#I LOVE DIGGING THROUGH GAME FILES *banging head against the wall*

[funkbun]

the progress of this one triptych seen throughout the game cause it's my favorite thing ever

[meltwonu]

| caffeine |     [chapter 9]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x female!reader

this chapter’s notes; i’ve indulged, possessive!wonwoo, intoxication, blowjob, creampies, degradation, slight name calling, fingering, exhibitionism, very minor brat!reader, v v minor daddy!kink, OOPSIES A THREESOME🥴🥴🥴, the drink mentioned in this is apparently a real thing(albeit a shot and not a whole drink) and i didn’t know but now i’m kinda curious to try it jfhkjshdkjfh 🤣💕 I also can’t believe Caffeine is almost done! 🥺 thank you so much for all the continued interest in our dom daddy fratboy wonwoo!! 💕💕💕💕💕💕 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - x

SVT House decides to throw a series of ‘Going Away’ parties for Wonwoo. He objects initially, saying he doesn’t really need a series of parties but the others convince him; telling him that it’s the least they could do before he leaves for a few months.

“Think of it this way bro, it’s gonna be so quiet without us when you’re abroad. All you’re gonna see for days is dirt and maybe a fossil or two if you’re lucky. You’ll get bored and miss us eventually!”

Jun clinks his solo cup against Wonwoo’s, drink sloshing around messily before he takes a sip. Wonwoo laughs, taking a sip of his own before he shoots you a look from across the kitchen island. “Yeah, that’s true I guess. But I still don’t understand why it needs to be more than one party. I’m fine with just this.”

Wonwoo gestures to the other SVT House members, eyes darting across to the other males in their states of intoxication. This smaller ‘party’ was just the frat members and yourself; Wonwoo making the decision to keep it extremely small. Seungcheol walks over, tossing an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulder before pulling him into a headlock.

“It’s ‘cause this is the pregame to the real one. We invited the whole campus for your ‘Going Away’ party.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, taking another swig. “Just admit you guys wanna get drunk and probably laid and this was an excuse to invite the entire fuckin’ campus.”

“Ehh, could be that too, but you know we’ll miss you, bro.”

After your fourth cup of whatever concoction Soonyoung called ‘Tiger Balm’, your head and body feel pleasantly fuzzy when you take a seat on the plush sofa in the living room, resting your head against the throw pillows before Wonwoo takes a seat next to you. The others are in the yard and kitchen; quietness taking over the empty living room.

                                         “How ‘ya feelin’, princess?”

“Mmm… good…” You slur, cozying up to him. He plucks the cup from between your fingertips, placing it on the table in front of you before he tilts your head up to meet his lust filled eyes. “Oh? What kind of good?” His lips curve into a knowing smirk, hand placed on your exposed thigh. A whimper creeps past your lips just as you rub your thighs together. “Wonwoo…”

His fingertips ghost across your skin, lifting your skirt higher and higher until it bunches up near the apex of your thighs.

“Ooh, is this a free show?”

A cheshire grin paints itself onto Jihoon’s features as he takes a seat across the two of you on the opposite sofa. He crosses his legs, taking a sip of his cup as he quirks a brow. You meet his intoxicated stare, licking your own lips as you spread your legs a little wider.

“Depends… If you’re interested?” You question, Wonwoo’s fingertips drawing circles on your exposed thigh. He leans in close, wrapping his free hand around your shoulder as he nips at your neck. Jihoon places his cup next to him on the sofa, grinning at you. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m always down for free content.” You giggle at his words, letting Wonwoo slide his hand up your skirt until he presses the pads of his fingers onto the growing wet patch on your panties.

“S-shit, Wonwoo!”

Your body feels even more sensitive than usual with the alcohol coursing through it and you can’t help the way your legs immediately snap shut around his hand. “Princess.” He warns; voice strict as you will your legs apart again. You hook your leg over Wonwoo’s instead, trying to give Jihoon a better view. “That better?” You retort, giggle cut short when Wonwoo manages to nudge at your clit from over your panties. Jihoon laughs at the shift in your demeanour; bratty attitude quickly diminishing as soon as Wonwoo knew where to touch you.

“Don’t you wanna touch her too? She’s already getting so wet with you just watching her.”

“Hmm… I’m starting to think the two of you planned somethin’ like this…” Jihoon bites his lip, eyes hyper-focused on Wonwoo’s fingertips rubbing you through your panties. He strains his eyes to get a better view, licking his lips when Wonwoo starts to push your panties to the side.

“Oh? What makes you think that?” You can help but moan loudly as he starts to run his fingers through your folds, tuning Wonwoo’s voice out almost completely as he continues to talk to Jihoon.

“Gee, I dunno, maybe it’s the fact the two of you seem very invested in this. Not that I’m complainin’.”

Wonwoo collects your wetness on his middle finger before he slowly sinks the digit into your pussy, a choked sob cutting through the air as you clench around his finger. Your walls throb around the digit, already on the verge of an orgasm when he slowly thrusts it in and out.

“Why are you getting so tight around my finger, princess? Don’t tell me you already want to cum.” You hiccup, lip quivering when your hazy eyes meet Wonwoo’s.

“I--’m sorry… s’just… ‘m really sensitive…” You mumble. Wonwoo curves his finger up into your g-spot, pressing into it as your back bows off of the cushions.

“Well, we can’t have you cumming just yet, princess. Let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

It should surprise you that Jihoon has a small private studio office in the frat house, but it doesn’t; not after you’d seen their game room.

He flicks the LEDs on, a pretty purple colour filling in the space as the three of you file into the small room.

“As long as you don’t get anything in here dirty, you’re always welcome here.” Jihoon teases, sitting on the leather sofa against the wall. You waste no time, sliding your panties down your legs and tossing them behind you before you settle onto his lap, already working to get his pants down.

“You’re more eager than I anticipated. Wanna share with the class?” Wonwoo quips, undoing his own pants before he kneels on the sofa to your side. You pout as you look up at him from where you sit on Jihoon’s lap, hand already wrapped around his cock as he moans.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to play… I just went with it ‘cause it sounded fun...”

“Really? Wonwoo was the one to suggest this?” Jihoon can’t hold back his laugh, raising a brow at the other male who deadpans at your comment.

“I mean I’m going away for three months, why not go out with a bang? I’m not that boring. Think of it as a bucket list for me.”

You fight the urge to drool when Wonwoo’s cock comes into view, his own hand wrapping around the shaft as he matches your pace on Jihoon’s. “Before you fuck, put on a condom.”

“Do I have to?” Wonwoo shoots the slightly younger male a icy stare, digging his free hand into his pants pocket before tossing him a small foil packet. “Yes.”

“I bet you cum inside her tight ‘lil pussy all the fuckin’ time.” Wonwoo smirks, inching closer to you as Jihoon opens the small packet.

“Oh, I do. She loves it when I make a mess of her. But you, however, are a new addition. And only I get to cum inside that pretty ‘lil cunt.” Your entire body thrums with arousal at Wonwoo’s slightly possessive nature, squeezing Jihoon hard as he brings a delicate hand down to roll the condom onto himself. “Guess that’s fair…”

You lick your hand clean of the precum, giggling when Jihoon exhales in shock. “I knew the two of you were nasty.” Wrapping a hand around his cock, you shimmy up his lap until the head is positioned at your entrance. You sink down on him slowly, garbled moans spilling from your mouth when he bottoms out inside of you. “A-ah, fuh--!!” You whimper, body shaking as you’re overcome with pleasure; orgasm washing over you quickly as the two males watch you squirm on Jihoon’s lap.

“All you did was sit on his cock and you’re already cumming? You’re so easy.” Jihoon chuckles, hands massaging and caressing your body as you come down from your sudden high.

“Mmh… m’sorry… feels suh--soo good…” You mewl, already drunk on his cock as you start to bounce in his lap.

“Ngh, you have a really pretty cock…” Jihoon snorts, hands on your hips as you swivel atop his lap. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.. Was thinkin’ about it ‘cause you have pretty hands too…” Wonwoo smirks, tilting your head to the side before he taps the head of his cock against your lips.

“Open up, princess.”

You gladly do, welcoming his cock into your mouth as you start to hollow out your cheeks around him.

“Can I ask you something?” Wonwoo holds your gaze as Jihoon questions, a small hum coming from him to let Jihoon know to continue. “Why’d you pick me?” You clench around Jihoon, his nails digging into your skin before he plants his feet on the ground, harshly thrusting up into you and making your body bounce.

“Well, we thought about Mingyu first but he seemed greedy and less likely to be compliant. Then we thought about Minghao and thought he’s more of a monogamous type of guy. Seokmin was the last option but he seemed like he would be just as bad as Mingyu. You, however, seemed like you’d be… obedient.”

You moan around Wonwoo’s cock, letting your tongue slide against the underside of his shaft as he slowly works more and more of his cock into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat.

“What makes you think I’d be obedient and not like Mingyu?” Jihoon challenges, watching Wonwoo’s cock disappear into your mouth. He can feel his cock throbbing; your pussy tight around him as you alternate from circling your hips and bouncing in his lap.

Wonwoo smirks, sultry eyes meeting Jihoon’s hazy ones. “Just an assumption.” Jihoon hums, running his hands from your hips to the underneath of your top, squeezing and playing with your breasts. A shiver runs up your spine just as he pinches your nipples between his fingertips. “I can be selfish too.” Jihoon chides.

The two of them alternate their paces, Wonwoo’s hand tangled in your hair guiding your mouth down onto him as Jihoon helps guide your hips. You feel so full of both of them, but the alcohol flowing through your body makes you feel extra sluggish; grinding down slowly onto Jihoon.

“Aww, is the ‘lil princess tired? Do we have to do all the work for you?” You whimper around Wonwoo’s cock at Jihoon’s words. Wonwoo smirks, tugging your hair slightly as he pulls you off of him. 

“Let’s get our princess into a better position.” Their eyes meet, silently agreeing as Jihoon helps you off of his lap and onto the sofa on your hands and knees. Your body sags against the leather material as you rest your upper body against it. 

But it doesn’t last long before Wonwoo is urging you back up, hand threaded through your hair as he positions his cock back at your lips. 

“Make Jihoon cum, princess. Let him feel how fuckin’ tight and wet that filthy cunt is.” 

Jihoon sinks his cock back into you at the exact same time Wonwoo does, and in this position Jihoon can control the pace much easier. He fucks into you hard and fast, chasing his orgasm. “F-fuck, she’s so fucking tight! She feels so fuckin’ good around my cock.” Jihoon slaps your ass, jerking your body forward as you start to deepthroat Wonwoo. “Such a shame I can’t cum inside her pussy. Then you could’ve had my sloppy seconds ‘n fucked our cum inside of her.” 

The two share a devilish chuckle as your body thrums with pleasure; the thought never crossed your mind but the idea of it had you clenching pathetically hard. “Oh? Shit, it seems like she wants that.” 

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly turned on by the idea as well. “When’s the last time you go checked?” A smirk crosses Jihoon’s features as he runs a free hand through his messy hair. 

“Dunno, like last year? When we all got drunk and promised each other we’d get STD tests. I haven’t fucked anyone since then. No time.” Wonwoo pulls you off of his cock as you sputter, spit and precum dribbling down your chin. 

“Do you want that? It only happens if you want it, princess. If you say no, that’s final.” The last bit is directed at Jihoon who meets Wonwoo’s stern gaze.

You nod, letting Wonwoo wipe the spit off of your lips. “I... I want.... w-want it...”

The two nod at each other, Jihoon pulling out of you as you whimper. He pulls the condom off, breath shaky when he positions his cock at your entrance. A guttural moan slides off his lips when he starts to sink back into you; your tight walls feeling even better without the barrier. 

“Fu--fuck, you feel even better like this. I’m not gonna last long...” Wonwoo lets go of your hair just as Jihoon starts fucking into you hard and fast, letting your upper body rest against the sofa as he watches. “Make Jihoon cum. Let him fill you up, princess.” He wraps a hand around his cock, slowly running it up and down. 

You clench around Jihoon, urging him to cum as you try to meet his thrusts. “P-please cum inside of m-me, Jihoon... wanna feel good...” There’s a slight growl, Jihoon’s nails digging into the skin of your ass. “Filthy ‘lil slut, all you want is a fat cock in your pussy filling you up with cum, don’t you?” Wonwoo grins at Jihoon’s words. 

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” Jihoon warns, eyes clenched shut as he feels the pleasure wash over his body, cock snug between your walls as you milk him for all he’s worth. You feel warm, hips wiggling while he fills you up with his cum. 

“That’s my good girl.” Wonwoo praises, Jihoon’s rigid body going slack behind you when his high starts to ebb away. 

He pulls out of you a moment later, cum already dripping down onto the sofa. 

“Fuck, I said don’t make a mess.” Jihoon sleepily remarks, tiredness already overtaking him. But he wraps an arm around your midsection, helping you readjust so that you’re on your back this time; your back against his chest. 

Wonwoo scoots over, prying your legs apart as he watches Jihoon’s cum drip from your swollen pussy. “Still think you can take me?” You nod tiredly. “Mmhmm... I--I wanna cum too...” He guides his cock towards your entrance, using the head of it to collect Jihoon’s dripping cum before he slowly eases himself into you. 

The two of you share a moan, the familiarity of each other’s body reigniting the pleasure as Wonwoo starts a harsh pace from the beginning; his cock covered in your wetness and Jihoon’s cum when he pulls out. 

“You’re still so damn tight even though Jihoon’s already fucked you open, princess.” 

You mewl just as Jihoon reaches down, the pads of his fingers on your clit as your back arches off of his chest. “A-ah, mmh, ‘m close! Daddy, I’m so close!” You cry, tears blurring your vision at how quickly your orgasm was building up. Wonwoo’s thrusts are erratic, the urge to cum already quickly building for himself as well. 

“Cum then, let me feel you wet this cock before I let you have my cum.” 

Jihoon’s fingertips rub harsh circles, teasing and pinching your swollen nub until  your body tenses up, cries of Wonwoo’s name spilling from your lips as your walls flutter around him. Tears slip from your eyes as Wonwoo fucks you through your orgasm; the tightness of your pussy spurring his own orgasm as he unloads his cum into you. 

Wonwoo continues to fuck you through his own orgasm, his cock covered in a mixture of his and Jihoon’s cum when he eventually pulls out. You moan tiredly, slumping against Jihoon’s chest as you try to catch your breath. 

“Ngh... ‘m tired but hungry...” You slur, body warm from your orgasms. The alcohol’s already worn off; your mind already less hazy as you meet Wonwoo’s eyes. Jihoon nods, yawning as he massages your tired body with his hands. 

“We need to get you cleaned up and then we can go eat.” Wonwoo licks his lips, eyes darting down to the cum pooling underneath you. Jihoon follows his gaze, smirking when he understands Wonwoo’s train of thought. 

“We’ll both get you cleaned up. How’s that sound?” 

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 23

Previous: Cricket & OT7, Return to Sender

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU, Angst, Some Fluff

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Consensual Sex 

Summary: Black Panther & Codename Cupid meet, Golden Maknae & Black Panther attempt to find a solution 

OR 

What happens when you're confronted with an undeniable lie you've been telling for nearly a year?

(like ... it’s hella long and I only love like... part of it) 

Codename Black Panther Meets Codename Cupid  

Present Day

           It’s awkward, sitting in your office knowing a team of high level, highly intelligent men sit no more than a block away, surveying your every move. Taehyung and Jimin are in their truck, the bugs they’d planted months ago still in use, their sight line into my office unobstructed. So what do you do when you’re under surveillance? No more rapping Childish Gambino at the top of my lungs, no more dancing to ABBA when I’m tired of sitting… No more pretending to work and billing hours when I’m reading conspiracy theory blogs. No more making out with Jungkook when he stops by or whispering filth into his ear when our temperatures are escalating and the need for each other surpasses the need for air.

           I have to remind myself what the most important aspect of being under surveillance is: Act like you aren’t.

           Cupid enters my office in what I can only describe as a knockout outfit, head to toe Chanel, complete with a Birkin and what I can only assume are Hermes sunglasses. She looks stunning, more so than usual.

           “Euna, so good to see you,” I say, gesturing for her to sit. She glances at the chair and shakes her head.

           “For how much I pay you, you should be able to afford nicer furniture,” She hums.

           “Can I get you a water?” I ask, the anger attempting to pull my smile from my lips.

           “Please, Pellegrino?”

           “Yes, lemon and regular,” I inform her.

           “Lemon please,” She says. Cupid takes her sunglasses off and waits patiently for me to return.

           “We have a few updates to discuss,” I tell her. “I have done a little more research on the –

           “I came here to tell you that I will no longer be needing your service,” Cupid interrupts.

           “I’m sorry, have I done something?” I ask, surprise willingly seeping through my features. “I know we had a tense conversation the last time you stopped by, but I didn’t think you wanted me to stop my work.”

           “I have done some digging on my own and have come to the conclusion that it’s incredibly unprofessional of you to engage with Jeon Jungkook in a manner that is far more than casual lovers. He is not who he says he is, and I will not have you investigating your own boyfriend.”

           “Euna, how do you know?”

           “I have my sources,”

           “I thought I was your source,” I counter.

           “You are,”

           “Then, who else are you working with?” I ask again.

           “That is not for you to know,”

           “Okay, but you are clearly mad at me, or frustrated with me, specifically regarding my love life, which is not up for discussion. I want to fix whatever is causing this, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me.” My voice reaches the gravel pit my Speech Therapist told me is unhealthy, ravaging my vocal cords. I can’t tell what her end game is, but I know mine.

           “I do not feel comfortable with him being near my family and being with you means he is. I won’t associate with someone so…,” Cupid scolds me, unable to finish her thought. “Further, I believe you have gone above and beyond what I initially requested, and I am satisfied with the work you have done.”

           “Why is my relationship with Jungkook so-

           “You have love in your eyes,” She says. I gnaw at the dead skin of my bottom lip. “You are no longer leading this investigation with a clear head, and I need someone whose mind isn’t filled with hope to get to the bottom of this. However he knows them, Jeon Jungkook is dangerous.”

“If you tell me, I can ensure he isn’t. We’ve been together for a while, Euna, he isn’t, he isn’t whatever you think he is,” I could easily be lying, in this moment, I have no idea who Jungkook is.

           “Be careful, Y/N, you do not know what they’re capable of.”

           “Euna,” I start again. How does she know he knows them? What intel does she have that I so clearly do not? “What are they capable of?”

           “You don’t want to find out. Here is your last check, bonus included for your exceptional work. I do have one request.” Cupid stands, slipping her shades back over chocolate eyes.

           “Okay?” I ask, standing to mirror her.

           “Burn it all,”

           “Burn it?”

           “Whatever documentation you have from my time working with you, it would be in your best interest to burn it,” Euna chooses her words carefully, a trait of being a CEO. I swallow thickly, nodding my head.

           “Okay, and Euna?” I ask.

           “Hmm?”

           “I’m sorry this wasn’t everything you wanted it to be, and that I couldn’t find Yoongi,” I concede.

           “Oh, don’t apologize. I would be a terrible businesswoman if this was the end of my plans.” Replacing her frown with a gentle smile, she walks towards the door. “When you see Min Yoongi, tell him I’ll be waiting.”

           “What makes you think I’ll be seeing Min Yoongi?”

           “Oh Y/N, I have a little faith.”

           I watch her leave and decide that banging my head against a wall regarding what Cupid knows and I don’t is worthless. I guarantee Namjoon has another file waiting for me with all the answers to the questions he’s assuming I’m going to ask. He isn’t wrong, I do have a million questions, ones for Jungkook, ones for Namjoon, about nine million for Yoongi, and a few for Jimin. Yoongi was so smug, arrogant, rude, a complete ass hole. I hate him. But I also deeply respect his game. I also completely understand why Jun-Seo fell for Jimin, he is by far the most gorgeous man I have ever seen up close, next to Taehyung. And Jungkook. In person? Holy fuck, Park Jimin can fucking get it.

           Speaking of the man in question, who is now a suspect to Euna, is waiting patiently for me when I come home. Jungkook’s not stalking in the darkness, slinking through the night to find me, catching me off guard once I close the front door. He’s silent in his approach, waiting patiently for me. But tonight, either in an effort to smooth things over or out of the pure goodness of his heart, he’s home. He’s got takeout waiting on the table, glasses of water and booze sitting in the appropriate places, necessary silverware set in place. This isn’t fucking Thanksgiving, it’s a goddamned Thursday night. He himself is waiting patiently on the couch, lying down, eyes closed and soft snores coming out of his mouth. He looks cozy in ripped jeans and a sweatshirt, his hair growing long again, bleached, a look I was thoroughly against until I laid eyes on him.

           Walking. Sex.

           That’s the only way I can describe him.

           “Go home,” I purposefully slam the door, jolting him from his slumber.

           “I am home,” He responds.

           “I can’t do this with you,”

           “We need to talk,” he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes.

           “I don’t want to talk right now, JK, I want to go to sleep,”

           “JK?” His eyebrows raise to say hello to his hairline.

           “Yes, I don’t want to talk, go home.”

           “Cricket, you haven’t eaten dinner yet,” He reminds me.

           I can feel the tears prickling again, the ones I’d shed in front of OT7, the ones I’d born in the car, the ones I’d been bottling up for the last thirty-six hours, trying to not be so obviously heartbroken as I stared Lee Euna down. I’m too sad to fight him, so I don’t, letting him stand and guide me to the table where the Thai awaits. Dropping my bag down, I walk through to my bedroom, into the bathroom and shut the door.

           “I’m showering first,” I call, ignoring the protest in his eyes as I walked away.

           It’s a little too spot on to blast Adele, but I don’t fucking care. I turn it as loudly as my neighbors will tolerate and sing my sorrows. Tears mixing with cleanser, the poetry of their juxtaposition not lost as Adele fades into Ben Platt, and I’m sobbing as I release the words, noticing the magnitude of the change of phrase:  

Now my heart is in your hands, please don't give it up / This is not a temporary love / This is not a temporary love / No, this is not a temporary love / Now your heart is in my hands, please don't give it up

           I know Jungkook will be waiting for me to finish showering, and I know he’ll be ready to listen. He’ll beat himself up over whatever I say, he’ll listen when my voice raises, when it cracks, when it shakes. He always does. I guess that’s the thing about Jungkook, no matter how inexperienced he feels about loving someone, taking care of them, supporting them, he always does it and does it well. He shows up, even when he feels like he can’t. It’s been over a year, never once have I doubted his dedication, his steadfast love, not when he walked into the meeting with OT7, or when he tried to follow me after, or in the voicemails and texts he’s left since. I’ve never doubted Jungkook.

           I shuffle from the warmth of my bathroom towards the kitchen table, where Jungkook is sitting.

           “I reheated your plate,” Jungkook says. He’s sitting quietly, eyes full and downcast.

           “Thanks,”

           “Do you want to eat then talk, or talk first?” He offers the two options, knowing which I’ll pick.

           “Eat,” I sit across from him, noting how he placed my food as far from him as possible, a notable decision that not only highlights how deeply he knows me, but that he still fucking cares. “You ate already?”

           “I, yeah, I couldn’t wait,” He’s shy, a blush on his cheeks.

           “Why? You always wait,”

           “I’ve been on a small mission for the last twenty-four hours, no food, and I’ve been so anxious about us that I just… Seeing you just made all that stress disappear, so I ate,” Jungkook tells me. He sniffles, his tears starting to fall.

           “A small mission?”

           “Mm, to find out what happened to Bow and Arrow in 2012 and 2014 respectively,” He answers.

           “Did you find out?”

           “Yeah, but, well, you haven’t been onboarded. But one of our rules is that you don’t discuss work outside of headquarters,”

           “Right, sure, makes sense,” I nod. I glance at him again, nose red, tears still falling. “I can’t eat if you’re crying.”

           “I’ll sit on the couch,” He stands and shuffles towards the grey clothed piece I scrimped and saved for. It’s beyond worn out, pills of fabric piled on the edges of cushions, stains from mishaps and craft projects I should’ve done at the table. It’s housed many naps and a few guests. Jungkook looks nestled amongst the pillows.

           I eat my food quietly, trying to figure out what it is exactly that I want to tell him. I’m not entirely sure I know what will come out of my mouth when I have to stare into his Bambi eyes. But I think I know what will come out of his, and I don’t want to hear it.

           “I’m sorry,” Jungkook starts. The dishes are cleared, and he’s waiting patiently for me on the couch. I don’t sit down, just stare at the spot above his head.

           “How long have you known?” It’s better to just rip the bandage off, right?

           “Four months,” Jungkook answers.

           “How long have you known Jimin?”

           “Eight years. How long have you known about my connection to Jimin and Taehyung?”

           “A year,” I whisper. My sin seems far worse than his.

           “A year?” Jungkook’s astonished. “You’re mad at me for a few months that were direct orders when you’ve been what, suspicious for a year?”

           “You lied to me, fundamentally lied about who you are, I asked you for one fucking thing in this relationship, and you broke it.” I yell.

           “Technically, you asked me two things, and I have followed through on both of those.” Why is his voice measured? Why doesn’t he yell when I yell?

           “You lied!” My voice rises another octave, “What was your goal, to perpetuate the lie for as long as possible?”

           “I had a job-

           “I had a job!” I counter.

           “My job requires me to do certain things without asking,” Jungkook’s tears continue to fall. “I asked if I could tell you, and I told you what I could.”

           “You spied on me, gave all my evidence and –

           “I didn’t spy on you,” His teeth are gritted, bunny smile lost to the nasty snare he’s tightened across his lips.

           “Your friends spied on me,” I correct myself.

           “You spied on my friends!” Jungkook countered.

           “Your friends? The men that until two days ago I didn’t know were part of a giant governmental body that’s going to take down the largest conglomerate in the world? Who even are they? Who the fuck do they work for? What the fuck do they even do? I didn’t know you could be a secret organization without like, the federal government or Interpol knowing who you are but to my surprise, you can!”

           Jungkook rolls his eyes, it’s aggressive and sharp, seeing his entire brain as they roll. “I had to lie. You, you knew and didn’t say anything. Why not say something?”

           I sigh, I can tell him why I didn’t say anything, but I can’t tell him why I didn’t say anything. You know?

           “I had no real proof that you really knew them,” I begin, “all I had was a hunch, a reaction they had that made it seem like they knew you. I put a few pieces together, but I didn’t have any real evidence that would hold up in court or against your withering stare. And, what if you were dangerous? OT7 is dangerous, you all could’ve hurt me. Why couldn’t me hiding it be about my safety?”

           “You’re grasping at straws. If you had thought I wasn’t safe to be with, you wouldn’t be here a year later.”

           “Tell me this, Jungkook, why, in front of all of your best friends, did you fucking let Namjoon tear me to pieces? Why, Jungkook, did you not say anything when you were left off my list of romantic partners? Do they not know about us? Do they not know you, we, love each other? Is this not what I thought it was?” Ah, and there the tears are.

           “I wanted to be off the list,” He whispers.

           “Why Jungkook? From where I’m standing, it fucking feels like you’re trying your hardest to erase me, like, like this almost year and a half that we’ve been together means nothing because I’m just a god damn mark. Is that what I am? Have I been reduced to that?”

           “No!” He stands and shakes his head repeatedly.

           “Then who am I to you? Am I your girlfriend? Am I your best friend? Or am I a piece in a larger puzzle that you are trying to solve?” I demand, pausing minutely to gasp for air. “I know what you are to me, I know how I feel about you. All my feelings have done in the last year is grow. I love you more than I did last week, I care about you more deeply than I did when you told me about how you were raised, a slight lie, but still honest. I see us, our life together more clearly than I ever have, but two days ago I.” I let the tears fall, pulling my mascara, never waterproof, and eyeshadow down with them. “I looked like the fool. I was the little girl attempting to play dress up with the fucking Tony Award winning cast of Catch Me if You Can. So, if I’m not the butt of the joke to you, who the fuck am I Jungkook?”

           He wipes his eyes on his sleeves, which have covered his hands and are balled beneath his fingers. I’ve never seen him this upset. I know I’m not prepared for what is going to come out of his mouth.

           “Namjoon tells people that we’re the one who knocks, but we aren’t. We’re the ones who send in the team to knock, we call all the shots, gather all the data, work the case until it is made out of marble. There are no cracks unless we have intentionally left them. We work as a unit, I don’t breathe without Hoseok knowing. I don’t brush my hair without Jimin catching it. We exist because of each other.” He sighs, “I took myself off the list on purpose. Your existence in my life is a threat. People know who I am, and if they know you…”

He shakes his head, a flash of what I experienced a few weeks ago, the idea of not coming home to this, to us… It’s in his eyes and it’s breaking my heart.  

           “I know we can keep you safe. I have full faith that our team will always protect you, but if I’m on that list, if there’s a trail of me to you, or vice versa. We’re at risk. I cannot, and I will not, lose you. I will not let my work put your life at risk, I will not sacrifice myself if it means I won’t come home to you. At the end of the day, isn’t that our promise to each other? I love you, and I am so sorry I lied to you, but my hands were tied. I can’t step out of line without risking everything OT7 is and does. I won’t do it.”

           “I’m not asking you to be a coward,” I whisper.

           “What?” Jungkook asks, for the first time in a few days, his eyes are softening, confusion replacing hurt.            

           "In Charmed, Phoebe asks Cole to back down, and he responds by saying he would do anything for her, except be a coward. He begs, please don’t ask me to be. I’m not asking you to be a coward, Jungkook.”

           “I know you’re not. I asked Namjoon if I could tell you, about my job,”

           “I remember,”

           “I didn’t give specifics about who you are. I didn’t tell OT7 because I didn’t want you to be used in this case, I didn’t want this to be happening. But I walked into the offices and there you were, your photo, your stats, your codename,” A shiver runs over my spine at the mention of a codename, something so intentional, deliberate, precise. They’d taken the time to include me. “I didn’t know that Jimin and Taehyung had been following you for months or had interacted with you. They asked me point blank and I couldn’t lie. I wouldn’t lie about you, you’re too important. Namjoon gave me orders, and I’m obligated to follow them.”

           “You lied to me,” I repeat.

           “You lied to me, too.”

           I stare at him, I don’t know how to fix this.

           “We don’t have to forgive each other, or understand one another or work through it, now or ever. But I think that would be a disservice, a betrayal, of our relationship. You did ask me who you are to me, and the best way to explain it is this,” He grabs a paper off the coffee table and hands it to me, “Namjoon had me write it down.”

           Cautiously I take the paper from him, typed and unedited, it’s longer than I expected. “Is this a twisted love letter?”

           “You could say that,” Jungkook’s soft smile returns.

           “Read it to me,” I hand it back.

           Sniffling, “I’ll keep crying,”

           “Please?” I ask again, sitting on the couch. He nods gently and sits next to me.

           “Can I hold your hand?” He asks. The flames have been handled, dulled to hot embers as we sit, thigh touching thigh, his tattooed covered hand engulfing mine.

           “Y/N and I began dating after meeting in a bar. I was struck by how stunning she was, how much I wanted to understand the flush of her cheeks, the curve of her jaw, the cadence of her laugh. We flirted, and I bought her drink. That first night in her apartment, where I now spend almost all of my time, I was overwhelmed by how much it felt like home… which is insane and I’ve never told her, but that night, I could just see us there, our future, all enfolding in front of me... Her apartment doesn’t turn you away or disinvite you once you’ve arrived, it’s far too warm and cozy, just like her. It’s my favorite place in the world, she’s my favorite place.

            We spent the night laughing, kissing, getting to know each other. It was something in her eyes, in the way she absentmindedly traced my tattoos, how she fell asleep so easily in my arms. The next morning, we got breakfast, and I asked her out for a date on Monday. Dinner and a movie, classic. She let me hold her hand, and skillfully argued why she should pay for dinner. I compromised, she bought the movie tickets and treats. I barely paid attention to the movie, I just wanted to watch her laugh. Since that night, she’s all I ever think about.

           She said she wanted to know what she was going to drown in before she dove in, and I knew in that moment that I loved her. I’ve never heard such poetry spoken, let alone about me, to me, before… She just, she was vulnerable without hesitation. I didn’t understand how she could be so delicate with me, so exposed, so willing to let me in. Her vulnerability welcomed mine, embraced it, and I’ve been loving her ever since.

           I’ve never loved someone quite like her. She is brash, she makes decisions and sticks with them regardless of how difficult they make her life. She works side projects for neighbors, unpaid, to ease their lives. The man she rents her office from has a few kids, and in the summers, she takes a day a week to watch them. She hates cooking and brushes her teeth for over the recommended time because she’s terrified they’ll rot. She buys packs of the same popsicles and never leaves without a full water bottle. She hates sports, would rather sit in silence and stare at a wall than watch a football game, but she’ll check up on the highlights if it matters to me. She listens to the same music on a loop and adds in songs I love to her playlists because she wants to feel close to me, to understand me, to see me.

           I could continue listing all the things about her, that I love, or all the things I love about our relationship… how we compromise, how we talk through our squabbles, how we respect each other, how we can communicate without speaking but know each other’s voice is our favorite sound. I love that she’s perceptive and asks for alone time when she needs to recharge and can sense from the tone in my voice when I need the same. I love how she sees me, listens to me, brings out the parts of me only OT7 knows. Like I said, I could keep writing… but it’s easier to put it this way:

           Y/N is the love of my life, and I will do anything to protect her, to love her, to come home to her every day and every night that she’ll have me.

           I will not break my promise to her. Lock and key.”

           Jungkook sets the paper down and doesn’t look at me. I’m openly balling next to him, sobs ripping through me in quick succession.

           No one has ever loved me like this.

           I’ve only dreamed of love like this, I mean, no one has this, right? He’s offering it to me, no strings attached, no secrets, love for the sake of love. Love without penance or an additional cost to it. Here he is, all ink and doe eyes, holding me, the woman who lied to him, deceived him, was suspicious of him for months, hoping he still holds that love for me.

           “You’re just, you’re the love of my life,” I wail, hands still covering my face as snot gloms onto my palms.

           “Cricket,” Jungkook wraps his arms around me as his tears fall onto my body. “I love you.”

           “I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just, I didn’t know and I,”

           “Shh, Cricket, it’s okay,”

           “Bunny,” I say, “I’m sorry. I forgive you. You don’t have to forgive me.”

           “I forgive you,” He tells me.

           “You do?”

           “Yes. I’ve watched every member of OT7 lose their relationships, be beaten up over a fake relationship with a mark, giving themselves to someone to have it crumble under direct orders. Jimin is still trying to unravel the Arrow if it all. I didn’t, I didn’t want work to ruin us.”

           “You wouldn’t let it,” I assure him.

           “I wouldn’t, but there’s always the threat,”

           “Are you secretly more cunning than I give you credit for?”

           “Absolutely,” He smirks.

           “I missed you,” I whisper. Can he hear my heartache? We’ve never gone 36 hours apart… not since our first month or two dating. It’s horrible, I hate it.

           “It hasn’t been two days,” His chuckle is light, a sniffle accompanying the sound.

           “I know, I missed you though,” I nuzzle deeper into his side, my nose brushing his neck.

           “I missed you too,”

           “I don’t want to ever fight like that again,” I tell him.

           “I can’t guarantee that we won’t,” He reaches his free arm around his torso, knitting his hands together, solidifying my body to him.

           “Can you promise me something?” I ask.

           “Yes,”

           “I promise not to quote Runaway Bride in its entirety,” I start. “But I will still quote it,” I sit up, eyes swollen and red, finding focus on his marble cut features. “Promise me that when things get tough, when one or the both of us wants out, we’ll remember that we made it through this, and we can make it through anything.”

           “Do you know in your heart that I’m the one for you?” He asks.

           I hate that he leans into my vulnerability, that I’m unable to hide myself from him. I’ve never been able to, not the first night, and not now.

           “I will regret it, every day of my life, if I don’t make you mine,” I recite.

           “Promise me something,” Jungkook starts.

           “The moon and the stars,” I tell him.

           “That you won’t lie to me,” He says.

           “I promise,” I stick my pinky out.

           “You’ll come home to me, always,” He loops his with mine.

           “I promise,” I kiss my right hand, he mimics the gesture. “Do you think, maybe we should –

           “Move in?” He finishes. His gaze holds mine, all hope, no expectations.

           “Yeah,” I nod.

           “Yes, here?” It’s hard to imagine he was just crying, the excitement sweeping over his entire body as he stands up and shakes his fists.

           “Is your lease up?” I laugh, he’s beyond cute.

           “Fuck the lease,” He laughs coming back to the couch. His hands cup my cheeks, fingers gently pressing on my neck, thumb softly caressing my cheeks.

           “Bunny?” I whisper, eyes flicking to his lips.

           “Cricket,” He answers.

           “Lock and key,”

           “Lock and key,”

           “You and me,”

           “You and me,” He leans forward, lips finally meeting. The anticipation of having him in my arms, the ache of his absence over the last day and a half, the unsteady calm of opening your heart to someone… it’s all there in how his lips move against mine, how his tongue gently passes my lips, how his hands move down my body. The opposite of hope is fear, the opposite of pain is joy, as we move together, bodies joining, sweat mixing and names said in pure ecstasy, Jungkook and I solidify what we’ve always known about each other and our relationship.

           Lock and key, him and me.

Next: OT8

[jet-playin-around]

Harry Potter and the Mysterious Puzzle Boxes

Balancing a take away coffee on top of the stack of files he'd taken home the night before and already lost in his thoughts, Auror Potter let himself into his office. A brief flick of his eyes set the little lamp on his desk glowing in the early morning gloom, and he paused before dropping his load on the usually clear surface of his desk.

In the spot he kept clear of paperwork, quills, and general office debris sat an ornate wooden cube, at least twice the size of his first Muggle Rubik’s Cube. He glanced round to the little procession of eleven similar boxes to confirm this was not one of those. He knew it wasn't. Each was different; the first was the size of a matchbox and each progressively bigger, but none were the same size and shape as any other.

This one was new.

Keeping one eye trained on the object, he moved around the desk and slapped the files down, barely managing to save the coffee he'd nearly forgotten was there.

Twelve. Twelve puzzle boxes. One a month, which made this nearly a year since the first. He glared at it, mentally scoffing at its innocent facade. The seventh box - a lovely, decagon shape with marble walls and brass top and bottom plates that opened like a flower when solved - proved they could be malicious when, as he slid the last catch free, a migrating swamp sprang free to wreak havoc on the DMLE. As if Robards hadn't been angry enough with Harry, that day.

Shaking his head to clear it, Harry levitated the offensive cube to join its brethren and steadfastly focused his attention on his actual caseload. Whatever the box contained would have to wait.

-

For the umpteenth time in the past hour, Harry found his attention wandering to the little box. Focus evaded him. As each before it had been, this box was flawless. The biggest and most intricately designed of them all; the wood was sanded and finished, the grooves carved with precision and care. They seemed to suggest a pattern of some sort, but he couldn't begin to imagine what it might be.

Last month's box had taken three days to solve and he just knew this would be more difficult. Whoever sent them was upping their game. Each box was a different type of puzzle, from pin catches to magnetic clasps. That first had been a simple matter of finding the right spot and pressing to release the latch holding the top closed. Something told him this masterpiece would present more of a challenge.

A smart rap on his open door yanked Harry's attention back to his office and the visitor in his doorway. A clench in his gut reminded him of the only real purpose the boxes seemed to serve: they were a welcome distraction from the invasive thoughts of blond hair and razor sharp cheekbones that insisted Draco Malfoy would look a great deal better with fewer clothes and considerably more heat in those cool eyes.

“Draco,” Harry greeted him, satisfied his voice didn't betray the images swirling through his distracted mind. “Is it lunch, already?”

“Half past, actually,” Draco drawled, sauntering into the office. He placed a neatly folded paper bag before Harry, then perched himself on the edge of the desk. “I assumed you were caught up with work. Had I known you were sitting here staring into space, I wouldn't have bothered accommodating you.”

There was a teasing glint in Draco's eyes as he sipped delicately from a steaming take-away cup and Harry snorted, the tension of moments before erased by the ease he felt in the man's presence. Ever since George had taken him on at the shop, Draco had proved himself to be decent company. It certainly helped that he still managed to treat Harry like a person, rather than “The Saviour,” like the rest of the wizarding world.

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” he retorted, digging into the bag to find a sandwich wrapped in deli paper and a plastic case of treacle tart.

He didn't need to unwrap the sandwich to know it was roast beef. Draco always seemed to know what to bring and Harry had long since stopped questioning it. Flipping open the case, he dug out a fork to start lunch with the tart.

“I wasn't staring into space, I was thinking.” Draco rolled his eyes. Harry gestured with his fork. “Got a new puzzle box yesterday morning.”

“Oh?” Draco asked, tipping forward to propel himself across the room. Before Harry could stop him, he reached forward and lifted it to examine the etchings.

“For fuck’s sake, Malfoy,” Harry cried, levitating it out of his hands and dropping it on his desk as he rushed to Draco's side. “It could be cursed, you idiot!” 

“Don't be ridiculous, none of the others were.” His voice was tight, but it didn't matter. Harry could deal with an annoyed Draco, but not a dead one.

“There's a first time for everything.” He snatched up his hands, searching for any hint of curse damage, then lifted his head to check his face, as if he'd find some outward sign of injury. Draco was staring at him, a curious warmth in his eyes, darkening the grey and stilling Harry's heart for a beat.

“Potter?” Draco asked hesitantly, his eyelashes fluttering slightly and he drew a shaky breath.

Before Harry knew what was happening, strong, pale hands darted out, one hooking behind his neck and the other clenching in the fabric of his shirt collar as he was dragged forward. By the time he realised Draco was indeed kissing him - the warm lips on his, the slick tongue tracing the seam of his own lips, were indeed Draco's - he was whirling away.

“Fuck,” Draco muttered. “Shit, I'm sorry Harry, I don't-”

But Harry couldn't hear him, not really. Not when the taste of him was lingering on his lips and the scent of him was circling, adding a dreamlike quality to the entire moment. The sound of his office door banging closed startled him out of his trance and back into his empty office.

Draco was gone. The only tangible evidence he'd been there at all was the bag and Harry's lunch on his desk.

Well. That certainly changed a few things. Settling back into his work, Harry barely gave the box another thought for the rest of the day.

-

On Wednesday morning, Harry let himself into his office and threw himself into his chair, glowering at the box still sitting on the corner of his desk.

He was in a dark mood, frustrated and confused, and dead certain the box was to blame. No, none of the others had been cursed, but this one clearly was. It was the only answer as to why Draco would kiss him - right after touching the blasted thing! - and then run off and avoid him.

“‘Isn't working today,’ my arse,” he grumbled.

Drawing his wand, he aimed every detection spell he knew at it, searching for dark magic or love spells. Anything that would explain Draco's behaviour.

Nothing.

With a growl of frustration, he lunged across the desk and dragged it closer. He didn't feel any different… Peering intently, he began to notice the hairline seams in the panels of wood. An experimental tap had the small bubble of hope in his chest sinking.

Sucking in a breath, he lifted the box again, turning it, tapping various panels. On one turn, he nudged a corner to find the segment shifted, swiveling, so he began to twist other segments, looking for some rhyme or reason to the writhing images on the face of the box.

Before long, he was completely absorbed. Which wasn't to say he was making any sort of progress, he simply couldn't bring himself to put the damned thing down. By the end of the day, he'd accomplished fuck all, hadn't taken his lunch break, hadn't even logged it into evidence - as he'd done with every other box - in favour of cracking the puzzle.

There was nothing for it, he had to take it home for the night.

Thursday came and went in much the same way, with the added bonus of a heated argument with Robards. During which Harry insisted, again, that the boxes were clues to some evil mastermind, clearly intended to attack him with something he couldn't resist: a mystery. And, as he had since the swamp incident, Robards demanded he “give the bloody boxes a rest, Auror Potter!”

But Harry knew he was onto something. The sixth box - a small pyramid of rosewood that was solved when all four corners were successfully flipped upside down - had contained a note with a location, date, and time. He was certain that was where he'd bust this arrogant bastard, but his team had come away empty handed. There wasn't even a skirmish to show for their trouble.

That was when Robards shut him down, furious he'd wasted the time and resources for a wild goose chase. Never mind that the swamp in the next box was clearly retaliation. And what did it matter that the box after that held a contrite apology? The sender was a madman, nothing they did made the least bit of sense.

Harry had considered, of course, that they might be gifts from a fan, but that seemed unlikely. His home and office were heavily warded against fan mail of any kind. Of course, Draco's reaction to touching it seemed to confirm that possibility.

And that was the crux, wasn't it? They missed him and got to Draco, instead. They fucked with the friendship in a way Harry himself refused to. And he wouldn't tolerate it. He was going to solve the puzzle and find out who was sending them.

Then he'd fix things with Draco.

-

Friday was difficult. Draco was avoiding him and Harry couldn't dedicate as much time as he'd like to solving the box. He was called away on case after case, loaded down with paperwork, but skipped lunch to give it some time.

Toward the end of the day, the chaos slowed to a trickle and Harry was back at it, more determined than ever. There was only one of the six sides yet to be solved and he could almost taste the triumph. Just a bit more fiddling…

The sun sank in the window behind him, magically reflecting the sky the offices were too far underground to actually see, but Harry switched on his lamp and kept fiddling.

There! The click he'd been waiting for finally sounded. Followed by… Nothing.

Lifting the box carefully, he turned it to and fro, looking for something, anything, out of the ordinary. A clasp, a lever, anything.

Still nothing.

Groaning, he dropped the box to the desk, then his head to the box. What was he missing? All of the grooves aligned perfectly. They still didn't form a recognisable image, but that wasn't necessary. They aligned.

A soft chuckle drifted through the room and Harry's head snapped up. After a beat, his body followed suit, raising from his chair awkwardly, but making no move toward where Draco stood in his doorway, as he had earlier in the week.

He looked… Well, bloody amazing. It would seem he was on his way out for the night, dressed in a sleekly tailored suit, his hair brushed back but left loose, the way he generally wore it since the war ended. A small smirk curled his lips and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Struggling, I take it?” he asked, gliding into Harry's office and draping his winter cloak over one of the chairs set opposite the desk. He gestured to the box, nodding slightly. “May I?”

The request snapped Harry out of his stupor and he shook his head vehemently. “It's not safe,” he said, avoiding Draco's eyes. “What happened before-”

“Don't be ridiculous, Potter. It's perfectly safe. I am quite good at what I do, you know.”

In spite of Harry's warning, and his best efforts to block the box from his reach, Draco plucked it up and examined it again, holding it mere inches from his face.

“Ha!” he cried. “I knew I'd stump you, eventually.”

With a wicked grin, he set to work, long, nimble fingers twisting and shifting the pieces of the puzzle until a recognizable image began to emerge in the grooves. Very simple, but clearly a rosebud just beginning to open. Harry stared in awe, every protest lodged in his throat as Draco gnawed at his bottom lip in concentration.

“Here we are,” he said at last, placing the box gently back on the desk.

Harry swallowed, curiosity roiling in his stomach, butterflies rising in his chest. The boxes were from Draco? But, that didn't make any sense. The notes inside, the little baubles - toys and flowers… Gifts.

If they weren't from a criminal or a crazed fan, the whole thing could be quite… Romantic.

He swallowed again, determined to maintain an even tone of voice as he asked the most important of the questions circling his mind. Feeling daring, he caught Draco's gaze and held it. “Don't puzzle boxes generally open?”

One pale brow shot up and Draco leaned over the desk, carefully placing the palm of each hand flat on either side of the box. An odd mix of challenge, hesitation, and actual fear crossed his features, but he drew in a breath, lifted one hand, and pushed down on the centre of the rosebud, never taking his eyes from Harry.

The top of the box melted away, revealing a miniscule bundle of cloth nestled at the heart of the puzzle. As he reached in to retrieve it, Draco spoke, startling him.

“Merlin, Potter, but you're dense!”

Harry looked to Draco, a retort on the tip of his tongue, only to find the man seated, watching him cautiously, in spite of his relaxed pose.

“Twelve months, you wanker, and that's just with the boxes!”

It was Draco's voice, in all its heated annoyance, but Draco was not speaking. His voice was resonating from the open box.

“If this doesn't work, I give up. Inside, as I'm sure even you've noticed by now, is your outfit. I had to shrink it in order to make it fit. If you don't think I'm off my rocker by the end of this message, please meet me at La Roux Château at eight p.m. Friday night. Wear the outfit.”

The voice ended abruptly, followed by the sounds of the puzzle closing and resetting itself. At some point, Harry had sunk into his chair, his eyes still trained on Draco.

“It's fine, Potter. You can decline. I just thought you should know they were from me.” Carefully, Draco rose, collecting his cloak and shaking in loose of its folds before folding it over his arm. “I do hope we can remain friends, of course,” he said, striding to the door.

Harry panicked at the sight of him walking away, for the second time that week no less, and lurched into action. He cast a tempus, cursed, then raced after Draco.

“Wait!” he called through the DMLE, thankfully empty at such a late hour. “Damn it Draco, wait!”

Draco stilled, but didn't turn. When Harry reached his side, he paused, unsure how welcome his response would be. Apparently, he was hopeless. Squaring his shoulders, along with his resolve, he stepped forward and took Draco's free hand in his.

Questioning eyes met his and Harry smiled tentatively. “Let's go, then. We still have ten minutes and I'm not dressed.”

Before Draco could do more than open his mouth to protest, Harry drew him along as he made his way out of the DMLE, his mind whirling with ideas of how to display his puzzle boxes.

[blainesebastian]

fic prompts: 4 - "I thought things were going great" and 84 - "Going somewhere?"

Consider this a missing scene sometime after 2x04                    

This is definitely NC-17.

--

They don’t talk for a few days, which is probably a good thing.

After the bar bathroom and watching him smash that car in front of Dean, it takes a while for her to get her head on straight. She wanted to be out, to be done, and yet…him standing there, brute force, demanding a partnership out of her is enticing in a dark way that she rarely lets herself think about.

She tries to convince herself that its his actions, rather than his words, that keep pulling her in. But then again that doesn’t make her feel any better either. What does it say about her? That she’s attracted to someone who can use his hands so violently—whether they’re using a crowbar to smash a car or nearly tearing her dress in a grungy bathroom as he hoists her against a wall.

Telling herself that it’s just physical attraction is a fool’s game, but she plays it for a while.

The second time she wakes up with her hand in her underwear, fingers slick with heat and breathing a little heavy, Beth knows that this is a slippery slope and nearly laughs at the irony.

She pictures him a few times, in her bedroom, smashing things to pieces—muscles flexing and the wings of his bird tattoo fluttering. She cums hard and thinks about him breathing against her neck, the way his body trembled when he lost himself inside of her, his lips kissing along her pulse point.

Her thoughts are everywhere, this whole situation that she never wanted to find herself in is messy. She clamps down on sexual attraction, tries to convince herself that when she stops feeding it, her feelings will go away.

It’s not like Rio’s some sort of prince charming; once the physical is taken away, everything will break down from there.

The only time Beth’s every felt this foolish is when she tried to tell herself that Dean was a decent man, even after cheating on her.

It’s not just what Rio does, it’s not just how his hands move like weapons, gripping iron and swinging or shifting her thighs apart so his fingers can brush against her clit before slipping inside—it’s his mouth. It’s what he says.

It’s his string of words put together so carefully.

We’re partners now.

Beth tries to block that entire night, and the few that came before it, from her memory. If she pretends long enough that they don’t exist, maybe she’ll stop feeling so terrible about them. A voice in her head tells her that she has nothing to be sorry for, that she wanted something and she took it and what’s so wrong with that? but she has trouble believing it fully.

She also has trouble quieting the tiniest part that tells her she deserves everything he’s offering her. A chance to be partners, to be something more than what she is; a chance to learn. Rio brings her back to the same place, every time, because it’s not just his actions…it’s also the raw honesty that seems to wrap around his words like barbed wire.

They dig into her skin, they form scars, they’re something that never quite leave her.

Which is how she always finds herself right back where she started.

Beth runs a hand over her forehead as she collects her things from Dean’s office, leaning against the doorframe to watch a cleanup crew handle another heaping of glass from the shattered corvette. Dean closed down the dealership for a few days, didn’t want anything to do with the sales floor after their run in with Rio but…Beth eventually convinces him that he has to return to work, to business as usual. Her work with a criminal enterprise doesn’t change that.

He’s still being petulant about it, typical Dean fashion in avoiding things that are too complicated to deal with. She finds herself taking care of the cleanup so that he can at least open the dealership back up.

He’s your mess, isn’t he? Dean’s words ring ugly in her head.

She lets out a soft sigh that fans her bangs a little. Yeah. Rio’s definitely her mess, alright.

With a wave to the men leaving out the front door, Beth locks up after them and is about to leave out the back when she notices she’s left Dean’s office light on. Swearing under her breath, she moves quickly, her heeled booties clicking nosily into the high ceilings.

“Goin’ somewhere?”

She nearly has a heart attack, spinning around with a small squeak that she’ll deny later. Her hand falls to her chest as she sees Rio leaning against a silver corvette, watching her with an amused smirk she wants to smack off his face.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, “No, you know what? I don’t want to know. How did you even get in?”

Rio purses his lips, “I’m confused, what question do you want me to answer?”

“None of them,” She puts her things down on a chair in front of Dean’s desk. “I haven’t heard from you and I’m not about to talk business at ten o’clock.”

He leans up from the car, adopting a stance that is recognizable from that night—all folded hands and tried patience, “This ain’t a PTA meeting darlin’, you don’t always get to run things your way. So for future references, we talk business whenever the hell I say so.”

Beth straightens her posture, her entire body going rigid at his tone. She bites down on the edge of her tongue on a few strings of commentary that she’d love nothing more than to give him. But…she glances to the corvette directly next to him.

She doesn’t want another mess to clean up.

Rio follows her line of sight, amused strings pulling up the ends of his mouth. “Oh you think I’m gonna pull a stunt like that again?” He takes a few steps towards her, just close enough that she can smell his cologne.

It nearly turns her stomach inside out.

“I won’t,” He looks down at her, his eyes tracing the contour of her features. “Even though I know how you felt when I did. Could see it in your eyes, just like how I can see it right now. You like a bit of destruction.” Rio goes to touch her face but Beth pulls back, finally gets her wits about her, and smacks his wrist.

“If you’re not here to do business then what are you doing?”

A soft chuckle rumbles in his throat and he lets his hand drop, licking his lips, “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

Now it’s Beth’s turn to scoff, a sound crawling up from her chest as she shakes her head. “Are you kidding? After what you did?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it, just a little.” He tilts his head at her, the muscle working in his jawline. “And here I thought things were goin' great.”

Beth feels anger bubble up from her ribcage as she takes a step back into Dean’s office to gather her things again, feeling Rio follow close behind her. “What gave you that impression?” Her emotions are liquid lava in her bloodstream, crackling like a fire about to give way to an explosion.

She turns and he’s there, of course he’s there, close enough to press her into Dean’s desk.

“The noises you made in that hole in the wall bathroom, for starters.”

“Don’t.” Beth says quickly, mimicking a conversation they’ve had in this dealership before.

The same look is on Rio’s face, that hesitance, that moment he takes to chew on his words before he says them. This time he just takes a step closer, his body nearly blanketing her own. Beth takes a step back but there’s nowhere for her to go, the hard-wooden edge of Dean’s desk stinging into her lower back.

“Or what?” He challenges; waiting for her to make a decision.

There’s supposed to be some sort of threat there, it’s hanging on the edge of her tongue but she can’t bring herself to say it. He’s watching her like he was in the bathroom, letting her make all the choices—to bring him closer or push him away.

It’s all her, it’s anything she wants to do, verdicts that others rarely let her make.

She should go with logic, but in the end,  she goes with what she wants.

Beth presses herself up on her toes and kisses him. It’s slow at first, wary, like she’s not sure whether this will backfire in some way. She also wants to take her time to remember him, to feel his lips against her own, to taste him but doesn’t because it takes three moments for him to reply.

He presses against her and lifts her up, shoving things aside on Dean’s desk. Something falls and cracks, a picture frame maybe, and files and paper go everywhere but she can’t find it in herself to care. A soft moan empties from her lips and she hates that she’s not wearing a dress, wants it to be easy and quick for him to reach her but Rio has no problem getting her pants down.

He does however accidently tear her underwear at the left side and he must catch the indignant look Beth gives him because he smirks.

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.” She huffs, pushing him away so she can shimmy them down.

He shrugs his one shoulder, “Nah, I’m not.” And covers her lips with his own again.

When he fucks her against the desk, it’s not gentle, and just like the bathroom wall his hands are everywhere. Along her waist and thighs, fingers inside of her, coaxing, grabbing, bruising. It’s quick and dirty and before she knows it, it’s over.

They’re both breathing heavy, the scent of his skin and soap melting into her pores, her lips at his throat. She kisses there once, twice, before he pulls back. It takes her a moment to realize that they kissed this time…and they hadn’t in the bathroom. She was so turned on and preoccupied that she didn’t even think about it; she barely memorized the set of movements that led to this.

Beth swallows and licks her own lips, Rio’s eyes drawn to the action as his breathing slows. He leans down, their noses brushing, before she kisses him. There’s no urgency this time, no quickened pace, just the sound of their lips moving together as one.

He pulls back after a few moments, slipping free of her and Beth sits up so she can get herself together. Her body is sore and sated all at the same time, conflicting sensations chasing up and down her spine. She runs a hand through her hair and glances at the floor, the picture frame of her and Dean’s wedding crushed upside down.

Probably a sign.

“You want me to get that?” Rio asks after a moment, following her gaze.

Beth shakes her head and stands, fixing her pants, frowning again over her frayed underwear. She then straightens her shoulders and takes a look at him; his eyes are somehow a little brighter, more amused, cheeks kissed a fond pink against the stubble along his jawline.

More attractive than what seems fair, but she still says what she wants to say: “Don’t talk to me like you can force business whenever you want. We’re partners, you’re going to treat me like one.”

Amusement twitches onto his face and he holds her gaze for a long moment before he nods, caught between snapping back with a reply and being impressed. “Aight.” He says after a few beats. “Whatever you say mami. Should probably clean this up before you go home, yeah?”

It takes her a second, Rio already on his way out but Beth says, “I was actually going to leave it like this.” Because what’s it to her if Dean takes a long hard look and lets his mind wander about what happened in here?

She wonders if he’d know instantly, seeing as how he was so good at cheating on her in this very space.

Rio leans against the doorframe, smiling a tinge as he takes a look at the mess on the floor. “Knew I was right; you like a little bit of chaos. Don’t you.”

It’s not a question as he disappears and Beth stares at the broken glass for a long time before she gathers her things to leave. A little bit is one thing, but she wonders if it’s going to grow big enough to eventually swallow her whole.  

[jennygirl2014]

Raven-Chapter 8

Chapter Summary: Raven and Steve have yet another dispute before she heads off to the safe house.  But before she goes, she leaves him with a little parting present.  She’s got him caught up in her little game.

Warnings: mentions of sex, some language, masturbation.

           For whatever reason Steve still felt the need to address Raven, even after the argument they had earlier, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Fury was hiding something.  He waited until later that night to try and approach her, hoping that Fury and Natasha wouldn’t be around to question him.  He didn’t even know what he wanted to say exactly, but he felt that there were still many things to be said.  He could at least congratulate her on getting her job back, even if it was against her will and not so much of a blessing in her eyes.  

           He walked down a long hallway that was in the basement of the compound, knowing that Raven had been placed there for the night. The hallway was dim, and surrounded by walls of concrete.  He heard the sound of music playing loudly from somewhere in the distance, the bass reverberating off of the walls.  There were two guards standing in front of a door, their guns at attention and facing each other, and he knew that’s were Raven was.  It was also the source of the loud music banging around the hallway. He approached them, being as formal as possible.

“Captain Rogers.” They greeted him.  He nodded in reply.

“Is she in there?” he asked them.

“Yes, and we have strict orders not to let her out.” One of the guards spoke up.

“Well Fury put me in charge of her, and I was just hoping to speak with her for a minute.” They looked at each other, “If I may.” He added, wondering why they were hesitating.

“You’re in charge, Captain.” One of the guards motioned for him to enter.  

“Thank you.” He thanked them and knocked on the door.  First there was nothing, only more music blaring.  He knocked harder and waited to see if she could even hear that he was there. He eventually heard the lock on the door click and it cracked open ever so slightly, allowing the loud tune to invade the hallway.  Raven peeked from behind the cracked door, only exposing her right eye to view him.

“What do you want?” she growled at him.  He tried to speak over the booming music to reply.

“I just want to talk.”

“We already did.” She went to close the door, but he placed his foot against it and kept her from slamming it in his face.  She gave him an icy glare.  “Move your foot.”

“C’mon Raven.” He tried again. “I just want to talk to you.”  

           Her eye stayed on him for a second and then she finally opened the door more, staying behind the frame, but allowing him to enter. He looked around the room, seeing only one lamp, a small bed with a metal frame, a small dresser drawer and another door off to the side that lead into a tiny bathroom.  It was almost set up like the hotel room she had been in when he found her.  Other than that, the room was bare, except for the stereo that was screaming songs to his left.  His ears began to ring from the noise.  “Can you turn the music down?  How do you even think in here?” he asked her, still not turning to see her.  She closed the door behind him, revealing herself to him. She stood there in nothing but a pink towel that was delicately wrapped around her torso, just covering enough of her body to remain somewhat decent.  Her hair was still wet and her dark ringlets were dripping water.  Her body glistened some from the wetness that clung to her skin. He froze when he realized he had just caught her out of the shower, and he kicked himself for having such horrible timing.  But somewhere in the far, far depths of his mind, maybe he considered himself a little lucky because what a sight she was.  

           She walked in front of him and over to the stereo and turned the volume down, but still leaving it loud enough to hear in the background. She crossed her arms and looked at him. “What do you want?” she demanded an answer.  He didn’t speak, he only stood there with his eyes scanning her up and down, counting the drops of water that danced down her body.  

“Uh…” he started and then shook his head in embarrassment, “I can come back later.  I didn’t realize you were in the shower.”

“Well I’m out now, so what did you have to say?” she sounded very unforgiving.  He looked down at his feet, trying his hardest not to stare, and then looked at the stereo.

“What were you listening to?” he asked her.  She slowly shook her head.

“Just some new stuff, I love music. Not that you would be too into that kind of stuff, I mean, you’re like ancient and all.” She insulted him and then added, “And you don’t have to keep looking away.  There’s nothing on me you haven’t seen before.” His cheeks rouged some.  She was right.

“I just…I just…” he stammered, and she gave him a smirk of disapproval, “I wanted to congratulate you on getting your job back.  And I’m happy you were able to reason with Fury.  I think it was a very wise decision.” He spit out the rest quickly. She let out a low chuckle through her smiling teeth and he wondered what had her so amused.  

“Oh please, I make a living off of reading people.  That is not why you are here.” And she walked over to the small dresser and snatched up her open bottle of wine.  “Try again.” She toyed with him.  He stood there clueless of what she was getting at.  Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans he tried again.

“Um…I’m sorry about the argument we had earlier.  I didn’t mean to frazzle you more, I know it must have been nerve wracking being in there.” He spoke very genuinely.  Raven grinned and took a swig of her wine straight from the bottle.  Something about seeing her do that was a bit sexy to him.

“Nope.” She gave him a sly eye, “Very civil of you but, nope. Start over.” He shifted his weight and licked his lips, trying to dig into his brain for something else.  Maybe he had to be straight forward with her.

“Fury put me in charge of you. So, when you come back, we have to establish some ground rules.  I’m not going to be chasing you around everywhere.” He tried to use some authority.  A hardy laugh escaped from Raven and she slapped her hand over her chest. Now he was surely lost.

“Did he now?  That’s fitting.  And to add to that, I think you like chasing me, because you’re chasing me right now.” She sounded almost flattered.  

“What do you mean?” he questioned her as she drank more of her wine.

“Okay Rogers, since you can’t figure it out, I’ll tell you exactly why you are here.” She closed one eye and pointed her finger at him like a dagger, “You still feel guilty about turning me in.  And that’s fine, whatever.  But now that we are behind closed doors, you want to discuss something a little more intimate with me.”

“Do enlighten me.” He was curious as to where she was going with her idea.  She sighed and drank more.

“You may be in charge of me, and that sucks because I am not an easy girl to keep track of, I’ll tell you that right now, you better ask for a raise. But anyway, you feel guilty because I am now nothing but a piece of property to Fury and that is your fault.”

“Technically, it’s your fault.” He reminded her, and then added, “Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m very happily buzzed, but I’m not drunk.” She said with a smile, her words were slightly delayed, indicating that even if she wasn’t drunk the wine was doing its job. “And don’t interrupt me!  After turning me over to Fury, he put you in charge of me, which should suck because you just gave yourself a lot more work. But in a way, you kind of like it.” She pointed at him again and continued to drink.  

“Why would I like that?”

“Because it means a lot more alone time avec moi.” She rattled off in French and he eyed her, “It means with me.”

“I know what it means.” He retorted.   “And you’re wrong because nothing is ever going to happen between us again.  Ever. You understand that, right?” he tried to push his authority more.  Raven gave a happy sigh and shook her head.

“See, I was going to say it’s because you are so hung up on trying to figure me out.  You now have a chance to get all of those unanswered questions solved, and find out who I really am.  Because you think I’m someone I’m really not, and I have told you that a few times, but you just won’t drop it.  You want to figure me out and mold me into some upstanding hero of SHIELD.” And she put the bottle to her lips, “But I already told you, I am no hero.”

“You were a hero yesterday.” He replied, reminding her about the fire.  

“I know what I did!” she fussed, “And it was not to be a hero.”

“So, what, you have a soft spot for children?” he brought up the little boy.  Raven rolled her eyes and took another quick pull from the bottle.

“Why would I want to see an innocent child get hurt?” she held out her hands, “I’m not that much of a monster.” He suddenly realized why he had wanted to talk with her.

“Look, you’re not going to like what I have to say to you, but as another agent of SHIELD I am going to say it.” He spoke very firmly, “Whether you like it or not you are a part of SHIELD again.  This means you have a responsibility to protect people, and that means protecting people in ways that won’t necessarily harm others.  I know you have a file as long as my arm, but you’re going to have to learn to follow orders and keep yourself under control.”

“Can you keep yourself under control, Captain?” she purred the words to him and lowered her gaze. Chills went up his spine, but he ignored it and pressed on.

“What I’m saying is you have to learn other ways of doing things.  You can’t just go around killing people.” She gave him an offended look.

“Is that what you think I do?!” she raised her voice.  “Go around killing people?! ��Well I don’t!”

“When was the last time you let anyone walk away from a fight?” he asked her, and she paused to think.

“I always let at least one go.  That way they can carry the message.” Her words were brutal but she spoke them as if it were nothing.

“That’s what I’m talking about Raven.  You can disarm someone without killing them.”

“You make me sound like such a horrible, heartless bitch!  And I’m not!” she was getting heated very quickly.  Steve held out his hands to calm the situation.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I am in no way calling you that.” He spoke very calmly.

“No, you just believe what everybody else tells you about me.” She shook her head in disgust and took a large swig of her wine.  And then she looked at him, “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Bitch.”

“What?  Why?” he was confused at the sudden turn of direction. She laughed.

“You can’t even swear, you are just too good a guy to do it.  Do you do anything wrong?” and she tilted her head, “Well, besides me I mean.” He balled his fists.

“Stop bringing that up.” He demanded.

“Technically you did, sir. When you came through that door and told me you had something to say and I said you wanted more alone time with me to figure me out, and you took it as me bringing up what happened.  And I wasn’t.  Which proves it.”

“Proves what?”

“That you still think about it.” She said it very quietly.  He huffed and shifted his weight again.

“You owe me an apology.” He took the conversation in another direction.  Raven scoffed and then laughed.

“The hell I do!  For what?”

“For what you called me yesterday.” He did take offense to it.  She thought for a second.

“Oh, you mean when I called you a son of a bitch.”

“Yes, that.” He pointed at her.  “I don’t like being talked to like that.” She let out another laugh.

“I bet no one has ever called you that in your life.” And he glared at her fiercely, “Okay, okay…I’m sorry.” And then she took another sip and wiped her mouth with her thumb, “But you owe me one too.”

“Why?”

“For turning me in.”

“I don’t have to apologize for that, I was doing my job!”

“Right, right, right.” She said sarcastically and turned to walk away.  He noticed a tattoo on her back that he had never seen before.  There were two angel wings on her shoulder blades that stretched down onto her mid back.  He got the sense that the tattoo had a deeper meaning.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” He spoke again, “We should try to at least be friendly with one another if we’re going to be working together.”  Raven turned back around and faced him.

“Maybe you should take your own advice Captain,” she started, “Because the way you’ve been eyeing me since you walked in isn’t exactly what I would call being friendly.” He was caught, and then he grew frustrated.

“I am going to say this one more time…do not bring that up ever again.  Do not bring up there being any sort of possibility of that happening again.  Do not insinuate that there is anything going on between us.  You seduced me against my free will to escape.” And Raven burst out with laughter again, this time laughing until her sides ached, leaving Steve standing there with a red face.

“Against your free will?” she finally found words.  “Oh boy, that’s a good one!  That is hilarious.  Do you tell yourself that to make you feel better?”

“Don’t start with me.” He warned her.  

           Raven ran her tongue under her bottom lip and roughly set her wine bottle down on the nearby stand.  She kept her fiery eyes locked onto him and slowly skulked up to him, letting her hips sway from side to side.  The look in her eyes set Steve ablaze from the inside out, and he stood there waiting for her next move.  When she was only about a foot from him, she slowly undid her towel and let it drop to the floor, exposing her wet naked body to him.  The temperature in the room instantly rose and Steve began to panic. He turned his head to the left and looked away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of him eyeing her.  But it took all of his willpower to not turn back to her.  He had been thinking about that body since that night in Quebec, and now she was giving him the chance to see it again.  

           He heard her let out a low chuckle as she stepped closer to him, and soon he could feel the heat from her body radiating onto his own. He felt her press her body against his, her erect nipples poking against his chest, teasing him mercilessly.  He squinted his eyes shut and held his breath, commanding himself to ignore her and not even think about looking.  But her soft hand grabbed hold of his chin and brought his face back to face hers, and his will was defeated.  First, he looked her in the eyes, they were dark and glistening under the few locks of wet hair hanging in front of her face, her lips were the prettiest pink and plump, and he remembered the soft silky feeling they had.  Soon his eyes fell down lower, looking down at her uncovered body, still seeing small droplets of water dancing down her delicate skin.  He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, rejoicing in the sight he was once again taking in, but this time without even a shred of clothing to hide behind.  All of that authority and strictness left him and he was yet again entranced by her body. Raven tipped her head back and placed her lips dangerously close to his, and they could feel each other’s breath dancing between their lips.

“You were a very willing participant that night.” She whispered against his lips and placed her hands on his strong chest, feeling it rise up and down and his heart racing, “You didn’t have to do it, you could have said no.  But you wanted me so badly you couldn’t resist.  So. don’t put it all on me.” He gulped and looked at her face, “You are here because you got a little taste, and now it’s all you can think about.  It tears you up inside, remembering how it felt to have your skin against mine, the way you felt inside of me, and remembering the sounds we made while you were on top of me and fucking me until we both couldn’t handle it anymore.” She peered up at him with her chin now tucked under his, “It keeps you up at night, doesn’t it?  Thinking about how badly you want to do it all over again.  How many nights have you woken up in a cold sweat thinking about me? How many times have you touched yourself, wishing it was me?” he was being tortured. He closed his eyes, feeling her breath on him, remembering that amazing feeling of being inside of her. “It’s okay, I do it too.  Sometimes I want you inside of me so bad it hurts.” She rubbed the tip of her nose against his cheek, and he thought he was going to explode.  “You’re holding yourself back right now, aren’t you?”

           Against his will his hands found their way to her hips and he slowly wrapped them around her, feeling the smooth softness of her skin again.  The fact that she had just told him that he wasn’t the only one who was being haunted was like music to his ears.  The fact that she had just said she wanted him inside of her again was almost too much to handle.  Her words and the growing pressure in his jeans were taking over him too quickly. He could have grabbed her, laid her down on the floor and had her right then and there if he wanted.  So what was stopping him?  He sighed and put his face against hers, and his hands slipped down onto her thighs.  

           But everything came to a screeching halt when Raven suddenly shoved his hands off of her and roughly pushed him away.  “No!” her tone quickly changed to that of anger. His body ached for the warmth and closeness it had just received from hers.  “You don’t get to touch me anymore.  I’m mad at you.” She finished her remark and turned and walked off.  He stood there, confused and disappointed. She had exposed him, and all just to toy with him, and he didn’t like it one bit.  She kept her back to him and let her hips sway, showing him the perfection of her round ass.  “Besides, it really wasn’t all that good.” She insulted him.

“You could have fooled me.” He spit back at her.  He was incredibly insulted by her words; they had both finished that night completely satisfied done by his part.  

“Yeah well how do you know I didn’t fake it?” she asked, still not looking at him.

“You didn’t.” Steve replied, as it was a matter of fact.  And it was.  Raven chugged the last of her wine in a few big gulps and tossed the bottle at the wall where it hit and shattered.  He jumped at the sound of the glass, perplexed by her sudden outburst.

“Get out of my room.” She ordered.

“No.” he refused.  She turned and gave him a sly look, exposing herself to him yet again.  

“Oh?” she gave an evil grin, and she walked over to the bed, “Perhaps you want to see what I’m going to do next.” And she laid down on the bed, lying on her back with her knees bent. “It’s something I like to do before a mission sometimes.” She added.

“You’re not going on a mission.  You’re going to a safe house.” He reminded her.

“Right, whatever.” She replied and he watched her snake her hand down her stomach and between her thighs. A flame lit deep inside of him when he realized what she was doing, and it was only to torture him even more. She let out a small moan and closed her eyes, biting her lower lip.  The bulge in his pants was now too big to ignore.  But what a sight that was, to see her touching herself in front of him. She opened her eyes and turned to him. “Do you want to lend a hand, Captain?” she purred the words to him and then giggled.

           Steve had endured enough torment for one night and he quickly reached for the door and flew out of it, slamming it behind him. He walked past the guards as fast as he could without jogging, trying to hide the evidence of his arousal as he hurried away.  “Is everything okay, Cap?” one of the guards called out, but he didn’t answer.  In a sweaty rush he made his way to his bike, turned on the engine and sped off into the night.  It was hard for him to keep his focus on the road but he finally made it home in one piece, pulling his bike into a parking spot with a screech and then ran up the stairs to this apartment.  Once behind closed doors he finally let out the air he had been holding in his lungs.  He asked himself, what the hell had just happened?  Yet another battle fought and won by Raven.  Angry and frustrated in more ways than one, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, making sure the water ran hot and steaming.

            He stripped his clothes off and stepped in, feeling the water rushing over his body, trying to get rid of some of the stress.  He groaned to himself, hating that even after the ride home he was still erect and needing release.  Cursing at himself, he reached his hand down and wrapped it around his throbbing member, knowing he needed to take care of it.  He started to envision what was going on in that room he had ran out of, the beautiful woman lying naked on the bed with her hand between her thighs. The sounds she must be making, the warmth and wetness her fingers were feeling, he hated that it wasn’t something he was feeling at the moment.  That feeling that he once felt where his hand now was occupied, it could never be replicated, he needed it again and it could only come from her.  He imagined her face, her breasts moving with her breathing, her saying his name as she came closer and closer…it was enough to finally get him what he needed.  He grunted and placed his hand against the wall as he came, feeling the stress finally leaving his body, but not his mind.  He was humiliated, yet again.  He was so embarrassed by what this woman could do to him, by what she was capable of reducing him to, that he hated her at that moment.  His hand that was against the wall balled into a fist and he hit the shower wall in resentment.  Raven had him right where she wanted him, and he felt pathetic.

Previous chapter here.

[imagination-of-a-melted-bitch]

Confessionals {Kim Wonshik + Jung Taekwoon} ~Naughty November~

Requests Open || Smut Game 1 || Smut Game 2 || Smut Game 3 || Smut Game 4 || Smut Game 5 || BTS Masterlist || GOT7 Masterlist || Monsta X Masterlist

Prompt:  Leo and Ravi X Reader with CEO!AU prompt #1 please

Pairing: Taekwoon x Reader x Wonshik

Word Count: 4k

Warning: voyeurism

"Come on, admit it," Wonshik sighed, sipping his vanilla shake he had gotten from the small restaurant in the building. "...you sit at your little desk all day and she walks in and out and all you want to do is fuck that tight little ass of hers," He leans in toward Taekwoon who was on the other side of the desk, leaned back in his chair, dipping his french fries into the small cup of ketchup. "...don’t you?” Taekwoon eats the two fries held between his fingers, their ends covered in ketchup. He kinks a brow at the scenario set up in his friend's question. He brushed the salt off his fingers and readjusted his tie, he went to open his mouth but there was a knock on the door, "Speak of the devil..." Wonshik smirks before calling over his shoulder to invite you into the office. You push the door open, files under your right arm, a cup of coffee in your left hand. You put one leg in front of the other and walked into the room with confidence. Your hair was pulled back into it's usual, pristine bum, your glass resting on the bridge of your nose, you wore a tan pencil skirt and Wonshik tried not to focus too much on your ass when you took a seat next to him, you wore a black bouse in accompany to the pencil skirt and you never followed the rules of the office, your heels six inches tall-ivory colored, when confronted about wearing the type of shoe, you rolled your eyes and walked away.

"Hello, thank you Ms. Y/L/N for joining us, you'll have to excuse us, we had a late lunch." Taekwoon picks up the trash bin from beneath his desks and clears the contents of his desk, leaving the ivory desk clearer than anyone else's desk in the office-he was kind of a neat freak. You smile at his apology, acknowledging it.

"It's fine Mr.Jung, really, it's to my understanding that we're meeting today to discuss the statistics of the company for tomorrow's business meeting, correct?" You ask laying the file down on the desk, opening it pointing to a few things on the paper.

"Yes, thank you, I heard that it took three hours of overtime to gather these few facts, I appreciate your work." You smile and look over the paper, Wonshik leaning in to do the same.

"Not to lie I feel like the glue of the company, what would you silly boys do without me?" You joke with a light chuckle, crossing your legs, resting on arms on the armrests of the chair. Wonshik quickly glances over toward you, humoring himself by wetting his lips with his tongue. He tried to keep your relationship professional but sometimes his mind wanders as did everyone's and sometimes he thought about bending you over his desk, pushing your skirt up and teasing you with the tip of his cock under you were begging for him to fuck you.

"As you should," Taekwoon sighs, closing the folder, holding it up for the both of you to see one last time before he slid it into his drawer pushing it shut with a loud bang. "That will be all, thank you." You stand up and bow to both the man before walking out the room, shamefully both their eyes follow you out, the timing of the door closing in sync with their gulps. "God she is beautiful." Taekwoon rolls his head and looks to Wonshik who just stares back at him, giving the man a simple shrug. "You're dismissed Kim, I'll see you at the end of the day..." Wonshik pushes his chair back, bows to Taekwoon before turning on his heel and walking out the door, same as you did.

"You really have no clue how much he wants you." Wonshik murmurs against your skin, his fingers coming up around your back to unhook the black bra you had worn to work. "You know what the two of us were talking about before you knocked on the door?" Wonshik asks, his fingers delicately pulling the zipper of your pencil skirt down, and then dropping to his knees along with the skirt, revealing you were wearing no panties. "Naughty girl, I bet he would love this...to pull your skirt up and bend you over the nearest surface and fuck this sweet pussy of yours." He stands back up, pushing you against the vanity, kicking your feet further apart.

"You never told me," You whisper huskily, eyes raking your body, settling between your legs, "What the two of you were talking about before I came into the room." Wonshik kinks a brow, chuckling whilst shaking his head. He grabbed his cock and ran the tip of it against your wet slit,

"I forgot you got off on things like that...the thought of another man touching your body while your boyfriend watched...I wonder how wet you'd get if I sat in the chair I sat in today and watched Taekwoon fuck you on his desk..." He leaned over your body, eyes finding yours in the mirror of the vanity. He places a hot kiss to your shoulder before he pushes into you. You close your eyes, fingers gripping the edge of the vanity, walls convulsing around his throbbing member. "I would pay anything for Taekwoon to see this look on your face, the look as if you're just taking my cock for the first time ever..." He pulls out of you, placing his hands on the outside of yours, resting his forehead against your back before slamming back into you. The thrust full of such force the vanity shakes,

"Easy there boy," That statement has two different meanings, and Wonshik takes heed to both of them,

"I don't know maybe I should just ask him....I know you want to fuck him, he wants to fuck you, I want to watch him fuck you..." He picks his phone up off the vanity and dials Taekwoon's number.

"Wonshik what are you doing?" He doesn't respond and places his phone at your ear,

"Talk to him, baby girl, beg our boss to fuck that tight little pussy of yours...get him to say yes and I'll let you cum." One of your hands come up to hold the phone in place at your ear. Wonshik's hands fall to your hips and he continues his progressive ascent to his onslaught of your pussy.

"Hello, Wonshik? It's nine at night, why are you calling me so late?" Taekwoon's voice rings through the phone and you feel terrible for having called him so late, he sounded like he had been asleep.

"It's not Wonshik, Taekwoon-it's me, Y/N." Taekwoon furrows his brows, wondering what the two of you were doing together at such late hours of the night. "I've been dying to ask you..." You catch Wonshik's eyes in the mirror and they're dark, determined a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, I uh, I, well, to get straight to the point...I see the way you look at me Taekwoon," You coo through the phone after stammering over your words. "I know you want to fuck me," You click your tongue, "That's not right Taekwoon, you're not supposed to want to fuck your coworkers." Wonshik bashfully raises his brows, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. "But if I'm being honest," Your voice drops to a whisper as if you were trying to hide something from someone in the room with you,"I've thought about fucking you as well Taekwoon," The man on the other end of the phone gasps and there's no response besides the sound of the phone being hung up. "The little bastard-" You narrow your eyes, setting the phone down, "-he hung up on me." Wonshik chuckles dropping his hand between your legs, fingers gathering to rub over your clit, your legs shaking, struggling to stay straight.

"Call him princess, get him to say yes to fuck this tight pussy of yours and I'll let you cum." You sigh and pick up the phone again hitting his contact to redial the number.

"Taekwoon?" You moan when he picks up the phone, "I've been thinking about you...I'm ashamed to admit it but you're such an attractive man, and I want to do so many naughty things to you, what do you say Taekwoon..." There's heavy breathing on the other end of the phone and you smile, "Taekwoon, are you touching yourself?"

"Y-yes." He breaths, jerking his hand along his cock.

"Hmm, I wish I could see," You giggle and Wonshik leans in, hearing Taekwoon's moans through the phone.

"We have an offer for you bud," Wonshik speaks for the first time of suggesting you call Wonshik, "My girlfriend, yes, Y/N-the hot girl in the office we're always talking about is my girlfriend, and she wants to fuck you...can you believe that?" Wonshik chuckles, his fingers quickening on your clit. "So the offer is...tomorrow, you're going to fuck Y/N on your desk-you're going to fuck her real good, and real hard, make her cum real hard and I'm going to watch." Taekwoon's breath hitches in his throat before he's cumming, his cum spilling over his knuckles in deep ropes of cum.

"O-okay, fuck, fuck that sounds hot."

"It does...so do we have a deal?" You ask Taekwoon, receiving an almost immediate yes, "Okay then, I'll see you tomorrow Taekwoon, have a nice night." You hang up the phone, hanging your head against the mirror.

"Good girl closing the deal baby girl...cum for me princess...cum for me." Your nails dig into the marble of the vanity, a screech leaving your lips as you shake your head, the orgasm hitting you hard.." You always cum so hard when someone's watching or listening in." Wonshik coos, not being able to enjoy the feeling of you cumming around him, pulling out to cum on your lower back. You look over your shoulder at him, and he chuckles looking up at you. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't wear panties tomorrow, we're in for a big day."

"Are you sure you want to do this Taekwoon? I don't want you to force yourself into anything for our entertainment." The usually cool and calm Taekwoon was nervous today, falling apart at the seems. You sat on his desk, a leg on either side of him as he sat in his chair, eyes nervously raking over your body, Wonshik's chair pulled to the side so he didn't miss a moment of the action. "Taekwoon?"

"Yes! Yes, I am sure. I want to do this," You smile at him, looking over at Wonshik who nodded for you to go on. You cup Taekwoon's cheek, running your thumb over his bottom lip before leaning down, lips crashing into his. He's too nervous to do anything and you can tell by the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip.

"Don't be shy," You giggle, grabbing his hands and moving them to your chest, "I know you're a dom, don't be intimidated by me, I'm still just plain ole Y/N." His squeezes your chest and you let out a small moan for his sake, and as planned this encourages him and he starts to deeply massage your tits, raking his teeth over his bottom lip.

"You're so much more than plain ole Y/N, I've watched you grow over the past four years in all kinds of ways and although I've tried to surpass these feelings I have for you it's incredibly hard to do so. As Wonshik said I sit at my desk all day and you walk in and out of my office and all I want to do it fuck the shit out of you, like legs over my shoulders, making you feel every inch of me, making you scream for me...god, the thoughts I've had about you would make a pornstar blush." Wonshik raises his brows and leans into the scene, his middle-section pressed against the desk.  He was truly interested in the boss' choice of words.

"Such as?" You ask drawing out the 's', placing your hands over his, trailing them down your body, settling on your hips. You move your hands from his and finger walk up both his arms, smoothing out the crinkled suit over his shoulders.

"I-I shouldn't say," He blushes himself and you and Wonshik frown,

"Maybe another time, because I'd sure love to hear those dirty things you think of that'd make a pornstar blush." You move your hands to your lap, using your foot to push Taekwoon's chair back. After you have the room you take your heels off and slide them one by one to the end of the desk toward Wonshik. You stand up in-between his legs, "Unzip my skirt Taekwoon...." His fingers delicately scamper around your back and he pulls the zipper down with eagerness and caution. He pulls your skirt down your legs by the hem of the skirt--his eyes widening when he sees you have no panties on. "Just for you,"

"Sit up on the desk..." You do so without hesitation and he quickly looks over at Wonshik as if asking for permission,

"Don't worry about me...ask her." Taekwoon looks toward you, gently running his fingertips up your leg, You drape the leg over his shoulder, pulling him into you.

"The big boss' face buried between my thighs? Hell yeah." Taekwoon chuckles and wraps his arm around your waist the other holding onto the leg draped over his shoulder. He bows his head and his usually shaggy hair is slicked back, his eyes visible as he darts his tongue out to flick it over your clit. The action is simple, easy but you're already soaked, just from the fact that Wonshik was watching. Taekwoon notices and the first thought to cross his mind is to taste you, to taste all of you. He spreads your lips and presses the tip of his tongue against your clit, dragging it down your slit before pushing it into your tight entrance. You lean back on your left palm, letting the fingers of your right hand bury themselves in his hair, destroying his slicked back style. "Fuck!" He curls his tongue into your g-spot, gently rubbing his thumb against your clit. Your stomach convulses, back arching into his touch.

"Hmmm," Wonshik groans and you look over to find him stroking himself, he winks at you before nodding back toward Taekwoon. You look down at the older man, his eyes focused on your face, watching your every reaction to the way his tongue caressed your patch of nerves, his thumb pressing harder into your clit.

"I'm close," You warn him, "So close, god you are really talented with your tongue!" You let out a breathy chuckle, pulling him closer to your core. Taekwoon's hand comes up, removing your fingers from his hair and he pulls away from your core. "What the hell?" His hands find their way to your thighs, and his juice coated lips pull over his teeth in a smug smirk.

"My cock was growing jealous of my tongue...I need to be inside of you, like...now." He stands from his chair, hands leaving your thighs to undo his belt and the button of his slacks. He pushes them to his ankles, along with his red briefs-the color suited his complexion fairly well. You whistle in appreciation at the length and girth of his cock, he was two inches shy of Wonshik's cock but he was thick, god he was thick. "Do you need anything? Do you need me to wear a condom?" You shake your head, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"I'm on the pill." You smirk, reaching down to place the tip of his cock at your entrance. Your eyes meet his as you use your legs to push him into you. The look on his face was everything as your walls eagerly swallowed him. He held himself up on either side of you, his jaw-dropping, a breathy moan falling from his lips. Wonshik chuckles, his hand leaving his cock as his orgasm neared.

"I had that same reaction first time I felt her." Taekwoon finally opens his eyes, looking down at you,

"Are you going to move?" You tease, wagging your brows. Taekwoon nods, slowly drawing his hips from your form,

"Oh no you don't," Wonshik scolds, "You promised you'd fuck her...fuck her Taekwoon, fuck her good." Taekwoon unwraps your legs from his waist to throw them over his shoulders, he winks down at you before slamming back into you.

"Shit!" You hiss, his thick cock pushing deep into you at this new angle. Wonshik chuckles at your reaction,

"She loves that angle, becomes a fuming mess,  you know you're fucking her good when all she can do is lay there and take your cock," All Wonshik speaks his hand on his cock begins to move quicker, his thumb messily flicking over his leaking slit. Your hands reach up, pulling Taekwoon closer to you, your legs move out to the side and Taekwoon presses his chest against yours. "The most intimate thing is to kiss..." Wonshik runs his index finger over his bottom lip, slowing his hand along his cock. "Kiss her Taekwoon, let her taste herself on your tongue." Taekwoon softly presses his lips against yours, your tongue swipes over his bottom lip and he parts his lips allowing your tongue to lick into the heat of his mouth. You caress his tongue with yours, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. Taekwoon's thrusts are sharp, hard, his cock pushes into you over and over again, your juices gushing around his cock. He reaches over, swiping his entire hand over your clit, his actions jerky, erratic, almost desperate for you to cum. "He's close princess, I can tell by the way he's thrusting into you, the way he's moving his fingers over your clit, almost desperate for you to cum because he's so close." Taekwoon has to pull away from the kiss, his breath becoming harder to catch as he nears his own orgasm. "Fuck!" Wonshik grunts, his seed hitting the side of Taekwoon's desk, the thick and sticky seed dripping down the side of the desk in heavy beads. "I'm sorry-" Wonshik looks up at the both of you from the side of the desk to find you shaking as your orgasm hits you.

"Cum inside of me Taekwoon, fill me with your cum..." Your toes curls and Taekwoon pushes your legs further apart, fingers still moving over your clit until he twitches inside of you, his seed filling you shortly after so. "Thatta boy," You coo, raking your nails against his scalp, tightening your walls around him, easing him through his orgasm as he had down with you. Taekwoon pulls out of you and sits in his chair, chest rising and falling, hair sticking up in every which way.

"Thank you." The two words repeatedly roll off his tongue, and he pulls his briefs and slacks up, weakly buttoning them up and tightening his belt. Wonshik does the same, both men sitting there, trying to catch their breaths. Taekwoon grabs your skirt off the floor and pulls it back onto you, he doesn't bother with the zipper, sitting back in his chair. "So is this going to be a common thing?" Taekwoon looks between you and Wonshik, a hopeful look on his face.

"Wonshik?" You ask, standing up on your shaky legs, pulling the zipper up. "What do you say, baby?"

"If that's what you want." Wonshik smiles watching you slip your heels on.

"Yeah, he's earned his way in." You cup his chin, quickly pecking his lips. "Who knew the boss had it in him, oh yeah, I did, Mr.Kim you're a total fucking dom." You and Wonshik gather at the front of his desk, smiling from ear to ear. You rake your fingers through your hair a few times before settling on pulling it back into a ponytail.

"Okay, that's settled then. I'll see you both later on...for now, you're both dismissed."

[kimjongdaely]

Taken [Chapter 6]

Mafia!AU

Pairing: Suho x Reader

Warnings: Language; may have triggering situations including sexual situations, abuse, violence, etc.

Summary: You were just a normal girl. You were just trying to get by. Until a rather unfortunate relationship brought you to the hands of Suho, the leader of the greatest mafia in the country.

Prologue│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8│Chapter 9│Chapter 10│ Chapter 11│Chapter 12│Chapter 13│Chapter 14│Chapter 15│ Chapter 16│Chapter 17│Chapter 18│Epilogue

The ride was nothing like you expected. You were ushered into the same black van you were first dragged onto when Suho brought you here, but now you’re going on it willingly.

You were expecting a tension-filled, serious car ride, but these six boys were singing to the radio on the top of their lungs while joking and playing card games.

What the hell? This is more like a road trip than a mission.

“What’s wrong?” Chen nudges you with a wide grin. “You look like you're gonna throw up. Car sick?”

“No.” You purse your lips. “Nervous. Aren’t you guys a little too happy?”

“Might as well be happy than worry.” Chanyeol chirps as he drives. “I mean, whatever’s coming isn’t pretty, so we like to calm ourselves down beforehand.”

“Take a deep breath, okay?” Chen smiles at you. “You have us. We’ll be fine.”

“Can you guys explain what the document is?” You ask as they all go quiet. You furrow your brows.

“The document is—” Kai starts but is cut off by a harsh stop of the car. You jolt forward and the seatbelt digs into your shoulder painfully.

“We’re here.” Chanyeol announces as he clicks open the door and hops off. The others follow, getting off the van quickly.

“Stay hidden.” Chen tells you with a hushed whisper. “Keep up.”

“If you get lost or something you’re probably dead.” Sehun nudges you forward with his elbow. “So don’t fall behind, okay?”

You gulp as you nod shakily.

Xiumin goes in first, followed by D.O, Kai, Sehun, Chen, you, and Chanyeol. You enter a large warehouse-like place, similar to EXO’s base, through the vent. It’s small and tight and hard to move in, so it gives you claustrophobia, but you force yourself to keep going.

Don’t fall back.

Don’t fall back.

You keep up with Chen’s speed until he abruptly stops, almost bumping into you.

“Up ahead is the enemies’ main base. There are seven guards in total. More will be waiting after this room.” Baekhyun’s voice rings in your ear and you’re momentarily surprised before you remember you’re wearing an earpiece.

“Roger that.” Xiumin answers as he cautiously peeks through the vent. “On the count of three, we jump and fight, got it?”

“Ready?” Chen whispers to you and you nod shakily as you hear Xiumin counting quietly.

“…Three. Go!” He kicks open the vent and lands smoothly on the floor, swinging knives that were strapped to his forearm. The rest follows easily, bringing down the seven guards without breaking a sweat, while you could barely bring yourself to jump.

“What are you doing?” Chanyeol growls at you from behind, annoyed at your slowness.

“No one taught me how to properly land!” You hiss at him as you watch the others fight below your feet.

“Teach yourself!” Chanyeol pushes you forward, making you lose balance and topple down. You don’t know if you screamed or not, but you squeeze your eyes tight as you feel gravity leave you, the air knocked out of your lungs.

“Keep your eyes open! Watch the ground!” Chanyeol’s voice booms next to you and you force your eyes open, looking down on the floor.

You successfully land, but the force shoots pain through your ankle and you seethe.

“You’ll learn.” Chanyeol lands skillfully next to you, a silly grin on his face. “Practice makes perfect.”

“I wasn’t ready.” You croak as you try to straighten yourself, but grimace at the pain your ankle brings.

“You shouldn’t.” He winks at you. “You’re never ‘ready’ when you’re on missions.”

“Chanyeol—” You start in horror as a man sneaks up behind him, the last guard that’s still standing. He brings a knife over his head to stab Chanyeol, but Chanyeol is much quicker as he swerves around and throws a kick right into the guards’ stomach, bringing him flying backwards.

D.O takes over and you hear the terrifying crack of his neck.

“Good. Let’s go.” Xiumin says as they bound up the stairs to an empty hallway.

“Right. Second last door. There’s a safe inside on the left.” Baekhyun informs as you turn to the way he instructed. Xiumin and Sehun have a gun ready in their hands as they stay on either side of the door. Sehun gives Xiumin a slight nod before he opens the door cautiously, waiting for anything to happen.

Surprisingly, the room is empty and Xiumin furrows his brows.

“The safe must be behind that picture.” Chen says as he pokes his head into the room, looking around cautiously.

They file into the room slowly, all senses on high alert. For now, nothing seems wrong.

“Behind the picture…” You mumble as you make your way over to the painting hanging on one of the walls. You glance at the others who are busy inspecting the room, and decide to take a look and see if the safe is really behind.

“Don’t touch that!” Xiumin hollers, making you flinch, but it’s too late. The damage has been done.

The second your finger touched the painting, alarms are set off and the wall lifts to reveal countless guards waiting to kill you.

“Shit.” Xiumin curses as he pulls you back, pushing you to Chen who gives you a warning look before shielding you. “Get to the door. Quick!”

“It’s locked.” Kai says as he tries to open the door to no avail.

You shake upon the realization that this is all your fault. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“Sh…” Chen hushes you. “Now’s not the time. Fight. Try to stay alive.”

“Baekhyun, can you do anything?” Xiumin says into the earpiece as the enemy starts attacking. Xiumin fires his gun and shoots down three of the guards.

“Working on it.” Baekhyun’s voice seems strained. “This door is sealed with a lot of locks. It’ll take at least seven minutes to hack.”

“Fuck.” Xiumin growls as he brings down a knife on an unfortunate guard’s back.

Battle breaks out in front of you, but it’s nothing like you’ve seen before. Nothing about this is pretty. Blood splatters against the walls as the boys hack down guard after guard, but they seem endless.

Chen is no longer shielding you as he tries to defend himself. He shoots someone through the head and another through his chest.

Fight…I have to fight…You bring yourself to grab your gun and dagger strapped around your waist.

Someone runs up to you with a battle cry and you duck to avoid his sword before you slash against his stomach, kicking him away.

You swirl to another that was behind you and stab at his legs, bringing him toppling down.

You soon realize that what you’re doing isn’t working. All you’re doing is slowing them down, but they jump back up and attack you. They’re used to injuries.

You need to kill them.

The realization makes you want to puke. You’ve never killed; just injuring people already takes a toll on you.

Your heart quickens as another pounces on you, crushing all the air out of you as you collapse onto the floor. You try to block his knife as he brings it down on you, but you’re not as strong as him and you’re slowly losing. You grab your gun and press it against his chest, and his eyes widen in terror.

Your fingers freeze.

They aren’t listening to you.

Your hands are shaking.

Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot. You chant in your mind but it’s useless. His knife is dangerously close to your chest and he seems to realize you can’t shoot.

A sinister grin breaks out on his face as he uses more strength to push the knife down.

I’m going to die.

The guard howls in pain as he topples sideways, off of you, to reveal D.O with a bloody knife in his hand. His eyes connect with yours for a brief second before he pulls out a gun and shoots the man in the head without hesitation.

“Are you okay?” Chen asks worriedly as he hurries over. D.O glances at you again before trotting away to continue fighting.

“I…I…” You look at Chen with teary eyes as he nods, understanding. He pulls you against his chest, but it’s not soothing. His clothes are stained with blood, and so are his hands.

“It’s okay, love. You’ll learn.” His soft tone makes you hate yourself more. You got them into this mess.

You shouldn’t have come.

He pulls away quickly as someone approaches him with a gun. He knocks it out of his hand and shoots him in the stomach.

“Door’s open!” Baekhyun exclaims over the earpiece. “Get out, quick! You have two minutes before it locks again!”

“Finally!” Sehun yells as he finishes off the guard he was dealing with before bounding over to the door with the others. Kai, Sehun, Chanyeol and D.O safely make it out. Chen motions for you to get up as he runs over as well.

“Come on!” Xiumin yells at you as he hovers around the doorway, not leaving until you do.

“Go first, I’ll catch up!” You scream as you pick yourself up despite the burning pain in your ankle and your lungs, as you run over. It’s hard to run with all the blood pooling on the floor, but you’re close.

So close.

Xiumin reaches for you to pull you out.

And then a hand grabs your ankle and the door swings shut, the unmistakable click of the lock echoing in your ears.

No.

No.

No.

So close.

“Let go of me!” You screech on the top of your lungs as you fight against the man’s grip, but more come to hold you down.

Fear fills your eyes with tears as you hear banging on the door and the call of the other boys for you.

“Calm down,” Baekhyun’s urgent voice sounds in your earpiece. “I’ll try to open the door again. Just try to keep the guards away.”

“I…I can’t.” You cry desperately. “I can’t.”

“You have to.” A different voice sounds. It’s Suho.

The sound of his voice makes your throat contract. You struggle with all your might. You feel a few hands loosen and one of your arms break free. You try to free your other one, but you didn’t know someone else was behind you and before you know it, a sharp pain shoots through your arm. Your sight goes blurry.

“Su…ho…” You try to call for help, but you feel yourself falling and everything goes black.

“Door’s open!” Baekhyun announces and immediately, Chen and Xiumin open the door to reveal all the corpses, but no sign of you.

“Fuck,” Xiumin growls. “We’re too late.”

“Come back first then.” Suho’s voice orders coldly. “Get out of there.”

“But—” Chen starts to argue, but Xiumin shoots him a glare to shut him up.

“Leaders’ orders.” He says flatly. “Let’s go.”

You wake up to a dull throb in your head. You scan the room that you were in. It seems like a dungeon.

You try to move, but you find your wrists bound by chains against the wall and your ankles also bound. You wiggle a bit but seethe at the pain in your ankle.

You look down to find it bruising, an ugly shade of purple and green.

Panic surges through you as you move your arms, hoping that the chains will break.

“You’re being noisy.” A foreign voice sounds and you freeze immediately. Footsteps echo off the stone walls. A man appears before you, a man who looks absolutely harmless.

He smiles at you through the bars of your cell and it makes a shiver run down your spin. “What’s wrong? You don’t look very happy.”

“I don’t think anyone will be happy if they’re chained and locked up like this.” You hiss and he lets out a laugh.

“That’s true.” He smiles again and cocks his head. This man irks you. “Now, be good. If you’re good, I’ll take it easy on you. If you fight us, well,” he chuckles darkly, “we’ll give you hell.”

“What do you want with me?” You bite as you struggle against the chains. “Holding me hostage won’t do anything.”

“I know what Suho wants.” He grins evilly. “And he knows what I want. With you though…I suppose everything’s more to my favor.”

You laugh, letting it echo off the walls loudly. “You’re an idiot. Suho won’t come save me. Don’t you know? I’m just a tool.”

He smiles sweetly. “We’ll see about that.”

Previous Chapter│Next Chapter

Taken Mini Masterlist

A/N: DUN DUN DUNNNN! How’s that for a chapter? Tell me what you thought about it! Is it getting a bit more exciting? Did you like it? Thank you for reading!!!

©kimjongdaely

Request and let’s love!

[neubauje]

BEGT ch. 8

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 AO3 mirror

The commute back to school is significantly more crowded during the middle of the day, with most seats occupied and some passengers standing, clasped to poles or hand rails. Despite this, Toshinori is somehow able to charm their way into the two seats against the wall again, probably with the help of Aizawa looking injured and grumpy behind him. A few pairs of eyes are on the two travelling teachers this time, but Aizawa doesn't seem to mind when that long arm wraps around his shoulders again, keeping him steady for the length of the commute. Hidden in a bit of a disguise between the powered-down form, a trench-coat, and Eraserhead covered in bandages, eventually they fade back into obscurity from the disinterested observers, and Aizawa leans in against All Might's side once again, not saying a word. Rather than falling asleep this time, though, he reads over Toshinori's shoulder as the taller teacher scrolls through the morning's news on his phone. It thankfully remains free of anything too terrible or local, and would hopefully stay that way for the remainder of Shota's healing period.

After he finishes catching up, Toshinori flips to a game of Sudoku, and Aizawa follows along with his eyes for a while before he grows bored of the pace and switches to a bit of light teasing. "So... 'little Yagi,' huh?" (more under the cut)

All Might stiffens in his seat, fingertips digging into Eraserhead's shoulder as he coughs up a bit of blood and then queasily swallows it back down again, glaring at Aizawa with a scowl. "Don't be like that, now. Mrs. Ogawa is an old friend of the family. She watched me grow up, and... I guess the nickname just stuck, despite my best efforts to grow out of it." He tries to relax, and gives a silent apology by rubbing over the area he'd squeezed at too firmly.

"Uh huh. So that's what caused your gigantism, is it?" He chuckles and gently nudges Yagi in the ribs, then leans in against him with a soft sigh as the train sways around the corner, letting his gaze drift out the window to watch the skyscrapers whiz by. "So how did you end up as her next-door neighbor?"

"Oh, that was some incredibly lucky timing. She'd heard that I was looking to move back into town, about a year ago, and let me know the instant there was a vacancy. To this day I still wonder if she might not have had a hand in that vacancy somehow, especially with it being right across the hall like that..." All Might laughs nervously, then shakes his head. "But aside from that, it really is nice to have her there. Apart from Gran Torino, she's the closest person I still have to a parent, even if our paths don't usually cross too often." The two passengers fall silent for another moment, Toshinori staring down stonily at his phone until it idles into darkness, before he turns to regard Aizawa with a gentle tone, "What about you? What's your family like?"

Aizawa is silent for so long that the question hangs between them, about to fade away into 'don't ask' territory, before he finally speaks. "I don't actually know. I lost contact with my mother and sister shortly after my quirk developed, and... I don't keep tabs on my old man. To my knowledge, there isn't anybody else." His tone of voice makes it apparent that this is not a favorite subject.

Toshinori grimaces and tries to reply without making it worse. "Gosh, Shouta, I'm sorry to hear it..." He squeezes once more around his friend's shoulders, pulling him into a bit of a hug. "I know how lonesome it can be to live alone, even if it is a luxury. That's... part of the reason I wanted to help you out like this, actually."

"Thanks, Yagi." While Aizawa may not be able to crane his neck to look up at his temporary caretaker, he does try his best to smile at him from under the gauze. "You're helping more than you probably realize."

It's nearly time for lunch period by the time the two arrive, and the students are starting to file indoors from their morning bout of training for the Sports Festival. Toshinori tugs at the lapel of the trench-coat, trying to keep from being noticed as he and Aizawa head for the teacher's lounge and the nurse's office, respectively. All Might uses the privacy of the lounge to make a call to Thirteen to talk over his idea for playing a villain role during their simulation, and then to change costumes for the part. Aizawa joins Aoyama in the nurse's office, giving the fashion-savvy lad an incredulous eyebrow raise. "How did you manage to get yourself hurt on day one of training?"

Yuga only tilts his head proudly into the ice pack he's holding up to his noggin, flashing his teacher a dazzling smile. "Why, I must have made too good a target, of course!"

"Whatever. When you're done recovering, meet the rest of your class in the cafeteria already; make sure you're fed before we head back to the USJ this afternoon." Aizawa watches him go once Recovery Girl is done with him, then sits up a little straighter when she turns to join him by the bedside.

"So?" Recovery Girl smiles coyly as she pulls up her chair and starts to take down Aizawa's vitals, "How was your first night staying with All Might?" She shines a small flashlight into his eyes for a second, then frowns and administers a few eye-drops into each one.

Eraserhead leans back to accommodate, blinking in the refreshing liquid, then sits back up and tilts his head a little. "It was... surprisingly nice, actually. A little rocky at first, since he wasn't expecting company at home and hadn't been taking very good care of himself, but it improved quickly enough. He's every bit as considerate as I didn't really expect him to be." Remembering the tender gestures (an arm around his shoulders, a shared love of cats, a breakfast in bed), Aizawa can't help but smile to himself. "He's a little more touchy-feely than I would usually allow." Seeing Chiyo's concerned frown, he quickly corrects, "Not like that. He's been nothing but a gentleman, nothing inappropriate beyond what's necessary to get the job done."

The nurse nods appreciatively, both surprised and not, to hear that Toshinori is actually living up to his word, even in this regard. "You do seem to be more well-rested than yesterday. And if I might say, Shouta, your hair looks a lot better than it has in my recent recollection. Healthier."

Aizawa follows her gaze, going cross-eyed to get a better look at the bangs hanging in his peripheral vision. He huffs good-naturedly, and blows the lock of hair to the side. "Amazing what a couple shampoos and a deep conditioning will do. He really went all out."

Recovery Girl laughs to herself, glad to hear that a spark of connection has drawn these two isolated teachers a little bit closer together, even if mostly by chance. Leaning forward in her chair to plant a healing kiss to Aizawa's forehead, she worries softly, "And you said he wasn't taking care of himself?"

The stoic hero droops a little as a new wave of exhaustion flows over him, and shakes his head. "He mentioned having almost no stomach? That he's supposed to be snacking almost constantly, but has trouble sticking to it. It sounds like he'd been letting himself get horribly under-nourished. I'm hoping I can encourage him to get better about it, but... if there's anything you can do to bolster up better habits here at school too, it would probably be for the best."

She nods and tugs at the loops of Eraserhead's scarf, unbuckling the hidden brace to carefully inspect his neck with her fingertips. "I'll speak to Nezu about making some additional arrangements. Is this still sore?"

"Not anymore, thanks." He takes a moment to slowly stretch his newly-freed neck in all directions, appreciating the reacquired mobility. It would certainly make 'typing' much easier. "I'd better get going, they'll be waiting for me by now." He pushes back up onto his feet and bids goodbye for the day, then heads back to Class 1-A, ready to usher them onto the bus back to the USJ for a (hopefully) more successful try at the rescue lesson which had wound up setting them down this path in the first place.

It's a little eerie, the sense of deja vu which settles over the class as Thirteen greets them again, All Might goes missing again, and Aizawa dismisses his absence nonchalantly again. But the first rescue exercise goes off without a hitch, and the fake villain ploy resolves into a spectacular show-down, even getting Todoroki in on the mischief in his own way. The emotional fallback is about what Aizawa had expected, but nothing too terrible. And once again, Midoriya winds up as the only casualty, with his strange self-harming quirk. All in all, not a bad day at all. Aizawa ends up asking Thirteen to escort the class back to the main UA campus, while he stays behind to help free All Might from Mineta's trap. He reminds the students of their homework due in two days, praises them for their good work in the USJ, and allows them to leave for home early once they've checked back in on main campus. He watches them go, still mentally re-playing the excellent shows of teamwork they'd displayed throughout the lessons. As the bus pulls away, Aizawa turns back to All Might.

"Well that went about as expected. I hope you learned not to toy with others' emotions like that again." He shuffles closer and sighs, "So now we have two options. We can wait it out until Mineta's quirk wears off, which could be an hour or so... Maybe even break that slab into chunks, if that would help. Or," He leans in to get a better perspective of the positioning, "It looks like you could just release your 'All Might form' and slip out of the clothes, leave them behind."

All Might sputters and coughs up a splatter of blood onto the concrete slab, straining back to get a better look at Aizawa. "That would be the more logical option, yes, since by now Mineta's quirk will surely outlast mine. You're sure you can't just neutralize it?"

Aizawa shakes his head. "I'd erase his ability to grow back the new spheres instantaneously. It wouldn't affect the spheres themselves."

The pinned hero sighs and gently butts his forehead against the back of the villain mask, the tell-tale trails of steam already starting to waft up from his muscles. "Very well, then. Don't look."

Aizawa quirks an eyebrow and shifts his weight to one foot. "Really. We're surrounded by cameras, you know, and I don't have the access to turn them off. Plus, you've already seen ME naked, so fair's fair, right?" He smirks and taps his foot, amused by the sudden bout of bashfulness from the most outgoing man he's ever met.

Toshinori shoots Aizawa a dirty look as he poofs back to his smaller profile, then pulls his hands free of the gloves and ducks out of the now-loose turtleneck shirt, leaving it and the spiked shoulder guards hanging from the spheres on the slab. He unbuckles his own utility belt, then tries to bend over to untie his boots, but can only manage to get to one of them. He tries to slip his foot free but curses softly when he finds that it's not stuck to the concrete. Without being asked, Aizawa approaches and uses his foot to hold the shoe still while All Might pulls his own foot out and shimmies the pants down over his hips, careful not to accidentally touch any of the leftover spheres, then swings his leg free and stoops to awkwardly get his other foot loose too. Aizawa stands idly by, his grin widening by increments at first the absurdity of the positioning, then at the bald eagles printed on the fabric of Yagi's boxers. "I guess it's a good thing I stashed my trench-coat here, instead of back at the main campus," the nearly-nude teacher grumbles and slips his shoes back on, meandering off to a nearby decrepit building to go get his coat.

Aizawa shakes his head and laughs softly to himself, though quickly sobering as he really starts to get a whole picture of the war-weathered, emaciated body of the Symbol of Peace. He had seen that gruesome abdominal scar up close, after all, as Toshinori had struggled to free himself. It made the erasure hero cringe internally at the sight of it... No wonder Yagi was reluctant to show it off. Shouta makes a mental note to ask Thirteen to return All Might's cargo pants and turtleneck once they'd fallen to the ground, as the space hero would probably end up being the one to tidy up the USJ for its next usage. And, on second thought, they would probably want to have this last bit of footage erased from the cameras, too.

Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 (rated M) - Chapter 11 (rated M) - Chapter 12

[hotdamnvoltageman]

extra shot

kota igarashi x mc (misaki kasagi)

a/n: so idk if anyone even remembers this series exists, but if you did: ta-dah!!! basically, coffeeshop!AU fics are always longer than my standard fics, so it took more time than i expected, and coupled with my sudden rise in popularity in the slbp fandom it took even longer — but i did it!! and here we are!! thanks to everyone for their support <3 also thanks @oh-well-this-is-awkward for encouraging my coffee pun titles, and @jemchewreadsfanfiction i warned you ahead of time~

(also, can you tell i really love the mc’s canon bff rina from the app? because i love mc’s canon bff rina.)

Misaki glances up from the till, her eyes catching for the umpteenth time that day on the stranger in the back right corner.

She shouldn't call him a stranger, really, she thinks, furrowing her brow. He comes in at least once a week, and has been for almost two months now.

She just doesn't know his name. Or anything about him, except that he likes video games (judging by the stickers on his MacBook), sitting in corners away from the windows, and lots of espresso.

Lots and lots of espresso.

She hurriedly looks down when his eyes flick up from his laptop screen, his gaze both confrontational and curious. She stares at the lazy circles made by her damp rag on the countertop, pretending to be engrossed in her work.

One other thing she does know about the stranger: he has quite the sharp tongue, and he's not afraid to use it. He gives off the air of being constantly irritated, gaze (glare) shifting like a cat's, chin high despite his pale gray hood being pulled resolutely up at all times.

Despite all the scowling and hiding in the corner, though, he's actually not bad looking — and he always leaves good tips, which is a point in his favor as far as Misaki and Rina are concerned. His voice is nice, too, from what little she's heard of it. She imagines it would sound nicer if he'd stop seeming so angry all the time, or reply with more than one word answers.

Misaki glances up again and is saved from his piercing glare by Rina, who comes swinging through the front doors with a little wave and a plastic bag hung over her wrist.

"Lunch is served!" She chimes, setting the bag down on the counter in front of Misaki.

"I'll take register. You go eat before you wither away," she jokes, poking at Misaki's ribs. Misaki shies away from her friend's touch, swatting at her hand and laughing affectionately.

She almost, almost forgets the pair of eyes glaring daggers into the back of her head, and hastily retreats into the back to hang up her apron.

She picks a table along the back wall with just one chair (her usual lunch spot) and digs hurriedly into her lunch. She overslept and didn't eat breakfast (unless orange juice constitutes as breakfast, which, she thinks, it might as well with the amount she drinks), and the second she smells food she's ravenous.

And then she feels the eyes on her again.

She glances up, and there's the sort-of-stranger, eyeing her almost suspiciously. She smiles a little, offers a small wave with her chopsticks still in hand—

He turns abruptly away and back to his computer, rapidly typing away. She frowns at him while he's not looking, and resumes her lunch at a healthier pace, conscious of her actions so as to not attract his glare. When she feels his eyes on her again, for whatever reason, she stares resolutely at her lunch, ignoring him. It's easier said than done, considering she keeps fumbling her chopsticks due to her anxiety, but she pretends to be absolutely caught up in her own world.

"Hey," says a familiar and somewhat angry voice, and she drops her chopsticks like an idiot as she jumps in her seat.

She looks up, and there's the stranger, standing at the other side of her table where there is no chair, glaring down at her.

"Hi," she blurts, then, composing herself with a smile, "Is there something I can help you with?" His expression shifts, just slightly, so he looks less angry and more confused. Altogether, he looks disgusted, and she has enough of her wits about her to feel almost insulted.

"Are you busy?"

"Not at the moment," she replies, as clipped as he had been. Surprise flashes in his eyes, but, instead of speaking, he pushes her lunch to the side and sets his laptop down in front of her. She winces as the chair he grabs from the next table over bumps along the floor.

"Um—"

"Have you ever played a video game before?"

She blinks, but his expression denotes nothing but absolute seriousness. A small part of her, buried beneath all the confusion, wants to laugh at the question. Instead, she nods.

"Yeah, I've—"

"Good. I need you to beta test this for me," he whips the laptop open as he speaks, typing rapidly for a few seconds before turning it to her. She meets his eyes, realizing that this is the first time she's been this close to him without taking his order. His bangs fall slightly into his eyes, which are a lighter shade of brown than his hair — he's actually really pretty now that she's getting a good look at him, and his jawline—

"What, are you dumb or something? Stop staring at me," he snaps, and she immediately rears back on the offensive.

"I'm not dumb! I just zoned out." The stranger blinks, color still high on his cheeks then mutters something under his breath as he looks down at the table.

"What was that?" She asks, forgetting that he's still technically a customer, and he snaps his gaze back up to hers.

"I asked if you were gonna play or not, space alien," he quips, and she furrows her brows.

"'Space alien'?"

"Because your head's always up in space! Just, play my game already!" She opens her mouth to snap a retort, then remembers that she's in her own cafe and probably shouldn't go insulting her customers. She takes a deep breath and looks down at the computer screen.

“Your game?” She asks, and he sighs, long-suffering.

“Yes. I designed it.” Despite his tone, he looks proud, almost fond, and she smiles. That explains all the game stickers and why he’s always on his laptop. She looks away before he can criticize her for grinning again.

The controls, typed in a standard white font, hang on the black screen before her. From what she can tell, it seems to be an adventure-based game, and she hopes that there are no sudden scares to send her careening out of her seat as she presses 'start.'

The game is fun, she has to admit, but she doesn't get far before the timer on her phone warns her that she only has five more minutes on her lunch break. The stranger gives her a curious look, and she turns the alarm off.

"My break is ending. Sorry—"

"I'll save your game," he cuts in, turning the laptop back to face him.

"Name," he demands, voice too flat for it to be a question.

"Misaki," she replies. Then, after a moment, she extends her hand. He snaps the laptop closed and looks from her to her hand, seemingly unimpressed, before returning the handshake at the last moment.

"Kota." He stands, sweeping the laptop under his arm. His fingers leave warm trails on her palm when they pull away.

"Thanks," he says, an afterthought, then turns away. She watches as he walks out the door, leaving her sitting, stunned, at her table.

Rina pesters her for details as she ties her apron on in the back, after.

"His name is Kota," she says, looking at the table he has occupied. "He has warm hands."

Rina rolls her eyes.

He comes into the coffeeshop the next day, orders a cappuccino with two extra shots of espresso (she's concerned for his heart), and, as she's passing it to him, does something unexpected.

"Thanks, Misaki."

It takes her a moment to realize that, one, that's her name, and, two, he's talking. To her.

And not in a mean way.

"No problem!" She chimes, a little hasty and with a too-big smile. She wants to slam her head against the countertops. Repeatedly.

She doesn't, simply because there's nobody but her and Rina working.

Her lunch break is delayed thanks to a midday rush at the coffeeshop, and she collapses into her usual seat as soon as she possibly can.

She's about halfway through her bento when a shadow falls across her table. A glance up reveals Kota, laptop tucked into the crook of his elbow, staring down at her with one eyebrow quirked just slightly.

"Care to sit?" She asks, voice calm if only because she's too tired to be nervous.

Something close to a smile works its way into the corner of his mouth, and he pulls the chair over.

"I opened your save file," he says, turning it to her. She can't help but notice there are new items in her inventory.

"I—"

"Those are items you would have earned in your last run." She nods, pleased with his explanation, and continues on her way.

She gets killed twice by the same enemy, and her phone alarm goes off as she slams her head (gently) against the table.

"In the finished game, you can work in a party to beat a boss like that. I didn't think you'd get that far." She's almost offended, but when she looks up at him he's smiling.

It's attractive enough to make her forget her words, so she just shrugs.

He stays a little longer that afternoon, but eventually he leaves, and she can't help but feel a little disappointed.

They repeat the same routine for almost two weeks, and Kota's seat moves around the table until he's at her side, watching her movements. She's surprised to find it doesn't make her nervous to have him there. Rina digs for information in the evenings, when they're supposed to be resting, gushing about "the way you two look at each other" until Misaki slaps her with a pillow to shut her up.

She refuses to let herself think that there are feelings involved, even if Rina says she's lying to herself.

(She's definitely lying to herself.)

When she finishes the game, Kota nods his approval, and he smiles at her as she gushes excitedly about her victory, even going so far as to take his hands in both of hers. He doesn't seem to mind, which is surprising, but also it's something she doesn't notice in the moment. There are a million thoughts running through her head and it feels like all that espresso he downs is running through her own bloodstream.

Her alarm goes off and she's back behind the counter, still jittery with glee, and Kota glances back from the door as he's leaving.

There's a moment, small, where her heart stalls and his eyes catch and they stand mere feet apart, and yet he seems completely out of reach.

Someone else comes to the door, and he looks away as he slips out, quickly disappearing from view.

He stays away for a week. She tries not to think about it too much, but she knows her smile falters every time she looks up at the door and finds someone else walking in. Rina tries to stay positive, but even she is confused — they had made progress, hadn’t they? Misaki would have almost called them friends, or just short of it, anyways.

She shakes it off, and lifts her chin high. If he isn’t willing to put in the effort then, well, he’s just not worth it.

But the heart wants what it wants.

One week soon becomes close to two before she sees him again, and the circumstances are nothing short of strange.

It happens like a scene out of a movie — she can see him just out the window, and he's running with his laptop tucked under his arm and his hood up, face tinged pink. The door swings open, the bell jingles loudly, and he stares straight at her as if they have a problem to sort out.

(Which is ridiculous, she thinks, indignant and confused. If anyone has a right to be glaring intensely at someone, it's her.)

She raises her eyebrows at him and smiles.

"How can I help you?" She asks, voice cold, polite, void of genuine emotion, and he has the decency to look at least momentarily shocked by this revelation.

"When's your break?" He asks, and it's so strange, to hear him talk just the same way after disappearing for a week and a half. She glances at the clock by the door.

"Fifteen minutes," she replies, and he almost slams his card on the counter.

"Large iced americano, extra shot," he says, already digging out cash to put in the tip jar. She casts glances at him, but can't for the life of her place why he seems so nervous.

She shrugs it off, hands him his receipt, and almost walks away before he says,

"I have something to show you."

His voice is softer, as if he feels a little guilty, but then he walks away from the counter — directly to her lunch table.

She wants to feel offended, or angry, but she just feels confused. He takes his order a minute later without a word, going straight back to his laptop.

Her break rolls around once he's about a third done with his drink, and she hesitantly joins him at her table.

"So," she starts. "You had something to show me?"

Her heart hurts when he looks up at her, because there's a light in his eyes that never used to be there when he looks up to nod at her, and she wants to ask why he left like he did — why he just abandoned her so suddenly. She knows it's nonsensical, feeling the way she does, but she can't help it; she likes him.

She likes Kota.

And she'll admit that, for a moment, she thought he liked her, too.

He turns the laptop to face her, but remains on his side of the table, gaze fixed on her face, as if to gauge her reactions. Her heart beats so loud she can hear it in her ears.

The game on the screen looks like a simple 8-bit style RPG, like an older horror game. She's surprised, to say the least — it's a complete departure from his last game.

"This is new," she remarks.

"Just play," he replies, but it lacks its old edge. She glances up and his cheeks are tinged red, and he averts his gaze to look at his drink instead of her.

The main character of the game is a girl with brown hair kept up in a bun, ugh like her own, and he already made her a save file under her own name.

But then things get even stranger.

As her character walks through town, she encounters a coffeeshop terribly similar to her own — out of curiosity, she sends her inside.

It's so accurate it's freaky, actually. Every table is in its rightful place, down to the chairs stationed there. She glances at Kota, but his eyes dart away from hers again, almost done with his cold press.

The game doesn’t seem to have much of a purpose, that she can see. She walks around the coffee shop, exits it, and finds almost nothing in the surrounding world of the game. None of the other buildings can even be accessed, so she returns to the coffeeshop in the hopes it will give her some answers.

When her character approaches the till, she has the option to buy a drink. Even though she hasn’t done a single thing, her character has money — so she buys a drink out of curiosity. She takes her character to the ‘usual’ table, the only one not occupied by stock characters, and starts to ask Kota what all this is about—

Another character enters the scene. A character that looks suspiciously like him, gray jacket and all, that item-drops a chair across the table from hers and produces a little cup of coffee, too. There are no dialogue options, even when she hovers the mouse over his character — but when she clicks, a little speech bubble appears above his head.

There are no words in the bubble, just two symbols: a heart, followed by a question mark.

She may or may not almost fall out of her chair when she glances up to find Kota staring her down, the tips of his ears bright red and his cheeks similarly pink.

“Um—“

“I didn’t have a lot of time,” he interrupts, redder by the second, and she furrows her brows.

"Kota?"

"Do you like movies?" He asks, suddenly, and although she's taken aback she's quick to respond.

"Yes. But what—"

“The new Joe Watabe movie is coming out this weekend. We should go.”

There’s a pause, and she isn’t even sure if she’s breathing anymore.

���Together. Us.” His face has, somehow, gotten even redder.

“Like a date?” She asks, before she can stop herself, and if the floor were to swallow her whole in this moment she would be extremely grateful. Kota looks as if he feels the same way, but the only indication of it is the blush on his cheeks — his expression remains stoic as always. She looks down at the screen again, where the little heart and question mark still hover on screen, and presses her lips into a thin line.

“This was stupid,” he suddenly grinds out, and snaps the laptop shut. The chair scrapes back, and her heart skips a beat — her fingers are twisted up in the fabric of his sleeve, and she’s preventing him from leaving before she can think of what she’s doing.

“Wait, Kota, I…” She bites her lip, suddenly embarrassed under the scrutiny of his gaze. When she speaks, her voice is softer,

“I’d like that.”

The clouds over his face suddenly lift, and he smiles. She’s never seen him smile like that, all soft edges and gentle, and it makes her heart flutter. He slips his hand into hers, and it’s still surprisingly warm, and everything is so different from what she expected — but she’s far from disappointed.

“Saturday?” He asks, and she’s too caught up in this new side of him to do anything but nod her head, dazed.

He’s dazzling, that’s it. He’s dazzling when he smiles. And he just keeps smiling—

The alarm on her phone goes off, and as they both look at it on the table he suddenly stops smiling, flushing bright red and retracting his hand awkwardly. It’s endearing, in its own way, how the way he suddenly tries to duck a little further into his sweatshirt, holding his laptop close to his side and looking off to the side. She almost, almost laughs, but she doesn’t want to wound his pride.

He notices her smile anyways, and fixes her with something she can only describe as an affectionate glare.

“What are you smiling for?”

“You’re cute,” she teases, just because, and he turns impossibly more red but also more serious. The set of his jaw is suddenly tense, and she starts to think of how to apologize for running her mouth—

Except she doesn’t have time to, because suddenly he’s kissing her and every train of thought goes flying off the rails into oblivion because, oh my God—

He pulls away, looking almost reluctant before smirking triumphantly at the look on her face; she can feel her cheeks burning and she wants to be angry at him, but…

She just can’t be, when he looks like that.

“See you Saturday,” he says, and leaves her just like that, shell-shocked.

“Oh my God,” she hears Rina say from the counter, echoing her own thoughts, and Misaki whirls around to find her best friend staring at her, having obviously seen everything.

“Not a word!” Mistake hisses, making for the counter as fast as she’s able. Rina doesn’t speak, but the grin on her face says it all and it makes her flush with embarrassment and anger.

But even so, her thoughts drift to Saturday, and, inevitably, Kota — and she can’t keep the grin off her face.

[zxrivcs-blog]

i’ll be watching you ✿ zoe, tori & miles.

TAGGING  → Zoe Rivas, Miles Hollingsworth, Tori Santamaria & Gabe Bishop.

TIMEFRAME  → February  17, 2017.

NOTES  → After finding out about Esme’s secret, the group of friends take matters into their own hands but not without almost getting caught red-handed. 

Zoe: rubbed at her eyes tiredly as she drove up to Degrassi. The babies had hardly slept and since she'd forgotten to buy those stupid blankets for them before she left school on Thursday, which meant she'd hardly got any sleep either. She had agreed to meet Tori though, and even though it was 6:30, she climbed out of the car and forced a smile on her face as she grabbed the babies and headed up the school steps. Luckily for them Degrassi was actually open this early but no teachers showed up for at least another hour. Enough time to snoop, and tell Simpson if they found anything. Pushing the school door open with her hip, she bit her lip as she saw Tori sitting on a bench, "Hey.. I guess we should get this over with."

Miles: couldn't believe that Esme was in a relationship with a teacher of all people. It seemed like the group was starting to crumble. First Luke with his drinking then this. He wasn't sure what him, Tori, and Zoe could do, but he was game for anything at this point. When his alarm went off he hit his clock hard causing his baby to start crying yet again. The teen had only got a few hours sleep thanks to this assignment. After getting him to stop he drove to Degrassi and walked inside seeing his two friends. "This week is going to be the death of me. After this I can't take anymore surprises."

Tori: It seemed as if things within the Posse had taken a turn, again. But if there’s one thing they could be counted on for, it was making sure they got each other back on track after each and every slip up and apparent misfortune. The brunette didn’t have any trouble dragging herself out of bed--with everything going on she could hardly sleep anyway. Seeing both Zoe and Miles approach she gave them both a little wave before turning to head into the school. “You’re telling me.” she said in response to the boy as they made their way in. It was weird seeing the halls with no one in them. The brunette sighed look between the two, “So--guess we should try his classroom for something first..”

Zoe: Everything was going wrong but Zoe wasn't about to let the group crumble around her. She yawned again softly after approaching the group, and shrugged her shoulders in response. "Yeah, I guess that's what we do," she nodded her head as she began leading the way toward the math classroom. "I can't believe this shit, what the hell. Esme told me that he loves her, but I've seen him perv on other girls with his disgusting little smirks in the middle of class. I hope we find something because if we don't the investigation would be pointless."

Miles: After Zoe yawned he couldn't help but yawn himself. The way things have been going lately it felt more like a good and bad dream combined then real life. Miles nodded at Tori's response then started walking toward the room. "How are we going to get in exactly?" He asked thinking the door would probably be locked. "I don't know." Miles said shaking his head. He liked Esme at one point and can't seem to wrap his mind around the fact that she'd rather be with perv. "We'll get him someway, somehow."

Zoe: "Haven't you ever picked a lock?" Zoe questioned, luckily she'd used a bobbypin to pin back her bangs so when she tried the door she just pulled it from her hair and stuck it in the hole in the door before twisting it until it clicked. "See, easy as pie." she smirked back at her friends, before opening the classroom door and stepping inside. Wearing a baby and carrying the other made it a little harder but she finally pushed her way fully into the room. "I'll take the desk, someone should check the books and stuff, and someone should watch the door."

Tori: Tori looked over at Miles as Zoe went to work on the lock, giving a smirk before she sauntered behind the other brunette into the classroom, looking around for something to dig through. “I’m gonna check out this supply closet” she called out behind her, already making her way over to the large grey mass. As soon as she opened it all she saw were files packed at the bottom, and a few blazers hung toward. “He’s not all that organized is he?” she remarked snidely, beginning to sift through the papers.

Zoe: Zoe nodded her head at Tori's idea as she headed toward the desk. The drawers weren't locked and she sighed at the fact but opened them anyway even though she figured that nothing of value would be in there. "I swear if i got up this early and we don't find anything I'm gonna be pissed. Check the jacket pockets, Tor. " she bit her lip, sighing softly. Opening the top one she cringed at the half eaten sandwich with something growing on top stuffed in a drawer. "Ew! Oh my god, he's so gross. There's old food in here."

Miles: watched Zoe do her thing with the lock, hoping that one of their babies didn't start crying. "I don't normally do this stuff." Miles whispers as he looks around. Once she got in unlocked he stepped in the class already feeling uncomfortable as he thought about Esme and Gabe. "Guess I'll be watch," he said after hearing Tori would check the closet. So far there wasn't a soul around. He turned around after hearing Zoe. "Not surprised at all. Have you guys found anything yet?"

Tori: “Got it--” she said back to Zoe, having no good luck with the files underneath, she switched to the jacket pockets, frowning as she went through each one and found nothing but lint and a couple of pennies. “Nada” she said to her friends. She was beginning to think Mr. Bishop might’ve been too smart to leave anything incriminating in his classroom. “Well you know if we can find anything we could always plant something....like a note..” she trailed off.

Zoe: Zoe raised an eyebrow, her brows creasing as she shuffled through the stuff in the desk. The first drawer held nothing, not anything except some disgusting food. Opening up the second drawer she bent down, and began shuffling through some papers. She could make out that it had Esmes name on it, and as she squinted 11:30 pm became visible too. "Guys! I found something! A meeting time between them I think. Come look!" she could've screamed she was so excited, but as she shifted, she noticed the baby shifting against her in the wrap.

Mr. Bishop: decided to come into his classroom early today. After everything that had happened with Esme he could use some quiet time to himself before his students arrived to just sit and think. However when he neared his classroom he noticed that the light was shining out into the hallway. "What the hell" he remarked, walking closer to the door.

Zoe: Just as she heard a noise, Ayla started whining against her chest and Zoe looked around in a panic. "Shhh, you stupid baby." She muttered, glancing at her friends as she quietly shut the drawers of the desk, knowing there was nowhere to hide she shoved the paper in the pocket of her jeans and stood there. All Zoe could hope was the footsteps would pass.

Miles: kept looking around the empty hallways hoping they'd find something soon. He looked down at his watch noticing they were running out of time. He rocked back and forth till he heard Zoe finally say the words he has been waiting for. Miles walked over to her to check it when he heard the noise. "Put your hand over her face or something." Miles said as he rushed over to the door seeing the teacher coming. "Fuck.. we gotta hide. Quick to the closet." Miles cut the lights off before quickly making his way to join his friends, hoping they wouldn't get caught.

Zoe: Zoe bit her lip as she did as Miles said. There was no way they could get caught now because of a dumb doll, and as she moved the baby silenced itself as if she was just getting uncomfortable being in one spot. The closet barely had any space in it but, she climbed in anyways, biting her lip as she realized how tight the space actually was. With Mr. Bishop coming they had no choice but to be in there though, she just hoped that he didn't figure out that they were in there.

Tori: 's ears perked up when Zoe said she finally found something, rushing over immediately to see what evidence she'd come across. However, at the mention that someone was coming she felt herself glance around in panic, following Miles' suggestion for them to hide out in the closet. Quickly, they all crammed into the space as the footsteps drew closer. "Oh my God, I'm claustrophobic" she whispered at both of them.

Mr. Bishop: when he reached his classroom he saw that the light was indeed off, and figured maybe his mind had been playing tricks on him. A sleepless night had been known to do that. Still when he walked in he felt something was off, taking his bag and putting it down on his desk. The male decided that he'd better have a look around, looking around to see if anything on his desk seemed out of place. He glanced out of his classroom window, seeing the faculty parking lot was still mostly empty. Just when he glanced he'd seen that he'd left his lights on by mistake. "Shit" he muttered to himself, turning to look in his closet for a jacket before heading back into the frigid morning. But instead when he swung the door open he was faced with three of his unsuspecting students--including Tori who'd walked in on him having sex with Esme not even a full 48 hours before. Mr. Bishop jumped, startled. "What are you--what are you three doing in my classroom?"

Miles: had his back against wall trying to make a little more room. Luckily all of them are pretty small. Miles was practically holding his breath when he heard Mr. Bishop walked in the room. "We won't be here long," he whispered back to Tori. As the door opened Miles started thinking of reasons why they'd be in there. "..Simpson had us checking all the uh supplies, making sure all the teachers are good. The door closed on us and we couldn't get it open so.. thanks for that." Miles said with a small chuckle and his best fake smile hoping the teacher would buy it.

Zoe: 's eyes widened and she shifted uncomfortably as she felt the footsteps come closer. "Just helping out the facility and making things easier," her stomach churned as she looked up at Mr. Bishop. "You're all good though! Thanks for letting us out, Mr. B!" She grinned brightly, before pushing her way out of the closet purposely brushing against the man, smirking up at him she bit her lip. "Wow, I'm so sorry. You've been working out obviously." The brunette mostly needed to see his reaction for more proof. "But uh, we'll be going now. Sorry to bother you."

Tori: just smiled and followed suit behind them both, not wanting to create any waves. She could barely look the male in the face as she maneuvered past him, only being able to envision him naked and on top of her best friend.

Mr. Bishop: looked between the three, suspecting that something was up but there was nothing he could really do or say to negate their statements so he simply stood to the side and let them out. “Oh, uh, okay?” he asked confusedly as the three teens hurried on their way.

Zoe: let the breath out that she's sort of been holding, she couldn't believe they'd almost got caught but was glad they were heading from the room. "I got the paper," she dug it from her jean pocket, grinning in triumph. "There's no reason he'd meet up with her at 11:30. Not unless it was for some sketchy reason.. should we go to Simpson /now/?" She questioned the other two, sitting back on the bench where they had met.

Tori: Tori glanced over at the paper as Zoe withdrew it from her pocket. She'd hoped it be enough to at least spark some kind of investigation. She sighed, not sure if she even really wanted to go through with these. She knew it was for Esme's own good but the immediate repercussions seemed grave. "No time like the present, I guess.." she replied, turning to head for the principal's office.