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darlingofvalyria · 1 year ago

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❝You don't think I can please you?❞

part 05 | we're really in it now, darling

chapter summary:

[ Everything comes ahead at a hedge maze because. . . hedge maze. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,517 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader, aemond x alys rivers

contains— angst, a lil smutty but no full whorishness, ya'll good - i should really put idiots in love as a tag shouldn't i - nsfw: grinding + some sexy, sexy second base lmao - no kingslayers, no rogues, no betas.

a/n— i hope ya'll forgive me. comment, reblog & like at will, mi luvs, mwa!

You don't really know what you were expecting come Sunday. Once you started to 'ehh' 'hmmm' and 'maybe's your way through random moments with Helaena after the radio silence from Aemond— your best friend put her foot down.

"Fuck him," Helaena grumbled. "You've been going to Sunday dinners before he was even born, you are not backing down now."

You snorted. "That's wildly inaccurate."

"Point still stands. Fuck. Him. You deserve my mother's tiramisu cake. He doesn't get to take that from you." Her eyes widen as if trying to instil her determination into your system via eye contact. "You are not going to let him take that from you."

You nodded. That's at least a point to pro you can stand by. Though she can't cook to save her life— Alicent's words, not yours — the woman sure can bake. It became therapeutic for her, she once said. How measuring ingredients and kneading dough to patiently folding cream after another kept her mind quiet and her hands busy.

"My faith strongly does not advise rage shooting, you know?" Alicent once hummed.

"Did you mean 'range' shooting?"

"Oh?" she nodded absentmindedly, smiling. "Yes, that too."

"That's true," you mused. Tiramisu cake was her mother's specialty. Every Sunday, she has all attendees pack up at least one cake per person and you and Hel usually stave off bites throughout the week until the next Sunday comes. "I deserve some tiramisu cake, gods be damned it."

"Plus, if you come with me, we'll get two cakes to take home instead of one." She wagged her finger. "We count as two separate entities with one fridge, it's our greatest privilege."

"Daeron calls it preferential treatment."

"I am her only daughter, of course I get preferential treatment."

"As you should, bestie."

Even when you've stopped struggling with choosing if you were going or not, your mind is never faraway from thinking about Aemond. You wonder if he's finally gotten back with Alys was a bad train of thought, while an even worse train of thought is how soft his lips were and how he holds your hair to pull you close when his tongue glides across your bottom lip.

You blink, shaken from the thought. Bad. Bad brain. Stop it.

And repeat. At this point, it was safer to think about Alys and Aemond.

According to previous cycles, by this point they'd be at the height of their newly blossomed relationship— all sweet kisses and heated looks, unable to stop touching each other much less act a little bit better when they're trying to leave a group function to fuck their brains out — so you wouldn't be surprised to see come Sunday that he arrives with Alys— both of them tall, gorgeous with just enough undertone of smirky, smarmy tension that would make you want to stab your own eye out — pointedly ignoring you or whatever happened between you and him.

It hurt to think about sure, but what else did you think was going to happen?

That call made a space the size of a puddle that turned into a lake, welled deep with unresolved feelings and untouched topics. More questions than answers, drawing lines both of you were too scared to tug and see.

It's big enough to notice, and both stubborn enough not to anything about it.

You tried. Well, you almost did. In the weird hours of the day when your brain and body are more physically disjointed so rationality gives way to adrenaline. Most of the time, this is during working hours. You, checking your phone, running around his profile with your thumb a few times, biting your lip as your mind blanks and your body fights to call him. Or leave a message.

Before your mind and body reconnects and you fling your phone as far away from you as possible.

It's weird. You've never fought with Aemond before. If this was considered fighting. You've been disappointed in him, gotten angry and annoyed with him, but someone always, always offers an olive branch.

Every time you think about that call, you close up, your annoyance flares, and you shove your phone away.

In your amicable defense, this was primarily his problem. You weren't truly dating. He made it clear every choice he was making was en toward the agreed conditions were of making his ex jealous enough to take him back, yada yada yada.

Even if, possibly, you wanted more, he made no actual steps to make it known that he was considering it too.

Funny stares on your lips don't count. The only sabbatical from sexual adventures Aemond got were the breakup round with Alys, and as established before, they got it on pretty frequently.

Another thought bubble about Aemond's lips pops in your head, the mint from his toothpaste and the coffee from his black with no sugar, no milk, the way he seemed to suckle on your sighs—

Gods. Damn. It.

Focus.

That last call?

You're a grown ass woman. You're allowed to do whatever you want with whomever you want, and you're not going to make Aemond Targaryen's steely silence of what— disappointment? Of your choices? Of your choice in Cregan Stark and Cregan Stark Jr? Of what you were doing? Sure he was faithful to the Seven, a good old religious boy raised by his momma, but it doesn't make him a saint. Just because he's clinging to the vestiges of first love thinking it could very well be his last doesn't make him holy, or warrant enough to judge you for getting your little you some good dick.

Life is hard. Good dick is hard to come by!

So. Yeah. Days leading up to Sunday was radio silence and way too many thoughts circling your head like vultures, eating away at logic and rationality, and stubbornly still, you refused to make contact. If it's not out of pride, it's out of hurt.

Because he could apologise, but Aemond wasn't known for his apologies.

But then you remembered the flowers, the tulips, and now you just felt sad. Moping, getting annoyed, and trying to get through work without breaking your phone speeds the week in a blur.

Come Sunday afternoon, Helaena was coming to pick you up from her shift at the vet— the beauty of having a vet bff is the Russian roulette of pictures; you never know if you're about to get cuddly new patients with big, sad eyes and pouty snouts or her newest c-section win without any attempts of a blur — so you could get to her mother's house together, you decided to go for the nines with your outfit.

A sweet summer dress later, some gold gladiator sandals half off from your favourite but largely can't afford shoe boutique that you swear you were always going to wear to make up for the insane price (thank the gods Alicent didn't have a no shoe policy because it takes fifteen minutes to get them on and you cannot be on the floor, on her house, with Aemond around, rolling around like a hot potato on the entry way trying to get a fucking shoe on), dusted and prepped in you're fancier version of makeup, and was just finishing off your hair— using the good mousse whilst blaring Disney epics — when knocking came.

You freeze.

On one hand, it could just be Helaena, forgetting her keys again somewhere as she had done so numerous times before, but there hadn't been a slew of expletives or her impression of a cool, clinical voice saying, ''Tis I, the Stranger, have come for thee soul! Open up I gotta pee, woman!' so you got a pretty good guess on the alternative, sending your heart into a stutter and get smacked with a well deep of yearning.

You miss Aemond. You miss hanging out with him, even just having him on video call whilst you prepped a late dinner and he's working out his thesis defense, too late for either of you, but catching another's eye in the tiny phone and sharing a comforted grin. You miss being called my lady in a language that means so much to him, miss bumping shoulders and smelling his crisp scent of cologne and laundry.

Miss his lips, his very soft, very delicious lips—

"Gods damnit, woman, keep it together," you murmur to yourself. Another series of knocks, ever patient, and you're moved by body not mind as breathless giddiness yanks the door open—

Only to fall flat.

"Oh." You can't hide your disappointment at the curly blond with the smirk for centuries. "Aegon. I didn't know it was you."

"Yes, the expressive disappointment in your eyes could bring a man on the edge to his downfall, I must say," he jokes hoarsely, a little hurt. "Not even a hi Aeg. I've missed you Aeg, or— hey Aeg! You look good enough to eat!"

It's Aegon. Not Aemond. Or Helaena. Helaena and Aemond's older brother, Aegon. Party rocking, cocaine hiding, sweat and someone's lipstick smelling Aegon. You like him despite his whorishness because he's funny, because he's sweet when he wants to be, and he always, always gets you a funny mug when he comes back from wherever he came from.

You blink a couple of times, laughing awkwardly as you give him a quick hug. He still smells the same, with the lightest tint of sun in him from his days at the beach not so long ago no doubt.

"Sorry, sorry. Hi Aeg, I've missed you Aeg, and yes, you do look good enough to eat, Aeg."

He hugs back tighter, smothering you in the denim jacket he's wearing and the curly edge of his white blond hair. He's got a new piercing and smells of new perfume.

"So do you, princess," he says as you step back and he appraises you appreciatively. "Those shoes can step on me any time."

"I will never."

"You will never," he says chirpily, moving back with a teasing grin. "Let me guess, you were waiting for my uglier version to come by and got too overwhelmed by the majesticness of me."

'"Majesticness isn't even a word." You snort. "And Aemond is not your uglier version, you don't look that alike."

He raises an eyebrow as you blink. Fuck. "Dear me oh my, I meant Helaena, babe. When did Aemond get into the mix?"

You shove his shoulder, huffing as you pick up your keys and bag, forcing him to step back as you lock the apartment, trying to give yourself grace from his burning, teasing stare. "As if Helaena didn't tell you." You finally turn to him, lips pursed at his faux innocent pout. "Helaena tells you everything."

"She might have mentioned a thing or two about a thing or two." He bumps your hip as you both get into the elevator. "Imagine my surprise when Lae-lae tells me of a wondrous development between her two favourite people that involved a breakup, some gift-giving shenanigans, and kissing." He gasps dramatically as you groaned. "I leave for what— a month or two and suddenly you and Aemond are making out? Babe, I must say, you're doing the tongue tango with the wrong brother."

"He's not the wrong brother, also the tongue tango? Really?" you snap suddenly. The wrong brother comments always irk you because you understand that it's a sensitive issue to Aemond, as well as Aegon himself.

But it's a bait you realise too late because Aegon Targaryen enjoys hauling truths from people in steps and tricks, uncaring if he takes a stab or two to get there as you meet his gaze against the reflective wall, positively smirking.

"Really now?"

"Why are you even picking me up? I thought you were in Oldtown."

"Already sorted. Hel wanted to make sure you get there in time, she's going to be late... After all your earlier ride backed out didn't he?"

Your mouth pursed, annoyance prickling at your edges as the elevator pulled into the lobby. "I don't want to talk about it, where's your car?"

He whistles, languid and all the time in the world on his shoulders with just the hint of smug. "It's a thirty minute ride, babe, you're going to spill."

You shoot him a withering glare. "Not if I have say in it." For emphasis, you yank his door and slam it. Fuck his new Maserati.

"Mature!"

Thirty minutes is more than ample time for Aegon Targaryen to weed his way into your brain like the worst case of earworm (like a stupid ass commercial jingle that just. Won't. Stop) that by the time you reach his mother's, you were ranting.

"—like I get it, saying I'm going out with another guy to get some good dick after confirming that we're going to your mother's for Sunday as a date is bad, but we're not really dating! He said so himself! He pressed the issue of it not being a real thing! And he didn't attempt any—"

"— any communication at all," Aegon echoes, stretching his legs as he stood. "Not a sorry or anything."

"Anything!" you bolster, slamming his door again that is less about him and more about the aggressiveness. "I know that he's bad at apologising, or facing things that are hard, choosing to stew in it and act all shitty to people, I just... I thought he'd at least tell me. Doesn't that warrant our friendship?"

"Hm. Ever think that's precisely why he struggles with you?"

"What does that even mean?"

"That he cares about you, so he struggles more with expressing himself."

You turn to him, cocking your head. "When did you get so wise, oh Gandalf?"

"A Seven focused rehab facility can do that to you," he muses wistfully. "There was this nun that says verses when she orgasms."

You make a face. "Love the fun fact."

"You're welcome. But back to point, isn't the issue also the fact that you never tried to make contact with him either?"

"Well. Yeah. Because..."

Aegon squints at you sympathetically. "Because you're scared of rocking the boat because of how much you like him?"

"Not, well," you hesitate. "Not like that precisely..."

"How much you're capable of liking him?" Aegon smiles wryly. "You had a crush on him, I remembered that at least. When Hel first introduced you to him, you couldn't stop teasing him until he lit up like a Christmas tree. I knew you liked him since then. You called him pretty half the time, and I started to realise it was less about his reaction but how you actually see him, and speaking as the naturally cherub, pretty boy of the family, I find this highly, highly offensive."

You pinch his cheeks, wounding your arm over his shoulder. Aegon was built like a linebacker with less muscles that aren't postern, with wide shoulders and a strong body that's too easy to lean against.

"You're pretty too, Aeg," you coo. "But he's just..."

"If you say ethereal, I will vomit right in my mother's petunias." He makes a face. "How about this. The problem is that you think Aemond doesn't like you back."

You frown at him. "I know Aemond doesn't like me back."

"Oh, sweetie," Aegon coos, sympathy and pity swirling in his smug, smug smile. "I'm so glad you're pretty."

You pinch his sides until he squirms. "Fuck you, what the hell?"

"What I'm saying is, let's test that, you know? Because that's the only variable you aren't sure with?"

You sigh. "Aeg, even if he does, I'm not going to pounce—"

The door swings open, and there he is, of pretty boy face and good boy posture because his mother raised herself a good, devout boy who doesn't know what a slouch is because he's not an ape— and is he wearing his leather jacket? Of course he's wearing the leather jacket and you know that smell, that spiced cologne with the leather and his natural scent and fuck, Aemond is looking at you, looking at his brother, and the open expression, the shock, that smidge of relief— shutters to an icy politeness.

Aegon because he's Aegon, pulls you closer, his mouth curling into a grin that only says trouble, forcing Aemond to straighten up his already perfect posture in preparation for whatever his brother has in mind and his stare is white-hot on the conjoined appendages between you and his brother— and Aegon lands a wet, smacking kiss on your cheekbone.

"Had to pick up your girl, baby bro, I mean what kind of—" his blue gaze finds his mother descending the stairs, peering out to see on who it was, and you're frozen, waiting for the bomb to drop and simultaneously unprepared for it, "— boyfriend has his brother pick up his girl? Good thing you got a good excuse, huh? Oh, hey mother dearest! Your favourite son has come back!"

As Aegon leaves your side with a cheeky little wink, you bit your lip at the frosty look on his face that makes you feel like an absolute idiot and fills you with rage all in one go. Because Aemond has never looked at you like that, like you were at fault and acting like a child, but that you also want to jut a finger against his chest.

"Did you have a nice talk with him on the drive over?" he says, jaw hard.

"I didn't tell him," you hiss, taking the hem of his leather jacket instead of his hands enough so you can pretend to kiss his cheeks because his mother is right there, eyes wide at that two of you as Aegon gave you a discreet thumbs up.

"Helaena did. Get over yourself, your mother's—"

"Aemond?"

As he freezes and Alicent calls your name, you plaster the best smile you can make as you twine your fingertips with his.

"Smile."

"Hm."

When you leave his side to greet Alicent, you make sure to stomp on his stupid shoes.

As soon as you've finished your mandatory greetings— even with Otto Hightower, Aemond's grandfather, who merely raised his eyebrows at the apparent new status of you and his grandson, Alicent having to blink multiple times, wrangling positives as she kept shooting her son looks while he stood like a block of ice behind you — Aemond takes your hand by his own volition, tangles your fingers too tight, and starts tugging you along like a bouy.

"Are you a child?" you hiss, trying to pry your hand as insistently without outright yanking, Alicent already sending you both concerned looks at a news that she called 'oh, that is wonderful!'

"I am younger than you," he murmurs back, holding you tight.

"Oh, fuck you."

With a defeated huff, you take longer, heavier strides and stomps so you're the one dragging him.

It's all illusion of control built on pettiness because you're still being navigated, it's more just pride at this point, but you don't care, and when he scoffs right back, you felt at least a pinch of a win.

And then he, of course, matches your strides so fucking easily.

"Freaking horse-legged motherfucker," you mumble. You don't know if he catches it, or you're imaging the soft, surprised noise that's both a snort and a laugh.

He winds you around the hallway, an unbreakable trajectory to the backyard, dragging you past an easy eye view from the dramatic, floor to ceiling windows and trespassing straight into the hedge maze because of course they had one of those.

"Really? Here?"

"Do you want to be ogled up by my mother?" he says in a nauseatingly chipper voice. "Is that what you and Aegon are planning with all this, hm?"

You twist out of his grip, walking deeper on your own until your eyes are swallowed by the darkness. When you turn to him, your eyes adjust, only seeing the silver of his hair, so different from his black leather jacket and dark green jumper. You don't see his expression or his sharp gaze.

"Planned this? Seriously? Nothing since coming here had been planned, Aemond," your voice has bite and if your eyes had adjusted faster, or if you could see better, you would see the flinch he makes, "if it had been, this certainly would be the last of my fucking choices. Or do I have to remind you of the fact that we were supposed to go together? Oh right, things change when you drop a call out of fucking nowhere!"

"I—fuck." He moves around, a hand through his hair as exhales in frustration. "I didn't... think you'd want to go with me. That Sunday plans had been cancelled."

"And you didn't think to message? I mean it's not like we're friends in literally every social media." You try not to sound hurt before taking a deep breath, offering your palms up. "I didn't—don't even know what the issue is, Aemond. Were you so offended that I was sexually active that you just had to rudely drop the call and not talk—"

It's maybe the darkness, or intuition but you can bet half yours savings that Aemond Targaryen is blushing.

"It... gods, no it's not... I wasn't offended that you were sexually active," he says softly, evenly. He clears his throat. "I don't... mind that you're... sexually active. I actively... support it. Even." He coughs. Swallows. Curses.

If you don't feel like your heart is pounding in your throat you would have laughed. You had never seen the boy this flustered before that it's affecting his words, because Aemond has always been the most well spoken person you know.

"Is it about Cregan? Do you have something against Cregan?"

His eye flutter close. "No... and yes."

"I don't understand, Aemy," you whisper, defeated.

He sighs. In the dark, you notice a movement. His hands flex. It's a habit he's had since you've known him. It's instinct. The way you reach out, finding a piece of his leather jacket until you find your way to his hands, running your fingers over the bones and ridges, his sinew and skin. There are callouses from his fencing, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He's frozen first before he sighs, melting through the warmth you share with him.

"I have nothing against Stark," he finally says. "It's the fact that you were still having sex with him that I found unfair." He steps closer until you can see his face better, the struggle in him can be told through the furrow in his brows and the press of his pillowy lips, red and wet as if he had bitten through it. "I... understand that we're not really together, but I couldn't... not feel as if it wasn't right. As if I wanted it to be me."

His hands finds your arms, eye closing and gently placing his forehead against your own. At first you panic, your body trying to make your brain decide do you like this or not but it's Aemond, and he's warm, gentle, sweet almost. It's familiar and new at the same time. It's warmth you recognise, skin you will know anywhere, but in a way that you've never felt him before.

You close your eyes and breathe with him.

You know that this is rare. That this Aemond is reserved for people he loves and cares about, but with his forehead against yours, with his hands holding you steady, rubbing a comforting thumb over your skin that felt just as for him as it was for you, breathing you in and exhaling you out. A single breath between two bodies.

"I don't know if I can agree to that, Aemy."

"What?" He pulls back, hurt pulling taunt your favourite pair of lips. "Do you like Cregan more? You don't think I can please you?"

"That's not—"

His hands closes on your face, cupping it in his palms as you stare, wide-eyed at the blue fire lit up in his eye. His breath brushes your lips, making them tingle.

"Push me away if you don't want it," he says before his eye closes and he takes your mouth against his own, swallowing your gasp then pulling you away again, eye glinting.

"Push me away, ñuha riña." His voice is so soft, words crisp while your body thrummed in a single, frantic heartbeat. When you don't move, too shock, thoughts tangled, he smirks.

With his teeth, he captures your bottom lip, grazing it. When he feels you shudder, eyes fluttering, he chuckles meanly.

"Push me away as if you don't want me." He tilts your chin up as he looks down on you, eye confident in its lust. His thumb brushes your bottom lip. "As if you don't feel everything I do."

"Fuck you," you manage to exhale as you grab the back of his head and devour him just as you did at the restaurant. He groans, using his other hand to feel your side, pass your one breast, giving it a firm squeeze that makes you gasp, tongue clashing, legs tangling as you push and push and he pulls you to him, his back hitting the prickly hedge. It's teeth and tongue, breaths twisted in one air as you used each other like lifelines, like enemies in a swords match.

It's feverish and passion, infuriating want that gives. Because when you dominate the kiss, tangling his tongue with your own, yanking him down and down as if you want him to reach every part of you inside, he bends and follows. And when he pulls you, tangles your hair and takes every gasp and breath, you surrender.

He groans when you suck on his bottom lip, pulling away just enough to spit out, "You taste so much better than my dreams." His mouth moves down and down, leaving a path of heat as he suckles at your neck, practically ripping the buttons of the top of your dress as he slides down and grunts in pain.

"A-Aemy?" Your eyes flutter. "Your back, shit—"

"Fuck that." He tugs you down until you land with an oomph! on his lap, your chest at his eye level before he drags them back to your gaze. "Tell me to stop."

You shake your head, tangling your fingers in his hair. "No."

"Good."

Your back arches, supported in his hold, as he starts sucking the skin lower and lower, another hand massaging your tit that pools hot down your core until his hand, warm and solid, sinew and bone, and Aemond Aemond Aemond, slides between your bra and cups your breast and his hand is so big, and it feels so good that you start grinding on the hard length you feel right at your—

An ear-splitting shriek freezes the both of you. You and Aemond pull back, hand still on your tit.

"Wha—"

"Ew, ew, ew! Mom said you were fighting! FIGHTING DOES NOT EQUATE FUCKING IN THE MAZE, YOU FUCKING CLICHES!"

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantastyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin @backyardfolklore @random-ocity @hc-geralt-23 @vendettasblog @cicaspair418 @malynn @anehkael @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #ewan mitchell #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond angst #aemond x reader #hotd angst #aemond x you #hotd fanfiction #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

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mowiwow · 10 months ago

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irrational (modern clarence)

It's irrational.

Completely and utterly irrational of him. Nonsensical, really.

He doesn't even like sweets; sugar makes him sleepy, after all. Even on Valentine's Day, Clarence has work that needs to be done. Arguably, he has even more work because it's Valentine's Day. Setting up a secret gifting system, organizing Valentine's Day related activities, dealing with lovestruck students meandering about on campus and throughout the halls...

Yes, Valentine's Day is a lot of work. Every holiday usually is. No rest for the wicked, as they say.

It starts as a simple observation. William had barged into the room bragging about how many chocolates he had received (most of which seemed to be obligation chocolates).

And amongst his collection was a small bag tagged with a familiar name.

Your name.

It haunts him throughout the day. It's silly, but every time the doors to the student council room opens, he waits for your voice to call out his name.

He's disappointed every time.

First, it had been William with his chocolates (your chocolates). Making a large fuss, as usual. Slacking off, as usual.

Clarence forcibly puts William to work.

(It's William's fault, Clarence thinks, that Clarence's mind ends up being occupied by the image of your little chocolate bag in William's hands.)

Then, it was two of the other student council members barging in with a panicked expression on their face. A miscommunication regarding the secret Valentine's Day letters, one says; various letters were lost or misplaced.

Turns out that they had just left it in a forgotten drawer somewhere in the student council room.

(He overhears one student council member mention you and how good your chocolates were as they leave the room with a box full of letters.)

And then the former student council president visited him with a lackadaisical gait and some teasing words for Clarence. And a gaggle of enamoured students drawn in by O'Connor's beauty.

He promptly shooed all of them out.

(O'Connor's teasing words about the lack of chocolates that Clarence has received has him unusually ruffled; Clarence shouldn't be one to care about those things. But, also, he does receive chocolates, he just makes sure they're out of the way of things.)

By the end of the day, he's exhausted. Clarence doesn't have any particularly strong opinions about Valentine's Day, but if this is what he'll have to face in the years to come—

He might just end up hating Valentine's Day.

And there's no chocolates on his desk from...

The door opens again.

The student council president's eye twitches as he looks up, ready to deal with whatever life has thrown his way—

"Clarence!"

It's you.

"Do you need something?" Clarence asks, pretending that he's not scanning your person to see if you're carrying anything. You are not.

"Just a little bit of the student council president's time," you reply with a cheeky smile, bounding right on over to his desk like you own the place.

"...For what?" he asks, somewhat warily.

"For this!"

You reach into the bag hanging from your arm and produce a small box the shape of a... ring... box...

Clarence's mouth almost drops open.

"I got you some mints! It's not the traditional chocolates people give on Valentine's Day but I figured you'd like mints more."

"Oh..."

What... was he thinking? Logically speaking, there was no way that the box was actually going to be—

He clears his throat and solemnly accepts the small box from you. For no particular reason, he shakes it a little. As expected, he hears small items rattling around. "Thank you."

"Then, I'll be on my way!" you say cheerfully, already turning to leave with a wave.

"Wait—"

You look back at him, confusion clear on your face. Clarence clears his throat, putting the box of mints down on his desk.

"I'm almost finished here," he says quietly. "It's getting dark out and there's data suggesting that crime rate increases when it's dark and it's always safer to be in pairs than to be alone, so—"

You laugh fondly, turning back to him with an amused grin. "Sure, Clarence. You can walk me home."

He feels a little embarrassed. To hide this, he adjusts his glasses and nods stiffly. "I'll be with you in a second."

And as he turns around to start tidying up his desk, he glimpses the small box of mints he'd put down. And, oddly enough, a pleasant warmth spreads through his chest.

Maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all.

#lovebrush chronicles #lovebrush clarence #clarence clayden #clarence x reader #lovebrush chronicles x reader

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ir-abelas-vhenan · 2 days ago

Note

Stop flooding the Leliana tag with mediocre white men

You're already evey fucking where, so do you really have to pollute queer characters as well

Oh, tumblr. It took a little less than a week for someone to remind me why I left the first time (don't worry, anon, give me another month and I'm sure I'll disappear again and the internet will once again be only what you want it to be.)

I would have asked this anon, but since they felt safer being cruel behind the veil (ha?) of anonymity I suppose I'd like to check in with people who have been here longer.

I was a teenager the first time I was on here, so correct me if I'm wrong, but tags are meant to be used to describe the contents of a post, yeah?

If so, since my return to tumblr I have made one (1) post with a tag that would be relevant to anon's frustration here (the name Leliana), and I did so because...I discussed what it might be like if she were fighting her demons (in the form of Marjolaine) for longer than she has by the time we meet her in the first game. Idk. The tag felt appropriate to me, but I'm willing to make anything a learning experience, even if it came about less than kindly.

Secondly, I won't deny that I've made a significant amount of posts in the almost-week that I've been back, but I struggle to pin down exactly what was meant by "you're already every fucking where", so just in case.

1. If you're referring to white men being every fucking where then yeah, I'm just as devastated as you are that I'm this interested in one, anon. But unfortunately the best way to work through that for me is to post my silly little thoughts, find community, and then, in due time, fade back into nothingness.

2. If however, this anon meant that I'M every fucking where...I've made quite a few posts since I came back, yeah. I've been using the tag system as I currently understand it (using them to suggest the content contained within each post). To anyone else in a similar boat, who feels I may have ruined a place where they found comfort and safety...I hate that I have disrupted a space you enjoy.

Solas is the main focal point of my interest with the games right now, undeniably, but I include other characters in those conversations because they mean the world to me, too, and I think they belong in the ideas I've shared.

And trust me, I really truly do understand anon's (your, should you read this) frustration. It isn't fun when something you hate is getting a ton of love and making it harder to find the content you'd prefer.

That, however, inspires a second question about how tumblr operates in the years since I left: the block button still exists too, yeah?

I am sorry for your frustration, and I empathize with it. But I will not take the initiative to smother myself when it is in each individual's control who they do and do not seek content from on the "I am here to talk about a thing I am passionate about" website. I love these games (well. I love three of them). I love the depth of these characters. I hope I did not destroy the love YOU hold for your favorites. But I am here, anon, even if it's just until I feel I've finished dumping my immediate thoughts. I encourage you to either speak with me further about how you think I might be better if I've genuinely done something wrong, or remove me from your digital world. You have the power here. Use it wisely.

#dragon age ask #I don't think there were any spoilers in here #so I will try to keep my tags limited here #because honestly this doesn't need to become a Thing #but in case anyone has received something similar #I thought it might be a comfort to know you are not alone #solas #dragon age solas #dragon age

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training4theapocalypse · 1 year ago

Text

Pushover Ch. 2 (Jeffrey Steinberg x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Degradation, Dub-con, Dom!Jeffrey, Sub!Reader, Oral sex F receiving, Overstimulation, Jeffrey getting slapped in the face

Summary: Jeffrey's reign of Evergreen begins and you're not sure where things stand between you.

A/N: Just like @stealsteels, I had to get this out before Jeffrey inevitably becomes irredeemably evil on Thursday. This has a lot of non-con elements so proceed with caution (there's some emotionally stunted aftercare though). This takes place immediately following Ep7 of Hidden Signal: Evergreen.

Masterlist

Join my tag list: @pretendfan, @countlambula, @chiaraanatra, @stainedpomegranatelips, @navs-bhat, @daisydark, @ohnoitsrosie

Chapter 2: Nice Guy

You thumb the page of your book anxiously, reading and re-reading the same paragraph, trying to take it in. The clock on the control panel at your door reads that it’s nearly midnight. Jeffrey, Hannah and Axel should be back from their search for the servers by now.

Jeffrey had ordered you to wait in your quarters, to protect yourself from the storm raging in the ecosphere while they went on the mission to the depths below Evergreen. He shot down your protests that you wanted to look after the control room, insisting that it would be safer for you to be as far away from Cortex as possible in case anything went wrong on their search.

You look up when the door to your room beeps, locking electronically. Fuck. Did it go wrong after all? Is this Cortex confining you?

“Hello?” says Dagney’s voice over the intercom on the control panel.

“Why is my door locked?” asks Axel.

“Can anyone hear me?” asks McKenna as the collection of voices stampede over one another on the electronic system.

You walk over to the panel to get a closer listen.

“I’m gonna mute all of you.”

Jeffrey. Thank God. He did it. He fixed Cortex.

Your knuckles turn white as you listen intently. Jeffrey reveals that Finn had been tracking the asteroid that hit Earth for ten whole years and didn’t do a damn thing to stop it. As if you couldn’t hate Finn anymore.

“It’s sweet really, the attempt at democracy. ‘We’re equally important, equally valuable’ - of course, I’m using Finn’s words here.”

He sounds as pissed off with Finn as you feel. He’s right, you think.

“But what’s funny to me is if I didn’t fix Cortex, you’d all be dead. From now on, Cortex will provide all basic functions but direct orders will come only from me.”

Oh, this is interesting.

“I’m enforcing a nightly curfew, hence the locked doors. Each of you will do the jobs that you were chosen for but you will no longer do as you please. You will report directly to me every eight hours so I can assess your progress.”

You feel your chest rising and falling. But with what? Nerves? Or is it excitement? Jeffrey is in full control now. What does that mean for Evergreen? What does it mean for you?

“And finally, as far as Finn waking up? Don’t worry - I’ll take great care of him.”

Good. You hope Finn rots in hell.

Your door beeps again, unlocking itself, and your control panel lights up again. This time you can see on the display that Jeffrey is speaking only to you.

“Be a good girl and wait in Finn’s quarters for me. I’ll be there shortly.”

His name disappears when he disconnects, not bothering to wait for your response. You slip your heels on and make your way to Finn’s room where you find the door is already unlocked for you.

Your hatred towards Finn surges tenfold when the door slides open.

His room is opulent - at least double the size of yours - and it’s decorated just like the speakeasy upstairs. There’s a fully stocked drinks cabinet, and a luxurious kitchen complete with a refrigerator just for wine. And sticking out like a sore thumb is the large circular king bed with gold and black satin sheets. You rub your neck, from where it aches because of the measly single you’ve been sleeping in.

You open the wine fridge to find a chilled bottle of vintage Dom Perignon. What was Finn saving this for? You wonder. You shrug and - mostly out of spite - open it, toss the cork aside carelessly and pour it into two champagne glasses.

The door slides open and you smile, welcoming Jeffrey as he enters, removing his jacket and throwing it on the leather sofa. He looks flushed. Exhilarated.

“God, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says when you walk towards him with the glasses of champagne in hand.

“I thought you might want to celebrate,” you hand him one and raise your own glass. “The new era of Evergreen.”

He tilts his head in acknowledgement and drains his glass. He licks his lips, examining the empty champagne flute. “This is good. Really good.” His eyes find the bottle on the kitchen island behind you. “Did you know that that’s a twenty thousand-dollar bottle of champagne?”

“Isn’t money kind of meaningless now?”

“Yes… but that’s almost definitely the only bottle of that left in existence.”

“Oh.” You’re unsure of what the pained expression on his face means. “Are you mad at me for opening it?”

He pauses and then shakes his head. “No, God no.” He walks past you to refill his glass. “I didn’t even know it existed until a few seconds ago. Besides, you’re right - we should be celebrating.”

You perch on the chrome and leather bar stool next to him as he leans lazily against the island. “Shouldn’t I go back to bed? It’s past curfew after all.” You smirk.

“You know that message doesn’t apply to you. Well, mostly. I do have a job that I’ve assigned to you, though.”

“Have you decided to make me your assistant after all?”

“No. Hannah’s going to be my assistant.”

Your eyebrows knit together. Hannah? He wants Hannah as his assistant over you? What the fuck are you supposed to do here then?

“If you’re willing, I want you to be my right-hand woman. Second in command. My lieutenant.”

Oh. His green eyes look at you sincerely. So sincerely it makes you blush. You blink a few times. “You want me to help you run things?”

“Surely you’re not surprised? I need someone who can code in case anything goes wrong with Cortex again. And I need to win hearts and minds - they like you a hell of a lot more than they like me.”

You are surprised - to say the least. Not because you don’t think you’re competent or clever enough. But because you’ve spent years working for Finn with no recognition. Not even promoting you to equal standing with Hannah. And now, after a few days aligned with Jeffrey, he wants to give you the responsibility - the power - you know you deserve.

You put down your glass and kiss him, pulling him close by his shirt, opening your legs and feeling his warm body between your thighs. He cups your face, holding your jaw open so his tongue can delve into your mouth. He tastes sugary sweet like champagne. Really, really expensive champagne.

“Is that a yes, then?” He asks when your lips break apart. Your heart flutters in your chest with the thrill of the burning hot idea forming in your mind. His hips are still pushed into yours and you can feel his hard cock pressing against your lacy underwear under your dress. Of course, you want what he’s offering. But there’s something else you want even more right now.

You look up at him with wide eyes and twirl the end of your hair between your fingers. “I dunno, it sounds kind of hard.”

“What do you mean ‘hard’? You’re the most capable -”

You cut him off. “I mean, I had a different job in mind.”

“Oh really? What kind of job?” He murmurs, a coy grin appearing on his face when he picks up on your tone.

You swallow thickly when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I just want to be a hole for you to fuck.”

There’s silence.

You feel his cock twitch against your wet underwear. He inhales and exhales deeply. “Fuck.”

“Mmm,” you sigh. “I was hoping when you told me to wait in your room like a good girl, that’s what you wanted my job to be. That you’d want me in here before curfew, warming your bed with my legs spread.” You look past his shoulder at the bed behind him. “So we can make a mess of the bed Finn never got to use.”

“You know, now that you mention it -” He tilts your chin up, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. “I think you are better suited to just being a hole for me.”

“Two holes.” You open your mouth and tilt your head down, letting his thumb slip inside. He presses down on your soft tongue and drags his thumb down your chin, trailing wet saliva across your jaw when he squeezes your face roughly.

“Such a little tease.”

Jeffrey takes the Dom Perignon with his other hand and swallows a large swig of champagne directly from the bottle. He holds it to your lips, tilting it up so you can drink. Too much pours out too quickly, and dribbles down your chin and onto your dress.

“Look at you, making a mess,” he tuts, letting go of your face and lowering the bottle between your bodies.

“I can clean it up.”

You lean forward and run your tongue up the neck of the bottle, tasting the spilt champagne. You pause when you reach the top and look up at him with your tongue resting on the rim.

“Don’t half-arse it. If you’re going to act like a slut, do it properly.”

You close your lips around the opening of the bottle and lower your head, deep-throating the neck until the opening reaches the back of your throat, maintaining eye contact with him.

“Better,” he says watching you fellate the bottle.

He pushes the bottle deeper, and you grip the edge of the kitchen surface. The corners of his mouth turn up in a dark smirk when you choke a little. God, those dimples are distracting. You blink back tears and gasp for air when he removes it from your mouth.

“Not again with the Bambi eyes. They might fool everyone out there but I know you’re not all that innocent.”

Jeffrey leans in to kiss you again, threading his fingers through your hair and holding the nape of your neck. You can’t stop the whine that escapes your lips as you throb with arousal between your legs. He takes your hand to help you off the bar stool and over to the bed where he sits down and looks you over as you stand in front of him.

“Go on then.”

You know what to do. It’s been part of your routine for the past few nights. There’s something about the power of watching you undress for him that drives him wild.

Jeffrey Steinberg is used to being in control, in a way that only a CEO can be. A former CEO, you remind yourself. But every single day in Evergreen thus far has been chaotic. Unpredictable. Not under Jeffrey’s careful management.

Until today.

Now everything down here is under his command. And you’re sure he’s desperate to begin exerting that power. Starting with bending you to his will.

You pull your tailored black dress over your head and toss it on the floor unceremoniously as he slowly unbuttons his shirt sleeves and rolls them up. Your eyes linger on his muscular forearms, freckled and covered in dark blonde hair.

“Keep those ridiculous shoes on,” he instructs, looking you over from head to toe as you stand in front of him in your lingerie.

You unhook your bra and toss it on his lap, your nipples hardening in the cool, recycled air of the air-conditioned room. When you slip your panties down, your heels click on the stainless steel floor as you step out of them awkwardly.

He silently gestures for you to come closer with the crook of his fingers and you do so obediently, standing naked in front of him between his open thighs.

You look down at him sitting on the bed. Now what?

In answer to your silent question, he grabs your hips and kisses along the soft skin of your abdomen.

You let out an exhale of surprise when he presses his face into your mound and the velvety texture of his tongue rolls over your clit. His hands knead the flesh of your ass, pulling your body into him.

Jeffrey does many things - he talks dirty, he makes cutting comments, he fucks hard.

But as far as you know, eating pussy is something he doesn’t do.

Aside from a perfunctory lick or two to make sure your pussy is wet enough for him to fuck, he’s never done this.

Not the way he’s doing right now.

You run your hands through his hair and bite your lip to stifle a moan when he sucks on your clit. As if automatically, your hips roll with the tip of his tongue tracing gentle circles around the bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Jeffrey - oh, shit!” Your pleasure is interrupted when you stumble in your heels and hold onto his shoulders for balance to stop yourself from falling.

“Get on the bed. No - I said keep them on,” he adds when you go to step out of your heels.

You crawl onto the bed, feeling Finn’s luxurious satin sheets under your body. Jeffrey grabs the bottle of champagne and takes another drink and you lean back on your elbows, watching the muscles in his neck contract as he swallows.

“Open up,” he says, kneeling beside you.

You look uncertainly at the bottle of champagne. Surely he doesn’t want to fuck you with it.

“I don’t think-”

“Your mouth.” He smirks at the relief crossing your face. You part your lips to let him pour more into your mouth. You feel the bubbles on your tongue as he overspills and champagne drips down your neck and between your breasts. “So wasteful,” he tuts, looking over your body.

Jeffrey drags his tongue down your neck, following the beads of liquid running down your chest. “It does taste better like this, though.”

He holds the bottle above your body and slowly pours the last few splashes of champagne onto your breasts, the chilled liquid splashing and fizzing on your nipples and pooling in your navel. He tosses the empty bottle aside onto the mattress and laps up the sparkling alcohol from your body, starting at your stomach and licking a long and winding trail up to your breasts.

This is nice. It’s almost sweet, in Jeffrey’s own twisted way. But of course, the first time he’s cherishing your body like this is when he’s desecrating Finn’s bed and squandering the last bottle of expensive champagne in existence. But it doesn’t make you like the feeling of his tongue on your body any less. Fuck, you’re soaking wet for him. And it’s not the champagne that’s coating the inside of your thighs.

He looks up at you and grins when he finds your stiff nipple between his teeth. When he bites down on the hard peak you let out a whimper.

“Has anyone ever told you before that your tits are perfect?” Those green eyes penetrate your very soul and for some reason, you feel obliged to answer honestly.

“Yes,” you breathe. You’re actually more accustomed to men appreciating your body than simply using you the way Jeffrey does.

“Yeah?”

“Believe it or not I’m used to men being… being nice to me.” Your stomach twists somewhere between nervousness and being extremely turned on by his lips kissing the sweet, sticky remnants on your tits.

He pauses and raises an eyebrow. “You specifically asked me to disrespect you. You said you wanted to be a hole for me. You don’t want that?”

You look into his now slightly concerned face.

“You can disrespect me and still go down on me. That is if you want to. I mean, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, I want to alright.” The corners of your mouth turn up at this. He wants to. He wants you. “It’s just that your request regarding my treatment of you… confused things slightly.”

“And all this time I just thought you were selfish.” Your smile is wiped from your face when you see he looks deadly serious.

“I am selfish. I want you all to myself. And if I need to force you to spend a night cumming on my tongue over and over again until you can’t even remember that other men ever existed then that’s what I’ll do.”

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as he slides down your body, settling himself between your open legs. Jeffrey traces his fingers along your damp inner thigh and around your pussy, not quite firmly enough to feel any friction.

“Is this champagne or are you just happy I’m down here?”

“Very funny - ah-”

You’re cut off when the flat of his tongue licks a single broad stripe along your entrance up to your clit.

“It tastes sweeter.”

Fuck.

He shifts his weight to better position himself, and his muscular forearm wraps under your thigh to free up his other hand. His middle and forefinger push through the resistance of your throbbing cunt, easing into you. He moves them slowly in and out and you feel the wetness being pushed out of your throbbing centre, leaking all over Finn’s bedsheets.

“Shit, Jeffrey,” you pant, feeling everything coiling up impossibly tight around him.

There’s heat like a furnace, searing and wet as his lips envelop your clit. He looks up to gauge your reaction and must like what he sees because he groans needily, sending vibrations over your clit that make you lift your hips up, rolling over his mouth.

You run your fingers through his hair, your fingernails gently tickling his scalp in reassurance that you like what he’s doing. He’s fucked you before, sure, but this is intimate. This is personal. The way his fingers bury themselves into you and how his tongue flicks firmly over your clit has you quivering and panting already.

Everything seems to short-circuit inside you when he picks up pace, your soft caress of his hair turns into a tug and he responds by drilling into your g-spot. It’s like your servers are overloaded - every signal receptor crackles and jolts with electricity as he works diligently, his logical brain processing and responding to your every whimper and twitch of your muscles.

“Fuck, I’m - ah, fuck.”

Hearing him moan in encouragement, you dare yourself to look at him. His eyes are closed and he groans against your cunt in raw, unembellished pleasure and it sends your body into overload. Everything comes tumbling down as he cracks your code. It’s so good. It’s fucking great. Your pussy muscles tighten and release around his thick fingers and you grind yourself into his mouth, feeling the current of your orgasm surging and crashing over you.

You gasp and pull his hair, trying to fight the oversensitivity but he doubles down and just keeps going through your orgasm.

“Jeffrey, I’m done, I’m done, I’m finished - fuck-”

He lifts his head up giving you respite from the abuse his tongue is putting you through but your eyes widen in alarm when his grip around the back of your thigh tightens. A sinful smile breaks over his face, his wet chin glistening in the dim light as his other hand keeps sliding his fingers in and out of your soaking wet cunt.

“What’s wrong? Don’t nice guys eat your pussy like this?”

His mouth sucks your clit before you can answer and you squeal, struggling against the overstimulation. His fingers bear down harder and your muscles tense again. Quicker than lightning, another orgasm flashes at the surface of your consciousness. You arch your back and squeeze your eyes shut, you’re not sure if your body is fighting or welcoming the sensation.

Until you feel the drop.

Your irritated cry turns into a scream of pleasure as Jeffrey’s tongue flutters against your clit, sending crackling ecstasy flooding your veins.

“You sound like a whore when you cum, by the way,” he says when your twitching subsides and he pulls back to lick his lips. “Right, cum for me again and then I’m going to fuck you like the little slut you are.”

“No, Jeffrey. That’s enough, I-”

“It’s not a request.”

His tongue meets your pussy again and when he tries to grab you as you squirm away your hand instinctively cracks down, hitting him across the face. Hard.

Shit.

He sits up slowly on the edge of the bed and you feel your chest rising and falling as you gulp shallow breaths in anticipation. Jeffrey brings his hand to his cheekbone and opens his mouth, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

“I’m bleeding,” he says, tasting iron on the soft flesh inside his mouth. His eyes lock onto yours.

“I told you to stop.”

The corner of his lip turns up in a wicked smirk. “Hit me again.”

“Wait- what?”

He stands up and slowly unbuttons his shirt, taking it off. God, how are you supposed to say no to those abs?

“I’ll rephrase that for you, shall I?” Jeffrey unbuckles his belt with one hand and removes it, tossing it on the floor in one swift motion. It clatters on the floor and the hair on the back of your neck prickles. He takes off his pants and you can see the bulge of his erection in his boxers. “Try and hit me again.”

“Like, right now?”

He crawls over your body. “Yeah, right now.”

You know eight other people who would love the opportunity to do what you’re about to do.

You touch Jeffrey’s face gently then bring your hand back to slap him again but he grabs your wrist just before you make contact. You look in surprise from his strong hand circling your wrist to his eyes. His pupils are blown out like a wild animal as he pins your wrist to the bed.

“Now, struggle,” he hisses, bringing his mouth to your ear before biting your neck.

Holy shit.

You feel like prey being devoured from all angles as he reaches between your bodies to pull his cock out and shove it inside your slick entrance. It happens so fast you don’t have time to react before he’s pushing his hips down, pressing your body tight against the mattress and stretching your pussy.

With your free hand, you push at his shoulders but he’s too heavy, too strong. You try and leverage your knees but you can’t get the right angle wearing these stupid stilettos. Instead, the way you lift your knees up only allows him to thrust deeper.

You’re completely trapped under him. You cry out, your hand that’s pushing yourself away from his chest turns into a grip as you brace yourself, the searing heat in your abdomen pulling up and tightening as your walls clench around his cock. Your heels dig into his back - the sharp stiletto must hurt but it seems to spur him on.

“Did any of those nice guys fuck you like this?”

“N-no,” you choke, gasping for air as he pummels your g-spot. Your poor, over-exerted nerve endings are lighting up like burning stars in the night sky.

“Pity you’re trapped here with me, then.”

It happens again before you can fight it off. The squelching of wet skin, the sound of his ragged breathing in your ear, the feeling of his balls slapping your ass so hard it stings - it all hits you at once harder than the fucking asteroid. He drives so deep, you see the world going up in flames and entire oceans emptying themselves behind your eyelids as your orgasm is ripped from you.

He keeps fucking your aching pussy through it. You squeeze down hard, wanting to bring him his own relief too.

“I don’t want a nice guy,” you whimper in his ear. “I want you. Only you.”

You kiss the red welt on his cheek tenderly and it’s that that does it.

Jeffrey shudders violently, a string of curses leaves his lips as his throbbing cock pumps hot spurts of cum inside you as your cunt convulses around him.

His dead weight falls on top of you as he slumps in exhaustion, letting go of your wrist. Laboured, heavy breathing tickles your ear and you stroke the nape of his neck, feeling the sweat-soaked hair under your fingers.

He pulls out of you, letting the cum drip from your swollen pussy onto Finn’s bedsheets. He rolls over onto his back, his other arm still trapped under your neck.

You look at his open chest, still rising and falling gently. The unmarked territory in the crook of his arm looks inviting. Anyone else and you’d snuggle into the space there, plant sweet, little kisses on their neck and ask about their day.

But this is Jeffrey. He doesn’t do sweet, little kisses.

So instead you lift your head, releasing his arm and he clasps his hand behind his head as you both stare at the ceiling.

“You’ve got some right hand,” he says eventually. “Do that again and I’ll deactivate you like Hannah.” He looks at you, grinning.

Hannah. “What?” Your stomach twists sickeningly.

“I’m just joking,” he says when you don’t return his grin. “I wouldn’t deactivate you”

“What do you mean like Hannah? What happened?” You bite your lip.

He sighs like the question is inconveniencing him. “She hacked her room door open so Cortex deactivated her.”

“On your orders?”

“Yes.”

Until Greer arrived, she was the only person you knew from before. Even though you didn’t always see eye to eye - she was the closest thing you had to a friend down here. At least until you started whatever this thing with Jeffrey was.

And now she was deactivated. Because she had ended up on the wrong side of the guy you’re sharing a bed with.

“And you didn’t tell me? I thought I was supposed to be your second in command?”

“It happened so fast - she disobeyed direct orders and then she attacked me,” he says in exasperation.

That doesn’t sound like the Hannah you know. But then again…

You have noticed her and Axel whispering together - stopping abruptly when you entered the room. And then she tried to have Aida sectioned. And the whole deal with Finn’s incomplete message? Recently you’ve felt like you know her less and less.

“Should I be afraid of you, Jeffrey?” you whisper.

“You know I would never do that to you.”

“Why? Because I let you fuck me?”

His eyebrows knit together and he gives you an offended look. “Is that what this is? You let me fuck you? As in it’s some kind of strategic manoeuvre on your part?”

You shake your head. “Not to me.”

“It’s not to me either.”

Your eyes find the space on his chest again.

“You swear she attacked you?”

“I swear.” You look at the ceiling again but you feel the mattress shift when Jeffrey gets closer to you. “You know you don’t have to be afraid of me, right? If this stops… I’m not gonna… do anything. I’m not going to deactivate you if we stop fucking. You don’t have to ‘let me’ fuck you to feel safe down here.”

You turn to look at him and see that he’s on his side, eyes searching your face.

“I’m not afraid of you, Jeffrey. I’m fucking you because I actually like you.”

“You don’t think I’m a power-hungry, egotistical maniac?”

“No, I do. But for some reason, I like that about you.”

For the first time, he pulls you into his chest and kisses the top of your head. You sigh in quiet adoration, smelling the sweet musky scent on his chest.

“You know, I like you a lot too. I just always second guess peoples intentions because I’m never sure if they’re with me for me or the money.”

“So all it took was the world’s economy to disappear for you to trust that I do?”

He laughs. And it’s a beautiful, warm laugh. Not his usual semi-entertained scoff of derision that he lets out whenever something goes inevitably wrong in Evergreen.

“I’m still not sure I believe I deserve you,” says Jeffrey after a few beats. He looks down at you, nestled there in his chest as he combs your hair out of your face with his fingers. “You’re beautiful, kind, everyone down here likes you… you should be with someone nice.”

“I already told you - I don’t want someone nice.”

This makes him laugh again. God, it sounds beautiful.

“You know, you’re supposed to tell me I am nice - deep down.”

“Try harder to show it then,” you giggle.

Jeffrey gives you a tight squeeze before peppering the side of your face in kisses.

Sweet, little kisses.

#freddie stroma #evergreen podcast #evergreen #hidden signal: evergreen #hidden signal podcast #jeffrey steinberg #jeffrey steinberg x reader #smut #apocalypse

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pastelbatfandoms · 2 years ago

Text

40 question plural/system asks

What do you guys usually fight about, if anything? Relationships lol That's really our main difference. We can agree on or agree to disagree on most everything else.

2. What are everyone's fashion tastes? I've answered this in other surveys,which you can search for under the tags Surveys or OSDD. But I suppose I can do each of our main styles. Mine (Michelle) are Streetwear , Hippie and Fandom/Causal.

Mitchell's: Emo & Grunge

Mina: Y2k & Basic (Think Gossip Girl)

Rini's: Girly and Kawaii (she is a child)

Levathia's: Victorian Goth or Romantic Goth

Alistair: Gothic & Devil Core. Suits.

Elizabeth: Angel Core

Newt: All Black, Nu Goth maybe. She doesn't have a set style.

Lyria's: Witchy & Boho mixed with galaxy themes. (Was Hipster)

3. Who's the best at dealing with stress? Alistair without a doubt as he is one of our protectors and the most mature (besides Elizabeth) I would also say Lyria too since she is so spiritual and an Alien.

4. Who has the weirdest music taste? lol Mitch with his Screamo. JK I mean we all have varied tastes so I don't think any of our music taste is weird.

5. Do you see your system members as individual people, parts of a whole, or something else? Do other members see things differently? Some see themselves as individuals, I think other's of us see themselves as part of a system that work together to make a whole. (myself included)

6. Is there anything everyone can agree on or have in common? We agree on how to raise our kids (for the most part),who we're married to and our beliefs.

7. How long have you known you're part of a system? Has it taken other members a longer or shorter time to come around? They all knew long before I did lol. I have only known for a few months.

8. What was the discovery process like for you? It was a bit of a surprise. I even joked about having it to our husband once (mine and Lyria's) turns out we do lol

9. What do you feel your origins are, if you feel comfortable sharing? Like how did we get OSDD? um Childhood trauma starting at the age of 5. (Rape, Molestation, Domestic abuse within the household, parents divorced, Dad was an Alcoholic, My Grandma and Sister died when I was very young.)

10. If you could wake up tomorrow and have everyone be in separate bodies, would you? Probably not. That would be a lot, plus we'd have to move we barely have room for 5 people here let alone 8 more! I feel like their safer and more comfortable in the inner world anyway. Especially Rini, Elizabeth and Newt.

11. Do you have a favorite plural character or headcanon? Killer Frost aka Caitlin Snow from The Flash.

12. Does anyone like any video games? What about books or TV shows? omg yes. Been playing since we were children. I've always preferred fighting games, as well as Simulation games. As far as Books and TV? Man that's a whole other list...We've been reading since we were 4 and are big into TV shows....

Mitch likes pretty much anything, but his/their favorites are Nintendo games, WWE games and Super Hero/Anime games.

Levathia prefers D&D to Video games but she does like RPG's, Horror & Vampire The Masquerade.

Lyria likes Mobile games mostly.

Mina likes The Sims, Dress up games, and Anime. As long as it's sexy or cute.

Rini prefers card games like MLP or board games like candy land. But she does like cute anime and Disney games.

Alistair and Elizabeth prefer board games over video games.

Newt sometimes likes playing mobile card games.

13. Who's the most outdoorsy, if anyone? Who likes to stay inside the most, if anyone? I'd say Lyria and Mina. Liryia because she loves nature and Mina because she likes just going out.

I think the rest of us are more introverted though Elizabeth does like laying out when it's sunny and cloud gazing.

14. What is religion and spirituality like for your system, if applicable? We're all pretty spiritual, Elizabeth is the only one of us who is religious (She's Christian)

15. Who, if anyone, are you out to? Are they supportive? My Husband, My Niece (Who I found out has DID) and My Mom.

16. Do you see multiplicity as more of a spectrum that everyone's on, or something that only effects some people? Only effects those who have had severe childhood trauma and possibly ongoing.

17. Any nonhuman members? Yes. As I stated Liryia is an Alien (Plieadian) Elizabeth is an Angel, Alistair and Newt are Demons, Levathia is a Vampire and Mitch is part cat.

18. Do you have introjects? If so, where do they come from? One, My ex Valenn, who is with Levathia. Hopefully I don't have anymore introjects of ex's....

19. Do you consider yourself disordered? Do other members feel any differently about this? Yes, but I really don't think about it. It's always been this way I've had depression, Anxiety, PTSD and Disassociation for as long as I can remember. So It's pretty much the norm now.

20. What are everyone's favorite hobbies? I already answered in another survey....

21. How do you resolve in-system conflicts? We don't usually have them that I know of, but we do have an area towards the front that sits a round poker table that we sit at and discuss anything we have concerns over.

22. Do you dissociate often? What is dissociation like for you, if applicable? Sometimes I can't tell if I am or if I'm just really tired. I tend to space out often though and used to have really bad dizzy spells or feel like everything is in slow motion (including voices) I usually have to sit with my eyes closed for a few minutes or longer to settle.

23. Do you wish you had more or less members, or are you happy with what you've got now? I'm good with what I have. Though I wouldn't reject any new comers lol

24. How active are your other members? Who's around in headspace the most? Who fronts the most? Who's dormant, if anyone? As the host I am the most active. But Mitch, Liryia and Levathia are around the most. I would say Newt is the most inactive but she's not dormant she just never comes out because she guards the front with Alistair. I don't think we have any that are dormant...

25. Do different members have different art or handwriting styles? Feel free to show examples! YES! I have a more loose, all over the place handwriting and I'm better at drawing designs for letters and free hand.

Levathia has a more old world cursive style and she draws very dark things. (bleeding eyes and such)

Mitch has what I call "chicken scratch" handwriting lol but it's still readable just very hurried. He along with Rini are good at drawing anime characters.

Lyria has messy "cursive" large with plenty of misspellings lol she is the best artist out of all of us. She mainly draws/paints landscapes and planets from her memories of her home worlds. As well as sigils.

Rini's handwriting is very childish since she is our little.

Elizabeth's handwriting is very neat and light. She doesn't draw but she's good at decorating.

Alistair's handwriting is bold and precise like him. He's only drawn a self portrait (or helped me) but he says he's good at using charcoal and chalks. Very abstract.

Mina's handwriting is flowery with lots of hearts dotting the i's. She mainly doodles things like hearts and stars.

26. Do you ever feel NOT multiple? Like a singlet, or somewhere in the middle of the spectrum? Do you ever forget you're part of a system? Yes, alot actually, I used to think I was making it up.

27. Do you guys have different tastes in food? What are everyone's favorite foods?

I like chicken, pasta, hamburgers, breakfast food and breads.

I do know Mitch likes his junk food, cereal and chocolate...

Rini likes cereal, mac n cheese, Chicken Nuggets , Ice cream, Chocolate milk and Elizabeth eats more healthy, besides the occasional cake. (Sorry we're allergic to dairy guys!)

Mina likes frozen yogurt, Mocha's and fruit.

Levathia said she likes some japanese food and english.

Alistair prefers rich foods and dark chocolate (Wow total opposite of me lol)

Liryia doesn't have a preference. But prefers home cooked.

28. Have you ever struggled with denial? Yep.

29. Does your typing style differ depending on who's fronting? Sometimes. If Liryia's typing we get alot of misspellings lol and if Mina or Mitch is fronting we get alot of teen style typing (abbreviating every word...)

30. Do you have any amnesia? What's it like for you? I used to from childhood and as a teen. I get alot of my memories mixed up.

31. Do any system members have a different gender or sexuality? How do you guys handle this? Alistair is male, Newt is None Binary and Mitch goes by they/him. Everyone else is female.

We handle it just like normal, we're all pretty open minded.

32. How has your system changed over time? I don't know...Other then Alistair not just being a scary shadow or demon anymore. Levathia isn't as volatile either.

33. Who's the oldest member? Who's the youngest? I suppose Liryia though we have a lot of ageless members. Rini is the youngest.

34. Do you see your system more as family, more as friends, more as roommates, or anything else? Family and friends.

35. What would your perfect life or dream job look like? How does this differ between members? I really don't have one anymore. Maybe a tarot reader with a permanent house.

36. Name your favorite quality of all the members you can think of! Including yourself! ;) Alistair is answering- Hello, Michelle found it hard to think of what to say so here I am.

Firstly I would say My favorite quality's of hers would be her strength, how strong and mature she is given everything she has been through. She has grown so much these past few years (some of that we attribute to her life now and family) she is also creative, sensitive and a great listener.

Mina would like me to write on her next so I shall hm. Mina is spirited to say the least, she is fun and kind, very loving (sometimes a bit too trusting) she may wear her heart on her sleeve but it has led Michelle to were she is now so Minara is much needed. I also appreciate her more open sexual side that she is not afraid to express.

Elizabeth, ah how does a demon write about an Angel? We used to not get on very much but we have grown closer over time, as we've realized the roles we play balance each other out. Elizabeth is kind as well very humble (sometimes too) and is a great caretaker to Rini.

Speaking of, where do I begin? Rini is our little therefore she emerged when Michelle was around 5-7 years and went through her first trauma. She may hold some but not all. She is very strong, spirited, sweet and loving. She may be shy but she is also very funny, cute and a joy to be around. She is also very creative and smart as well. Rini created our inner world, so imagination she has indeed.

Now onto Mitchell or Mitch as they like to be called. Mitch is our little emotional one, they do hold alot of the trauma. But despite his quiet, moody exterior he is the one (besides Newt) that I relate to the most. They are misunderstood because of his demeanor but they are actually quite sweet and good. He cares for us all but especially Rini and Mina, he is also very fun and unique.

Levathia is the one that I was the closest to (aside from Newt) growing up in the headspace. We were persecuters together and she was every bit as protective as I when it came to our well being, though she went a bit overboard at times. Lev may have a temper but she has a soft spot for those she loves. She is also very worldy and mature.

Speaking of Worldly. Liyria is our newest member, well new to us, she is actually a starseed and along with Levathia is a part of Michelle's past lives. I may not know her well but what I do know of her I like. She is highly spiritual and is connected to the aliens and akashic records as I am the occult and demons. We relate well when it comes to this and I respect her knowledge and generosity to share with us.

Newt is my right hand. They are very mysterious and seem foreboding because they are mute. but Newt is actually very kind and protective. They take their role as guard very seriously, though I do wish they'd lighten up a bit.

That is all of us for now...I will have Michelle return.

37. What's the most awkward experience you can have that you attribute to plurality? Not remembering things that people will tell you did or said...

38. Is it easy for you guys to be co-conscious? Yes.

39. Are you blurry often? How do you deal with blurriness? A bit yeah. We just deal with it, sleep lol

40. Do you know a lot of details about your system members, or is it more hard for you to parse out? I don't know as much yet but I do get details through dreams.

#osdd #did survey #my alters

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christianlep · 7 months ago

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Blog 36- 4/17

Shin Sekai Yori (From the New World), is a unique anime that seems confusing at first, but becomes more understandable as you go on, much like a lot of other shows. At first it seems like there exists gifted people who are able to utilize people integrated within society, much like Naruto or Jiu Jitsu Kaisen, and that Saki and her friends are simply in a remote area training, however as we delve into the show, we see that this is not really the case. After a scientist was able to successfully conduct an experiment which allowed humans to utilize more of their brains, we were gifted with telekinesis, and while a cool concept in theory, in practice, it turned out to be one of the most devastating breakthroughs for humanity, and that’s because of human nature. While there are plenty of us who are content with where we are in life or the peace that we share, there are some who live in a more primitive sense, where they are driven by hunger for power, or simply disturbed and unable to integrate within the constructs of society. This in turn led to some people utilizing their power for destruction and domination, asserting themselves over others, and all the while, normal technology was unable to stop it. This show takes place 1000 years later, following the resulting aftermath of these events, where the power which many are now gifted is controlled and tamed, with the children being monitored early on to ensure that there are no more incidents. This show provides a commentary on the balance between freedom and surveillance, forcing us to contemplate our society and questioning what we can do to ensure total peace, a concept that is almost impossible under the concept of democracy and freedom. In the show, it seems that we are provided with the commentary that more control is somehow safer, as it aims to ensure that threats are tagged and dealt with before anything happens, however given the context that each person is potentially capable of destruction on the level of nuclear warfare, we are way more likely to agree that the systems in place of this new era is understandable. In real life however, I believe this does highlight the fact that we seem to be too late when it comes to warning signs of serious consequences, or that we don’t do too much, even now. While the Columbine Massacre was a notorious event that triggered elevated school safety and some reformation, there are still numerous events that have occurred since then, such as the Stoneman Douglas shooting and the Uvalde school shooting in Texas in 2022.

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localwebslingers · 11 months ago

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There was a small, apologetic smile at Harry's sigh and Peter continued eating the slice of pizza he had. It wasn't ideal by most standards, but it worked out and he was kind of attached to it at this point. The garage was small and cramped, had an odd mix of things to sometimes use for help, and was just somewhere safer to experiment with ideas that wasn't in the house. He'd started stashing tools inside at random spots only he could really get to, ingredients needed to make more webbing, even snacks for on days he was out there for hours on end.

It was in no way up to standards with any other lab out there, even the one in the subways his dad had that Peter had taken over for himself. But it was his, it was where he went to try and clear his head that wasn't patroling around for crime to focus on instead.

"I promise the solvent is safe for skin and hair. In case your eyebrows need it." he teased, smiling a little and quietly finishing the slice he was on as Harry looked the design over. Peter shrugged about the weight, "I don't really notice it, no. The first design was actually built into some old, broken wrist watches that Uncle Ben still had lying around. Never even noticed that they were gone in the first place. Pretty sure he and Aunt May forgot about them. Really handy to wear them in public that way, I still ahve them as an emergency backup."

And he might have also been slightly nostalgic about them and attached. The web shooters were normal to him now, just a part of Peter's every day, but he remembered hod long they took to make the first time, and how excited he was when they were finished.

Peter leaned back on his hands, "Materials are mostly metal to stay durable enough to actually be used day to day. I've been thrown through brick walls before, and into I can't tell you how many cars. They have to stand up to a beating themselves or they're basicaly useless to me. So metal alloys that can withstand high impact and stress for long periods of time." he couldn't really tag out in the middle of the more intese fights, or really any fights, to do repairs.

"If you wanna look inside it opens. There's a switch for it on the left you need to push to the side. That's where the cartridges of webbing go and the system that actually fires them. Probably also most of the weight you're noticing from it." he guessed, smiling a little ant adding the tease, "And before you ask no, you don't get to know the secret formula for the web fluid...but you can ask just about anything else about the design."

\\ @inhcritance \\

An old diving suit, and a fire extinguisher, and Harry exhaled in clearly visible concern, before nodding, because he could understand the need to make do with what he had, especially now of all times.

And especially when proximity to home was a necessity. Harry had needed to make his lab part of his home, all in all, because he knew there would be many days in which going to Oscorp would simply not be an option, and there were some projects he simply had to prioritize doing himself, especially the most classified ones.

Those like the bees, however, had far more people working on them, and Harry was only a part of the research, because credit was due where credit was due.

And if he accepted the credit for their little universe-traveling device with a nod, well. He was not going to argue, even if he often felt like he was being the less helpful part of the team. Thoughts he knew he couldn't really entertain, because what mattered was getting back home and hopefully do so with a way to keep in touch.

It was, moreover, hard to be in a bad mood when he watched Peter take off one of the webshooters, and Harry chose to do away with pretending to be anything else than deeply curious and amazed both, watching the little device unfold and then picking it up carefully, when offered.

"I like my eyebrows too much to risk them," he pointed out, however, mostly joking. "Solvent or not."

For all it was reassuring to know there was a solvent.

And for a few seconds, Harry focused on examining it, being careful not to touch the trigger at all, turning it around once as delicately as he could, and if nothing else, he had experience with delicate machinery.

"What's it built of?" He asked, intrigued. And then he nodded to himself again. "But the design is brilliant. Compact, tiny. Weighs a bit more than I expected." He admitted, as he offered it back. "Then again, I guess weight is not much of a concern to you anyway."

@localwebslingers

#muse | peter parker(tasm)#inhcritance #[v: down at street level]

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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years ago

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Burnt Toast - One

Summary: Everyone at Belle Reve has a secret. Even you, the new cook. But when Rick Flag smiles at you, you know everything will become unraveled.

A/N: Do I need to be starting a new series? No! Am I going to? Can’t stop me now. I hope you guys like it. I lost the list of urls of people who wanted to be tagged so I am so, so, so sorry to you all! This story will deal with themes of domestic violence so please do not read if this upsets you.

Pairing: Rick Flag/F!Reader

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13 for guns, violence, Harley being Harley

Word Count: 7.3k

Or read on Ao3 here!

Chapter One

“I can do this.” You didn’t believe that for a second. “I can do this!” Your hands shook as you tried to smooth the invisible wrinkles on your apron. “It is…just food.”

You had answered the ad in the paper like an idiot. The promised salary and benefits package had been too good to be true and the person you had first interviewed with had definitely smiled too wide to be trusted but you…needed the money. Needed the security. Needed to never go back to Gotham ever again.

So, when you went in for the second interview (which should have also been a red flag—even the four star restaurant in Gotham where you were a Sous Chef didn’t have two interviews) and showed off your best cacio e pepe and turkey scallopini, and learned where you would be cooking, you should have known better. Should have said no.

But a voice whispered at the back of your mind, reminding you that you needed to be safe. And where would be safer than behind the gates of a super-high-security prison, specifically in the wing filled with world-renowned criminals and metahumans?

“Thank you for this opportunity. I won’t let you down.” Stupid.

The first day went fairly well. Your hands only shook a half dozen times when you were handing over the plates but everyone did seem to enjoy their food. And there was a system in place, only a few of the prisoners were allowed in the cafeteria at the time—to avoid fights, you assumed—so you were able to learn almost everyone’s quirks fairly quickly. And most others were still confined to their cells during meal time so you would take a little cart around and push the food through the door, trying your best to be friendly. A woman you knew to be named Harley Quinn actually asked for seconds with a vibrant smile and a bit of your marinara sauce streaked on her cheek. You happily obliged, happier still to have her in the cafeteria instead of the box of barbed wire and fencing they called her cell. She had been your first and fiercest friend, happily holding up the line to talk with you about anything and everything and not leaving until you gave her an extra helping of the day’s dessert and even then, she lingered.

A man named Robert DuBois was the next to make you feel a little more at home behind all the trip wires and concrete. “This is good,” he said as he finished his serving of pumpkin-pie waffles when you came to collect his plate through his cell door. “A little heavy on the brown sugar.”

You just nodded, fighting a smile. “I’ll adjust the recipe. Thank you for the feedback.”

He chuckled at that and shook his head. “You’re too nice to be here. But I do like your food.”

It gave you a little bit of pep in your step for the rest of the day.

The job wasn’t that hard, really. You only had to make three meals a day for two dozen people and maybe a few more if the missions called for a few extra hands. It was just you, alone, in a big kitchen with an almost unlimited budget. You called the kitchen your little kingdom and were happy.

It had made you, for a moment or two, wonder why you were cooking in a prison. There were stereotypes about prison food for as long as prisons had existed and the muck you had seen growing in the fridges when you first arrived had only confused you further. They were suddenly feeding them well? You decided not to question it after a while; asking questions just made things more complicated. You knew that better than most.

But Harley seemed to know what you were thinking.

“Flag told Waller we’d behave better if we ate better,” Harley said with a wink about four months into your new position and after you had learned about Task Force X aka The Suicide Squad. “I think she just wanted him out of her office.”

Of course you had met Amanda Waller. You hardly ever cooked for her but she had commented on the steak and grilled asparagus you’d plated for her, half-asleep after being woken up at half past midnight just after another mission wrapped. “Not the worst,” she’d called it. You had guessed that was as close to a compliment you were ever going to get and you were thankful that you had barely any contact with her.

And then there was Rick Flag.

Always tired, perpetually exasperated, infuriatingly kind Colonel Rick Flag. He liked your mashed potatoes and always said thank you with a soft smile. He usually sat by himself in the cafeteria, or tried to. Harley often took the seat beside him. Sometimes Digger would join him and Harley. Sometimes not.

It was cute, in a strange way, to see how they cared for each other in their unique way. You supposed running around the world and saving it over and over again would form pretty strong bonds, no matter how infuriating.

And he was…cute. Handsome, actually. And you might have really liked how he filled out his holster but it wasn’t like you were about to do anything about your schoolgirl attraction, no matter how his soft, southern twang made your traitorous heart leap into your throat or how his smile always made you mirror the expression.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said as you handed over the plate of avocado caprese salad with grilled chicken breast. You hurried to add a small chunk the ciabatta bread you’d just pulled from the cooling rack onto his plate before he stepped away.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Y/N?”

“I guess I need daily reminding.” His smile grew a little wider and you, flustered, immediately looked away.

Harley caught your eye and sent you an over-enthusiastic thumbs up, gaining Digger’s attention. “The fuck you doin’, Harls?”

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up to see Flag still standing in front of you, worry creasing his forehead. “Oh, um. I think I left the oven on.” And then you sprinted into the back, letting the heavy door swing closed behind you.

Jesus Christ.

This was not why you were here. This was the exact opposite of why you were here. You shouldn’t even be thinking about Rick…Flag or anyone in that way. Hadn’t you learned your lesson?

“I’m the only one who will ever love you. Don’t you see? Don’t you see, sweetness? It is me and you—forever.”

“You okay?”

You jumped at the sound of Harley’s voice and spun, your hip knocking into the hard metal prep table and scattering bits of avocado skin and chopped tomato onto the broken tile floor. “Oh, Harley, I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

But Harley, as always, was undeterred. “You’re crying. Flag say something to you?”

You frowned and reached up and—yep—your fingers came back wet. “No, no, of course not. Flag’s been nothing but kind. All of you have.”

“Except for Blackguard,” Harley said with a sniff. She did not care for the young supervillain.

You chuckled and hurriedly wiped at your cheeks. “Seriously, ‘m fine.” You waved her on. “Don’t want to have security come back here and drag you out. You just got out of solitary.”

Harley sighed with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “You’re no fun.” But she turned and walked back toward the cafeteria.

“If, um, Flag asks, tell him it wasn’t him; he didn’t scare me off.” Why were you even saying this? It didn’t matter-

But the Queen of Gotham turned and winked. “Let ‘im squirm a bit. Builds character.”

The door swung shut behind and you had to smile—Rick Flag didn’t need to build character. He had plenty already. You liked him just fine.

But the smile faded quickly, too, with a terrible voice still whispering in your ear. “Sweetness, you know you can’t hide forever.”

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t try.

On your singular day off, letting your kitchen be occupied by the people who ran the other kitchen in the main wing of the prison, you sat down at your unsteady dining table and read the letter you’d picked up from the PO Box in the next town over.

Your nephew’s uneven handwriting on the front already had you smiling as you carefully opened the envelope. He wrote about his new school and the friends he made and finished the short letter with a drawing of a daisy because he remembered that you always liked them.

A second letter was folded behind the first and was decidedly less colorful. Your brother had always been full of smiles when you were growing up—it had been you two against the world. He had protected you when the world wanted to eat you alive. And now the tables had turned. You had to protect him.

But that was your fault, too.

His letter was short; how he was still enjoying his new job, how little Artie was his teacher’s favorite, how he missed you. And he (again) thanked you for the money you had given him before you all left Gotham. Miss you, asshole.

You chuckled and sniffled, feeling tears sting your eyes as you lifted the letter to your mouth to kiss the paper. “Miss you too, dumbass.”

You wrote a quick letter in return, telling them you were doing okay, that you’d made a few new friends, that you missed them both terribly, and you attached a recipe you’d thought up. It was simple enough your brother could follow it and you thought he and his son would both enjoy it. You didn’t write a return address and made sure it would be sent to the PO Box that your brother had set up, far away from his small apartment in Metropolis.

It was a precaution you both needed to take—because you had believed a terrible man when he said he loved you. He had ruined not only your life, but your brother and nephew’s too. And now you were alone.

“You seem sad.”

You looked up from your pan of French dip sandwiches on the bread you’d baked that morning and frowned at Cleo. She was new. Got caught trying to rob a bank with…rats and had been hauled off to Belle Reve. She was a handful of years younger than you and forever tired and nice. Nice and sweet and had a little rat on her shoulder who always waved to you when they came through the line.

“I’m fine, Cleo. I promise.”

“You have kind eyes,” she continued, earning a squeak from the Rat—Sebastian, you think his name was. “But they are sad. Even when you smile, you are sad.”

“Hurry up!” Blackguard groused. “I’m hungry!”

You pressed a smile to your face, trying to ignore her comments. Were you that easy to read? On the side of her tray, you put a tiny plate you’d found at a flea market, meant for Barbies you think, and filled it with a bit of cheese and spinach. Sebastian let out a happy squeak when he saw it. “Enjoy your lunch, Cleo.”

The girl nodded and took her tray, walking away to a table in the far corner, and you quickly plated the sandwich and small salad for Blackguard and ignored the rude comments he sent your way.

“I could kill him for you.”

You glanced up to see Harley next in line; you were pretty sure she had jumped the line because the last time you had seen her, she had been at the back of group. “That’s very sweet of you, Harley. But no.”

She shrugged and took her sandwich, making the au jus slosh a bit over the side of the tray. “Offer’s on the table, babe! Just let me know!”

The rest of the line waited their turn and you dutifully handed them food and made polite conversation with a few of them but you were exhausted. And Cleo was right. You were sad.

“Now, please don’t take this the wrong way,” an oh-so-familiar southern twang said, catching your attention. “But you look as exhausted as I feel.”

You had to chuckle at that and put an extra half of a sandwich on Rick’s plate before setting it on his tray. “Thank you for that, Rick. That’s what all the ladies want to hear.”

A pretty blush bloomed on his cheeks and he shook his head. “No, I mean, you look good. You always do. You’re beautiful.” The blush grew darker and your smile widened when he winced, finally stopping the deluge of words coming from his mouth. “Fuck. Sorry. I just think you may…need a nap.” His giant shoulders slumped. Defeated. “Just-just ignore me. I need a nap. Or a drink.”

You laughed and, yeah, it sounded tired. But he had called you beautiful and you hated how that was what you focused on. But it almost felt okay because it came from Rick. Sweet, kind Rick. “Coffee?” You asked at his retreating back.

He turned, brows pulled together. “What?”

And the courage you had only a second ago seemed to evaporate in an instant when you locked your eyes with his honey-colored gaze. “C-coffee? Do you…want some?” Your voice cracked on the last syllable like some lovesick pubescent teenager. Smooth.

But he smiled and you felt something your chest squeeze. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

You both settled on a time and you went about cleaning up, fighting a smile on your face.

“You owe me fifty bucks!” Harley’s voice rang out.

You glanced up to see Boomer grumble and pull out a stack of bills from god knows where and hand a rumpled fifty dollar bill to Harley who gleefully snatched it away.

She caught your eye and winked. “Thanks, babe!”

You didn’t know what that meant.

The coffee was…bad. You should have known because you were in a literal prison and you had no control over what brand was purchased or what creamers were stocked but damn. It was awful. You winced when you took a sip and Rick laughed.

“Sorry. Should’ve warned you.” But he kept drinking his own cup without even batting an eye.

“That is awful.”

“You get used to it after a bit.”

“I think I’ll just bring my own if I need coffee.” You pushed the steaming cup away with a grimace but huffed when Rick took it and downed that one, too. “You’re that tired? That you’d drink two cups of tar?”

He shrugged and you tried not to bite you lip when your eyes dragged across his shoulders. “Can I bribe you into bringing me good coffee?” Rick leaned forward, closer to you over the small table.

“Oh?” You asked, rising to the occasion without realizing you definitely, definitely should not. “What do you think my price is?”

Again, a pretty, vibrant red colored his cheeks and his large hands curled around the empty cup in his grip. He was pretty. “I honestly don’t know.”

And maybe it was your need for a friend outside the criminals who made you smile, but you opened your mouth and asked, “Can you just talk to me when you get the chance?” A wince crumpled your face as soon as you finished. That just sounded pathetic. “Actually, I-”

“I’d really like that.” And his smile was so sincere and his face was so open that you had to bite down your refusal. “ ‘s been a while since I’ve had any sort of conversation with somebody without a body count.”

“Who says I haven’t killed anyone?” Oh. A question for the ages. And you almost hated how Rick’s eyes seemed to light up with quiet laughter.

“So, what should our first topic of conversation be? I’m partial to the weather, food, and shitty 80s movies.”

And you relaxed with that, stress leaching from your shoulders. He was giving you an out. Keep it simple, keep it light. “You know I’m partial to food. So, let’s try 80’s movies for now.”

And that was how it started. You would trade terrible movies, giving the other a few days to watch them and then ‘discuss’ them the next time you met up between your meal prep in the kitchen and his missions and meetings with Waller.

“This was the worst movie I have ever seen.” Rick threw down the copy of ‘Space Mutiny’ onto the small table you’d both claimed as ‘yours’ in the shitty breakroom and settled into his chair. “Friendship over.”

You just laughed.

But Rick paid you back double with telling you to watch ‘The Pumaman.’ You nearly chucked the blu-ray case at his head when you saw him next. But it was good. The tradition continued for a few weeks only bracketed by one or two missions that kept him away.

It had been a late night in the kitchens. You’d promised Boomer eggs benedict for breakfast the next day and hadn’t realized your fridges were decidedly empty of everything you needed. You’d had to wait for the delivery and stocked the kitchen yourself when you heard someone knocking at the kitchen door. You turned, arms filled with five dozen eggs and six pounds of butter, to see Rick in the doorway. The light from the cafeteria framing him like some angry, beautiful angel. You quickly tried to erase that thought. (You were unsuccessful.)

He’d been out on a mission for the past week and must’ve just come back—it looked like he was still covered in grime and blood and had a bandage across the bridge of his nose. “Hey! You’re back!” You glanced at that the clock and grimaced. It was nearing midnight. “You need to sleep.” The food in your arms was unceremoniously pushed into the nearest fridge and you turned to him. “I can make you some tea? Some of the guys asked for nighttime tea. I’m surprised Waller approved that purchase. I promise it’ll be better than that coffee I made.” You started toward the cabinet where the tea was kept, not even realizing he hadn’t said a word, when a warm hand grasped your wrist and pulled you to a stop.

“Can we…just watch a movie?” He was tired. You could hear it in his voice and he swayed on his feet. And you couldn’t tell him no. “Sure. Yeah, of course. Lead the way.”

And he did, his hand sliding down to gently grasp your hand and his roughened fingers curled around yours and you almost froze, nearly tripped over yourself as he pivoted and started to lead you out of the kitchens.

His office was small but well-kept with a desk and chair and a couch on the other side. He all but set you down on the couch and then clacked on his computer, shoving something into the drive and turning the screen toward the couch in the dark.

You were only about twenty minutes into the (god awful—what were you thinking, Olivia Newton-John?!) movie when Rick actually said something. “I usually can’t sleep after a mission like that.” He paused and you had to stop yourself from reaching out and grabbing his hand, trying to provide a miniscule bit of comfort. “We lost a few good ones today. Had some close calls.”

“You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay.”

Rick’s head lolled to the side and he gave you a soft smile that had you sighing. Dammit. “But I want to. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.”

And so he did. He told you about how Carl Draper stepped into a nuclear reactor to keep it from exploding and saved the entire team after it was sabotaged by a guy who went by the name Parasite. Two other team members died along the way, keeping the world safe and without any of the thanks usually reserved for the so-called Justice League.

“Some of these guys are real assholes; world is better without ‘em anyway. But some of them…” he paused. “Some of them are good, deep down. Just a little hurt.”

And that was the last thing he said before his eyes closed and he started to snore.

You started to move, to get up to turn off the movie, but then Rick’s head slipped to your shoulder and you didn’t dare move. You could give him this, couldn’t you? Just a little bit of rest. Even if you knew this was all you could—nothing more. You learned your lesson and didn’t want to bring Rick down into your mess.

He obviously had enough to deal with.

So, you shifted just enough to let his head rest a little higher on your shoulder so his neck wouldn’t hurt, and suffered through the rest of Xanadu.

“Can you get me hair dye?”

You looked up from the pot of hoisin sauce you’d just brought out from the kitchen to see Harley waiting for you. “Hair dye?”

She hummed, smile widening. “I need a change. I just don’t think pink and blue are for me.” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed her long, white-blonde hair over her shoulders with a wink. “I either change my hair or change someone else’s. And I don’t think Flag would like to wake up with tangerine colored hair next time he goes to sleep on a mission.”

You chuckled and pivoted to grab the beef you’d been cooking all night and into the morning and placed it next to the sauce. “What color, Harley?”

She screeched with a laugh and clapped her hands. “Can you please, please, please get me red and black? I think I’d look so cute.”

You agreed as long as she promised to leave Rick’s hair alone and she pinky-promised before skipping back to Boomer’s side as he slept on one of the cafeteria tables, waiting for lunch to be served. You readied the rest of the food and made sure your stack of plates was ready before calling everyone forward and watching the usual jockeying for the first place in line.

It had been a quiet couple of weeks. The most ‘action’ your ragtag criminals had seen was being shipped out to Monaco and then immediately shipped back because the Justice League had arrived first. Waller had been horrendously embarrassed. Probably because it had been discovered a handful of senators had been having quite a party, completely unaware of the destruction around them. Classy.

But it was good to have everyone back so soon, and technically, Waller still needed to take ten years off everyone’s sentence because the mission had been completed. Just not by them.

It was a fun little loophole. Rick had been so proud when he told you, nearly glowing.

Movies in his office progressed to movies at your tiny little rental home which progressed to you trying to teach him how to cook. You poked fun at how he readily admitted to burning anything he tried to sauté but learned that he was particularly proud of the French toast recipe he learned from his grandma.

And today, he’d arrived at your little rental, on your rare day off, with a bag filled with the ingredients and all but told you to keep your hands away from the stove while he ‘worked.’ And you liked watching him work. Rick had a habit of sticking the tip of his tongue out of the side of his mouth when he was really concentrating, something you knew he did not do while out in the field. You’d seen the videos. He was smart. Lethal. Handsome. And it was dangerous enough to have him as a friend. But you were always bad at telling people, including yourself, no. And you wanted to be near him. Wanted to make him smile. Wanted…him. In any way you could have him. For however long this strange relationship lasted.

He set a plate full of the powdered sugar-covered treat in front of her with a timid smile. “I…hope you like it.”

You only smiled and picked up your fork and dug in. And while a bit of the corners were a bit burnt, it was delicious and you quickly demolished the entire serving, mopping up the last bit of butter slick syrup with your finger.

“I can make you more.”

You felt a hot wave of embarrassment wash over you and you hung your head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Rick shuffled the cheaply-made chair he currently occupied a little closer to yours, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I finally made something edible for you.”

“It was really, really good, Rick. I just ate it so-”

“You ate like you were hungry. Nothing wrong with a bit of an appetite. And I’m just happy I didn’t set off your fire alarm again.”

You chuckled and watched him cock his head to the side with a sweet smile. “You’re getting better. But really, give your Gram my best. I might want to steal that recipe from her.”

His smile widened. “She’ll love to hear that.”

You batted him away when he tried to clean up the (horrendous) mess he left behind and told him to pick a movie while he waited.

He huffed, grumbling something about “I made the mess, I should clean it” but did as he was told. The sink was soon filled with hot, soapy water and stung at your hands as you plunged the messy plates and pans deep. No matter how much time you had spent washing dishes before everything in Gotham, you still liked the sting, the bite of the hot water. You scrubbed mindlessly, yelling at Rick when he suggested watching “Mac and Me” and laughing when he laughed, too.

This felt nice. Normal. Domestic. So far and away from what you had left behind in Gotham. It felt good to have (gorgeous) friends and be able to laugh with them on a late Saturday morning. It felt like you could finally breathe and-

“Y/N?”

You looked up from the soapy water, clean spatula in hand, to see Rick suddenly at your side. When had he moved? “Yeah?”

“What’s this?” He held up a torn piece of paper, on familiar letterhead.

In your messy scrawl, was written: 33-45-12-99-67-00-14 – Two bags – locker 22 at Amusement Mile station – car waiting in Old Gotham – ditch phone

Your wet hand reached out and snatched it, throwing it into the soapy water. The ink bled and distorted in moments. “Nothing. Just um…just…”

“Don’t lie.”

You turned at the sound of his soft voice. It wasn’t the bravado he saved for the field or the stern cadence he reserved for new Task Force X recruits. This was just Rick Flag. Your friend. Asking you not to lie to him.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Not a lie. But you saw the disappointment flicker across his features anyway.

He nodded and looked away. “You still wanna watch a movie?”

And your poor heart leapt into your throat. Hope. “Of course.”

And he smiled.

It was good. Things were good. You got scolded after helping Harley dye her hair in the kitchen sink but it was okay because she wrapped you in one of the tightest hugs you’d ever received and offered to kill the “office chump” who had caught you. It was good because Robert was out of solitary for meals and you could smile at him without the metal door separating you. It was good because Rick was…Rick. Still terrible at cooking but learning.

And he recently developed a new habit.

It started with his fingers drumming next to yours on the counter. Just close enough for you to feel the roughened skin move against your own. And then his hand would slide across your back if he had to shuffle around you in your tiny, tiny kitchen and you always had to bite your lip to stop the smile you felt growing.

And then he hugged you. It first started as one arm slung over your shoulder when you brought him and his team unevenly frosted cupcakes after they landed and thanked them for saving the world. Then it progressed further to ever so briefly holding you close after longer missions (which seemed to be coming more and more often) and then…his hands would softly cradle your face, thumbs swiping against your jaw like you were made of the finest gold before all but crushing you to his chest. Those types of hugs were usually reserved after missions when he lost a teammate and you would wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him back, trying to press a bit of joy back into his soul through the contact.

Yes. Rick had a new habit. And it revolved around touching you.

And you didn’t complain.

But it was a slowly twisting knife in your gut. His strangely addictive scent of earth, black coffee, some sort of spicy cologne, and burnt toast that would cling to his clothes after another rushed breakfast had burned its way into your nose. And you found yourself plucking at your shirt and bringing it to your nose after he gave you another hug just to smell it again.

“Hey darlin’,” Rick said, stepping into the kitchen early one morning. And that was another thing—his choice of nickname. Darling. You had never been anyone’s darling. And he called you his.

Dangerous.

It was all so dangerous.

You looked up from your stack of pancakes to smile at him. “Good morning. You’re here early.”

A small smile pushed at his lips as he stepped closer, letting the door swing closed behind him. “Waller called me in.”

“Where’s she sending you now?” You quickly plated a few pancakes and a handful of bacon and thrust it at him, knowing he probably hadn’t eaten, or if he had, it was just black coffee and burnt toast (again).

“You know that’s classified, darlin’,” he said, taking the plate. “Just wanted to see you before we shipped out.”

You smiled at him and shook your head. “And I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”

He nodded and rolled up a bit of bacon in one of the pancakes and took a large bite. “Yeah. I know,” he said as he swallowed. “Still just…wanted to see you.”

You looked away at that fighting a smile and a sinking feeling in your gut. “I’m glad. You know I always like seeing you.” You had to clear your throat. “Need me to box up a bit of this? For the team?”

Rick paused, a bit of pancake still squirrelled away in his cheek, his lips again turning up in a smile. “I’m sure they’d like that.”

A few minutes later you were out on the tarmac, handing Styrofoam containers filled with breakfast to each of the teammates and wishing them luck. Rick was the last to board and he stepped to your side as the sun started to rise above the hangar. “We’ll be back in a few days.”

“Keep Harley out of trouble.”

Rick groaned. “You know she creates trouble.”

You laughed and reached out to grab his hand and squeeze before you could stop yourself. “I am aware. Was worth a shot, though.”

Rick turned to look at you, broad shoulders blocking out the sun for a moment. “Can we have cinnamon rolls for breakfast when we get back?”

You nodded, laughing a bit at how serious he had seemed. “Of course. I think everyone will like that.”

Rick nodded and his familiar small smile pushed at his lips. “I’ll be back soon,” he repeated.

You opened your mouth, ready to tease him a bit, but your brain short-circuited when you felt his lips brush against your forehead and one of his large hands squeezed at your hip.

And then he was gone.

You went through the rest of the day in a haze, nearly burning the chicken you had made for lunch. But you couldn’t stop smiling. It was a good day. You felt lighter, despite the voice at the back of your mind whispering that this was dangerous.

“You’re smiling today,” Cleo said with Sebastian squeaking on her shoulder. “Your eyes are bright.”

You chuckled, feeling a bit of embarrassment wash over you and you moved her along quickly with an extra bit of food for her beloved companion and ignored the sneer that quickly followed from Blackguard.

The rest of the day finished in a neat little bow and you waved to a few of the guards as you walked out to your tiny little sedan and drove back to your rental. When you threw the car in park, you glanced up at the tiny home and your heart clenched. The front door was open.

You quickly leaned down and grabbed the small handgun you had taped to the bottom of your seat and stepped out, cocked and ready. It was easy to realize you were alone in the house and you took stock of the damage. The house was a wreck. Your precious-few belongings were all in pieces. The handful of outfits you’d brought from Gotham were shredded. But that wasn’t what you cared about.

No.

Painted over your bed in red paint were the words: Found You!

Terror gripped your spine and you felt bile rise in your throat, making you dash to your bathroom to empty your stomach. You thought you had been so safe, so careful. How had he found you? You pushed out a breath and scratched at your forehead with the butt of the gun. “Fuck.”

Obviously you wouldn’t get your deposit back since you were cutting your rental agreement laughably short and you nearly depleted your saving sending in painters and handymen to repair all the damage so your landlord wouldn’t see it. But it wasn’t like you could stay here. You were already playing with fire by supervising the repairs. Staying where he knew you to be was stupid. But running wasn’t an option. Your place of work was safe. Safer than anywhere else you could find in the country.

You had slept in your car, parked in Belle Reve’s parking lot, your gun still in your hand. When one of the guards caught you, you had to make a plan. Had to find another place to live but it wasn’t like the surrounding area was bursting with apartments or rental homes. There was a couch in the small breakroom that was…basically all yours anyway. It was small and lumpy and probably older than you, but it would work. You really only wore the over-starched trousers and button-down that had been your assigned ‘uniform’ since taking the job, and you had several of each, just enough to fill the small locker with your name on it in tape.

All of your “good” clothes had been left in Gotham.

Your home had become Belle Reve overnight. You would survive. And that was all that mattered now. He would be stupid to try to get to you here.

On the third night of your ‘stay’ at Belle Reve’s breakroom, you were dead on your feet and the shitty couch looked welcoming after you had washed your face and you curled under a cheap blanket after flicking off the light.

But, just as sleep started to welcome you, a warm hand wrapped around your arm and your eyes shot open. The jump nearly tore you from your skin but you just tumbled to the dirty floor instead.

“Y/N?”

It didn’t sound like him—it didn’t, it didn’t, it didn’t. But you couldn’t stop the shakes wracking your body or how you had immediately reached up to shield your face.

“Y/N? Hey, hey, it’s me.”

And then a large body was crowding you, muscular thighs bracketing yours on the worn carpet. Careful, rough hands gently grasped your shoulders and you looked up and—there was Rick. Warm eyes wide with questions and concern and still covered in grime and blood from the mission. “Oh, Rick. I-I’m sorry-”

“No. No you have nothing to say sorry for—I scared you.” He sighed and you watched something skitter across his gaze, like he was contemplating something and then his warm hands moved to cradle your face and you felt yourself sag in his grip. It was so gentle. “What’re you doin’ here, darlin’?”

Embarrassment washed over you and you winced. “I was…uh…sleeping.”

“Here?”

“Yeah. M’house got broken into and I didn’t really have another place to go.”

“Don’t trust the motels around here, yeah?” He asked it with a smile, and you had to reciprocate. And he still held you so gently.

But you still didn’t tell the complete truth. “Yeah. Thought there would be fewer bed bugs here.”

Rick smiled and shook his head before he stood and you tried not to frown at how the warmth had left. But then he held out a hand to you, still a mess on the floor. “C’mon.”

“What?”

“I’ve got an extra bedroom.”

“Rick, I couldn’t-”

“No bed bugs. I promise. And I paid good money for that mattress. Someone’s gotta use it.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue and let him lead you to his truck out in the parking lot. The pair of you were quiet as he drove, some old country song whispering over his speakers. It was quiet and comfortable.

The apartment was in a quiet part of town about forty-five minutes away from Belle Reve. It was well-kept, almost meticulously clean, and mostly devoid of any sort of personal items except for a few scattered pictures in small frames. You smiled as you recognized Harley and Boomer in one of the photos. Harley had slung her arm over Rick’s shoulders and was beaming at the camera. All of them were covered in blood and…something orange.

“One of the guys took that picture—it was his last mission before he qualified for an early release.”

“Who?” You asked, turning to look at him.

“Floyd Lawton.”

“Deadshot took this family photo?!” Of course you knew who the famed assassin was-Gotham had been his stomping ground.

Rick chuckled and nodded. “Took my phone without me noticing and yelled at us to smile.” He stepped to your side and looked at the picture. “I think you’d like him.”

“If you like him, he’s gotta be a good guy.” You spoke for a little longer, mostly about the mission and how Harley once again became a trouble magnet, before he took you by your hand and led you toward the spare bedroom. The bed did look comfortable, even with the terrible plaid comforter and mismatched pillows on top. “Are you sure this is okay?”

Rick squeezed your hand, his gentle smile still on his face. “Yeah. Get some sleep. There’s a few of my shirts and stuff in the dresser if you want something to sleep in.” He looked away after that, a bit of pink on his cheeks. “Want me to wake you up around five? So we can go in together?”

“Sounds good.”

He nodded and leaned forward to brush another kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep, darlin’.”

And you tried, head fuzzy with thoughts of Rick and terrible red paint. But you slept better in that handful of hours in Rick’s guest room than you did during the 8 hours you managed to get each night on the breakroom’s couch.

And maybe it was the near-high you achieved for sleeping so well but you felt like you could take on the world when you heard Rick knock on the bedroom door and murmur a soft, “good morning.”

You washed your face again and slipped out of the shirt you had commandeered last night and back into your uniform, meeting Rick at the front door.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah.” And your traitorous heart thudded sharply behind your ribs when Rick’s hand settled on the small of your back as he led you down to his truck. He was quick to open the passenger side door for you and then jogged around to the driver’s side. And you expected another quiet, comfortable drive back to the prison.

That didn’t happen.

“You know you can tell me anything.” Rick glanced at you through the corner of his eye.

No, I can’t. “Yeah, I know.”

He paused. “Wanna tell me why you had a gun hidden in your car?”

Your lips twisted into a grimace and you turned to look out the window. “I’ve just got some things in my past that I want to keep in my past.”

“That’s not an answer, darlin’.”

You didn’t answer.

Rick murmured your name. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re doing enough—more than enough, by letting me stay at your apartment. I promise I’ll find another place soon and-”

The words evaporated as his warm hand covered yours on your leg. “Don’t. Don’t do that. I’m here to help. I want to help.”

“It isn’t your fight.”

“But I want it to be; I want to help you. Don’t you know I care about you?”

You pulled your hand out from under his to wring your hands together with a grimace. “I know you’re used to saving the world and fighting the good fight but this is complicated. And I don’t want to drag you into it. You’ve got enough going on.”

“I want to help!” He said, voice bordering on exasperation. “Let me help!”

“You can’t!” You snap and instantly regret it. You visibly deflate and shake your head. You never wanted to hurt him. “I can handle this. You don’t have to save me.”

“I’m not trying to save you. I’m trying to help you.”

“Rick,” his name is pushed out in a soft breath, “just stop. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

You watched him wrap his hands a little tighter around the steering wheel, leather creaking under his grip. You had seen another man do something like that, time and time again. He was angry. You opened your mouth to apologize—to babble about just needing time, to say that you didn’t mean it—his grip relaxed and he nodded. And he sighed. “Everyone’s got secrets. I understand. But you let me know if there’s anything I can do, yeah? Anything.”

Tension you didn’t realize you’d felt seizing your body leached out with your next breath. Gentle Rick. Always gentle. You nodded and murmured, “thank you,” just as he pulled into the parking lot.

He got out and made sure to open your door again for you. You smiled at him and reached out to squeeze his arm in thanks. It was okay. Everything was okay. You’d go back to the kitchens to cook the promised cinnamon rolls and he’d go speak with Waller and it would be okay. It would go back to normal. It would-

A hand caught your arm and you turned with a stumble, a question on your tongue, but then his lips were on yours and his warm hand was cradling your cheek and you…you felt his smile against your own and your hand reached up to tangle in his hair and you knew then; you were in trouble.

A/N: Please let me know what you think! I hope to have the next part up soon.

#rick flag x reader #rick flag imagine #suicide squad imagine #rick flag #tw: domestic violence

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years ago

Text

Handcuffed together: 10 Leave

You sat on the bed and watched Loki devour his pancakes. He looked awful, but you didn’t comment on it. He hadn’t said anything to you, yet. You didn’t know how to start a conversation at this point, so you stayed quiet. After a few moments Loki was done with his pancakes. He took the tray and sat it on the stand besides his desk. ‘How are you doing?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine, worried about you. How are you?’ you answered.

‘I’m okay, does your throat still hurt?’ he asked.

You shook your head, it was a lie. Your throat still hurt, but you didn’t want to make him feel worse about the whole situation. As soon as you shook your head Loki looked angry at you. He moved closer to you. He slowly moved his hands towards your throat, like you would approach a scared animal. You saw the scared look in his eyes. Scared that you would flinch, scared that you would be scared of him. You didn’t, as long as his eyes were green, you trusted him. A green glow emitted from his hands and the pain in your throat subsided.

‘How is that?’ he asked.

‘Better’ you answered.

‘Why did you leave last night? And what have you been doing all day?’ you wondered.

‘I needed to be alone, to think. I searched all night for a spell to protect my mind, but wasn’t successful..’ ‘I’m sorry’ his voice croaked.

‘You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault’ you argued.

‘I- let’s not get into it.. did Thor sleep in your room last night?’ he said.

‘Yeah he did, a bit weird but it was sweet’ you answered.

Loki looked relieved that you weren’t alone last night. You saw him supress a yawn, he really must be tired. You laid back on the bed with your back against the headboard. You grabbed his arm and felt him stiffen. For a moment the two of you didn’t move. He looked in your eyes, searching for something. You didn’t know for what. When you tugged on his arm he moved closer to you. You pulled his head on your chest and started to stroke his hair. After a while he relaxed and put his arms around you.

‘I think you should leave’ he finally said.

‘What?’ you were shocked.

‘You should leave. Take Thor with you, Natasha or maybe even Steve’ he said.

‘I’m not leaving you’ you said without hesitation.

‘You should’ he said.

‘I shouldn’t’ you were doing your best not to get angry at him right now. ‘Why do you want me to leave?’

‘The further away you are from me, the safer’ he said.

‘If you really believed that, you would have been gone by now’ you argued.

‘Maybe I tried’ he said softly. He looked up at you, for a moment the both of you were completely silent. You wondered if he was lying or if he really tried to leave last night. And if he did, why he hadn’t. Before you could answer these questions he moved closer and kissed you. The kiss was slow, but deep. He didn’t stop kissing you and crawled on top of you. He broke the kiss to undress you completely. He maintained intense eye contact the entire time, like he was waiting for you to protest against his actions. When you were naked underneath him he undressed himself slowly. You wondered why he didn’t magic the clothes away, he did it most of the time.

‘Because I’m low on magic’ he suddenly said.

‘Wha- are you in my mind?’ you asked.

He kissed you again and hummed yes in response. That’s when you felt him. You felt him in your mind. It wasn’t painful, you didn’t hear him, it felt weird. You wanted him to kiss you more passionately and tell him to get out of your mind. That’s when he did kiss you more passionately. No way you heard his voice in your head. You slapped him against his chest, but he didn’t react. He kept kissing you and it was becoming harder to concentrate. He was making every move you wanted him to. When you wanted his hands on your breast he did, the moment after it popped in your head. He slowly kissed you down your neck, towards your breasts. At this point you could tell him to get out of your head, but you didn’t want to anymore.

He slowly circled your nipple with his tongue, while pinching the other. The only sounds that left your mouth were moans and his name. You wanted to feel his tongue on your clit. He kissed downwards and you spread your legs for him. Without any teasing you felt his warm tongue circling your clit. You felt your orgasm build up, but felt empty inside. Two of his fingers entered you and immediately started to stroke your g-spot. It didn’t take long, before you came hard. It was intense to have Loki act on everything you thought. He retracted his fingers and replaced them quickly with his hardened cock. He was thrusting in and out of you in a quick but still intimate speed. He laid his forehead against yours and started into your eyes. Your hands went to his hair and you pulled him in for a kiss.

You hooked your legs around his waist, so he could go deeper. His pace quickened when you wanted to. He didn’t stop kissing you. You were running out of air but you didn’t want him to stop. He was now slamming into you, hitting the exact right spot. You felt like passing out, but urged him in your head to go on. When your walls clenched around his cock you felt his seed spill inside of you. He then broke the kiss you moan your name aloud. After a few more thrust he pulled out and laid down beside you. He was completely out of breath, and so were you.

You hugged closer against him and he held you tightly in his arms. You wanted to ask if he was okay, but when you looked up you saw him sound asleep. You thought it was better to let him sleep. When you had wriggled out of his arms you went to the bedroom to clean yourself up. Then you joined Loki in the bed, where he unconsciously grabbed you and pulled you close. He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, you couldn’t understand it. You listened to his heart rate and to the soft breathing. The rhythm made you feel sleepy and it didn’t take long before you closed your eyes and drifted away.

Startled by loud knocking on the door you jumped out of the bed. You were completely dressed and noticed that Loki sat on the bed.

‘Just give me a minute’ he said to whomever was knocking on the door.

‘Loki?’ you asked. ‘What’s happening?’

You sat down beside him. He looked better and more rested now, but you didn’t like the look on his face. He looked sad, it broke your heart.

‘Love, I know you will be mad. Just remember to keep training and I will see you very soon’ he started.

‘What?’ you asked, confused. Was he really leaving?

He put his fingers and either temple. ‘Forgive me, and know that I love you’ he said. A green glow emitted from his fingers and everything went black.

You woke up in a room you didn’t recognize. You laid on a comfortable bed. Scanning the room, you didn’t see anyone. You were on your guard. Leaving the bed, you walked towards the door and slowly opened it. The door led you to a living room. The tv was on and you heard someone in the kitchen. You slowly stalked around the couch and peeked inside. That’s when you saw Thor. The moment he saw you the smile on his face faltered.

‘Relax sister, this is just temporary’ he began.

‘What? Where is Loki? How? Take me back!’ you yelled at him.

‘Loki is safe at Stark Tower. They are going to come up with a plan. Tony is going to up his security system, so Thanos’ minions can’t get in. After he is finished you have my word, I’ll take you back’ he said.

‘TAKE. ME. BACK. NOW!’ you yelled, ignoring all his reasons.

‘This was the only way Loki agreed to stay’ he said.

That’s when you realised that Loki was the one to knock you out. Many emotions surged through you. You were angry, sad, hated him, missed him, wanted to hug him, punch him. You didn’t really know how to feel at this point. In your head you knew that this plan was logical, but it didn’t feel right to be away from Loki.

‘At least tell me where we are’ you said.

‘I’m under clear instructions not to. In case you escape and go back. You are stuck here with me and I will continue your combat training’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. After training we will have lots of fun. There are movies and board games. And I’m sure Tony will have the system updated in now time’ Thor smiled brightly at you.

You weren’t as happy as Thor was at the moment. You were just hoping that he was right.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream @the-best-phineas @theaudacitytowrite @pescadoavocado @l0nelyasian @mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes @ragweed98 @oh-my-gerd @morganmofresh @saiyanstars @thehornytitties

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darthkruge · 4 years ago

Note

Okay :3

Could I ask for some quick little hc’s on the reader getting hurt on a mission?

I just need worried and protective Ani rn 🥺

Thank you Butterscotch 💞💝

Anakin x Reader Who Gets Hurt on a Mission Headcanons

Warnings: I mean talk of injuries but no in depth ones discussed. Mainly just protective and worried Anakin with some soft Ani thrown in there too because I physically think I’m incapable of not adding that.

Words: 1.3k

A/N: Yes my love of course!! I love worried and protective Ani <3 I know you said quick little headcanons but I fucking love protective!Anakin and the getting hurt on a mission thing is one of my favorite tropes lmao so this kinda took on a life of its own.

gif credit i really like this gif- like a lot-

Okay first off Anakin is already so protective. He hates that you’re in dangerous situations when you go on missions and he hates it when he can’t go with you. That being said, he knows you’re powerful and competent and he would never doubt your abilities as a Jedi.

Honestly, his protectiveness says far more about him than you. He’s not worried that you’re not strong enough; he’s worried he’s not strong enough. If you get hurt, he thinks he failed somehow.

As soon as he sees you get hit, he’s there in an instant. If it happens in the middle of a battle, getting you to safety is his main priority. He’ll scoop you up in his arms and get you out of there immediately.

If it’s more like someone hurts you directly, like a one-on-one thing, he’s going insane. Picture someone stabbing or hitting you to the point where you’re unconscious and bleeding on the floor. Anakin immediately flashes back to losing his mother, to when he wasn’t able to save someone he loved.

He will kill them if they’re still a threat to you. If not, it’s not like he’s letting them just walk away. He’s infuriated. He first steps in front of your body, shielding you from them. And he’s livid, he’s glaring at them and anyone could tell he’ll fight to the death for you.

His lightsaber ignites, illuminating his enraged expression and they just know they fucked up.

Even so, you are his priority. Revenge never comes first when it’s between that and keeping you safe. His thought process is: deal with danger as quick as I can so I can go make sure they’re okay.

He runs up to you and, if you’re unconscious, he’s gently trying to coax you awake. He’ll whisper softly, all “Can you hear me?” “Open your eyes for me, baby.” “Please, Y/N, please let me see your gorgeous eyes.” “Come on, angel, let me know you’re okay”

His eyes are scanning your body, looking for any possible injuries that he needs to attend to.

Regardless of what the injuries are, he’s picking you up. He’s not letting you walk or put any pressure on any parts of your body.

He scoops you up as gently as he can and moves as evenly as he can while rushing you back to the ship, trying not to jostle you around too much.

If you whimper or hiss in pain from the movements, he looks at you so apologetically and whispers an “I’m so sorry, just a little longer, okay?”

And you’ll nod at him with tears in your eyes and it just makes his heart ache. He hates knowing you’re in pain and that he wasn’t able to stop it or take it away.

When he gets you back to the ship, he’ll lay you down and try to attend to your injuries as best he can. He’ll grab some gauze and bandages and wrap your wounds, desperate to stop the blood loss. If there aren’t any supplies, he’ll just rip parts of his shirt off to use as bandages. After he did that once you secretly hope they forget the supplies again because-

After he finishes that, you’re normally really cold and exhausted from the blood loss. He wraps you up in all the blankets they might have and pulls his Jedi robe off and puts it around you, too. He knows it brings you comfort and, honestly, it’s really fucking warm.

He talks to you to try and keep you awake. He’ll tell you stories and although he tries to be strong for you, you can hear his voice shake and his words become faster, sure signs that he’s fucking terrified.

That’s honestly what gets you to stay awake, more than anything else. You don’t want him to panic. You’ll try to hold his hands, if your injuries allow, and constantly move your thumb against the back of his hand as he does the same to you. The constant movement reminds him you’re alive and conscious and okay.

As soon as you land on Coruscant, he immediately brings you to medbay. He doesn’t care, you can complain about how much you don’t want to and how you’re fine all you want, he won’t hear it. He got a little upset once because you were desperate and said “please, Ani, please don’t make me go. I just want to go back to our bed and have you hold me. That’s the only thing that could make me feel better right now.”

He was upset because he hates turning you down, especially when you ask like that. The only time he’ll turn you down is if he’s trying to keep you safe.

He tries to force them to let him stay with you as they run diagnostics, literally yelling out and attempting every trick in the book. Even so, it doesn’t work. They calmly tell him to go sit in the waiting room and they’ll get him when the tests are finished.

He watches them take you away and he paces in the room, chewing on his fingernails and running his hands through his hair in worry. He normally somehow ends up finding his way into a chair and he ends up breaking down. He’ll have his head in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks as he prays to the Maker that you’ll be alright. He’d do anything, so long as you’re alright.

When they finally call him back, saying your tests are done he’ll run back into the room. You see his disheveled appearance and bloodshot eyes and you immediately reassure him that you’re going to be okay.

As soon as he can take you home, back into his arms you go. Once again, you’re not walking, so don’t even try it. Further, he just wants to hold you. You normally kind of turn your head into his chest, embarrassed that he has to carry you through the Temple where anyone can see you in this weakened state.

Meanwhile, Anakin is staring daggers at anyone who even attempts to look in your direction. His arms tighten around you, keeping you close and you’ve honestly never felt safer.

He gets you back to the apartment and gently places you on the bed. He looks you over again, just making sure they didn’t miss any of your injuries before he pulls the covers up and comes next to you.

He’ll get you some water and a bit of food, wanting you to get something in your system to help replenish your body. He stays with you the whole time, making sure you eat and drink at least a little bit.

Even though the medical droids helped, you’re still in pain and he tries to help in whatever way he can. He can see your eyes screwing up as you try to move and get comfortable in bed and he’s just “I know it hurts, baby. I’m so sorry, here, let me help you, okay?” “What can I do to make it better”

He helps you get settled, pulling you with him in his strong arms until you find a position that allows you to sleep.

Sometimes you’re shaken up from getting hurt. You’ll tell him how afraid you are or, more frequently, he just knows. He tells you “You’re safe now, my love.” “No one’s going to hurt you ever again.” “It’s okay, I took care of them, it’s okay.” “Look at me, angel. They’re gone, alright? It’s just you and me, right here, safe.”

As you drift off, he reminds you how much he loves you and you say it back. He’s always the big spoon on those nights. He puts himself closest to the door, shielding your body with his.

Nights after you get hurt are always very special. He holds you to him as tightly as he can, granted this is mostly dependent on your injuries. And you just love it. You feel safe and he feels like he can keep you like that.

Basically, if you get hurt on a mission, Anakin’s got you. And an enemy has to be pretty stupid to try and hurt you. Not only are you exceptionally badass, but if they somehow get to you, Anakin will hunt them to the ends of the galaxy to ensure they never harm you again.

----

the link to join my taglist is in my pinned! if you would like to be taken off/edit your response in any way please dm me or shoot me an ask <3

general tags:

@saltybreaddream @buckysbeloved @lolquarth @sodaoverstars @artiza-n

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles @serpntines @anakinlove @rowley-with-ackerman @dexthtoyounglings @babykinskywalker @cluelessgurl @april-showers-and-flowers @ungodiys @beiroviski @mystic-writings @thejediuniverse

#megan writes #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin x reader #anakin imagines #anakin x you #anakin x y/n #protective anakin #worried anakin #anakin skywalker x gn!reader #anakin skywalker x gender neutral reader #anakin x gn!reader #anakin x gender neutral reader #anakin fluff #anakin angst #anakin comfort angst

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thisbeatchachinglikemoney · 4 years ago

Text

Moonlight

Part 1 of the Boys with Luv series

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (eventual), Yoongi x BTS, dom!Yoongi x sub!Taehyung x sub!Jungkook

Summary: One night when Yoongi is out for a moonlit stroll, he finds a girl dancing in the park all alone. When he approaches her, his whole life changes forever.

Warnings: There is some mention of mental and physical abuse in this chapter, as well as some a theme of depression and mention of self-harm.

Tags:@calling-dips-on-j-hope, @fic-recs-by-moon, @luvtaeha, @aretha170, @xicanacorpse, @kookieebangtan, @fangirl125reader, @seoul9711, @channiespup, @lindsayjoy444

Part 1 | Part 2

Y/N POV:

He was drunk. Again. This time it was worse than the others though. The other times he was drunk enough that he was tired and could not stay awake long enough to actually hurt me anymore than a couple of hits poorly aimed and a handful of harmful words thrown at me. But it was enough for me to fall further into a deep, black void that seemed to have no way out. It was inescapable. I could hear him banging and shouting to himself downstairs. I was in our room, pretending to be asleep. I rarely slept when he was around, scared of what he would do to me when I was unaware.

That was why I slept while he was out during the day, and then would sneak out at night once I knew he was sleeping. I would go to a park nearby and just sit there and collect my thoughts. Sometimes I would let myself taste the sweet release that I got when I danced, but that was very rare. He banned me from dancing, saying it was like I was cheating on him by showing off my body to other people. And of course, I believed him.

I guess the only good thing was that he wasn’t my soulmate. Everything was still black and white and all the shades of grey in between for me. But I just couldn’t find the courage in myself to get help to leave him. When I was in the park, I loved to listen to BTS to help myself find the courage to get through the next day. Just enough that I would want to survive. But that didn’t stop the want to die from slipping through some cracks. Small scars littered my wrists. They all looked almost silver to me, but I knew that if I could see colour, they would be red. The colour of blood.

He laughed when he found out. Said I deserved it. Said I should do it more and maybe, just maybe, if I was lucky I would cut deep enough to end it.

I could hear his footsteps thumping up the stairs now. I gulped and nestled under the blankets, trying to even out my breathing and slow it down to give the impression I was asleep. I almost flinched when I heard the door open, but I managed to stay still.

“I know you’re awake.” He said, his voice dangerously calm. His footsteps grew louder until I could feel his breath fan over me. It stunk of cheap whisky and other alcohol. He scoffed. “Of course you’d ignore me. Stupid bitch!” He slapped me across the face, causing me to jolt forward and gasp in pain as red hot sparks shot across my face. I curled into a ball, protecting my face with my arms. “Worthless, good for nothing slut.” He pulled me off the bed and kicked me in the stomach, making me cry out in pain. I began to back away from him, pushing myself along the floor with my hands and feet as he walked towards me.

My heart was pounding in my chest, my breathing erratic. I was scared. He could kill me. He lifted his foot as if he was going to stamp on my outstretched leg, but I rolled away just in time, earning myself a kick to the side. I whimpered and stumbled to my feet. I looked around for something, anything I could use as a weapon, as something to defend myself. My eyes zeroed in on a lamp. It was a gift from my mother; a metal base that had little knots of the material jutting out from the sides. I knew it was heavy. I knew that it could possibly knock him out.

I ran over to it and picked it up, yanking the plug out of the socket. He walked closer to me, scoffing. “You think you can hurt me with that?” He chuckled. “Sweet,” He began to undo the buckle of his belt and was about to pull it from its confines when I swung at him with the lamp. It was as if the gods were looking down upon me when the metal end connected with his head, knocking him out cold.

I stared down at his unconscious body, breathing quickly. I tried to calm myself down as I grabbed my phone and shoes, quickly disabling my location services. I had to leave him. Next time, I may not be so lucky. I looked around and stuffed some clothes into a backpack, grabbed a charger and my toothbrush and ran out of the house.

I didn’t have a car. He never let me, since he was under the impression that I could get away with it. Guess he forgot I had two legs and could walk. I shivered slightly, wrapping my arms around myself in an attempt to warm me up. I was only wearing a light hoodie, not realising how cold it was.

But I’d be fine. I could just huddle up underneath some of my clothes - use them as a blanket. I didn’t have any friends I could go to - he had made me get rid of them as well. I suppose it was safer for them; he could have threatened to hurt them to get me to do anything. I looked up at the sky, seeing the moon glowing a bright white light, the beauty of it making me feel calm. The moon was full and round, the streets being illuminated by the moonlight as I made my way to the little park that was my safespace.

Yoongi POV:

“No, no, no, no!” I groaned as my computer froze, the coloured pinwheel spinning around as if to mock me. I slammed my hand down on the desk in frustration, knowing that there was a good chance that all my hours of hard work on this song would be deleted.

I pushed my chair back harshly and got up, kicking at the chair in annoyance. “Stupid thing. Can’t even work properly.” I glanced at the screen, letting a small sliver of hope through, hoping that the work had been saved and that it was still there, almost at the point of completion. My heart sunk, the screen was black. There goes eight hours or more of hard work for nothing.

I picked up my phone to check the time. It was almost midnight. There was a miriad of texts from my hyung and dongsaengs, urging me to come eat. Hobi had said he had come to get me but I clearly didn’t or wouldn’t hear him so he left. There was food for me in the fridge and Jungkook was waiting up for me. Of course he was, the boy could not sleep without knowing that everyone was in the dorm.

All seven of us were in a relationship with each other, yet we were not soulmates since it was not allowed between people of the same sex. Stupid homophobic system. But if Kookie was waiting for me, I guess I should stop working now. The boy would force himself to stay awake, which would make him grumpy the next morning. Sometimes he acts like a baby, but who can blame him? He is the maknae after all.

My phone dinged, signalling a text for Taehyung.

Tae ❤️:

Hyung, when are you coming backkkkk? The bed is empty and I’m colddddddd. Pleaseeeee hurryyyyyyyyy

I love youuuuuu

But hurryyyyyyy

I shook my head and chuckled at Taehyung’s cuteness. I decided I would not text him back, but rather call him as I collected my stuff. I clicked on his contact name and put the phone against my ear as I shut off the computer and walked out of Genius Lab, locking the door behind me.

“Hyung! When are you coming back?!” Tae asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

“Tae, baby. I am on my way, okay? I’m just a bit stressed though, so I may have to have even more cuddles.” I said. Even though I never showed it, I loved having and giving hugs to the members. But only behind closed doors. I could never do it in front of the cameras. It would ruin my bad boy persona.

“Cuddles!” Tae gasped. “Yay. Hurry, please, hyung.” He pleaded, dragging out the end of the ‘please’, making me chuckle.

“I’m just getting in the car now baby boy. I’ll be back soon. Give me five minutes.” I said as I unlocked my car and got in, throwing my stuff over to the passenger seat.

“Okay, hyung.” Tae said, smiling. I could hear it in his voice. “Oh, and hyung?”

“Yes baby?” I said as I set the phone in its holder and put it on speaker so I could start driving.

“I have a surprise for you.” He sang, giggling after. “I think you’ll like it a lot.”

“Oh, I look forward to it, baby.” I said as I reached a traffic light that was just outside the building. As I looked around, I caught a glimpse of lace stuffed by the seat. I frowned and reached over, pulling at it to get a closer look at what it was. I smiled and shook my head as I realised that it was a pair of Tae’s panties. He had obviously hidden them in here, seeing how they were strategically concealed.

Wearing lingerie was something Tae loved to do. He wore it all the time, not that any of us complained. He looked so cute, but so beautiful and breathtaking at the same time. My personal favourite was when he wore one of my oversized shirts with a pair of panties underneath, the lace framing his ass perfectly. Tae was the subbiest out of all of us, with Jimin and Jungkook a close second. Jin would sometimes sub and sometimes dom, but me, Joon and Hobi were the doms. I wondered if this is what his surprise would be.

“Oh, baby, I have something of yours.” I said.

“What is it?” Tae asked curiously. I could hear the duvet covers moving around as he shuffled on our bed. Each of us shared a room. It was me and Tae, Jimin and Hobi, and Joon, Jin and Kookie. Some nights, there would be more of us sleeping together, and some nights we would all sleep with each other. That was usually if one of us was really stressed or really upset and needed comfort from everyone. I wouldn’t need that tonight. I knew Tae would be able to cuddle away all my worries. I would be able to make it up tomorrow. I could get one of the others to help me.

“I’ll let you guess, baby. It was in my car and they are lacy.” I hinted. I heard him swallow before he took a deep breath.

“Am I in trouble?” Tae asked, his voice a lot quieter. “I’m sorry, I put them in there as a just in case, you know how you like to rip them off me.” He added quickly.

“I’m not angry at you baby boy.” I said, keeping my voice calm. “It was a nice surprise.”

“It was?” I could hear the smirk in Tae’s voice. “Then you’re going to like what I have for you here in bed... Master...”

As soon as he said this, I felt what could have been all my blood rush to my dick. “I’m almost home, baby.” I said, clearing my throat and palming myself to relieve the feeling I had. I let out quiet and breathy moan.

“Are you touching yourself, master?” Tae asked. “Are you getting your big cock nice and hard for me?”

“I want you ready for me when I get in, puppy.” I said as I pulled the car into the driveway of the apartment complex where our dorm was.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Master.” Tae said excitedly, ending the call.

I turned off the engine of the car and sat there for a few moments, trying to calm myself down slightly. I would give him a slight punishment - he knew not to leave things in the car, no matter how arousing it would be for me, and he had also teased me slightly.

I walked into the house and spied Jungkook sat on the sofa, mindlessly flicking through the channels on the TV. So, he had waited up for me. Might as well if he wants to join in the fun with me and Tae.

“Kookie, baby.” I said, walking over to squat down in front of him. As I came into his line of vision, a bunny smile formed on his face.

“Hyungie, you’re back.” Jungkook flung his arms around my neck and kissed my cheek.

“Hey, bunny.” I stroked his hair and turned my head to kiss his lips gently. “Baby, TaeTae and I are going to be having some fun in a second. Do you want to join us?”

Jungkook looked at me, his chocolate eyes sparkling. He hummed in agreement and nodded his head. “Bunny wants to help please Master and TaeTae.” He said, instantly slipping into his subspace.

“Okay, bunny.” I said, standing up with him still wrapped around my neck. He whined when I tried to push him off so I could walk upstairs. “Do you want me to carry you?” My cute little bunny nodded eagerly, so I picked him up and carried him towards mine and Tae’s bedroom. “Alright, bunny, let’s go say hi to TaeTae. Master has to punish him a bit though, first. You can go freshen up first if you want.” I suggested.

Jungkook nodded before leaning forward to kiss me. I reached down and squeezed him through his sweatpants, causing him to let out a shaky whine. “Master, please.”

“Go freshen up baby. When you’re done you can come straight in.” I said, setting him on his way with a pat to his bum.

I pushed open the door to Tae’s room and saw him kneeling on the bed. But what really took my breath away was what he was wearing. It was a lace bodysuit that had bows decorating it. I couldn’t see his ass, but I already knew that there would be nothing covering it. There were small bows fastened to the tops of his thighs, holding the bodysuit in place. To top it all off he had a collar fastened around his neck.

“Fuck, puppy. Look at you. So beautiful for me.” I said, walking over to him and tracing his lips with my finger. “I believe these belong to you.” I pulled the lace out of my pocket and tossed it at him. He caught it with one hand and smirked at me.

“Did you like your surprise, master?” He asked coyly, looking up at me. I moved my hand to hold his face in place, cupping his chin.

“I love it, puppy, but you know the rules. You don’t leave things in my car, do you?”

“No, master.” Tae looked down in shame. “‘M sorry. I just wanted it to be there as a backup.”

“Puppy, do you wanna know why I rip them off you?” I asked, kneeling down in front of him. He tilted his head at me in confusion. “Because I love the idea that you are wearing nothing beneath your clothes and that if you have one slip up, you would be exposed.” I trailed my finger down his chest and circled it around his tip.

“Master, please.” He begged. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. It was a mistake.” I could see that he was almost fully hard, his cock was straining against the fabric of his bodysuit.

“You wanna make it up to me? Turn over and on my knee.” I ordered, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, master.” Tae leant across my lap, his stomach resting on my knees. I smirked when I saw his exposed ass, all round and ready for me.

“Now, puppy. Kookie will be joining us soon, so we’d better make your initial punishment quick.” I said, kneading the globes of his ass. It wasn’t as big as Jimin’s, but Tae definitely had a beautiful ass. “How many do you think you deserve, pup?”

“At least 20, master. I was naughty.” Tae almost moaned out.

“Yes you were, puppy. Very naughty. You also teased master when he was coming home.” I sighed. “But, I guess my puppy likes being punished, doesn’t he?” Tae was silent. I smacked his ass hard, causing the flesh to jiggle. “Doesn’t he?” I repeated.

“Yes, master.” He said after he had yelped. I could feel how hard he was pressing against my thigh.

“I think I may give you 25, how does that sound?”

“Good, master.”

“And after each one, you thank me. You need to learn to obey, don’t you puppy?”

“Yes, master. I do.”

“Count, dumb pup.” I began to slap his ass. Each time he counted and thanked me. At 25, he was sobbing in pain and pleasure, rutting against my thigh. I pulled him up so he was straddling my lap. “Such a good boy, taking your punishment so well.” I praised him, making him smile at me lazily. “So I think my puppy deserves a reward?” Tae nodded excitedly so I pushed him down so he was kneeling on the floor.

I stroked his hair out of his face. “I want you to suck me off, pup.” I said, tugging on his hair gently. His hair was always curly and floppy, always soft to the touch. I stroked my fingers through it lazily as he played with the zipper on my pants, before tugging at them to pull them down. I quickly stood up and allowed him to pull them down with my boxers before I sat back down.

His eyes widened when I came into his eyeline, his mouth instantly watering. His hand cautiously reached out and wrapped around me, giving me a few strokes. I inhaled sharply and hissed at the feeling of his calloused palm wrapped around me. “No hands, baby. Just your mouth.” I said after a few seconds, batting his hand away.

He set his hands on my thighs and sat up a bit so he was level with my dick. His mouth opened eagerly and before I knew it, the tip of my dick was engulfed in his warm, wet mouth. I tilted my head back and groaned, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging, earning some quiet moans from my puppy.

I looked down and saw his big eyes staring up at me as his mouth took more of me in. “Fuck, you look so pretty baby.” I cooed, tracing his lips that were stretched around me. “All stuffed full of my cock. I know you can take more though.” I gently pushed at his head, making him take more of me in until my tip hit the back of his throat. He gagged slightly as tears sprung from his eyes. “Now, you can stay just like that until Jungkook comes and then your real punishment can begin, hmm?”

Taehyung nodded, choking on my dick as it went further down his throat. “Careful pup. Don’t hurt yourself.” I said, wiping away the tears that were trailing down his face from the intrusion in his throat. He always looked so beautiful like this.

After a couple of minutes, Jungkook came into the room, his mouth opening slightly as he took in the sight in front of him. “Hey bunny.” I said, beckoning him over. “Doesn’t TaeTae look so pretty?”

“TaeTae always looks so pretty, master.” Jungkook said, his voice barely a whisper.

I took Jungkook’s hand and pulled him on the bed as I pushed Tae off of me. “Okay, here’s what is going to happen. Tae, puppy, you are going to sit on the other side of the bed and watch as I play with Koo until I decide that you can join us.” Taehyung nodded and scrambled to the other side of the bed, his cock hanging heavily between his legs, begging for release. It was a dark colour, signalling how desperate he was for release, but I wasn’t going to let him have it. Not yet. He got himself comfortable and was about to start stroking himself when I added the next part. “And no touching yourself, pup.”

Tae’s bottom lip started to wobble slightly. “Oh, please, master. Please. I need to cum so bad.”

I looked at him and smiled as I helped Kookie undress. “No, dumb pup. You’ve been naughty. You need to prove that you deserve it.”

Tae looked like he had been slapped. “O-Okay, master. I’ll be good.” He said, trapping his hands between his thighs and the mattress. Once I was sure that he wasn’t going to disobey my orders, I turned my attention back to a now naked Jungkook.

“Look at my beautiful boy.” I smiled as I stroked my hand down his chest, feeling his abs, before travelling down to his thighs to squeeze them gently. It was known that Jungkook had a thigh kink. He would always have to have his hands on someone’s thighs, squeezing them and sometimes sucking at them if we were having fun with each other. “He has such big thighs.” I bent my head down to suck at them, causing a whiny moan to spill from his parted lips.

“Master, please.” He looked at me with his doe eyes shining.

“Please what, bunny? Do you want master to touch you here?” I traced my finger along his dick, earning a quiet groan from him. His dick was long and pretty, the mushroomed head a darker shade than the rest of it. It twitched as I traced the vein along it. I trailed my finger down to his ass. “Or here?” I circled his hole, earning a moan and a breathy yes from him.

I hooked his legs over my shoulders and wrapped my lips around his hole, stroking my tongue over his puckered hole, making him jolt forward slightly. “Ah, Master.” He moaned as I licked at him. He tasted musty and his shower gel and something that was distinctly Jungkook. I prodded at his hole with my tongue before pushing it into him, licking at his walls, coaxing high pitched whines and moans out of him. “Master, I’m so close.” Jungkook cried out, so I pulled away, leaving his hole shining with my saliva.

“Bunny, do you want me to stretch you out first, or can you take me?” I asked, as I kissed him, slipping my tongue into his mouth so he could taste himself on my tongue.

“I can take it, master.” Jungkook said eagerly. I nodded and kissed him again as I pushed my dick against his hole. The head pushed past the ring of muscle with some resistance until I was fully sheathed inside of him. “Ah,” Jungkook had his mouth open in pleasure, beautiful sounds spilling out of me as he adjusted to my size. “You’re so big master. You stretch me out so good. Feel so full.”

He was so warm, wrapped around me, and so tight. He was always tight no matter how often we fucked him, or with how many dicks he was fucked with at once. I moved my hips back before snapping them back in, causing the both of us to moan. Each thrust got faster and harder until Jungkook was a moaning mess, writhing around beneath me.

There was a whimper from next to us and I looked up to see Taehyung, watching us while tears poured down his face. “Yellow.” Tae hated to be left out when he was in his subspace. He always had to be doing something and not just watching. “Master, please.” He begged when he saw me watching him. “Please, I’m sorry. Just let me join in.”

I looked at Jungkook who had been watching me and him carefully. “Shall we let him join us?” I asked the boy underneath me. He nodded eagerly.

“I wan’ him to ride me.” Jungkook requested. “While you fuck me.”

“Okay, bunny.” I said, stroking his hair. I pulled out of him carefully to get Tae and comfort him. “Hey, puppy, you’re okay. You took your punishment so well. Master is so proud of you.” I said, hugging him tight. “Such a good boy.” I kissed his lips gently as I wiped away his tears. “Especially for telling me you didn’t feel comfortable anymore.”

“Thank you, master.” Taehyung smiled at me, his eyes still slightly teary. I reached down and pumped him a bit, smearing his precum around his dick.

“Look how wet you are, puppy.” I cooed as he crawled over to Jungkook. He leaned forward to kiss Jungkook. While he did this, I squirted some lube on my fingers and pushed two into him, making sure he was properly stretched out. I thrusted them into him for a bit before adding a third. Once I was sure he was ready, I nodded at him. “Go sit on Kookie’s cock baby.” I said. He lowered himself down slowly, causing both of them to moan loudly. Once Tae was fully seated, I pushed myself back into Kook, making him moan again. “How are you feeling, bun?”

“Feels s’ good.” Kookie said, looking kind of spaced. “Please, ‘m green.” I began to move inside him, making him grip onto Tae’s thighs and moan out loud. Tae began to bounce on his dick, moans coming out of his mouth. I reached around and started to stroke Tae’s dick in time to my thrusts inside Jungkook. Tae’s moans got louder and louder, signalling he was getting very close. I could feel my lower stomach tightening, signalling I was about to come.

“Master, I’m so close.” Jungkook whined, earning a noise of agreement from Tae.

“You can both come.” I allowed, stroking Tae even faster. He began to shake as Kookie began to buck up his hips due to how close he was. I knew Tae would come extra hard if I talked dirty to him, so I did. Jungkook was already close to cumming, but as soon as Tae came I would finish so I didn’t want him to be overstimulated by it all.

“Tae, puppy. Get off Kookie a second.” I said, tapping his bum which was now starting to bruise. Tae looked over his shoulder at me, looking as if he might cry. “You still get to come, puppy. I just wanna see you. Get back on Koo facing me.” I explained. Tae nodded and got off, turning himself around before lowering himself back down. I caught sight of his beautiful face, his mouth open and eyes squeezed shut as Jungkook’s cock split him open. “Now lie down so your back is against Koo’s stomach.” Tae obeyed and let him lie back. “Koo, bun, lift up his legs so I can see your dick going into his pretty hole.” Kook obeyed, wrapping his arms around Tae’s thighs and almost folding him in half. I almost came at the sight in front of me. Tae’s hole was so stretched around Jungkook’s cock, making it become slightly swollen.

I smirked at Tae before stroking around his hole and Kook’s dick with my thumb. “So pretty, puppy, letting bunny stretch you out like this. I bet you can’t wait for him to fill you with his cum, painting your insides white. Or maybe you’d like both of us in there. Imagine how it would feel, both of us splitting your pretty hole open, gaping you out so much all our cum would just come back out of you. Both of our cocks rubbing against your walls.” I reached out and began stroking his cock, seeing his face scrunch up and his body tense. He was right on the edge. “I bet it would make you come instantly. We’d have to maybe put a cock ring on you to stop you cumming too early. But you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, master. I’d love it.” Tae was breathless. “Oh, I’m so close.” He whined, letting his head tilt back on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“But we’d have to stretch out your little hole even more.” I smiled, pushing my thumb into his hole alongside Kook’s cock. Tae let out a scream, his body going still.

“You sound so pretty, TaeTae.” Kook said, stroking up and down his thighs. “Bet you’re so wrecked down there.” He reached down and pushed one of his fingers into Tae, next to mine. “Master, can we plug my cum inside him?” Kook asked.

“Of course we can bunny.” I said. “But we need this puppy to cum first.” I looked at Tae, whose body was jerking. “Aww, look at him. He’s going to come so hard.” I stroked him even faster before leaning down and taking his entire length into my mouth. I sucked hard, hollowing out my cheeks. Tae let out a silent scream as he came hard, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm.

I swallowed some of his cum, loving the salty tang of it before leaning over him to kiss Kook, transferring some to his mouth. Kook moaned at the taste, making Tae whine. Of course he wanted to have some. I moved to kiss Tae, transferring the last of it to his mouth. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“You’re such a cumslut, pup.” I chuckled, now starting to thrust hard into Kookie, chasing my own orgasm. Kookie’s breaths started coming out as short, high-pitched moans as his own orgasm drew nearer and nearer.

“I’m gonna cum, master.” Kookie warned as his hole clamped down on me, making me unable to move. The pulsing and constant contracting of his walls made me spill into him as he spilled into Tae. Both of us moaned as we released. I fell forward and leant my head on Tae’s stomach as I caught my breath.

“Both of you did so good.” I said as I carefully pulled out of Jungkook. “Koo, do you want a plug?” The boy nodded so I moved over to my bedside table and pulled out one of the four plugs I had in there. One for each sub. I walked back over to the pair who were still connected to each other. I pushed the trail of cum that had come out of Kookie back into him and pushed the plug into him.

“And me!” Tae exclaimed. I chuckled and got his out of the drawer.

“Alright, baby. Let’s get you off Koo, hmm?” I gently pulled him off Koo and pushed the plug into him. “How are you both feeling?” I asked, looking at both of them.

“Tired.” Tae replied.

“Good.” Jungkook replied at the same time. He had a sleepy smile plastered on his face.

“Okay, that’s good. Tae baby, you gotta stay awake for a bit longer. I need to clean you up, and put some lotion on you.” I said, gently stroking his hair as he looked at me with his eyes half shut.

He whined slightly, moving so he was sat on my lap. I could feel the plastic of the plug nestled between his ass cheeks pushing into my thigh. “Can I have a bath?” He asked, his head laying on my shoulder.

“Sure baby.” I said. “Do you and Koo want to have one together?” I looked at them both as they nodded their heads. “Alright babies.” I stroked Tae’s hair gently. “Let’s take these plugs out of you, okay?” Kook nodded and bent over slightly so I could pull it out of him. He hissed as his hole stretched around the bulbous plastic, followed by the dripping of my cum out of him. “Okay, KooKoo, why don’t you go and start the bath and I’ll get Tae ready.”

“Okay hyungie.” Jungkook pressed a quick kiss to my lips before padding into my adjoined bathroom and starting the bath.

“Okay, Taebaby, I need you to stand up.” I said softly to the sleepy boy on my lap.

He groaned and looked up at me, his eyes narrowed. “Why?” He asked.

“I need to take your plug out, love.” I said. “It’s going to hurt you later otherwise.” He opened his mouth to protest but I pressed a finger to his lips. “No buts baby, I’m taking it out.” I laid him down on the bed and gently pulled it out of him, allowing Jungkook’s cum to spill out of him.

“Want some.” Tae whispered, looking at me. I sighed and swiped some of the cum onto my fingers and let him suckle it off.

“Now, bath time.” I said, pulling him up so he was standing on his own two feet and leading him into the bathroom.

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A few hours later, we were all cuddled up in bed. I had had trouble falling asleep - the stress from losing all my work was still looming in the back of my mind. I had told my manager, but he must have been asleep when I sent the message.

Tae hummed in his sleep as he curled into my side even more, Jungkook spooning him from behind. They both looked peaceful as they slept, not a hint of worry on their perfect faces.

My phone began to buzz, cutting through the silent atmosphere like a hot knife through butter. I unwrapped Tae from around myself and sat up answering the phone. “Hello?” I asked in a hushed voice as I disentangled myself from the blankets.

“Yoongi-ah? I need those tracks by 8am in the morning. You’re going to have to keep working on them.” My manager said, sounding quite annoyed. My heart began beating faster as I felt the stress and anxiety begin to build back up inside of me. “You should have stayed later and fixed your mistake.” I slipped out of the room and closed the door.

“My mistake?!” I was pissed. It was not my fault that the systems crashed and deleted everything. Do I control all the computers at the company? No! If anything they should be badgering IT to see if they can recover some of the files. “The computers crashed as I went to save it. Can’t IT recover them? That is eight hours of work lost!”

“No they can’t. That’s why I’m calling. I need you to come in right now and try to redo them the same.” He requested. “I’m sorry about this, but I just need those otherwise you will miss the deadline and your mixtape will have to be delayed further.”

“I think we need to get better computers. Those ones are getting kind of old and slow.” I said.

“Don’t blame the machinery Yoongi-ssi.” He said shortly. “Come in now or no mixtape this year. And you wouldn’t want to disappoint ARMY, would you?”

I scoffed. Now he’s guilt-tripping me. “I’ll be in in about half an hour. Let me get changed and get my stuff together.” I said.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting.” He hung up the phone and I let out a noise of frustration before going back into the room, closing the door as quietly as I could so I wouldn’t wake up the sleeping babies. I looked over at the bed and let a fond smile ghost over my face. Taehyung’s hair had now flopped in front of his face and his arms were outstretched to the spot where I had previously been sleeping.

I felt bad for leaving them alone, but I really didn’t have a choice. I walked into my wardrobe and pulled out a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants and quickly changed into them. I pulled on a beanie and grabbed my lyric books before grabbing a pair of shoes and sliding them on.

I must have been a bit too loud because there was rustling in the bed and I saw Taehyung patting around with his hand. He sat up and squinted at me sleepily. “Hyungie? Where you goin’?” His voice was heavy with sleep. “What time is it?”

“It’s early, love. Go back to sleep. I need to go in to the studio.” I said, walking over to him to kiss him goodbye. “Come on lie back down.”

“But you were there all day yesterday.” He complained, whining slightly.

“I know, baby, I know. But all my work got deleted so I need to go back in to redo it.” I said. “And if I don’t meet the deadline then my mixtape will get pushed back even further and that wouldn’t be fair to ARMY.”

“But these songs aren’t even for your mixtape! They’re blackmailing you!” Taehyung exclaimed. “I wanna come with you.”

“Baby, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” I said, pushing his hair back out of his face.

“No it is! I could help you, and you always say two brains are better than one. We can get it done faster.” He argued, sounding determined. “And we can tell Kookie so he won’t get confused when he wakes up. We can leave him a note. Pleaseeeeee.”

I sighed. “Okay, fine. But get dressed quickly.”

Y/N POV:

I shivered under some of the clothes as I lay on the bench. I was too scared to sleep. He could appear at any moment and drag me home to give me the beating of a lifetime, and this time he could actually kill me.

Every time I heard footsteps I would freeze and not move, hoping that it wasn’t him, and that if it was, he wouldn’t see me. It was getting colder though, and I knew I would have to move in order to keep myself from getting hypothermia.

I knew there was one thing that would be able to calm me down, and it would also keep me warm. I rifled through my pockets, trying to locate my headphones. My fingers wrapped around the wire and pulled it out. I groaned. They were all tangled and knotted. I began to pick them apart, finally freeing the individual earbuds. I plugged it into my phone and scrolled through my music until I picked a song that I wanted to dance to. Spring Day. It cheered me up a lot, and I loved the dance.

The notes flowed through my body, twisting and turning to the tips of my fingers and the ends of my toes. My body moved like the waves in this ocean of music, bending and stretching at the crests and troughs. I loved it. As I danced, I allowed my thoughts to

I had started dance when I was three. My mother had insisted that I was going to be a prima ballerina, or a professional dancer in a company, so she had me enrolled in any kind of dance you could think of. Baby ballet, baby tap, baby jazz, baby contemporary, baby street dance, baby modern, baby music theatre. Most of my life was spent dancing. As I got older, she put me into singing, art and drama classes. I dropped some of the dance classes: tap, modern and jazz. I was happy.

Then came the arguments. My mother and father started arguing over the amount of money that was being spent on me. We were quite a well-off family, both of my parents has respectable jobs with a decent salary. Income was good, and there was even some wiggle room for nice holidays. That was, until my dad became addicted to alcohol and spent all of our savings on the drink until there was barely anything left.

My mother had to put some away secretly just to be able to pay for bills and my extra curriculars. But he found out, and that’s when the arguments started. I was eight at the time. He would accuse her of not trusting him, and she would accuse him of being an alcoholic and how that wasn’t a good environment for me to be in.

The arguing would last for at least three hours each night and would end with one of them storming out the house. Most nights it was my father - probably to get even more drunk. My mother would slam the door to their bedroom and dissolve into tears. I would hear her sobbing herself to sleep, but I was too scared to comfort her.

One day, after a year or so, my father stormed out that door and never came back. My mother said it was for the best; in my mind, though, it was my fault. I was the one who had all the dance lessons and singing lessons and drama lessons and art lessons. I was the one who was using all their money. He liked to tell me that when my mother would storm out. He also liked to hit me. When my mother found the bruises and cuts, she lost it. That was what caused the arguments to get worse.

Things got better after he left. My mother got happier, found a new boyfriend. He was nice, buying me the latest iPhone or laptop. We were all happy.

And then I met him. He was the perfect boyfriend: kind, loving, everything you would want. But that’s the thing about love. It’s blind. It would be a few months before I realised who he was behind the mask he put on everyday. I should have realised that the relationship was moving too quickly. He asked me to move in with him after we had been together for just three months. As soon as I set foot inside that house, the door locked behind me, and the key hidden somewhere I could never find it.

After a couple of weeks, the verbal abuse started. The name calling and insults and threats over something unimportant, like slightly burnt potatoes. I brushed it off as something normal. After all, it was my fault. I was the one who turned the oven up too high.

Then came the physical abuse. At first it started off as slaps and small beatings, but it eventually lead up to him getting out his belt and whacking it across my face every night before beating me up with his fists. I don’t know what exactly caused him to do it. Sometimes he said it was me looking at another man, and other times it was just because of my presence. Either way, it was my fault and I deserved them.

I tried to leave him. But he caught me, and I almost ended up in hospital from the force of his beating. My skin was mottled blue and purple for weeks. It was then I started self-harming. It was my fault.

I twirled as the song came to an end, catching sight of a figure standing in the shadow of the trees. My breath hitched in my throat. Had he found me? If he had, he was going to kill me for sure.

Yoongi POV:

Just as I had thought Tae had fallen asleep on my couch, bundled up in my hoodie about an hour after we arrived at the studio. We had already retrieved the majority of the songs though.

He had got to work immediately, perching on my lap as he sang the demo song over the backing music, which thankfully I had saved. I loved Taehyung’s voice - it was deep and sultry, which was actually something that contrasted greatly to his personality he showed in private. After we’d been working for about fifty minutes, he began to yawn, curling up and leaning against my shoulder, watching me put together the backing tracks and the vocals and moving things around to create the songs. His favourite was ‘Black Swan’.

“‘M sleepy, hyungie.” He mumbled against my collarbone.

I reached up and stroked his hair gently. “You can go and sleep on the couch. I’m almost done, baby.” He looked up at me through sleepily squinted eyes.

“You sure? I think I can stay awake a bit longer?” He said, yawning again. When he yawned he sometimes looked like a baby puppy.

“No, baby, you’re tired.” I said, rubbing his back. “Go on, do you want my hoodie?” I asked.

“Mhm.” He nodded his head. He slid off my lap and made grabby hands at my hoodie. I pulled it off, leaving me in my white v-neck top, and handed it to him. He pulled it on and lay down on the couch, closing his eyes and almost instantly falling asleep. I smiled at him fondly before turning back to my work.

I only had one song left to do - my solo song on the album. I searched through my files, only to realise that my work on it had all disappeared. I groaned and saved everything before shutting my computer down. I needed to go for a quick walk to clear my head. I turned to look at Tae, who was curled on the couch in a deep sleep. The park I would go to to clear my head is only a five minute walk away from here. I would be thirty minutes tops. He wouldn’t wake up hopefully, and if he did, I was only a phone call away.

I grabbed my extra hoodie and pulled on my jacket, gently closing the door to my studio. I walked out of the building and made my way to the park.

It was cold outside. The air bit at my exposed cheeks and nose as I walked. I pulled a mask on to insulate them. The park was calming and whenever I went there, it was quiet and if there was anyone there, they were elderly and didn’t know who I was.

I walked through the gate of the park, pushing the squeaky barrier open. It appeared deserted, which wasn’t surprising considering that it was four am. But I still kept my guard up; you never know what crackheads will be around.

I was walking through the trees towards my favourite thinking bench when I saw her. She was dancing to some very familiar choreography. I stopped in my tracks. She was a beautiful dancer. I watched, awestruck as she flawlessly twirled and flipped and turned. It was then I recognised it. It was Jimin’s choreography in Spring Day. She must be a fan. She twirled one last time and stopped, facing me. Her face twisted into a look of terror as she ran to gather her things. On the bench I noticed, was a backpack and a pile of clothes.

“Wait!” I yelled after her, chasing her to talk to her. It was clear that something was troubling her, and I wanted to help her, not caring that she was an ARMY. “Let me help you! Please!” I caught up to her at the bench, where she had slightly calmed down. As soon as we made eye contact, something strange happened. All the greyscale colours in my world that I had grown used to melted away. My eyes were filled with dark greens and blues, clearly because of the darkness, but the moonlight shone down on her.

She was breath-taking. Her hair was a shiny, vibrant, Y/H/C, and her eyes shone like Y/E/C gems. She was holding her breath in surprise, probably recognising who I was.

“You’re Min Yoongi.” She said. “You’re my soulmate. This can’t be happening.” She was shocked and confused.

But I didn’t know what to do. Now that I had found my soulmate, did that mean I had to leave the others? We had never discussed the possibility of this happening. I looked at the girl in front of me and decided that I couldn’t leave her. Not like this. She looked scared, and from the looks of things, she was homeless. I had to look after her. And I swore to myself that I would. Until the end of time.

#angst #fluff #yoongi x reader #moonlight #soulmate au #bts poly #bts ot7 #lil meow meow yoongi #switch!jin #dom!yoongi #dom!namjoon #dom!hoseok #sub!taehyung #sub!jungkook #sub!jimin

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