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#I’ve been with this company for a few years and they won’t hire me full time because that would cost the price of paying me benefits
cinammonrollpetra · 3 months
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I hate the job market. Hire for 6 part time positions that 2 full time people could do. Refuse to hire full time because that means giving workers benefits. Fuck this capitalistic hellscape where corporations are too busy lining their pockets to allow me to get a job.
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billionairebabes · 1 year
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I'm Back!! Kinda...
I know it's been a while since I posted my own content or writing but I wrote this a few years back and never shared it but I know this would be helpful to a lot of you girlies now that the job market has once again taken a downturn. I originally wrote this after landing my first full-time job post-2020.
Like many, I graduated into a pandemic and found myself looking for my first job in the midst of a nationwide hiring freeze. The process was grueling but in failure, there are also many lessons learned and luckily, my search ended in success at one of the biggest tech companies in the world. In the past few years, I’ve worked at some of the biggest and best companies in the world making it past several rounds of interviews, impressing my future colleagues, managers, and even VPs so it’s safe to say I know a thing or two about landing a job. Here goes!
B's Guide to Landing Your DREAM JOB PART 1!
If you’re still in college there are a few things I would suggest a few things. 
Start interning as soon as possible. The sooner you start practicing interviewing at companies you’re interested in, the better. Also, a few internships on your resume prior to your graduation will help A LOT. Trust me. You’ll have experiences to speak about in all those behavioral interviews as well. 
Become friendly with the professors in your field. They can become a good reference for you later. Even if only one to three times a semester go to your professor’s office and chat. They can also put in a good word for you for programs. This brings me to my next point. 
In most industries, there are conferences each year that either offer discounts (or free tickets) to college students and/or are directly aimed at college students. If you’re a POC, find programs aimed at diversifying that industry. These conferences often have recruiting opportunities with large companies and most times the interview process won’t be as rigorous compared to an applicant who may have applied online. I would recommend compiling a list at the beginning of each school year with these program names as well as their application due dates. 
Don’t join clubs just to have them on your resume. Aim for leadership roles or redirect your time to other personal projects that interest you. It’ll make for a better conversation with your recruiters and hiring managers to say “I built XYZ because I was interested in ABC” rather than “I was just a member of that club and went to the meetings once a month.” 
This varies across industries but for the most part, your GPA isn’t all that important especially after you land your first job after college so breathe. 
Perfect your resume and this part couldn’t be more critical. In the age of ATS (Applicant Tracking Systems) and fierce competition, it’s become vital that your resume can stand out and communicate very clearly how you’re qualified for the job. Here are my resume tips: 
My favorite program to create resumes on is Canva. They have a ton of great templates and are super customizable and not to mention, it’s FREE. 
Use quantifiable measurements to show your results if possible. 
Use action verbs at the beginning of your bullet points. Personally, I believe each description should have at least 3-4 bullet points but never only 1. Here are some of the words on my resume: Constructed, Spearheaded, Managed, Collaborated, and Lead. All of your descriptions should state what you did, how you did it (programs used, methods, etc.), and the outcome.  
I personally think every resume should include your: Experience, Skills, Leadership/ Professional Development (for college students this could mean conferences attended, programs, boot camps, etc.), Projects (shows independence and initiative), Contact, and Education. Make sure your LinkedIn is included in your ‘Contact’ section. You should have a personalized LinkedIn link, that’s free. 
Your LinkedIn needs to be at 100% completion. This is a place where you can really show off because there are no space limits. This can showcase every job or internship you’ve ever had, every program or project you’ve had an impact on, etc. The better your LinkedIn, the better chance you have a recruiter finding you and inviting you to interview for a role they think would be a good fit. 
Your profile picture ideally is a professional one but if not possibly find time to take one in natural daylight with a quality camera and a plain background. I’ve also seen people using AI to now turn regular pics into professional ones. 
Interact with posts, comment, and share. This will help get your name and profile circulating. 
Announce that you’re looking for a job to your network. Include your resume and what you’re looking for in that post. You never know who might see it. 
Grow your network and the easiest place to start is with people you’ve gone to school with and current or previous coworkers. 
Put your resume on your LinkedIn profile (You can do this by attaching a media file) 
Know your elevator pitch and know it well because every single person you interview with will probably ask you this. My elevator pitch sounds something like this: 
I’m Britt and in  June, I graduated from Icy University with a degree in Math and a minor in Sociology. Throughout college, I completed a number of internships doing _______ and have developed skills in _______. When I was a senior I learned about (or developed an interest in) _____  and did _____ to grow my skills or learn more about it. Now that I’ve graduated I’m looking for a role in ______ where I can continue to ______. (My elevator pitch is now different now that I’ve had two full-time roles but you get the point)
Now we apply. 
LinkedIn is your friend here and my favorite job posting platform. Set up Job Alerts for companies you’re interested in so that you have a better chance of being an early applicant. 
As annoying as this is, you will have to edit your resume for almost every position you apply to. Use the words they use to describe your roles in your work history and remember to always save your resume as a PDF. This definitely will help you get past the ATS system. Remember to adjust the words used in your ‘Skills’ section too but don’t lie. These days, many companies with decent salaries are giving applicants take-home assignments. This applies to your cover letters as well. (I no longer write cover letters though, no one reads them).  I saved every version of my cover letter and could eventually just mix and match paragraphs according to the type of job I was applying to. Of course, you will still have to change some words to best match the position’s job posting. 
The LinkedIn stalking begins. Find someone at the company you’ve applied for and invite them to connect but ALWAYS include a note.  In this note, you will give a very brief introduction and your reason for messaging. Mine usually looked something like this: Hi ___, I’m Britt and I recently applied for the ____ position. I’d love to learn more about the department, the team, and the company. Would you have 15 minutes to chat sometime this week or next? Thanks in advance, Britt. 
My tip is that you find a manager on the team rather than a recruiter for the company. I find that they never accept invitations but managers usually will. 
On this call, you’ll discuss exactly what you mentioned in your opening note, and remember to have prepared questions for them. If you make a good impression, most managers will be willing to forward your resume to the recruiting team. 
Let me know if you all want a part 2 on how I prepare for my interviews. I’d say I have an interview success rate of about 90% in the past 2 years! 
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doraminatook · 3 months
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Five things this barista wants you to know (and do)
This June marked nine years of working for Starbucks.  As someone who didn’t think that they’d last a week there, I honestly consider this a massive achievement.  I have learned so much about myself since becoming a partner, especially in regards to what I’m capable of and how to handle conflicts.  This journey has had its ups and downs, but all in all, Starbucks has treated me very well. As with any corporation, the biggest issues arise from people higher on the pay scale not understanding how things “at the bottom” work.  I like to picture some big corporate suit walking into one of our stores and asking a barista, “What can we, as a company, do to help you?” The barista replies, “We need more people on the floor.  Can we hire more people and ​have more labor hours?” Nodding and scratching their chin, the suit says, “What I’m hearing is you want us to update the sequencing of drinks so you now make three at a time rather than two and you want a free reusable cup.”   The barista stares blankly at them and asserts, “That is not at all what I said.”   But it’s too late; corporate has already thrown thousands of dollars at some lackey who is going to study the partners efficiency and see how they can make their employees do more with less.  The gifted cup will come with stickers!  Won’t that be fun?! While my time with the siren is about to end, I have picked up a few tips along the way.  Not tips for the employees, mind you.  No, these are tips for you…the consumer.   I would say that ninety percent of the people who have come into one of my stores have been lovely and friendly individuals, but – ooh-weee!! – that remaining ten percent (especially at drive-thru stores.  This is not to shame drive-thru stores or people to use them.  Drive-thru stores are amazing for people with small children, social anxiety, certain mobility needs, etc.  But there’s a certain kind of crazy that doesn’t want to get out of its car to get its coffee.  And it’s usually the kind of crazy that insults the employees or throws hot drinks at them.) To help steer people away from joining that ten percent group, I’ve created this simple list of things everyone can do to help their baristas out and make the process go a little smoother.  Yes, this is taken from the standpoint of Starbucks, but many of these points apply to any coffee shop.  Let’s begin!
Give yourself more time than you think you need.
The thing about any coffee shop is that the length of time it will take to get your order ready will always be a crapshoot.  You may be able to usually receive your order in a certain amount of time, but things come up: the blender might break down, a barista may have called out, maybe someone ahead of you placed a massive twenty-drink order.  Be prepared for the unexpected.  If you think you can get in and get your coffee in five minutes, you’re probably wrong.  At the very least, this isn’t going to happen every time, and it isn’t the barista’s fault.  That’s just life.  Things come up, and you might have to be flexible.   Oh, and full disclosure: when you tell us that you’re “running late”, we don’t care.  We aren’t going to move your drink to the front of the line.  If you’re running late, don’t stop for coffee.  It’s as simple as that.
Get off your phone. 
People generally dislike it when we mess up your order which is why we are trained to ask a lot of questions.  You come up to the register and order a latte?  Well, I’m going to ask what size, hot or iced, is two percent milk alright, is there anything else I can do for you, how are we paying for this today, do you want a receipt, and so on.  That’s a lot of questions, but we’d rather get all the info at the register rather than have to go back once the drink is made and start over again. You can help us out by paying attention, and (hands down) the biggest distraction we see is the cellphone.  Contrary to popular belief, baristas are not telepathic.  If you want almond milk in that mocha, then you have to tell us.  If you didn’t want that banana bread warmed up, then you have to tell us.  We try our best to ask questions, but help us out…and more importantly, don’t get upset with us when we ask questions.  I’m not grilling you for information on how you like your frappuccino because I enjoy bothering you or because I’m trying to lower your defenses so you join my cult; I just need to know what you want so we can avoid wasting time.   Please get off your phone and tell me clearly what you want.  If you don’t know, I am happy to answer questions and guide you towards what you’re looking for, but no matter how dexterous you think your mind is, you cannot simultaneously focus on the drama going on with your friend Becky and order an iced Tall quad shot shaken espresso, no classic syrup, sub five pumps hazelnut and two pumps sugar-free vanilla, light ice, chocolate cream cold foam, lightly sprinkled with cinnamon powder, in a Grande cup.  
The barista is probably not flirting with you. 
    I’m not going to spend too much time on this one.  It should be self-explanatory.   Just know that it’s our job to make you feel welcomed and comfortable, but that does not mean that we want to sleep with you.  I did not really experience sexual harassment until I became a barista and then suddenly I had a flock of men (usually old and white) talking about my “pretty little lips” or asking if I wanted to share a scone with them or reaching across the counter and grabbing my arm to tell me that my skin is very soft.  (Thankfully, my current boss is incredibly good at nipping any of that stuff in the bud and has a strict no tolerance policy for customers making partners feel unsafe or uncomfortable.  Thanks, Char!) Stop.  I am not your toy.  I am just a person doing a job and trying to make a living.  Yes, I do enjoy welcoming you to this third space and even establishing friendly relationships with anyone who comes in, but customer service me is not the real me.  I am not trying to flirt with you, I don’t want you to flirt with me, and I will tell you when you cross a line.  
I do not care if you mispronounce things.
I also do not care if you get the names of the sizes incorrect.  Let’s just admit that the sizing at Starbucks is awful.  The whole thing started because once upon a time, they only offered the sizes Short (8oz) or Tall (12oz) and while that’s easy to remember, Starbucks just kept adding sizes up because, ya know, America.  At one point in time, the Grande was considered extra large and then they added Venti before finally adding Trenta.  What we’re left with is a lot of people assuming that the biggest size we have is a Tall and then getting disappointed when they’re large frappuccino is so tiny.  (Honestly, I personally prefer it if you simply say small, medium, or large.  At least then I know that we’re speaking the same language.)  So many of the terms used are Italian or at least Italian-derived and most Americans do not speak Italian.  If you call it a “grand mach-yee-otto”, I will understand what you mean.  As someone who spent years being afraid to order a sauvignon blanc because I knew that I wasn’t pronouncing it correctly, I get the instinct to try and “speak the language”, but just know that no one is going to laugh at you.  And if they do, then you tell their store manager.   Furthermore, don’t be afraid to ask us questions.  We are here to help you figure out what exactly that one drink was…you know, the one your sister got for your last time (“I just remember that it was hot and it tasted like caramel.”  Hey, I can work with that!) I don’t mind people asking questions; what I do mind is when people complain about having to wait in line but then get up to the register and only then think about what they want to order.  Get your life together, Karen.  
Read the room.
Picture it: you’re waiting for your drink.  You’ve been waiting maybe five minutes.  You think to yourself, “Why is this taking so long?”  And then you decide that you’re going to march up to the handoff plane or (God forbid) crane your neck over the glass partitions in front of the bar and demand to know why you don’t have your drinks yet.   Stop.  Look around.  Are other people waiting?  Are the baristas running around crazily?  Is there a line of drinks on the counter?  How many people are at the bar?  During peak, there should be at least two (hopefully more if it’s very busy).  Is one person running the register and the oven?  Is there a pile of dishes laying off to the side?  Is an employee yelling something like, “I need peppermint syrup on the fly?!”  If you’re in a drive-thru, is there a line of cars behind you? If you answered yes to any of the questions above, the store is probably very busy.  And, being very busy, there are going to be some longer wait times.  I have worked primarily in a cafe store (meaning no drive thru), and our general rule is that we want people to be waiting ten minutes at the absolute most.  Check your watch and ask yourself, “Have I been waiting longer than ten minutes?”  If it’s very busy and the answer is no, then take a seat and calm down.  (And, no, that ten minutes does not start when you walk in.  It starts when you finish paying and your order goes through.  See #1 if you have questions.)   The amount of people who go into a rage because they had to (dramatic gasp) wait, is stifling.  Take a look around and have some pity on the people making your coffee.  If you truly feel that something is unacceptable (be it wait times, a barista’s attitude, etc.), the best thing you can do is email or call the store manager or the district manager.  Stores should have business cards with contact information for both of these individuals.  Said cards are usually located at the hand-off plane but not necessarily.  Before you start yelling at the twenty-two-year-old who has been awake since 4am and is doing the best they can, contact someone higher up and complain to them.  I know that it isn’t as cathartic (you maniac) as screaming in the middle of a Starbucks and getting up on some proverbial soapbox about how “no one wants to work anymore”, but you’re going to get better results if you express your frustration to the people who actually have a say in things like labor hours.  
All in all, friends, assume the best in others and have patience.  If you can do both of these things, you’ll get your drink and us baristas won’t have to run to the backroom in tears.  At the end of the day, it’s just coffee.  Is this really the hill you want to die on?  I didn’t think so.  
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officialbabayaga · 8 months
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heyyy i saw your tags on the college post about taking seven years to finish undergrad and i was wondering if you could talk about how you got from there to law school? i’m still struggling to finish my last year of undergrad and as someone who’s always conceptualized myself as academically successful and has watched all my friends do this seemingly with ease it’s been a rough time, and i’ve been worried i won’t be able to get into grad schools given that i’m gonna graduate in more than four years. anyway if this isn’t something you want to talk about that is so valid and know that just by mentioning it i’m feeling less alone so thank you!
Oh no worries I’m happy to talk about it! I feel like “nontraditional” academic journeys are never really acknowledged enough, to be honest. What I want you to know right from the start is that I got really lucky with the opportunities that I was given, but I also put the work in to follow through.
I’ll skim over the gory details but I did… terribly in undergrad. It wasn’t because I couldn’t intellectually keep up with my classes, mental illness was eating my brain and I just couldn’t function at the level I needed to. BUT I finally graduated with a 2.7 GPA, and was lucky enough to have made a good enough impression at a summer internship that they hired me full time immediately after I graduated. That was a HUGE hurdle, especially because my bachelor’s is in biology, and jobs with a bio degree but no graduate school are really hard to come by.
Now what helped me the most was that I “paid my dues.” I worked my way up from a research assistant to, eventually, a senior research associate after 4 years of incredibly hard work. Even though my undergrad transcript was a pile of shit, I showed through my career that I could do really good work. I did overtime and took on extra projects so I could get my research published and I did everything I could to go to conferences and (unfortunately) network as much as possible.
(digression - my favorite professor once said that networking seems pointless at the time, because you’re not going to see the payoff for another 5 years. that helped put it in perspective for me. basically my networking tips are to just be NICE and HELPFUL when you meet people, especially in a professional context but literally if you just live your life that way and actually talk to people at boring events you’re basically good to go)
graduate schools don’t only take your undergraduate performance into account. Even with my shitty grades, I had put the work in for 4 years at a job that allowed me to really expand my CV. this was a lot of effort, but it was also a LOT of luck. it’s hard to find jobs that actually allow you to move up the ladder but it’s so worth it when you find one. even if it seems thankless and awful at the time, DON’T just give up and settle somewhere that will never promote you or give you opportunities to progress. show through a few years after undergrad that you can work hard and succeed, even if it was professionally and not academically.
Also, since I knew my grades sucked, I wanted to tip the scales even more in my favor. For about 4 months I spent every weekend slamming a vietnamese iced coffee to simulate a panic attack and take khan academy full lsat practice tests. This may not be an advisable way to study, but I have an anxiety disorder and I knew I’d be a fucking mess for the actual test so I made myself get used to it before it actually happened.
a killer admissions essay and really good letters of recommendation are so helpful, too. I didn’t have any professors I could ask for letters, so I got my lab director and the ceo of the company I worked for to write two for me, because we were on really good terms.
and I think that’s about it? it was a big mix of luck and hard work, and for me, the end result was getting accepted to law school 5 days after i applied :) but i was rejected from one school and waitlisted for another so it’s important to remember that the places you’re applying to could have extremely different criteria for what they’re looking for in students.
I wish you the best of luck!! It can be so tough but if you haven’t shown your best work in undergrad, you’re never out of chances to prove that you’ve grown enough to get back into academia. also in my experience, generally, law students who have real-world job experience do better than the ones who are coming straight from undergrad! because it IS a job, and learning professionalism and self-direction before getting into it makes a whole lot of difference.
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[#]OrdinaryGirls: Summer '23 Mailbag
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Art by Keij
Whitley, is your hair naturally curly or straight?
Whitley Valentine: Curly as hell. I straighten it sometimes when I need to, but I’ve been wearing it short lately *glare*
Queen Alici: Oh my GOOOOODDD. You just won’t let that go.
K-Cup Krysta: There is a long, ridiculous story that can be summarized as “Alicia got glue in Whitley’s hair filming a TikTok.”
Alicia, are there any strength milestones you're trying to break?
QA: I can deadlift the back end of a Kia Soul, so logically—
KCK: I told you to stop saying that word.
QA: —squatting a Kia Soul is next, followed by bench-pressing one.
KCK: That is not logic. That is not logic!
WV: Wait, when did you lift my car?
Krysta, being the numbers girl what value would you give to your physical assets? (winks while typing)
KCK: It depends on your definition of ‘value' as well as your quantification method. Market value, for example, would roughly equal the price I would ask from of a company wishing to sign me to an exclusive contract. Net worth, accounting-wise, is the most quantifiable, though it raises the question of which physical assets to which we’re referring, I do include all physical assets, which includes things like my hair, my skintone, my—
WV: Please stop.
QA: I was wondering how long you would last.
Whitley, which pizza toppings do you A) Love, B) Dislike?
WV: Well, if I’m limited to one pizza, then I go full supreme. I want a full-course meal. Dislike? No issues with toppings, but I am personally opposed to thin crust or any deviation from marinara sauce.
KCK: While on the subject, I reiterate that I prefer cheese or veggie. I don’t care for meat on pizza, though I will have wings by the side when it's an option.
WV: How about I just let you order next time?
QA: Love mushrooms. Not a fan of boba on pizza.
WV: It wasn't bad though.
Alicia, for anime, binge-watch or view it as it comes out?
QA: As it comes out. I like cliffhangers. I also have zero willpower.
KCK: We are quite aware.
WV: Why does she get the fun questions? Binge all the way. Who the hell can even remember tv they watched a week ago?
KCK: If possible, I prefer to watch in whatever format they are posted which, I assume, is how the show is intended to be viewed.
QA: My mind is unchanged.
Krysta, have you ever had any back problems due to your assets?
KCK: Posture is key. Always practice good posture.
WV: Seconded.
QA: Krysta also recommends hiring an amazing personal trainer.
KCK: Krysta will withhold official endorsements until all parties have signed the paperwork.
Whitley, when was the last time you met a woman taller than yourself?
WV: High school
QA: Stronger than me? College.
KCK: Larger breasts? Last week at Costco.
Alicia, how soft are Krysta's boobs?
QA: Ooooh, that’s a complicated question. How soft is anything? Pillow scale? Water balloon density? The jiggliness-meter?
KCK: Are you making fun of me?
WV: Kinda sounds like it.
Krysta, how accurate is Alicia's answer?
KCK: Setting aside the implicit assumption that Alicia has touched my breasts, her questions are valid. It relates back to the issue of quantifiable comparisons. Starting with volume—
WV: Warm, jiggly, flesh pillows
QA: Wow. Nailed it.
Whitley, how does Nika look relative to you now compared to the first time you saw her? And please tell her I said zdravo!
WV: I haven’t seen her in-person since the volleyball tournament a few years back. I don't know if she's grown at all since, but I can say I have a hard time imagining the girl who blogged her way through her initial growth spurt being quiet about another one.
KCK: According to her last LinkedIN update, she was recently hired as a spokesmodel for the German specialty apparel company, Riesin.
QA: If her Insta is any indication, her quads and shoulders have been looking amazing lately, though her arms overall are a little smaller. Her abs are phenomenal as always.
Alicia, is there such thing as being too muscular?
QA: Since I’m going for strength, rather than muscliness—
WV: For those at home, she just said 'muskliness.'
QA: Hey, if beefiness benefits, bonus! And believe me, I know plenty of guys with huge muscles that aren’t nearly as strong as they look.
KCK: Most of whom you've beaten arm wrestling.
QA: One guy cried. I gave him a hug afterwards.
WV: Can we get back to the guys with huge muscles?
Krysta, are you competitive or cooperative with other notable faces in your business?
KCK: If you’re mean to other large-busted models, I haven't met many of them since I do not attend expos or conventions. If you are referring to online personalities in general, then—
QA: *points to self* Notable face right freaking here.
WV: Raise your hand if you’re verified on Instagram. *raises hand*
QA: …
WV: Sorry, anyone else? Anyone? Anyone?
QA: I’m just saying it’s been a while since we’ve boxed.
KCK: Basically, whatever you would call this.
Whitley, what will you do if you reach 8 feet in height?
QA: Get stoned and take pictures of her feet.
KCK: Auction her socks on eBay.
QA: Record and post videos of herself eating an entire extra-large supreme pizza while binge-watching She-Hulk.
KCK: Livestream her pedicures.
QA:  So basically, the same things she already does.
WV: It has 's worked out pretty well for me so far.
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rocorambles · 3 years
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Surprise Interview
Pairing: Kenma x Reader
Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation
Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.
A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~
There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.
Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.
However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.
You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.
Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.
You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.
Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.
(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)
Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.
There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.
You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.
But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.
He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.
Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.
You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.
He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.
But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.
“Kozume, do you want to play-”
“Just call me Kenma.”
Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.
“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”
You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.
It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.
If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.
He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.
It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.
“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”
“Kenma not you too!!!”
His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.
“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”
There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.
“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”
You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.
It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.
It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.
“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”
There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.
But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.
He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…
Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.
“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”
He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.
But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.
Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.
“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”
It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.
It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.
It’s your rejection.
It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.
And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.
“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”
He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.
“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”
“That’s not true! They love me-”
“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”
You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.
“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”
He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.
“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”
If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.
But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.
“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”
You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.
There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.
You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.
How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?
That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.
But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.
Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.
“Kenma! No! Too much-”
You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.
You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.
But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.
He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.
There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...
Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.
You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.
Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.
“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”
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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years
Text
Always You | JJK (Eight-Part 2)
Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?
Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama
Word Count: 20.5k
Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, oc struggles with her future, mentions of vibrator, mentions of cum eating, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), masturbation, swallowing
Notes: woooaahh we got only one chapter left guys! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) I LOVE talking with ya’ll!
Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19
© taestefully-in-luv
Previous
~~~~~~~~~~~~
November
It shouldn’t be this hard. Figuring out your entire future as a human being should not be this fucking hard, but it is. It’s not that you mind making cookies, or that you look down on yourself for it but it’s not what you want to do forever. Actually, you aren’t sure you want to do anything forever. You wish you could just travel, and that’s how you live life.
“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks from besides you. You two are at your favorite coffee stop, Jungkook is working on his laptop for work and you are journaling in your cute pink notebook.
“What do you mean?”
“I can tell something is bothering you…” Jungkook closes his laptop and gives you his full attention.
“It’s nothing.” You say nonchalantly.
“I’m all ears baby.”
“Okay…” you set your pen down and look into Jungkook’s eyes.
“I’m struggling with what I want to do.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know, my whole fucking future. I don’t know what it is I want!” your head falls into your hands, “I hate marketing.”
“Wait, what? You hate…what you got a degree in?”
“I kind of told you before…I only got a degree in it because I knew I would be able to find a job in the field. But that’s not exactly going as planned.”
Jungkook bites down on his lips as he watches you, you look lost and confused and frustrated. It makes his heart hurt.
“How long have you been feeling this way?”
“Forever but it only got worse after graduation.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“No offense Jungkook but you kind of stopped talking to me for three of those months.” You snap at him and he winces, “Sorry…” you shake your head, “I’m just irritated right now.”
“How can I help?”
“You can’t.” you groan, “No one can help me. I’m fucked.”
“y/n that’s not true.”
“What do you want in life? What makes you happy?”
“I don’t know, Jungkook. That’s a part of my problem, I don’t fucking know.”
“We’ll figure it out.” He reaches his hands over the table to hold on to yours.
“Easy for you say,” you snap again, “You are living your dream. The film company you interned for during college hired you on as a permanent employee.” You complain.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you y/n.”
“Right, we can feel bad for me but you don’t get what I’m going through.”
Jungkook winces again at the sharp stab of your words, “I’m trying to understand though.”
“Forget it.”
“No. y/n, I want to help.”
“Maybe I need to go home.”
“Huh?” Jungkook’s hold tightens on your hand. “Go home?”
“Just for a visit. I miss my parents, I think. They may be able to help.”
“For how long?”
“Just for a few days, nothing crazy. Don’t worry, you won’t miss me too much.”
“I always miss you.”
You laugh at Jungkook’s pouting face. He looks so cute.
“Why don’t…why don’t you come with me?” You try asking. “You have weekends off, right? We can go next weekend?”
“Wait,” Jungkook looks at you with his bunny grin. “You want me to come? And meet your parents?”
“Isn’t it a little weird, you’re my best friend but they’ve only ever heard about you. So yes, you can come and meet my parents.”
“Are you sure?” his grin widens. “You really want me to go? For a whole weekend?”
“I mean, as long as Vanessa is okay with it…”
“I’ll talk to her about it,” Jungkook smile fades just the slightest. “But I am sure it will be fine.”
“My mom thinks you’re very handsome.”
“Your mom is on to something.” He jokes.
“My parents are a little protective over me…just a warning. And they might tease us…only because you’re a boy!”
“Tease us how?”
“Oh come on, you know how it is…I bring a boy home…blah blah blah.”
Realization hits Jungkook as he sips on his coffee and he starts laughing.
“Like, they’ll want me to be your boyfriend?”
“Something like that.”
You and Jungkook share a look that you don’t really know what it could mean but you tear your eyes away from him and pick up your pen again.
“We can decide on the details later, talk to Vanessa first.”
“Got it.”
~~~~~
“Teaching nine year old’s is easier than teaching you.” Jimin says out of breath, his hands on his hips. “How do you not get this? Move your left foot here then your hands go…” he tries reteaching you the steps, “No, not there.” He groans out.
“Jimin, it’s hard! Use someone else at your test subject!”
“Jungkook is busy with what’s her face, Trina and Holly are doing god knows what, so tonight you are all I’ve got.”
“Thanks, I’m flattered. Also, you literally have a million friends.” You point out.
“But you’re my favorite.” He winks at you, he runs a hand through his hair and he sighs out again. “Let’s take a break.”
“Sounds good to me.” You chirp happily. “So, did Jungkook tell you he might be coming with me to my parents this weekend?”
“He what now?” Jimin gives you a concerned look, “Babe…”
“What?”
“Actually,” Jimin allows a smirk to play on his lips, “I like this idea, maybe it will get you guys one step closer to getting together.” He shrugs.
“That’s—that’s not the point. I’m going because I miss home and honestly it would be nice to have Jungkook there but also he’s never met them!”
“Yeah, that’s weird.”
“But I told him to get the ‘ok’ from Vanessa.”
“You’re so respectful. I could never.”
You two plop down onto Jimin’s sofa, a water bottle in hand as you gulp it down. The fresh liquid making you feel revived again. It’s been a couple days since you saw Jungkook, you asked to hang out tonight but he already had plans with Vanessa. You try so hard not to be hurt by that because why would you? What were you expecting? For him to cancel his plans with her and run off into the sunset with you? Yes, you silently think to yourself.
“What made you want to go home anyway?” Jimin asks, tilting his head to get a good look at you.
“Quarter life crisis, no biggie.”
“Makes sense.” Jimin stretches his arms out over his head and yawns. “What’s the crisis?”
“All my friends are passionate about what they do and here I am.”
“Babe, don’t compare yourself to others…I hate when you do that. Also, I’m not sure my passion is teaching clumsy nine year old’s how to do a simple dance move.” Jimin huffs out, “I wish I was the one on stage…”
“Jimin…sorry, I know this isn’t really what you wanted…”
“It’s okay…the kids are cute, I guess. And they’re faster learners compared to you.”
“Hey!” you fuss, “These kids are in advanced classes, okay?”
“Babe, this is for beginners.”
“Whatever.”
“So, marketing ain’t it huh?” Jimin asks and you nod your head, “I could of told you that five minutes after I met you.”
“Maybe you should of.”
“But you already knew it wasn’t for you though…why did you keep at it?”
“I don’t know anymore.” You whine, “I wish I could just do something a little meaningful then have enough money to travel!”
“Why don’t you teach English abroad?” Jimin turns on his side to face you, “You get to travel and do something meaningful.”
Your head tilts to the side as you process his words, was that kind of a good idea?
“Hm…” you bite on your lip. “That’s—that’s not a bad idea actually.”
“But you would leave us all behind, you get that, right?” Jimin chuckles, “Not sure Jungkook would let you leave.”
“It’s a lot to process and think about, but it’s a cool option.” You admit, stretching your arms out in front of you, “Shit, that dance was a work out!”
“You barely did anything though…”
“I did enough to make me feel this soreness creeping in.” you defend yourself quickly, “So, do you think Vanessa will give Jungkook the ‘ok’ to come with me?”
“I don’t see why not, she doesn’t seem like the controlling type, right?”
“Not really…she’s kind of odd. I’m trying so hard to understand her but she makes it kind of difficult.”
“Didn’t you say she didn’t want to interact with any of us at JK’s party because she’s only there for him?”
“Yup.”
“Damn, I don’t know if I should be mad at that or like, salute her for it.”
You start laughing and Jimin joins you but tells you he’s serious, you just keep laughing and nod your head.
“I kind of get that.” You giggle. “I want to ask Jungkook if she has some sort of social anxiety, it’s the only thing I can come up with on why she’s so…her.”
“Why don’t you?” Jimin asks, and he’s right, why don’t you? You’re just afraid of offending him about her and you don’t want to deal with that…
“I don’t know.”
“Just because you’re trying to be cool about everything doesn’t mean you have to try and be friends with her…it doesn’t seem like she wants to make any friends with any of us, so don’t try to push it.” Jimin advices and you hate that maybe he’s right.
“I know but…”
“No but’s!” Jimin cuts in, “The only butt that matters is mine.” He says giving his ass a little spank. You chuckle and hit his arm and shake your head at him.
“Fine.”
“So, what would you do if Jungkook confessed his feelings to you?”
You lift your head to face Jimin, your eyes filled with surprise. You close them and shake your head a little bit and try to form some words very pathetically.
“W-What? W-Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you asking that?”
“Just curious…” Jimin sucks in his thick bottom lip and pouts.
“I would…I don’t know what I would do.” You respond honestly. Jimin rolls his eyes and stands from the couch and places his hands on his hips.
“You would return his feelings wouldn’t you? Jump in his arms? Kiss him?”
“Jimin…” your tone warns him to chill out, “I would be shocked probably. But if he was serious…of course, I would do all those things…” you finish shyly.
“Perfect. Now just tell him all of that.”
“Jimin…”
“You have til the end of the year.” Jimin states confidently, “then I am forcing you two in a room, revealing everything and making you talk.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Mark my fucking words bish.”
Dude…Jimin sounds and looks fucking serious.
“Jimin seriously, don’t do that. Don’t put me on the spot like that.”
Jimin plugs his ear holes with his pointer fingers and starts singing a beautiful ‘lalala’ and proceeds to ignore you as you try to get his attention.
“Jimin, seriously!”
“y/n.” he takes his fingers out and becomes more serious, “I said mark my fucking words.”
~~~~~~
Jungkook and Vanessa lazily lay on her bed, his arm draped across her waist while she plays some music game on her phone.
“I’m sorry again.” Jungkook whispers out, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”
“It’s okay.” Vanessa says softly, “You just aren’t in the mood tonight, and that’s okay.” She continues to look at her phone, her fingers going at it on her game.
“Maybe we can try again la—”
“My Jungkookie just doesn’t want me tonight.”
“Vanessa…don’t say it like that.”
She lifts her head up to smile at him, it’s one of those coy, secretive smiles and Jungkook feels worse.
“So about this weekend, you’re wanting to go with y/n to her parent’s house?”
“I don’t have to go, I know we had plans on Saturday.”
“No, no. Don’t be silly, I don’t mind.” She says smoothly, “It sounds like a good idea.”
“Good idea how?”
“Oh nothing.” She says, going back to her game. “You should go.”
“Okay, I’ll let her know…” Jungkook pulls out his phone to send you a text. You text back within seconds sending him the thumbs up emoji. He feels his entire chest go warm at the thought of going with you this weekend.
He’s never met a girl’s parents, not like this. Not with someone that means as much to him as you do. So he feels as nervous as he does excited. He wants to look his best, he wants to present himself maturely. What does that even mean? Not even Jungkook knows but he thinks it makes sense.
“I can go down on you Vanessa…” Jungkook offers, still feeling guilty.
“No need, I’m not really in the mood either.” She says nonchalantly, too focused on her game at hand.
He has vowed that he won’t think of you while being with Vanessa and usually that would be no problem but tonight…he couldn’t get in the mood at all. All he wanted to do was think about you.
Sex with you…is just different. It feels so fucking good on all levels physical but also all levels emotional. He knows exactly what it feels like to have his cock between your lips and down your throat, he knows exactly what it feels like to fondle your breasts and suck on them too. He knows exactly what you taste like, and god, it is his favorite flavor. He knows exactly how you sound when you’re being fucking pounded and exactly how you sound when you come.
“Is this okay?” Jungkook keeps asking you, his fingers bunching up your hair and you nod pathetically.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you? Since I fucking met you.” He admits, his fingers traveling down to your panties, he pushes them aside as he dips a finger into your wet hole. You moan out, your moan loud and high pitched and Jungkook can’t help but smirk.
“Please…”
“Please what?”
“Another finger.” You practically fucking beg, and Jungkook complies quite easily. He slips another finger into your greedy fucking pussy and you yelp. He moves his fingers inside you so fucking expertly, making your toes curl.
“You make me feel so good.” You whimper out.
Jungkook can’t help but reach down and rub his aching cock through his briefs, he wants to feel good too. He is absolutely aching for you, wanting to be touched by you so badly.
“Stop touching yourself” you command and Jungkook being the good boy he is, listens.
“Make me come, Jungkook.” And once again, he complies. He makes you come all over his fingers and then he makes you come again on his tongue and then for a third time, he makes you come on his tongue again making you feel fucking spent.
“Lay on your back.” You order and his eyes go wide with excitement. You lay down next to him and your fingers very delicately dance across his lower stomach. He sighs out heavily, releasing long breaths one after the other. Your fingers reach the waist band of his briefs and you begin to slowly drag them down. His cock springs free and your mouth waters at the sight. There’s no way he is this blessed. He’s so incredibly long and thick, the head of his cock swollen and leaking with precum.
“You wanted to touch yourself right?” you tease. “Now’s your chance.”
“W-What?”
“I want you to touch yourself, Jungkook. You can use my juices as lube,” you say, spreading your legs, your own cum sticky against your inner thighs.
Jungkook’s doe eyes turn sharp as he stares at you and he whimpers. Fucking whimpers. He is quick to gather your juices in his hand and start jacking himself off. He holds on to his cock tightly, rubbing it viciously.
“Ah. Ah.” He groans out, his eyes never leaving yours as he touches himself.
“Such a good boy, Jungkook. God, can you imagine if this gorgeous cock was in my mouth right now?” you whisper in his ear.
“Can you imagine my pretty pink lips wrapped around you, my head bobbing up and down? Can you hear me choke? Choke on this pretty cock?”
“So close, y/n. please don’t stop.”
“You’re not allowed to come yet. Can you imagine fucking me, Jungkook?
“God, yes, yes, yes.”
“Can you imagine thrusting into my pussy? My walls getting tight around your cock? Making us both come?”
“Fuck, y/n. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come.”
You raise yourself, leaning away from his ear and smirk down at him.
“Since you were so good for me, I’ll reward you. I’ll let you come. And I’ll let you come down my throat.”
You move until you’re on top of him, you lean down until you’re replacing his hand with your mouth. He groans out loudly when he feels his cock enter your warm mouth and you moan into the feeling.
“Fuuuuuck.”
And Jungkook is coming so fucking hard, he doesn’t think he has ever come this hard before. He shoots his cum down your throat and you swallow it all, not even a drop left behind on your lips.
You rise from his cock and smile down at him and he lifts himself up and his lips crash into yours.
Jungkook pulls away for a moment, his eyes dark and his voice low,
“Now I am going to fuck you.”
“Since I’ll be gone this weekend, should we go on a date tomorrow night?”
Vanessa pauses her game and looks straight ahead, she zones out for a few seconds before she’s quietly clearing her throat and looking Jungkook’s way.
“No…I have plans, sorry.”
“Plans?”
“Yes, plans.” The ‘s’ leaves her lips sounding so silky. “You should find something else to do.” Then vanessa exits her game to send a quick text to someone. After a minute or two passes she’s looking at him again.
“y/n’s free tomorrow night, you should just hang with her.”
Jungkook pushes his head back in disbelief, did…
“Did you text y/n…for me?”
“Yes.” Vanessa looks at him, her small eyes going wide, “I was just trying to find you something to do.”
Jungkook stares at her in shock and then bursts out into laughter.
“Sorry, sorry. I just…never thought you would do something like that but somehow it feels on brand.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her innocent voice making Jungkook smile.
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Okay, I’ll send her a text…”
Jungkook 10:13pm
So, I hear youre free tmrw night lol
y/n 10:13pm
you hear right lmaaoo
Jungkook 10:14pm
Should we do something?
y/n 10:14pm
I think Jin says he’s having a small cookout at his place, should we go?
Jungkook 10:15pm
Sounds good, I’ll drive. Pick you up at 6?
y/n 10:16pm
yay! Yeah 6 works for me. :)
Jungkook slides his phone into his pocket and looks at Vanessa with a confused expression…
“Why do you want me to hang with y/n?”
“She’s your best friend.” She responds easily. “Plus, since I am busy I feel bad to leave you hanging.”
“You’re not seeing him…right?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am seeing.” She opens the music game app again and starts focusing on beating her last score.
Jungkook sighs out in defeat, sometimes talking to Vanessa gets him nowhere. He pulls out his phone again and checks the time.
“Maybe I should head home…” He begins to say, “I’ll text you throughout the weekend and I’ll see you after.”
“Don’t be rude and be on your phone while you’re in her parents company.” Jungkook scoffs, that’s super rich coming from her.
“Okay, I won’t text so much, but I will see you after the weekend okay?”
“Sure.” She uses one hand to wave him off but he still leans over to kiss her cheek.
~~~~~
You still can’t get over just how huge Jin’s house is! You are currently lost trying to find the bathroom again. You open up a door to a bedroom and get reminded of the night you were with Tae. It’s the same room. Wow, that feels like a lifetime ago.
You continue strolling down the hall until you come to the last door—the bathroom.
You use it quickly and head back outside to join the rest of your friends. Jin saved a seat for you next to him and you can’t help but smile.
“Jungkook says you two are heading to your parents this weekend!” Jin exclaims excitedly.
“I wanna meet your parents too!” Hobi whines, “I am great with parents!”
“I’m sure you two will have a lovely time.” Namjoon joins the conversation.
“By the way y/n…” Jin looks awkwardly to the side, “I invited Tae, I know you two are broken up…”
“Oh no, it’s okay. We’re friends.”
At this, Jungkook ears perk up, “Friends? Since when?”
“It just happened like that.” You shrug.
Jin claps his hands together, “Perfect. And then Jimin should be here by now, let me call him.”
Jin takes out his phone and dials for Jimin.
“So, you two are friends now?” Jungkook pries, “Since when?”
“Since a little while ago. You should think about chilling out too.”
“Pshh.”
“Jimin is arriving, let me go let him in, I’ll be right back.” Jin says, standing from his chair.
“So y/n, how’s the job hunting going?” Namjoon asks, his leg crossed over the other as he leans forward to give you his full attention.
“Umm…” you bite your lip, Jungkook goes rigid at his question…knowing this is uncomfortable for you.
“it’s sort of on pause,” you admit, “Yeah, on pause.”
“Oh thank god!” Namjoon laughs, “I thought I was the only one!”
“I told you, you weren’t.” Hobi laughs too, patting Namjoon on the back.
“You too?” you asks, sighing out in relief. “It’s annoying, isn’t it?” you also laugh.
Jungkook visibly relaxes as he watches you chilling and having a good time.
“Look who else is here!” Jin comes back with Jimin, and behind Jimin is Taehyung and also…Yoongi?
“Yoongs?” you give him a confused look before breaking out into a smile.
“Hey everyone, nice to see you all again.” Yoongi gives everyone his gummy smile and a small wave of the hand.
“Yoongi!” Hobi yells out, “I’m so glad Tae brought you!”
You remember them two hitting it off at Jungkook’s birthday party, so you nod in approval.
“Hi Tae, hi Jimin.”
“Hello beautiful.” Jimin comes to you, leans down and hugs you. Taehyung waves at you excitedly.
“Hi Jungkook.” Taehyung offers a greeting quite awkwardly but Jungkook nods his head and smiles,
“Hey man.”
You tilt your head to look at Jungkook, surprise written all over your face as you smile wide at him.
“The gangs all here!” Jin yells out, the happiness evident in his voice. “Let’s start cooking!”
The evening sun is your favorite, the way it sets the sky on fire with its beautiful rays of gold. It gets really chilly, especially at night since it is the middle of November. You stand next to the pool in the backyard when you feel a jacket get draped over your shoulders.
“Hi Jungkook.” You say without looking who it is, somehow you just know.
“Whatcha thinking about?” He asks, coming to your side.
“Life, and everything in it.”
You turn around to get a look at all the guys, Jin and Namjoon at the grill, Yoongi and Hobi discussing something dealing with music, Tae and Jimin playing rock, paper, scissors and Jungkook here at your side. You feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such great friends. These 7 men making it hard to leave.
“I’ve been thinking about teaching English abroad…nothing is set in stone, it’s just an idea. But I kind of like it.”
“Abroad? Like away from here? Away from me?” Jungkook whispers out as he realizes what that means.
“It’s just an idea.”
Jungkook looks at your side profile and smiles, he leans into your side and wraps the jacket even more snug against your body.
“Whatever will make you happy y/n.” he says softly, and you know he means it.
“Let’s go join the other guys.” You say, you grab a hold of Jungkook’s hand and you two walk towards the other boys. They’re loud, rumbunctious and some of your favorite people. You couldn’t feel more at home and at peace.
“Okay, so who wants a sausage? I cooked them perfectly.” Jin shows a plate of meat, showcasing how absolutely perfect they are to everyone.
“Hey, I helped.” Namjoon pouts.
“Yeah, he……….’helped’” Jimin uses air quotes emphasizing ‘help’.
“Hey I did!”
“Moral support barely counts as help dude.” Hobi says, cracking up.
“Fine, nobody eat this hamburger patty,” he points to one single patty. “Because I cooked it.”
“Nobody wants to eat that hamburger patty.” Taehyung teases.
“I’ll eat your hamburger patty.” You chirp.
“Kiss ass.” Yoongi chuckles, walking up next to the grill. “Oh Jin, don’t forget to give me your number later so we can plan that fishing trip.”
“You two are planning a fishing trip?” You eye Yoongi, “I see you’re making friends.”
“Shut up.” He smiles shyly.
“So Jungkook,” Taehyung faces Jungkook and smirks, “Are you nervous about meeting y/n’s parents?”
“Yeah, Jungkookie, are you nervous?” Hobi chips in.
Jungkook’s eyes fall to the ground as he chews on his lips, he scratches the back of his neck and smiles softly.
“Maybe a little.”
“Why?” you ask, leaning into Jungkook’s frame, “Nothing to be nervous about.”
“Are you sure y/n?” Yoongi begins to tease you, “You are their little ‘miracle’ baby.”
“Shut up!” you laugh, “It will be fine, Jungkook. I promise.”
“I’m not too worried.” He says, he looks down at the ground still, his smile growing.
~~~~~~
You wait by your front door with a small suitcase in hand, humming some song. Jungkook should be here at any moment! He said he was on his way after work about 15 minutes ago and you know it shouldn’t take too long.
You cannot wait to see your parents, if you’re honest. You haven’t visited them in almost half a year! What you need is your parent’s loving embrace and also their wise words.
And it is pretty damn exciting you get to finally introduce your best friend to them. It’s a 4 hour drive, so you have a lot to catch Jungkook up on, you know, what your parents are even like up close and personal.
Your phone starts buzzing, and you pull it from you back pocket to see Jungkook sent a text that he has arrived.
“See you, Holly!” you yell out, but she’s in her room with the music on so you doubt she hears you. You think she said Trina is staying over for the weekend, so you know she won’t be lonely without you.
You make your way to Jungkook’s car (he offered to drive to your parents, which you do not mind in the least.) and see him waiting outside of it for you. He’s leaning against the car like a fucking stud. Yes, you just said fucking stud. Because that’s what he looks like. You hate that your god damn vagina reacts first! That bitch is booming as you eye him up and down. His tight jeans, chunky boots and striped sweater are a good look on him. His hair is pushed away from his forehead, split down the middle and he looks so fucking hot.
“Hi.” You call out, joining him at his car.
“Hey there.” He says cooly, grabbing your suitcase from you. He opens the back door and sets it inside next to his, “You ready?” he asks with a smirk.
“Yup” you pop the ‘p’ and smile back at him.
“Okay and my mom is sweet, I swear. But she sort of has no filter. My dad’s really laid back and wont tease as much…probably.” You say, stuffing your mouth with bagged popcorn.
“Probably?” Jungkook chuckles, he reaches for a handful of popcorn himself.
“Meaning he will probably let my mom do all the talking for the most part and he will only make somecomments.”
“What sort of comments should we expect?”
Suddenly, you feel your cheeks flush and you become a little shy.
“I don’t know, figure it out.” You whisper, digging in the bag for more of the snack.
Jungkook laughs at you, he thinks you’re being too cute right now. He turns his head to get a look at you and he smiles.
“Okay baby.”
“And maybe don’t call me ‘baby’ in front of my parents…they will definitely get the wrong idea.”
Jungkook playfully raises a brow at you, “And what idea is that?” he teases but it goes over your head.
“Jungkook.” You groan out, “Use your head.”
“Honestly, I’m just excited to meet your parents.” Jungkook admits happily, “I wish I could have introduced you to mom.”
“…Yeah, I would have liked to have met her. She raised you really well.”
“Honestly, she would have adored you. And…dad would have really liked you too.”
You retreat your hand out of the popcorn bag and wipe your dirty fingers on your jeans, you lick the remainder off.
“What was your mom like?”
At this Jungkook beams, his smile so bright and beautiful.
“Mom was an angel. Want to know the first time I lied to her?” Jungkook asks excitedly, “And how she reacted? It was like a movie.”
“Sure.” You chuckle.
“I was in the 8th grade,” he begins but you cut him off.
“You didn’t lie until 8th grade? That’s hard to believe.”
“I was a really good kid!” he whines. “Anyway, me and two of my buddies made plans to hang out but they wanted to hang out with this group of girls…at a girls house. I didn’t know if I was allowed at a girls house…so I lied and said we were all going to a carnival.” Jungkook starts cracking up as he recalls the memory.
“Mom believed me, gave me $20 for the wrist band to have access to all the rides, you know? Well, one of my friends wasn’t allowed at a girls house so he lied and said he was going to be at a birthday party at my house. Anyway we went to the girls house and all hung out, very innocent, I swear.” He continues laughing, his eyes crinkling.
“Anyway one of the girls mom was dropping me and that buddy off at my house when we see my mom pulling up at the same time while his mom was already parked in front of my house! Oh my god it was awful.”
“Holy hell, then what happened?” you ask.
“Well, we say thanks and get out of the car and he rushes to his moms car and my cousins were outside in my front yard talking to his parents about how there was no birthday party here.”
“And then?”
“My mom asked what was going on? I said my buddy wasn’t allowed at the carnival so we lied. But then my older cousin goes ‘Where’s your wrist band at Jungkook?’ And I wanted to strangle her! How could she out me!!! So I broke down crying to my mom and told her the truth.” He laughs, then he smiles fondly. “She told me it’s okay and that she forgives me. She said it’s not a big deal to hang out at girl’s houses as long as they’re just friends and I should never lie to her again.”
“Wow, an angel indeed.” You smile at Jungkook and he catches it from the corner of his eye.
“Yeah.” He smiles back.
“Where else my mom? She would of kicked my ass.” You laugh out loud and Jungkook joins you.
“I can’t wait to meet her.”
It’s a little after 8pm when you finally arrive to your childhood home, it’s nothing fancy or big or tremendous in any shape or form but hey, it’s home.
Jungkook pulls into the driveway and you notice your parents car isn’t here so you pull out your phone and call your mother.
Apparently they went to go pick up dinner for you four, but there’s a bit of a wait so they’ll be home in a little while. You tell her you understand, and remind her you still have a key.
“They’ll be home in a bit, why don’t we go inside and I can show you around?”
“Sounds good.” Jungkook has the car in park, and he’s quick to turn off the ignition. He gets out of the car and opens the back door to grab both of your suitcases.
“Jesus woman, what did you pack?” Jungkook complains.
“Yeah, yeah. Come on.” You usher him inside as you’re opening the front door.
It smells like your moms apple cinnamon candles have been lit up all day, the scent bringing you back to your childhood days. It smells like home, you can’t help but grin as you enter through.
“Let’s start by putting our stuff in our rooms!” you begin walking up the creaky stairs and Jungkook follows you with your bags in hand.
“This is your room,” you open the door to some lousy guest room but the bed is made and it smells nice. Jungkook nods while setting his suitcase down.
“And this…” you walk out and go to the room right next door, “is my room.”
Jungkook eyes go wide as he enters your room, he sees the posters on your walls, your baby pink duvet with a million pillows and the string of fairy lights above your bed and window.
“This is pre college y/n?” he asks, amused.
“Yup.”
“Oh my god, you had a boy band phase?” he touches the many posters on your wall.
“Who said I ever got out of it?” you tease.
Jungkook smiles as he observes your room, walking around slowly like he has all day. His fingers drag across your desk and all the things that occupy its space until he stops when he is touching a journal.
“A diary?” His amusement is out of the roof by now. “Let me read.” He asks with playful, pleading eyes.
“Hell to the no!” you rush to his side and grab the journal. “I don’t know what the fuck is in here.”
“Then it’s fun for both of us!” Jungkook reasons, “Let’s see what was in teenage y/n’s mind.”
“Probably lame stuff, I wasn’t very interesting.”
“I’ll see about that,” he takes the journal back and begins opening the journal and you grumble, trying to object. But in the end you let him open the journal, you wait patiently to be totally embarrassed.
“Okay this is from senior year…” he says, “Ryan wasn’t here today…” Jungkook starts laughing, “I was going to tell him I like him but it’s like the universe doesn’t want me to.” He reads out in a girly voice and you cringe. “Should I just move on?” he mocks.
“Okay, that’s enough!” you try reaching for the journal, your arms getting tangled with Jungkook’s. He can’t stop laughing as you whine out loud, your body bumping into his as your arms continue to battle one another.
“Jungkook!” you cry out, “Seriously?!”
You two continue to wrestle for the journal, spinning around until your feet tangle too much with his and he’s bumping into your bed, he falls over bringing you down with him.
You land on top of Jungkook, settling between his spread legs. The laughing and screaming absolutely stops when you find yourself in this position. Jungkook face is centimeters from yours, your breaths hot and fast and mingling together, he looks into your eyes with a troubled look. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes can’t help but follow his movement.
“y/n…” he whispers out, still out of breath from playing around.
You look into his eyes again and he’s gone completely dark. His pupils start blowing out and his breaths become harsher.
“Jungkook…” You say lowly, your voice even surprising you. “Oh,” you blink at him when you feel his member hardening against your core.
Jungkook gulps, as if embarrassed. His eyes dart all around the room until they’re back on you.
“Sorry I—”
“I should get up.” You whisper.
Jungkook gulps again, his spit making his Adam’s Apple bob. “Yeah.”
But you don’t move, you continue to lay on top of him, you close your eyes as you feel his dick poking you at your center. You hate yourself but you can’t help the fact that you’re breathing deeper than usual and you really hate yourself when you grind yourself rather gently into Jungkook’s crotch.
And you really hate yourself when you hear Jungkook fucking moan. A real life moan escapes his parted lips. Your eyes shoot open to see his screwed shut. He lightly thrusts upward in response, his strained cock hitting your clit just right that you whimper out. You immediately throw your hand over your mouth and regret everything until Jungkook moans again.
Fuck, what do you do? You want to keep going and you almost do when—
“Honey! We’re home!”
You quickly scramble off Jungkook and stand to your feet. Fuck, your parents are home.
Jungkook awkwardly stands up and tries to adjust his pants so his fucking boner isn’t totally visible. He does not want to meet your parents with a fucking boner. No way in hell. He’s got to think of gross things. Diarrhea. Yeah, he will think of people shitting themselves, that’s pretty gross.
“Coming!” you yell out. You smooth down your clothes and your hair and turn to face Jungkook. “Ready?”
He smiles kind of awkwardly but nods his head yes regardless.
You two exit the bedroom and head down the stairs, your parents waiting at the bottom.
“If it isn’t my pain in the ass?” your mother’s jolly laugh fills the room as she goes in to embrace you.
“Hi mom.” You say into her neck, you can smell her sweet perfume and it reminds you of home times a million.
“You mean your miracle baby! Our miracle baby!” your dad chimes in gleefully, going in to hug both you and your mom.
“It’s a miracle she hasn’t killed me yet.” Your mother comments playfully, “Going a whole half year without seeing her mother?”
“It has been since May hasn’t it?” Your dad asks. “Too long.”
“And you must be Jungkook! The boy our daughter ditched us for on Christmas!” your mom pushes you to the side and goes in to hug Jungkook.
He stumbles back in surprise, but wraps his arms around your mother with his bunny grin plastered on his face.
“That’s me.” He laughs.
“Next time, just come here for Christmas, okay?” Your mom pouts playfully.
“Now, that’s not a bad idea.” Your father cuts in, extending his hand out for Jungkook to shake.
“Nice to meet you Mr.y/L/n.” Jungkook goes in to shake his hand with a firm hold, “and of course you too Mrs.y/L/n. “ Jungkook smiles in her direction.
“My goodness,” your mother swoons, “You’re so handsome!” then she turns to you, “He’s so handsome y/n. How haven’t you snagged him yet?”
“You two aren’t already a couple?” your father adds in.
“Mom! Dad! No!” you run a hand through your hair, “I told you already a million times on the phone, we are friends. Best friends.”
“That’s too bad…” your mom says, “I would like him for a son in law.”
“Yes, it’s too bad.” Your dad continues where she is going, “He’s got a firm handshake.”
“You guys don’t even know him.” you deadpan.
Jungkook only chuckles as he watches you interact with your parents. He wishes he had this kind of relationship with his parents but he’s glad you do.
“Are you guys ready for dinner or what?” Your mom picks up the bag of food off the entry way table and brings it to her nose, “Smells delicious.” She sings with a smile.
“Lets eat honey.” Your dad gestures your mom to the kitchen and then gives you and Jungkook a wink. “Come on kids.”
You didn’t know coming home would feel this good. Just being in the same room as your parents makes you feel whole again. Talking on the phone every week just isn’t enough.
You and Jungkook set up the table as your parents start taking the food out of the bag, they place it in the center of the table and your greedy little hands can’t help but pick at the side dishes.
“Hungry?” Jungkook teases.
“Starved.” You respond.
“Well, let’s all sit down and dig in!” Your father pulls out a chair for your mother so she can sit, ever the gentleman.
The food is delicious. You really wanted your moms home cooking but she promised you that’s for tomorrow night. You eat to your hearts content, getting so full. You’re not just full of food but full of your parents love and joy. Jungkook laughs along to your mom and dad’s stories and even shares some of his own. You guys talked about your group of friends and how you’re each others support systems.
Your parents are ecstatic to hear you have such great friends where you live, they even promise to go visit you soon so they can happily meet everyone. You agree wholeheartedly and stuff your face with more food. The night goes on like this for quite some time, everyone yawning but no one wanting to go to sleep.
“Let’s clean up and take this party to the living room.” Your mom suggests.
“I’ll clean up mom.”
“Me too.” Jungkook offers as well.
“Good kids.” Your dad says with a chuckle and heads to his designated spot (The recliner in the living room.)
“Are you having fun?” You ask Jungkook once your parents are out of the kitchen.
“I’m having a really nice time y/n.” Jungkook blushes as he answers, he fucking blushes and you feel the heat creep up your cheeks as well.
“I told you, you had nothing to be nervous about.”
“I’m still nervous, to be honest. But it feels nice actually.” He admit, his blush only deepening.
You two reach for the drying towel at the same time, your fingers brushing against his and you feel a spark of electricity.
“Sorry.” You sputter out, “You take it.”
“Okay…” Jungkook feels his face get even more red, just brushing fingers with you making him feel hot and dizzy.
“I think it’s clean enough,” you wipe your hands dry on your jeans, “Let’s go.”
The living room is as cozy as you have always remembered it to be. The recliner that your dad always falls asleep in is in the same spot as always, the two love seats taking one corner of the room and the TV on the center of the back wall. You decide to sit next to your mom on one of the love seats, you immediately drop your head on to her shoulder and breathe her in.
“What’s wrong my miracle?” she asks softly. “What’s going on?”
You suck in a sharp breath and start sniffling. Yup, you have decided on being a baby.
“I—” Your eyes immediately water and you give your mom a pathetic look, “I don’t know what I am doing with my life.”
Jungkook watches you and he frowns, he wishes he had all the answers for you.
“Oh baby,” your mom cradles your head, “I’m an old woman and even I have thoughts like that.” She laughs. “You’re going to figure it out, even if it’s not right now.”
“How do you know?” you look up at her with snot running down your nose.
“Do you remember when you were in high school you went from being in the drama club to the art club to the debate team to the…god, who knows what? You just kept jumping from one thing to another but then you finally found what you liked. Which was, swimming right?” She rubs your back soothingly, “It just takes time.” She says, “Maybe right now you’re just in the ‘art club’ part of your life. You still need to experience other clubs and teams until you find your swimming.”
“Mom…” you cry, “Thank you.”
“Your mother is right,” your dad decides to jump in “And whatever you decide we will be there cheering you on.”
Jungkook feels his heart swell. Watching you with your parents has been nothing but an amazing experience so far. He doesn’t feel bitter that he didn’t have this sort of relationship, instead he wishes he could have it even with someone like your parents.
“Now go sit with your bestie, he looks lonely over there by himself on the other couch.” Your mom scolds you lightly. You hug her tightly before letting go and walking to where Jungkook is.
You sit right next to him, not leaving any space—your knees and shoulders rubbing against one another quite innocently.
“So Jungkook,” Your father begins, “tell us about your family.”
You feel yourself go tense at the mention of Jungkook’s family. What will he say? Or will he say anything at all? “Mom’s not with us anymore.” He smiles softly, “And I don’t talk to my dad.”
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” your mom places a hand over her heart.
“Sorry to hear about that, son.” Your dad shares a look of pity with your mom.
Jungkook on the other hand lights up when he hears your dad call him ‘son’.
“It’s okay.” Jungkook smiles, “I have y/n and Jimin and the rest of the guys.”
“And you have us too, sweetie.” Your mom cuts in. “We were serious about Christmas, why don’t you two come here?”
“Mom—”
“I’d like that.” Jungkook looks at your for approval, “It sounds nice, right y/n?”
You feel your heart begin to glow.
“Yeah.” You yawn out. “It does.” You lay your head on his shoulder and he wraps an arm around your waist. You miss the way your parents share a knowing look as they watch you two.
“We weren’t supposed to have any children…” Your mom starts to say, “She really was our little miracle.” She comes down into a whisper as she notices you starting to doze off.
“She’s our pride and joy.” Your father beams.
“I’m glad she isn’t lonely. Growing up, we were so worried she would become a lonely only child, but she had lots of cousins thankfully and she always had it easy when making friends.” Your mother smiles as she recalls little you.
“She’s so special, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook looks down at your sleeping face, he smiles shyly and caresses your cheek. “She is.”
Your parents share another knowing look and grin.
“When did you realize she was so special?” your father crosses a leg over the other.
“About the time she ditched you guys for me.” Jungkook’s looks at them and smiles cheekily.
Your mother and father laugh loudly, waking you from your quick nap.
“What’s so funny?” you ask groggily, you kind of drooled on yourself and Jungkook’s shoulder. You wipe at the corner of your mouth and mutter an apology to Jungkook for wetting his shirt. He only giggles at you and pats your head.
“Maybe you two should head to bed for some rest, hm?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
You and Jungkook agree with your parents, standing from your place on the love seat and say your goodnight’s.
“Goodnight sweetie.” Your dad goes in to hug you, “Sleep well.”
“Night dad, night mom.”
“Goodnight Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”
“Night kiddos.”
Jungkook follows you up the stairs as he enters deep thought mode. He has only spent one day with you and your parents but he feels like he has fallen in love all over again. His love for you deepening by the minute, the way it blossoms like a beautiful, enchanted flower. The petals are bright, colorful and full of life. Nothing, he means nothing can shrivel up this rose. It is enchanted after all.
You stand outside your door, waiting for Jungkook to finish his journey up the stairs. When he finally makes it to the top he walks to you, standing outside your bedroom door.
“Goodnight Jungkook.” You whisper out, a blush painting itself on your cheeks.
“Tonight was nice.” He says instead of ‘goodnight’.
“Yeah, I think my parents like you a lot.”
“And I like them a lot. I felt…so…at home.” He admits, his soft breath hitting your lips and you breathe out heavily.
“I’m glad.”
“I like you when you’re with your parents.”
“You like me?” You tease, and Jungkook goes as red as a fucking tomato.
“Like, like—”
“Chill, I know what you mean.”
Jungkook scratches the back of his neck and huffs out, “Right.”
“I like you around my parents too.” You lean back on the bedroom door, and Jungkook steps closer to you.
“You like me?” he teases back and you blush even harder.
“I just mean, it’s cute seeing you nervous and flustered for once.” You say.
“I’m cute?” Jungkook takes another step towards you, backing you even further into the door.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do I though?” he leans his head towards your face, his lips hovering over your left ear and he whispers…
“I won’t tell anyone you find me cute y/n.” he continues his teasing. He leans back and watches as your face goes unbelievably red.
“Shush.” You push his hard chest back and he darkly chuckles. “It’s not like you don’t find me cute as well.”
“Oh baby, I find you very, very cute” he leans in again and you scoff, giggling to yourself.
Jungkook chuckles as well, he feels himself growing hotter by the second, he pushes you back more into the door and he reaches for the doorknob and opens it, but catches you from falling inside.
“Let’s go inside.” He says lowly. “Wanna keep being with you.”
“Jungkook,” you whine, “I’m sleepy.”
“I can watch you sleep.” He teases and you cringe.
“That’s creepy!” you laugh, you two set foot inside the room and you close the door behind you guys. “But maybe we can chat for a little bit.”
“Hey!” Jungkook juts his lip out, “It’s not creepy, I just really—” love you, he wants to say. But he doesn’t have the courage but god, Jimin is right. When will he have the courage?
“Really what?” you ask innocently.
“It’s nothing.” He says. “Anyway, let’s sit.” He plops his fine ass on the edge of your childhood bed—a twin bed. You sit down next to him and you lean back until your back is laying against the soft mattress. Jungkook follows you, laying down as well.
“Thanks for making me feel like I’m a part of your family y/n.”
“You are a part of my family Jungkook.” You whisper to him and he flips on his side to get a look at your face.
“Your parents are awesome.” He chuckles.
You playfully roll your eyes and smile, “Yeah, they’re something.”
“They want you to bring home a boyfriend.”
“Too bad all they got is you.”
“Yeah, too bad.” Jungkook grins at you, he lifts his hand to your face and caresses your cheek. “You’re so pretty. I wasn’t lying…I do find you very, very cute” he says softly and you fucking melt. You sigh out and he leans in closer, you aren’t entirely sure but it feels like he’s about to kiss you.
He leans in so close until he’s raising his face just a bit and he kisses the top of your forehead.
“I think I’ll go to bed now.” He whispers.
“Wait—” You grab on to the material of his sweater, accidentally bringing him too close to you, his mouth bumping into yours.
You immediately begin to panic, your eyes shoot to Jungkook’s and he looks as surprised as you. He is silent for far too many moments until his eyes crinkle and he’s laughing, his bunny teeth on full display.
“Oops.” He says, still laughing.
“I am so sorry, oh my god.” You get up slightly, leaning on your elbows. “That was an accident.”
“Well,” Jungkook brings his fingers to his lips, “It’s not the worst thing that could happen.” He says, his shy tone making you melt all over again.
“Sorry again, wow.”
Jungkook stands from the bed and you follow his lead, walking him towards the bedroom door.
“Goodnight Jungkook.”
This is it. The moment Jimin was talking about. A moment where he can have courage.
“y/n…I just…can I tell you something…?”
“What is it?” you raise a curious brow.
Jungkook looks into your eyes for several moments, taking long, deep breaths.
“I love you.” He finally admits, after years of keeping that to himself he finally told you he loves you. He loves you with all his fucking heart, he loves you more than anyone else in his entire life. He loves you. This? This is courage.
“Huh? I love you too, JK.” You give him a weird look and laugh. “Goodnight.” And you shut the door.
“No, I…”
Was he not clear?
“I love you y/n…” he whispers to himself, “Like, really really love you.” He says to no one but the ghosts that haunt this house.
“Goodnight y/n.”
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nev3rfound · 4 years
Text
someone i once knew : b.b
bucky is left alone in the compound whilst the rest of the avengers are sent on a mission. yet, to bucky’s surprise he isn’t alone as he’s about to meet tony’s new assistant and someone from his past. (3.4k)
(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)
masterlist / permanent taglist
(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)
PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX
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“You sure you’ll manage on your own?” Steve asks as he walks alongside Bucky.
Bucky quirks a brow at his oldest friend. “What, you don’t trust me?” He quips back, hearing Sam let out a dry laugh from the quinjet as he helps load the last of the supplies. “He doesn’t get an opinion.” Bucky adds, and Steve chuckles under his breath.
“I do trust you, Buck. But I just wanna make sure you’re okay being on your own here.” Steve explains, crossing his arms as Bucky buries his hands into his jacket pockets.
It was going to be Bucky’s first time being completely alone in the compound. Everyone else was required for a mission, and Bucky simply wasn’t needed this time. Initially, it stung a little- that Sam was going over him, but some downtime never hurt anyone, right?
“I’ll be alright, Steve.” Bucky states as Tony emerges from the elevator, huffing loudly as he looks at his phone.
“Oh, tin man? Do me a favour and don’t scare my new assistant,” Tony calls out, and Bucky looks to Steve who simply shrugs his shoulders.
“Since when did you hire an assistant?” Steve asks, and Tony stops beside them, locking his phone as he puts it into his pocket.
“Since I lost the last one,” Tony retorts.
“You married your old assistant, Tony.” Bucky comments and Tony simply rolls his eyes.
“Just, don’t scare her off, she has potential.” Tony remarks before carrying on toward the Quinjet, leaving Steve to bid farewell to Bucky.
Stepping back, Bucky rolls on his heels. “Guess I won’t be completely alone after all.” Bucky huffs. It is one thing to be alone in the compound with one of the other Avengers, but someone he hasn’t even met yet, that’s a level of confidence and comfortability he has yet to reach.
“Hey,” Steve pats Bucky’s shoulder. “you’ll be fine, just be your charming self.”
“I think he died back in the forties, pal.” Bucky mutters as he shrugs it off, it’s only for a few weeks at most.
“Just, don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve says softly as he steps back from Bucky, turning around toward the Quinjet.
Shuffling on the spot, Bucky watches as they leave. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky mumbles to himself as he walks back into the compound, wandering whereabouts his company for the next few weeks is hiding out.
*
It had been a quiet few days and Bucky had still yet to meet the newest addition to Starks team and started to wonder if Tony was messing with him for the fun of it.
At least, he thought as much until he was training in the gym when the faint sound of the piano caught his attention.
Pausing his work out, Bucky couldn’t stop his curiosity from getting the better of him as he exits the gym, hearing a familiar melody clearly coming from the shared living space in the compound.
As stealthily as possible, Bucky enters the open space and can make out a figure sat at the usually absent grand piano. Tony purchased it a year ago to fill the space, even though no one could play, it did work in making the compound look somewhat homely.
Stepping further into the room, Bucky knew the song, his Mother always played it on her radio and witnessed her and his Father dancing to it.
Humming the tune, you remain oblivious to the company creeping into the room as you remain concealed by the bonnet of the piano.
“Wake and dream medley?” Bucky speaks up, and you jump in your seat, hitting the keys of the piano causing an awful blunt sound to echo in the open space. “Sorry,” Bucky adds, now retreating into himself as you remain hidden. “I, I could hear you from the gym, I love, loved that song.”
“No need to apologise,” You chuckle, and Bucky tenses upon hearing your voice.
It sounds so familiar, too familiar for his liking.
Rising to your feet, you rub your hands together before closing the bonnet of the piano, now in full view to Bucky who can feel his whole body shutting down.
Bucky steps back in disbelief, clinging onto the sofa behind him with all his might as you hesitantly step forward. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, Mr Stark had me doing a fair bit of paperwork so I’ve been holed up in my suite for the past few days.” You explain, but Bucky can’t seem to meet your gaze. “I’m Y/n,”
You extend your arm, holding your hand out to Bucky who stares in disbelief.
“Is this some kinda cruel joke?” Bucky questions, slowly looking up at your confused expression. “Y/n, is it really you?” He stares at you, but your confusion only deepens as you lower your arm back to your side.
“Are you alright?” You ask, but Bucky continues to eye you with evident shock. “Have we met before?”
A dry laugh leaves Bucky’s lips as he straightens himself up. “Do you not know me?” His voice is breaking as you shake your head, and Bucky can feel the moment of relief in his heartbreak once again.
“I’m sorry, you must have me mistaken with someone else?” You nervously laugh, trying to ease the tension in the room.
Bucky simply nods and straightens himself up. “I’m Bucky, Bucky Barnes. And I do apologise for that, you just remind me of an old friend.” Bucky brushes it off, knowing it’s not possible, it just can’t be.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Bucky,” You tell him with a smile, one that Bucky once knew and loved, but he forces himself to remove that thought, it isn’t her. “the song I, I guess it was from your time?” You ask, moving back over to the piano and opening the bonnet.
“Yeah,” Bucky walks over, leaning against it as you take a seat, resuming the melody as if you had never paused. “I remember it growing up. How come you know it?”
Your fingers glide over the keys effortlessly and your eyes close for a moment. Whilst they’re closed, Bucky takes the chance to look at you properly, noting your distinct features, identical to the girl he once knew.
“I’m not sure,” You admit, lifting your fingers from the keys as you glance up at Bucky. “I, I just do.” Your brows furrow together, and Bucky notes how you look back at the piano.
“Well, it’s a nice song, so thank you for playing it.” Bucky speaks up. “I’ll be around, so I’ll be seeing you.” He mutters before exiting the room and rushes back to the gym, barely hearing you saying goodbye.
Once Bucky is gone, you look back at the piano. There’s no sheet music, but you knew the song, you knew the exact keys to play and the words as you hummed along.
There was something about Bucky, something amicable and undeniably so. You could feel it in the back of your mind, a nagging sensation to remember, remember something, anything. Yet, as always nothing follows through.
*
You and Bucky had been living in the compound for an entire week, and you had only come across him three times in total. The first at the piano, the second was after an attempted run; Bucky watched as you reentered the compound soaking from head to toe after being caught in a rainstorm. You tried to make a joke, but Bucky merely grumbled and walked off in the opposite direction. And the third well, that was this morning.
The smell of burnt toast woke you up, and you rushed from your suite to the shared floor where the kitchen is located.
“Stupid toaster,” Bucky groans under his breath as he throws the toast into the bin, slamming the lid shut with his metal hand, nearly leaving an indent.
“You alright there?” Your voice is so soft, and Bucky can feel the tension between his shoulders ease.
Lifting his metal arm up, Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just got distracted.” He shrugs as he turns around to look at you in your pyjamas, just a t-shirt and joggers. A lot more casual than the girl he remembers in the forties.
“Happens to the best of us,” You joke, moving past him to grab a mug. “want one?” You hold a second mug up, and Bucky nods.
He remains quiet as you pour him a cup and slide it across the counter to him. “Look alive!” You call out, and he grasps it firmly.
Silence falls between you both as you look over your shoulder to see Bucky holding the mug in his metal fingers, a distant gaze over his eyes. “Real smooth, Y/n.” Bucky eventually speaks up, followed by a short laugh as he raises the mug to his lips.
“I’ve never done that before,” You admit, now leaning against the counter.
Laughter fills the bar as soldiers pass through with open arms and cheers for a new day. “Hey, look alive!” You yell as you slide across a bottle of beer to the brunette soldier.
“Thanks, Y/n.” His bright blue eyes focus on yours as he winks before patting his blond friend on the shoulder and walks closer toward you, yet the closer he gets, the more blurred he becomes. “Y-”
“Y/n?” Bucky calls out, snapping you from your thoughts. “You in there?”
“Sorry,” You look up from your mug, forcing a small smile. “got a bit lost in my head for a moment.” You mutter. “I, I’m going to go get ready.” You sip at your coffee and head out from the kitchen, leaving Bucky perplexed as he hears you running and swearing from in the hallway towards the elevator.
So, your encounters with Bucky haven’t exactly been the best. Yet, there’s something about him that you’re drawn to but scared of. His cool exterior doesn’t intimidate you, you know his history, you know all of the Avengers’ history. However there is a part of you that feels like you know Bucky somehow on a deeper level than what you've read in his files.
Rushing through your suite, you gather the necessary files before heading out to the elevator. You knew you shouldn’t have left it to the last minute to get the meeting scheduled.
As the metal doors open, Bucky steps aside, his blue eyes focused on his feet. “Which floor?” He asks.
“Two, please.” You respond, and silence ensues over you both.
It was becoming harder and harder for Bucky to not see the Y/n he once knew in you, this version of her or a copy. You twitched your nose the same way when you laughed, your hair smells like vanilla and you add small quirks to the same words.
“Y/n, do you ever have the feeling that you’ve met someone, in a previous life?” Bucky asks out of the blue, taking you by surprise.
“I, er,” You stumble over your words as you reach level two. “I’ll get back to you on that one, Bucky.” You tell him before exiting the elevator and carry on rushing to the conference room for your meeting with Pepper.
“Thought as such.” Bucky sighs as the doors close, leaving him alone with his memories of you once more.
*
“What’re you doing up here? You’ll freeze!” You laugh giddily as you wrap your arms around yourself, seeing Bucky sat with a blanket draped over his shoulders despite the early spring chill.
“I’ve endured worse, doll.” It rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, his treasured nickname for his girl.
Yet, you smile at the nickname, swearing you’ve heard it before. You contemplate a response, but leave it and walk closer, sitting beside Bucky.
“So, what are you doing up here? Am I that bad?” You nudge him playfully and without a second thought, Bucky lifts the blanket up, allowing you to curl into the soft fabric for much-needed warmth.
“You never could be, Y/n, trust me.” Bucky sighs sadly as he looks up to the stars, aware of you studying him closely, your eyes burning into each of his features. “I’m sorry if I’ve acted a little off this past week, I, I’m still adjusting to well, everything.” Bucky tries to ease his growing nerves as you scoot closer, the fragrance of your perfume encroaching into his nostrils like old times.
“You’ve been just fine, Bucky.” You reassure him as a faint smile forms on his lips.
“I’d know if you’re lyin’ to me, doll.” Bucky turns to face you, kneeling down as you cross your arms playfully, refusing to speak up. “Well, I guess you leave me no choice.” He mutters, and before you can react his hands grab your hips and he starts tickling you senselessly.
“Calm down, soldier!” You laugh happily. “Will you stop?!” You breathe out as his hands rise further up from your waist, pausing as he holds your face, smiling smugly to you, knowing you were truly hooked.
“So, I was just fine then, doll?” Bucky raises a brow as you nod, his hands bringing you closer as he breathes out a sigh into your lips. “Well, I guess I’ve got a few things to work on.”
“That you do mister.” You mutter before kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck as hollers from across the road sound, and the faint call of your name interrupts you once more.
“Y/n?” Bucky nudges you, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you okay? You went all quiet on me for a minute.” He half laughs, seeing tears forming in your eyes as you shake your head.
“I, I’m not.” You admit, letting the tears fall. “I, you asked me earlier about feeling as if you’ve met someone in another life,” You trail off, seeing Bucky nod.
“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, feeling the remaining strings attached to his heart hoist it up, hoping they won’t fray at this final attempt. “it was dumb, I know.” He brushes it off.
“No, it’s not.” You tell him defiantly. “I, I keep having these memories of sorts, but I can’t make out any faces.” You rub your eyes. “Every day there’s this nagging sensation to remember something, to recognise someone I believe I knew, like there's this guy and I think he's someone I’m meant to know.” You explain, and Bucky can feel the restraints in his heart tightening, the cogs in your brain now turning.
“I know the feeling,” Bucky comments. “when HYDRA had me, they wiped my mind of everything, any memories of my life before and brainwashed me into their weapon. It’s kinda funny really, it was all still in there, and it slowly started to come back.”
“How did you know which memories were real?” Your voice softens as you home in on his blue eyes, watching as they twitch under your gaze. “Like, which weren’t misconstrued.”
Bucky shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, I just, I do.” He murmurs. “So, this guy, what’s he like?” Bucky changes the subject as a smile forms on his lips as you laugh lightly.
“I wish I knew,” A light shiver crosses your body, and Bucky pulls the blanket off of him, wrapping it around you. “he’s just, this amazing guy who, who is funny, and caring. I have these snippets of what I believe was our life together, but it doesn’t make any sense.” You ramble, trying your best to comprehend everything.
“Take your time.” Bucky reassures you.
“These ‘memories’ I’m having, they take place in the past- that much I know. But I know my life, I know the year I was born, I have memories of my childhood and I know my family.” You explain, feeling your eyes welling up with tears as your frustration and confusion increases. “How can I have memories of a life I’ve never lived?”
"Maybe you can." Whistling into the breeze, Bucky shuffles and turns to face you. “Try and focus on one detail, okay? Do you trust me?”
You search his eyes for any uncertainty, and you nod in response.
“Close your eyes.” Bucky whispers, and you oblige. “Think of him, think about any details that you have relived, any conversations or scenery you noticed.” Bucky suggests, trying his hardest to not reach out and take your hand in his.
Keeping your eyes closed, you try to focus on his face, hear his voice, but it’s all too much of a blur. “It’s no use.” You sigh, burying your face in your hands. “I just, I know if I ever saw him again or met him somehow, I’d know who he was.” You mumble into your palms, unaware of Bucky tearing his eyes from you, the ropes pulling his heart snapping for good, now beyond repair.
“You’ll find him, Y/n.” Bucky pats your back, hearing you sniffle.
“You think?” You ask, lifting your head back up as you half-smile to Bucky who nods.
“I’m sure of it.” He forces a smile, but you can tell it’s not reaching his eyes.
“Thanks, Bucky." Silence falls between you both, stifling the cool air. "I, I better go in before I catch a cold.” You rise to your feet, removing the blanket and hand it back to him. “Can’t have Mr Stark complaining about me coughing senselessly on a conference call.” A light laugh escapes your lips as you wave to Bucky before heading back inside.
As the door closes behind you, Bucky blankly stares out at the sky. “Oh, doll.” Bucky pleads to the stars. “Please remember.”
Now back on your floor, tears freely cascade down your cheeks as you sob into your hand, barely able to reach your door before you fall to the ground. “Come on,” You cry, feeling snippets of memories colliding together of the childhood you knew versus one you don’t recall, two boys by your side at all times.
Forcing yourself to your feet, you shut the door to your suite behind you, hearing laughter echo in your mind.
“Steve! Stop, I need to keep my dress clean!” You plead, looking down at the splashes of mud coating the hem of your dress.
“I warned you, punk.” Bucky sighs, hitting Steve over the back of the head with the newspaper. “You still look beautiful, Y/n.” Bucky winks to you, watching as you roll your eyes in response.
“Thanks, James.” You mutter, ignoring the burning of your cheeks as you reach your front steps. “I’ll see you boys later, seven still good?” You ask, looking between the pair as they nod. “Okay, well, don’t get in too much trouble without me.” You chuckle before turning on your heels and head up the front steps, unlocking your front door as the radio plays faintly.
“James?” You whisper to yourself, rushing over to the nearest mirror. “My name is Y/n Y/l/n. I am twenty-four years old. This is my home. My parents are Y/M/N and Y/D/N.” You recite, staring at yourself in the mirror. “This is who you are.”
Running your fingers through your hair, you step away from your mirror and fall into your bed.
“Ms Y/l/n?” FRIDAY calls out, and you quickly sit upright.
“Yes, FRIDAY?”
“Tony is calling you, would you like to answer?” The AI asks, and you groan into your pillow, it’s not like you couldn’t answer your employer.
“Sure, FRIDAY.” You reply, reaching over for your phone and answer the call from Tony. “Hey Mr Stark, how’s the mission going?” You feign positivity as you force a bright smile. Even if Tony cannot see you, the walls have eyes.
“Hey, Y/n, I told you before, call me Tony. We’re on our way back now, I just wanted to make sure the tin man hasn’t been causing you any trouble.” Tony asks, moving away from other voices in the background.
Your eyes rise to your closed door, picturing Bucky mere minutes ago by your side, trying to help you remember him, James Buchanan Barnes, your James.
“Jam-” You cut yourself off and move the phone away from your ear, allowing a moment to compose yourself for your boss. “Bucky’s been fine, I promise Mr, sorry, Tony.” You chuckle uneasily, but Tony doesn’t question it.
“Well good to hear, listen we’ll be back in an hour, and you can meet the rest of the team in the morning. Get some rest, Y/n.” Tony tells you and hangs up before you can respond, leaving you alone once more with the impending thoughts weighing heavy in your mind.
“This is who you are.” You repeat like a mantra as you lie back down in your bed, wishing tomorrow would never come.
P A R T  T W O 
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blackwoolncrown · 4 years
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”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.
But enough is enough.
The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.
American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”
>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<
WHY AM I WRITING THIS
As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.
I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.
One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.
YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS
I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?
No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.
See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.
Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.
If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.
We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.
I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.
In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.
And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.
None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.
This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.
BASTARD 101
I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.
Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.
I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.
To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:
“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”
Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.
When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.
Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.
One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.
This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”
I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.
Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.
HOW TO BE A BASTARD
I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.
Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.
Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.
Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.
Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.
Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.
Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.
Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.
Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.
Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.
Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.
Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.
Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.
Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.
Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.
Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.
Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.
A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.
A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.
A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.
If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.
Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.
Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.
I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.
Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:
Do
not
fucking
talk
to
cops.
Ever.
Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.
DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?
Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.
During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.
The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.
It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.
And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?
To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.
Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.
HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?
So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:
Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.
Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.
More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.
Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.
Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:
No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.
No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.
Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.
Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.
Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.
One final idea: consider abolishing the police.
I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.
I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.
What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.
You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.
This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.
Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?
Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?
Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.
Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.
Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:
“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”
(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)
I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.
A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE
If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:
When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?
When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?
When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?
And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.
Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?
If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.
RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH
Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics
Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?
CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit
Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?
Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]
5K notes · View notes
chouhatsumimi · 3 years
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Hi! I am trying to become a japanese to English (& vice versa) translator. I can't find any sources to check the English to Japanese translation. It is difficult to get which grammar must be used since I am not a japanese native and don't know any natives to ask either. I have studied till N2 level but have no experience and must start freelancing to get experience so I need to figure out how to translate on my own. I can only use free translation software but I am not sure about it's reliability. I have seen questionable translations when it's for Japanese to English. Do think you can give any suggestions or anything that might be helpful?
Hi! I did put in a little time searching for the kind of tools you might have had in mind.
It seems that there are many that function in the exact same way but have different interfaces. Here are two of them. Many others can be found by searching "日本語文章校正ツール" or similar keywords. https://dw230.jp/kousei/
https://so-zou.jp/web-app/text/proofreading/
While they can point out some things to look out for, from the testing I did with them, they overlooked some pretty obvious errors, while also catching some things that I couldn't figure out why it thought it was wrong/sounded bad, or how to fix it.
There was one more I found that I didn't try, because it involves downloading software. This page explains the software, and another page on the site offers the download. The webpage is sponsored by a university, so I think it's safe to assume its trustworthy, but it might be a hassle and I can't say for sure if it works.
https://www.pawel.jp/outline_of_tools/tomarigi/
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That said, it's most common for translators to work from one language INTO their native language. While interpreters often have to go both directions (J <--> E), translators typically work either (J -> E) [English native speakers] OR (E -> J) [Japanese native speakers]. If you grew up bilingual, maybe you can translate both ways. But if English is your native language and you learned Japanese as a second language (which is true of my situation), it's pretty much not going to be worth bothering to do E->J translation, unless there are extenuating circumstances. The reasons for this are 1) You can't be sure that the translation you produce reads smoothly or is error-free 2) While you might think, but yes, if I do a really thorough check and compare it against native Japanese examples, I can be pretty darn sure it's perfect, the amount of time it takes you to do that is not going to be cost-effective. Like anything else, people purchasing translation as a service usually want the end result to be done well, in a timely manner, and as cheaply as possible, so it doesn't make sense to hire you for E -> J when they could hire a native Japanese speaking translator, or send their work to an agency to find that translator for them.
If you ARE translating into Japanese and are not a native speaker of Japanese, it is a good idea to have a fellow translator who has the opposite native language you do (in this case Japanese & English), and ask them to check it over for you (which, considering that's part of their job, you'd probably pay a small fee for). They could do the same to have you proofread their translations into English. Some translators consult friends/spouses, etc., but I think this can get old for them sometimes, so it's advisable not to rely on them for your job. You mentioned not having any native speakers to ask right now, but this is still an idea you can file away for in the future when you meet more people and get to know other translators.
In short, if you're aiming to become a translator working with Japanese but are not a native Japanese speaker, don't worry about translating into Japanese. Just focus on translating from Japanese into your native language.
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Translation software: let me make a distinction here between "machine translation" and "CAT [computer aided translation] tools".
Machine translation is Google Translate, DeepL, anything like that. There are times when they work well, but particularly with a language like Japanese that likes to imply a lot of information instead of stating it directly (such as who is doing the action described in the sentence), they're pretty much always going to miss something. In any situation that someone is looking to pay a translator to do work, it's because they already know machine translation won't cut it. One thing that's becoming more common is MTPE (machine translation post editing), where a translator "fixes" what's wrong with a machine translation (or more often than not, just re-translates it from scratch because what the machine came up with is mostly useless).
CAT tools, on the other hand, are widely used by translators. Paid CAT tools such as Trados, MemoQ, Memsource, etc. can be very expensive, and are often provided by a translation agency to their translators. (Also, most of them require a PC operating system.) There's more I could say, but since I haven't been in any situations that require them, I don't have any personal experience. I do have experience using OmegaT (free, works on Mac) and Felix (free, I use it on Windows). They both take a little tinkering to figure out how to use effectively, but basically what they do is, once you've translated a segment of text, they store the original segment and the translated segment, and for each new segment you go to translate, the CAT tool compares it to segments that you've previously translated to see if you can re-use any of what you came up with before. They can also have a built-in dictionary function, but that's basically just having your typical web-based dictionary but more automatically and in a more convenient location.
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For going into freelancing, I have a few recommendations.
Apart from CAT tools, some resources that I refer to frequently are http://nihongo.monash.edu/cgi-bin/wwwjdic?9T (basically looks up all the words in a sentence at once), http://thejadednetwork.com/sfx/ (if you're doing anything with sound effects, like manga), https://tsukubawebcorpus.jp//search/ (this is a corpus, I have another post on how to use it -here-, it's probably going to be your best bet when it comes to checking grammar), https://books.google.com/ngrams (for when it comes to figuring out what turns of phrase are commonly used in English), and https://yomikatawa.com/ (for figuring out the readings of names in Japanese, though there are other sites that work similarly).
When it comes to practicing, contests are a good place to start. The two I know of now are run by JAT in October (https://jat.org/events/contests) and JLPP deadline of 7/31 (and they're long, so it's probably too late for this year unless you're free between now and then: https://www.jlpp.go.jp/en/competition6/competition6en.html ) You can also practicing doing translations for fun. Any kind of media you enjoy (manga, video games, variety shows, newspaper articles) is a good target for doing a practice translation. Just be wary that it's not a good idea to post your translation in a public location on the internet, because it could be infringing copyright/licensing agreements, etc. Finally, there are websites like Gengo, Conyac, Fiverr and others where you can do gig translation work. They can be useful for practice, but also have the pitfall of paying, like, 5% of the rate you should be getting. This is an ongoing debate because on one hand, you can get practice while still getting a little money for it, but on the other hand, if customers can get people to do that work for 5% of a livable wage, that makes it harder for aspiring and working translators to find enough work that pays well enough to support themselves doing only translation for a living. Entertainment (primarily manga) scanlation groups also a significant enough force to merit a mention here- many aspiring entertainment translators find themselves a part of such a group. Practice is practice and developing your skills is important, but they also have many many of the same problems associated with them as I mentioned above, namely infringing on copyright and contributing to the inability of anyone to turn entertainment translation into a livable full-time job.
Another recommendation I have is to join some J/E translation-focused groups. This page lists a number of them: https://shinpaideshou.com/translation/ I can personally vouch for JAT as I am a member and I got my current job by being part of their directory. They run an online training program (eJuku) once a year around April, and applications only stay open for a few days, so if you're interested make sure you keep your eye out. Another one not listed on that page is https://swet.jp/ which is not entirely about translation, but it is heavily related and they host some good events. Twitter is also a very good place to be if you're getting into J/E translation. I prefer to keep my tumblr and twitter separate but if you DM me, I can give you my handle so you can see who I follow and who among that seems worth following to you.
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In closing, I see you say "I have studied till N2 level but have no experience and must start freelancing to get experience so I need to figure out how to translate on my own." I'd say, give yourself some time. Even at N1 there's still going to be a lot you don't understand (or at least there was for me, that's why I started this langblr). I'm sure there are differences in our situations, but it was about five years ago for me that I started diving into translation- I think I was between N2 and N1 then. I've done a lot of translating and gotten a lot of experience since then, but I also have and am experiencing a lot of burnout. (In fact, I'm procrastinating right now by answering this....) Many translators have a job and translate on the side, and it's also common to gain experience with a company or agency before diving into supporting yourself on freelance work. I'd encourage you to take a breath, get experience when and where you can, and remember that if you keep at it long enough, you're sure to get there- just don't wear yourself out or worry to death in the meantime!
OH and definitely keep track of what projects you do, how long they are, and how long it takes you to do them! Knowing your speed is important when it comes to setting your working rates. I am always doubting these, and they differ from person to person, but my current estimates are that I can do 600 moji (Japanese characters) per hour, ~10 min. of audio per hour, and I try to aim for $45~$60 per hour. Generally the lowest acceptable standard rates are $0.05-$0.06 per moji and ~$5 per page of manga. You'll definitely get requests lower than that, so remember your sanity and don't be afraid to say no, there are plenty of opportunities out there!
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M.I.N.E
Request for my girl @therealmrsmbjordan​
Adonis Creed Imagine
Warnings: Smut, Fluff
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AJC Finance is a globally known and relatively large financial firm based in LA. It’s percurred so much fame and notoriety because of its black male CEO—Adonis Johnson Creed. Adonis is one of the most highly paid CEOs in financial services, ranking at number 33 with a 27 million a year earning and an employee median pay of 136,357 a year. Of course, it wasn’t easy ending up where he is today being a black man in America but it all started when he was just 21-years-old working as a stockbroker for a company called D.H. Ross, employed under a black man named Oscar Hill. He taught Adonis everything he needed to know about money and management and that a stockbroker’s only job is to make money for himself. Soon after being hired, Adonis made a small fortune with his aggressive pitching style that brought in high commissions. Soon after, he decided to leave D.H. Ross and start his own financial company—not only because he wanted to do more for himself, but because D.H. Ross was corrupt and most of the stockbrokers there lived a lifestyle of sex and drugs. 
Adonis started his own firm at the age of 25 and it earned an exposé in Forbes. Hundreds of ambitious, young financiers of different nationalities and backgrounds flocked to Adonis’ company. Adonis became immensely successful within three years, earning him 22 million a year. In the beginning not many people knew that he was the late pro-boxer, Apollo Creed’s son. That too became a scandal of sorts because no one knew that Apollo Creed had a baby outside of his marriage with Mary-Anne who he has two older children by. Mary-Anne found Adonis after finding out his mother passed and raised him as her own who eventually became her youngest headache. Many people wondered why Adonis didn’t go the boxing route but he explains that he does it more so for his enjoyment, not to follow in his father's footsteps. Adonis was at once a rich kid and a street kid, the proud carrier of an illustrious heritage and an invisible man—a complex man who aims for what he wants. Like Mary-Anne says, Adonis retains his father's fiery personality. Short-tempered and impulsive, but good-natured with a tenacity that attracts others. He’s powerful, regal-like, yet heavy on the “don’t fuck with me.”
Adonis is very intelligent, crafty with his hands, quiet and kind, which women can appreciate. He’s so handsome that women practically throw themselves at him and would do just about anything to get an opportunity. It’s not only his brain, power, and beautiful smile, it’s what he’s blessed with between his muscular thighs that makes him more sought after than pure gold. Whether he is dressed up in his expensive tailored suits and sweaters or dressed down in his Nike activewear, women are flocking either way. Dating and getting pussy was a constant for Adonis but as he’s gotten older, he has become more particular and that’s where his wife of five years, Brittany steps in. Brittany had Adonis’ nose wide open the first time he saw her when he was moving into his new apartment complex in LA—although the first encounter wasn’t a pleasant one. Adonis has a habit of playing his music loudly while boxing on his body bag. Brittany lived above him so the music was probably vibrating her floor causing her to toss and turn in her sleep. 
Bang Bang Bang 
That was the sound of her pounding on his apartment door at 1 am. Adonis flings open his door with rage at first—ready to curse out whoever thought it was a good idea to go banging on his damn door but as soon as he saw Brittany standing there with her pretty face frowning, a white camisole with no bra, and sleep shorts that had ridden up her thick thighs with bare feet and white painted toes his expression morphed into that of complete interest. From the purple satin bonnet on her head down to her toes, Adonis was openly checking her out. Ironically, G-Unit-Wanna get to know you was playing in the background from Adonis’ apartment. 
I want to get to know you
I really want to fuck you, baby
I'm lost in your lovin'
I'm simply going to drive you , crazy
I want to be your lover
I want to get to know you, baby
I'm lost in your lovin'
I'm simply going to drive you , crazy…
Adonis licked his lips and said, “What’s up?”
What’s up?
That’s what she said before she pointed into his apartment. 
What’s up is that loud ass music and this banging noise coming through my floor. I’m trying to sleep and this has been an every night thing with you since you moved in a week ago. I’ve endured it enough.
“My name is Adonis, what’s your name?” 
Everything she said completely went over his head. She blinked at him like he lost his damn mind and folded her arms across her chest. Adonis found himself following the path her arms took before they slowly ascended to meet her brown eyes that were smoldering at the moment. He was enjoying the heat she was giving off. 
Did you even pay attention to a word I said? 
“Not gonna lie, nah, I wasn’t. Forgive me for being distracted by your attire, beautiful.” 
His words seemed to throw her off and from the way Brittany  raised a single brow while really looking at Adonis for the first time, she seemed to like what she saw too. 
“Still ain’t give me that name I asked about,” Adonis walked past his door and stood in front of Brittany. She quickly admired the way his pectorals and eight pack abs popped out of his white beater before bringing her eyes to his again. 
B
“B. is that short for something?” Adonis asked before cracking a smile.
Are you going to turn your music down and stop banging your fists against the wall?
“If I tell you yes, will you tell me your name?” 
She contemplated his words before unfolding her arms, giving into his proposition. 
Yes.
“Then I’ll turn my music down, and I’ll stop using that,” Adonis steps aside and shows Brittany his body bag hanging in his wide open living room. 
Okay… I’m Brittany. 
“Are you always this mean and mouthy when you meet people for the first time, Brittany?”
That frown was back. 
“You could have asked nicely at first but instead you come banging on my door like the police.” 
Rightfully so since you’re so goddamn inconsiderate of everyone living here with your loud ass music and punching. You keep me up in the middle of the night, I bang your door. Fair trade. Goodnight.
“Wait,” Adonis was catching up to Brittany while she was just about to climb the stairs back to her place, “listen, I’m sorry that I kept you up all these nights, it won’t happen again, I promise...can I take you out to dinner to make up for all those nights?”
No, but thanks though.
Adonis didn’t like being rejected but he respectfully let her go even though in the back of his mind he planned on trying again. A few weeks had past and she shot down his advances from that time five years ago. It took for one night when Adonis spotted Brittany coming home from a night out, dressed in a sexy black slip with black heels and her hair styled in six stitch braids with a full face of soft glam makeup. She smiled at him and they talked for a bit. Adonis asked her out to dinner again and Brittany accepted. Time generously passed and rings were secured, Brittany becoming Mrs. Creed. She was there while his company became what it is today. It’s almost their fifth year anniversary and Adonis comes up with the idea of the ultimate Asia excursion. The focal point of the trip is Phuket but he wanted to visit Hong Kong, Tokyo, Bali, and Singapore. If only he could sneak away from work sooner so they could leave in his private jet. Brittany is excited and already packed for the getaway. Adonis has a few things packed but not much since work was always knocking on his door. 
____________________________________
Brittany Creed was awakened from her slumber around 7:45 am with soft, tender kisses against her cheek. The kisses were so gentle and loving that it made her shiver with anticipation for more. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer—notes of pineapple, black currant, birch, amber and musk filled her nostrils. Sexy and seductive, strong and powerful—that scent has her opening her eyes to the sight of her husband smiling down at her. Brittany licks her lips to speak but her husband's pillow soft lips crashed into hers while he pulled her closer. Brittany wrapped a single arm around Adonis’ well-built shoulders and pulled him down on top of her to increase the intensity of the kiss. 
He slowly drew his lips back to admire her wearing one of his pinstripe dress shirts on for a night gown and her silk bonnet on her head. The top few buttons of the shirt were undone and revealing smooth brown skin for him to kiss. With his lips trailing down the center of her chest, Brittany could feel him growing ridged against her inner thigh. It was so solid. His fingertips played with the opening of his dress shirt on her, the fabric brushing against her hard nipples. With a bite of her pouty bottom lip, all she could think about right now was her man undressing her further and sucking on her nipples. With the way he was pulsating against her leg he could use a release. 
“Goodmorning, Hubby.” 
Adonis looks up at her through his curled lashes, “Morning Wifey.” 
“Don’t you have to get ready for work? Hmm?” She says with a single raised brow, “I feel your dick brushing against my thigh…”
“You know how hard I get in the morning...when I roll over and see you laying next to me my shit just thickens…”
Brittany gives Adonis a few more kisses before sitting up in bed, “I know, I’ve spent plenty of mornings between your legs with it in my mouth...remember?”
“I could use a reminder, baby,” his seductive voice was almost convincing.
Right when he was about to show her just how hard he is his work cell started ringing. Adonis exhales, his forehead pressed against hers. 
“Duty calls,” Brittany says with a slight smirk even though she truly didn’t want him to go, “You could just stay home...right? I mean, we have an entire getaway planned. I'm sure the company will understand, babe.” 
“Not with how busy my schedule is today. Let’s pick this up later, Aight?”
“I’ll just wait for you...watching the hours tick by slowly,” Brittany pouts. 
“I’ll be home before you know it.”
“You’ll be too far, leaving me all alone.”
Brittany wrapped her arms around her body, the smell of his cologne still woven into the fabric of his dress shirt. It felt so smooth against her skin. Adonis sits up in bed to press the power button on his cell to mute the ringing. Standing, the view of his back all the way down to his thighs coming into view. Thank god for taking his time with him. Brittany watched Adonis walk away towards the bathroom. Stretching, Brittany stares at a chair in the room situated next to Adonis’ walk-in closet. A tailored suit for him to put on for work is already laid out. It’s a slim fit double breasted black suit with gold cufflinks, a white dress shirt and a white and black tie with a bandana pattern. His Christian Louboutin black dress shoes are neatly placed on the floor beneath the chair. 
Getting out of bed, Brittany walks to their master bathroom. Pushing open the door further, steam wafting out of the door and the long, rectangular mirror above their double sink foggy, Brittany enters the bathroom. The sensual sight before her eyes has her feet planted firmly against the tile flooring and her heart racing. She didn’t know what left her breasts heaving in anticipation—is it the water cascading down his sinewy frame like a stream over rocks? Is it his firm yet strapping back that tapers down to his muscular ass? Or is it the way his v-cut glistened from the water all the way down to his burgeoning erection swinging between his thighs? 
Brittany steps closer to the glass and knocks. He was in the middle of rinsing his face off when he heard her. Turning, head beneath the shower water, Donnie smiled at her. Brittany returned the smile with a bite of her lip. She went to use the toilet, allowing Donnie to finish up. After using the bathroom, Brittany washed her hands before brushing her teeth and cleansing her face. Just when she finished, Adonis exited the shower with his towel in hand. Brittany leaned her butt against the sink and watched her husband towel dry. He started with his neck, then went to his back, chest, abs, and now he was working that towel from his muscular ass around to his dick. 
“I know that face,” Adonis says, “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you so you can join me, baby.” 
“It’s okay,” Brittany slowly walks up to Adonis, her hands stroking his warm chest before reaching up to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Brittany leaned in for a kiss—a slow, kiss with lots of tongue and lip sucking. Both of Adonis’ hands came up to hold her face, his towel falling to the bathroom floor. She could spend hours kissing his thick lips. Adonis pulled away, gazing at Brittany’s drunken face with a half dimpled smirk. 
“You’re not gonna let me leave this bathroom, are you, B?”
“Not looking like this,” Brittany’s hands smoothed down Donnie’s hard abs, “Baby...do you really have to go into work today? I mean...really? You’re the CEO. Can’t you just...call in and...we can make that trip sooner than later?”
“Baby,” Adonis kisses Brittany’s forehead, “Today requires me to attend meetings and I need to have that done before I am gone an entire two weeks. You know how it is, girl, I promise, I’ll be home at a decent time and we can leave, Aight?”
Brittany rested her forehead against his chest before breathing in his scent, “Kay…”
“I love you, don’t act like that. Smile...for me?”
His soothing voice vibrated his chest and it caused Brittany to shiver with need. Pulling away, she walked out of the bathroom, Adonis following behind her. Laid back against the bed, Brittany watched Adonis apply lotion to his body before getting dressed. She will never get over how good this man looks in a suit. Good enough that she didn’t want any other bitch to witness it for themselves. Adonis sprays himself down with his favorite cologne and applies his Rolex to his wrist. 
“You’re looking sexy,” Brittany says, “Don’t make me show up to work, Adonis...put those secretaries of yours in check.” 
Adonis chuckles handsomely, “Who do I belong to?”
“Me.” 
“Exactly,” Adonis fumbled with his tie, “I don’t pay that shit any mind. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” 
“I know they look...wish they could have what I’m having every night...” 
“Hmm...that’s true. I can’t control their eyes, baby girl.”
Adonis groans. 
“This damn tie, I can never get it—“
“I got you Hubby,” Brittany lifts from the bed and walks to get to Adonis. She grabs up his tie, pulling him closer, his body pressed against hers. 
“The things I could be doing to you right now…” Brittany whispers before tightening his tie. 
“Keep that same energy when I get back.” 
Adonis steps away to admire himself in the mirror. Grabbing his work satchel, phones, wallet, and keys, Adonis is ready to head out for work. Brittany leads the way out of their master bedroom and down the stairs to their luxury penthouse before entering the kitchen. Adonis was just going to grab a bagel with cream cheese to settle his hunger but Brittany is making black coffee with brown sugar and she’s in the fridge pulling out a carton of eggs, heavy cream, waffle mix, and some left over berries. 
“Sit, I’ll whip you up some breakfast before you leave.” 
Adonis takes a seat at their kitchen island, removing his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves. 
“I have an entire Asian excursion planned for us. I know how much you’ve been wanting to go to that rooftop infinity pool in Singapore.” 
Brittany turned towards Adonis giving him a radiant smile with white teeth and twinkling eyes that had him grinning in return.
“All of this for me? Now I really have to make sure I packed everything I need. I have to wait at home for this?!! Babe,” Brittany pouts. 
“We’re leaving tonight. I have the jet set up for us too. Just the two of us, baby.” 
Brittany went to work making the eggs. She did enough for the both of them and added a little cheese since that was Adonis’ favorite. With that set to the side she checked on the waffles. Belgium waffles with powdered sugar, berries, and maple syrup. Usually, she would do red velvet since Adonis loves red velvet but that would take much longer. Adonis sipped on his coffee and watched Brittany plate the food. His eyes wandered down to her bare feet with toes painted white. She always looked good enough to fuck in the morning. His hips thrust a little in his seat because he could feel himself growing yet again with just a simple sweep of his eyes over her frame. 
“Eat up,” Brittany says while sitting Adonis’ plate in front of him with warm maple syrup in a glass gravy boat with a glass ladle. She sat next to him and tucked into her food as well. They both have the perfect view of LA from their kitchen since the penthouse is so wide open with ceiling to floor windows. 
“Even eating your food has my dick hard,” Adonis bites a piece of waffle off of his fork while staring at Brittany with lust filled eyes. 
Brittany licks maple syrup from her lips before leaning over the kitchen island, her hand resting in Adonis’ lap. She smoothed her hand up his thigh before cuffing his crotch with her delicate hand. She did all of this while watching his expressions. His dark brown eyes smoldering, jaw clenching, and breathing uneven. 
“Damn, baby,” Brittany gripped his length, “You’re nice and fat down there…”
“Brittany,” Adonis chewed on his waffle and swallowed with difficulty each time she palmed his erection. He closed his eyes and widened his legs so she could feel him up more. If only she could feel how tight his balls are.
“This all for me?” She toyed. Adonis has a hard gaze set on her.
“You thought I was gonna let you leave without a little taste?” She says. 
Brittany was up and off of her stool. She squeezes between Adonis and the kitchen island before sensually lifting the bottom of his dress shirt up her waist to reveal her pussy. Bringing one leg up to rest on his sturdy thigh, Brittany parts her pussy lips to show him exactly how wet and creamy she is. Adonis licked his bottom lip slow while his eyes didn’t flicker away from her pussy. 
“Damn...pussy wet as fuck, Brittany,” Adonis’ dick jumped the minute he went to stroke her pussy lips, “fuck, girl...pussy fat too.”
“Yes—
“You said you want a taste? Come taste this…”
Adonis went to work unfastening his pants. Brittany brings her leg down and she was on her knees looking up at him wrapping his thick fingers around his shaft before whipping it out. He was crazy hard. Veins like a work of art all thick along his length. His tip was nice and fat and his slit was leaking pre-cum. With his pants down further, his balls filled with all that cum sat round and heavy. Smooth, brown, tasty, wide, and long. So many other ways to describe his beautiful dick—that work of art. She’s been on that dick in plenty of positions and still to this day staring at it amazed her. After all, he did teach her how to take it. Yes, it was Adonis who taught her everything he knows. He taught her exactly how he likes to be pleased. Her shy, quiet energy was taken as innocence...but she’s not really innocent. Now, she was about to suck his dick just how he loved it sucked. 
“You know what to do, baby, take care of this dick.”
Brittany grabs him up, lining her lips up with the tip of his dick. She began placing kisses all over the tip of his dick, that pre-cum coating her lips like gloss. Adonis bites down hard on his bottom lip turning it bloodshot almost. Brittany trailed those dangerous kisses down to the base of his dick and over his balls. She repeated this until Adonis was a groaning mess with his hand snatching her bonnet off to grip her hair. Now, Brittany was adding tongue. Adonis couldn’t take sitting any longer so he stood up and planted his hands on the surface of the kitchen island. 
“Britt...move your hands...good girl...now, suck on just the tip baby…”
Brittany rested her hands in her lap and went to work using just the power of her jaws to suck the tip of his dick. Her mouth drooled and her spit dribbled down the center of her chest. She closed her eyes and relished in the feeling of his wide tip in her mouth. 
“Mmm,” she moaned. 
“Oh my fucking God...shit...nasty girl sucking on my tip like that…”
“Mhm,” she replied with his tip still in her mouth and her head bobbing up and down slowly. 
“You tryna make me cum like this? You know that’s daddy’s spot, right?”
She replied with her lips going lower around him and her hand juggling his balls. Adonis threw his head back and hissed. Brittany truly didn’t want him to go. His dick was so warm and fat in her mouth. She slurped him up fully now and his groans and moans had her bringing one hand down between her legs to rub her clit. 
“That’s it, baby, rub on that pussy with my dick in your mouth.” 
She rubbed on her clit, smoothing her hands down to gather her wetness from time to time while working her mouth on her husband’s fat dick. Adonis starts moving his hips to feed her some more dick, his dress shirt resting under his chin. 
“Let me see your fingers, baby.” 
Brittany shows Adonis her fingers. A creamy ass mess. 
“Shit...that pussy is weeping. You want this fat dick, baby?”
Brittany nods her head.
“Keep going...ima cum all down your Goddamn throat, girl.” 
Brittany was fingering herself now and with her other hand she strokes his balls while sucking Adonis as best as she could now. That dick was beyond fat in her mouth and every time it reached the back of her throat she gagged. The entire front of that dress shirt she wore was soaked. 
“I hear that creamy pussy…” Adonis’ eyes were low, “Fuck...I’m about to bust...damn, baby...fuck!!!!!”
Adonis gripped the kitchen island edge tightly and with a forward thrust of his hips, he emptied his heavy balls of all his cum down her throat. Brittany’s legs shook and she couldn’t keep her lips around him any longer. Popping her lips off, the remainder of Adonis’ cum landed on her chest as she moaned out. She jerked his dick as her entire body spasmed with her orgasm. She let go of his dick and pulled her fingers out with a whimper. She was even more of a mess now. 
“That’s a lot of cum, almost as much as me.”
They both stare at the mess they made before locking eyes. 
“Clean my cum off your chest and suck it off your fingers.” Adonis commanded. 
Brittany swiped his cum off of her and licked and sucked it clean before leaning forward to do the same to his dick. 
“Let me taste that pussy.”
Brittany was on her feet, fingers coming up to Adonis’ mouth. He gripped her wrist tightly before his long, thick, pink tongue damn near slithered out to clean her off. Her blood seemed to rush to her core again and the feeling of the pressure from his sucking had her weak in the knees. 
“Pussy tastes good each and every time, baby,” Adonis leans forward to give her a sloppy French kiss, “Now I’m gonna be at work all day thinking about how wet that pussy is...keep it wet until I get home, okay?” Adonis strokes her chin, “Play in that pussy as much as you like so I can come home and find the biggest fucking mess for daddy to play all in...okay?”
“Yes, daddy,” Brittany was damn near hypnotized by this man's tongue. 
_____________________________________________________
“Glad that shit is over.”
Adonis had just finished up his last meeting about expanding AJC Finance. He plans on opening up a corporate office in South Korea soon. On his trail is one of his secretaries, Kimberly Jussel. She’s from Birmingham UK. A black woman with skin that reminded you of burlywood and raven hair that she always wore in a classy French braid with wand curls framing her face. She wears black cat eye frames and fitted pencil skirts with silk blouses and So Kate pumps on her feet. 
“Absolutely, Sir,” Kimberly replies, “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?”
“I’ll take some of that tea that you make, it’s really good.”
“With cream and sugar?” 
Adonis looked over his shoulder at Kimberly with a dimpled smile and unwavering eyes, “Exactly like that.” 
Adonis enters his grand office, taking a seat. Kimberly places some important files on his desk, her eyes admiring Adonis discreetly while he takes off his suit jacket. She tugged on her full bottom lip with her teeth before tearing her eyes away just when he looked towards her direction. 
“That tea, Kim?” Adonis says jokingly with a half smirk while unbuttoning his suit jacket with one hand, finger rings gleaming. 
“Right on it, Sir.”
Kimberly turns to exit just when another secretary of Adonis’ enters. Her name is Morgan. Tall, sienna skin, short curly fro and a sexy suit on like she always wears with her dress shirt unbuttoned a little to show off her slender yet smooth neck. Kimberly and Morgan locked eyes before sharing fake smiles. It was like a competition in that office for Adonis’ attention. 
“What’s up, Morgan?” Adonis asks before taking his seat.
“It’s your wife, Mr. Creed. She says it’s an emergency.”
“Shit,” Adonis notices his company phone blinking with a transferred call, “Thanks Morgan.”
“No problem,” She says with a sultry voice before strutting away, closing his double glass doors to give him privacy. Adonis presses a few buttons on his desk to tint the glass of his office. Picking up the phone, Adonis speaks.
“Babe, everything cool?”
“No,” Brittany exhales, “Donnie...I need you to come home.”
“Baby...what’s the matter?” Adonis says with a concerned expression. 
“I’m not feeling too well...I don’t know what it is,” She exhaled, “Please come home…”
Adonis closes his eyes, “Alright, alright...I’ll cancel a conference call that I have to do and let Kellon take it. I’ll handle the rest when I get back from the trip. Did you need me to bring anything while I’m on my way?”
“Those Lindor chocolates I like.”
Adonis smiles, “Sure, baby, I’ll bring you a bag...anything else?”
“Just your presence, Mr. Creed.”
“Okay, Mrs. Creed...I’ll be on my way.” 
The call ended and Adonis was up and out of his office chair, gathering his things before leaving his office. His close friend and CFO, Kellon Jordan will be in charge for the two weeks he’s gone—of course, Adonis will be called in case anything goes bad. Exiting his office, Kimberly was approaching with his tea and a megawatt smile. 
“Oh! Leaving?” Her smile turned to that of disappointment. 
“Yes, my wife needs me at home so I gotta go to her.”
Kimberly bats her lashes and smiles, “That's so sweet...should I inform Mr. Jordan?”
“He already knows I’m leaving for my trip so there is no need for all of that. Just let him know about taking over the conference call. He knows what to say. I’ll see you when I get back Kim, alright? Take care of yourself girl.
With that, Adonis leaves Kimberly behind with his scent lingering and her body shivering. 
Adonis exited the company parking garage and drove to a nearby CVS to grab the chocolate. With that, Adonis is driving home, thankful to beat traffic since it was only 2:45 in the afternoon. Parking his car in the penthouse garage, Adonis leaves his suit jacket in the car and takes everything else with him. He walks through the lobby of the penthouse building, heading straight for the elevators to the top floor. What could it be? She used to suffer from acid reflux and it would make her sick. Off of the elevator and at his door, Adonis unlocks it swiftly, opening the door and strolling inside. 
“Britt?”
It’s silent. 
Adonis drops the chocolate off in the kitchen and climbs the stairs to his penthouse. The bedroom doors are closed. Adonis pauses ate the doors, his hands on both knobs. Exhaling, Adonis opens the doors to find his wife—
“Emergency, huh?” 
He couldn’t fight the sly smirk that spread across his face. Brittany is completely naked and laid out like Rose on Titanic. Beautiful toasty brown skin all smooth, brown eyes low and lips glossy. Adonis drops his work satchel on the floor, walking towards Brittany while loosening his tie. 
“Hey, baby…” Brittany blushes.
“I thought you weren’t feeling well?”
“I’m not well,” Brittany circled her right nipple with her finger, “I’m sick…”
“You look well to me, B,” Adonis kicks off his shoes.
“In order for me to get better...I need you to be here...to take care of me…”
The minute Adonis left, Brittany was in a sour mood. She cleaned up a bit, took a shower, rubbed down with some body butter and laid in bed with a new shirt of his on. She has a habit of going into his walk-in closet, trying on his suit jackets and jewelry. She sprayed his cologne on her pillow so she could breathe in his scent. Yes, Brittany did play in her pussy. Her clit plumped up real quick with his smell woven into the fabric of the pillow and the thought of his dick filling her up. She looked down at her pussy with her legs pulled back and whimpered. He said to play in it as much as she wanted to for him to practically swim in. Brittany did it three times. Twice in that bed and once on the sofa after lunch. She was aching for her man and that’s what led her to call his job and get him to come home. 
“I got it nice and wet for you, daddy…”
Brittany opened her legs to show Adonis just what she meant by wet. More like her pussy was drowning. Adonis’ lips parted and his eyes grew all dark and clouded with lust. 
“I think it’s time for you to come get this pussy and make me feel better.” 
Adonis chuckles, his fingers undoing the buttons on his dress shirt before he was doing the same thing to his dress pants. Adonis then removes his socks and briefs, walking over to Brittany in complete nudity. He kneeled between her legs before grabbing her ankles and pulling her towards him so that she’s laying flat on her back. Adonis lowers himself between her legs on his belly, his strong, biceps curling around her thighs to keep them open and in his complete control. Her pussy was right in his face. He locked eyes with her while parting his lips to spit on her pussy—his saliva dripping slowly. Using his tongue, Adonis covered her pussy lips with his saliva before using his tongue to slip between her lips. 
Up, down, up, down, he went. Brittany concentrated hard on the movement of his tongue. She bites her lip when Adonis damn near stuffed his whole face in her pussy, moving his head from side to side and in a circle. Her head went back and she moaned. With his fingers, Adonis spreads her lips and from there kisses trailed all over her. She shuddered each time his lips graced her clit. When he began to eat her, Brittany’s hand found its way on the back of his head. He was sucking, licking, and kissing her pussy with his eyes on her—just studying her. He would say how beautiful and tasty her pussy is to ruin her some more. 
“Fuck, Adonis,” She moaned, “You’re gonna make me cum for the fourth time today…”
“You deserve it,” He whispered before sucking her clit, “Ima make you cum as many fucking times I want to on that trip…”
“Yes,” Her lips parted but she couldn’t find the words. 
“Cum in my mouth, baby...daddy wants to make you feel better—“
“FUCK,” Brittany’s head fell back against the pillows, “fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming—“
Adonis squeezed the hell out of her thighs the more he devoured her pussy and on command she was cumming in his mouth—loud gasps of pleasure filling the room. 
“You said it was an emergency...this is an emergency,” Adonis was up on his knees between her legs with his fingers in her pussy, “Whatever you need, I gotchu baby…”
“Mmm,” Brittany spreads her legs wider, “I’m a little better…”
“But not completely,” Adonis grabs for his fat dick, stroking his length slowly, “I know what you need.” 
“What do I need, daddy?”
Adonis looked from his dick and up into her eyes, “This fat dick.”
“Yes...yess...that dick will have me better in no time.”
“Make you cum to get you well?” Adonis positions himself between her legs before pushing his length inside slowly. He released a shuddering breath before smirking at her with a single deep dimple. She closed her eyes to fight the build up of liquid behind her lids. Adonis takes his thumb to trace her bottom lip before Brittany wrapped her lips around it. His hips moved with skill while he held all his body weight up on one arm. All she could see was his cut muscles flexing with each thrust. 
“That’s right baby...put them legs up so I can get in there deeper...make my baby feel better, yeah?”
“Unh,” She moaned in response. 
“Pussy wet…” he hisses, “Pussy is fucking wet.”
“So wet for you,” She whimpers.
His hips began snapping into hers, their sweaty skin connecting like adhesive. She felt her entire pussy tingle like an orgasm was brewing. He fucked her so good that she could feel every inch and width of that dick pushing inside of her. With how soaked she is it helped. They both watched with awe stricken expressions at how beautiful his dick looked covered in her creamy mess. Adonis would go purposely slow just so she can catch the moment and savor it. Now, he was staring at her intently with his dick beating her walls up and causing her titties to bounce. 
“I’m gonna cum,” She whispered. She couldn’t really find her voice because Adonis was fucking it out of her. 
“Daddy making that pussy cum? You gonna make daddy’s dick cum with that pussy? I feel that pussy yanking on me…”
“Cum inside of me…”
He was going to anyway. Adonis pushed her thighs back some more and used her for balance while he fucked her deep. Brittany was in pure bliss and shock. All she could do was moan and ask for him to keep fucking her with that good dick. His balls slapped her ass and she could feel them getting tighter and tighter. 
“I’m gonna bust in that pussy...give that pussy what she needs—“
“Yeah, give me that nut—“
“AHHH FUCK—“
Adonis picked up the pace and the more he hit the bottom of her pussy the harder he came. He stuffed his dick in as deep as it could go before pulling out slowly. A single slimy string of cum was left behind and it was a reminder of how good her pussy is and how much she drained him. Adonis laid on top of her, his pillow soft lips kissing all over her face before finding her lips. He gripped her chin to keep her still while controlling the searing kiss. He was still nice and stiff and she could definitely go for round two. 
___________________________________________________
The Boeing 747-8 VIP is the longest and second largest airliner ever built. The starting price of this jewel is at $367 million, and that is before all the luxury amendments are designed into the jumbo jet. This is the jet that Brittany and Adonis take to Phuket—a rainforested, mountainous island in the Andaman Sea. It has some of Thailand’s most popular beaches, mainly situated along the clear waters of the western shore. The island is home to many high-end seaside resorts, spas and restaurants. Phuket City, the capital, has old shophouses and busy markets. They are both staying at the Vijitt Resort Phuket—a tranquil beachfront escape on the tropical island of Phuket with Thai culture and charm where privacy, nature, and local hospitality take center stage. It’s wide open spaces, tall swaying palms and lush green lawns gently slope towards the Andaman Sea. The unforgettable view from this 5 star villa resort Phuket overlooks a myriad of offshore islands from the calm and tranquil tidal beach at Chalong Bay.
Brittany’s boho box braids are in a bun and she’s wearing a white wrap top with a tropical mini skirt that has a high split and some strappy green heels. Her chocolate brown eyes are covered with rimless square frame sunglasses that are a brown color and she’s carrying her green birkin bag. Adonis is wearing a pair of charcoal grey joggers, Nike track shoes, a black muscle tee and black aviator shades. A private car awaited them and now they are pulling up to the resort. Valet handled the designer suitcases for them while Adonis and Brittany checked in. Brittany couldn’t wait to experience the beaches, food, and overall views during their trip. Adonis wanted to experience the overall culture, anime, and take an ATV tour. They planned on staying in Phuket for a few days before heading to Tokyo, Shanghai, Bangkok, and Bali to name a few. 
With their room keys, Adonis couldn’t wait for Brittany to see the Vijitt Pool Villa. The one bedroom Vijitt Pool Villa offers supreme privacy and outstanding uninterrupted views of the Andaman Sea. Their bags are already waiting for them. When they arrived Brittany was blown away by the exceptional views. It was the ultimate romantic getaway. Brittany couldn’t wait to relax in the private garden and splash around in the 11 metre-long infinity-edge pool that appears to blend into the sea and after dark take a romantic dip in the outdoor Jacuzzi. There is one king-sized bedroom, a separate opulent living room and a heavenly bathroom with its own tropical garden, luxury bathtub and rain shower. Adonis watched her move around the villa, taking it all in. He has a special dinner with fireworks planned for her on the beach tomorrow night. 
“I wish we could just live here,” Brittany says while standing on the patio watching the sea, “It’s so beautiful…”
Adonis joins her, “I’m just happy you love it...we have a lot more to look forward to as well. Come here…”
Adonis pulls Brittany in to wrap his arms around her. He nestled his face in the crook of her neck and kissed her slowly and softly. 
“What do you wanna do right now?” 
Brittany couldn’t seem to narrow it down to one thing. Walk the beach? Take a dip in the pool? 
“How about we think it over while drinking some champagne?”
“Sounds good to me,” Brittany says, taking Adonis’ hand and entering the villa. Both of them take a seat on their bed while sharing champagne. Neither of them felt like unpacking at the moment so they planned on doing that before taking a nice bubble bath. Tomorrow Adonis will take her on a yacht tour and afterwards they will ride ATV’s then have a fancy dinner on the beach. 
“Can you understand Thai?” Brittany asks.
“A little. I’m still learning. I can understand Indonesian, Japanese of course, still trying to be more fluent since I’m trying to expand globally.”
“That’s so sexy to me. A fluent tongue…” Brittany licks her lips. 
“I can always teach you,” Adonis says. 
With the bottle nearly empty, Brittany and Adonis take a much needed nap. They were out for a while because it’s nearly nightfall. Brittany wakes up first to use the bathroom. After relieving herself, she starts a bubble bath for the both of them. It was a relaxing and romantic ambience with deep cleansing treatments, body scrubs, oils, and scented body soaps. Brittany added herbal oil to the bubble bath to better relax them. Afterwards, Brittany lit some candles and dimmed the lights. Undressing, Brittany enters the room to grab Adonis. She wakes him with kisses to his soft lips. 
“I have a bubble bath ready for us,” She whispered against his lips. 
“Mmm, is that right?” He replies with low eyes and that raspy voice she loves. 
“Mhm,” She tongue kissed him, “Come on before it gets cold.” 
They usually took showers together since the tub at their place was a single tub. With both of their naked bodies submerged in the soapy water, they gazed at each other’s bodies with desire. Can simple stares make a woman pregnant? Adonis calmly admired her and she looked back at him. His hands smoothed up and down her soapy legs. Brittany stared at him like someone who has seen something very interesting and lovely. She kept chewing on her bottom lip while staring at him. Eventually, Adonis moved closer to her, so that their legs almost surrounded each other’s waist and he put his arms around her, pulling her forward and into his lap. Brittany wrapped her soapy arms around his shoulders. She can feel his stiff dick against her ass beneath the soapy depths. 
“That dick feels so good,” She spoke with a hushed tone in his ear. His wet hands rubbed her hips. His dick was bobbing up and down in the water and it kept smacking her pussy and ass. Adonis spreads her ass cheeks beneath the water which causes her pussy to open and Brittany takes that opportunity to grab his dick up to rub along her clit. Each time she smacked his wide tip against her pussy the water would splash. Adonis smiles at her actions while cuffing both of her cheeks firmly. 
Adonis leaned forward to flick his tongue against her ear, “you gon’ keep slapping your clit with it or are you gonna let me put this dick in you?”
Brittany rests her wet forehead against Adonis’ shoulder before taking her teeth to nibble on his flesh. 
“I asked you a question, girl…”
“Of course you can put this dick in me,” Brittany says while stroking him beneath the water. 
“Aight, turn around.”
Brittany lifts from Adonis’ lap and turns around on her knees in the bath, her ass arched and soaking wet with soap bubbles clinging to her skin. Adonis grabs his fat dick with one hand and with the other he rubs each ass cheek in front of him. The soap mixed with oil made her skin extra shiny and slippery. Brittany rested her head on the back of the tub with her hands planted on the wet wall. He rubbed his hands in a circular motion over her ass before slapping each cheek. Brittany closed her eyes and enjoyed his heavy hands coming down on her wet skin. The sound echoed off of the walls. 
“I’ma eat it just like this.”
He couldn’t help himself. Her pussy lips were in his face and nestled between her thick thighs daring him to come and taste. Brittany spreads her thighs some more, careful not to slip. Adonis scoots closer, some of the water sloshing over the edge before leaning forward to kiss her pussy lips. He was beating his pipe at the same time. Brittany could hear the flesh of his shaft against his palm. It sounded so good. She wanted that dick up in her badly but his mouth was currently in place sucking on her clit and alternating between tongue-fucking her pussy. 
“Damn...I’ma eat this phat pussy morning day and night... slurping on this juicy phat pussy...mhmmm... mhmmm...such an amazing view baby…”
“Oh, my God, Donnie…” Brittany pushed her pussy in his face and Donnie had to grab her ass to keep her still. She rode his face from behind like she always did, popping her ass and pushing all that pussy back on him. Adonis whacked her ass each time she did that. The water was swaying in the tub from their movement. Adonis loves to get his mouth on her pussy. She was giving and he was taking her yummy phat pussy in his mouth as best as he could with lots of spit. She could hear his tongue flicking back and forth and just when he made it go flat to swipe her pussy up and down, over and over, she climaxed. Her hands struggled to grip the wall and her knees slid to opposite ends of the tub and that gave Adonis more of a reason to eat her pussy. She reached back to palm his head and guided him where she wanted. 
“Right there baby...right on that clit...mmm...suck on it baby...shit...your pussy is cumming for you...make your pussy cum...show me how much you want your pussy to cum...yesss...fuckkkk...Donnie...baby...shit.”
She couldn’t hold on any longer. Her hand left his head and now she was shaking. Adonis gave her one final kiss before lifting to his knees. Brittany looks back and sees how much he’s struggling. That dick was weeping. His pre-cum dribbled from his slit and into the water. It was stiff and pointing out towards her pussy. 
“I’m a creamy mess back there?” Brittany asks.
“Fuck yes,” Adonis takes a finger to rub it in, “It’s hella sloppy like always…”
“Put that dick in, beat my walls up,” She pressed her face against the wall and spread her cheeks for him, “see this tight pussy? Put that big dick right in here…”
“You gon’ tear this dick up? Cream all over this dick…”
“Bring me that dick—
Brittany couldn’t even finish her words when Adonis’ wide tip slipped easily past her opening followed by his girth and length. His hand came down on her ass rough followed by the second one before he squeezed her ass. With his sturdy hips, Adonis pushed his dick in and out of her pussy—not rushed, but moderately moving so that she could feel all of him. She parted her lips and exhaled longingly while struggling to thrust her hips back to meet him. It was like a battle of who’s fucking who. Each time she went back, Donnie would thrust forward deeply. His hands moved to grip her slippery waist and from there he began to increase the pace. Brittany’s wet cheeks bounced off of his hips and it stung each time from the water. 
“There you go, girl—
“Donnie, shit!!!” 
He was taking over. Their movements caused the floor to get wet. 
“This what you wanted right? Get a room and fuck all day?”
“Yes, daddy—
“You know that’s my shit too...get a hotel...check in early…and make love to this good pussy all fucking night...wake you up at 2 am with dick deep in this pussy.”
Brittany and Adonis haven’t taken a trip in a long while and this is something they used to do all the time. Check in to the most expensive hotel wherever they are, drink, eat, and fuck. Fuck in the kitchen, fuck on the balcony, fuck in the shower, and fuck from the floor to the bed. The thought of it made her cream his dick. One of Adonis’ hands came around to grip the front of Brittany’s throat so he could lean forward and whisper in her ear between strokes. 
“You look so pretty with my dick in your pussy,” He nibbled on her jaw, “tearing that pretty ass up, right?”
“Fuck—
“Keep that pussy right there baby.”
“Adonis—
“Submissive and taking this pipe good—
“It’s in my stomach…fuck my pussy daddy...I love your dick—
“Fuck this pussy? I can’t wait to cum in your pretty little pussy.”
Brittany could hardly go without making a bunch of noise and it was music to his ears. With his hand wrapped around her braids now he went faster, the water really splashing and getting everywhere. It splashed so much that it put the fire out of two of the candles. 
“Fuck—
“I feel that pussy baby,” Adonis stood still so he could feel her walls convulse around him while she came. He threw his head back and hissed before fucking her again. 
“Shove it in, babe.”
With her words Adonis went hard in her pussy, his balls heavy and tight. He was about to bust. Just a few more strokes in her good pussy and he was gonna cream pie her ass something serious. 
“Yes, daddy—
“Yes daddy what? Gonna keep taking that dick? Look back at me while I beat that pussy in and flood you with all this nut—
Everytime he fucked Brittany—his wife, from the back, he loved seeing her ass like that. Jiggling, bouncing, clapping, red from his slaps. He came so hard that he almost fell on top of her in the tub. Adonis gripped the edge of the tub to hold himself up when he emptied his load inside of her. They both couldn’t move so they stayed connected until their hearts slowed down and their breathing caught up.
_______________________________________________________
Throughout the rest of the evening, Brittany and Adonis couldn’t keep their hands, lips, and tongues off of each other. They both went to a stunning beachfront Thai restaurant after their sexy bath and afterward they walked the beach home and took a few pictures. It’s the next morning and they shared a lovely breakfast in the restaurant and bar that included mimosas and a beautiful view. Erik has a yacht rented for them to explore the Andaman sea—Princess S65 Kati. Their final destination will be Langkawi Island, a natural tropical paradise in SouthEast Asia. Brittany is sipping on wine in her little black bikini and black sheer robe, enjoying the good life while swaying her thick hips, braids blowing in the wind. A black girl in luxury. Adonis is shirtless and in a pair of turquoise and black trunks, smoking a cigar and sipping on his drink. 
Adonis watched his wife enjoy herself to the fullest with a big smile on his face. It was her laugh, her glistening skin, and her hips moving to the music in her head that has him getting up from lounging and walking up on her. He wrapped his strong arms around her, Brittany turning to face him. She pulled him close with her arms around his shoulders while he kissed her right brow all the way down to her lips. 
“Kiss me again,” He says, drunk and clingy.
Adonis has so much love for Brittany. He could fill rooms with it. Buildings. He’s surrounded by it wherever he goes, he walks through it, breathes it...it’s in his lungs, and under his tongue, and between his legs. His mouth moved passionately over hers, urging her lips apart. It was a kiss to level mountains and shake stars from the sky. It was a kiss to make angles faint and demons weep...a passionate, demanding, soul-searing kiss that nearly knocked the earth off its axis. 
“Look!” 
Brittany broke their kiss and pointed towards a beautiful island with white sand and clear water. With both of their phones out they snapped pictures. The yacht arrived at a dock on the island and Brittany and Adonis stepped off with beach towels and a basket filled with lunch for them both. After chilling on the beach Adonis wanted to go on an ATV tour before heading back to the villa to prepare for dinner that evening. They both found a spot on the sand and laid out towels. Brittany setup lunch that included Tom yum, green and papaya salad, fruit, and pomegranate juice. The beach was free of other people so Adonis plucked the strings of her bikini top, Brittany’s succulent breast displayed for him. Adonis took a few pictures of her to admire later on. Sand palm prints on her cheeks and sweaty cocoa skin. After lunch, they both took a dip in the water to cool off, splashing around and swimming. They both spent at least two hours there before heading back to the yacht to change into appropriate clothes for the ATV tour. 
Adonis was in his element when they arrived on the ATV tour. Head strap camera on, all black cargo pants, a red muscle tee, black bandanna around his mouth, and black hiking boots on his feet, Adonis climbed onto his own ATV while Brittany took off on her own. She went off before him and Adonis was taken by surprise. She’s wearing grey biker shorts with a matching sports bra, grey hiking boots, and her braids in a bun. They explored the natural wonderland of Phuket island from Bang-Tao to Patong. Of course, the ride wasn’t a clean one. Just thirty minutes in they were both covered with splashes of mud. They took the whole three hours given to enjoy themselves with breaks in between. Early day adventures finished, Adonis and Brittany took the yacht back to the villa. They showered together, unable to fight the urge to be all over each other again. . 
Adonis is strong. He lifted Brittany up against the wall and rested her legs on his shoulders while he pressed his lips into her folds. Smacking his lips, Adonis spits on her clit before making his tongue wide to flick her clit up and down. Side-to-side. Adonis moaned her name while he explored her wet pussy with his tongue and lips. He needed to enter her expeditiously. Brittany moaned despite her fear of falling but she knew Adonis had her. With his tongue in her pussy, Brittany’s walls gripped him and she creamed in his mouth. Putting her down, Adonis gripped her braids and lowered her head to show her how throbbing hard he is. He gripped his erection and showed her how much pre-cum seeped from his slit. She was on her knees speedily to lick him up. 
“Oooh,” She moaned between sucking. 
“Damn, Brittany...suck it baby...suck that dick baby…”
Looking down he could see her spit all over him and that slurping noise she was making had him pushing her head down further so he could hear her gag. Just watching her suck his dick made him want to flood her womb with his nut. He pumped harder into her mouth, an erratic movement of his hips forcing all that fat dick down her throat. 
“Look at you baby...such a beautiful Bitch taking all this dick...you gon’ take all this later right ?”
He didn’t give her room to respond. Brittany was squeezing his thighs. 
“I see you baby...I see how much you love daddy’s dick...I feel that throat opening up...mouth swallowing my shit.” 
“Mm…” Brittany hummed, the sides of her mouth stretching. 
“Shit...oh fuck...girl...goddamn baby…”
His hips jerked wildly.
“Damn baby!!! Damn!!”
Adonis could feel his glans throb in her mouth and now his balls began to empty his heavy load down her throat. She still sucked. He looked at her with a mixture of lust and bewilderment. Tugging on her hair, he made Brittany let go of his dick with her tight lips. His shit was extra sensitive and she kept playing around, licking his tip. 
“Ared stop it, girl,” He said while moving away from her hand.
“I can’t help it, it’s so tasty. I want some more of that dick…”
“Later, Aight?” Adonis turned off the shower, “You know I got something special planned for your tonight, right?”
“All for me?” Brittany bites her lip and bats her lashes at him. That shit always made him weak. 
“Uh-huh...everything for my baby.” 
They exited the shower wrapped in one towel that barely covered them. Once they got back to the villa, they planned on taking a nap so they could be energized for dinner. He has the biggest firework experience planned for her on the beach. Then he was going to finish the night out with her pussy filled with his hot quintessence. 
________________________________________________________
The setup was otherworldly. 
Adonis really pulled out all the stops. 
The romantic beach dinner was a complete surprise for Brittany. They had their very own candle-lit beach cabana where they can put their toes in the sand while staring into the twinkling lights of the Andaman sea and Patong bay. They had their very own menu that included Phuket lobster, sea bass, seafood skewers, beef tenderloin, baked garlic potatoes, a bread basket, tropical fruits, and the finest wine. Brittany wore a fitted orange maxi dress with a high slit and her braids down with gold accessories decorating the strands, and a new gold jewelry set that Adonis gifted her along with the perfume on her skin. Adonis wore a pair of light wash denim cutoffs with a short sleeve white button down shirt halfway buttoned. He has silver jewelry with white diamonds on to bring the casual look together. This was the night of her lifetime. The evening sky mixed with the sound of the waves crashing set the tone of the dinner. 
Brittany finished off the last bit of her dessert before grabbing her wine. His eyes were those of someone who’s deeply in love, someone who sees nothing but his lover, someone who has no fear of anything except losing her. The eyes of someone who believes that every dream will come true, that reality will move if you just give it a push. It was so intense that it has Brittany panting with need. The dinner was splendid. Now, she wanted him to slather her mouth with slow wet kisses and give her soaked pussy deep thrusts—plunging balls deep. He senses her need and with an outreached hand they walk away from the cabana and further out on the beach hand in hand. Adonis kisses Brittany’s hand before pulling her in close to him. They stared at the sky in comfortable silence until the first firework lit up the evening sky with blue, purple, and pink. She turned to Adonis with a tilt of her head and a wide smile. 
“A firework show?! Wow, Adonis,” She shook her head and stared up at a few comet fireworks the color of red and orange. Next, a green peony firework burst the sky and it flashed within Brittany’s brown irises. When the golden willow firework went off she gasped excitedly and Adonis couldn’t help but laugh and smile. So many pretty colors to take in. Jellyfish fireworks sprouted and at that point Brittany dug into her cream colored clutch for her phone to record. She turned the camera on Adonis and he saluted with a big smile before she focused back to the show. Crackles, strobes, and then ending in a big dahlia, the show came to an end. 
“I don’t need to ask if you enjoyed your evening,” Adonis says with a smirk. 
“This. Was. Perfect. Amazing? Romantic? I don’t even know the proper word to describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me.” 
Brittany blinked away tears and wrapped her arms around his torso. He pulled her in with his hands rubbing her exposed back up and down. 
“You mean everything to me…”
His touch was electric against her brown skin. Those eyes of his are on her. The eyes that make her weak every time he looked at her damn face. They created something special together and with the way he kissed her with all his tongue while she uttered sounds that had him on the edge had him ready to spill his cum deep inside of her. 
“...Time to go back and end this night with a bang,” Adonis palmed both her ass cheeks, “I ain’t give you the proper dick down yet and that’s what I plan on doing.” 
“Can’t wait,” Brittany whispered against his lips. 
Finished at the beach, Brittany and Adonis headed back to their private villa for some more fun. Inside, Adonis opened a fresh bottle of champagne while Brittany went to the bedroom to get prepared. She had a little something in mind herself. Opening her suitcase, Brittany pulls out a pair of sexy black panties with the sides cut out, a cheetah print top that’s see through, and some thigh high laced boots with a platform and a long heel like she was an exotic dancer. One thing for sure, Adonis loves it when she dresses up in the bedroom so he can take it all off himself. Except the shoes. He bought the sexiest shoes with the tallest heel to fuck her in. He has a fetish for legs—thick thighs and strong calves. Crawling in the center of the bed on her back with her legs spread and resting on her elbows, Brittany waited for Adonis to come back into the bedroom to find her. 
“Damn, baby, it’s like that?”
Adonis walked in with the champagne bottle in hand. 
“So...this is my surprise for the night?” Adonis sits the bottle down before going over to stand between Brittany’s legs. He lowered his head to kiss Brittany and she slipped him a bit of tongue. 
“Mmm...when did you get these boots?” Adonis asked while running his hands up and down the leather with awe. He grabs the back of her right leg bringing it up to rest on his shoulder. He rubbed his fingers across the lace up detailing while biting his lip. Not only did she look good in the boots, her pussy was sitting fat between her thighs and he could make out her areolas and nipples beyond the cheetah print top. 
“I bought them online a week before the trip...I see you love them…” her hand rubs up and down her pussy, “you did so much for me today...it’s time I give you this pussy...it’s wet as fuck too,” Brittany pulls the crotch of her panties aside. That pussy slipped out and spread open for him. Adonis licks two of his fingers and strokes her pussy lips. 
“I plan on being in this phat pussy all night girl.”
“And I want that fat dick in me all night,” Brittany reached out to hook her fingers in the front of his jeans to pull him closer. Adonis was on his knees between her legs now while Brittany stroked his thick erection. Adonis took one hand to pull her top down to expose both her breasts for him to tease. He twirled her nipples and pulled on her nipples just so he can release them and watch them bounce. 
“That pussy is insanely pretty, baby. Pussy tight and delicious…”
“Come eat this pussy.” 
Adonis didn’t need to be told twice. Brittany spread her thighs and pointed her heels towards the ceiling with her hand on the back of Adonis head. He started off by slurping with spit drooling from his tongue to get her nice and messy. Satisfied, Adonis spreads her lips, pulls the hood of her clit back, and goes to work with slow licks to her clit. That tongue moved like a wave hitting all the right spots.
“That fucking tongue don’t make no sense...fuck, daddy, that shit is so fucking good keep doing that.
Adonis made sure to move his tongue over her labia since it looked so fleshy and delicious. Not a single spot was left out from his tongue and lips. Her whole pussy was sucked up in his mouth. She watched him with low eyes and a lick of her lips. Brittany’s head went back when he alternated between flicking her clit with the tip of his tongue and sucking on it. 
“Keep them legs open...you tell daddy to eat this pussy you keep these thick ass thighs back, you understand?”
“...Gonna make me cum so good,” Brittany did as she was told. She held her thighs back for him. 
“Ima make this pussy cum all in my mouth...pussy is so wet on my tongue...tight, pink, fat pussy…”
“Unh, shit, Donnie,” Brittany’s fingers kept the hood of her clit back so Adonis could give her direct stimulation whenever he wanted. Each time he came back to her clit the urge to cum would increase. It came to a breaking point and she was a loud moaning mess in that room with her thighs trapping his head. Her cumming was a sign for him to keep going. Her hips lifted from the bed and his strong arms pushed her thighs apart with force so he could french kiss her pussy into another orgasm. She fell back with defeat. 
“My mouth is watering.” 
Adonis could feel his taste buds tingling for more. 
“The best fucking pussy in the world,” He reluctantly pulled away to stand and undress. His eyes focused on her pussy the entire time he took his clothes off. 
“Pussy so good I gotta put my dick in you now fuck all that.” 
That nice, big, long beautiful dick swung between his legs while he stood before her. That beast. Brittany turned around and put her ass in the air. Her panties are still pushed to the side. Her pussy lips were nice and creamy from the back. Adonis grabbed up his girthy shaft and started stroking with a twist of his wrist. His shit was concrete solid. Brittany slapped her pussy while looking back at him. 
“Pussy is noisy...I hear that pretty pussy...that’s daddy’s pussy…”
“That dick is thick and huge...I could cum from looking at it.” Brittany said.
Adonis was on his knees behind her, that body he worked so hard for blessing her eyes. Brittany arched her back some more and pushed her ass against him. Using one hand, Adonis laced his fingers around her panties to keep them pulled to the side while using his other hand to push his dick past her tightness. They both sighed with pleasure. He always stuffed her. The fullness tugged on her clit and made her grip him. 
“Still grip this dick with that good pussy,” Adonis moves his hips, “creamy and squeezing this dick...that’s right baby throw that ass back.” 
Adonis forcefully grabs her hips to feed her some dick while his eyes watch the way he fucks her. Her cream was making a big ass mess on the sheets. She circled her hips for him and made it jiggle. He was over her even more using the strength of his hips to stroke in her pussy.
“You fuck my pussy so good,” Brittany cried out. 
“That’s what you deserve...you know I gotta make this pussy feel good for my baby.”
Adonis went in deep and long, all the way, and they both moaned in unison. Adonis pumped his hips, pounding his meat into Brittany’s tight, velvety tunnel, her body surrendering to him like it always did. They were both bathed in sweat, burning with lust. Brittany looked back and watched as Adonis’ tongue ran over his bottom lip. She could see how much he was enjoying her wet pussy  with his deep strokes. She was feeling every inch of him thrusting into her. All of it. Even his balls slapping her engorged clit. 
“You got me cumming,” Brittany could feel herself dripping on the bed, “Damn...got my pussy leaking, daddy.” 
“Every time you cum for me, I crave you some more. This shit does my body good.”
Adonis pulled back slowly and enjoyed the sounds her pussy made and how stained she had him. He was fully out now and pulsating for more. Kissing her ass, Adonis turned Brittany over on her back and flicked tongues with her before lowering his lips to suck on her titties. She arched into his mouth when he started licking each nipple. 
“Put that dick back in me,” Brittany begged while bringing her legs up to rest on his shoulders. 
“I gotchu baby...daddy gon’ make that pussy cum again I promise,” Adonis whispered, “All you gotta do is keep these legs open so I can dig you out...hear me?”
“Yes, baby,” Brittany pilled Adonis up for another kiss. 
“And keep those pretty eyes on me…”
His hips moved like he was dancing slow motion, each time her toes would curl and her nails would drags down his back. Brittany could feel herself getting ready to cum again. She locked eyes with him, mouth falling open each time he would thrust forward hard. 
“Harder,” She encourages.
Adonis picked up the pace but kept it steady, his hips snapping into hers suddenly each time before stopping. She curled up under him, pussy unable to take the pleasure. This made Adonis pull her legs to her ears. She had no where to go now. He was going to show her how much he loved being in her pussy. 
“Oh, fuckkkk, you’re gonna make me cum,” he had his hands on the back of her thighs now, punishing her pussy. Brittany could only moan, no need for words when Adonis damn near took her breath away. There was no other feeling to compare this to. How could anything compare to the way her pussy wrapped around him? How it creamed all over him? She was at a loss. This is exactly what she would be receiving the entire trip.  
“Fuck, Donnie, Baby, I can feel you getting thicker,” her pussy was at its widest, “baby, I’m so opened up for you...baybeee, oh gosh, bayy.”
“Good fucking pussy, all mines,” Adonis buried his face in her neck, his hips snapping into her harder. She squeezed her eyes shut, mouth hanging open for the rest of the ride.
“Beating this pussy up good.” Brittany finally found the words. 
“Shit, damn...I’m about to bust...fuck...I’m cumming...Mhm...I’m cumming in this pussy deep...take this nut baby...shittttttt.”
He released in her, the tight hold pulling more cum from him. He could collapse right now. Brittany moaned out softly, as Adonis finished himself inside of her. Slipping out finally, Adonis watched her cum mixed with his drizzle onto the bed sheets. Adonis relaxed on top of her, his eyes searching hers.
“Baby that was…” He couldn’t finish his words while he stroked her sweaty face. He was still buried inside of her and it was comfortable laying beneath his solid frame. She weakly smiles up at him before pecking his lips. 
“I love you...just stay inside of me like this for a bit…”
“So I can get hard and fuck you again?” Adonis smirked. 
“I can go for some more dick.”
“That’s my kind of shit...always ready to take this dick.”
It didn’t take long because just staring at her had him stiff. Adonis was growing so thick in her pussy. His firm grip on yer thighs didn’t allow her to move. Her hips began to meet  him in a dirty dance before he grunts and moans, dick cumming and filling you up again. Brittany grabbed his chains to bring him closer to her, her lips sucking on his while he emptied his cum where it belonged. 
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apiratewhopines · 3 years
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This one is a gift for @teamhook because she is one of the most generous people I’ve ever met.
Thanks to @jrob64 for giving me advice on artwork and to ultraluckycatnd for reading over this chapter
Midnight
Chapter 1 — The Prince
Summary: In which our heroine meets cute
Chapter 1 of 7 on AO3
“But don’t forget folks,
That’s what you get folks
For makin’ whoopee”
-Makin’ Whoopee, Eddie Cantor
Emma Swan had been in some tight spots, but she’d never been in a run out of gas on a deserted highway with a dying cell phone battery and a stomach as empty as her bank account kind of situation before. In truth, she blamed this unfortunate situation on the same person she blamed all the misfortunes of her adulthood. Neal Cassidy.
There was a time a few short months ago she would have done anything for the man responsible for her current circumstances. Neal had been too good to be true. A real Prince Charming, down to the supposed trust fund and a smile that made her believe in happy endings.
She’d been a sucker. She heard one was born every minute, she just never thought her time would come. After all, one of the few things she learned in the foster system was how to spot bullshit from a mile away. But he looked at her with his soulful eyes and whispered promises in his smoky voice and she fell for it. More than once, actually, and all she had to show for the wasted years was a voicemail box full of collection calls and a wolf at the door.
Because Neal Cassidy didn’t just leave her. He stole her identity, maxed out her credit cards, and took out half a dozen loans in her name. Then he proceeded to use the money to wine and dine a wide assortment of women, the sheer number of which would make Casanova blush. All the while professing his undying love and spending his days eating all her food and watching television from his favorite seat on the couch.
Seriously, you could still see the faint outline of his backside on the cushion.
As countless victims of his schemes started showing up at her door looking for the man who made them feel alive while killing them one dollar at a time, she listened to tears and rants and misery with ill-disguised impatience. How had she become the counselor to the trail of broken girls he left in his wake? When was it going to be her turn to moan and groan and swear she’d never love again?
Well, she did get around to the swearing to never love again part. Some mistakes don’t bear repeating.
The final straw happened two months ago. Neal had disappeared after their final fight. His righteous indignation at being called on his crap and inability to find a plausible excuse for the stack of overdue bills and statements she found stuffed in the back of his gym bag made it difficult to share the same space. She wanted him gone even as her hands itched to touch him one more time.
Unfortunately, leaving her drowning in debt with the knowledge he cheated on her for the majority of their relationship wasn’t enough for him. He decided to do some collateral damage on his way out of town.
He did the unforgivable. He went after Granny.
His target was meant to wound her. While he lied and schemed the entire time they were together, she had been an open book for the first time in her life so he knew Granny was the sole connection she formed as a foster. Her brief stay with the woman before she aged out of the system was a time of peace and healing. Granny was responsible for helping her get on her feet and the two maintained a friendship years later.
Emma received the frantic call from Ruby explaining her grandmother had been tricked into giving Neal a blank check so he could do her grocery run. Hours later, she received a notification from her bank saying her checking account had been wiped out. At that point, the tenuous control Emma had on her emotions disappeared. She sat on the kitchen floor of the apartment she was about to lose, staring at empty walls that still echoed with his laughter in her weaker moments, and she broke into a million pieces.
So it was no wonder she vowed to have her vengeance. To do anything and everything to make him pay. Luckily, since he skipped out on a court date, catching him would also get her paid.
Tracking him had taken more time than she liked to admit. She was good; even penniless and running out of options, she recognized her worth and knew she possessed hard to find skill sets. But she had a sinking sensation that he might be better.
Now she was stranded on the side of the road with nothing except her most uncomfortable shoes to keep her company. But damn did they make her legs look good and with everything else in her life collapsing around her, somehow that seemed important.
Squaring her shoulders, she climbed out of the car and pondered her next course of action. She was unfamiliar with the state road connecting the two small towns on the Maine coast, so she had no idea what the odds were that a good samaritan would happen along. She had just enough juice in her battery and lettuce in her account to call for an Uber to take her to the seedy nightclub where Neal was last seen. Or she could walk the rest of the way in her mile-high heels knowing she never looked better, even though she would probably not be able to move the next day without a significant amount of pain.
What she would do if she found him or where she would stay if she didn’t weren’t questions she was ready to entertain.
Sighing, she pulled out her phone and with a huff of frustration opened her app. Pleading with whatever powers that be to let her last long enough to see herself through to the other side of this, she leaned against her beaten down yellow Bug and waited for the black sedan to show.
Of course, her phone died immediately after she booked her ride, finally giving up the ghost even though she didn’t get a chance to see the name or license plate of her hired car. Getting more anxious by the minute, she paced along the shoulder, careful to keep on the pavement since the ground was soft from recent rain. After what seemed like forever, but had probably not been more than half an hour, the headlights of a lone car crested a nearby hill.
“About time,” she muttered. To make sure the driver knew she was not pleased with the delay or the prodding pace he maintained despite the fact the sky seemed ready to open at any moment, she moved out into the middle of the lane and placed her hand on her hips. Pride kept her from squinting even though the bright high beams made her eyes water as the car approached.
Slowing from a crawl to a stop, the driver put the car in park and jumped out. It was dark and the man was dressed all in black, but as he moved around to the front of the car, she got the impression of blue eyes and a stubble-covered jaw that could probably cut glass. Great, just what she needed. A sexy Uber driver.
“Alright there, love?”
With a British accent. He probably smelled like bacon, too.
“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting all night.”
Moving closer, he smiled with a hint of confusion. “Had I known you were waiting for me, I would have been along sooner. Tell me, do you always accost strange men in the dead of night on empty roads?”
“Only when I’m paying them to take me where I need to go,” she grumbled, walking toward the back door on the passenger side. She pulled it open as he protested, and glared at him over the top of the car.
“Love, I think there may be a bit of a mix-up—“
“It’s fine. I won’t give you a bad rating for being late as long as you don’t talk to me. I’ve been driving for hours to get here and I need to think.”
She heard him sigh and saw the flash of his teeth as he smiled at her again. “Very well. Would you like me to get your bags?”
“You’d have to go to a pawn shop in Boston to accomplish that,” she joked, dropping into the leather seat and noticing for the first time the expensive luxury of her rented carriage. She supposed if she was going to spend her last dime on a ride, she could have done far worse.
She resisted the urge to use the low ambient lighting of the dashboard to get a better look at her temporary chauffeur. The glimpse she got outside was more than enough to know she needed to keep her distance. It didn’t stop her from feeling the weight of his stare as he peeked over his shoulder while clicking on his seatbelt. Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw his tongue flicker slowly over his bottom lip before he turned his attention back to the road.
“Nice dress. Where are we heading this fine night, Miss…?”
“You’re really terrible at this. Is it your first time being a driver for hire?”
“What gave it away, love? It’s quite an unexpected development that came about just this evening. But you know what they say, you never forget your first.”
It was everything she could do not to laugh. She had a feeling it would only encourage him and if she was heading into battle, she needed her wits about her. “The Snakehole Lounge.”
“At the risk of sounding cliche, why would a nice girl like you want to go to a place like that?”
“I’m not a nice girl,” Emma informed him without a hint of irony or bravado. “And your rating is going down with each syllable out of your mouth.”
“Tough lass,” he murmured. “But do yourself a favor. Stay away from the Snake Juice.”
Little did he know that even if she wanted to have a drink, and boy did she ever, she used the last of her meager funds to get to this backwater place and she wasn’t sure where her next meal would come from. “I’ll do my best.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence. She spent the time looking out the window at the trees flying by and trying to ignore how every time she looked away, her eyes caught his in the rearview mirror.
Honestly, it was probably a good thing they were the only people for miles around or he would have gotten them both killed.
Less than fifteen minutes later, he pulled to the curb in front of a shabby nightclub. Even the multitude of neon lights flashing “Girls! Girls! Girls!” and “Half-Price Beer Buckets” did little to enliven the dingy exterior. They didn’t bother with a bouncer, probably because no one actually wanted to get in.
Before she could say anything, her driver was out of the car and rounding his way to her door. She didn’t have a chance to object as he opened it and looked at her with avid curiosity. She had to admit she was impressed he didn’t give into it and ask any questions.
“Since we’re out of the car, am I allowed to speak again?”
Perhaps she had been too hasty in her internal praise. “Thanks for the ride. I hope your next passengers are more chatty since that’s what you’re into...overall, a solid three stars.”
“Three stars? I’d be surprised, but I had a feeling you were warming up to me between the baleful stares and eye-rolling.”
Gifting him with another of the said eye rolls, she adjusted the hem of her skirt to show a little more leg and walked away. She knew if she stayed a second longer she would give in to the almost magnetic pull of him and say something foolish like, ‘What’s your name?’
The inside of the establishment was every bit as horrible as the outside. The low lighting obscured the grime and wear that would be glaringly obvious otherwise. She wasn’t surprised. It seemed like the kind of place Neal would gravitate to since he was a dirty little rat.
Music heavy with bass pumped out a rhythm entirely too fast for the energy of the place. The few patrons who persevered this far into the night looked anemic as tired dancers did their best to act like they wanted to be there. Pulling her ID from the scrap of a bra she wore under her dress, she flashed it at the lone employee who manned the entrance and the bar. He gave it a cursory glance and turned back to his phone.
Snapping her fingers under his nose to get his attention, she pulled out a grainy photo of her quarry from the same location and asked, “Have you seen this man recently?”
“I’ve never seen anyone. Ever.” The man grumbled, not interested in the slightest. She wondered if he would stop her if she walked behind the counter and helped herself to a drink. She was leaning toward no and tempted to try.
“Tell you what buddy, take a good look at this picture. Then look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t seen him and we’ll end the night without any trouble.”
Something in her tone must have penetrated his disillusionment and he gazed at her with more interest than he’d probably shown anything in years. She waited as he glanced at the photo for a few seconds. “No, sorry. If he’s been here, it wasn’t during any of my shifts. Is he your husband or something?”
“He’s something alright,” she muttered. Defeated, she turned around without another word. She used the last of her resources to fund a wild goose chase, but at least it got her into town. Only thing left to do was find a park or quiet bench somewhere safe to sleep for a few hours and then she would tackle whatever came next. It wouldn’t be the first time she roughed it, although she had never attempted it in formal wear before.
Pushing the door open with unnecessary force, she immediately froze. Her three star driver was waiting at the curb as if it wasn’t the middle of the night and she hadn’t given him the brush off.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Yes, especially since I’m pretty sure our business is done,” she replied, walking past him and wishing the man could be a tiny bit less handsome. Now that the streetlights of the small town were there to illuminate their interactions, she couldn’t deny he was ridiculously attractive and exactly her type, complete with a black leather jacket and messy hair begging to be pulled. And, heaven help her, he was determined to extend their acquaintance apparently.
“It’s just good sense, love. I figured you’d be in need of transportation again, so why waste the gas to leave when I’d have to turn around after you called for your next ride.” He matched his stride to hers as she did her best to increase her pace.
Sighing, she stopped at the corner and looked at him. “Listen, I could tell you my phone is dead and I need to make a few more stops, that I’d pay you when you drop me off at my place at the end of the night, but it would be a lie. I’m chasing down a bounty. I need the money to pay for a ride and I need a ride to make the money. A smart man like you can see the problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”
She turned away again but felt him leap into action behind her. He moved to cut off her escape and said, “Double or nothing.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Double or nothing, sweetheart. I take you to wherever you need to go tonight and when you collect your fee, you pay me double whatever the normal fare is for jaunts like these.”
“What if I don’t find him?”
“That’s where the nothing comes in, lass. A smart woman like you can see the benefit of such an arrangement.”
She studied him, hoping to find some ulterior motive in his seemingly selfless offer, but all she saw in his expression was an earnestness bordering on being painful and a thirst for adventure barely contained. Perhaps this was how he got his kicks in an isolated town. He propositioned strangers and gambled on fate. “No strings? No funny business?”
“This whole business is funny, but I’ll behave myself if you will. We’ll have much less satisfaction that way, but I’ll do my best to rally my spirits and overcome my disappointment.”
With a rueful shake of her head, she stuck out her hand and introduced herself. “I guess we’re doing this. I’m Emma Swan.”
“Killian Jones, driver extraordinaire and captain of this fine vessel, at your service. Where’s our next stop?”
“I need to go to every seedy bar and filthy dive in the area so you tell me, Captain.”
She wasn’t sure what it said about her newfound companion that he was able to rattle off several places in a matter of seconds, but as the night stretched on and the miles racked up, she found she rather liked her tour guide. Which was probably a good thing since at this rate, she would be splitting the bounty fifty-fifty with him. Who knew the twin cities of Storybrooke and Misthaven had so many sleazy places to hang out?
“I’m afraid we’ve reached the end of the line, Swan. Are you sure he’s in the area, because every traveler worth his salt makes a point to stop by Moe’s Tavern while visiting our fair city.”
“I can see why. The thrift-store ambience is delightful and the watered down drinks are to die for,” she murmured as she rested against the side of his car. She was tired and weak from hunger and as much as she wanted to curl up in the back seat and sleep, she was scared she’d get used to the comfort he was offering and do something she might regret later.
She was trying to figure out how to cut and run without seeming ungrateful when her stomach growled loudly.
In a playful tone belaying the concern in his eyes, he asked, “Was that your stomach? Bloody hell, am I in danger? Are you going to try to eat me to satisfy the beast within?”
Feeling a blush color her face, she avoided his gaze as she said, “Sorry, I...um, I skipped dinner.” And breakfast and lunch for that matter.
Taking up a position next to her, he nudged her with his shoulder. “Tell the truth, when was the last time you ate something, lass?”
“Hmm, what day is it again?”
“As I suspected. Come on, I know just the spot.” Pushing off from the car, he gently moved her and opened the door to the backseat.
She wanted to fight, to tell him she could take care of herself. She would have too, if she had any energy at all. Meeting his eyes for the first time, she joked, “You lost a gamble, Captain. That doesn’t mean you have to feed it.”
“I consider it an act of self-preservation. I figured you for a man-eater the first moment I laid eyes on you, but I’m afraid you might prove me right in unexpected ways if we don’t get some food in you soon.”
“As long as eyes are all you plan on laying on me, I accept your gracious offer,” she replied with a narrowed stare. Before Neal, she trusted her instincts. She would have insisted they were infallible, but he had shaken her confidence. She couldn’t risk being wrong about Killian Jones of the electric eyes and perpetual helpfulness.
“No strings. No funny business, Swan. Those are the rules. Get in, your chariot and dinner awaits.”
He stood a few feet from her, urging her into the car and she wasn’t sure what drove her to say it, but before she could change her mind, the words were out. “I’d rather ride in the front this time if that’s okay with you.”
His smile could have melted metal, tempted angels to fall, and inspired devils to repent. It was probably lack of rest and food causing her stomach to do flip flops. Or at least that was what she was going to tell herself.
“Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have…” He closed the back door with a firm finality that echoed through the night and somehow felt momentous in the thick air of summer. When he opened the passenger door, the light seemed warmer and it bathed him in softness and shadows. He waited patiently as if he knew something had shifted between them and he didn’t want any sudden movements to break the odd spell.
Then her stomach growled again, angry at the promise of food being delayed while she gawked at the man who was determined to rescue her in every imaginable way.
“And dinner, of course.”
“Of course,” she whispered, taking care not to make contact with his body as she slid into the seat. She was glad the door was already closed when she left out a huff of air. Good thing she had sworn off love or she may be in some danger.
@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz
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mochegato · 4 years
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Hope on Board
Chapter 21 – Missed Opportunities
Chapter 1     Chapter 20
“You’re not going to be able to make it?  I put it on the calendar and everything.  Physical and digital,” Marinette pouted.
“I know,” Dick groaned in frustration with himself.  “But I’m telling you in advance this time.  I can’t make it.  I’ll watch videos.  I’ll give you extra back massages.  I’ll hire a personal instructor.  I’m sorry.”
“Dick… we rescheduled this twice so you could make it.”  Marinette knew her voice was getting exasperated and angry, but she couldn’t help it.  This kept happening.  He kept missing everything.  At this rate, he was going to miss the birth as well.
“I know but this is… This is really important, Mari,” he begged her to understand.  This could be the missing piece they needed.  He had to go.
“And this,” she indicated her belly, “isn’t?” She was giving him a hard, challenging look.
“That isn’t… I did not say that,” he answered indignantly.
“No, I know.  That wasn’t fair,” she conceded quickly.  It wasn’t Dick’s fault he was going to be gone and he was getting better.  He was letting her know in advance he wasn’t going to make the birthing class.  She collapsed against the counter, her shoulders slumping in defeat.  “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Dick let out a long pained sigh.  “I know this is frustrating.  I’m frustrated and upset.  I can’t control the timing for this, for any of this.  And it’s all happening at the same time and it’s all converging and I can’t control any of it.” Dick’s voice got increasingly aggravated as he spoke and his gestures wilder.  He hated the timing of all of this, but he needed to be there.  They had finally been able to track a talon and he needed to trade off with Wally to keep up the tail.  He was the leader.  It was his family he was defending.  He had to go.
Marinette sighed and squared her shoulders.  This was just as trying on him as it was on her and she desperately wanted him not to suffer because of things he couldn’t control.  She cupped his face to bring his focus back to her.  “Yeah, it sucks and I hate it.  But we just need to remember we love each other, right?  We love each other and we want to be together.” she gave him a long, luxuriant kiss. “The universe is messing with us. We aren’t going to let it win.”
Dick observed the determined, loving look in her eyes.  Her confidence grounded him.  Things were bad now, but they would get better.  He would stop this plot and then things would be better.  He rested his hands over hers and smiled.  “We’re going to take on the universe huh?”
Marinette nodded, eyes shining with mirth, “And win.  That part’s important.”
Dick chuckled indulgently. “Of course.  And win.  Together.”
“Together,” Marinette nodded. “As long as we work together and communicate and we’re honest with each other, there’s no way the universe can bring us down.”
It took almost the entirety of Dick’s over a decade of training to hide the wince that resulted from the ‘honest’ comment.  It was like her comment was designed to cut even though he knew it wasn’t.  It still hit hard.  As soon as this was over he could come clean.  He would be honest.  And there wouldn’t be any more secrets between them.  They just needed to hold out for a few more weeks… or months… God, he hoped it wasn’t longer than that.  Instead, he smiled and nudged her nose with his.  “I love you.”
Her responding smile was absolutely brilliant.  “I love you too, Bluebird.”
<><><><><> 
“I’m so sorry I’m going to miss it.”  The remorse in Marinette’s voice was clear even over the speaker.  She was still in the office working on a few last minute issues with Lucius on issues with the fabric.
“It’s okay, Marinette.  I understand,” Dick calmly assured her.
“Yeah, we get it, Pixie Pop.  Your show is coming up really… long time from now,” Jason teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes, reveling in the chaos he was unleashing.
“It isn’t long.  It’s short. Really short,” Marinette ranted, the words spilling out quickly.  “Only a few weeks.  Can you believe it’s just a few weeks away?  I should have everything done and be working on details now.  Rachel, do not emulate this.  I expect you to be better than me.”
Lucius chuckled.  “Every inventor and creator I know does this.  This is always what it is like right before a debut.  You’re doing fine.”
“I’ve seen what you have so far, it looks amazing already,” Stephanie assured her. And it did.  She was completely blown away with what Marinette had done.
“No kidding.  You made me willing to wear designer clothes,” Duke agreed.
“Do you need anything Marinette?  Do you need me to bring over something to eat or drink?  Did you take your vitamins today?” Dick fussed.  He knew how she was when she was working and it was already dinner time.  If he knew her, and he did, then she didn’t even realize how late it was yet.
“Thank you, Dick.  I’m fine. You guys just enjoy your night together. And yes I did,” she assured him. Despite not being able to see her, Dick knew she had a smile on her face.
“Okay, I’ll let you get back to work, but I’ll see you at home tonight, right? You’re not going to spend all night there working on it?” Dick asked pointedly.
“Don’t worry Mr. Grayson.  I’ll make sure she doesn’t work herself too hard.  I’ve already ordered food in for us and a company car to take Rachel home after dinner and another for Marinette at 9, so she has to leave by then,” Lucius assured him with a chuckle.
“You two do realize I’m not a child, right?” Marinette snapped.
“Of course.  You’re an adult.  An extremely self-sacrificing, prone to self-destruction adult.  You’ll fit right into the Wayne family whenever Mr. Grayson finally wakes up.” They could hear Lucius’ smirk through the phone as well as Rachel’s giggle and Marinette’s squeak.
“Rachel!” she exclaimed a few octaves higher than normal.  “Do not encourage him!”
“Absolutely encourage him,” Stephanie called out loudly.
“Rachel, you’re supposed to be on my side.” They could tell she was trying to be offended but couldn’t quite pull it off.  “You know what?  Don’t you have homework to do?  You should be doing your homework.”
“I already got my homework done before I came here and the essay that’s due Monday,” Rachel answered easily.
“Oh, well that’s… very well organized.  Good job, Rachel,” Marinette admitted grudgingly.
“Well, somebody here should be,” Lucius teased.
“And you!  You know what, you don’t need to be here.  In fact, you’re not welcome here anymore.  You can go home.  Call a car for yourself,” Marinette growled playfully.
“Might I remind you, this is my office,” Lucius responded, completely nonplussed by her comment.
“You might, but it won’t change my previous statement.”  Lucius’ laughter rang clear through the phone, a clear indication that Marinette had punctuated her retort by sticking her tongue out at him.
“Lucius, stop flirting with my girlfriend,” Dick implored with a smile.
“Mr. Grayson, if I wanted to flirt with your girlfriend, she would no longer be your girlfriend,” Lucius responded smoothly.
“Oooooooh, damn,” Duke laughed.  “So that’s what total destruction looks like.”
“Lucius,” Marinette admonished him, “don’t say true things like that to him. One of us being a nervous wreck with a tendency to spiral into anxiety induced death spirals and nightmares is enough.”
“You okay, fam?” Tim asked cautiously.  He looked over to Dick to see how much of what she had said should be taken seriously and judging by the frown on his face, all of it except the Lucius part.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Marinette answered in an overly confident, chipper voice. They could just picture the toothy, too wide grin on her face and twitching eye.  “Just another few weeks and it will all be over,” she continued. “One way or another,” she added quietly.
“I know you’re dreading the end of our association when you’re sought out by every major name in the business, but I think your future husband is more than happy to have you out of my influence,” Lucius teased.  “Until he realizes there’s another year on the contract.”
“Yeah, okay.  On that note, I’m going to let you get back to work so Marinette can get home and in bed at a reasonable time.  Lucius… I’m keeping my eye on you,” he said in a stern voice that anyone else might have taken as serious.
Lucius laughed.  “Understood, Mr. Grayson.  Have a good night.”
“Love you, Bluebird.  Have fun, guys.” Marinette called out to them.
“Night Marinette!” Jason, Duke, Stephanie and Tim yelled to her.
“Love you too.  Night,” Dick said before hanging up.  He tapped the phone against his lips with a concerned frown.  He wasn’t doing enough to lessen her stress.  She was still too stressed and it wasn’t good for the babies. Maybe he could give her a massage tonight.  He plastered on a smile and turned to the others.  “Let’s get this movie started.”
“Is she always like that?” Duke asked after a few minutes.
“Like what?” Dick tried to give him a confused look but Duke just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.  “Yeah, lately, yeah.  Stress from the show.  When the show is over she should be much more relaxed.  Adrien seems to think this is completely normal and expected for her.”
“Cass and I would take her out for another girl’s night if we thought it would help, but at this point, I don’t think there is anything we can do but not add to her stress,” Stephanie grimaced.
“What a thought, not adding to Pixie’s stress,” Jason glared at Dick, a look that Dick didn’t miss.
Tim looked awkwardly between Dick and Jason.  “So… going back to what Lucius said, you thinking about proposing to Marinette?”
Dick looked away from Jason and blinked a few times, trying to get his mind to switch tracks.  “I have a ring, but not now.  Not yet. We love each other, but I don’t think we’re there yet.  There’s still trust issues,” Dick shrugged.
Jason scoffed and took a drink.  “Have anything to do with you abandoning her regularly with no notice and sketchy ass excuses?”
Dick glared at him.  “Probably,” he growled, knowing full well that was exactly what it was.  All of their problems boiled down to the Titans and him focusing too much on figuring out the Court of Owl plan.  All the missed appointments, all the missed life events, all the broken promises, were all because of Titan activity.  
“Have you thought about just… telling her?” Tim asked carefully.
Dick drew in a deep, frustrated breath.  Of course he had.  They all pushed him to tell her constantly.  Bruce had even given his blessing.  He could just tell her and alleviate a lot of their issues, but he refused to put that on her while she was already under so much stress and according to the doctor, it was dangerous for her to be under any.  He couldn’t control the fashion show but he could control this.  He wasn’t going to endanger the twins and Marinette just to make himself more comfortable.
She already got so worried about him from the injuries he came home with.  She would get that adorable, heartbreaking concerned frown and furrowed brow every time she looked at them, and since some of them took weeks to heal, she had that expression every day, several times a day for weeks.  After one particularly bad fight with Double Dare, she had nightmares for days about him getting hurt and then the babies getting caught in an attack.  He wasn’t about to tell her he did that regularly and induce nightmares every night while she was pregnant.
“You know, you’re going to have a couple kids with her pretty soon.  It might be important information for her,” Jason prodded.
“If Grayson doesn’t want to tell her, he has every right not to,” Damian interjected.
“Thank you, Damian,” Dick responded, silently, momentarily thankful he didn’t have the same protective streak for Marinette that the rest of the family had acquired.
“He knows her better than the rest of us and if he does not find her trustworthy, that insight should be respected,” Damian finished, returning his attention to the movie.
“What?” Dick exclaimed looking back at Damian in shock.  Was that really what Damian was getting from this?  Is that why he thought Dick didn’t want to tell Marinette?  “That’s not… Damian that is not why I haven’t…”
“She should know if she’s going to be doing this alone,” Jason interrupted. His voice was hard and accusatory, as it often was with Dick lately.
Distantly, Dick heard someone gasp and shuffle around, but he was far too focused to process it.  “She won’t be doing it alone,” Dick growled back.  Jason had been exceptionally hostile lately, more so than even Adrien, but the insinuation that Dick would abandon his family was going too far. “I’m going to be there for her and the babies.”
“I can’t hear the movie,” Damian warned them.
“Shut it, Imitation’s Imitation,” Jason snarled before rounding back on Dick. “Are you?  When does that start?  ‘Cuz you sure as Hell haven’t been so far.”
“Jason,” Stephanie tried to interject.
“I’ve had…” Dick started.
“Yeah, yeah.  Vigilante business, which has always been more important than making baby appointments, more important than being there for Marinette.  You need to figure out if you’re Nightwing or a father.”
“I’m both,” Dick gritted out through his teeth.
“But which is more important?” Jason argued
“Being a father, of course,” Dick yelled out.
“That’s not how it looks right now.  How many appointments have you missed?  How many events?  You abandon her constantly for things that other people could easily handle and eventually, she’s going to figure out that you don’t actually work for WE, and what’s your plan for that?  Or is that plan?  Let her figure it out and walk away from you so you don’t have to be the bad guy?”
“Shouldn’t your loyalty be to Grayson?  You’ve switched loyalties rather quickly.  One look from a pretty woman and as expected you turn your back on your family,” Damian snarled, finally turning away from the movie.  
“What the fuck do you think she is?  She’s family.  She’s carrying your niece and nephew.  They are our family, all three of them even if Dickhead walks away from them.  They are still our family and they deserve some consideration too,” Jason yelled back.
Damian opened his mouth to respond but Cass moved next to him, shaking her head. Damian grunted, but acquiesced, letting Dick and Jason fight it out between themselves.
“What is your obsession with me leaving them?  It’s not going to happen.  I’m not going to abandon them!” Dick howled.
Jason shook his head and gave a bitter chuckle.  His voice suddenly back to an eerily normal level.  “You’re right.  You always are, Golden Boy.  ‘I’m not going to’ would imply a future event.  You already have abandoned them.”
“Fuck you!  I have not.” The lowering of Jason’s voice only made Dick’s anger surge.  He was acting like he won an argument, like it was already over.  It was far from over.  “I’ve been doing everything in my power to protect them.  Whatever the Court of Owls is planning it is going to be huge and devastating, and we now know it includes Gotham.  I’ve been doing nothing but investigating them for months to stop them.  I’ve fought talons, I’ve tracked down associates, fuck, I’ve gotten captured by talons and had to get saved by Garth and Donna.”
“They should have kept you,” Jason grumbled, heading to the door.  “I’m going to go check on Pixie Pop.  It’s getting late, someone should and naturally, that someone won’t be you.”
Dick seethed as he stared at the door Jason left through.  How dare he?  How dare he! He had no right to suggest not only was Dick abandoning them, but that he wanted to.  Abandoning her was the last thing he wanted to do.  He didn’t want to leave in the middle of dates.  He didn’t want to miss the babies kicking.  He didn’t want to miss entire weeks of development.  He didn’t want to miss snuggling with Marinette.  He didn’t want to sleep without her.  He did all of that because he was protecting her, because he loved her.  He couldn’t just pass off all of his responsibilities to someone else.  He was the team leader.  He had to be the one to make the decisions.
“You okay?” Tim asked gently.  He wanted to make sure Dick was okay, but wasn’t looking to incur his wrath.  Jason had said everything that needed to be said, now Dick just needed to calm down and consider the words.
“He doesn’t understand.  He doesn’t understand what it means to be a leader, what it means to be a father,” Dick growled.
Tim looked away and gave a heavy sigh.  He wasn’t listening.  He decided he was doing the right thing and he wouldn’t listen to any other opinions. He’d dedicated himself to this course and he wouldn’t be swayed.  He’d gotten better about it in the last few years, but still had miles to go.  “Maybe,” he granted, turning to look Dick, his eyes hardened to steel, “but he does know what it means to be abandoned.”
Chapter 22
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machineheralds-ho · 3 years
Text
Lizard - Chapter Thirteen - Viktor/OFC
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Pairing: Viktor/OFC
Synopsis: After ten years of working as a hired gun in the pits of Zaun, Elizabeth (Lizard, for some) finds her way back in the company of her childhood best friend who has thought her dead for the past five years.
Or, two idiots are in love and are too emotionally constipated to admit it.
A/N: I've said this before, but I really consider this story an origin for Lizard. So, let's pretend that Lizard's a champion in LoL, huh? And we all know how fun and happy the origin stories for our heroes are!
Insert here: glorious evolution! let's make everyone robots!
Rating: Mature audience only. Smuuuuuut.
Chapter Thirteen on AO3
That night changes things between myself and Viktor.
In the morning, I had lain there, eyes screwed shut and terrified of what I would find when I opened them. Viktor, however, had waited until my eyelids had fluttered open, before kissing my mouth very softly. I had stayed frozen in his arms, my skin alight with the feel of his hands drawing lazy circles on my forearm from where his arm encircled me.
When Viktor had pulled back, my brain had already all but short-circuited. I had quietly asked him, my cheeks pink, if he had been watching me sleep. The joke had fallen awkwardly from my mouth, any remaining brain cells all but feeling my head when Viktor had pressed his mouth to mine.
Viktor, in return, had shrugged and replied, ‘You are very interesting to watch, Elizabeth. Even when you are sleeping’.
And just like, his filter was gone.
There is no pretence that we are merely children from Zaun who have grown together; existing in a familial like relationship. It feels wrong, to allow myself to act on my affections for Viktor, after so long of pushing them to the deepest depths of me. From the way Viktor acts, he has no problem with this, his affection jarring.
We enter the lab together that same morning, quiet and smiling, and apparently this is all it takes for Jayce to put two and two together. Viktor tells me, later in the day when Jayce has gone to the bathroom, that most of the Academy had already assumed we were together. It was how I was allowed to stay with him at all.
‘Is that what we are then?’ I ask him, watching as he stands in front of another a large, new piece of equipment. Gifted, most likely, from one of Jayce’s many fans. He pulls is hand away from intricate mechanisms, and casts me a sideways glance, his own mouth opening at the question. ‘Together?’
Viktor pauses, pulls himself to his full height, and replies, ‘Is that what you want?’ I am reminded of the stubborn boy of my youth, so fully of ambition and want.
I pause.
There are two answers to this question.
Yes, and this is the truth. I want to be with Viktor in all ways; I have loved him since I was a child and to be in his life for another fifteen years would be…like nothing I had ever thought myself worthy of. It was a terrifying idea, to allow myself to be fully open to a person, and yet Viktor was the only person alive I could imagine such a scenario with.
And then, no. No, because it is selfish to be with him. I have ties in the undercity that could still be my ruin; enemies beyond my promise to Silco and a past so dark that I could scarcely see it anymore. I was dangerous and cold and not at all who Viktor deserved.
And yet, selfishly, I tell him, ‘You’re the only person I have considered a…part of me,’ I respond, eyes cast toward the machinery. I choose selfishness. ‘I won’t be…I’m not like…like, I don’t know - Sky, Viktor. She got out before it could - the undercity clings to me. The only reason I act so-so cold is because I…I have never been, and will never be, worthy of your feelings for me’.
(Because I am lying to you. Because I could be dead in a few years, and I won’t tell you that).
I peek up to find him staring at me, eyes wide and mouth open, before he clenches his jaw and uses his cane to turn himself sharply toward me. ‘I have known you since you were a young child,’ Viktor murmurs, amber gaze boring into my own. He steps closer still, his chin dipping low so that he can maintain eye contact with me. ‘And I have seen you do terrible things – but always in the name of the greater good; always in the name of helping others-’
I laugh, a bitter sound. ‘I was an assassin, Viktor-’
‘Because there were no other options,’ he all but hisses the words, his gaze narrowing. ‘And that is what my research is about. Bettering the lives of people who believe they have no other choice. You have always been at the root of my passions, Elizabeth, of my want to be better-’
I blink in shock, breathless as Viktor draws himself to a stop, his smile suddenly apologetic.
‘I apologise. It merely…it hurts me, when you doubt your own humanity’. He looks at me, expression soft and the anger wearing way, and says, ‘You would have been a writer, were you born in Piltover. I have always thought this. You would come up with the most fantastical tales for the younger children in our neighbourhood’.
The memory sends a sudden pang to my chest. How innocent I had been, back when my parents were alive, and Viktor had not been swept away by the Academy. I feel a pang of longing at the memory; of a want to be back in that time, in that place. We would sit in the streets, Viktor tinkering at my side, and I would tell tall tales to the kids of our street, bidding away fears of sickness and violence.
My words fail me. I look at Viktor, at his bright eyes and sharp jaw and swept hair, and the only thing I can think to do is to lean forward and kiss Viktor solidly on the mouth, my hand coming to thread lightly through his soft hair.
Viktor hums in surprise, before I feel the tug of his mouth against mine. He’s smiling, I realise.
(And I choose selfishness. I choose saying yes to Viktor, even if that means lying to him).
Jayce bursts in moments later, grumbling about Councillor Salo. Viktor pulls away from me after just a moment too long, his fingers pressing hard line in my side as he drags himself from me. Jayce, wrapped up in ranting, turns his back to us, and Viktor smiles at me, rolls his eyes, and turns to his friend.
‘What has he done now, Jayce?’
We resume our work; the men clanging loudly with their recently donated machinery. I had very little interest in delving into it, despite their offers. Though I found their work fascinating and extraordinary, I knew where my strengths lay, and inventing was not it.
And, honestly, the Hexcore scared me a little bit.
Sky enters, at one point, her smile bright and her arms cradling a small box filled to the brim with letters. I gape at it.
‘You’ve got to be joking’.
She shrugs and dumps the box onto my table. It shakes under the weight. ‘Sorry, Liz,’ she says, her bright smile turning instead to the two inventors. Both greet her warmly, pretending as if they hadn’t just been in the midst of bickering. ‘Jayce – I have a small speech written for the luncheon the day after tomorrow. I’ve made sure to mention the progress you two have made with the prototypes-’
And as they huddle together, discussing elaborate things that I could not begin to comprehend, I feel suddenly so…undercity.
My lack of education, though not abundantly apparent (I did have Viktor for most of my childhood), became glaringly obvious when Sky was around. She was from the undercity and had escaped it, subsequently flourishing in Piltover.
And what had I done? I had been topside for months upon months, and still I opened letters for Viktor and Jayce like it was my life’s ambition. And yet…what choices did I have? I took a job I was offered, that paid more than most jobs in the undercity would, and was grateful.
But now…I was up here now. Like Silco said, it could be years before I was allowed in the undercity again. But what experience did I have, to do anything up here? I had no real schooling, no skills outside of killing and fighting and wielding my blades. I had no idea what I was even interested in, outside of reading, but even that I hadn’t partaken in since I was a child.
I feel a sudden pang of longing for the feel of roof tiles beneath my feet as I stalked the lanes of Zaun; of knowing that there was a fight coming. I was good at it – at stalking my prey and circling it, hunting for some kind of trouble-
I snap out my thoughts, blinking at the letter that I had been staring at for who knows how long, before ripping it open with numb fingertips.
I felt useless and stupid and unremarkable.
Bitterly, and without real depth, I think of how in the undercity I was someone.
-
After enduring a week of Viktor’s lingering touches and pointed kisses (always in the confines of an empty lab, or his apartment), I am decidedly…on the edge. I desperately want to mimic the intimacy of the week before, and yet…the encounter had somehow made me feel more starved than ever.
I wanted Viktor to me the one touching me.
And yet, he had made no move beyond kissing and touching. He was distracted, always so preoccupied with bettering the world, and I was…a fucking coward, really. Always so doubtful of pushing too hard, of being too much-
And yet, I was sure I was not the only one feeling so frustrated. On one night, I had awoken with a start into the dark quiet of the bedroom, suddenly alert and hot and half tempted to wake Viktor then and there. I had almost done so, but chickened out at the last moment, rolled over, and fallen back to sleep.
The breaking point comes during an argument.
Viktor had been busy in the lab, developing something he called the Hexclaw, whilst I had fallen into a quiet vat of simmering frustration and boredom. Viktor, though prodding often to find out what was wrong with me, allowed me to be quiet in my mood. Though he asked me if I was alright, he never delved too deep.
On a one occasion, he had thought my sour mood to be a product of my own demons.
‘I cannot pretend to know what it is like to have lived your life, dorogoy’. He told me, gently, one night as I lay in his arms. ‘You have faced hardships that I escaped. When you are ready, you tell me what is wrong’.
And I felt so guilty for even thinking that I was not completely happy; that I should be angry at Viktor for not making a move.
Viktor leaves me to my own devices when I slink off during that week, pleased when I report that I had visited the library. I found it to be quiet and massive, with tall ceilings and thousands of books – I used to dream of places like it, when I was little and hopeful.
On my first visit, I check out ten books.
When Viktor had seen them, stacked tidily on top my bedside table, he had chuckled at my guilty expression and kissed my forehead like I was made of glass.
That seemed a million years ago, considering how grumpily Viktor looked at me now.
‘I didn’t say I was going, I said I wished I could!’ I snap, the carrots I had been chopping long forgotten on the counter behind me. ‘I’m not stupid, Viktor. I wouldn’t go to the undercity – not with Silco specifically telling me not to!’
I had, without quite thinking, said that I wished there were a way that I could sneak into the undercity to see how Ruby was doing. I would give her some of the money I saved, insisting that she secure herself a better home away from The Bloody Body.
It had been a silly wish, one that I wished I hadn’t of said the moment Viktor turned to me with such a cross expression wrinkling his features.
‘Forgive me if I am wrong, but the last time you had Lucky after you - and yet you still went down there, Elizabeth!’ he snaps waspily. He had already stormed from the living room to the kitchen, his hair curling in the steam of my cooking.
The moment Viktor had come over, I had turned the cooker off. If I knew anything, it was that when he got going in an argument, there was virtually no stopping him.
I throw my hands in the air. ‘Because Silco was after me!’ I all but screech, slapping my fingers against my palm to reiterate just how many times I have told him this.
Viktor clenches his haw, eyes ablaze as he towers over me, his hair a disarray after a day in the lab. He inches forward, sighing deeply through his nose, and snaps, ‘Even after all these years, you’re still as-’
‘Insufferable as always,’ I mimic, thinking of the number of times he had uttered those words to a teenage me. I level my gaze with Viktor’s hotly, to which he narrows his own. ‘And you’re as predictable as ever-’
He hisses a breath sharply through his nose, casts his eyes at the ceiling as if praying for patience, and all but smashes my mouth against his. His free hand draws quickly to the back of my head, and my body sighs in relief at the feel of his fingers digging into the flesh of my scalp.
I briefly consider that if being insufferable gave me this punishment, then I would continue to be insufferable for as long as I lived.
And it is not akin to the soft kisses he had been bestowing me with all week. He presses himself against me, lips moving against mine in a desperate, hot fashion. He draws me flush against him and I all but scramble forward, tiptoeing to throw my arms around his neck and drag him to me. The motion causes Viktor lose his balance, his shoulder suddenly hitting the cupboard above the sink.
I pull away, apology on my lips, but Viktor shushes me in such a way that has heat coiling in my belly, before he ducks his head and latches his mouth onto the exposed skin of my jaw. He crowds me, his form bending over mine, and mine reaching to meet his. We are clumsy, uncharacteristically so, until I realise it is because Viktor is trying to push me toward the small kitchen table.
My mind, foggy with the feel of him, catches up slowly. I drag my hand from his shoulders, to his vest, and cling to him as the table hits my bum.
Viktor pulls away from my neck. My eyes flutter open, and I catch him eyeing my neck with a darkening in his eyes, before he jerks forward, cane clattering to the floor, and all but pushes me onto the table behind me. I scramble to push myself up onto the surface, my chest heaving and my eyes heavy.
My fingers curl tighter into the fabric of Viktor’s vest, and I blink, eyes focusing on his face, only a few inches form mine. In that split second, I see ruffled hair and amber eyes blown black, and waste no time in curling my leg around the back of his good one.
Viktor draws himself to me, mouth on mine, and flattens his palm onto the space of table next to me as he all but falls into me. ‘I want to…to touch you,’ he says with little warning, his body curved over mine. I blink up at him breathlessly, already nodding before he has added, ‘Like you touched yourself, dorogoy-’
He spies my nod and, with the deftness that only inventors hands could bring, he uses his free hand to untuck my shirt from my pants, his body leaning heavily against the table beneath me. My stomach flips, my shaky hands coming to already unbutton my trousers.
Viktor kisses me, flicks my hand away with his fingers, and takes over this task. I swallow tightly, body taut with nerves and heart hammering so loudly in my chest that I was half sure Viktor could hear it.
And then he is dipping forward, his nose brushing against mine, and I shift forward at the same moment his fingers trail over the exposed skin of my abdomen. I murmur his name without quite meaning to, my mouth running loose at the feel of his touch, and suck in a breath when his hand dips lower, fingers pushing breath the material of my underwear.
‘Viktor,’ I beg quietly. Me, the Lizard, begs. ‘Please’.
His mouth flattens against mine at the same moment his fingers dip lower and lower, cool skin suddenly finding where I am warm and-
Viktor says something softly against my mouth, a curse from his mother tongue, and slides his fingers against me. ‘Gods,’ he breathes, and I go warm at the sound. His breath mingles hotly with mine, my body arched forward and stuck as if suspended by the feeling his fingers were dragging out of me. ‘Elizabeth, you…are you always so wet, when we-?’
‘Yes,’ I answer blindly, too desperate to be bashful. ‘Shit, Viktor - please move your fucking hand’.
He huffs laugh, before doing just that. His mouth pulls from mine, and I try very hard not to whine at the loss of contact. Viktor’s head dips, suddenly, his body drawing back as if to look at something. He breathes sharply, fingers touching me once again, pushing further south this time. I blush scarlet, realising that he was looking at his fingers as they touched me.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmurs so quietly that I almost do not hear him.
And then, he delves in.
He touches me as he had watched me do to myself, his fingers drawing similar circles against my clit, so agonisingly slowly that it takes no time for me to begin murmuring his name like a broken chant. His other hand, once resting on the tabletop, comes to rest against my thigh, his fingers digging in and hitching my leg wider-
And there is an ache, one that I had never bothered to think about when I had touched myself alone. With Viktor’s fingers circling and teasing me, I was suddenly so jarringly aware of how much I wanted that ache to be filled. I gulp, every bit of control I had over myself falling and falling…and then Viktor’s fingers go lower still, prodding almost slowly at my entrance.
‘Oh,’ I gasp, eyes screwed shut and hips all but lifting off of the table. In response, his hand presses firmer against my thigh. ‘Please – yes,’ not even knowing if he knew what I was asking him to do, until he presses in, fingers only spurred on by the roll of my hips-
Viktor swears, and I whine.
(‘If it hurts,’ Ruby had told me. ‘Then he ain’t doing it right, Liz’).
‘Is this okay?’ Viktor asks me, and I must nod, because he hums and leans in, his mouth hovering over my neck, his lips tickling the skin there. I huff a gasp, and his fingers press in deeper still, and I am so wet and so desperate for him, that I can’t imagine this ever hurting – of him ever hurting me-
And then, like the over achiever he is, Viktor begins to move his fingers, and I am gone.
‘Look at you,’ Viktor mutters. I open my eyes to a squint and think, yeah, look at me. Legs spread, mouth open, chest heaving, and Viktor’s hand down my open pants. I think of the debauchery of it; to be doing this on his kitchen table, and decide that seems to only turn me on even more. ‘You take me so well, Elizabeth, always so good for me-’
The praise, as always, sings in my blood. ‘Could t-take more,’ I breathe, without really thinking, hips stuttering to move in time with his fingers. His hand on my thigh, though, keeps from me from pushing against him.
Viktor makes an odd choking noise. His fingers slide out, so fucking slowly, and then in. I can feel it, how wet I am against him, and in a world in which I was not bordering mad with lust, I might have been embarrassed. ‘Elizabeth. Don’t-’
‘I could,’ I say, and suddenly that is all that I want. I blink open my eyes and look at him. Viktor’s own expression is both stunned and downright wrecked, both his eyes and pupils wide. ‘R-right now. Your bed is just in there, or-or just on this table, like this-’
His jaw slackens, and Viktor looks at an honest loss for words. ‘Elizabeth-’
I am not entirely sure why I keep talking – whether it is from genuine want, or the need to continue to made Viktor say my name in such a manner, I’m not sure. Either way, there was no stopping me. I was alight and desperate, the thrum that Viktor was igniting inside of me with every draw of his fingers was slowly driving me mad. ‘I’ve-I’ve felt you,’ I rush out, chest heaving. Viktor looks down at me, eyes growing dark and darker. ‘You’re so b- fuck, I want you, Viktor-’
‘Stop it-’ he breathes, eyes wide as he stares down at me, apparently enthralled by the surge of words that continue to leave me. His words die as he thrusts himself forward, his mouth latching roughly onto my neck, teeth scraping-
‘I do,’ I tell him, desperate and close and I can’t stop talking. Viktor pulls his mouth from my neck, drawing back until he can look at me, and yet I still rant and rave. ‘Fuck – I do. I want it - you. After I - I felt you against me that night, all I can think about is how easy it would have been for you to have just pulled your cock out and fucked me-’
Viktor’s hand on my thigh takes on a near bruising touch.
I am a mad woman, entirely possessed by the feel of his fingers inside of me; of Viktor being the first person to touch me there, like this. His pace falters as he stares at me, mouth open and cheeks red and I almost come right there, just staring at how utterly destroyed he looks. He dives forward, suddenly, and kisses me hotly beneath the ear.
‘I have a theory,’ Viktor says, voice hot and warm. I jerk at the feeling, and his fingers slowly begin moving between my legs again. I stutter out a sigh, legs spreading and mouth open as his hair tickles my cheek. ‘That the closer you get to coming, the more you talk, Elizabeth’.
He curls his fingers unexpectedly, and I feel his mouth curve against my ear at the same time pleasure all but twists inside of me, so close to snapping-
‘There it is,’ Viktor mutters, almost to himself.
I am so gone that I can barely hear him anymore. This – this was nothing compared to the times I would touch myself, beyond even Viktor telling me to touch myself in his presence. I remember thinking, for many years, whether Viktor would truly be talented with his hands outside of inventing. The thought would make me blush and yet, now…
I am babbling again, spurred by the shaking in my legs and the agonisingly slow pace Viktor had elected to take on. He curls his fingers again, apparently noticing my mouth beginning to open, and I catch him smirk when I choke on my breath.
Viktor takes this as the perfect moment to flatten his palm over my mound, pressing firmly against my clit, and I all but shatter. ‘Viktor,’ I whine, and that isn’t me, it can’t be. ‘Oh, fuck, Viktor, please let me come, please j-just harder, please-’
His own breath hitches in front of me, and I watch his jaw jump as he delves suddenly deeper, his shoulders tensing as his fingers move deeper inside of me, his eyes calculating at he gauges my reactions. ‘Tell me,’ he all but growls, and were I not looking at him and were it not for the accent, I would not think those words had come from my Viktor.
And I am reminded yet again that Viktor is a man grown, and not the ambitious twenty-year-old I had left behind five years ago.
‘I’m almost- so close,’ I tell him, quiet and breathy and words falling out of my mouth in a rush. I cling to him, my fingers tight against his upper arm, his muscles tensing with every drive and curl of his fingers against me. ‘Shit – can’t you just – you could just-just fuck me right here, I-I can see how hard you are, you could-could just-’ I am shameless, the words a desperate plea to feel him, to fill this building ache inside of me.
Viktor’s pace picks up, cutting off my words in a sharp choke at the back of my throat. His forehead falls heavily against mine, his lips brushing against my own as I gasp his name. ‘Do not tempt me, Elizabeth,’ he rasps.
It is the sheer desperation in his tone, timed with a perfect curl of his fingers and a sudden pressure from his palm against my clit - and I am coming.
It snaps inside of me, my body clenching, my back arching. Viktor’s hand moves from my thigh to slide suddenly to the expanse of my neck, dipping my head back as his hot breath fans over my mouth. His fingers slow, and he so perfectly rides my orgasm out in ways that Ruby had told me men never knew how to do.
I think I say his name, though the sound gets lost in the murmurs he presents me with, his mother tongue lilting from above me as I screw my eyes shut and focus only this feeling – of knowing that someone else had brought me to this brink, to this euphoria-
I suddenly feel very much like crying.
Viktor holds me. I flop forward, and he moves until my forehead rests against his chest and hands rub soothing circles over the expanse of my back. It takes me a moment to come to, to realise what it is that he is murmuring to me.
‘-So good. So perfect. Everything I could have dreamed – you have no idea how you have surpassed all of my expectations, Elizabeth. You are so warm and responsive and-’
We cook, after Viktor has carefully buttoned up my pants and I have hopped off of the table to retrieve his cane from the floor. His kisses my forehead once, his thumbs rubbing over my pink flushed cheeks, and I stare unabashedly up at him with a bright, tired smile on my face.
We don’t mention the argument.
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chaoticminhos · 4 years
Text
coughing up the butterflies that died in my stomach when you broke my heart
--”It was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.”
pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader
genre: mafia au, angst, fluff, smut
warnings: death, guns, chan’s kind of an asshole
word count: 9.7k
a/n: this is the longest shit i’ve written to date n i’m kinda super really proud of it, also sorry for the total fall out boy move i pulled with the title hhh i just like it a lots
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you let out a content sigh as your boyfriend trailed his lips along your neck, biting down lightly and sucking on a sweet spot he knew by heart by now. he pulled away and admired his work before capturing your lips with his, pressing your hips down against his growing bulge and making an attempt to deepen the kiss. you pulled away from him with a giggle.
“hyunjin, i really have to go. i promised my dad i’d be up early to help him with some work stuff tomorrow.”
he pouted, “what do you even have to do? why can’t he do it himself?”
you laughed at your boyfriends clingy behavior, “i’m supposed to talk to some girls he’s considering hiring. says i’m less threatening than a tall, scary-looking old man.”
“what’s he hiring for?”
you sighed, he always did this. whenever the topic of your fathers business came up, he could never let it go.
“hyunjin.”
“what?” he tossed a hand in the air, keeping the other delicately on your waist, “is it so bad that i’m curious what my girlfriend does for a living?”
you sighed as he continued.
“i mean, we’ve been together for months and i still know basically nothing about your family business,” he let out a small laugh, “i’m starting to think it’s something illegal.”
you scoffed, smiling down at your boyfriend.
“baby, it’s not illegal, it’s just... private.”
“sounds pretty sketchy to me.”
you brought your lips to his again, smiling against them as you lifted yourself off of his lap with a giggle. he reached out to you with a pout on his face as you distanced yourself from him.
“baby, no, stay a little longer.”
you laughed, tossing your phone into your bag with the rest of your things and putting on your shoes.
“i would if i could, jinnie.”
the pout remained on his lips until you made your way back to him and gave him a last kiss before leaving for the night.
“i love you.”
“love you too.” he smiled up at you from his position on the couch. 
the smile left his features the second the door shut behind you, sinking deeper into his couch with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, and pulling out his phone to dial his bosses number to give his daily update.
it was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.
the phone rang a couple times before it was picked up, his bosses voice on the other end.
“anything new?”
“no, chan.” he ran a hand across his face, “same as the last five months. she still won’t tell me anything.” he sat up, “and she’s never going to. can’t we just accept that this mission failed and find another way to compromise the park mafia?”
“she’ll crack or slip up eventually, hyunjin. she loves you.”
hyunjin let out an exaggerated sigh before ending the call, “who doesn’t?”
he gathered his own things and stepped outside of the apartment, locking the door behind him. although his gang owned the place and he could stay there if he wanted to, he much rather preferred the mansion with the 8 other boys. they’d only bought this small apartment for the sake of his current mission, you’d obviously know something was up if he took you to a huge mansion. 
no, to you, he lived in a small, mediocre apartment that had a creaky floor and annoying neighbors. to you, he worked as a teachers assistant for the college the both of you were attending and that’s how he got his money. 
it was partially true, he did attend the same university as you. you were a freshman and he was in his sophomore year. he didn’t work as a teachers assistant, though. chan provided all the money he needed to keep afloat so he had no reason to work a regular job. to be fair, dating you was kind of like his job. 
he was majoring in business, just like you were. that’s how he made himself present in your life, sharing so many classes with you.
a few weeks into the first semester of your freshman year you ran into someone while on your way to class, bumping right into the chest of one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. you later learned his name to be hwang hyunjin.
“oh, i’m sorry!” you squeaked before looking up to see who you’d accidentally crashed into. 
“it’s okay, that was totally my fault.” he reached his hand out to you with a big smile, “i’m hyunjin.”
you hesitantly took his hand, face flushing as your skin came into contact with his, “y/n.”
“where are you headed, y/n?”
“i have a business lecture soon.” 
“really? so do i! let’s walk together.”
you awkwardly agreed. there wasn’t any way for you to get out of it, not that you really wanted to. despite your shy behavior at first, he kept a good conversation going as he walked you to class. you told him that you were majoring in business to help out with your family business and he told you that the only thing that stressed him out more than classes was his dog.
he offered a small wave when you two split as you entered the classroom.
you sat in your usual spot and glanced to see where he was seated. how had you never noticed him before? sure, the class was huge and there were a bunch of people but you were sure you would have noticed someone like him before. now that you had noticed him, though, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.
you recognized some of the boys he sat with. jeongin was a freshman just like you, so you had met him during the freshman introductory meetings and all the ‘student bonding’ activities the school made freshman go to. you knew jisung as well, he was in your biology class. you’d even been paired with him for a project at the way start of the year. he was a good partner, even though he complained the whole time about being one of the only sophomores in a class full of freshman. it was okay though, because he stated that you were an okay freshman.
as you continued to scan his friends for anyone you knew, you noticed him looking in your direction as well. his eyes caught yours and you turned your head quickly, face flushing red as you turned to the front. 
you spent the whole class thing of and sneaking glances at the pretty boy you’d bumped into earlier that day.
hyunjin had asked for your phone number that day after class was over, stating with a red face that he was going to ask you before but he got too scared. from then on, the two of you texted constantly and it wasn’t long before he asked you on a date. you obviously said yes. 
you quickly learned that he was so much more than a just pretty face. he told you more about his dog and how much he loved animals, his eyes lighting up whenever you asked how kkami was doing. he talked so fast when he was speaking of something he really cared about, tripping over his words and apologizing every other sentence for it. he’d gotten over that by now, he stopped apologizing when you told him you thought it was cute. 
he told you about his friends and even introduced you to them. the first time you met them was at his small apartment and you were amazed that you and all 9 of the boys could fit in there. jisung recognized you from class and even remembered your name, which surprised you. you didn’t think of yourself as very memorable. he said someone as pretty as you was very memorable. hyunjin said jisung wasn’t allowed to talk anymore if all he was going to do was flirt with you and you laughed because as much as you enjoyed his friends already, no one could take you away from him.
about a month into the relationship, you had become close with all of the boys. you spent most of your time with hyunjin, but you no longer felt awkward with the other boys around and you weren’t embarrassed by their teasing about you and hyunjin anymore. you learned that most of them were also focusing on business. the only ones who weren’t were jeongin and seungmin, who were in computer programming,
you thought it was odd at first that so many of them were in business. your father always told you to be careful around groups of friends that all majored in business, but many of them had family businesses to take over or help with, just like you. you figured their family ran different sorts of businesses than yours did, but a business is a business no matter how big or legal.
despite your dad not trusting your business major boyfriend or his friends, you came to trust them all very quickly. especially hyunjin.
even after just a month and a half of dating, you knew you loved him. you called him the night you realized it and told him. you figured there was no point in waiting, you had these feelings and you weren’t sorry for it. you could practically hear his smile through the phone as he told you he loved you too. 
when you told your dad you loved him, he told you to break up with him. 
“i don’t trust them,” he said, “they’re probably a gang.”
“they’re not a gang, dad. not every kid majoring in business is doing it to help their father run an illegal business like i am.”
illegal. 
sometimes the word illegal made your stomach feel weird. sure, you knew your dads business wasn’t clean, but it wasn’t anything terrible either. it’s not like you assisted with sex trafficking girls or blowing up buildings with bombs. your dad assured you that nothing you assisted with was ever to hurt anyone or cause anyone danger. you just laundered money. and it wasn’t like you were the ones selling the drugs, you just cleaned the money made from others selling the drugs. it’s different. and you believed him. after all, your dad was a good man. he’d gotten involved with some sketchy men and now your family was roped into illegal activities, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone and he was just doing what was best for your family and following orders from his boss. he owned his company, but he still worked for someone else. so even if there was anything strongly against your morals, it wouldn’t be like you had a choice. 
he explained it to you as a partnership of sorts. they got the money, you weren’t 100% sure how, but selling drugs or theft of various kinds was most likely, and all your family did was clean up the money. 
but even then, you knew what you did was very, very illegal. just because you were following orders doesn’t mean you couldn’t get charged. you had to keep everything you did quiet and you couldn’t talk to anyone but your own family about it. your dad made it clear what could happen if anything about it got out. lots and lots of legal action, or, if you somehow managed to evade the police, being killed by his superiors for messing up.
so to everyone other than your mom and dad, you were just a rich family who liked to invest in places and own buildings. it made a lot of money and it gave you means to launder the money through. you would figure out ways to slip the dirty money into transactions and make it legitimate and able to use.
it was hard keeping it from hyunjin, you didn’t like lying to him. okay well, technically you didn’t have to lie too much, but you had to keep a lot of the truth away from him. sometimes you wished you could talk to him about things, this type of work gets pretty stressful and there’s some stuff you don’t really want to talk to your parents about. plus, whenever you voiced your anxiety revolving around the business and being involved in it you got the same lecture about it being nothing to worry about so long as you keep your mouth shut about it all and don’t mess up.
you couldn’t talk about it much, but hyunjin asked about your work a lot. you knew it was just because it’s kind of weird when your significant other doesn’t really talk about their job. he understood that it was private though. you told him you handled a lot of the financials for things and that stuff was best kept to just employees. again, it wasn’t really a lie! you did handle a lot of money and financials. maybe you should have taken more than the base level economics classes in high school. 
you thought nothing of his curiosity, you’d be curious if he didn’t talk much about his job, either. he made a lot of jokes about you being a secret spy and things like that which made you laugh. he made jokes about you being involved with illegal things, too, but you knew he was joking. he didn’t know, there would be no way for him to know, so you always blew it off and joked back.
but he did know. him and the rest of the boys, they knew as much as there was to know about your family business. they knew who your father was and they knew what type of business he ran. in fact, they knew more about the type of industry your father ran than you did yourself. you were under the impression that the family business consisted of cleaning dirty money, but that was just the start of what your father ran.
he was the head of one of the most dangerous korean mafias, the largest one known for sex trafficking in the country. stray kids focused their attention on bringing down people like your father. sure, they had to pull some legal strings of their own to accomplish their goals, but it was for the benefit of others in the long run. plus, they didn’t hurt innocents. not any more than they had to, at least. 
you, however, were not innocent. most of the boys, hyunjin included, had given up on the idea of you knowing much about your fathers business. they thought you genuinely didn’t know anything bad was happening, but chan was convinced it was an act. no one could be as involved in a business as you were and not know specifics about it. no, you knew what your father ran, he was sure of it.
hyunjin turned the doorknob to the mansion and stepped inside, locking it behind him. he was probably the last home, and if he wasn’t, everyone had a key. 
he carried his things to his room before heading back down the stairs and into the living room where all 8 of his friends were sitting and chatting.
he plopped himself down in an empty spot beside felix on the couch, immediately addressing chan.
“it’s a waste of my time, dude. she doesn’t know anything.”
hyunjin watched as chans jaw clenched. he did not want to be having this argument again.
“she does, hyunjin.”
“i don’t think she does, hyung. and even if she did, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anything out of her.” jisung spoke up.
“she’ll slip up, jisung.”
it was hyunjins turn to speak again, “it’s been over five months and she hasn’t shown any sign of knowing anything about what her father does. i think she really thinks it’s just a normal business.”
“if she thought it was a normal business why would she be so secretive about it?” chan challenged.
hyunjin shrugged, “lots of completely legal things need to be kept secret.”
“you just want to be able to break up with her so you can whore around campus again.” felix teased, causing hyunjin to send a glare in his direction.
“she thinks she’s my girlfriend felix, i have no problem getting my dick wet.”
“even with your dick in her you can’t get any more information out of her in nearly six months than jisung did during a two week bio project.” 
“why are you complaining, jinnie? i’d be all over her if i didn’t know who her father was.” minho chimed in, also earning a glare from hyunjin.
“shut the fuck up.”
“you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”
chan cleared his throat to interrupt the bickering, turning to address hyunjin again.
“give it until the six month mark. if she still hadn’t cracked or slipped by then, we’ll find another way.”
hyunjin scoffed, “what, send another one of us on a useless goose chase to try to get information out of her she doesn’t even have?”
“hyunjin, i get that you’re frustrated and six months is a long time to pretend you love someone, but-“ 
he didn’t quite catch the rest of what his leader said, his mind pausing for a moment at those words.
“pretend to love someone.”
he wasn’t given time to analyze why those words made something inside of him churn before chan was snapping his fingers in front of his face to gain his attention back.
“are you good, jinnie?”
“yeah,” he sighed, brushing off his brief moment of discomfort, “just exhausted.”
“it’s hard work, man. you’re a good actor. she really thinks you’re head over heels for her.”
a laugh fell from his lips, “where’s my fucking emmy?”
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three weeks.
 just three more weeks and then he could end things with you. three more weeks until he could stop going to that shitty apartment every day after his classes and instead just head straight home to the mansion. god, it’s been forever since he was able to go home before sundown. he always had to stay at the apartment until late at night on the chance that you’d want to see him or come over.
three weeks he reminded himself as he got up to address the knocking at the apartment door. he greeted you with a smile and wide arms.
“hey, baby.”
you snuggled into his chest, “i missed you.”
“you literally saw me last night, you crybaby.”
you pouted up at him, “it’s been almost 24 hours! that’s way too long!”
he laughed before placing a kiss to your nose, lightly holding your arm and leading you to his living room. 
“i already picked a movie, but you can choose a different one if you want.”
you glanced at the screen and pretended to think for a moment, he knew you could never say no to this movie, it was one of your favorite.
“i guess this one will do.”
he chuckled as he made himself one with the couch, opening his arms to welcome you into them while the movie started. he pulled a blanket up over the two of you and secured his arms around you, making sure you were comfortable before focusing his attention on the movie.
about halfway through the film, your witty comments and replies to your boyfriend stopped and were replaced with tiny snores. feeling tired himself, he shut the movie off and reached for his phone to let chan know he would be staying at the apartment tonight. he couldn’t leave you here alone, a real boyfriend wouldn’t do that. he carefully shifted your bodies so you were both laying down and you started to stir, a small groan of annoyance passing your lips.
“shh, baby, go back to sleep.”
you complied, immediately falling back into slumber. as he secured his arms around you once again and you buried your face in his chest in your sleep, he couldn’t help but to smile. 
you looked so cute when you were asleep. how did you manage it? you weren’t even doing anything, but you made a funny feeling pool in his stomach. without much thought, hyunjin placed a soft kiss to your forehead.
“goodnight, baby.”
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two weeks.
 well, technically it was a week and 6 days. that’s how much longer he had to keep the ruse up. but that countdown was far from his mind.
he was in your apartment this time, and the second you opened the door for him, he had it slammed shut with your back pressed against it. you let out a surprised noise as his lips crashed to yours, but you made no effort to stop it. it was messy, full of teeth, but you couldn’t get enough of it.
you were finally able to speak when he pulled away and started trailing kisses down your neck.
“hyunjin, what’s gotten into you?”
“just,” he spoke between kisses, “had a long day.”
he had multiple tests and he was sure he bombed most, if not all, of them. he was angry and frustrated and he needed to calm down. the first thing that came to his mind whenever he needed to destress was the same as always— you.
you let him pick you up and you wrapped your legs around his body as he carried you to your bedroom, lips never leaving your own. he’d been here so many times that he knew where he was going without having to look.
he laid you with your back to the mattress and wasted no time ridding the both of you of clothes. 
he brought his lips to your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth and sucking. you moaned at the feeling, he knew just what you liked and he delivered every single time he took you to bed.
you whined when he removed himself from your breast, the cold air hitting your wet nipple. he traced sloppy, wet kisses down your stomach and across your thighs, stopping before he could reach where you wanted him most.
you would have whined, but you were cut off by his finger suddenly entering you and his lips attaching to your core. he pumped his finger in and out of you slowly before adding another, and then another until you were moaning out that you were close. he pulled away, earning an annoyed huff from your mouth. you’d expected it though, he loved to tease you.
it wasn’t long before he was bottoming out and pounding into you so hard that you almost felt sorry for your neighbors for having to hear the bed squeak like it was.
“baby,” you panted out, “i’m close.”
he took that as his sign to bring his thumb to your core, paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves. he could tell by the way that you clenched around him and moaned his name that you were coming undone. 
he snapped his eyes to your face, eyes screwed shut and bottom lip pulled between your teeth. god, you looked absolutely gorgeous like this. the sight of you in such deep pleasure threw him over the edge, giving a few last thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking himself through his orgasm as he spilled onto your stomach. he rode out his high before leaning down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. he took up, admiring the way you looked, all fucked out with his seed covering your stomach. there it was, that feeling in his stomach again, almost like lightning bugs were coming alive inside of his tummy.
he grabbed a washcloth and cleaned himself off before wiping you clean as well and then helping you to the bathroom. he pulled on a pair of boxers and went to get you a glass of something to drink and a snack. 
you were already back on the bed when he returned and he frowned.
“baby, i could have helped you back.”
you laughed, “it’s okay, my legs aren’t too sore.”
he raised an eyebrow teasingly, “oh, is that so? do i need to work harder next time?”
you laughed again, taking a hold of his arm and pulling him down to lay beside you. he kissed you lightly, reaching to the floor to hand you the t-shirt he had been wearing before for you to put on. you slipped it over your shoulders, loving that it smelled like him.
he smiled, you always looked so cute and small in his clothes.
he made sure you drank some water and ate a little before allowing you to bury your face in his chest and fall asleep. he sent a message to chan yet again that he wouldn’t be coming home that night. in fact, he’d barely slept at the mansion in the past week, spending most of his nights either here or at his ‘apartment’ with you. 
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one week.
one more week was supposed to be how much time left hyunjin had with you, but that all came crashing and burning as you stared blankly at his lit up phone screen. he stepped out of his bathroom with a towel around his waist and was met with your confused and hurt eyes.
“hyunjin.” you started, “what the fuck is this?”
you frowned, coming closer to see what you were talking about. there, on the screen of his phone, was a text message from chan.
“she’s not going to break within the next week. bring her to the mansion, i have a plan.”
his eyes widened and he snatched the phone from your hands, quickly dialing chans number and holding the phone to his ear as he used his other arm to try to secure you from running out. he quickly gave up, putting the phone on speaker and tossing it aside and using his full strength to pin you down.
“hello?” chans voice rang from the phone. no response.
“hyunjin, what’s going on?”
raising his voice above your cries, hyunjin spoke.
“chan,  get to the apartment now! she knows.”
it didn’t take long for chan and the rest of the boys to arrive, the mansion wasn’t that far away and it’s not like they were obeying any speeding laws.
it was surprisingly easy for hyunjin to keep you contained while they were on their way. after a few minutes, you stopped struggling against him. there was a look in your eyes that made him feel like throwing up and he almost wished you would keep fighting against him so he wouldn’t have to see it. 
you didn’t struggle as they lead you to a car and shoved you in the backseat, either. you knew you were no match for 9 guys. plus, what were they going to do, torture you? nothing could hurt you more than the aching in the pit of your stomach at that moment. hyunjin didn’t love you. 
they didn’t bother to cover your eyes on the car ride or to shield you from seeing their home. great. that meant it didn’t matter what you saw. they were probably going to kill you. you choked down a sob as the idea of hyunjin holding a gun to your head. 
they brought you into a room with a cement floor and cement walls and you scoffed lightly, they must do this often, you thought, to have a whole room for it. there was even a big, deep brown stain covering a part of the floor, showing that they’d brought people to and disposed of people in that very room before.
you didn’t fight as they brought your hands to a set of chained cuffs that were connected to the wall. there was about four feel of chain, giving you a small area to move around. you tugged lightly as they secured the cuffs around your wrists, there was no getting out of them. not that it mattered.
even if you did manage to escape that room somehow, it was no use. you didn’t know the layout of the building. sure, you knew that they’d brought you down a flight of stairs and you’d made a right turn somewhere or another, but you hadn’t been paying attention.
you only moved to acknowledge them when they all crowded into the small room, watching you like they expected something from you. you felt tears roll down your face as you observed the people you called your friends and the boy you were in love with mutter amongst themselves about what to say first.
“what am i doing here?”
chan was the one to respond and you caught on pretty quick that he was the leader of whatever they had.
“you tell me, y/n.”
you leaned your back against the hard wall and slid down until you were in a sitting position, pulling your knees to your chest.
“is this about my dad?” you began and chan raised his eyebrows as if to say i told you so to the others, “did we cut you short? i’m sorry, we had a rough month last month and-“
changbin cut you off, “cut us short?”
you nodded, “not clean enough? i swear we’ll make it back, pay you double what we missed-“
“what are you talking about?”
you frowned, “isn’t that what this is about? we- we launder for you, right?”
chan crouched down so he was eye level with you, “we don’t give a shit about money laundering, y/n. we’re concerned with the human trafficking and selling young girls and boys like they’re cattle.”
your eyes went wide, “we don’t-“
hyunjin scoffed, “y/n, why do you really think your dad puts out ads for young interns so often? where do they all go?”
you looked at him. his tone was so, so cold, but you swore you saw something akin to pain in his dark eyes.
“he has you screen all those girls for jobs, but do you ever see them at work?”
you shook your head.
“but you already knew that they weren’t getting jobs, didn’t you?” chan questioned.
you processed their words and the more you thought of it the more it made sense. why else would he have you interview so many people when you couldn’t think of anywhere they would be put to work? no, there had to be an explanation. your dad would never do that. your mom would never okay it.
your eyes locked with chans and something inside of you broke, he really thought you were involved with human trafficking. he thought you were capable of conning people your age into trusting you and then giving them to creepy old men to buy and use like toys. his eyes showed no sign of doubting himself on it.
you broke down, burying your face in your hands and curling up into yourself, trying to disappear. how could he think that of you? is this what they all thought? what hyunjin thought?
chan scoffed and stood as he was about to say something else, but jisung interrupted in a hesitant and soft tone.
“hyung, i really don’t think she knew.”
chan looked at him before looking back at your distressed state, desperately trying to catch your breath and stop the tears. you didn’t want to look so pathetic in front of them.
“we can talk more later. she’s no use right now.”
he turned to leave the room and everyone followed him out, save hyunjin. he lingered, waiting until everyone else was out before pulling the door shut and crouching down next to you.
he reached a hand to smooth down your hair but you recoiled from his touch. he seemed shocked at your reaction but regained composure so quickly you weren’t even sure if what you saw was surprise.
was he really still going to act like he cared? the tears staining your cheeks weren’t given a chance to dry as more fell over them.
despite your attempt to hide how badly you were breaking, your voice shook with every word you said.
“why, hyunjin?”
he stood and shrugged, his caring personality from moments before long gone. you guessed you had imagined it after all. 
“it’s just work.”
“you-“ your voice broke, “you never loved me! you let me think you loved me.”
he just stared at you. you couldn’t tell what was worse, when he pretended to care or moments like that where it was obvious he never did.
“you let me fall in love with you, hyunjin!” you were yelling by now, “i trusted you! i let you take my virginity and i-“ you choked down a sob, “i loved you so much.” you raised your eyes to meet his, “it meant nothing to you? you didn’t feel anything? all the times you said you loved me and all the times you made love to me, you felt nothing?”
if there was any flicker of guilt or pain he felt at your words, he did a hell of a job hiding it.
“nope.” he shrugged, speaking with a dry tone, “having something to put my dick in was just a perk of the job.”
you didn’t say anything else, you just watched him leave in silence, letting yourself sink completely to the floor as the door shut behind him.
you couldn’t see it, but in the hallway just outside the door, hyunjin pressed the back of his head against the wall as he brought his hands to his face, desperately trying to shake the aching feeling from his heart.
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to say you were surprised when they actually brought you breakfast the next morning would be an understatement. you expected cruel, harsh punishments until you confessed to things you didn’t even know. 
instead, you got a neat plate containing pancakes, eggs, and some bacon, all delivered by the youngest of the group, the only one that was a freshman with you.
you hesitantly accepted, chuckling softly at the plastic cutlery. 
“thanks, jeongin.”
he fidgeted nervously, “no problem, noona. hyunjin said you liked this kind of stuff for breakfast so-“
he stopped speaking mid sentence  when your eyes snapped up from the plate to him at the mention of your boyfriends name. 
was he even your boyfriend anymore? ex boyfriend?
“did he make these?” you gestured to the pancakes. jeongin nodded, and suddenly the food didn’t seem as appealing as it had when he first brought it. 
you managed to choke down most of the meal, but not even a whole bottle of maple syrup could cover up the bitter taste the food left in your mouth. you thought back to all the other times he’d made you breakfast like this. 
the morning after you let him take your virginity came to your mind. he’d woken you up with a gentle kiss and gave you breakfast in bed. he ate with you and told you how much he loved you, that he never wanted to lose you. the memory used to be one of your favorites, now it just made you want to throw up the pancakes you’d forced down your throat earlier.
jeongin stayed with you until you told him you were done eating and you were surprisingly sad to see him leave, shutting the door behind him when he left and leaving you alone in the cold room again.
jeongin brought you all of your meals. he brought you lunch and dinner that day. he sat with you the whole time you ate those, too. he always seemed like he wanted to say something to you but was hesitant to. he seemed to genuinely feel bad for doing this to you. 
jeongin was the only person you’d seen all day until a few hours after dinner, you couldn’t tell the time, the nine of them squished into your cell again, just like the day before. you were mentally preparing yourself for another emotional draining.
you flinched when felix took a step towards you, reaching his hands to yours. he assured you he didn’t want to hurt you, saying that jeongin mentioned he’d noticed you needed patching up. he examined your wrists, all bruised and cut up from struggling against the cuffs. it’s funny, you hadn’t even realized your injuries. hell, you hadn’t realized you were struggling enough to cause yourself injury. 
he pushed the cuffs away from the major cuts and bruises before taking an alcohol wipe to them. you hissed when it came in contact with your cuts, wincing at the way the cloth turned red so quickly.
he wrapped small bandages around both of your wrists, both to keep the old cuts from opening and to prevent new ones.
felix offered a small smile as he finished up and joined the rest of the boys on the other side of the room. 
the gentle moment was short lived.
“anything new to tell us since yesterday, y/n?”
your eyes fell on the source of the voice, none other than chan. you let out a sad laugh.
“it seems like you’re the ones enlightening me.”
he lurched forward, grabbing the chain of the cuffs and pulling you close to him so your faces were only inches apart. you winced at the harsh movement against your wrists.
“you think this is funny?”
you didn’t respond, so he tugged the chain again, earning another small cry from you. this was not the chan you knew and it terrified you.
“hyung-“ jeongin began, only to be cut off by a glare from chan.
“no.”
another small tug, what a fucking sadist.
“no, i swear, i don’t know anything. okay? i swear.”
he stared into your eyes for longer than you were comfortable with before releasing his grip on the cuffs, letting your hands drop.
without saying anything more, he left the room. the others went to follow him out, but were stopped by your small voice.
“jeongin?”
he turned, making his way to you. you lifted up your wrists, showing the bandages completely bled through. chan tugging on them must have irritated them. hyunjin lingered at the door and watched the way you let jeongin move your hand around to look at it so comfortably, so different from how you’d cowered away from him the day before.
it frustrated him, seeing you trusting jeongin like that. it should be him, right? you don’t even know jeongin that well, but you’d know him for months. he couldn’t blame you, though. why would you still trust him after everything he’d put you through?
he was snapped out of his thoughts as jeongin met him at the door and stated he needed to go to the medical wing to get bandages to replace the bloodied ones you had on. hyunjin contemplated staying with you while jeongin went to grab the supplies, but one quick look at you could tell you were begging him not to.
he was angry at chan. there was no reason to treat you like that. he didn’t care that it was you because he didn’t have any feelings for you, but no one deserved that treatment when it’s unsure and improbable that they’re guilty.
he didn’t have any feelings for you. it was just him getting used to not having to act like he did. he didn’t actually care for you. 
he didn’t, right?
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jeongin brought you breakfast again the next morning, immediately going to check your bandages. he smiled when he saw that they hadn’t been too soiled, meaning you didn’t bleed too much since last night. 
you stared at the food and it was like he could guess what you were thinking.
he nudged you with a small smile, “i made breakfast this morning.”
you chuckled before taking a bite of what he’d made.
“chan hyung says he believes you, by the way.”
you cocked your head in confusion.
“he thinks you’re innocent.”
you scoffed, “that’s good, because i am.”
“he’s really not that mean, you know.”
you huffed again, raising your wrists and showing the bandages and cuffs.
“he’s a sadistic prick who kills people for no reason.” you gestured to the blood stain on the floor.
“oh, you mean that? no, chan shot him because he ran a huge animal fighting ring.”
your eyes widened. okay, maybe the man deserved some respect.
jeongin had had just left to take your plate to the kitchen when hyunjin, changbin, and chan entered your little cell. 
you noticed hyunjin eyeing the bandages but chose not to vocalize it.
“we believe you.”
you remained seated on the cold floor.
“but we can’t just let you go, you’re a threat now. you know who we are and you know we’re after your father.”
“so, what? you’re going to keep me locked up in here forever?”
“i was thinking of giving you your own room and bed actually, but if you’d prefer this...”
he glanced around the room and the corners of your mouth turned up at chans attempt to joke with you. this was the chan you knew. not the one who toyed with your injuries the day before.
“look, y/n, i know he’s your father, but it’s clear you don’t want anything to do with what he’s really running. if you want, you’re welcome to stay here.”
“and if i don’t want to?”
he smiled again, “well, it’s not really a choice, i was just trying to be polite.”
this even got a smile back from you, which irked hyunjin even more. you could look chan in the eyes and smile for him when he’d practically tortured you less than 24 hours earlier but you couldn’t even meet his eyes?
“so?”
chans phone chirped and he slipped it out of his pocket.
“okay.”
he nodded to show he’d heard your response, “i have to go. seungmin says the front cameras detected motion.”
he handed the key to hyunjin before hurrying out the door. hyunjin made a move towards you, but stopped when he saw the glare on your face. he turned, handing the key to changbin. he clenched his jaw shut as changbin moved closer to you and you didn’t do much as tense up at his proximity. we’re you really that angry at him?
before changbin could unlock your cuffs, his phone went off with the same sound chans had.
“shit, more motion detectors went off.”
he passed the key to hyunjin and, seeing that he was your last option, you allowed him to get close enough to you to slip the key into the handcuffs, finally freeing you of them.
you rubbed your wrists, wincing at the contact. he looked at your wrists and your tear stained face.
there was nothing he wanted to do more in that moment than kiss it all better.
suddenly, two men you’d never seen before stormed into the room, guns raised. hyunjin seemed to recognize them, stepping in front of you.
“woah, woah, woah! chan cleared her, she’s good to go.”
was he protecting you? no, he was just standing up for you because chan had decided to keep you alive.
“that was then. he changed his mind.”
hyunjin adjusted the way he was standing to a more protective stance, covering your entire body with his own. maybe he did care.
“what? why?”
one of the men gestured to you with his gun before lowering it, “her little rescue squad showed up.”
hyunjin turned back to you as if to ask “is that true?”
you shook your head, you didn’t know anything about a rescue. how did your dad even know you were here?
“move, hwang. chans orders.”
you felt your stomach drop as he slowly moved out from in front of you. your eyes went wide and locked with his. he looked just as scared as you felt.
you turned back to the two men as they raised their guns again. you shut your eyes, praying that despite what they’d done to you, all nine of the boys got out of this alright. and despite how much you loved your parents, you hoped that they got taken down.
you took in a deep breath, waiting for the gunshot.
you felt your heart stop as two shots rang out.
you slowly opened your eyes, you didn’t feel a bullet wound. you were met with the two men laying on the ground with bullet holes in their heads. you turned to see hyunjin putting his gun back into his waistband before reaching out for your hand.
you pulled away, maybe he had just saved you from assassination, but you were not going anywhere with him. you had to find jeongin, he would keep you safe.
you weren’t able to act on your decision, though. he grabbed your arm, right above where the bandage stopped so he wouldn’t hurt you, and pulled you out of the room. you cringed as you stepped over the two bodies, careful not to step into the puddle of blood.
he lead you down a hallway that you vaguely remembered walking through when they first brought you here. you follow him up a staircase and he mumbled to you that he was taking you to his car so he could get you out of there. just before you were able to reach the garage, you was cut off by a few men you didn’t recognize. you looked at hyunjin, assuming they worked with him, but he shook his head. before you registered that they must work for your dad, two men had pulled hyunjin away from you and were holding him still. another one of the men pressed a button on the device in his ear.
“sir, we found her.”
you couldn’t run, they would kill hyunjin. you had no choice but to wait for who you assumed was your father to show up.
when he did, he immediately pulled you into a big hug. you pushed him away, disgusted. he didn’t seem to notice your disdain, grabbing your wrist and lifting it up with concern in his eyes.
“i told you they were no good, honey.”
you pulled yourself from his grip, ignoring the sting in your wrist for doing so.
“don’t fucking touch me.”
he reached out to you, but you swatted him away.
“my angel, what lies did they tell you to make you act this way?”
you swallowed hard before speaking, “they said you run a large human trafficking ring. that you use the people you say i’m interviewing for jobs and sell them to people like they’re just a toy to play with. people my age, dad.” your voice shrunk, “how long until you run out of people to pawn off and decide to sell me?”
he let out a small laugh, “sweetheart, i would never let you get in the hands of men like that! look, i even saved you from these pathetic excuses for men.”
hyunjin jerked around in the men’s arms and you locked eyes with him for a moment. you turned back to your father and forced a smile onto your lips.
“you’re right, daddy. you saved me. i should have listened to you when you told me to break up with him so long ago.”
he smiled back, “it’s okay cupcake, we all make mistakes.” you tried not to cringe as he pulled you into a tight hug.
“here,” he pulled a gun from his waistband, the one he swore he only carried to protect you and your mother, “you deserve the honors.”
you took the gun from his hands, forcing a smile to stay on your face as you familiarized yourself with the way it felt to hold. you’d shot a gun before, but never outside of a shooting range.
“you remember how, dear?” your father asked.
you nodded, lifting it up in both of your hands and pointing it at hyunjin. his eyes were frantic, like he knew you were planning something, but there was still an ounce of doubt, a small part of him that thought you would pull the trigger.
you clicked the safety off and fired a shot at the floor without hesitating. the noise rang through your ears, it was sure to be heard around the entire mansion, right? the boys would hear it and come running to help.
your dad lunged to take the gun from you but you raised it again, pointing it at him. everyone was shocked and hyunjin took that as an opportunity to free himself from his captors, moving so he was shoulder to shoulder with you and pulling out his own gun. you ignored the volt of electricity that shot through you at finally being close to him again.
your fathers men raised their own weapons and your dad made no attempt to have them lower their arms.
he let out a dry laugh, “i thought i raised you better than this.”
before you could spit back a reply, hyunjin did it for you.
“what, better than not operating a sex ring?”
“better than spending her time with some lowlife-“
shots rang through the building and you felt hyunjin tackle you, trapping you between his body and the floor and shielding you from the gunfire. after what felt like hours, the noise stopped and you heard minho speak.
“jesus fucking christ, is that all of them then?”
hyunjin slowly picking himself up off of you, checking to make sure the coast was clear before letting you back out into the open. the first thing you laid eyes on was the body of your father, fallen to the ground with a hold in his chest and his white button up stained red.
“no!” you screamed, and hyunjin pulled you into his chest, shielding you from looking at your fathers corpse any longer. you wept into his chest. you barely heard him yell for someone to move the body as you felt your heart snap even more, which you didn’t think was possible. 
you only looked back up when you heard chans voice, and he sounded mad.
“hyunjin, why the fuck is she still alive?”
you jumped at his words and hyunjin held you tighter.
“why would she need to be dead, hyung?” he yelled back.
he didn’t respond to hyunjin, instead directing his words at you.
“how the fuck did they know you were here?”
“i-i really don’t know chan, i’m sorry, he always talked about thinking you guys were a gang and i guess he assumed it was you who took me and-“
you cut yourself off with a sob, muttering ‘i’m sorry’ over and over again, hoping to god he would see that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen.
changbin approached him, wrapping and arm around his shoulder and suggesting they go for a walk. chan agreed, leaving with changbin.
jeongin kneeled down beside where you and hyunjin were still bundled together.
“he’ll calm down, noona, he knows you didn’t do anything, he’s just upset. felix got shot.”
you sat up straight, “what? is he okay?”
jeongin nodded, waving a hand dismissively, “he’s fine, it was just a graze, but hyung’s always been super protective over felix.”
you nodded, relaxing into hyunjins arms again. you had been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t realized that the rest of the boys had moved all of the bodies already. your chest stung when you remembered your father was among them.
 your father. he was dead, but what about your mom? was she okay?
you patted your pockets for your phone, but they’d taken it from you when they took you from hyunjins apartment.
“hey, woah, baby, what’s wrong?”
“can i use your phone?”
he agreed, pulling it from his pocket and handing it to you. you dialed your mothers phone number.
as the phone rang, you ran possible scenarios through your head. did she know what your father was really doing, or was she in the dark, just like you? 
the phone went to voicemail. you left a message saying it was you and that you were okay and to call back when she got it.
you couldn’t stop thinking about why it just kept ringing. why didn’t she answer?
you handed hyunjin back his phone and allowed him to help you stand. you weren’t injured, but you were shaking from the stress of what had just happened and your legs nearly buckled underneath you.
he caught you, picking you up in his arms. you didn’t have the effort to object like you normally would whenever he picked you up.
he told the boys he was going to take you to get cleaned up and they okayed it, saying they would handle clean up and for him to focus on making sure you were okay.
you felt bad when he laid you on his bed, it was so nice and neat and you were gross from being locked up for days. he insisted that it was fine as he dug through his wardrobe for the smallest pair of sweatpants he owned before lifting you back in his arms and carrying you to his bathroom.
you were in awe as he sat you on the edge of the tub, who needed a bathroom this fancy? he laughed at your amazement, tugging the hem of your shirt.
“let’s get these off and you can see how nice the tub is, yeah?”
you nodded, allowing him to slip your short over your shoulders. you removed the rest of your clothing yourself while he got the bath ready for you. 
“is this temperature okay, baby?”
you reached a hand into the water and nodded.
“perfect.”
he helped you into the water and you chuckled as he poured some bubble bath solution in.
“you take bubble baths?” you teased.
he scoffed, “are you crazy? of course i take bubble baths.”
he helped you scrub the dirt off of yourself and you couldn’t help but feel bad that he was helping. he was still fully clothed, the fabric getting drenched the more he interacted with you in the water.
when you commented on it, he smirked, “what, you saying you want my clothes off?”
you laughed and hit his arm, causing bubbles to stick to his shirt sleeve.
his eyes widened and his smile grew, “oh, it’s on!”
he leaned forward to tickle you but he missed, falling into the bath beside you.
you threw your head back and laughed as he pushed his hair back and wiped the bubbles from his face.
“ew! i fell into the gross y/n water!”
you went to hit him but he caught your arm, careful not to grab the hurt part of your wrist.
“i’m just kidding” he spoke softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your lips.
he helped you wash up a bit more before draining the tub and taking you to the shower to wash off. although you bathed, that meant you sat in that dirt and grime for the whole time.
he stepped in with you, it’s not like he had anything to lose with his clothing already drenched. you smiled as he poured some of his shampoo into his hands and worked it through your hair, it smelled just like him.
when you were finished, he gave you the pair of sweats he’d picked out earlier and one of his sweatshirts, the one you always asked him to wear so you could steal it. he made sure you were comfy and had something to drink before showering off himself, finally slipping out of the uncomfortably wet garments and stepping into some sweatpants and a sweatshirt of his own. 
he walked back to his bed smiled at the sight of you in it, fast asleep. he couldn’t blame you, you’d had a rough couple of days.
his attention was moved from you to his phone when it started buzzing on the table next to his bed. he frowned, not recognizing the number of the caller. regardless, he answered and put the phone to his ear.
“hello?”
“y/n? oh my god, who are you, where’s y/n?”
it must be your mother. he shook you awake, feeling guilty that he had to wake you when you obviously needed the rest.
“baby, it’s your mom.”
you took the phone from him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
“mom? are you okay?”
a sigh of relief fell from her lips, “i’m fine baby, the police just showed up at my door and told me all of the things your father was involved with. god, i’m so sorry baby, i had no clue. i thought it was just... anyway, they offered me witness protection if i testify against the company, i won’t be charged with anything. i just-“ she cut herself off with a sniffle.
“i know, mom, me too. “ you paused, “did they tell you about dad?”
“yes, sweetheart, they did. they got an anonymous call stating where his body was. looks like he was shot. it’s less than what he deserved.”
you let out a little gasp, “mom!”
“what, baby? it’s true, you and i both know it.”
you sighed, she wasn’t wrong, but he was still your father and her husband, “i guess so.”
“okay sweetheart, it’s late, you should get some sleep. call me if you need anything, okay? i love you.”
“okay. i love you too, mom. goodnight.”
you handed hyunjin his phone and he placed it back on the table before leaning over and placing a kiss to your lips. he crawled under the covers with you, pulling you close to his body.
“i know chan offered you your own room, but what would you say about staying in mine?”
2K notes · View notes
cinebration · 4 years
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Promise to Keep (Eames x Reader) [Request]
Hiya! Could you do Eames x reader drabble? The reader was the team's architect before Ariadne, and Eames has always had feelings for her but he's genuinely a dick so she never knew. She comes back briefly to teach Ariadne the ropes and Eames tries desperately to get her to stay. Something cute, but also annoying bc he really is a beautifully arrogant man. Love your work!!! — Requested by anon
Warnings: none
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Gif Source: dicapriho
Eames returned to Cobbs’s base of operations after a long night of shadowing Browning to find the place dark but for one well-lit corner. Voices drifted across the space. One belonged to Ariadne, the newest addition to the team.
The other stopped him cold in his tracks.
“You have to have your own secrets and tricks that are unique to you,” the voice said.
He couldn’t believe it. Approaching as quietly as possible, he rounded the corner to see Ariadne seated in a chair, notebook balanced on one knee…
And you, perched on the edge of the table, for a moment carefree, engaged in your craft with a smile on your face that made Eames’s heart skip painfully.
Then you saw him, and the smile slipped, your shoulders squaring and your feet touching the ground. “Eames.”
He couldn’t even breathe your name for fear it was a dream. How long had it been since you had left?
“You two know each other?” Ariadne asked.
“Sure,” you said. “We used to work together.”
Clearing his throat, Eames smiled, only the corners of it shaky. “That we did. Cobbs hired her on for nickels and dimes.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line. “Whereas Eames came begging for work to get out of debt.”
Eames feigned a wince. “I see your tongue is still scathing.”
“And yours no less silver.”
Ariadne glanced between you both, slowly closed her notebook. “Maybe I should leave.”
“I have nothing much left to teach you anyway,” you said. “Arthur can teach you the rest.”
“Thank you, again.”
“Of course.”
Waving timidly at Eames, Ariadne hurried from the building, leaving you and Eames alone. Eames perched himself on the edge of the table, facing you. Your arms folded across your chest.
“How long have you been teaching her?” he asked.
“Two weeks.”
Eames’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Cobb never told me.”
“Why would he? It wasn’t relevant.”
“You and I have different ideas of what constitutes relevant.”
You snorted, shook your head. As you looked away, Eames took in your profile. It hadn’t much changed in the years since you had left, except for maybe a tinge of sadness and a stiffness in the neck he didn’t understand.
Fidgeting in the silence, you said, “You know why Cobb brought me on, right?”
“Enlighten me.”
“he can’t trust himself.”
A mild twinge of alarm courses through him. “Is that your professional opinion?”
Trying not to snort, you continued, “He can’t teach Ariadne everything, because he’ll know the secrets. But he can’t use me because he knows most of mine.”
“If he had asked you to do this, would you have accepted?”
You hesitated. “Perhaps. But inception? I don’t know.”
“You don’t think it’s possible?”
“I don’t think it’s prudent.”
His eyebrows arched again. “You’re a far cry from the woman I knew.”
“I’ve been offering security consulting,” you answered in clipped tones.
“Ah.”
“Not all of us find it fulfilling to waste our time and luck in gambling dens.”
He grinned. “Oh, how I’ve missed this.”
“I haven’t,” you lied.
But he could see right through it, could see you fighting against an answering smirk on your lips.
“For all you know,” you continued, trying to conceal it, “I may have trained your client.”
“Did you?”
“I’m afraid that is privileged information.”
He chuckled in that low, sultry tone of his. “Alright, then. Have it your way. It’s more fun that way.”
“It’s always about fun with you, isn’t it?”
“What’s the point of life if you don’t find the humor in it?”
You nodded, but the tightness had returned to your mouth. Chest constricting, Eames kicked himself inwardly. He groped for something to say.
“Well,” you said in the silence, pushing yourself off the table, “I’d better be going.”
“So soon? We’ve hardly had a reunion.”
“Do we need one?”
The question cut him to the core. He covered it with a wry smile. “Why not? Surely Arthur would appreciate your droll company.”
“Droll? How flattering.”
It is to me, he thought. He watched you pack up an attaché case you had brought, secreting notebooks inside.
“What I’m hearing,” he said, desperate to slow your progress, “is you don’t build anymore.”
“I do.”
“But not for anything fun.”
“Fun again,” you mumbled. “No, I suppose not. But I enjoy the work.”
“I can’t imagine wasting my talent and energy on consulting. No imagination involved.”
You turned to him, one eyebrow arched. “Oh, really! You don’t think it’s exciting to look into the minds of some of the richest and influential people on the planet?”
His lips pulled into a genuine grin. There was the woman he knew, unable to resist the inner secrets of those whose dreams you hijacked.
You nearly matched the smile, then caught yourself. Clearing your throat, you nodded as though to yourself and clasped the case shut.
Anxiety spiked again in Eames’s chest. He stood suddenly, circling around you to block your path. “Cobb says Ariadne is the best Architect he’s seen.”
Hurt flickered across your face. “Yes, she is talented.”
“Yet he’ll have Arthur crush her creativity.”
“I doubt he’ll be capable of that. She is a creative force.”
“But only as an Architect.”
You frowned. “What are you getting at, Eames?”
How he loved the sound of his name on your lips. “Are you sure Cobb didn’t ask you back because he knows you? Or because your skill is lacking?”
You drew back, your jaw clenching. “Scathing as ever, you are.”
“Scathing? Never.”
You tried to step past him. He let you walk a few steps before stepping in front of you again, walking backward so as not to break your pace.
“All I’m saying is that you aren’t merely an Architect.”
“No, I’m a consultant.”
“Then consult.” He stopped, making you stop as well. “Arthur could use some help in the creativity department.”
Your tone bit. “Well, between you and Ariadne, he’ll have plenty of help in spades.”
“She’s too fresh, and he doesn’t much appreciate my advice—nor my methods.”
“Unless Cobb asks, I won’t offer my services.”
“Why not? There is such a lack of creativity on this team, I can’t be expected to shoulder it alone.”
You shook your head, chuckling dryly to yourself. For a moment, Eames held his breath, hoping he had succeeded in convincing you to stay.
Then you frowned, peering up at him with a gaze so intense he nearly fell to his knees. “I left, Eames. I’m not needed here.”
You pushed past him, concealing your own hurt. You didn’t see the pain in Eames’s face, too concerned about escaping the base of operations and returning to your life of safety.
“Stay.”
Your steps faltered. Turning back to him, you stared at his silhouette, the light behind him. He stepped forward slowly, shifting until the light fell across his face. He had spoken the word with such seriousness that you wondered if it was a trick, an actor’s trick. But he remained quiet, his eyes boring into yours.
No trick.
Your heart stuttering in your chest, you asked, “You really think you can incept this client?”
“Absolutely.”
You spoke slowly, choosing your words with care. “If you do incept him—successfully—then I will come back.”
Eames’s full lips parted, a faint hint of surprise and relief on his face. You smiled weakly at him, shaken by his naked emotion, and left him standing there in the semi-dark.
~~
Eames stood at the door to the vault, watched Robert Fischer reach into the safe as the dream crumbled around them both. Eames’s heart beat furiously.
Robert tilted up the pinwheel. Tears coursed down his cheeks.
The faintest of smiles twitched at Eames’s lips.
You had a promise to keep.
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