of the blade against his throat as he did so. “We don’t have—”

“Don’t lie to me,” the man’s whisper was as sharp as the steel in his hand.

He exhaled again, this time the breath came out unsteady. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the man in front of him, but he needed to look and see just how far away his gun was, or even his own blade. Was it close enough to reach for? Would he be able to move quickly enough to grab it before it was too late? If he did get it and manage to stay in one piece in the process, would he be able to take out the man in front of him before he could alert the rest of his own crew? He didn’t hear them moving around the ship but if they weren’t aboard yet, it wouldn’t be long until they were. The longer that Steve kept this man trapped in the room with him, the more likely it was that his men would become restless and come looking for him.

Steve held the man’s gaze for a moment longer before settling on a plan of action. Anything was better than sitting there and doing nothing. Not letting his eye contact waver, Steve swiftly drove his foot into the man’s sternum and pushed him backwards. It didn’t knock him completely down, but it put enough distance between them for Steve to twist and grab his own blade from beside his bed. He felt the burn on his throat where the other man’s blade had broken the skin, but he knew from the feeling of it that it wasn’t enough of an injury to cause a problem right now. There were much more important things at hand anyway.

He leapt out of bed, sword at the ready. In the limited space at their disposal in Steve’s quarters, they paced a circle around each other, sizing each other up. They were quite the pair against each other, Steve in his thin white sleepwear while the man was standing there fully dressed and ready for whatever was coming his way. There was something about the man that felt familiar to Steve, but he couldn’t for the life of him fathom what it was. He didn’t make a point of consorting with pirates, so he didn’t know what the draw was. He could barely make out the features of the man’s face, but there was something. Maybe it was just the panic in his system, looking to make sense out of something that was random and senseless. Wrong place, wrong time. If he lived to tell the tale, he was never going to hear the end of it from his father.

Time for calculation was over. Steve stepped, lunging with his sword. It was a blade that was longer than that of the other man’s, and he was hoping that would prove to be an advantage. The move wasn’t effective, the man blocking it with ease. The edges of the blades glided along each other as they each tried to push through and get closer.

Steve regained control of his blade and created an opportunity for himself to make another attempt. The sweeping gesture he made was mildly more effective than his first move—he felt the difference in pull as the sword cut along the skin of the man’s chest. He hissed in pain, turning away from the blade as best he could. It was surface-level damage, not all that much worse than the nick on Steve’s neck all things being considered. The thin slash was enough to cause blood to start seeping into the loose white fabric of the man’s shirt, making it start to stick to his chest.

Steve did his best to take advantage of the split-second of surprise, that brief moment the man spent recognizing that Steve had made contact. He stepped in and made another short, sharp motion and knocked the sword from the man’s hand. It clattered to the floor, sounding impossibly loud. Steve knew that this was the moment. If he was going to put a stop to this man, this was the time to do it. It would only take him another second, after all, to lunge and sweep his blade back up off the floor. Steve knew that he should send his sword right through the man’s chest, or slash the blade harshly across his throat. It was no better or worse than what they would do to him on-shore—pirates weren’t ever punished with anything less than a public hanging. It wasn’t as though Steve would be changing the outcome for this man. This was the only type of end he was going to meet. He must’ve known that when he decided to become a pirate. It wasn’t a lifestyle that was known for staving off a man’s expiration.

He brought his hand up to do exactly what he had practiced, what countless lessons over the years had trained him to do. One more sweep of his arm and it was all over. But he couldn’t. The blade stopped mere centimeters away from the man’s throat. Instead, he closed his first that wasn’t holding onto his sword, and struck a harsh blow to the man’s jaw, one that did knock him down to the ground.

It didn’t take much after that for Steve to get the man pinned down onto the floor. The man was lying on his stomach, one side of his face flattened against the wood floor beneath them. Steve was wrangling the man’s arms behind his back, ready to tie them into place when he heard a cacophony of footsteps and shouting out on the deck. Even with Steve’s knee digging into the man’s back, he still managed to get a laugh out.

Steve ignored the way that the man’s laugh made his nerves spike. He busied himself with the knot he’s started in the rope around the man’s wrists. The voices were clearer now, and Steve could also hear those of his crew as well. The mess was growing worse by the second and he still wasn’t sure what each step of the plan was going to be yet, he only knew the outcome that he wanted, no, needed.

He heard the man’s crew calling out for him, multiple men shouting out, “Captain!” What caught Steve’s attention, however, was the fact that at least one member of the man’s crew was calling out, “Bucky!”

Steve yanked as hard as he could as he finished the knot, noticing the sharp breath of pain the man let out beneath him. “Bucky, huh? That’s what they call you?”

He chuckled, like the position he was in hardly registered as an inconvenience. “Only my friends.” He turned his head to look at Steve. “That what we are now, Captain?”

Steve pressed his knee harder into the space between the man’s shoulder blades. “Hardly.”

Shifting his weight, Steve brought himself to a crouching position for a moment, feet planted just to the side of the man’s, Bucky apparently, body. Before Bucky could get so much as another snide comment out, Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky’s bicep as much as he could before heaving him up off the floor. Bucky was nearly stumbling to keep up with the force that he had been lifted with. Under different circumstances he would’ve been impressed, as he hadn’t expected the captain to have such an easy time of it. Bucky didn’t put up as much of a fight as he could have, and probably should have, as Steve grabbed hold of his sword again now that they were both upright.

It was impossible to miss, as Steve dragged Bucky towards the door, that the noise outside had reached its crescendo and died down considerably. No more firing guns and clanging swords. There were still the shouts and grumblings of disgruntled men, and all Steve could do was hope that most of the men still able to talk, still up and about, were his own.

He was just about to reach for the doorknob when someone on the other side yanked it open. The surprise that shot through Steve, that made him brandish his sword, quickly melted away into relief when he saw that Sam was the one who had pulled the door open. If Sam was coming to get him, he just had to hope that that meant his men had ended up with the upper hand. A success not unlike what Steve had managed against Bucky.

Sam’s eyes were wide with shock as he looked back and forth between Steve and the man that he had a vice grip on. “C-Captain,” he finally stammered out.

Steve could see, even in the low light, the blood smeared on Sam’s clothing. He hoped that most of it wasn’t his own. Sam was still upright, and aside from the panic and shock he seemed to be doing alright. “Wilson,” Steve said, trying his best to sound reassured, like he wasn’t just as panicked and just as out of breath as the man in front of him, “how’s the crew?”

Sam nodded but the worry was still thick in his expression. “We, they, um.” He couldn’t find it in himself to ignore the glare that Bucky was giving him. “Come and see.”

The confidence that Steve had been starting to garner began to slip away as he followed Sam’s instructions. He watched as Sam turned on his heel and headed back to the deck. Steve shifted his grip on Bucky’s arm, keeping a tight hold on the thick cord of muscle that ran up the back of his bicep, fingers digging as he pushed Bucky forward through the doorway first. The action was rough enough to nearly make the man stumble, but he managed to catch himself.

The deck was a mess, but as Steve took quick stock of the situation at hand, he was relieved to see that all the members of his crew were, more or less, in one piece. Some had injuries that would need more attending to in the daylight, and more still once they reached shore or returned home, but it didn’t seem as though anyone was at risk of slipping away from them just yet.

The same could not be said for all the members of Bucky’s crew. Some of them were bound much like their captain, left incapacitated against the mast. Others weren’t so lucky, their blood staining the wood more and more as each second ticked by. Bucky felt his anger renew, and he struggled against Steve’s grasp knowing it wasn’t going to get him anywhere, wasn’t going to change anything. It was a risk they all ran, living the life that they did, and Bucky knew that as well as any of them. Still, though, he felt responsible for them—he was still their captain after all.

Steve and Bucky’s crews had been matched well in terms of numbers. From the looks of it, Steve might’ve only had two or three men more. But Bucky’s crew was much greener than Steve’s. Most of that was chalked up to age. After all, while there were many benefits to youth, not many things could match experience. A majority of Steve’s crew were still young enough to be able to fight if they had too, but they were also old enough to know a lot of the tricks others had up their sleeves. It was why they were able to come out on top, even if they didn’t come out of it unscathed.

Steve felt Bucky pull against him again and he brought the sword up so that it was pressed against Bucky’s throat. Perhaps it was a bit of an empty threat after how things had played out the first time, but it still made a point.

“If you don’t want this blade to go any deeper,” Steve said as he adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword, “I would stop fighting.”

“Why?” Bucky grit out. “So you can bring us in and hand us off to someone else who will do the same? Hang us in—”

“You knew the risks when you decided to become pirates,” Steve cut him off, confidence back in his voice again.

He pushed Bucky towards where the rest of his crew was tied, impressed with how little pushback there was. He was tempted to make a comment about honor among thieves, but he knew as well as anyone the loyalty between a captain and his crew. There was a little gnawing at the back of his brain knowing that it carried over to pirates as well.

Sam stepped up so that he was beside Steve. “What do you want us to do?”

Steve nodded towards the mast. “Put him with the rest. We’ll keep them there for now.” He let out a deep sigh as he relaxed his arm, his sword lowering until the tip of it just barely touched the paneling of the deck. “We’ll move on now—reach port by the afternoon.”

One of the men tried to speak up, clearly exhausted from everything. “Cap—"

“I’ll take it from here,” Steve reassured, already knowing where the sentence was going. He was as exhausted as any of them, but he knew that there would be no going back to sleep for him now. He wouldn’t be able to rest until they returned back home. Maybe not even then. “One of you can relieve me in the morning.”

There was a tense silence, but no one spoke up to argue. The sense of unease about the plan was outweighed by people’s need to rest and lick their wounds. Steve watched as one of his men finished tying Bucky down. In the daylight he would be able to get a better look at him, at all of them. He wondered if he would feel any different afterwards.

Steve’s men slowly started to head back to their barracks, one by one. The deck slowly started to empty. The ship rocked slightly, and it wasn’t until that moment that Steve realized the storm he had been expecting never came. There had been some wind, a few smatterings of rain, but nothing like what it could’ve been. They could start carrying on right then with no issue, and now that was exactly what Steve was planning to do.

“Captain,” Sam spoke up, trying to sound certain but not quite hitting the correct note.

Steve hadn’t even noticed that Sam didn’t return to his quarters like the rest of the men on board had. Steve tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible as he turned to face Sam. Steve knew that he must’ve been just as rattled as he was, if not more-so. He wondered briefly how Sam had held up when the fight itself was happening. He had some wounds to show for it, so he had at least shown up, hadn’t stowed himself away. Steve had a feeling that Sam would be the type to stick by the crew, but that was one of those things that you never really knew about a man until they were thrown into the thick of it.

“Wilson,” Steve said in response, his tone more convincing than his counterpart’s. “You can head off too. If I need—”

“I’d rather stay,” Sam spit out before he lost the nerve. “If that’s alright. I don’t,” he shook his head, “I don’t think that I’m going to be going back to sleep anytime soon.”

Steve nodded understandingly. “Okay.”

The relief cascaded across Sam’s face. “Okay.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure as much for his captain in front of him as for the men who were tied up to the mast behind him. They didn’t need to be seeing any weakness from him. “Besides,” some of his charm returned to his voice, even if it was a little more deflated than usual, “you’ll need a hand getting everything loosed to sail.”

The smile on Steve’s face actually felt like a genuine one, even through the exhaustion and the stress. “That’s true.” He nodded towards the ropes tied off on the side of the ship. “You know what to do, then.”

Sam gave a nod and headed right off, knowing the routine by heart, as close to matching Steve’s knowledge and comfort as he could. He moved with calculated ease, and after watching him for a minute, Steve headed off to handle the rest. Even with just the two of them working, they would be ready to go rather quickly.

Sam was climbing down the netting, calling out to Steve as he did. “Captain Rogers!” he exclaimed. “We’re ready!”

Steve nodded. “Pull anchor!”

Bucky had been watching both of the men intently from where he was strapped down on the deck. The longer he’d been sitting there, the more he had a strange feeling pulling at the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t just the feeling of being captured, the dread of what was going to come next. There was something else, something that he couldn’t quite put a name to.

It all came crashing down the second he heard Sam call the man in charge Captain Rogers. Bucky was sure that more words had been exchanged after the fact but he hadn’t heard them. Everything else fell away, the waves crashing around the ship, the groans and words of anger and discomfort coming from his men around him. The darkness seemed to get thicker as the reality of the situation started to rip through him.

All he could do was look at the man who had put him there. It’d been too dark, too chaotic to see it before. But now? With nothing else left for him to do but look? He could see it. As soon as the words had left Sam’s mouth, Bucky could see it. The years that had passed since they last saw each other had aged them both, Bucky more-so due to the hardships that he’d faced, things that Steve wouldn’t have had to worry about even in his wildest dreams. They were both grown now, and yet they were still just boys messing around on the deck of his father’s ship after dark. The stakes were higher now, but at the core of it, they were the same as they’d ever been. Bucky too far out over the ledge, Steve not quite out on the ledge with him.

Bucky thought that his heart was going to explode, splatter within the confines of his chest as each small thought and realization hit him one after the other after the other. His eyes were wide as he continued to stare at Steve, willing himself to say or do something, anything at all.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Bucky was finally able to force out one word. “Steve?” All the previous anger and snark in his voice was gone. He hadn’t spoken quite in a whisper, but it wasn’t loud enough to carry across the deck, especially not when the man in question was most likely trying to tune him out, along with all of his men. He cleared his throat, trying to say it with a little more force this time. “Steve?”

That time it reached the captain’s ears. Steve’s head snapped in Bucky’s direction, confusion etched so deep into his features that Bucky could see it despite the darkness around them. Steve’s eyes narrowed, trying to figure out where he got that information from. None of the men had called him by his first name in front of Bucky. Maybe they’d mentioned something in front of the rest of the crew, in the heat of everything else that was going on maybe that was simply a piece of information that had slipped out. Not the end of the world, really. But if that was the case, why was Bucky saying it like that? Why did he seem surprised? Maybe even a little sad? More than that, why did Steve feel like there was something intimately familiar about the way that Bucky said it?

The longer that they stared at each other from across the deck, the more Bucky could feel his emotions continuing to well in his chest. His limbs felt heavy, and suddenly his physical wounds were the least of his worries—they paled in comparison to the way that the years of hardship and being apart from everything he’d ever known, everyone he’d ever known, were crushing him from the inside out. He wanted to have more to say, but what was there? What was he supposed to say now that they had ended up like this? They hadn’t recognized each other, after all. He didn’t know if it made it more or less heartbreaking that it was mutual.

“Steve,” he repeated himself, this time not as a question.

Steve didn’t want to believe it. His grip tightened on the helm, blunted fingernails digging into the finish of the wood. The longer that he stared down at Bucky, however, the harder it was to try and lie to himself. He couldn’t try and ignore him and pretend all the way until they reached port. His resolve wouldn’t last that long, not if Bucky really was who he was about to claim to be.

He didn’t take his eyes off of the man as he called out to Sam. “Wilson!” In his peripheral he could see the way that Sam was listening, waiting. “Man the helm for me for a moment, will you?”

Sam nodded as he strode over, immediately ready to oblige. He placed his hands right where Steve’s had been, ready to keep the course. He had watched the entire scene unfold and while he couldn’t say that he had a full grip on the situation, he could feel the tension in the air that this was now about much more than a rag-tag group of pirates who had tried and failed to rob and possibly commandeer their ship. He wasn’t sure the depths of what it was about now, but it felt precarious. And precarious was dangerous when they were out in open water in the middle of the night the way that they were.

“Cap, I don’t know what happened with Bucky, but—”

“I’ve got it under control, Sam,” Steve said, his reassurance sounding surprisingly real despite the fact that Steve had no idea what was about to unfold. Maybe that was what it was like to be a captain, just making sure that everyone else felt reassured even if he didn’t feel very certain himself. He gave Sam’s shoulder an affectionate clap. “Stay the course.”

Sam got half a word out but before he could finish, Steve was already descending back towards the main deck, and Sam was left unable to do anything but watch him. There would just have to be time for the questions later.

Bucky had been watching the entire interaction unfold between them. He couldn’t hear for sure what they had been saying, but he could see the way that Steve had hardly taken his eyes off of him even though he had been speaking to Sam the entire time. Bucky hoped that boded well for him, that this wasn’t just some hopeless dream or delusion of his. He hoped that whatever there was between them way back when, that loyalty and whatever else existed unspoken there, had kept after all these years. Even if the stakes had changed drastically.

He watched as Steve made his way closer to him. The last mental image he had of Steve was when they’d been so young. Steve had been shorter, so much skinnier. He’d been strong enough when they were teenagers, but he’d always been slimmer and wirier than Bucky ever had been. It’d been a sore spot for a little while there. Clearly it wasn’t a problem anymore, if the way that Steve had been dragging him around with ease said anything.

Bucky felt like he blinked and suddenly Steve was standing in front of him. He tilted his head back, feeling the way it tapped against the mast when he’d tilted back as far as he could. He couldn’t remember a time before when he had to look up at Steve that way. All of the words he’d ever learned were stuck at the base of his throat as he watched Steve study him more closely, a deeper intent there now that recognition, and acceptance were nipping at his heels.

Steve had grabbed a lantern on his way, wanting to give himself as good of a view as possible of the man who was claiming, without saying it in so many words, to be the friend he’d lost at sea nearly two decades ago at that point. Time was so cruel the way it just kept slipping by.

Ignoring the attempted thrashing and angry commentary of the men who were left of Bucky’s crew, Steve finally lowered himself down so that he was face level with the man tied to the mast. He studied Bucky’s face closely in the lamplight now, the tan and smattering of freckles left behind after years out underneath the sun. He tried to see past the beard he had now, tried to see the boy he remembered, like if he couldn’t peel back the layers and find James somewhere underneath all of the Bucky, he simply just wasn’t going to believe it.

Bucky was helpless to do anything besides sit there and watch him. He saw the way that Steve’s pensive frown pulled his lips downward. Suddenly Bucky could see it clear as day. Even though the circumstances couldn’t be more different, when he looked at the thoughtful downturn of Steve’s lips, the slight pull of his brows towards each other, all he could see was the two of them sitting on the edge of the docks as teenagers, trying to figure out the intricate workings of all the knots that Steve’s father told them they needed to learn. It always took Steve a little longer to learn them, it was harder for him to pick them up and keep them committed to memory. He’d get three-fourths of the way there and then lose track, and he would make that same face that he was making now. Always trying to figure out which pieces of the puzzle he was missing.

Steve was fighting the urge to reach out and touch Bucky’s face. He hadn’t been brave enough to do it back then, and he certainly didn’t feel like he had any right to do so now. But it also felt like it wouldn’t be real until he did. Bucky’s eyes looked up at him, so earnest in comparison to how he’d looked at Steve when he’d first woken him up in his sleeping quarters. Two completely different men wrapped into one. Steve couldn’t help but wonder if either of those men still wanted anything to do with him.

The amount of time that they’d spent in silence, Steve crouched just inches from him, finally sank in. Steve cleared his throat, finally getting himself together enough to speak. “James?”

The relief that Steve felt at Bucky’s reaction was a visual, tangible thing. His shoulders went slack as he exhaled a breath he’d been holding for longer than he should’ve been. The creases across his forehead that had been born of worry instantly smoothed away. He felt himself wanting to smile but he knew that he couldn’t get too far ahead of himself now. They knew each other back then, and there was a brand of comfort in that, but they were different men now, or at least James was. He didn’t even go by the same name any longer. He didn’t know how much that history would hold, if it would be enough to save him.

Regardless of the conflicting feelings rushing through both of them, even though Bucky knew that it was too early on to have any assurance that he was actually safe, he still felt a thought, a feeling blooming at the back of his mind that was telling him that things were going to work out somehow.

He needed to come up with something more, something better to say, but with the shock that was still making its way through the marrow of his bones, all Bucky could do to answer Steve’s single-word question was repeat the same thing that he’d been saying all along. This time, he said it with a tinge of hopefulness that he hadn’t allowed himself to have in a long time. “Steve.”

Steve felt like he had just gotten punched in the chest. There was no more denying any of it. The reality of it all pushed the air clean out of his lungs. The urge to reach forward and pull Bucky into an embrace was immediately fought off by the part of his brain still steeped in reality, the part that recognized the fact that Steve had commanded to have Bucky restrained against the mast. There had to be a first step somewhere. Something between a constant repetition of names and cutting the ropes loose so that Steve could ball his fists in the fabric of Bucky’s shirt as he hugged him.

“How?” Steve finally managed to force out, the light of the lantern throwing shadows that further intensified an already heavy moment between them. “You were dead. I, I saw it…” he trailed off, emotions choking him up as he thought back to that night, to all of the nights since that it had been haunting him. “You went over the edge. Right,” Steve’s eyes darted to the railing where it’d happened, “right there. I tried to go after you but my father—”

“I know,” Bucky stopped him short. There were a million conflicting emotions on his face, behind his eyes, things that he had been shoving as far down inside his chest as possible for as long as he could remember.

That night might have been haunting Steve ever since it happened, but Bucky remembered it just as clearly—no matter how hard he tried to forget. He remembered the sting of the water, the burn of the impact of it. He remembered how with each breath he tried to take in, he also got a mouthful of seawater. But there hadn’t been any use in trying to spit it out, each sputter only allowing more water in. His body got tossed around by waves in a way that he couldn’t ever remember happening before or since. The ocean was cruel and unrelenting, and painfully egalitarian. It didn’t matter that Bucky hadn’t even truly been a man yet—the waves tossed him around like one anyway.

For as chaotic and overloading as it had all been, one other thing about that night was something that Bucky couldn’t forget about no matter how much he tried. All the sensations that popped up uninvited in his nightmares, things that yanked him from his sleep sweating and gasping for air that he no longer had to fight to get, and the one thing that made him awake with tears on his face was the sound. There had been wind, and rain, and waves, but above and through all of that he had heard the sounds of Steve’s screams. The screams, the cries. It was too dark and he was too incapacitated to see Steve trying to jump in after him, but even so he could hear the way that Steve had been screaming at his father, begging in a way that Bucky hadn’t ever heard before. At the time he thought that it was going to be the last thing he ever heard.

All the years that had gone by had Bucky certain that it was the last thing that he was ever going to hear from Steve. There had been points as time went on when he thought about heading off to find him. But when he was young he didn’t have the means. He was pulled in by a crew and he didn’t have the sway to be able to ask them to do such a thing. Why would anyone do something like that? Pirates had enough to contend with without putting themselves in situations like that. And the crew that had taken Bucky in, while they’d kept him alive and shown him the ropes, they were rough. They were brutal in ways that Bucky hadn’t known were possible outside the stories that he heard from sailors back home. He learned it all, too—how to keep himself safe no matter the cost. He tried his hardest to make sure it never came to that. But the more time that went by, the more that he learned, the more senseless it became to think about returning back home. He didn’t even know if he would be wanted there, if anyone would still remember him.

With each venture and every crime, Bucky had also become keenly aware of the fact that he was drifting farther and farther away from being James, from being the person that Steve would remember, the person that Steve would want. He didn’t know how long it took for him to stop letting that be a deterrent. At some point, the thought of seeing Steve again and still wanting to be something like the person his best friend would remember, stopped lingering at the forefront of his mind. He let go of the hope of that, let go of the last few shreds of that boyhood, the innocence that he associated with Steve for so long.

Bucky was pulled from the painful montage in his head by the grumbling of the man who was tied to the mast to the left of him. He didn’t quite catch the words themselves but he didn’t have to, the man’s frustrated tone and the way he was fighting against the binds was an abrupt reminder that Bucky had well and truly made his bed years ago. Now he had to lay in it, him and all of the men that made up his crew. After what had just happened it wasn’t going to be so simple as, “Cut us loose and we’ll just pretend this didn’t happen.” Bucky was the only one who would’ve possibly been capable of that, and even then it wasn’t a sure thing. They’d lost men to this, after all.

He studied Steve’s face for a moment, trying to figure out what the man was planning on doing next. There had been a time when he would’ve been able to tell without having to look—they knew each other that well. Bucky always knew the next three steps that Steve was going to take. It’d been too long now, though.

After another moment, Steve revealed a small knife. He leaned forward, about to make his way to cut the ropes that bound Bucky’s wrists. The child that still ran around the deepest parts of his brain couldn’t simply just let his friend sit there tied to the mast, no matter how long it’d been. It was impulsive, something that if his father, or Sam, or anyone had been there beside him, they would’ve stopped him.

As it stood, the person who tried to get him to stop was the man that he was trying to free. “Steve,” he said, voice quiet and sharp all at once, “don’t.”

He looked like a hurt puppy at the rejection. “But—”

“I stay with my crew,” he said, the sureness of his tone betrayed by the conflict in his eyes.

“James…” Steve was nearly begging, such a swift turning of the tables.

Bucky managed a shrug. “Different world now, Stevie.” He paused, waiting for his long-lost friend to say something more. When he didn’t, Bucky continued, “All of us, or none of us.”

“I can’t just—”

“Then don’t,” Bucky cut him off again. He knew that that was going to be the answer. The same way that Steve knew Bucky wasn’t going to turn his back on his crew, Bucky knew just as well that Steve wasn’t going to just cut them all loose like that.

With a sigh of disappointment, Steve looked one more time at the knife in his hand before tucking it back into its sheath. His hand stayed wrapped around the handle of it for a few moments longer anyway, like he was giving Bucky one last chance to change his mind, but he didn’t. Stubborn as he’d ever been.

“Alright then,” Steve finally said. He braced his hands on his knees so that he could get himself upright again. He hesitated to walk away, staring down at Bucky who was helpless to do anything besides stare back up at him.

Bucky sat and watched as Steve turned and walked away. There were so many things that he wanted so say, but what good would it really do him? Or any of his men, for that matter? Each one of Steve’s receding footsteps rung right through his skull even though the sound of them was softening with the distance.

“Should’ve gotten out,” the man beside him said.

Bucky turned to him. “What?”

“Should’ve gotten out. No point in all of us—”

“Like I said,” Bucky fixed him with a stare, “all of us, or none of us.”

The man let out a deep grumble of a laugh. It wasn’t loud, per se, but Bucky could see that he felt it genuinely regardless. In that moment Bucky was trying to remember just how long the man had been part of his crew. He had at least a decade on Bucky, the oldest member of their crew. He remembered him coming aboard, joining Bucky after his last crew had gotten captured. He’d lost track of how long ago that was exactly. Time tended to blur together, the number of days losing their meaning.

When the man stopped laughing, he said, “You still have that goin’ for you, then.”

Confusion drew Bucky’s brows together. “What?”

“The sea hasn’t beaten the ideals out of you yet.” He shook his head before letting it rest back against the mast once more. “Most men would’ve taken the chance to get out.” He chuckled one more time for good measure. “You probably should have.”

Something about the man’s smile got one out of Bucky as well. If he made it another ten years he wondered if he would be just as amused when faced with these types of situations. “Too late now, huh?”

The man looked over at the helm where Steve was standing, eyes never staying on one target for long. He looked at Sam, who he was talking to, around the ship and the sea surrounding it, but his gaze also kept going back to Bucky. Not any of the men beside him. Bucky might have been willfully ignoring that but his shipmate most definitely wasn’t.

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

The knowing look that was on the man’s face got a hint of a smile out of Bucky. He didn’t say anything to confirm or dispute what the man had said to him, though. He just sat and tried to think of how he was supposed to get everyone who was left out of this mess in one piece.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #stucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes x steve rogers #steve rogers x bucky barnes #connect 4 au #bucky barnes event #alternate juneiverse #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

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weird question but do you know any place i can find a summary of chapter 5? or if you have one? i dont like vil so i cant really make myself sit and read the whole chapter but i wanna move forward and read chapter 6 but ALSO feel like i should know the important plot points so im not like "wtf is going on"

I mean 🥲 I don’t like Vil either, but I’d still highly encourage you to read episode 5! Getting a summary isn’t really the same as experiencing the story for yourself; the visuals, songs, and voice acting really helps to sell the emotions and the stakes. Who knows, maybe you’ll leave episode 5 with a little more appreciation for Vil (or the other characters; they all have various cute or heroic moments)? He’ll come back to play a major role in episode 6 anyway, and his character moments won’t hit as hard if you didn’t read 5. For example, there’s a particular line of Rook’s in 5 that Vil repeats in 6 which really hammers home his character development since 5.

… Although I won’t lie, episode 5 has veeery slow pacing because it’s basically one long, dragged out training arc 😂 so I’ll summarize what happens anyway; just know that I’d still recommend actually playing through the story yourself, especially if any of these plot points seem too cool or too interesting to not witness yourself. I’ll be glossing over things that aren’t relevant to the main conflict, so 💦 please keep that in mind!

Sooo Yuu starts off Book 5: A Beautiful Tyrant by finally starting to put the pieces together; they visit the Great Seven statues and confirm their own suspicions that the figures in their dreams are the same as the people depicted in the G7 statues (though their actions are framed as more “evil” in the dreams).

Yuu tells Adeuce and Grim about Mickey! They suggest that Yuu takes a picture of Mickey with the Ghost Camera so they can use it to investigate who or what he is.

There’s a dorm leader meeting to give exposition about an upcoming event. NRC will be having a two-day cultural festival in about two months! They will put on a bunch of activities, as well as showcase their clubs and give presentations on the art and research their students have produced.

One of the biggest events is the Vocal and Dance Championship (VDC). In EN, this has been changed to Song and Dance Championship (SDC), so I will refer to it by the English name to avoid confusion. It’s basically the music industry equivalent to what the Magical Shift/Spelldrive tournament was in episode 2; it’s a golden opportunity to launch many people’s singing careers in the entertainment industry. (A lot of talent agencies will apparently clamor to sign you on for a professional debut if you’re a SDC finalist!) The favorites to win this year are Vil and Neige Leblanche (twisted from Snow White).

I won’t mention every single time this happens, but throughout the chapter Vil has these segments where he asks his phone assistant Mira (TWST Alexa or Siri, basically) who the fairest of them all is. Mira always replies with “Neige Leblanche”, which seems to greatly frustrate Vil.

Anyway, Adeuce and Grim are interested in entering SDC because if the team representing their school makes it to the finals, they’ll get a cash prize of 50,000 thaumarks (5 million madol in JP).

Ace and Grim are pumped about trying out for NRC’s team, but Deuce is hesitant and bails.

The group eats lunch and then chills in the courtyard; it’s here that they hear singing and follow the song. It was Epel who was singing down a well (a Snow White reference), because he thought the well would help project his voice more clearly.

Deuce recognizes Epel as the crying boy he ran into at the end of episode 4! Epel says he recognizes Yuu and co. from the Magical Shift/Spelldrive tournament; he also heard about them from his classmate Jack.

Epel tells them about how his dorm leader Vil wants him to practice singing and that he’ll be a part of the SDC auditions. However, it seems that Epel isn’t eager to do this (which Deuce notices).

Vil comes to check on Epel and catches him talking to Yuu and co,; he is disappointed in Epel for “slacking off” and tries to drag him off. When Epel resists, Vil reminds him of a promise they made, which makes Epel fall into line.

Ace, ever the nosy one, picks a fight with Vil (because he doesn’t think he should be bossing Epel around). Epel begs everyone to not do it, but they fight anyway and Vil is, of course, victorious.

This reinvigorates Deuce’s motivation to be in SDC; he wants to help Epel, who seemed to be so hesitant about taking part.

Adeuce and Grim practice dancing on the basketball court. Here they run into Kalim and Jamil, who are also planning on auditioning since they already enjoy singing and dancing. The Scarabia boys give some pointers on dancing to Adeuce and Grim.

Azul shows up; he needed to find Jamil (they’re classmates) because Professor Trein needed his help with handing papers out. The boys banter a bit and Azul reveals that he was bluffing in episode 4 about live streaming Jamil’s breakdown and OB to the world. Only the Scarabia dorm members are aware of the incident.

Tying up loose ends from the ending of 4!! Kalim was able to convince everyone to let Jamil stay on as vice and to give him a second chance. Jamil claims that he is behaving for now to atone what he did, though he also says he will work hard to prove his worth.

The Scarabia boys tell Adeuce to sign up for SDC auditions via a “Rook Hunt”, who is in class 3-A. They go and do this and uh (well, Leona cameo but that’s not important) 🤡 well, Rook does what he does best and spooks them.

Cut to the VDC auditions! We see other competitors, one of which is Lilia (who delivered a holiday card from “M.D.” to Yuu) and Cater! They share some tea about the mysterious Shroud brothers, who enrolled at the same time and seem to do everything together.

Cater wants to show Grim a video, but he’s forced to sit through an ad first. It’s an advertisement for an apple soda featuring Neige (who, if you’ll recall, is one of the favorites to win SDC).

We get to hear various characters (Cater, Ruggie, Kalim, Jamil, Epel, Ortho, and Lilia) sing part of TWST’s opening song, Piece of My World!

Auditions wrap up and at first Vil wants to pick only the best performers, a she believes this will give him the greatest chance of beating Neige. However, Rook stops him and suggests that he instead pick people who are rough around the edges so Vil can polish them to perfection. Rook points out that he sees a lot of potential in Adeuce in particular.

Rook shoots an arrow at Adeuce with a letter attached to it letting them know they passed auditions, so they should report to Pomefiore dorm. Yuu is also told to come along.

The gang pulls up to Pomefiore and meet Kalim and Jamil there. Turns out the Scarabia duo have also passed!

A bunch of Pomefiore students start attacking them, but they manage to battle their way to Pomefiore’s ballroom where Vil is waiting. This was all a test he arranged so they could prove their worth to him.

So the SDC team is: Vil, Rook, Epel, Jamil, Kalim, Ace, and Deuce.

There’s only a month left until SDC. Crowley wants Yuu to let the NRC team hold their training camp at Ramshackle, since he is convinced that living together will help them build teamwork. He originally thought of holding the camp at Pomefiore, but he didn’t want some students to feel out of their element. They get bribed with a cut of the prize money and the promise of Ramshackle renovations 😂 so Yuu’s like “Okay, sure. C’mon in.”

Everyone moves in, and Vil starts imposing new rules on the SDC team members. For example, he takes away their snacks (including an apple pie and chocolate cake that Trey sent with Adeuce) and says he has designed low calorie yet nutritional meals for them. (I want to be clear here: some people misinterpret this part as “Vil is starving them like Mama Rosehearts starved Riddle!” which is NOT true. Rook says that this is not a diet in that sense, but to help them be in shape. Vil wants them to eat healthily so they can perform at their best.)

Vil gets a phone call from his manager who says he has been offered a role in a biiig movie production… as the villain. The hero for this movie will be played by Neige. Upon learning this, Vil becomes irritated and insists his manager reject the offer. He doesn’t care how much money he could earn from this, he says that all he wants to do is “stand the stage until the very end”. Vil then tells his manager to not contact him again until SDC is over.

It is revealed that the voting for SDC is done via audience poll, not by professional judges. This is an important detail to keep in mind for later.

Vil shows the group an original song (Absolutely Beautiful). In EN, he says he commissioned it but in JP he is more vague with his wording, which has led some fans to conclude that Vil personally worked on producing this song. (Uhhh, they also sing Piece of My World at some point.)

He tries to show them a video to help everyone get a feel for the dance choreography, and another ad featuring Neige plays. The boys talk about how Neige is such a popular celeb these days, and how he’s a student of Royal Sword Academy so that makes him their rival. Vil says something cryptic about how he’ll finally defeat Neige this time.

Vil picks himself, Epel, and Jamil as the main vocalists. Jamil is surprised and starts to say that Kalim should be picked instead of him, but Jamil stops himself and accepts the role.

Epel says he isn’t sure about being picked, but Vil again brings up their promise which makes him comply.

They keep practicing and Epel pisses Vil off when he says the dance is too girly. Vil chews Epel out for having outdated views on gender and then places him on a solo ballet regimen. Deuce asks to join Epel for his ballet lessons!

A ghost delivers 10 crates of apple juice to Epel. This is unsold stock from his family’s business, which is struggling at the moment. They all chill and sip on the apple juice!

Vil interrupts to lecture them on skincare. Ace asks isn’t there magic to make them instantly beautiful? This seems to annoy Vil, who says that he’s not interested in “beauty that only lasts until the strike of midnight”.

Yuu wakes up in the middle of the night to find Kalim singing outside Ramshackle. He confesses that he’s frustrated about not being chosen as a main vocalist. Kalim’s so used to having everything handed to him that the experience of being overlooked surprised him. He says that he wants to try hard so that he will genuinely be picked for something because he’s actually the best choice for it.

It’s revealed that Jamil was listening in on Kalim!

Adeuce sneak bites of Trey’s apple pie and chocolate cake. Vil catches them in the act 🤡 Adeuce suddenly fall over and can’t move!! Vil tells them he put a curse on the baked goods using his unique magic/signature spell. Fairest One of All allows Vil to lay a curse for anything he touches. The conditions he sets must be fulfilled, for even the original caster cannot lift it. (Vil cursed the pie and cake so that if anyone eats it, they cannot move until morning comes.)

Yuu sees Mickey in the mirror again but fails to take a picture of him. They begin to wonder how their original world and Mickey’s may be connected.

This isn’t relevant in the story of 5, but it may be important overall lore-wise. Apparently it is possible to transfer into NRC; Kalim originally did not go to NRC but the dark carriage came for him one month after Jamil enrolled.

Epel becomes frustrated with practice and wants to quit the team. He fights with Vil and loses, prompting Epel to run off.

Deuce suggests maybe Vil be nicer, but Vil snaps that Deuce has no room to be worrying about others or taking back when he’s falling behind the rest of the team. Vil compares Deuce to Ace, saying that the difference between them is too obvious. Ace tells Deuce to focus on himself more, and Deuce gets mad because someone naturally gifted like Ace wouldn’t understand him.

The team is really fractured at this point, so Jamil suggests taking a break. During this break, Rook advises Vil that he show Epel “the power of beauty”, to which Vil agrees.

Rook and Kalim give Deuce a pep talk! It leads Deuce to nabbing a magical wheel (blastcycle?) from Ignihyde and driving himself and Epel to a local beach. (They also see RSA on the way!)

The two shout their frustrations at the sea, and Epel’s dialect comes out full force which shocks Deuce. Epel then explains how he doesn’t want people to underestimate him because of his looks. On his first day (before he was sorted into a dorm), Vil tells him to button up his shirt and comments on his cute face, which causes Epel to instigate a fight.

Vil wins and tells Epel that “the weak obey the strong”, so until Epel is able to beat him, he has to listen to everything Vil says. This explains why Epel usually hides his dialect; Vil says that he doesn’t have a problem with Epel’s love for his hometown, but that there is a time and place for the dialect and his rude attitude. In this case, he must address his superiors properly.

The two first years have a heart-to-heart! Epel talks about wanting to become stronger, and Deuce talks about how how his own strength is how amazingly stupid and stubborn he is.

Epel gets a phone call from his mom!! Their business was suddenly flooded with orders from all over the world, and she says a customer told her it was because of “Vil”, whom Mrs. Felmier recognized as Epel’s dorm leader. She asks him to thank Vil for her.

Vil made a Magicam post featuring the Felmier family apple juice! All of his fans want to try the same juice, so they’re buying it en masse. This is the “power of beauty” Vil wanted to show him, that being beautiful and being strong can be powerful in their own rights, and that until Epel understands that, he can never defeat Vil.

They’re interrupted by some random NPCs that want to ride on Deuce’s (borrowed) ride. The NPCs get aggressive, but Epel is able to catch them off-guard with his cutesy looks. This lets Epel get some hits in!

The NPCs are beating them 😔 but suddenly…?! Deuce’s magical power overflows…!!

We cut to a later point that day when Epel and Deuce return, apologize to Vil, and rejoin the SDC group. Deuce confronts Ace and swears to him that he doesn’t plan on losing to him!

Crowley gives everyone in the team tickets for them to invite people to see the show. Yuu gives their ticket to Malleus.

The cultural festival has arrived at last! Yuu spends some time looking around at the attractions with Grim. We get a bunch of cameos from other characters.

While looking through some of the exhibitions, they see some NRC mob students bullying some short RSA students. The NRC boys intervene, and then Chenya comes to pick up the short kids (which are twisted versions of the Seven Dwarves).

Yuu and co. go to the SDC location (the Purple Stage) for rehearsals. Surprise?! Neige appears!! Vil is curt but professional with him.

NRC does their practice run and, for a brief moment, Vil is considered “most beautiful” (he checks with Mira). Buuut then Neige and the dwarves do their practice run (EN removed the song Minna de Yahoo), and Neige is on top again 😭 (Their performance isn’t even that well-executed, they’re very clumsy and everything. The song also isn’t very unique; it’s an arrangement of a popular children’s song from the Shaftlands. However, it still makes the filming staff feel nostalgic and they gush about how cute Neige is and how pure he makes them feel.)

Vil gets a scary look on his face and leaves; Rook, Kalim, and Jamil notice the look he made 👁️ 👄 👁️ Errr, Vil shatters his phone (“mirror”) in a fit of rage.

Yuu follows Vil backstage because they have a bad feeling. They see Vil offering apple juice from Epel’s family to Neige.

Neige is about to drink it until Rook intervenes and tells him (his “Snow White”) to hurry away because the staff need him. Rook takes the juice for himself and tries to drink it, but then Kalim cuts in and knocks the glass out of his hand.

It starts bubbling on the ground 💀 Vil cursed the apple juice! Kalim says he recognized the face Vil was making; it’s just like Jamil before he went mad over winter break.

Rook says he wanted to drink the juice even knowing it would harm him because he wants to believe that Vil wouldn’t tarnish his beauty and hard work by stooping so low.

The spilled juice vaporizes into a toxic mist, and Vil begins to Overblot 😔 He is different than the previous Overblots in that he is somewhat self-aware of what is happening to him (he shouts at everyone to not look at him, at his “ugliness”; the ugliness here is not literal, Vil is most likely referring to his “ugly” actions (ie the attempt to poison Neige, perhaps even kill him).

Jamil comes on the magic carpet to whisk everyone somewhere safe! He lets them know he used Snake Whisper to get Neige to put on a performance. This performance lured people away to watch him (plus, the first years went around getting rid of loiterers), so the SDC stadium is empty except for OB Vil, Grim, Yuu, and the NRC SDC group.

Deuce saves the day by directing the damage he has taken so far back at Vil…! This is the unique magic/signature spell he unlocked on the beach, Bet the Limit (Double Down in EN).

In the post-OB flashback sequence, we learn that Vil’s dad was a famous actor as well! It seems that Vil has consistently been casted as the villain ever since he started his own acting career. He resents this, because according to him, “a villain never stands on the stage until the very end, they can only watch the happy ending from the sidelines”.

Vil was also bullied in the past, although it is a different kind of bullying than Azul suffered. Other kids assumed he was as cold and cruel as the villains he portrayed in films, dramas, and musicals. (We see young Jack defending Vil!) He worked very hard in hopes of landing a hero role—but he was still never chosen.

Vil wakes up and finds himself upon a ruined Purple Stage. SDC can’t happen like this…

Malleus shows up with his ticket and uses his magic to repair the stage—he came to see their performance, after all. (It is also here when Yuu finally learns who “Tsunotaro/Hornton” truly is.)

SDC happens!! More cameos from characters in the audience as they vote.

RSA wins by one vote. That deciding vote was… Rook! Now, he gets a lot of hate for this move, but 🥲 he explains that he couldn’t lie to himself; he was genuinely moved more by Neige than his own group’s performance. Additionally, he says that even if they technically didn’t win a competition or get the most votes, so long as Vil has the strength to believe in himself… then no matter how old or disheveled Vil is, he will always be fairest of them all.

Vil collapses and cries…

Neige comes over and??? Turns out that Rook is a HUGE Neige fan 😂 (When first moving into Ramshackle, Vil remarks on a thick book Rook brought with him. They never looked at what was inside, but it was a bunch of Neige bromides.) Neige says he recognized Rook as his fan (“R”) because Rook called him “Snow White”.

Aaand Neige says everyone should sing together :)) (Again, this was removed from EN.) Vil suffers a lot :)))

Crowley is mulling over another loss to RSA and encounters its headmaster, Ambrose the 63rd (twisted from… Merlin???). Ambrose remarks that he senses strong magic in the area (probably residual from either Malleus or OB Vil) and that he’ll have to keep an eye on Crowley’s students.

Yuu finally grabs a picture of Mickey, but then notices Grim is missing so they leave to find him.

They see Grim on the Purple Stage eating Vil’s OB stone. When Grim notices Yuu there, he attacks them.

We finish off on a preview to Ignihyde. Idia gave a presentation at the cultural festival that made a lot of people interested in having him as an intern. Ortho offers to read the email opportunities to him, but in a resigned tone, Idia says to delete them all because he thinks he “doesn’t belong anywhere” so it’s not worth trying to.

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athenamgh · 9 months

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Ma'am

a/n: Myanna, Myanna, Myanna... paring/s: Myanna Buring x fem!bodyguard!Reader summary: reader is the bodyguard for one and only Myanna Buring.. that's.. that's all I can say... oh and Tony totally made up persona warning/s: sexual tension, a cute moment too I guess, and slight mention of the accident word count: 2.3k

Myanna Buring MASTERLIST

Myanna and Tony sat in one of the dressing rooms, three floors below the penthouse where in around 30 minutes, the actress was supposed to appear as an honored guest.

"Do we still have to do this?" she asked out of the blue.

"Do what?" Tony said looking up from his papers.

She gestured to the super-secured room around her. "So keep you safe, you mean?" he re-asked.

"No, take such huge security precautions. I am not royalty, you know..." hints of frustration could be heard in her voice.

Tony sighed looking back at his papers, they had this conversation way too many times over the last month, "At this point, it'd be safer if you were...". He didn't even need to look up from the contract, that he was reading, to know that she rolled her eyes at his answer.

"Do not give me this attitude. Did you forget what happened three months ago, or your memory needs refreshing?" From the pile of papers laying in his lap, he took out a printed news article with a big red title on the front and placed it on the table. "You almost died that night, all of you in that damn building almost did."

He noticed as Myanna shook her shoulder uncomfortably as the flashbacks of that night crossed her mind. "Besides, you are not the only one with such security, all of your costars are," Tony pointed out.

"Yeah, but barely any of them, have an ex-navy bodyguard sweeping every room they enter, do they?" Myanna gave him a look.

"They should..." he said under his breath, but she heard it, she always hears it.

"Ahh..." she groaned, turning back to look through the window that was overlooking the city drowning in the moonlight.

"Listen, as your agent, it is my duty to protect you. After all, three months already passed, didn't you get used to the "black cat" following you around? Don't you like them? They seem qualified and actually quite nice. Is something wrong? Do I need to change-" before Tony could even finish his list of questions, she suspiciously cut him off.

"No, it's not that. I just wish things could go back to normal," Myanna sadly sighed looking back at him.

"It will, you just have to wait it out," he could only imagine what it was like for her after that eventful night.

Suddenly rhythmical but too difficult-to-be random knocks on the door echoed in the room.

Tony laughed lightly, "Speak of the devil,"

"And she will appear... Yes?" She said turning back to the mirror to continue her paused activity.

As you heard confirmation you entered the room closing the doors behind you, "The perimeter is clear," you reported looking at Myanna's reflection in the mirror, she avoided your gaze. But as your lips slipped the additional word, "Ma'am", her eyes narrowed at you in the reflective glass and her jaw clenched.

"Thank you, Y/n," Tony said standing up.

"Of course, sir," you broke the eye contact bringing your attention to the man in a suit.

"Okay, I'd better be going and leave you to your last 30 minutes of 'me time'. See you in there," he addressed Myanna.

"Do not flirt too much," she teased.

"Ohh, please there can be some attractive lawyers... Also, you are the one to talk to," Tony pointed out.

He approached you, standing next to the doors, and whispered, "Do not let this flirt slip your eyes and keep her safe."

"Never do and always do sir," you answered his two statements.

He laughed, "I know that's why I like you''.

You opened the doors for him to leave. You were about to follow his lead, leaving her with the last moments of peace before the event. It was like a routine for her. You had a gut feeling that this habit developed after the accident.

But before you could take a step into the corridor you heard her voice. "Wait," she said still looking at the mirror adding the last touches to her make-up.

"Is something wrong, ma'am?" you wondered.

You saw how her jaw clenched a little once again as her eyes shut closed, "Yes, we need to go over some ground rules. Again."

You narrowed your eyebrows but closed the doors behind you, ready to hear her out.

She finally stood up from the table, and for the first time tonight, you saw Myanna in all her glory. You couldn't help but glue your eyes to her presence: her long dress that contrasted with her hair enchantingly, her eyes that you couldn't decide the colour of because they seemed to change every time you got lost in them, stuck between the green and the blue, and her lips, oh those devilishly tempting soft lips.

She looked stunning and the worst part of it was that you let yourself admire her for far too long, knowing well enough that your staring will get you in trouble.

Suddenly two of your eyes connected and you quickly turned your attention to the wall, pretending like it was the most interesting thing in this entire world. In hopes that she would just brush it off, but from the corner of your eye, you could see that she was smirking at your behaviour. You got caught.

Myanna approached and you felt how her perfume invaded your space. It took everything in you to keep staring straight into the empty wall, standing there as still as a rock with hands behind your back, face emotionless.

But not the eyes, no your eyes could never lie or hide what you were really feeling as much as you wished they would. Not even years spent in the Navy could teach you that.

She seemed to know it as she whispered to you, "Look at me".

You took a deep breath clenching your jaw. You knew better than to obey what she asked for. But her standing so close to you was nearly impossible to resist.

Myanna didn't seem to have much patience tonight to see you fight yourself in your own head as she wrapped her fingers around your black tie and tugged you gently down making you slowly lower your gaze to meet her, tonight, watercolour eyes.

"You are truly irresistible in this suit, Y/n" she said dropping her eyes down for a moment to finally really take in the sight of you, but not letting the grip on you ease up.

You stayed silent, trying to concentrate on staying neutral, and professional, like you were taught to be. But your eyes betrayed you staying glued to her presence.

That was a mistake because then her gaze flickered back to your face, you saw her lips spread a mischievous smile and all you could do was drily gulp.

"What did I tell you about calling me 'ma'am', hmm?" Myanna innocently asked tugging you down even closer to her face, trying to even out the difference between your heights.

Another wave of her delightful perfume hit your nose and your lips were now inches apart. "Sorry ma'am," was all you said.

Myanna chucked at your answer, "No, no, no..." she shook her head disapprovingly. You saw how her eyes glinted devilishly before she ghostingly dragged her soft lips through the length of your jaw.

"Say it," her words sank into the whisper against your ear, still holding you by the tie. Her other hand slipped up your shoulder and wrapped around your neck, nails lightly digging into your skin as she seductively demanded, "Say it like I know You like it," the hot air hitting your skin made you shiver.

To your surprise, she leaned back just enough to look you in the eyes and whisper once again, "Like you know I like it," Myanna's lips spread the most irresistible smile and with that, your heart skipped a beat.

You closed your eyes, clenching your jaw, trying to control your heartbeat, the buzzing in your ears and the fog that was clouding your judgment, but all she had to do was mutter, "Do it for me, please" and your defence broke.

From the way her lips parted, when you finally opened your eyes, and her hand tensed around your neck, you could tell that your look was dark and filled with desire. The desire for her and only her.

"Myanna.." your lips slowly parted, as your gaze dropped down reminding her about the device attached to your shirt's collar that was restricting you from what she really wanted you to say.

This listening device was constructed to record all-day conversations and surrounding sounds wherever the security agent went with his client to uncertain, unpredictable places such as events, places surrounded by crowds and etc. Its recordings were stored for around 30 days, breathly reviewed every week or so to make sure nobody interfered with sensitive information or raised any suspicions about possible danger to the client or the agent.

Since Tony had some great connections and was able to pull some strings, he got the security company to agree to record only the bodyguard's voice, movements and radio conversations in order to save his client's privacy as much as possible.

It wasn't exactly the safest opinion on security matters so in order to fill this gap they assigned their top security agent to Tony's client. They hired you.

A mischievous smile spread Myanna's lips as she covered the device with her palm, hiding it in her grip, which dulled the sensitivity of the microphone enough for your movements and voice to not be picked up.

"It's been too long since I heard you say my name too," was all she said and with that, the hand secured on your neck dug into your hair and she pulled you into a longing kiss.

Your interlocked hands broke free from behind your back due the mere sensation of her soft lips against yours. She tasted what you thought heaven would taste like. The pressure against the back of your scalp and her intoxicating scent numbed your thoughts and knees and made the desire to have her in your arms win. So you wrapped your arms around her waist pulling her as close as possible to you.

Myanna smiled against your lips at your final involvement. She gently bit your bottom lip just to let it go as she pulled away. Releasing her grip on you and the microphone she reached around her torso to unshackle your strong arms from behind her back. But you resisted to budge, she looked up at you giving you a soft look, "I am sorry, love, but we cannot have this dress wrinkled if we do not want suspicion to arise," you groaned not wanting to let her go.

She was right it was too long, you missed her terribly.

To your own disappointment, you obeyed releasing your grip on her. But not before stealing one more kiss from that absolutely stunning woman in your arms making her chuckle and enchantingly smile at your act. As you were about to bring your hands back to were they supposed to be, she stopped you by catching them by the wrists.

"Your leaving was sudden, too sudden for my likening," she said interlocking your fingers together.

You smiled, enjoying the warmth of her touch. Taking a second to think what to say as the listening device was no longer covered, ''Had a family emergency." Her eyebrows narrowed worryingly at you, "It was resolved," you assured her as you set free one of your arms and brushed the back of your hand against her soft cheek for a moment, "But I personally assigned agent Hale to your house security, you were left in great hands while I was gone," you reported the reason for your five-day absence.

"Hmm yes, but it wasn't you... and I missed you," she gave you a longing look. You squeezed her hand confirming that you felt the exact same way.

"I am here now, ma'am," you said the last word on purpose this time making your lips slip a smirk.

You saw how Myanna's gaze darkened, she bit her lip seductively at you, making your heartbeat quicken. You remembered this devilish look of hers and the thoughts that probably were running in her head right now.

"I wanted to have you all to myself all day today," she stated looking deep into your eyes, "And after this event, I'll get you to go back to my place," she gripped your chin making sure she had you exactly where and how she wanted, "And remind you what happens when you neglect our ground rules," she said the last word brushing your lips with her own perfectly knowing that you couldn't kiss her without risking it possibly leaking into the recording.

Myanna took a couple of steps back from you, smoothing her dress with her palms, making sure she looked presentable. You thought she looked flawless and intact as you just stared at her trying to get your cloudy mind to work again.

You finally cleared your throat, "Ready?" you stretched your arm for her to take, to safely, maybe too securely, escort her to the penthouse.

She took your hand happily looking up at you, "Wait," she reached with her free hand brushing her thumb through your bottom lip cleaning off the traces of her lipstick. "Am I decent?" she asked referring to the possible smudged lipstick on her.

"You look perfect, Myanna Buring," you assured her making her slightly blush which swirled your heart with warmth in a way it shouldn't have.

"Then I am ready," she said and both of you stepped out of the hotel room.

#myanna x reader #myanna buring x reader #myanna buring imagine #myannaburingedit #myanna #reader #y/n #story #imagine #fics #myanna buring #fic #pov #fem reader #female reader #myanna x y/n #myanna buring x y/n #bodyguard

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iriel3000 · 1 year

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Still Think You Are the Only Monster?: Age of Ultron - the farmhouse

Summary: Clint interrupts ‘that’ moment between Natasha and Bruce IN HIS DAUGHTER’S BEDROOM (seriously, so out of character for Nat). Banner witnesses them talk about it later.

Part 2 of the I Adore You but Need the Other Guy series, a Clintasha heavy yet MCU Age of Ultron compliant story.

Not necessary to read part 1, but why not?

And what was with that look Bruce gave Nat in the kitchen? As if she was expected to tell Clint’s secrets? Um, no.

excerpt:

Bruce turned up the shower temperature just shy of scalding, exhaling with a groan, the day’s events playing a continuous reel in his mind; the Hulk riled up by Ultron’s sorceress, so powerful even Thor was affected, half a city destroyed and god knows how many people hurt, and for the first time ever, the Avengers had to run and hide.

To Clint Barton’s farm…with his family.

His wife and kids.

Clint's reveal was a complete shock to everyone. Bruce threw a questioning look at Nat in the kitchen but she turned away.

Strange how she avoided his gaze. As Clint’s best friend, everyone expected her to know. No need for her to feel guilty for keeping Clint’s secrets.

Toweling off, he opened the little bathroom door to the bedroom. The day of surprises was not over.

“I almost joined you but it didn’t seem the right time.” Her sensual voice stirred things deep inside.

Bruce swallowed. Natasha sat on Lila’s bed in one of Laura’s robes, looking like she belonged here.

“I used up all of the hot water.” He stuttered.

“Should’ve joined you.”

Banner’s mouth fell open. This would have been a fantasy if they weren’t in Barton’s house right now, in his daughter’s room.

“The world saw the real Hulk, you know I have to leave.”

“And you assume I have to stay?”

Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

Natasha stood and crossed the room.

“What are you doing?” He asked when she pressed herself against him. He wanted her but this wasn’t right, not now.

“I’m running with it. With you. If that is the plan, as far as you want.”

“Are you out of your mind? Nat, where can I go that I’m not a threat?” He stepped out of her embrace.

“You’re not a threat to me.” She was one of the few that could calm the Hulk.

“I can’t do this." He gestured around Lila's room. "I can’t have kids.”

“Neither can I.” She explained the sterilization ceremony. “Still think you are the only monster on the team?”

“So, we disappear?”

He had done it before but it was miserable. If she was serious…

Bruce closed the distance, gently drawing her to him.

A short knock startled them. The door opened.

"Hey, Banner, I thought you might need…" Clint walked in with an armful of clothes.

His easy going smile vanished. Natasha froze.

“Sorry," Barton hissed through clenched teeth, “didn’t mean to interrupt. Here."

tbc, please click link below

thank you for reading!

Still Think You Are the Only Monster?

#iriel3000fics #hawkeye #black widow #clint barton #natasha romanov #strike team delta #clintasha #clintasha fanfiction #ao3 fanfic

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conejitoloca · 2 years

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When the World Fell

Pairing: None *yet*

Summary: Walking Dead alternate universe story as told through the eyes of Rick Grimes daughter. Story begins at the beginning of the outbreak via 'flashback' sequences and returns to present day. The general timeline remains in sequence by timing of events and/or ages of characters have been tweaked slightly.

Warnings: Slight mentions of blood and injuries.

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic and any feedback is appreciated. Let me know if I should continue onward.

Day 1,095 It is difficult to remember a time before. Before the dead came back to life. Before mankind turned on one another. Before the world fell. Where were you when the outbreak began? I was barely eleven when the dead began to rise. Fear and chaos became the new normal as we battled the dead and began turning into a shell of what humanity once was.

Sitting in the third row of Mrs. Fords fifth grade class focused on your math test. The sudden pounding on the door jarring everybody's focus as your uncle, deputy Shane Walsh, stood impatiently on the other side. The moment Mrs. Ford had reached the door Shane was stepping half inside waving for me to hurry along and follow him. "Come on y/n, we have to get going." he coaxed leaving you staring a moment confused. Immediately your thoughts went to your father who had been in the hospital for weeks now healing from a gunshot wound. Had something happened? "Carl, which class is Carl in?" he questioned grabbing onto your arm hastily tugging you through the halls not even giving you time to gather your belongings. He gives you a slight shake and repeats his question "Which class?" You stare up at him, your mouth opening to speak though words don't come out in all your confusion and worry. Your hard coming up as you point to the door just around the corner. Shane walking and pounding on the door the same way he had just a few moments earlier, this time dragging your brother out of his class. Now with you both by the arm he all but yanks you out of the school shoving him toward his squad car. "What's going on?" Carl asks the question you've been too afraid to causing Shane to pause for only a moment before yanking the driver side door open. "Can't explain now. It's not safe, just get in. Gotta get your mother." he explains without really explaining anything, but you get into the car all the same.

The bitter cold of each raindrop stung as it hit your skin forcing you awake. You should have welcomed the feeling, the cool chill that reminded you that you were in fact alive. It was a chill that also reminded you that you were alone. It had been weeks now since you had been separated from the group. When the governor showed back up at the prison with his new army it was an all out war.

Hershel - you shudder at the thought of what had happened to him. He was a good man and didn't deserve what had happened to him, none of you did.

Taking in a deep breath you turned your head upward toward the sky, no sign of a clear sky in sight. You'd have to find a better shelter than this mess you'd attempted to make out of branches and twigs you'd found. You could only imagine how disappointed Daryl would be to see this, he'd taught you better.

Dragging yourself to your feet you let out a sign tugging your hood up over your head in an attempt to keep yourself dry although that ship had already sailed. Your stomach growled with hunger having been days since you'd last eaten anything. You'd been doing your best to forage for food although there wasn't much to be found. Ignoring the feeling you pushed forward, eyes scanning for any signs of tracks: walker or human. Your mind went to the group. You'd lost so many already it should have come as second nature and still your heart ached for them. You didn't know who had managed to escape the prison but prayed that your father and Carl made it out and Judith - oh Judith, please have gotten out. Please somebody have gotten her out! Your eyes welled up now with tears thinking of your family and all the others. Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, Beth - Would you ever see any of them again? You'd lost so many already you couldn't bare the thought of losing the rest of them although with each passing day you feared more and more you already had. How the hell were you going to make it in this world alone? You brought your hand up to wipe your tears. Suck it up, you can't break down now. Survive. You have to survive. You didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself. You couldn't afford to break down now. You'd been living in this world long enough now to know when you let your guard down you got yourself killed. Your feet ached as you walked. The sound of the rain falling on the ground around you making it more difficult to listen for walkers. Digging into the pocket if your hoodie you wrapped your fingers around the handle of the hunting knife that Daryl had given to you. in order to protect yourself. You had to be prepared. You had to stay safe. You had to stay alive if you were going to see an of them again.

It came out of nowhere, flanking you on your left and catching you by surprise. Familiar gargling sounds escaping the figure as it lunged at you, it's teeth snapping and chattering. You turned trying to dodge but it made contact knocking you to the ground, hard. Clawing at you as it began to climb over your frame, hand gripped tightly on the knife you swung with every ounce of strength and energy as you pulled your body away from it.

Blood that was so dark it was almost black dripped from the wound down the front of your hoodie. The smell enough to make you gag. Even after all this time it wasnt something you could ever really grow used to. Now forcing yourself to your kneeds you yanked your knife from it's skull and dove it into it's chest cutting it open.

In that moment you were almost thankful youy have nothing in your stomach that you were able to throw up although it didnt stop you from dry heaving. Wiping the blade off in the grass you shethed it and put it back into your pocket before shoving your hands into the abdomen of the the walker digging out it's intestings and rubbing them on yourself.

You'd been told the only real way to hide from a walker was to smell like one, something you were thankful you never had to experience until now. You couldn't rely on the group to find you, you couldn't rely on dumb luck, you had to put everything you had learned to use. If you were going to survive you had to be smart.

You couldn't be certain how far from the prison you'd gotten. You'd ran for what felt like days before you stopped to catch your breath hoping that you'd stumble upon one of your group. As days passed without any signs of them you slowly began to lose that hope and backtracked wandering in what felt like circles.

With how dark the sky had been due to the storm you weren't certain when the sun had begun to set up it was barely over the horizon now. You needed to find shelter, somewhere warm or at the very least somewhere you could get dry although you didn't dare light a fire at night. It wasn't safe. Not alone.

With one foot in front of the other you began to walk keeping your ears open and eyes searching for any signs of life. You couldn't be alone out here and if you kept searching you were bound to find somebody. Eventually.

#the walking dead #rick grimes #daryl dixon #maggie rhee #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #twd fanfiction #twd #glenn rhee #amc the walking dead #carl grimes #shane walsh #lori grimes #rick grimes fanfiction

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guanana · 2 years

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can you keep a secret? ♡ njm x reader (18+)

genre: pwp smut, student president/maid!reader x jaemin, f x m, college au, minimal amounts of fluff and angst

word count: 12.3k+

inspired by anime/manga kaichou wa maid-sama, mangaka: hiro fujiwara

summary: after an unresolved conflict with photography club president na jaemin leaves him feeling sour, he's more than elated to find you head to toe in a skimpy maid dress at a cafe in the next town over.

fearing that your reputation as student body president is about to crumble right in front of you, jaemin assures you that he is more than willing to keep a secret.

but at what cost?

[This fanfic contains certain elements that some may be uncomfortable with. Please read at your own discretion with your safety in mind, warnings found below.]

smut warnings: penetrative sex, blackmail, humiliation, degradation, crying, oral (f&m receiving), cum eating, voyeurism, minor ass play, use of toys, maid roleplay, 'sir' kink, squirting

other warnings: characters written often display very toxic & manipulative behaviors. if this is something you are uncomfortable with, please refrain from reading. jaemin is VERY hot & cold in this one

author's note: hi friends! this is my first work that i've ever seen all the way through so i consider this a small yet dear victory.

for those who give this behemoth a chance, many thanks to you <3

pleek be nice <3

────── 〔✿〕──────

Blue light burns into your sockets as you click and drag meaningless numbers across the countless excel sheets in front of you. Crunching numbers in order to meet the strict deadlines that had been set.

You groan in agony, rubbing the prominent bags under your eyes. One would imagine that the president of the student government for one of the most highly esteemed universities would be doing some actual good for the campus– not clerical work from your asshole of a dean.

Alas here you were, doing god knows what for some sponsored event that you could care less about. Alone in a dimmed out classroom with only the company of your laptop, you ponder exactly why you put yourself through this trouble instead of experiencing actual campus life like everyone else.

“Because you’re fucking poor,” You grumble, feeling only mildly worried at the fact you’ve reached the point of solitude to where you’re now talking to yourself.

Your mini existential crisis is interrupted by a knock at the frame of the classroom. You find Xiaojun, your vice president, coming in with two cups of coffee. “Still working?” He asks, meeting you at your desk to hand you your drink.

You nod in appreciation, thanking him as the warmth of the cup eases your aching hands. “Nakamoto’s got me up to the neck with this shit. Bastard is making me do a presentation in front of all of the club advisors and officials. Something about new policies or whatever,” You frown.

Dragging a seat from one of the desks, he sits next to you before taking your laptop. The blue haired male clicks and taps on the keyboard with precision. “What are you doing?” You question, craning your head to look at the screen.

“Sending these files to myself. I’ll take care of the rest of these” He responds casually. Before you could attempt to protest, he’s holding a hand out to your face to keep you from speaking further. “Don’t even bother, I’m not letting you do all of this by yourself.”

“You’re the best,” You smile at Xiaojun softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. Your position has often left you with little to no time for yourself, and Xiaojun is no stranger to that burden either. However he’s always made it a point to lighten your load, understanding your financial situation. “Coffee’s on me next time,” You tell him before taking an enthusiastic sip.

Xiaojun only chuckles in response, returning your laptop before gently removing your head from his shoulder. “Don’t be so happy. It’s only because somebody wants to meet with you.”

“Who?” You ask, not recalling any meetings scheduled for today.

He’s about to speak before he’s easily interrupted.

“That’d be me,” A deep, almost playful voice cuts through the desolate classroom. A tousled head of hair peers through the door. Your jaw goes slack at the male that strolls in, hands in his pockets with a quirk to his lip. “Hope I’m not coming in at a bad time?”

You’re at a loss for words. Side eyeing Xiaojun who pays no mind to your sudden silence. “Ah, Jaemin. Not at all, I was just about to head out actually,” He responds to the other male.

Na Jaemin, president of the photography club. Well loved and respected for his charisma. Leadership came to him almost too casually, people attracted to him naturally through his gentle aura.

An aura that he saves for all but you at least. You gulp as a chill goes down your spine. What could he possibly want with you?

The vice president begins to take his leave, and you resist the urge to grab at his sleeve to make him stay. The two males exchange a quick shake and a pat on the shoulder before Xiaojun waves you both off, leaving your field of vision.

Suddenly the room just got a lot colder. The same friendly smile that adorned Jaemin’s face was still present, but the ice cold demeanor certainly indicated otherwise.

Being in his presence was jarring after almost a year of not speaking. Once glued to the hip at every waking moment now turned into a land mine of unanswered questions.

Communication is a two way street, but undoubtedly it was you who prioritized your academia over an unrequited love that was destined to fail.

Not that he’d ever know about any of that. To him you were just the bitch that ghosted him without a word. Ruining one of his most valued friendships.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to ask me how I’ve been doing,” You feign indifference, trying your best to keep a poker face.

Jaemin quirks an eyebrow in response, smirk evident at your skepticism. “Ever the genius, Pres,” He quips before plopping into the seat in front of you. Rummaging through his backpack he pulls out a piece of crumpled paper– quite unlike Jaemin who usually kept everything neat and tidy.

Worry brews in you when he flings the paper haphazardly onto the table.

“You wanna tell me why this month’s budget has been cut by more than half?” Jaemin slides the invoice in your direction, tonguing his cheek as he awaits your answer. Gone was the friendly facade, replaced with a sharp tone demanding an explanation. He lays slack against the chair while his legs are spread as if to intimidate you.

You freeze in your seat at the sum of money that had gone from four figures to that of a measly amount. The pathetic budget could barely even pay for their club’s basic necessities.

Rubbing your temples could barely ease the stress that has overtaken you. Dean Nakamoto had up and gone making erratic decisions without consulting you again.

Mentioning in passing that he plans to expedite finances towards those in athletics, you hadn't anticipated him taking action so soon. You knew the man had always favored the sports department and you knew even better that the photography club pulled in less than a fraction of what the other makes for the campus– but that didn’t excuse the erasure of the arts.

But everyone and their mothers knew better than to think your opinion meant jack shit to Nakamoto. Even more unfortunate is that you'd gained the title of ‘the Dean’s Pet,’ for good reason. Constantly kissing ass in order to stay on his nice list.

You release a heavy sigh, shoulders dropping exaggeratedly in hopes it would relieve some of the tension in your body. Here you go, having to clean up Nakamoto’s messes and bear the brunt of the burden again.

Jaemin raises a bored eyebrow at you, index finger tapping slowly against your desk. Threatening glare indicating that the only thing he’s even remotely interested in is the bullshit excuse you have to pull out of your ass.

“The student committee had decided that the art departments were simply not pulling in as much revenue as the sports department,” You start. It was better to tell at least half of the truth, knowing better than to lie to Na Jaemin of all people.

Pulling up an excel sheet with all the necessary information on your laptop, you turn it in his direction to show him the statistics. You don’t miss the way he sucks his cheek in, gnawing at it as he looks at you with a look devoid of any patience.

“So because a few meatheads throw a ball around and garner a little bit of attention; that warrants my team’s budget getting wiped out?” Jaemin scoffs incredulously, tilting his head at you as if you're too dumb to understand the concept. “Who do you think captures those moments anyways, hm?”

He’s right, and he knows that you know he’s right. All who know you for your ability to stay calm under pressure have never seen you when you’re up against Na Jaemin. Fumbling between words pathetically as you try to formulate a somewhat thoughtful sentence.

“I…” You play with the thread that’s coming undone on your sleeve. Fixated at the chipped nail polish on your thumb, avoiding any eye contact as much as possible.

You wish you could rat out the Dean, hating that you have always been the receiving end of those who despise him and what he’s done to this university. The bastard’s signature is the one that sits prettily at the bottom of your scholarship checks however. Even worse he’s the one who’s granted you subsidized housing. The man has cornered you into a position where you could never cross him.

“You know this is wrong, Pres,” Jaemin pressed. “You can’t just diminish all of our hard work just so those dipshit jocks can get a new locker room for their little circle jerks. Fuck, you prefer the culture of the arts anyway.”

Feeling small under his cynical stare you mumble feebly: “I really am sorry, but it’s out of my hands at this point.” Distracting yourself by twiddling your fingers.

The male chuckles dryly. “Miss President can do anything and everything except something for herself,” He mumbles under his breath so quietly you miss it.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, not missing the malice that his tone was practically dripping in.

“Don’t worry about it,” He tuts. Slapping the invoice on your desk, causing you to jump before he drags it back in his direction before shoving it carelessly in his backpack. “There’s really nothing you can do for me, huh?”

You shake your head pitifully, sympathy for your old friend obvious when you meet his eyes. Too bad you’re met with someone who’s nothing but disappointed in you. No longer the naive companions that you were before you had joined your respective departments and fell into the politics of the university’s conflicts.

The shame has you averting his gaze in embarrassment.

Jaemin tuts before shaking his head at you. “Then that’s that I guess,” He gets up and slings his bag over his shoulder. Giving you one last glance before taking his leave.

You hate the way he looks at you with disgust, knowing that you could easily fix your friendship if you could just tell him that you weren’t the one behind this transgression. You’ve worked your way up with your own blood, sweat, and tears. Sacrificing the things you adored the most to not cause any distractions.

But it’s awfully lonely at the top.

“Sucks that you’re just a little bitch for the dean now. Hope it’s worth losing your pride over, pup,” He pops the last word obnoxiously before walking off, leaving just as quickly as he entered.

You fall slack into your chair before heaving a sigh. Wiping your face in exhaustion at Jaemin's cruel words.

No matter, you try to convince yourself. Grabbing your own bag you head out the door with your eyes glued to the floor. The time on your phone is practically screaming at you to haul your ass to work before the next bus arrives. Grumbling irritably as you drag yourself across campus.

——

"So you're saying that you and your boss haven't fucked," Your coworker inquires while pinning her hair back with her headband.

You click your tongue at her before replying. "No, and he's not my boss– he's the school's dean. Even though he might as well be. Asshole is constantly setting me up to be the complaint department for his shit ideas."

Walking closer to your coworker's spot at the vanity you turn your back to her. Wordlessly asking for her to zip your dress up, in which she obliges. "And now your ex boyfriend hates you because you're too much of a pussy to tell him it was the dean who took his club's money?"

"Not my boyfriend. Just an old friend," You sigh, ruffling the frills of your skirt into place. Taking a good look at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the fabric at your breasts to make sure your girls are set in place.

The other girl whistles at your choice of dress today, a tad shorter than usual paired with the sheer thigh highs with the cutest little bows. "You should just fuck the dean guy and change his mind then. I'm sure he'd love to have a piece of this," She chuckles before pinching at your thigh.

"Oh god, gross," You grimace. Thinking about the dragon that's Yuta Nakamoto who has quickly become the bane of your existence. "He's old anyways."

"Just a suggestion. Would make your problems with your friend go away and you could get some dick in the process— I know you've been a little deprived lately," She teases you, fingers eagerly pinching at your exposed skin, too cute to resist.

"Stooooop," You whine, pushing at her grabby hands before retreating. "I'm gonna head out now, okay? I'll see you out there."

She nods before returning to her own devices. Leaving the dressing room you push through the curtains to enter the main floor.

You're immediately greeted by a regular, waving you over with eagerness. "There she is! If I knew you were working today I would have requested you instead," He gives a jolly laugh.

"Sorry about that, Master. Wait for me next time though, yeah?" You poke fun at the older man who is definitely too old to be giving you a childish pout.

Student body president by day, maid hostess by night. A job that didn't interfere too much with your school schedule but still paid an ample enough amount with amazing tips.

Your senior had referred you after she graduated and left the city, leaving you to carry on her legacy and climb the ranks as one of the most loved and popular maids of the cafe. Serving with smiles that could rival the sun and charisma that is a complete contrast to the sleep deprived president at school.

No one would have ever considered you an entertainer, but your regular customers would beg to differ as you keep them good company and take care of them. A job that fulfills your need for praise without any boundaries being crossed.

You could never say that you hated your job— it was a great escape from the crushing reality of constantly being glued to a desk in front of a computer.

For the betterment of your image, you've taken great care to make sure no one campus knows you work here. Swearing your senior into secrecy despite your gratitude. You knew how people could be.

Greeting customers and exchanging quick conversations with your coworkers you make your way to the hostess desk, awaiting your next customer.

The day was slow enough where you could busy yourself with tidying up the front. Reorganizing menus and dusting the desk with a stereotypical tiny feather duster.

The bell attached to the door rings behind you, signaling the arrival of a new customer. Straightening yourself out before you turn to greet them with a smile. Enthusiasm and warmth laced into your voice, "Welcome home, master—!"

"No fucking way."

You're sure the blood in your body quite literally freezes, pigment of your skin discoloring at the sight of the person in front of you.

Jaemin, clad in an obnoxiously red baseball cap, jaw dropped wide open before it quickly morphs into an evil grin.

Damage control is blaring in your head like a siren, ablaze with apprehension at being caught by quite literally one of the worst people.

"Jaem–" You start, hurriedly circling around the hostess desk to find any way to explain yourself.

"Miss President works at a maid café?" The male laughs with a scoff, impressed at the tiny dress you have on. Taking note of how good the pudge seeping out of your stockings look. "I think I might've just won the lottery."

Unconsciously taking a step closer; Jaemin drinks in your appearance. His old friend looking like something out of a wet dream. One of his many wet dreams of you.

"Please, Jaemin. Let's just talk outside really quick," You plead. Your coworker is now watching over you worriedly.

The male tilts his head as if pondering something, but soon nods in response. "Lead the way, Pres," He drawls lowly, loving the terrified look in your eyes.

You thank him gratefully before taking his wrist in your hand. Leading the way down the main floor. His skin is warm to the touch against the chill of yours.

Ignoring the envious stares and snide comments of jealous patrons watching you take a male to the back, you tell your coworker that you're going to take your lunch break early. In which she gives Jaemin a skeptical glare, nodding at you with multitudes of meanings. Especially to call her if things get bad.

Walking through the dressing room and exiting through the back door, the two of you are now in the back alley of the café. Being alone with him has your mind reeling, but you stand your ground.

"What are you doing here? How did you find this place?" You start, the most blaring of questions snowballing first.

Ever unreadable, Jaemin shrugs before flashing the red bag that's resting on his shoulder and tapping the logo on his cap. "I do doordash, I'm actually here to pick up an order." He answers simply.

That's right, you think before grimacing. You rub your face in exhaustion when you vaguely remember your manager mentioning teaming up with food delivery services.

"I... okay, that makes sense," You sigh, relief in knowing that he didn't stalk you to get revenge for screwing him and his club over. The eyes devoid of any emotion that stare back at you tell another story however, so you act cautiously. "Look, Jaemin. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this."

"Oh?" He questions, taking a step closer to challenge you. "And why shouldn't I? Why should I do you any favors?"

Most would describe Na Jaemin as carefree, easygoing. And they were right, except when it came to you. When you thought of him, the only words that you could think of were synonyms of difficult.

Times when he would flick your forehead at your carelessness. Other days when he would tell you how air-headed and hopeless you are for forgetting your lunches at home, inevitably sharing his with you. The way his idea of banter would quickly elevate into crude comments.

And right now, as he backs you up into a wall and caging his arms around you.

They were all things that made you fall insanely for him.

You fumble between stutters, unable to form a coherent sentence at his close proximity. Mind going haywire when a sleek hand comes to trail up your thigh softly. Breathing in harshly when he takes said hand away, rummaging through his pocket.

"I can't have anyone know Jaemin. I have a reputation to keep up, everyone will lose their respect for me," You plead.

Coming impossibly closer he takes a piece of your hair, twirling it between his finger curiously. "That's strange," He clicks his tongue. "I think a lot of people lost their respect for you when you decided to fuck them over and take their club funds away, Pres."

You squeeze your eyes shut, not understanding the mixed signals he was giving you. Being around him always steered your mind away from your end goal, never being able to think straight when it came to him.

"I told you I'm sorry! I really am, you have to believe me," You desperately plead, not witnessing the maniacal grin that's forming on his face at your begging.

In a hushed whisper, you barely register his next words before it's too late.

"Oh, I'll give you a reason to be sorry."

-click!-

You're brought back to reality at the noise, terror racing through your veins when you're met with Jaemin looking down at his phone in amusement. One arm still caged around at your head you try to understand what just happened. "Did you just...?"

He turns the device in your direction, grin growing from ear to ear. Horror washing over your body at the screen- a photo of you in all your maid clad glory, eyes closed shut in the most unflattering manner cornered like a stray puppy. "Looking real cute here, Pres."

Fight or flight overtakes your body, and you're immediately shoving him away. Shock present when he barely steps backwards. Feeling something like a stone dropping down your stomach.

The temperature in your body dropping below freezing at the prospect of everyone at school seeing their student council president working as a skimpy maid. Of your reputation being absolute demolished.

The teasing smile on his face grows into one that's crazed when you feebly attempt to snatch the phone from him. Airy laughs at the way the skirt of your dress flounders with every little jump.

The male towers over you unfortunately, barely raising his arm above his head and looking at you with a mocking pout.

You try to scratch at him in a fit of desperation but quickly fail when both of your wrists are trapped by his free hand, wrapping around them with ease. Doe eyes narrowing into a scowl before he shoves you further back into the wall, head almost hurting at the force its met with. "Easy there, sweetheart. What do you take me for?"

"You just took a picture of me!" You spit back at him, struggling against the tightening grip. You weren't stupid, you knew you should have handled business more professionally. Naivety getting the best of you thinking your history granted you some special privilege.

He quirks a knowing eyebrow at you, a Cheshire smile only putting you even more on edge. Animatedly dropping your wrists, you gawk at the indentations that his fingers left behind.

You do miss the starved gaze from Jaemin, the way he's licking his lips as you rub soothing circles into the marks he left. "Let's talk business, Pres."

Jaemin's pulling you in by the apron and tilting your chin up with his thumb and index. The icy hot attitude moving too fast for you to process. "I won't tell show anyone the photo or tell them I saw you today," He starts.

A light at the end of the tunnel has you glossing over in hope, ever foolish of the position you're in. "You won't?"

"If you play by my rules," He responds in record time, your hope quickly shattering. His voice is sickeningly sweet, dizzying you even further. Even in this threatening moment, your heart still fails you at how handsome he is. "Do what I tell you, and I'll delete the pic."

"And... what do you want me to do?"

"Get our money back." He states, plain and simple.

You blubber like a fish at his demand. "Jaemin, I can't-"

"Can't do what, hm?" Cutting you off before raising his phone in his other hand, image on his phone highlighted. Tabs of all his social medias one tap away for the world to see. He doesn't miss the panic in your shaking body. "I know you can fix it. Play by my rules and we'll be smooth sailing."

"If you don't though..." He quickly taps away at his phone, causing you to grab at his wrists to see what he's doing. Showing you a tweet with the image pasted, ready to be sent with a hover of his thumb. "We can do it the hard way."

"Okay, okay!" You babble, only feeling ease when he saves it to his drafts.

Grabbing your cheeks with his thumb and forefinger forcefully, his front teeth poke out mischievously at the sight of the high and mighty president breaking down under his whim. "So, do we have a deal?"

You nod frantically, struggling against his index that's squeezing at the flesh. "I promise. I promise I'll get it back."

Jaemin is beyond ecstatic, Dean Nakamoto is about to lose his favorite pet, and Jaemin has a brand new collar ready for her. "Good girl."

Na Jaemin has quite literally threatened you with blackmail, to expose you in front of everyone who thinks fondly of you. But instead of being terrified of the consequences— you fear the way heat pools between your legs instead.

——

["Oh, could you also get my doordash order for me? I think it might be cold already."

"Fuck off, Jaemin."]

——

You and Xiaojun are in the canteen exchanging snacks, chicken nuggets ending up on his plate while you get a freshly air fried gyoza.

It's easy to keep face the morning after last night's events. No one able to read the fear that's constantly brewing. Inside your mind you were a bundle of anxiety, dreading what Jaemin had up his sleeve lest you fail the task you were given.

That same anxiety is what leads you to embarrassing yourself to the point of wanting to curl up in a ball at the core of the earth.

Across the cafeteria you catch Jaemin walking alongside his friend Yangyang. The two exchanging in casual conversation. You curl into yourself in hopes that he doesn't catch you staring intently.

You really do try to listen to Xiaojun's rant. (Something about the work load that the dean has dropped onto you guys this week.) But it soon falls on deaf ears when the sight in front of you has you scrambling out of your seat. Rushing towards the pair across from you as Xiaojun blasts questions of where you were going.

Shoes skidding like burnt rubber as you speed to the two males when Jaemin shows Yangyang his phone, the latter male bringing a hand to his mouth with a shocked expression.

Jaemin doesn't even notice you coming in fast, focused on Yangyang's hysterical laughter. He jumps a little when he registers you snatching his phone from him. "What the hell?" He bellows.

Yangyang is at a loss when he darts between the two of you, confusion apparent at the unlikely interaction.

You're about to scream your head off at Jaemin, rebuke him for not holding his end of the deal not even sixteen hours later. Yell curses of how much you hate him and how he's ruined you.

Until you realize that they were watching a video— some dude getting blown back by the force of fireworks. Bass boosted obnoxiously.

You're absolutely dumbfounded, turning to Jaemin before slowly returning his phone. The male is unamused, eyes half lidded with his tongue against his cheek.

Yangyang is the first to break the awkward silence. "Uh... everything alright here?"

"Just peachy." Jaemin grits.

"Uh, yeah! Just wanted to see what was so funny y'know?" You forcibly laugh. Yangyang scrunches his nose at you, slightly weirded out by your blatant lack of social skills.

"Right, uh, then I'll leave you guys to it! Enjoy the rest of your guys' day!" You flash them two thumbs up before backing up, turning to immediately bring a hand to cover your face in embarrassment.

Speed walking back to Xiaojun who's now eaten your share of gyoza, you throw your head down onto the table.

"The hell was that?" Xiaojun asks with a mouth full of food.

You shake your head at him, not wanting to ruminate on the event any further. Not even allowed a moment to reflect on your idiocy when your phone vibrates in your back pocket.

Pulling it out to check the notification, you want to throw yourself off the face of the earth when you see it's a text from Jaemin. Looking up to see that he's now sitting at a table with Yangyang, staring right at you. Quirking his head lightly at his own phone, silently demanding you open the message.

Unlocking the device like you're diffusing a bomb, you prepare for the worst.

na jaemin: Don't trust me huh

you: well it's not like ur holding me hostage or something

na jaemin: Don't be so dramatic I'm a man of my word you know this

you: we haven't talked in a year and ur very mad at me you cant blame me for being scared

na jaemin: Fine but I'm not apologizing for just going about my day

I'm serious I won't do anything unless you don't hold up your end of the deal

you: i can't believe ur making me do this

na jaemin: Shouldn't have taken my money :)

Anyways come over after you're done with classes

you: wtf

na jaemin: Come over

you: why

na jaemin: I wanna talk more lol

you: ur actually insane, no

na jaemin: [Attachment: 1 Image]

Play by my rules right?

Shooting the individual daggers from your side of the cafeteria, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Questions racing through your head with what he could possibly have in store.

"Hey, are you listening?" Xiaojun asks, poking at you annoyingly.

You nod at Xiaojun's comment passively while maintaining eye contact with Jaemin. Letting your captor know that you agree to his conditions.

Jaemin winks at you happily, tapping at his screen once more before jutting his chin at you again.

na jaemin: Make sure you're wearing that little maid dress too ;)

Oh god.

——

He's only mildly inconvenienced when he opens his door to see you dressed in an oversized hoodie and sweats.

Taking just a little bit of pity on you the way you clench on the straps of your bag. "Don't just stand there. Come in," He beckons you.

Taking in your surroundings, you conclude that everything is fairly the same. Still quiet, spacious, but whole overall. Home to many of your platonic nights in; home to just as many fantasies of being taken on every piece of furniture.

Knocking your shoes off you try your best not to falter at the stare that's burning holes into your back.

"Thought I asked you to wear your maid outfit?" Jaemin crosses his arms when he leans against his door to close it.

Acknowledging the creak as it's shut, you brace yourself. Only to be startled when you feel a soothing hand at your back. "I'm not on the clock," You shrug, hating how you ease into his touch.

"Don't worry. Wasn't expecting for you to do it anyway," He leads the two of you to his couch, allowing you to sit first and get comfortable. Following a few seconds later he looks straight towards the drywall. Pondering his next words.

The silence rings against your ears, deafening. Unable to put up with his cryptic games, you speak first. "What do you want from me, Jaemin?"

He's taken aback by your assertiveness, cool demeanor breaking for just a second before he softens yet again. "I believe we've talked about this already."

Huffing at how he himself is breaking under your presence, memories flooding in. Your smaller pinky finger not so far from his, he resists the urge to pinch and tug at it playfully.

"So," You begin. "Because I screwed over your club, you're blackmailing me. That's all this is." Coming to full terms with your situation.

"I guess it would seem like that, yes," He huffs into the air, but then immediately shakes his head. "No, you're right. That's exactly what it is."

Apparently you were expecting a different answer. Conflicting feelings playing in your head like a record. Of the frantic and possessive touches at the alley last night. Almost sickening that you'd think such behavior would mean it meant anything to him.

There you go, overthinking his actions again. Not that any of it matters.

Digging through your bag you pull out a professional looking folder. Jaemin raises an eyebrow in curiosity as you hand it to him. Opening it his mouth drops open at the contents, whipping his head at you in disbelief. "Is this?"

You nod. "Yup."

Pausing before speaking again, you sink into the couch lazily. "I hope you know I meant it when I said there's almost nothing I could do, but that. You've really put me in a bad position," You laugh.

"So it really wasn't your choice to take our funds. It's been Nakamoto using it for money laundering" He mutters while flipping through all of the papers in the folder. "How did you get this so fast?"

A shrug is sent his way. "What can I say? I'm the Dean's Pet, right?" You give him your first smile in over a year, albeit a pained one. "Of course his precious dog has a door to his room," You jingle the key to the dean's office in front of his face.

Jaemin laughs at you incredulously, surprise at the alarmingly quick rebellion. "I can't believe you," One of his hands find your knee, teasing it with light touches. His expression quickly turns into one of concern. "Why didn't you just tell me? I would've taken it up with that asshole instead."

"That's exactly why," You shake your head at him. "I couldn't snitch on him. He finds out I'm pulling strings and I'm done for, might as well pack my bags before he kicks me out."

You couldn't pinpoint the moment when the atmosphere of the room changed, whether it was when he scoot closer to you. Or maybe it was when he brought a hand to cup your face, letting you nuzzle into his touch when he looks at you with anguished eyes.

"Why do you always do this?" Jaemin asks, no malice or any negativity to be found.

Baffled by his question, you ask: "What do you mean?"

Possibly by his own volatility, he brings your foreheads together. Taking each other's presence in when his eyelashes bat against the apples of your cheeks.

"You always get the short end of the stick," He mutters, "Always carry the burden by yourself."

"Jaemin..." You trail off before he pushes you back onto the couch.

Toppling over your body, he laces your fingers together when he looks down at you. "Always push me away when I could be helping you. Taking care of you."

Free hand trailing from your jaw to the middle of your throat, index finger meeting the collar of your hoodie. Nuzzling his nose against your jaw he gives an experimental kiss to the crook of your neck, causing you to sigh.

"You've always wanted this too, right?" He murmurs into your collarbone. Peeking his tongue to dip down into your collarbone, heaving a shocked gasp, arching into his touch. "Right?"

"Y-yes..." You're timid against his ministrations. Taking the proper precautions before coming but not thinking so far into the future that it would actually happen. Not believing that he had the same desires as you.

He hums in satisfaction at your answer, vibrations traveling down your core at an embarrassing rate. Wanting nobody's touch but his, abstaining from any other guy who wanted to court you. You're sure it would give the male an ego boost like no other.

Needless to say you're at ease with how turned on you are when you feel his growing member rub against your thigh. His hooded eyes are glued to yours. Picking at the hem of your hoodie, sliding the material off.

Looking away from him when he inhales sharply. "You..," Jaemin cackles. Running a hand through his hair in absolute astonishment at the sight in front of him. "Holy shit."

Beneath him is a preview of your body in a tight maid dress, spaghetti strap slipping lazily off your shoulder. Ribbons and ruffles adorning the breasts until they meet the makeshift apron at the waist.

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassment flushing through your veins at the way Jaemin gawks at you. He tuts before grabbing at you before revealing your shy expression. "You actual vixen," The male grins. "Don't hide from me now."

He's quick to rip your sweats off, just as amazed at the skirt of your dress. Stockings just as tight around your thighs as the ones from last night, Jaemin has to keep himself from absolutely ravaging you on the spot.

You yelp when he drags you down the couch by the ankles, hard member meeting your covered cunt with precision. Not used to being in such a vulnerable position, you cross your arms to protect your modesty. The skimpy piece slipping around with even the slightest of movement. "Jaemin, slow down!"

"Jaemin?" He quizzes. "Aren't you my sweet maid? Shouldn't you be calling me 'master' or something?" Clicking his tongue when you grimace at him. "I guess master is a little weird, huh."

He pauses for a moment before a light bulb goes off in his head. "How about sir?"

"I..."

"Come on now, try it for me," His Cheshire grin reappears. Squeezing your face together to form the word, lips puckering like a pup under his grip. "'Siiiiir,'' he beckons you to say with him.

Humiliation overwhelming you, tears beginning to prick at your eyes. "S-sir..." You mumble.

"Good girl," Jaemin applauds you, insatiable lust brewing at his chest. Tapping at his chin as a plethora of scenarios run through his head. "What else can I get my maid to do for me?"

Despite how collected he looks on top of you, you aren't privy to the absolute war that is going on in his conscience. Having the one he's wanted for so long finally beneath him was already enough to send him into a state of emergency. But in this tiny excuse of a maid dress that barely does anything to hide your modesty, panties already on full display. He was more than close to being a mad man.

Jaemin brings your lips together for the first time ever. Quite unlike what either of you ever anticipated, it was fiery from the start. Smashing them together in a frenzy of gasps and tonguing.

"Jaem—" You gasp against his lips, yelping when a stinging slap comes down on the side of your thigh.

"Sir," He reminds you thoroughly before reconnecting your lips, chasing after the taste of your tongue. Separating from you with an obnoxious and sloppy 'pop!'

Veiny hands trail up at the skirt of your dress, making careful stops at the expanse of your hips. Feeling up every inch to memorize the flesh. Coming to stop at your breasts, playful eyes meeting yours when he snaps the strap of your dress against your shoulder playfully.

"Sir," You whine, body shimmying as it's trapped between the warmth of Jaemin's body and the couch. "What are you going to do with me?"

The male gleefully fondles at your breast, nuzzling his head between the mounds as he inhales your scent. Squeezing them both to test your reactions, satisfied when he catches an awestruck gaze staring back at him.

Pulling at the material he's over the moon when he's met with your naked breasts immediately. "No bra, baby?" He asks before mouthing at one of your nipples, sucking harshly at the tips that harden against the cool air. Smiling against the bud when delicious moans meet his ear. "Such a dirty girl."

It's undebatable that the distribution of power in this dynamic is extremely imbalanced, with Jaemin clearly leading. Bending you to his every beck and whim, doing whatever he tells you to do. Terrified that you put yourself in this situation because you love the way he treats you like his toy that could never object.

As his covered cock meets the hood of your clit against your panties, you reel at the friction he orchestrates. A teasing rhythm that gives you a taste of what's to come, but no where near enough to satisfy you. You try to arch your back into his touch, to grind your weight against him. Yet to no avail he shoves you down mercilessly, not wanting to give you even an inkling of an idea that you have any control in this situation.

"Please, sir," You beg, teary eyes now leaking down your cheeks. "Need more."

"Such a needy girl," He huffs, crawling up your body. "But you're my maid, right?" He hums, teasing you with a pinch of your nipple on his way up. Your eyes widen like saucers when his thighs are surrounding your face. Bulge fighting to be freed from its confines. "That means you're at my service. Do what I want."

Your radar hones in on the way he quietly zips down his jeans, everything moving in slow motion as he pushes down the offensive material to the tops of his knees. Gawking at the intimidating size that rests in front of you, the thin fabric of his underwear being the only thing separating you from your prize.

Patting a hand through your hair dotingly, he trails it down your jaw before tapping at your chin. "Take these off for me, will you?" Quick to slap away your hands that awkwardly navigate around his thighs when they meet the hem. "Ah ah, no hands. Use your mouth," He implores you.

Challenging you when you aren't quick enough to answer, you make haste to do as he asks. "Yes sir," You reply before craning your neck at a painful angle. Maintaining direct eye contact as you use your strength to reach the top or his boxers, nose colliding with the covered bulge embarrassingly.

Jaemin's cock is massive, standing proud when it slaps against his stomach. Smirking down when he catches you ogling it like a work of art.

Wasting no time you instinctively let his cock enter your mouth, wide open to let him do as he pleases. Seeking nothing but to satisfy your master and provide him the best of service. He growls when he bottoms out, tip flirting with the back of your throat.

"Fuuuck," His eyes roll at the sultry feel of your wet cavern. Shuddering at how naturally your tongue swirls along the shaft. "My pretty maid is going to let me fuck her mouth?"

You nod with him still in your mouth, your arms wrapping around the backs of his thighs to pull him closer. Meeting each other in the middle when you bob your head and he thrusts against you.

The back of your neck is absolutely aching at the friction and your throat feels like it's being punctured with every descent of his cock, but it felt so liberating to let this side of you loose. To be a free use whore for the one you’ve had eyes for. Your thighs rub together to alleviate some of the ache in your cunt, fantasizing about the way he would fuck you until you’ve reached a higher plane of being.

He's laughing airily at how well you take him. Surprised at how long your stamina lasted when you separate from him, tears breaking down your cheeks freely now. Remainder of your mascara dripping and crackling at the corners of your eyes.

"You want it, don't you?" He asks with a tilt of his head, angry red tip meeting your cheek with a light slap. Batting your eyelashes with doe eyes have him biting his lip before tracing the outline of your lips with precum like a gloss. "God.. who would've thought that Miss President was such a pretty little slut."

The surge of power that overtakes his body travels like lightning when you whine like a bitch in heat, and he doesn't wait before shoving himself down your throat, causing you to release a muffled groan against his groin. "Open up, baby."

You struggle to find breath as his crotch meets your nose, releasing quick inhales and exhales against the girthy length. Tears easily slip out of your eyes and he lets out a sigh at the way your tongue languidly tries to find comfort against his shaft. Your gazes meet and he pats the top of your head adoringly as he releases shallow breaths.

"Gonna cum now, sweetheart," He fucks against your face. Balls slapping against your chin and inhaling against his groin, your eyes roll back at how devastatingly ruthless he is with you. Fucking your mouth in earnest before he slips out, cock covered in sheen before his cum shoots everywhere. "Fuck!"

You're coughing for air as his cum lands all over your face down to your collarbone, some drops meeting the couch in a creamy mess. Emptying the rest of his load against your splayed out tongue. He throws his head back with a groan when you swallow it so obediently.

He detangles himself from your body before tucking himself back in, catching his breath your fucked out state resting against his couch. Wiping the sweat that's formed on his forehead back with the rest of his hair he approaches you with a dreamy sigh.

"Baby," Jaemin starts, "You've made a mess everywhere. You have to clean it up."

Brain too lost to comprehend what he's asking, he takes the reins by scooping up the remaining drops that lead up your chin. Coagulating into a thick serving against his digits before shoving them as far down your throat as possible.

Squealing against the force you lick languidly against him, savoring every last cell like it's a delicacy. You couldn't even be surprised when you hear the snap shot of his phone at your face, bedroom eyes caught in real time as your tongue laces around your lips to make sure every drop has been cleaned up. Breasts still spilled out on full display. Maid dress frazzled like collateral damage under the weight of Jaemin on top of you.

"Jaemin..." You blink slowly, adoring the way he kisses all over your face in praise. Coming down from the high of doing so well for him.

"Just like that, sweetheart," The male kisses against your forehead. "Do what I tell you, and I'll give you everything,"

You roll your eyes at his pompous ego, making room for him to squeeze flush against you on the couch. "More pics to blackmail me with?"

"Mm, nah," He shakes his head. "This one's just for me. But the other one's still fair game. I'm still holding you to your end of the deal, get my money back or it's a bust."

"Bit harsh, aren't you?" You pout. "Let you face fuck me and you're still holding me hostage."

"Don't be so dramatic," He trails his hand down your spine, playing with the ribbon that holds your apron together. Just a tad upset with himself that he didn't take care of you before fucking himself out. He narrows his eyes in confusion. "You handle it pretty well. It's 'cause you're a little slut," He chuckles.

——

Absolute dread. If you weren't careful, the four horsemen of the apocalypse would probably come bursting through the walls right now.

After a day of plotting and scheming alongside Jaemin to get the art department's funds back, you've reached the conclusion that the best way to get it back is by exposing Nakamoto in front of the people who matter.

Your presentation in front of all of his colleagues.

The day of Jaemin decides to accompany you despite your protests of handling it yourself. Under the impression that he was going to be there for moral support, Na Jaemin yet again proves to you that he is anything but what you expect.

Cornering you into an empty classroom as you prepare for your presentation, he shoves you against the nearest wall. Whispering dirty nothings into your ear while flipping your skirt up. 'Precautionary measures,' as he described it.

Wetting his fingers with his saliva he shoves his index and middle into your constantly craving hole, slipping in with ease. Pathetically always getting wet whenever in proximity of the male. When you plead for mercy against the wall, he quickly shoves a small vibrator in that's paired with a bullet to stimulate your clit.

Unable to protest as your presentation was slowly coming up, he simply flashes you a skeevy grin. Flashing a pink remote in your face, winking at your frazzled reaction. Most definitely not bothering to tell you he's ruined your hair in the midst of his playing. "Better hurry now, it's almost time."

——

A crowd of people file into the room, dressed to the nines in business attire that blares importance. Upon taking a seat where your name is plated in metal, you try to ease your nervousness by ignoring the two toys that Jaemin has planted in you as much as possible.

That seems to fail when Dean Nakamoto walks in, face stern as always. Greeting you with a curt nod before taking the seat next to you.

You respectfully return to gesture to acknowledge his presence. "Hel-"

"I presume you're prepared for today's presentation, yes?" Nakamoto cuts you off. Causing Jaemin from the next seat over to look at him with a sneer. "I hope you don't embarrass me today. I've banked a lot on you, you know."

At his curtness, you shut your mouth. Merely nodding in response before turning straight in your seat. Remembering how condescending and narcissistic he is, you grimace at the times he’s dumped his work onto you as if he was 'too above it.'

When his last colleague takes their seat, it's like a switch has flipped. Dean Nakamoto's usual hardened and distant persona is replaced with a jolly man who is loved by all. Thanking everyone in the room for joining him on such an important day.

After going through customs, Nakamoto deems it's time for the show to start.

And so does Jaemin, flicking the remote on as the lowest setting of the vibrator springs to life inside of you. The two of you looking at each other knowingly, your eyes widening like saucers under his mischievous stare.

The dean turns to you with a proud smile. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my star pupil and the president of this university's student government. She has endured a lot this year but has accomplished just as much. I'm extremely proud to have appointed her this task," He speaks highly about you, causing an applause to rip through the meeting room.

Not used to Nakamoto praising you so kindly, your mind is thrown into hysteria. The rumbling of the cheers only add to the anxiety. Barely even distracting you from the low tempo Jaemin has set for the vibrator inside of you.

When he returns to the table he gestures for you to take the stage with kind eyes. Returning a tight lipped smile you push yourself up from the edge of the table, wobbling awkwardly to the podium. You take great care to not look at Jaemin, knowing that one look at him could easily make you crumble and beg for his cock.

Others don't take notice but Jaemin chuckles quietly. Elbow resting against the edge of the table and using his hand to cover the growing smirk.

You could work around the pace that Jaemin has set, still able to form a coherent sentence but unable to stop the wetness that slowly forms against the friction.

"Before I begin," You start, Nakamoto already raising an eyebrow at the blatant ignorance of the approved script. Shaking your head at your introduction, immediately cutting to the chase.

"No, actually. I'd like to make a request to Dean Nakamoto," You narrow your eyes at him. Hands start to scratch at the edges of the podium as the buzzing becomes more prominent between your legs. "I would like to ask you to return the money you have unsolicitedly taken from the photography club, along with the rest of the art departments."

Dean Nakamoto is shocked and dumbfounded at your request. A flurry of confused whispers brew between the officials at such allegations. He tries to save face by taking on his cold and threatening persona, one he knows that always puts you back into place.

"Why would I do that? The budget that I've given them is more than enough. Their equipment is more than sufficient. I fail to see the problem," Nakamoto quips, irritation evident at your sudden rebellion.

"Because..." You inhale slowly, trying your hardest to ignore the low buzzing between your legs. Praying that the wetness doesn't leak past your already sopping panties. "It's the principle, Dean Nakamoto. Y-you can't discriminate against photography club or the rest of the arts department because of—"

You topple over slightly against the podium, squeezing your thighs as close together as possible. Trying to hold in a wanton moan as the settings have been changed to stimulate your clit as well, the bullet lodged against your bud shoots to life as nerves shoot through your cunt all the way up your body like electricity.

Sending Jaemin your iciest yet fucked out glare in a quick glance, you resent him even more as he only winks at you in response. Fighting the urge to drag him out of the meeting room and have him fuck you senseless.

Jaemin has an evil grin plastered on his face, the pink remote invisible to everyone as he toys with the settings— intervals of slow and steady rhythms to rapid and successive beats intending to destroy whatever brain cells you had left. Thumb lazily flicking against the switches like a television remote.

Dean Nakamoto immediately cuts into your lack of focus, whether for better or worse. "Because of what, Miss President," He demands rather than asks, foot that's crossed over his leg shaking in impatience.

His colleagues aren't anymore impressed, bored and borderline irritated stares sent your way with no knowledge that there's two sex toys working in tandem against and in your pussy, almost touching but separated by the wall of flesh. Working together in unison to absolutely ruin you.

You bite your lip hard enough to almost draw blood, white knuckling the edges of the podium for dear life as your orgasm comes close. You squeeze your eyes tight shut to ease your mind, but the vibration in your walls along with the rubbing against your clit has you almost delirious.

Seeing stars you barely register Dean Nakamoto snapping at you. "Are you even well? You look sick. This isn't like you at all," Nakamoto tries to feign concern for the audience, but it's blatant that he only wants to end this and reprimand you, possibly even punish you for the embarrassment you've caused him today for both your betrayal of trust and failure to present yourself properly.

"Now I suggest you hurry up and wrap up your garbled thoughts, Miss President. We have more pressing matters to attend to," Your Dean reprimands you.

Jaemin only glances at the older male with an unamused look, eyebrow quirked. He shrugs before flipping the switch to an even more intense setting. Your eyes snap wide open as your jaw drops in a silent scream.

Nakamoto starts. "Miss—"

"Because of your blatant bias!" You groan out, moan obvious in your voice as your chest falls over the flat of the podium. Ass sticking out like a slut as you wiggle around, pathetically trying to run away from the stimulation. In turn only motivating the toys to hit spots to pleasure you further. Silently thanking that from your position nobody could see how your slick is now trickling down the back of your legs.

"Because I saw you u-use the budget you'd taken from the art department and dump it all into the sports teams!" You cry while feigning an accusatory tone, tears brimming and threatening to break through. "T-that's not all though. You laundered that money made from the clubs into the school just so it could end up right back into your pockets!"

Everyone but Jaemin is gawking at you with confusion at the show in front of them, most drawing the conclusion that you're simply just overly passionate about the topic. Your whole body is on fire, the quivering of your hole clenching against the vibrator begging for release.

Giving one last pleading look at the male who has both ruined you and freed you, he sends you an endearing smile before quirking his head at you.

"Good girl," Jaemin whispers, granting the grand finale as he jacks up the toys to their most intense settings. The bullet pointing at the center of your clit and the vibrator moving like it has a life of its own with the support of your hips grinding against the podium.

You snap your teeth against your bottom lip as you bite back a scream. Squealing into your clenched fist, noise barely audible against the outraged uproar of the other officials. Gushing hard enough for your wetness to come out in a wave. Orgasm washing over you in euphoria, your eyes rolling to the back of your head before you stumble over to inhale and exhale deeply.

Jaemin turns off the toys before swiftly pocketing the remote. Power trip evident in his hardened bulge at the show you gave him and knocking the man he hates most off his pedestal. "Is that true, Mr. Nakamoto?" He inquires with a fake ignorance to the older male, shit eating grin evident in his tone.

Nakamoto's jaw is dropped as his peers scrutinize him. Unending accusations being thrown at him. Head whipping left and right at his rapidly diminishing reputation.

"She doesn't know what she's talking about! She's crazy!" He slams his hands against the table, waving an arm in your direction. "Just look at her! She's delirious!"

You're still trying to catch your breath, perspiration dripping down your head leaving you feeling sticky all over. Feeling everyone's gaze on you again you try to find the willpower to stand straight, to no avail still wheezing like you'd just ran a marathon.

"She's crazy?" Jaemin mocks before taking your side at the podium, hand not visible to the audience as he cups your ass under your skirt. Smirking at the sticky wetness that meets his hand. "Care to tell me what all of this is then?"

The younger male holds up his other hand. A familiar folder full of invoices directed to Nakamoto's account, administered by anonymous parties all over. The latter male at a loss for words as you finally recover from your high. Glowering your eyes at the man who's kept you like a bird in a cage for years now.

Whether you flew into another trap, you couldn't say that you mind. Feeling much more at home with your new keeper as he circles your waist in support. Whispering praises into your ear at how good you were for him.

Your soon to be ex-dean has been boo'd out of the large meeting room, looking at the two of you in absolute disgust as he slams the door behind him. Surely preparing for whatever legal action his superiors have waiting for him.

When the frenzy finally dies down and everyone has cleared the room, you're left your vices with Jaemin. Panting heavily from the intense climax you instinctively shove him when he comes too close.

"Come on now, Pres," He coos while drawing you in by the waist. Nuzzling his nose into your neck cozily while he plays with the hem of your skirt. Hand trailing up to remove the slick covered toys, smirking before putting them in his pocket. "You did amazing. I'm so proud of you."

Groaning at his unnecessary praise, you slap his shoulder. "Did you really have to shove a vibrator up my pussy?" You whine.

Jaemin pouts at you in return, giving your ass a light smack at your complaining. "It was to make sure you behaved and did what I told you to," He growls, bringing you in closer causing you to gasp at his apparent erection poking at your stomach. "What? Didn't like showing all the nice people and your favorite dean what a nasty whore you are?"

Your stomach drops at the humiliating thought, hoping that you had been as discreet as possible. "They... They couldn't tell, right?" You seek Jaemin's arms for comfort and reassurance.

He shrugs. "Who knows? I'm pretty sure the riot you caused mattered more than you moaning like a bitch in heat," He laughs before nibbling at your jaw. "But I know I had fun."

Before you could think of a comeback, he's twisting your bodies in the direction of the meeting table. Yelping when he shoves you face down against the surface, ass in the air for Jaemin to glorify.

"Thought that we were done?"

Flipping your skirt up, Jaemin moans at the sight. Cotton panties absolutely stained and ruined, top of your rimmed hole to the back of your thighs shining with a mix of fluids. "How could I let you go after your little show?"

Your hands seek sanctuary on the edge of the table, gripping for stability. "Jaemin! Someone might come in!"

He's absolute dazed, plea completely flying over his head as he takes in the sight. Teary eyes at the forceful grip he has at the back of your neck, bending to his will. Insatiable need to make you his.

"God, baby," He grips the meat of your ass, falling to his knees while he fondles your cheeks, panties coming down on the way. A quiet gasp escaping you when the cool air hits your exposed core.

Spreading your cheeks to get an even better view, he's in awe at your beautiful holes. Making direct eye contact with your pulsing rim, pussy convulsing around the mold that the vibrator had left. Empty, begging to be refilled.

As a bout of wetness oozes out of your hole, Jaemin takes great care to make sure not a drop is wasted. Catching it with his tongue just before the gossamer thread rips, meeting it at the source when he licks from your clit to your core.

"Oh god," You groan out, teeth grinding together when you feel him tongue fucking you from the back. Still extremely sensitive from your prior orgasm, aftershocks of the vibrator still causing you to quiver.

Suckling on your folds, he separates from your core with a pop. Gasping for air after eating you like a five course meal.

Idiotically believing he'd grant you a break, he dives right back in. Licking around your hole while motoring his head back and forth, nose flattening against your puckered hole. Scratchy pants leaving your throat when he disgustingly inhales your gaudy scent.

Fucked out eyes flutter open while he feasts, ogling the hole above your pussy. Like a man possessed he leaves your overused hole to attend to the other.

Appendage fighting through the wrinkled skin, airy laughs leaving him at your whining. "Sir, not there!" You beg.

Whole body twitching under his mouth fucking. An iron grip at the flesh of your thighs to hold you still as you try to run from his pleasure. "Shut up," He grunts, feeling victorious when his tongue seeps through the barrier.

"Ahh!" You squeal, hand traveling back to rip at his scalp. Wanting to run away but unconsciously shoving your ass even further against him. Legs burning from the overstimulation. Heeled boots not doing any favors to help maintain poise, feet aching and fighting the urge to give out. "Sir... Gonna... I'm gonna-"

Always one step ahead of you, a veiny hand darts to your clit, rubbing in harsh figure eights. Flashes booming in your vision like fireworks when the mind fucking orgasm washes over your body.

"Fuck!" You scream, head whipping up like a woman possessed. Neck strained as it bends in an absurd angle.

Squirt passes through like a dam, coating Jaemin's face when he tries to savor every last droplet. Having to circle his strong biceps above your knees to keep your spasming form from falling over. Incessant babbling incapable of forming even the least coherent sentence.

"Fucking shit, baby," He wipes off the remains of your essence with the back of his hand. Playing with the wetness that's leftover when he grabs your ass again, smearing it all over the fleshy surface. "So hot, my god. Fucking perfect for me."

A lazy smile adorning your face at his praise, head falling back onto the table in exhausted delight when he pets your hair. Proud of how good you are for him, his heart beating at an irate pace at the fucked out yet loving look you give him.

"Give me one more?" He asks, kissing up your shoulder blades to ease your shaking. Meeting your lips in a soft peck, tasting yourself on his tongue.

You give him the green light with a weak nod.

And without a care in the world, he's stripping the both of you out of your clothes. You gasp when he rips at the seams of your panties, pocketing it along with the sex toys for later reference.

Shirts flying in unmemorable directions, kicking both his boxers and pants off in one go. He lets your breasts spill out of your bra by pulling the cups down, letting it meet the rest of the fabric when he unclasps it.

Engorged cock shoving into your hole in one fell swoop, the both of you groaning in euphoria. Jaemin fills you in amazingly. Veiny cock stirring your insides from the get go when he sets an excruciating pace.

"You wanna know something?" Jaemin lowers his chest onto your back, allowing him to thrust in deeper and more intimately. He brings a hand to trail through your scalp before craning your neck to the side, allowing for dirty eye contact to be made. Disbelief at the fucked out expression on your face, he continues in glee. "I was never actually going to show anyone that photo."

Whatever questions you were going to ask were replaced with cries of pleasure. Chuckling at your moans and the squelch of your pussy. He brings you in for an adoring yet sloppy kiss, quickly separating with a suck of your tongue.

"Wh... What do you mean?" You manage between panting moans, only able to speak during the split second intermissions of his pointed thrusts.

"Why would I?" Jaemin laughs, grip in your hair causing your scalp to burn amazingly. Cramping your neck when he pulls your head up from the table to get an even better look at you. "I could never show anyone this side of you. This cute, bratty, slutty side of you—?"

He licks up your earlobe and then into the shell of your ear before biting harshly on it. Groaning into it when he takes on a relentless pace, balls meeting your clit in succession. Leftover cum and brand new wetness alike flying everywhere with every plunge of his cock.

"It's mine. All fucking mine."

He practically roars when he feels your hole clenching impossibly tight against his cock.

"Didn't want to delete that photo so I could jack off to it every night since I saw you. Looked so fucking pretty and needy," Thrusts losing rhythm when he feels balls clenching in need for release. "Wanted to slut you out so bad."

"Sir! I'm cumming, please!" You scream when he bottoms out, tip of his cock kissing your cervix so sweetly. Drool from your mouth like a socket. Fucked beyond any plane of coherence, brain devoid of any thoughts but Jaemin.

"That's right, baby," He pulls out, cock popping out with an obnoxious squelch, heavy slap against his stomach as the tip meets his belly button. Almost causing you to screech at the loss of stimulation and scratch at him before he flips you onto your back. Impending orgasm barely at your fingertips escaping your clutches.

Hair flooding around your head like a halo, scrunched expression driving Jaemin insane beyond belief. Shoving you further up the expanse of the table, he joins you when he crawls over your body. Caging you in between strong arms, throwing your legs forcefully over his shoulders.

Seconds too long before he plunges back in, you’re screaming at him to come back, he shuts you up with a shove of his fingers in your mouth. "You'll get to cum again, selfish slut," He grits when he dives back in, reaching the hilt in one thrust. "Let master enjoy himself a little more."

Long fingers cause you to gag when they reach the back of your throat, the salty taste of perspiration mixed with your juices leave you hysterical. Paired with the slap of his dick against your abused cunt.

"Please- I can't anymore. Please please please let me cum," You beg voice muffled against his fingers. Shrieking with a bout of fat tears dripping from your sockets when his thrusts reach new depths, his feet planted against the table to fold you even further into yourself.

You lose track of the moment, everything is Jaemin. Feels like him, smells like him, tastes like him- it's just Jaemin. Licking around his fingers as they leave your mouth, you give him a delirious look full of adoration.

Loyal to him at a borderline unhealthy level. You're saddened that not every single one of your holes are filled by Jaemin, feeling empty when his fingers leave your mouth for your clit once again.

Lost in his old world of your walls constricting around his cock, he's brought back when your hands cup his face. Two equally dazed gazes meeting in unison, a hazy sigh leaving you at his wanton groans.

"Jaemin, kiss me, pleasee" You beg adorably, teary eyes undeniably irresistible. Wrapping arms around his neck to bring him closer than you already were. He could never deny such a request, giving in when he plants his plush lips against yours.

Angling your heads to get as much of each other as possible. Tongues dancing in harmony before battling for dominance, inevitably losing when he bites at your bottom lip.

His wet muscle shoved down your mouth to lick at the inner flesh of your cheeks, teeth clacking carelessly as he tries to reach as deep as possible in every hole he dominates. Marking you with bruises and bites on the outside, making sure you carry his seed on the inside.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?" Separating from the kiss, his thrusting surely becomes sloppier but only grows in power, pistoning with every thrash of his hips. Tilting your chin up to kiss the tip of your nose. Crazed grin taking over when you bob your head.

He uses the last of his energy to throw his whole body into every thrust, fighting the ache of his legs to please you. Pussy sucking him in so good, spasming and gripping around him like it never wants his cock to leave. "Do it then. Cum for me, cum on this cock."

Your vision goes blurry when your eyes roll back, seeing nothing but white when your last orgasm crashes in. Coagulated slick layering from the prior rounds coating his cock along with the fresh new layer, a nasty mess spilling everywhere as he chases his own.

"I know, baby," He reassures you when you screech at the overstimulation. Scratching down the expanse of his back in hopes of keeping you from floating away, skin reddening as you mark him yours. "I'm almost there. C'mon, you can do it."

A few more strokes and he catches up to you, a raspy groan echoing across the empty classroom as the contents of his balls spills inside of you.

"Oh my god," He growls. Rolling over onto his side, laying next to you who is even more spent. The two of you share a look before his gaze darts to your leaking pussy. The mix of the translucent and creamy cum spilling out of you.

"That was..." You start, back arching slightly at the aftershocks that tremor through your core.

"Fucking amazing," He cups your cheek before giving you a chaste kiss. "You're absolutely amazing."

Despite wanting to sleep for the next ten hours, Jaemin throws himself up off the table. Collecting your clothes before dressing you up like his own doll, feeling pampered at the care he's giving you.

Lightly patting the side of your thigh, he motions for you to head to the bathroom. His pants hanging low on his waist, toned physique ever appetizing despite being fucked to oblivion. "Go clean up. I'll wait for you here and then take you home."

Once you get to the frame of the door, you turn back to him. Giggling at the way he's wiping down the leftover puddle of your shared cum on the table. "Hey Jaemin?"

He hums at you in response. "Yes, Pres?"

"Thanks."

——

"No." You blank.

"Come ooon," Jaemin whines. Poking at your nose to distract you from the work on your laptop. "Don't knock it until you try it. It's not even that bad! My tongue's been in your ass, this is nothing."

Not acknowledging the cute pout of his lip, you squish his foot with your own under the table. Taking great pleasure in his cries of pain.

A few weeks later after the whole ordeal, Yuta Nakamoto has been expelled from his duties as your university's dean. Replaced by a much more ethical and fair man known as Lee Doyoung.

Rewarded for your heroism against the corrupt official you were granted a full scholarship, still keeping your job at the maid cafe as you realized how much you loved your side hustle.

A relationship of sorts has bloomed with Jaemin, regaining the same friendship the two of you adored from a year ago. Yet something more in the air.

You smile to yourself at the thought, forgiving him for his antics. Brought back to reality at the male next to you when he tucks his head into your shoulder.

"What now, Nana?" You appease him.

He pulls out the same trinket out of his jacket pocket. "Will you wear the cat ears just once, please?" He begs with a baby voice, eyes shining in a childish manner.

You roll your eyes, giving into the absolute heartthrob that's attached to you. Hating but accepting the fact that you'd pretty much do anything for him.

When you put on the cat headband he coos and claps, patting your head like an actual animal before pulling out his phone. Screen shooting a noise reminiscent of the first picture he took at the back alley of the cafe.

"Fucking weirdo." You grunt at him.

"Hey," He sulks, soothing circles into your neck. "Better to be my pet than the Dean's Pet, right?"

Your eyelids flicker in feigned annoyance, unable to help it before smooching him obnoxiously. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

end

────── 〔✿〕──────

author's note: thank u for reading <3

ps to all my weebs— shoutout to usui

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achaoticeternal · 2 years

Text

𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲

druig x avengers!reader

summary: a charity gala at the former Stark Tower offers you a chance meeting with an Eternal and a dance with temptation. word count: 2.3k wanings: mild language, implied smut, flirty druig a/n: uh oh... mattie got a little excited and let it all out. not edited.

NEW YORK 2023

It was a chill evening as you peered out of the crystal windows of the grand tower, reminiscing on the past. It had been months since you had lost many of your friends and now the places you once called home felt lonely. The Avengers Compound and Tower rarely housed any guests besides yourself and occasionally Bruce and Peter when they ever felt like popping by.

Yet tonight, the Tower where you once celebrated great victories was filled with socialites and celebrities who could only talk about how honored they were to be invited. You knew that they were just trying to be courteous, but they would never understand the sacrifices you had all made. Living in a post-Blip world was strange and interesting to navigate as everyone questioned who would be there to help with a lack of Avengers.

"Hey, have you seen May?" Peter tapped your shoulder and greeted you with a hug.

"Where have you been, Parker? You said that you weren't going to leave my side, and instead, you show up an hour late," you whined, punching his arm playfully.

"Hey! I'm sorry, I walked with MJ to make sure she got home safely."

"Okay, but you better go find May and change into your suit. She has been delaying Spiderman's arrival for twenty minutes," You shoved him over to the backstage area.

"Okay, okay," Peter chuckled and turned to you really quick, "(Y/N), I need you to promise me something."

"What's up?" You raised a brow at him.

A grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly with endearment, "Please, try to have a fun night. I know it has been rough, believe me, but please smile and enjoy yourself."

You offered him a soft smile but he could still see a pang of sadness in your eyes, "I'll try, Peter... Now go before May comes hunting for you!"

He smiled and ran off to find his aunt. After so many charity events raising money to assist those displaced after the Blip, it was funny how formalities slipped his mind. You couldn't really complain though; Peter helped keep you sane when people brought up the future of the team or their grief for the lost heroes.

You swayed your way over to the open bar, bidding hellos and flashing smiles as people greeted you. No wonder Tony was never sober for anything, people were annoying. You were refiling your glass with champagne when someone bumped your hip.

You turned your head to mind the stranger but instead, you were met with an old friend, "Kingo!"

With a great smile on your face, you gave him a hug and exchanged hello's. It had been a couple years since you had last seen the movie star, but you really couldn't complain. Back when you were first recruited to join the Avengers, you were sent with Thor and Bruce to India and met Kingo who apparently was a friend of Thor's. You never really got the full story from either of them, but you and Kingo had immediately clicked.

"How are you doing? I mean, outside of... you know," he asked, smiling. You nodded your head, understanding his implication.

"I've been okay, I've been refocusing and trying to help displaced citizens and refugees. But how is Bollywood?"

"Oh, it's great, it's great. I'm actually starting shooting for a new movie in a few weeks that I can't wait for you to see. But I actually have some old... college friends that I would love for you to meet. They are huge fans of your work," He smiled and ushered you over to a large corner booth where a few people sat chatting with each other.

He pointed around the table introducing each of them, "The ginger is Sprite, she can be quite the hothead; those two lovers are Sersi and Dane, beautiful couple; that is Makkari, one of the coolest people alive; and wearing all black - once again is Druig."

You smiled at each of them and nodded yet when your eyes met Druig's ocean blue ones, you felt entranced by them. Though he was wearing all black, it was still a nice all-black three-piece suit that was tailored quite well. Yet when you met his eyes again, you could see the smug smirk on his face - oh, he's trouble.

Druig appeared to be stoic, but still suave. Though his face gave no expression of what he thought, he eyes could betray him. He seemed to be a man of few words, and still a man who loved power and control. You had met many a man like him and would meet many more.

Quickly, you turned your attention back to the group as a whole, "It's really great to meet all of you. Any friend of Kingo's is a friend of mine!"

You continued chatting with Kingo’s friends, learning about where they currently lived and what they did for work. It was small talk - yes - but you felt quite comfortable talking with them instead of surrounding yourself with gossiping reporters. Yet, you always felt Druig’s blue eyes focused on you.

“Ladies and gentlemen - we proudly present the NYPD band,” Happy announced and the band began to strike up with a bright swing.

Couples and friends made their way to the open floor; hands touching hands, cheeks touching cheeks. A smile graced your face and a hand presented itself to you. You turned your head to see Kingo offering to take you to the floor, “may I have this dance?”

Resting your hand in his, you giggled at his cheesiness, “yes, you may.”

As the two of you made your way to the dance floor to sway amidst the couples, Kingo’s friends began to whisper amongst themselves. They all admired you and your closeness with Kingo, yet they all senses the immediate attraction Druig had. His whole demeanor had shifted when you approached the table and the way he practically gawked at you also indicated his interest. Yet Druig didn’t join in the conversation until Sprite made a taunting remark.

“So are you gonna stare at her all night or are you planning to make a move?” The young-looking Eternal quipped, “I mean, I don’t know if stalker chic is really the best option for you.”

This comment caused Dane and Sersi to laugh as Druig just scowled. He would love to get to know you better if Sprite wasn’t around to ruin things for him. Makkari tapped his shoulder and signed to him, Ask her for the next dance. The worst thing that could happen is for her to say no.

He let out a light sigh, knowing that he should take his peers' advice. His eyes shifted back over to your form that practically glided across the floor. You looked like what the humans would call an angel as you smiled and laughed in response to whatever Kingo said. The song was coming to an end and Druig knew that he needed to act quick before you left or someone else snatched you away. He could sense the eyes of others looking at you, longing to take you into their arms.

Swiftly, Druig rose from the table, ignoring the commentary of his peers. He weaved through conversations and couples, only to meet you and Kingo at the edge of the floor. Both of you sipped on warm champagne, acknowledging Druig when he finally spoke, “Would I be able to steal you away for a dance?”

Your eyes glanced over to Kingo, not for approval, but for opinion. It would be a shame to overstep any boundaries he could have, and you appreciated the opinion of a dear friend. Kingo replied with a smirk and short nod.

“Y’know, dancing is a dangerous game,” you bit your lip softly, resting your palm in his.

Though he kept the same stoic demeanor, you could hear the smirk in his voice when he responded, "Then let's play."

Passing your glass off to Kingo, you allowed Druig to lead you into the near center of the floor. He pulled you in closer to him, adjusting your right hand in his before placing his warm hand in the little space between your hip and waist. The intimacy of this moment caused your breath to hitch in your throat and a chill to run up your spine.

You had only known this man for thirty minutes, but you were willing to let him into your bed. To let him bring the light back into your dreary life and maybe stop running away from what the world truly was.

With a final tug closer to his heat, Druig lead you into a swinging waltz as the jazz band became steady with the beat. His eyes were locked on yours and his expression never changed, only flickers of emotion passed through his baby blue eyes. Eyes that enchanted you to stay by his side for the rest of the night.

Maybe your first impression of him wasn't completely accurate. You could feel his lust for control, yet it wasn't belittling. No - it was far more complex than that. He was far more complex than that.

"Are you familiar with this song?" Druig asked, breaking your trance. You tuned your ears to listen closely to the melody that drifted through the air. When the crooner began to sing, the lyrics finally dawned on you that you did in fact know this song.

"In fact, I do," You smiled, cheeks warming, "So In Love by Cole Porter, but I prefer the Tony Bennett cover."

"So you're a fan of the classics?"

Druig twirled you around then pulled you back towards him, resting his hand a little lower. The thrill of the dance was infectious and made your heartbeat pick up, "Call me a romantic, but yes."

You couldn't get enough of each other, and even though you danced among crowded couples, it still felt like it was just the two of you. His nose brushed against your own, and you took it as a sign to rest your forehead against his. Your eyes fluttered close and you just absorbed the moment into your memory. Never in your life had to felt so calm yet so excited by someone's presence, and for the feeling to be towards a man you had barely known an hour ago. This was dangerous, but you had no plan of letting go yet.

As the song drew to a close, you could feel the energy of other people around you fleeing from the floor. Regretfully, you opened your eyes, signaling to Druig that both of you should escape to the floor before anyone dare glance at the intimate moment taking place.

Releasing a warm breath that fanned across your lips, he escorted you off the floor. Your eyes darted for an escape, nervous to get caught in the trap he laid before you. As soon as your feet tapped against the normal floors of the tower, you offered Druig a grin before you dissipated into the crowd.

Minutes later, you stood out on the balcony to catch your breath. This was a behavior that you never allowed to guide you, it wasn't like you to be so openly intimate. One might consider you a con artist in the way you made attachments or how you muddled in others' affairs. After losing so much, it was easier to swindle what you desired most; but with Druig, he could freely give it all to you.

On the streets below, you watched as the guests began to leave the tower in groups, only to return to their upper-class penthouse apartments and countryside mansions. These were the fools that you were a kin to. This was your safety net and your playing ground.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to share one last drink before the night came to a close," A glass of champagne presented itself in front of you. His heat radiated off of him and was a stark contrast to the New York Chill, while Druig's other hand rested on your hip.

Taking the neck of the glass between your fingers, you crooked your head to look at him. His head levitated above your shoulder, searching your eyes for the same semblance of intimacy you shared earlier. Your lips parted to speak, yet no words fell from them. His intoxicating presence kept you stuck in place, eyes flicking between his ocean blue eyes and his lips.

Understanding your silent tongue, Druig ghosted a kiss over your exposed shoulder before leaning into you. Falling into the motion, you closed your eyes, bracing yourself. But no contact came, you opened your eyes to see Druig smirking. Your furrowed your brows and left out a frustrated breath. You went to tell him off, but before you could form the first syllable, Druig pressed his lips to yours, swallowing away your words.

You kissed him back feverishly, turning your body to be closer to him. His arms wrapped around your lower waist, while you tangled your limbs around his neck, clutching onto your glass for dear life. This was want, this was need, this could be love.

The two of you only pulled apart when all the oxygen had escaped your lungs. Your foreheads rested against each other like earlier and you silently thanked whoever was watching over you for such a chance meeting. You lifted your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling out of his arms. Yet your fingers lingered in his and a seductive smile painted your lips, "Y'know, I'd love to give you a personal tour of my floor of the tower."

The pair of you giggled like teenagers, running to the elevator and crowds continued to escape from the tower. None of them knew of the lovers that were dancing with temptation up in the highrise and the mischief they could cause.

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leahblackk · 3 years

Text

I only bought this dress (So you could take it off)

(The gif is not mine. Whoever made it thank you)

Summary: Reader has been in love with Spencer Reid for way too long, and she has to take it off her chest and there’s just one way to do so.

Warnings: 16+, hints to sexual activities, mentions of alcohol.

Couple: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Word count: 2731 words (or so)

Tagging: @doctorspenceryeet, @ssavanessa22, @alexontheinternet and @all-tings-diego if you wanna join my taglist please press the butterfly -> 🦋

Y/n doesn't exactly remember the exact moment when she fell for him.

It was tricky to decide, and if you ask her, she can give you many moments where she knew she had fallen, but none of them was the exact moment. She had been in love with him for two years already, and two years of being his best friend.

The world is full of clichés but nothing like the classic "I'm in love with my best friend" one. She had read that cliché in her life thousands of times and even watched movies about it, but nothing seemed like the pure reality of what she lives in.

But who couldn't fall for him? That was the real question. She knew many people liked him, and even fell in love with him. He was kind, intelligent, funny, interesting, caring, and the list goes on and on.

Maybe it was his golden eyes… those full of sparkles, and you could get lost in them, made of pure gold, or perhaps those golden curls, his golden-brown curls she wished to touch all the time, and she had, and they felt like clouds. They were the softest, and he smelled like apples and vanilla. The angels sighed every time she thought about doctor Spencer Walter Reid.

He made all the love songs make sense.

Sometimes I wonder; when you sleep Are you ever dreaming of me? Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years? Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home

He built a fire just to keep me warm All the drama queens taking swings All the jokers dressin' up as kings They fade to nothing when I look at him

Yeah, he made all those lyrics have a reason and feeling, and even a name. She never thought she would feel this way about someone, mostly someone who she wasn't sure if the love was reciprocated. It hurts to think that maybe she's the only one with these thoughts, the only one who melts down, and the gold rush comes in every time he walks by, his curls falling down… he was a daydream.

She sighs and shakes her head, looking down at her desk and her work, something she hasn't even started because she was in Loveland.

"Hey, pretty girl," Morgan greets with a smile.

"Hey," she smiles, looking up at him.

Morgan sits on her desk, looking down at her paperwork, "The surprise party for you know who is still in line, right?" Morgan asks, whispering so pretty you know who doesn't hear.

She nods, "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know. I was just wondering if I could take my plus one…" he innocently smiles at her.

Y/n rests her back on the chair and crosses her arms with a suspicious smile, and she knows Derek Morgan. He doesn't take his usual, nothing serious dates to family events.

Family events, as in Spencer's birthday was coming, and Y/n wanted to make him a proper surprise party because Spencer deserved to know he was loved and because he never had one.

"So, who is she?"

Derek sighs, "Her name is Savannah, and I really like her, she wants to meet you guys."

"Hello," the beautiful and unique voice of doctor Reid does its appearance behind Morgan, quickly smiling at the girl, but it's enough for her heart to start beating faster. "What are we talking about?"

"Morgan has a girlfriend," Y/n softly sings, and Derek rolls his eyes.

"Oh, a girlfriend," Reid says, crossing his arms just like the girl.

Morgan lifts his arms in a sign of innocence and stands up to leave, "I can't talk to you guys," he says, turning around and walking away.

Spencer frowns with a soft smile while Y/n laughs, "She can come, though," she says.

"Where?" Spencer asks, looking at her.

"Inquisitive mind, doctor Reid," Y/n says before grabbing the papers starting to work.

"Oh, come on… I need to know."

"Secrets secrets, who would we be without them?"

Spencer opens his mouth in disbelief, "You're my best friend, you can't keep secrets from me."

Oh, only if he knew.

"You'd be surprised," she teased.

"Y/n," Spencer warns.

"Spencer," she says back, looking at him.

"Which secrets are you keeping from me?"

The only one is that I've loved you for two years.

"None."

He narrows his eyes, "Fine, this is how you want it to be then," he says, sitting on his desk, next to hers.

"I don't want anything."

"Mhm," Spencer says without looking at her and finishing his paperwork.

She laughs at his reaction, Spencer tries to keep the smile in. He can't pretend to be mad at her, not when she laughs. He shakes his head and tries to keep a straight face, finishing his paperwork.

Y/n stares at him for a little longer, the way he's biting his lips, so he can't let a laugh out, his cheeks blushed, and he moves his nose, his little tic she had been obsessed with. The way his hands and eyes move doing his work and a slight frown on his face. He's perfect.

"You're staring," he speaks.

"Oh, I'm sorry, your majesty," she teases and rolls her eyes at him, hiding the warm feeling of her face from being caught.

"Yeah, that's right. Call me your king."

She almost chokes, but tries to hide it behind a frown," When did you become cocky all of a sudden?"

He shrugs, "It's always been there, I guess, angel," he looks at her and winks.

She rolls her eyes while he's laughing, and she looks down.

She wishes to be called angel by him, and not be a joke or teasing.

He's been calling her angel for way too long, but she knows he doesn't mean it, and it hurts her, but sometimes she pretends, and pretend it's better than the truth.

…

"So what are you gonna wear for pretty boy's birthday?" Penelope says.

Y/n frowns, "Why would I wear something special?"

Garcia rolls her eyes, "Cause it's your man's birthday, duh."

Y/n chuckled, "Yeah, because Spencer Reid is in love with me."

"Well, he is!" She said like it was the most obvious thing ever said.

"He's not... He's my best friend."

"Yeah, but you don't want him just like a best friend."

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean he feels the same," Y/n said, getting annoyed with the subject.

Talking about Spencer's feelings and what he might or might not feel whatsoever made her really sad. It hurt her like a knife digging into her skin. She came to terms he doesn't, and will never feel what she does for him, and she was fine with it, yeah, it hurts her, but she can't do anything about it.

Pen looked at her with disbelief in her eyes, "Y/n come on."

Y/n rolled her eyes, "Can we please stop this conversation?"

Pen sighs, "Alright, alright."

The two women were in Y/n's apartment getting some things ready for the special day, while they drank a little bit of wine, or well, Penelope did.

Y/n's phone buzzed. She picked it up and smiled.

Spencer: I'm gonna know your secret, angel.

Y/n: Yeah, I wanna see you try, pretty boy.

Penelope saw the little smile on her friend's face and the light-up face with sparkly eyes. She knew who was on the other side of the line, who was texting her. The smile and love on her face were pretty obvious, Pen smiled for herself, knowing the love she had for him. It was like a kid seeing the Christmas light of a village for the first time, like eating your favourite food… It was like those sweet memories deep down. She loved Spencer, and it was so obvious for everyone but him.

At the end of the night, Y/n couldn't decide between all the dresses she bought, even though she said to Penelope her clothes weren't as important, that was a lie, maybe for everyone else but mostly for herself, to be completely sincere, she wanted to look pretty for him, for his special day so he can have his eyes on her, that's all she ever wanted.

She looked at the dresses, they all seemed dull, except one.

A thigh red dress, which gave her mind the time and place to wander between thoughts and memories, to one specific.

"You look gorgeous in red," That was the voice of the young doctor, "Red is your colour," he added.

Red was her colour, and that was what he thought.

Red was her colour.

And without any more thoughts, she knew that one was the dress.

She smiled, she wished for him to notice her specific election of colours.

…

The moon shone above the clouds, and the wind blew on her hair, making a path of goosebumps all over her delicate skin. The night was finally there, and she couldn't be more nervous and excited. She made sure everything was perfect for him. Everything had to be perfect for him.

Derek was the one with the assignment of bringing Spencer to the place, one she knew Spencer liked once they went to an event together. It wasn't huge, it was rather more personal, and only his family were there, the team who loved him so much, and her who loved him more than anything.

The decorations with tenuous lights because bright ones hurt the doctor's eyes, the music wasn't loud, and his favourite food was in place.

"You did a great job," JJ approached the woman who was dying of anxiety.

Y/n smiled, "I just hope he enjoys it."

That's all she ever wanted.

JJ smiled, "Oh, as long as you are in the place, he will," she winked and left to go to Will.

Y/n frowned, not knowing what that meant, but she couldn't think too much about it because Penelope walked rapidly, "They're here," she announced, and everyone went to their place.

The girl wiped the sweat out of her hands on the soft fabric of the dress while her heart beat faster and faster, wanting to get out of her chest.

"I don't know why we are here, Morgan. I don't like social events…." Spencer complains.

Y/n smiled hearing his voice, and all her worries and anxiety faded away.

"I'm pretty sure you're gonna like this one," Morgan said while they both entered the room.

"Surprise!" Everyone said, and Spencer slightly jumped to smile then, looking over at his family.

But his eyes only looked for once, and he had a few seconds knowledge where she was before JJ hugged him thigh, and he hugged her, and when he thought he would finally go to the pretty girl with the red dress, everyone else went and hugged him, congratulating him for one more year on earth.

He sighed when there was no one else to hug, and walked where Y/n was, "Pen said you did this all for me," he spoke.

She shrugged, "You once said you never had a surprise party, and I couldn't live with that fact."

Spencer smiled at her words, looking at her eyes and down at her dress, she was wearing red, and she damn owns that colour, his cheeks blushed, almost matching her clothes, "You, uh, you look gorgeous… You look great in red."

She felt her cheeks getting warmer, "Thank you," she softly spoke before they were interrupted.

"Time to sing!" Penelope excitedly said.

…

A bunch of songs later, and even more shots drank, people drunkenly singing, Morgan finished his serenade to his girlfriend, who looked at him with a smile. She was the sweetest.

"Now I'm gonna give space to the one who made this possible, please make some noise for agent Y/n Y/L," Morgan said, and some whistling were heard in the place.

She rolled her eyes and stepped on the stage, taking the mic in her hands, she felt nervous, but at the end of the night, it was her family.

Spencer smiled from his table. She looked beautiful.

She sighed and lifted the mic to her lips, "So I first wanted to say to doctor Spencer Reid here, happy birthday and thank you for pulling up with me all these years," she chuckled, and Spencer smiled with blushed cheeks looking down, "You mean the absolute world to me and, I'm so proud of you."

"Yes, right there," Penelope drunkenly exclaimed, making everyone else laugh.

The girl shook her head, "I'm not a great singer, but it's Taylor Swift, and this song means too much to me, more than I could ever explain with simple words."

It was the time.

Our secret moments in your crowded room They've got no idea about me, and you There is an indentation in the shape of you Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah) All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting My hands are shaking from holding back from all this (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Everyone was too drunk even to notice the lyrics and the meaning behind the song, all of them but him and her.

She looked at him, who had a frown trying to understand what that whole thing meant. He wasn't good with hints, yet what was about to happen was the confirmation of his suspicion.

Say my name, and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off Take it off

Everyone thinks that they know us, but they know nothing about

Say my name, and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off Take it off

…

Y/n successfully avoided Spencer for the rest of the night, it wasn't that difficult due Pen and Morgan being all over him telling him how much they loved him, and she was busy talking to Blake and Savannah, but they were some glances, some stares that said more than words, but it wasn't enough.

Everyone left, or that was what she thought.

She picked cups and organised the place, "You mean it?" Spencer asked.

She jumped in her place, she thought she was alone, "You scared me… I thought you left."

"I couldn't… not without answers," He spoke, stepping closer to her, "I know I'm not good with social cues, or with hints, but you looked at me dead in the eyes when you said those words."

"Spencer-"

"I'm not finished," he said, and she nodded, "Tell me now, did you actually buy that dress so I could take it off? Because if I'm being honest, that was the only thing I thought throughout the night, but if I'm mistaken and you didn't mean what the song said, I can leave now, and we can forget about this because either way, I don't wanna lose you."

She couldn't speak, she wanted to let the confirmation out, but her voice wasn't working.

Spencer nodded, taking that as his answer, and turned around to leave.

"Spencer," she said.

He looked back at her.

"I don't want you like a best friend, and I only bought this dress so you could take it off."

Spencer smiled, walking to her, "I don't wanna disappoint you then, angel."

Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me Flashback to my mistakes My rebounds, my earthquakes Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth of me And I woke up just in time Now I wake up by your side My one and only, my lifeline I woke up just in time Now I wake up by your side My hands shake, I can't explain this

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #Spencer x you #spencer x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #spencer reid self insert #dr Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid fic #spencer fanfic

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

Inevitable (02) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, explicit sexual content in future chapters (oral, unprotected sex but be safe please!)

Chapter Word count: 7.2k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: So appreciative of your love for this story! I’m quite nervous with this one because I had to make changes last minute so I hope you still enjoy it. Also, you can message me if you want to be part of the taglist (or if I missed tagging you)!

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“Thank you again, Mr. Jeon. Quite frankly, this still feels surreal but we’re so glad you’re back.”

Jungkook bows at the man, one of the executives of the Doosan Bears, one he’d just had a meeting with, which followed an interview with a sports writer.

For the past week, Jungkook’s days have been filled with meeting and talking to many people, forcing smiles and making conversations that quite frankly tire him but he welcomes this, knowing that any beat of silence will just force his mind to settle on you. And his pain. And his anger.

The man stops him in the hallway to point at a frame of the elder Jeon holding up the team’s 1999 championship trophy.

“Hopefully you’ll have one, too, and we’ll place it right next to this,” he says, a statement that Jungkook’s been hearing in a variety of forms the past few days of interviews and appearances.

It’s different this time because his father had achieved so many things back here, a national hero if people wanted to stretch it. Here, Jungkook has to live up to expectations, which many people believe he’ll exceed. His father, a good player and an even better leader, had been loved by many in the sports world, and it’s an honor they get to watch Jungkook play in the flesh, reminiscent of the man that many adored.

In the US, they didn’t know his father, so Jungkook was able to pave his own path there, make a name for himself guided only by the thought and dream of his hero, and not living in his shadow. It’s a dream they shared and one he’d achieved.

But for the first time, it doesn’t comfort Jungkook. For the first time, it angers him. It’s that dream that took you away from him, that took Jungwon away from him. It’s this dream that essentially broke his heart in ways he never imagined.

Everyone is quiet as they absorb everything that Jungkook has said. Since that day at your apartment, he’d been radio silent when it came to his friends, but he’s here at Jin’s loft now, with Jimin whom he’s still cold towards, and Yoongi and Hoseok who complete the group, as they’re Jin’s and Namjoon’s friends from college who’d gotten close to the young ones, too.

They’re glad they finally have the time to just be together after a crazy week. Ironically, it’s a somber event. This isn’t how they imagined welcoming the young one home.

They’re incomplete though. By nature of the concern at hand, Taehyung isn’t around; he’d left the group chat anyway so he wouldn’t have known that Jungkook messaged - finally, after a week of bombarding everyone with messages about you only to stop after he stormed out of your apartment. Namjoon is also not here, still not checking their group chat.

“Wow, I can’t believe ___ was pregnant all that time and had been able to keep the kid from us for years,” Hoseok finally speaks up, shock still evident in his voice. He’d been the one most vocal in stating what everyone else was thinking, the rest opting to just shut up and leave the talking to Jungkook, who’s now allowed himself to once again feel all the emotions in the presence of his friends.

They know that very little things get to him - whether they’re external stressors, outside pressure, naysayers, envious people, or school, he’d always been able to manage them.

He rarely gets angry, too, and doesn’t really let negative feelings fester, so Jungkook with a piercing gaze, pursed lips, flared nostrils, and clenched fists, as he is right now, is an unfamiliar sight to them.

And it’s all because of you.

Jungkook never took the very few relationships he had before you seriously; he’d been too focused on the sport ever since he was a kid.

But you captured him immediately and since that day at the field when he’d thrown a baseball and almost hit Taehyung on the arm and you’d shouted at Jungkook relentlessly for being a careless jerk, he knew that he’d want to shut you up with kisses just so you could get mad at him again.

He’d been a cheeky sophomore then, enjoying the bit of popularity he was gaining in Seoul for being an immediate standout of their university’s baseball team - the Pride of Busan, he’d been called - and he hadn’t expected this beautiful woman to almost knock him out for almost hitting her friend, even if Taehyung had been adamant that the hit was several centimeters off.

“I have better aim than that,” Jungkook had told you smugly, and his heart fluttered at the gagging face you made.

He wasn’t usually that bold but he felt it was worth it, especially if it was to see you scowl then try to hide a smile after. It took a few days until you’d given him more than 5 minutes of your time, then another few weeks before you finally agreed to a date, and then just two months to convince you that he was definitely worthy to be something more.

You both knew you’d fallen in love with each other even before either of you said it, the words always catching in your throats whenever you tried, but then he finally did, and he was over the moon when you’d said it back and he’d never been happier.

Even when you walked out that door and out of his life that December evening, he’d held onto you, your lingering presence enough for you to still be his anchor, his love, his guiding light.

He never thought that at one point, he’d beg for that to not be you. Just the thought of you sends him into a spiral, not of heartbreak or despair like before, he reckons that was even better; but of the feeling of resentment and betrayal.

Everyone’s chatter faints into background noise for a while, with Jungkook’s friends saying maybe you’d come back to Seoul only recently, hearing from Namjoon that you stayed in Daejeon with your cousin to work at a tech company. It had been a mystery how none of them caught up sooner, having only seen you twice a year at most and not knowing anything else.

“Ask Jimin,” Jungkook chimes in bitterly. “He was in on it anyway.”

The three older men turn to the man in question, Jimin meeting their curious gazes with a guilty look, knowing at some point Jungkook would grill him.

“Remember that woman I dated two years ago, the teacher?” He sighs.

Everyone nods.

“I surprised her one time at the daycare center where she was working. That’s how I bumped into ___. It was pretty obvious at first glance that Jungwon is Kook’s kid. I mean,” Jimin smiles, thinking about the little boy who’s taken his heart as well, reminding him of the best parts of Jungkook that's laid dormant for years. “Wide eyes, shy smile, puffy cheeks and soft features. It was unmistakable.”

Jimin remembers that day well, how flustered you’d been, arriving at the daycare an hour late and profusely apologizing to the staff. He’d stopped you then, his shocked face enough to let you know what he was thinking as you held the boy in your arms. It didn’t take long for you to tell him the truth, begging him not to tell his best friend.

“He’s finally playing in the major league, Jimin. There are too many good things going on for him there. I mean he— he’s happy. It won’t do good for me to tell him now,” you’d told him.

Jimin could’ve pressed more, should’ve gone to the root of your decision to hide it in the first place, or maybe even convinced you to tell Jungkook the truth, but you looked too stressed, a permanent fixture on your face, he thought, and he didn’t want to push it.

So he left it at that, knowing as well that between the pressure to do well and the rumors going around, this type of news would be a big hit to Jungkook. Ultimately, Jimin didn’t think it was his place to meddle; the most he could do was support you any way he could.

“How is he, the kid?” Jin questions, knowing his cousin would want to know but is too stubborn and angry to ask.

“The sweetest,” Jimin beams. “He’s pretty shy but becomes playful once he’s warmed up to you. He’s smart, just like ___, and is so caring, he's very affectionate and even talks to insects and—“ he pauses, as Yoongi nudges his knee and motions for him to stop.

Jungkook is still, jaws clenched again at the thought that these are things he doesn’t know and for obvious reasons. Thinking about how Taehyung and Jimin have done so much more for and with his own kid hurts him.

He loves his friends, knows he should be thankful that they’d been there for you and Jungwon but he can’t shake off the frustration, the jealousy. He wonders if any other man had the privilege of getting to know his son that way, of getting close to him.

He wonders, too, if any other man had gotten close to you. That’s a pang in his chest he doesn’t want to dwell on.

“Look, I’m really sorry, Kook. But a lot of things were happening with you then, too and I didn’t want to just drop that news to you. It would have been too much and—“

“You too?” Jungkook huffs. “I fucking hate it when people think they can just decide on such things about my life without me having a say. Wouldn't that piss you off if it happened to you?”

He’s met with silence.

It’s what gets him, really, the fact that people he trusted couldn’t afford him the decency of letting him decide, of trusting him that whatever happens, he was gonna figure it out.

“Wanna know what I think?” Yoongi speaks up.

“No,” Jungkook responds.

“That was hypothetical,” Yoongi says and shifts in his seat. “We all know ___. She’s very self-assured, sometimes to a fault, but she’s not rash, she’s not selfish. She might have decided on her own but it doesn’t mean she didn’t consider you.”

“She still should’ve talked to me about it. It was too big of a decision to not include me in it,” Jungkook retorts.

“But she was right, wasn’t she? You would have stayed. She knows you too well that you would’ve given up everything.”

“Why does everyone make it sound so bad? Of course I would’ve. That’s my son! I’m not the kind of person who would turn his back on that responsibility,” Jungkook bites back.

“It isn’t bad, but that’s precisely the point. Did you ask yourself why she thought it was worth it? Why she believed that the better option was to not be truthful for as long as you got to live out your dream? For as long as you got to reap the benefits of what you’ve worked so hard for?” Yoongi posits.

Jungkook stills, lips starting to quiver as he processes his friend’s questions.

“Baseball has always been your whole world, Jungkook. She shared you with it. It was all you talked about - the dream, what it meant to you, the connection with your father, the joy you’d feel when playing and hearing the cheers… We knew that, she knew that,” Yoongi continues.

“Your dream made you, Kook. It was all you knew, and she never complained. She loved you the same. And even with all your anger towards her right now, you know she wouldn’t try to take that dream away from you. Even if it means hurting both of you in the process.”

“But she meant so much to me, too. I would’ve done anything for her, and I thought she knew that,” Jungkook whimpers. He’d never once doubted what he felt for you and he always thought it was enough.

“Yeah, but do you think that was her first thought when she found out she was pregnant? That you’d give up your dream for her without any consequences down the line? She knew you would’ve stayed because you’re the kind of person to do that, but she also knew what that would mean, what that would do to you, and what that would do to them.”

Yoongi, ever the wise one of the group, makes everyone think.

The silence is deafening, but Jungkook doesn’t miss the way the guys have taken to slight nods and furrowed brows.

“Baseball was too important to you. She probably believed you’d lose more if you didn’t take the opportunity then. Not being there for her and your son was something she maybe thought you could always make up for,” Yoongi states.

Of your brother’s friends, Yoongi had always been the one you were closest to, spent the most nights at parties with, talking and agreeing on things. This is probably why he gets it, gets why you felt like you had to do what you did.

“Kook, don’t think she never planned on telling you. She never meant to keep it a secret forever,” Jimin says, recalling your claims that you just needed the right time to eventually tell Jungkook. “Maybe that’s why you’re even more frustrated; maybe you think she never wanted to involve you. Of course she does. You were her whole world and—“

“Baseball was mine,” Jungkook finishes, resigning to the idea that that's what you always thought, and you weren’t wrong. “She thinks I’d resent them down the road if I stayed and gave up on my dream.”

“I love you, Kook, but that fear is valid,” Jin says. “I’m not saying I agree with her decision but I think I get where she’s coming from.”

“But hey, you have all the right to be angry,” Hoseok says, disrupting the silence that’s enveloped everyone again. “Just don’t be so consumed by it, okay? You’re back, you have more of a reason to stay, so just think of where you need to go from here. You have all of us, you and ___ and Jungwon have all of us.”

Jungkook wipes off the tears that have silently fallen down his cheeks, the most he’s cried in front of his friends in years. It had been a change on his end after the break up - the walls he put up, the control he had over his emotions, the once soft heart hardening in places to make sure he wouldn’t hurt as much again. He hates to admit that it had all been because of you.

Jin’s phone rings and cuts through the silence that’s tainted with short sniffles.

“Namjoon saw the chat, wonders if he could come,” Jin asks.

“No need, I’m gonna leave soon,” Jungkook responds.

Jin relays the message to Namjoon who sends his own, then finishes the call.

“He said he wants to check up on you, too. You should meet up with him, I think it’d be good. It’s Namjoon, Kook. He loves his sister to death but you know he’ll be objective about it, too. Think about it, okay?”

Jungkook nods then lets some time pass before he leaves.

He thinks about it that night until the wee hours of the morning. For the first time, he thinks about what you felt the moment you found out, about what you were feeling and thinking that led you to decide to break up, and if you really planned on making him believe that you didn’t think it’d work out to cover up the truth.

Everything the guys said tonight rings in his head. What made you think this was the better option? What made you think he’d lose more if he gave up on the dream instead of being in your and Jungwon’s life? Why did you think his dream was more important than his life with you? Why did you think he’d resent you down the road?

It’s not lost on him that his dream seemed to trump everything else. It would always go back to that, it would always be about that, how even during that life-changing moment of you finding out you were carrying his child, what you considered was him and baseball.

He recalls the days leading up to the break up, how your conversations had been about his move, but never about the two of you. He chalked it up to thinking it was a given, that of course you’d stay together. He never realized that it wasn’t actually clear to you; it had been a given to him but not to you.

Jungkook doesn’t remember fights about lack of time because of training, or him not being in the mood after a bad game. Everything you’ve ever been to him was patient, understanding, and accepting of the sport he’d dedicated his whole life to, like it was a given, like it was the most important thing, like it was the third party in your relationship. And you never complained.

He loved you for that and more, for the fighter that you were, for the strong and goal-oriented woman that you were, for the thoughtful and warm-hearted person you’ve always been. He loved you so much. He’d fallen so hard that he willingly gave you his heart and let you do whatever you wanted with it, as long you had it. Because of that, you hurt him so terribly, he didn’t know how he could recover.

He thinks now that maybe it was on him, too. Maybe he didn’t tell you enough just how much you meant to him. Maybe he could’ve done more, appreciated you more, or at least let you know that you were just as much a part of his plan the way baseball was.

Maybe then you would’ve trusted him that you two would work it out, that it would be okay if he had to let go of his dream to be the partner that you needed, to be the father you needed him to be for your child.

But maybe you both didn’t know any better, he also thinks. You were so young, maybe it was too much to ask you to trust him, maybe you were also right not to. He’d definitely grown up the past years, and maybe he wouldn’t have if you didn’t break his heart the way you did.

He thinks about how you’d been the past years, too, how you took care of Jungwon on your own, how hard it must’ve been for you. But any more and he knows he’ll break down, and he doesn’t trust himself doing that alone.

He sighs at all the thoughts in his head and his mixed emotions. But his friends are right. He’s home now - he has all the resources, the time - what matters is what happens next.

He wants to understand better, and to know what you went through but he can’t bring himself to ask you. He knows you’ll brush off the sacrifices, the struggles; you never wanted to make others see your vulnerability, know of your weakest moments. So he decides to ask someone else. It’s 4AM but he doesn’t care.

[To: Namjoon]: Can we meet up? Jin’s bar at 7pm. See you.

“Uncle Tete, I choose this one!” Jungwon excitedly says, pointing at a toy submarine on the shelf. Taehyung is quick to retrieve the item then puts it in the cart.

“Okay, what else does this muffin want?”

“Tae, I said one thing,” you sigh. “Also, can you make sure that toy doesn’t have removable parts so he doesn’t attract kind strangers to help him?”

Your best friend rolls his eyes but Jimin chuckles next to you. “___, that broken airplane brought you to Jungkook. Plus, Jungwon wandered away; imagine if some other stranger found him,” he says.

“Shut up, I’m traumatized. That wasn’t the best way to let Jungkook know. Plus, I was so flustered that I lied and said I was babysitting,” you groan to yourself. You always knew how to carry yourself but it was really only Jungkook who ever made you feel nervous.

“I made it seem like I really meant to lie and you know that’s not true. I just didn’t know he was gonna be back. And you didn’t tell me,” you glare at Jimin.

“You think I didn’t give him shit for not telling me?” He replies. “Only Jin knew. Even I didn’t think he’d actually sign with the Bears. Everything was so fast. Before I knew it, he was already boarding a plane back home.”

“Well, he did say he didn’t wanna bug you since you’ve been so busy with your show,” Tae says from the shelf next to you. “Jungwon wants this puppy towel, by the way. Can I buy it for him?”

“Tae, I said just one thing. Stop spoiling him. We’re supposed to buy his school supplies,” you whine.

“Right, his father’s gonna hate me even more,” he mumbles.

“Okay, muffin. Mama said just one thing. Let’s go look at crayons now,” Tae tells Jungwon who smiles back at him and agrees.

“How’s rehearsal by the way?” You ask Jimin.

“Good. Just a few more weeks and we’re ready to go,” he says, excited over the Swan Lake show that his company is putting on. You’re excited, too, certain he’s going to do well. Being a professional ballerina is so much work but he’s always exceeded expectations. You know it can get stressful so maybe that’s why Jungkook didn’t bother informing him earlier.

“You’re watching, okay? The first show and the last, it’s when everyone is watching, too,” he says.

“You don’t have to ask, Jimin. Of course, I’ll be there. Sucks that Jungwon won’t get to see his uncle perform though.”

“Okay, just making sure, since Jungkook is here and all.”

“You should ask him, then. He’s the one who detests me,” you sigh.

“He doesn’t detest you, ___. He’s just angry, and with reason.”

You don’t miss the stern tone of his voice. You always felt the disappointment that Jimin felt towards you with what happened, even stayed away for a while after the breakup. Moving back to your parents’ home had been a good escape, seeing as how you didn’t know how to face your friends after everything.

It wasn’t until 2 years ago when Jimin bumped into you at the daycare that you two got to talking again. You know he decided to stick around for Jungwon, but it always worried you that he’d eventually tell Jungkook but he never did, which you were thankful for.

“I never said it wasn’t justified. I mean, after last week, I hope he stays angry at me, you know? And for a long time. I deserve that.”

“Hey, don’t talk that way.”

“You think I’m wrong? That I don’t deserve his anger?”

Jimin sighs. The department store really isn’t the best place for this but he proceeds anyway.

“It’s not that. I mean, it’s one thing to hurt him by suddenly breaking up with. And I won’t lie to you, ___, you broke him. That night, I found him curled in a ball by the door, unmoving, kind of like how I used to find him when we were younger… after his dad died.”

You release a long breath, not even wanting to imagine a balled-up Jungkook, sobbing. You heard him that night, how he begged for you to please don’t go. You walked away from the closed door then, as any moment longer would’ve just made you take it back.

“But it’s also another thing to lie about his son,” Jimin continues.

“You know I had to do it; he wouldn’t have agreed to break up if I didn’t make him believe that I didn’t want him anymore. And I had to keep Jungwon from him because I couldn’t let him stay. I mean, Jungkook and I just couldn’t be together, it wasn’t that easy.“

“Weren’t there other options?” Jimin wonders. “Maybe like, I don’t know, going with him?”

He’d heard Jungkook mention in passing before about possibly asking you to go with him but he doesn’t know if his best friend ever got to ask.

No one really knows what happened that night; Jungkook never said anything more than it’s over. No explanations, no follow-ups. Three days later, he talked to the school administration and requested for an early completion of his requirements so he could leave for the US as soon as possible.

“It never really entered my mind… I mean, I got pregnant after the deal was finalized and that was not an option at all,” you explain. “It would’ve been too hard, too scary. I mean, we were still so young and to be in a foreign place, by ourselves, with a child? And we were just together for 2 years, that would’ve been a huge step and—“

“Did you doubt what he felt?”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk as if you didn’t think you were ready as a couple for that step. You two loved each other so much. He loved you so, so much, ___. Doesn’t matter how hard things would’ve been, he would’ve done everything he could to make sure you two would make it, he would’ve done whatever he needed to make you happy.”

“It’s not that simple, Jimin. He needed support there, needed someone to help him and make things easier, not someone - more like two people - to take care of and what would have I done for him? What would have I offered?”

“That wouldn’t have mattered though, right? He always wanted to make you happy, being with you would’ve been enough, I mean, he loved you that much.”

Jimin is met with silence, and it hits him what Yoongi was pointing out the night before, and it crushes him. Maybe if you knew just how much you mattered to Jungkook, maybe you would’ve trusted him, maybe you would’ve trusted the both of you.

You let out a deep sigh instead. You never doubted Jungkook’s love for you; you just knew there were other more important things, things he‘s dedicated much more time on, unlike you.

You shake the thoughts away. You know that dwelling on the what if’s won’t help your mind and your heart, especially now.

You and Jimin settle on watching Taehyung help Jungwon decide on which crayons and colored clay to choose for art class, smiling at the little boy who’s been nothing but the sweetest angel.

Your smile fades away though, at the thought of how it must be for him too, meeting all these men who always introduce themselves as his uncle, never his father.

Jungwon had asked you only twice - one time when he asked if he was made of magic because there was this older kid in the playground who said that her mommy and daddy made her but Jungwon didn’t have a daddy; the other time was more straightforward, just where is Papa.

That kind of pain is truly unmatched, you think, and you settle for telling the little kid that his Papa is somewhere doing good things but that Papa loves him even if he isn’t around. No promises, no false hope. You made the choice and your kid shouldn’t suffer too much for it - you know Jungkook would love him no matter what.

“How has Jungkook been, by the way? And I want the truth, Jimin,” you ask as you save your sad thoughts for another day.

Since you reconnected two years ago, you never really talked about Jungkook and Jimin had always made sure to only bring him up when you asked. Which was never.

Everything is now out in the open though so you think there’s no harm in asking.

“Like I said, you broke him,” he sighs. “He hasn’t really been the same. We were all so worried, that’s why Jin made sure to go with him when he left; it’s why I made sure to visit him twice a year. He just became different, you know? Like a light was put out.”

You let this process for a bit. It had been the same with you, only you had a child to remind you of Jungkook. It had been hard to get over him - you didn’t break up with him because you didn’t love him anymore, anyway; it was the opposite, in fact.

But you had to try to at least move on because at the back of your mind, you knew that things weren’t going to be the same after that. You knew Jungkook would never abandon your son, would never not love him; you are altogether a different story.

“He was doing pretty well though, wasn’t he?” You shift the discussion.

You recall having watched games for the first few years. He’d been signed to the affiliate team of the LA Dodgers and was playing in Oklahoma City. He was an immediate standout and was chosen by the major league team to play in the roster the year after. It was almost meteoric, considering that he was a foreigner and thus, largely unheard of, but he was in tip-top shape, eye-hand coordination impressive, batting skills a dream especially as a rookie, and ran like Flash that it was a nickname the locals used to call him.

“Oh, he was great. Even the man who scouted him didn’t think he would be that great. But that’s expected, I guess, if you spend every waking hour in the gym or in the batting cage, if you follow a strict and intense schedule even during the off-season, and if you have no distractions like friends or girlfriends,” Jimin explains, pointing out all the sacrifices behind the success.

“But Maia—”

“Was probably the first friend he made outside of his team. You’d expect her to be his girlfriend too, right?”

You pause at this. You knew that at some point, Jungkook would move on from you; you did make him believe you didn’t want to be with him anymore, anyway. Yet, it was still a bitter pill to swallow when you found out about his relationship. She was a model-actress, so her presence in the games would often cause a buzz.

“He just changed in a way. There were all these walls up, even from us. You took a very big piece of him, ___. I’m surprised he even got to recover. I was afraid he wasn’t gonna be able to move on from you.”

There’s a pang in your chest at the seeming finality of Jimin’s words. Of course Jungkook would move on from you, of course at one point he’d realize that things would be better without you. You just didn’t think it would hurt like this.

“That’s good for him, then.”

“Have you?”

“Yes, of course,” you say. You hope he doesn’t miss the uncertainty in your voice, that he doesn’t detect the lie.

Jungkook enters the venue and heads straight to the bar where Namjoon is already waiting.

“Scotch, please,” Jungkook calls to the bartender, earning him a remark from the older man about how even his alcoholic preference has upgraded.

“It’s smoother,” Jungkook says, fixing himself on the barstool.

There’s an air of silence between the two men that is almost uncomfortable.

It had never been like this. Namjoon is a protective brother but given that Jin is one of his good friends who’d vouched for the young man, it had been easy for Namjoon to go soft on Jungkook. He saw how much Jungkook cared for you, made you happy, and as your brother, he’ll always be grateful for that.

“How are you?” The older man asks, sipping on his Martini.

“Great. Just found out my ex-girlfriend was pregnant with our son whom I didn’t know existed until a week ago. You?”

“Not great. My parents have been calling me, asking how ___ is and how you are and if things are okay. Don’t exactly know how to break the news that things aren’t actually fine.”

“They must hate me, huh?”

“Nope. You know our parents always stayed out of our relationships. They always liked you, though. But is that what you really wanna know?”

Jungkook exhales, trying to calm himself. He had time to think things through, but facing the emotions had been difficult.

“I just wanna try to understand. I want so badly to justify what she did so I could stop being so angry. I just want to stop feeling… this,” he says, clutching his chest, lips quivering. “It hurts so bad, I just don’t want to feel this anymore.”

Namjoon weakens at the sight of Jungkook like this, desperate to feel something else other than pain, other than anger. He’d heard from Jin how it was so hard for the young man to accept losing you, and then all this? It’s a lot for one person to handle.

“She was so selfish, leaving me like that, thinking I would be okay on my own. And then I finally accepted what happened only to find out that we have a child all this time? Please, please make me understand,” he begs, eyes glassy now.

“Look,” Namjoon says, turning to Jungkook, who, even with his build, has never looked so small.

“I won’t defend her and say that I think she made the right decision. It’s just that she made the best decision she could make at that moment. She knew what was at stake and she felt that choice was the better one,” he explains, similar to what Yoongi had posited.

This is your brother who always had a good read of you and it’s the closest to your thoughts that Jungkook could get.

“She tried to comfort herself everyday by justifying what she did - that you did well, made it to the major league a year later. You did what you set out to do. And I’m sorry to bring this up but when your mother got sick, wasn’t it that you had enough to pay for it all? No debts, no added stress for her? Life was good for you and your mother. It wasn’t the best, but what if you had stayed?” He asks, the question ringing in his head.

How would things be if Jungkook stayed?

“Again, I’m not saying she was right, I’m just saying that things happened the way they did and she made a choice. Any other decision would’ve had other consequences and she made the one she could stand by, that she could live with. I mean, it was all she could do.”

Jungkook thinks about this, how he’d felt comforted, too that he was able to pay for all his mother’s medical bills when it got too much. But life wasn’t good; it was excruciating being away from you, thinking all that time that you really didn’t believe in the both of you, convinced that it wasn’t going to work out.

All he had was the love and joy he got from baseball; it had been enough for him that time. Of course, with what he knows now, it’s different.

Jungkook goes back to what Namjoon asked, about what he really wanted to know.

“Did… did she have a hard time?” Eyes pleading. “Tell me, please.”

Namjoon sighs at this, not knowing how to answer. “It wasn’t easy.”

“Don’t simplify it. I need… I need to know. I need to not feel this. I need to not be angry,” he says, voice strained.

“She won’t want your pity, Jungkook, you know her.”

“Please, Namjoon. You know she’ll never tell me. But I need to know.”

The older man lets out a deep breath, knowing that you indeed wouldn’t tell Jungkook any of this.

“She stayed with my parents in Ilsan after graduation. She was four months along then but was adamant about earning on her own so she took several jobs online. There was a lot of stress but that’s normal, I guess,” Namjoon narrates. “My parents, Taehyung, and our neighbor all took turns staying with her because she’s so stubborn, you know? Wouldn’t tell you if something’s wrong.”

Jungkook knows that all too well, that you really are like that.

“Knowing that, though, my parents had her checked every week. That’s how they determined fetal distress,” Namjoon slows down, tone more somber now. “It was early detection so they were able to perform a c-section right away.”

Jungkook turns to him, fear and worry etched on the younger man’s face. “She… she had surgery?”

“Yeah. It was pretty tough and Jungwon had to be monitored for any disabilities or delays. But yeah, he managed, she managed,” Namjoon recounts. The events are so far away but it’s like the worry and the relief still feel so real.

“The kid’s strong, Jungkook. He has a soft and sweet soul like you but he's definitely a fighter like his mother. Perfect mix, if I should say so myself,” the older man smiles, trying to turn the conversation to a lighter one.

He means it though, how Jungwon personifies the best parts of you and Jungkook.

“But they were okay after?”

“Somewhat. She was required to rest for several weeks so those two bonded like crazy,” Namjoon giggles. “Good thing that Jungwon was a quiet one, barely cried, didn’t give ___ too much of a hard time. It just… took time away from her earning, you know? So once she was capable, she took this job at a marketing firm that was way too hectic but paid well and it just… It was hard.”

“How hard?”

“Hard. Jungkook, she was a single parent. A stubborn and proud one at that. Worked over 12 hours a day, took online jobs during the weekend, took Jungwon to daycare everyday, taught him to do everything, made sure he got to play and all…” Namjoon narrates.

“It’s why my mom visited her every month for those first 2 years, why Ara and I would babysit often, why Taehyung set up a place for Jungwon at his apartment on days when ___ had an event until early morning. She only ever asked help if it was about Jungwon, never if it was about her,” Namjoon sighs, recalling how painful it had been for him as your brother to watch you do it all, never taking a break, never asking for help.

“Stubborn and proud, like you said,” Jungkook states.

“Yeah and well, she made a choice, Jungkook. She made a choice to leave you, to have this child on her own, and she made sure to give him everything while being the best parent she could be, taking on both roles for him and she never complained, not once. She just kept going, you know? Never made Jungwon feel any less or that he was a mistake or that he wasn’t loved enough. She made a decision and she stood by it. I’ll always admire her for that,” Namjoon states, holding his own emotions back.

Jungkook lets this all sink in, suddenly wishing that he was there for you, that you didn’t have to go through all that by yourself, that even with friends and family, he’s hoping you didn’t feel so alone.

He knows how you are, knows you’ll exhaust yourself before you even ask for help. That’s how he knew you truly loved him, when you would tell him you’re tired, or that you need help, whether it was something as simple as fixing your broken light bulb or using his charms to get the administration office to agree on this event proposal you had. Being open to him let him know you trusted him. Until you didn’t.

You never minded asking him, and Jungkook knows that if he’d been around, you wouldn’t have minded him helping you, making it easier for you. And it crushes him that he’d wanted to be everything you needed him to be for you and for your child but you didn’t even give him a chance.

He lets out a deep breath, the anger slowly dissipating and being replaced with longing, with a kind of sadness that he now doesn’t know how to deal with.

Namjoon picks up on this and pats him on the shoulder. “Look, I know that you’re still upset and you have the right to be. Just don’t be blinded by that. You’re home. You have a son that I’m sure you want to get to know. Four years is a lot but it’s also just 4 years. Don’t waste any more time that was already taken away from you.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says softly, knowing that it’s still going to take a lot of getting used to.

“So, what do you wanna do now?”

“Maybe meet up with her? I mean, I was yelling at her the last time we saw each other and I just want to ask to see our son.”

“Of course, Kook. I’m sure she’d want that, too.”

You’re sitting on one of the benches at the park the next day, watching Jungwon play with Namjoon and his wife, Ara, from afar. Even from here, you can make out the doe eyes of your son and his smile that reaches his eyes.

He likes the cold, just like you, and he’s been running about with his toy airplane and submarine, which he almost threw in the fountain. You’re smiling fondly, thinking of how the universe had been kind enough to bless you with the sweetest little angel that it could create.

You feel a figure settle next you, not too far away. Namjoon had told you late last night that Jungkook wanted to meet you, perhaps to ask for a workable schedule to spend time with Jungwon.

“Hey,” he says. You shiver, and you know it’s not because of the weather.

“I never got to tell you but I’m so, so sorry, Jungkook,” you say, turning to him, your eyes taking in the sight of him properly for the first time. “There’s so much I need to apologize for and I know it’s gonna take a long time for you to forgive me.”

You’re unable to rein in your feelings again, but after that first conversation with him and then the one you had with Jimin yesterday, you can’t help the guilt that you’ve been trying to temper bubble to the surface - for hurting him, for not trusting him, for not giving him a choice.

“There’s no point dwelling on what happened. It’s done. I’m here. I have time. And I’d like to spend it with Jungwon as much as possible,” he responds.

He doesn’t look at you; he just keeps his eyes out on the little boy still running about. His little boy, his son. And he can’t wait to finally hold him, get to know him, fall in love with him.

“Of course, but we need to take it slow. He’s a shy kid and it’ll take a while. Let’s follow his pace, okay?”

“Sure. We can grab lunch on Saturday, then?”

You can’t help the hope that bubbles in your chest. “That sounds good, Jungkook.”

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blackwidow-bby · 3 years

Text

Positions - Marvel Ladies x Fem!Sub!Reader

Summary: You're a sex worker and you've been hired by a new client for a "group activity".

genre: smut(18+)

pairings: Maria Hill x fem!reader, Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader, Carol Danvers x fem!reader, Yelena Belova x fem!reader

warnings: D/S dynamics, face slapping, spanking, strap on use, degradation, orgy, big ole lesbian train, oral, throat f*cking, name calling, degradation, thigh riding, fingering

AN: I am...well not a pro at writing dirty things especially not with multiple people but I hope you all enjoy regardless!

I don't own any marvel characters!!

Your assistant had just called you into her room. Your week had been slow but fruitful. Normally, it would be a regular client for the month, nothing to sweat over. Your thoughts started to run over who it could be. Maybe Mr. Dean, he usually calls on a Friday but you could've sworn you saw him two weeks ago. That didn't leave a lot of your regulars left to be requesting you as you knew their schedules like the back of your hand.

As if she could read your mind upon entering her space, she spoke, "Y/N, you have a call for a new client. Something about a friend requesting your services? The only thing is..." She hesitated almost thinking if she should tell you the rest of the details before she proceeded. "Well, it's for a group. You don't have to take up the offer if you're uncomfortable with that. I can call her back and let her know you declined."

To tell the truth, the thought of it being a group of strangers did make you uncomfortable, but your assistant wouldn't put you into a situation without going through the proper protocols first. She knew a head count of how many, roughly where they all worked, and several phone numbers. It always helped to be extra safe in these situations where you could be overpowered.

"Who inquired?" you asked interestedly. "She goes by N.R., gave me a headcount of all of her friends that would be attending. There's not going to be any men there, but I guess 'more power in numbers' is still 'more power in numbers'." In all honesty, women gave you way less shit about certain things than men did. Hopefully they'd be way more understanding if you didn't want to do specific activities.

"Call her back and tell her I'll take the offer. Do you know how much she's paying?" Your assistant slid a little sticky note over to you as she dialed the number of one 'N.R.'. You swear you almost choked when you saw how much she offered for you. That was a lot of zeros compared to usual. You walked away to get a water from the mini-fridge while you vaguely listened in to your assistant's phone conversation.

Good.

Perfect.

Okay, I'll tell her to meet you there at 6:30.

Extra clothes, yes ma'am. Have a nice day.

"Hey Y/N, I've written down the address, floor, and room number. It's uh...a really high end hotel in New York City. She also said to bring an extra change of--" you interrupted her, "Extra clothes? I overheard." you started wondering what for? Dinner? Go out? "Uhm, yes, she said extra comfy clothes." Comfy? Was she expecting you to spend the night? You looked down at your watch to see how much time you had to get ready. 2 hours. It wasn't enough but you could make it work. "Alright then, I should go freshen up."

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

An hour and a half later had found you briskly walking toward the extremely tall and very expensive looking hotel in the Upper East Side. You lived in Queens and while the distance wasn't very far, paired with the traffic, the feeling of unsettlement about being late to such a client was enough to make you almost hurl.

You made your way inside the lobby, barely looking at your surroundings. You wanted to get up to the room as quickly as possible without being noticed. "Excuse me," Could you ever be so lucky? "Are you here for Ms. Romanoff?" Who? That must be your clients last name. "She said she was expecting a guest soon." The lady was being extra kind to you, she had an inviting smile. You almost wanted to never lie to her. "Yes, I'm here to see Ms. Romanoff." you replied quietly. It felt like your voice would echo too hard around the warmly lit lobby. You thought it would break you to hear your own voice shrill around such a pristine room.

"Very well, I'll show you to her room." Your nerves began to spike more the higher up you went. It was as if every floor number on the elevator was the level of anxiety you started to feel. Your palms were sweating and you could've sworn your back was too. The lady just kept her eyes forward with a meek little smile. It took every fiber of your body to not explode your feelings all over that elevator.

Ding

The elevator stopped, of course she was in a penthouse suite. You rolled your eyes as how predictable this situation was playing out. The kind lady, who's name you definitely forgot to get, remained in the elevator as you walked out. "There's a number for room service if you ladies need anything." She sung out. "Thank you."

The walk to her door seemed to never end. Your feet were dragging like gravity was doing everything in its power to keep them on the ground. The air was getting hotter as time slowed in the short distance it took to reach her door. You rang the little buzzer and a melodic voice called beyond the frame.

"Coming!"

You could hear the light patter of a single set of feet. The knob then turned and revealed a stunning short redhead with bright eyes. You were certainly gawking at the sight of her but there was nothing you could do to pull your own attention away. She had a smirk on her face when she saw you staring but not saying anything. "You must be Y/N, it's very nice to meet you. Come in and lets get you introduced to everyone."

She reached out her hand to you and you took it gently. her palms were much colder than yours and her fingers were long and slender. her hair was shoulder length and fire-y. The room was massive, and clean. She had all of the blinds closed to keep any natural light and eyes from entering the den. Scanning the room some more you noticed a couple items around the room. Non-traditional furniture. It was going to be one of those events. There were also four other heads aside from the host's. She turned around once reaching the main room and faced you. "My name is Natasha, over there is Wanda," another read-head standing behind everyone else with a glass of wine in her hands, she lightly nodded, "...that is Carol in the middle," a blonde woman with a bright and bubbly smile. She seemed taller than the rest but she was also sitting down on a piece of equipment that will no doubt be used in a different way by you. Natasha gestured to a brunette, "...this is Maria," another tall and slender woman, didn't offer a smile but a simple wave to your direction. You were scared of her the most. "...and this is Yelena." A second blonde who's face was much more stoic than Maria's. You take it back, she scared you the most.

Natasha's hand unhooked from yours and made its way up your back to settle on the back of your neck. The pads of her fingers added slight pressure to the muscles there as if she could feel all of your tension in waves. You felt her lean in closer, her hot breath fanning your ear. "There's a bathroom in the hall to the right. I got a cute little outfit waiting for you." You could feel her soft lips smiling against the curve of your ear. the feeling made you shiver. You managed to follow her eyes and swiftly walk to the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You looked around and found the outfit in question. It was sleek all black leather body suit with a halter neck. You lifted it up in your hands and rubbed the material under your fingers. Next to it sat a bottle of lubricant no doubt to get the body suit on. You got to work shedding the current clothes you had on and began to slide on the little leather number. It wasn't too tight but certainly snug against your frame. The only thing out of the ordinary besides the material was, you noticed, a tiny little zipper in between your legs. If unzipped would reveal your very private essence. The thought made you blush a little to yourself. After cleaning up, you made your way back to the room where the women had sat prior.

Since you calmed down a little, you took the opportunity to fully take in your surroundings. The hall was adorned in art more than likely as expensive as this room. Everything seemed darker than when you arrived. To your surprise when you entered the living room area, the room lighting was red as opposed to the normal LED lighting.

Natasha held her hand out to you again for you to take. You obliged her and she pulled you close into her side. Natasha's deft fingers traveled up and down your ribs before finding purchase on your backside. "You look like the most delicious treat. None of us can wait to eat you. Would you like a drink before we start?"

The other women started moving closer almost circling you like sharks. "Yes please." Natasha poured you a glass as she went on, "We should go over some rules before we start. If at any point you feel overwhelmed, anxious, or hurt, the safe word is 'Heart'. We all stop what we're doing and will help you. If at any point you are gagged, two taps to the closest person will get all of us to cease as well. Because of those rules you will not be bound and gagged simultaneously...at least not this session." She ends her rules with a wink toward you. All of these women truly were stunning and it piqued your interest to know what they could possibly be capable of.

Wanda came closest to you first, she pulled the wine glass away from your lips and replaced it with her own lips. Holding your hand with the glass close to her chest and cupping your cheek with the other. Her lips were sinfully soft as was her kiss. She felt delicate and gentle against you, she almost seemed to not match any of this situation. Natasha took your wine glass away while you continued to make out with Wanda, who let her hands roam lower down your body. Your own hands moved behind her neck. Another set of arms wrapped around you from behind. "You're such a pretty kitten." They nibbled on your ear making you separate from Wanda to see who it was. Carol smiled down at you and found the very lips that left Wanda. You moaned into her mouth at feeling how she controlled and dominated the kiss, very different from Wanda's passion. Wanda moved down to kissing your neck and shoulder.

You could hear other giggles in the back. Natasha kept her eyes trained on you as Yelena and Maria began to touch each other in the mean time waiting for you. After a few minutes of watching her friends have all of the fun, Natasha made her way over to you, Carol, and Wanda. She pulled the other red-head back by her locks and pressed her lips to hers in a searing kiss. You heard Wanda moan out into the other woman's mouth next to you causing you to release your own into Carol. This made the blonde swiftly lift you up and wrap your legs around her waist. She brought you over to a nearby bench and kissed you harder. All of the sounds you were making began to rile her up.

"I'm not sure which one of us is more excited to have you here, pretty girl. All I know is I can't wait to ruin that pretty pussy of yours." You moaned at her words and yanked her back down into another kiss. Her words went straight to your core igniting a fire that had been waiting to burn. You made a mental note to find whoever recommended you to these ladies and thank them heavenly. Carol sunk her hips between your legs and began grinding against you seeking the friction she wanted so badly.

Even though the leather was a new material to you, you could still feel the faux member that rested in her pants; Carol was packing. This caused you to move your hands down to her pants to tear the buttons away. The tall blonde grabbed your hands and smirked, "Allow me." She stood to her full height and slowly removed the black jeans she was wearing and revealed her long, girthy strap she had been hiding. Your eyes widened which made Carol giggle. She sunk to her knees where she seductively pulled the zipper on your suit down. She held your eye contact until you saw them shift to behind you. Natasha and Wanda had pulled away long enough to see what Carol was doing and decided to join again. The two red-heads began to undress themselves where Natasha also sported a rather large strap but not Wanda.

In your distraction upon noticing the other women join in, Carol took to opportunity to shove he face into your pussy. You moaned out loud at the contact. Her tongue quickly lapping at your clit and sinking lower to curl inside you. Her ministrations were making you squirm on the bench. She reached up to hold your hips down. "Stay still kitten. Gotta get you ready for our cocks." Eating you out was an art to her. Every move she made, made you more and more wet. Natasha slid her fingers into your open mouth. You sucked on them harshly slipping your own tongue in-between her fingers and coating them in your saliva. Nat removed her fingers and started to rub them between Wanda's folds.

"Eat her out for me, malysh." Natasha requested. You looked up at Wanda as she slowly lowered herself over your wanting mouth. Your head went fuzzy upon seeing all of the quiet red-head's intimacy. Your tongue immediately poked out to welcome her to you. She let out a soft moan and slowly began to grind herself against your mouth. Carol was growing impatient watching you eat out the other woman and feeling you grow more aroused in her mouth. The blonde stood to position the tip at your entrance rubbing the head up and down your slit before she slammed her length in all at once. You yelped against Wanda's soaked cunt sending vibrations straight to her clit.

The whole scene was turning Natasha on more and more so she began stroking her own member, hoping to find some friction. The other two women walked over to join the rest of the group partially feeling left out. Carol continued to slam into you at a rather fast and rough pace. The tip of her strap hitting that blissful spot inside of you with every thrust. All of your moans and whines brought Wanda closer to her orgasm. She came hard in your mouth before she got up and was replaced by Natasha's own cock.

"Suck kotenok. Mommy's getting restless." Carol did not stop chasing not only her own high but yours. You could hear her grunting from below you. All of this attention was turning you on more than you think you've ever been in your life. Even though one hand wrapped around Natasha's strap and the other gripped Carol's wrist on your hips, you were finding it hard to keep blowing Nat. Carol moved her other hand down to your clit. "You better cum for me you little slut."

And you did; hard.

Carol continued her pace and upon watching you come undone, did so herself. Three quick thrusts and she was spent. She released the most guttural moan before her body was replaced by another blonde. Yelena had this look in her eyes like she wanted to make you pay for every wrong you never committed. She removed her clothing and sat right on your bent leg. At this point Natasha was fucking your mouth deeper and deeper. Needing to ground yourself you wrapped your hands around her thighs. Yelena began to rub herself against your thigh. You could feel how wet and warm she was, her hand sliding up and down your slit collecting your cum to rub your clit in tight circles. Your whines didn't stop especially when you were already beginning to feel another orgasm approaching. Yelena slipped her fingers inside you, finding your g-spot with accuracy. With every thrust of her fingers she hit that same spot over and over. tears started to run down your face with the feeling of Natasha in your mouth and Yelena in your core. Natasha gave one last thrust before she pulled out.

Maria shoved three of her fingers to the back of your throat. She giggled when you gagged around them. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at being finger fucked by the two women. "You're not allowed to cum before I do, else Natty here give you a nice punishment while I ride your face." Yelena only made the threat to turn you on more, but part of you was hoping it was true. It was hard, Yelena knew exactly what she was doing with her fingers but you could feel her slick slide down the sides of your thigh. God you hope she was close because you certainly were. Maria replaced her fingers with her lips and she kissed you hard sliding her tongue along yours. The brunette smiled against your lips when she felt your whimpers in her mouth. Yelena just kept slamming her fingers harder inside of you and rubbing herself quicker. Her breaths got faster and more shallow and as she came, a couple seconds later so did you. Your body shook with the most intense tremors, but Yelena couldn't fault you. She did cum before you, and something about it being in close tandem with hers turned her on a lot more than she would admit. You let out a soft whine when the coolness of the air hit your soaked thigh.

Maria left your mouth and moved between your legs. She put one leg over your left and the other under your right and brought your centers together. "You're a pretty little slut. I want to ruin you so bad." Maria started out ruthless. Her grinding was fast and hard as if she had been waiting to cum for weeks. You felt her in her entirety sliding against your own. The feeling started to overwhelm you. Carol took your face in her hand and rubbed her thumb along your bottom lip. "Open up you little slut."

You obeyed her and opened your mouth sticking your tongue out. At this point you were a blubbering mess and all the ladies were loving it. Carol spit into your mouth before shoving her cock in. "I saw you taking Nat like a pro, so I know you can take me." At least her pace wasn't rough but it certainly was quick. Your gags around Carol was making Maria closer to her release. She leaned forward to angle herself differently against you and put her hand around her throat. She could practically feel Carol's cock fucking your face. Sweat was running down your forehead and your hair clung to every part of your body it could touch. You were close to being spent and you never looked more beautiful this way. Maria's hand tightened, her grunts were heavy. "Such a good little fuck toy. I'm so close baby." You didn't think it was possible for Maria to go any harder but she did. She came with a loud cry and slowed her hips down to ride out her orgasm. You felt her wetness mix with yours. Maria's hand stayed for a couple more minutes, entranced by feeling Carol deep in your throat. The tall blonde slapped your face a couple times before she pulled out. You were too busy catching your breath, you didn't see Natasha move by your feet. She lifted you up and turned you over on your stomach with your legs and arms hanging off the bench. Just when you were hoping it was over, you forgot that Natasha never officially had her turn with you. She rested her strap on your lower back as she ran her cool hands in an attempt to soothe your burning skin. Almost mocking you for being the one to give you the final blow. Wanda walked up to you again. She ran her soft fingers in your hair and moved the stuck strands out of your face. Your breathing was heavy and your body was trembling. Wanda's fingers moved down to cup your jaw and she lifted your head. Tapping the side with her pointer finger, you got the silent request to open your mouth for her. In unison, as Wanda brought her cunt to your mouth, Natasha slid her strap inside you completely bottoming out. Nothing but incoherent noises left your mouth at being filled so sinfully. Wanda gripped your jaw harder as she rubbed her intimacy against your mouth for a second time. You lazily kept your tongue out to try your best to accommodate Wanda's wanting. Natasha on the other hand, had been waiting very patiently for her time and now that she got it she was going to make the best of it. She grabbed your hands in her own and pulled them behind your back to make it easier for her to pound deep into your cunt. When you felt her hit somehow deeper your eyes rolled back. Wanda picked up her pace just as Natasha did, both red-heads moving in perfect synch at opposite ends of your being. A jolt of paint hit your right asscheek igniting a new spark and effectively waking you up even if only for a minute. With every thrust administered, Natasha rained a hand alternating each side of your ass. All of this was sending more and more feelings to your core. You will not be lasting long if these two kept going the way they were. You could feel Wanda fumbling, she was about to come for the second time tonight. Natasha continued to get more rough inside of you until you felt the knot inside of you burst. You came hard around Natasha groaning against Wanda's own cunt. The sight caused Wanda herself to not be able to keep her composure and she came with a scream against your tongue. You felt her pussy pulsing with her orgasm on your mouth. As soon as Wanda backed away from your face, Nat yanked your arms back harder to push herself deeper than you thought was possible. You were screaming, a sweaty broken mess, absolutely spent in this five star hotel. Every thrust pushed harder against that spongey spot inside you. You could feel another earth shattering orgasm approach hoping it would be the last. Natasha's thrusting didn't let up, she was desperate to cum. She was moaning over you with every hit. You yelled her name as you came harder than you had before that whole session. Watching you absolutely spent around her

member, Natasha came just as hard with her final thrust. She stayed inside you to ride out the rest of her high before she carefully pulled out. Looking down she could see wetness all over the bench and her legs. Nat smiled to herself at being the one to make you squirt everywhere like a silent victory. Allowing you to lay and collect your bearings, the red-head began to clean up the room.

There wasn't much you could make out in your state, but you could partially hear Natasha thanking all of the women for coming over before hearing the door open and close through the ringing in your ears. Your were shaking, your whole body felt blissfully weak. The red-head padded over softly to your spent and soaked body and picked you up carefully to place you in her arms bridal style. Your mind was in a war with yourself between wanting just a little bit more or to just go to sleep. You couldn't even open your eyes at this point.

Natasha had brought you to the bathroom to help you clean up and as she moved about, she kept you in her arms. She made sure to hold you as she turned on the faucet and sit on the edge of the tub. As the water filled the tub, Nat moved between rubbing your back and gently caressing your cheek. Once the tub was filled up enough for the both of you, she picked you up again and cautiously lowered the both of you into the hot relaxing water. You couldn't do anything but mumble and cursed yourself for the state you were in even though it wasn't your fault. You desperately wanted to think your gracious host for a life changing night but nothing could come out. Natasha shushed you sweetly. Her time wasn't done until you were well taken care of in her company.

You don't know how long you were in the bathroom, hell you don't even know when you fell asleep as Natasha washed the night away from both of your bodies. Clearly still in no position to be able to make it back to your home, the red-head dried both of you off and brought you to the large bedroom. You had come back into partial consciousness long enough to feel the soft sheets and the plush comforter of this heavenly bed you were being gifted to rest on.

Natasha lowered you down and climbed on the other side before pulling you into her. She lifted your head to lay on her chest so she could easily hold you and play with your hair. She stayed awake until she heard your breathing even out again, signaling that you had fallen asleep again since the bath. She placed a soft kiss to your hairline before succumbing to sleep herself with a blissed smile on her face.

She'd definitely be requesting you again.

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

AN: Not sure how I feel about this but yeah this is my wack attempt at something extra dirty.

#natasha romanoff x reader #maria hill x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #Carol danvers x reader #yelena belova x reader #reader insert #my fic #multi character x reader #fem!reader insert

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uwusenpaiuwu · 3 years

Text

Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

#mikey x male reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjirou x male reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo Revengers #Sano Manjirou #sano manjiro #manjiro sano #manjirou sano #i tried #im so sorry #pls dont cancel me #PSA: don't masturbate in the same room as baji

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