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hansensgirl · 4 years

Text

cattivo fino all'osso.

summary. | He’s bad to the bone, sick as a dog. But he knows that you like him a lot.

warnings. | Dubcon (dubious consent), dark themes, thievery, malicious intentions, smut, slight angst, unprotected sex, naivety, manipulation, gas lighting, obsessive behaviourism, Daddy kink, spoiling, major age gap (she’s twenty, he’s nearly touching forty), face fucking, corruption kink, virginity loss, overstimulation, grooming, step dad/step daughter relationship, cheating, infidelity, fingering, finger sucking, smoking, spanking, use of a hitachi wand, thigh riding, slight mean!dom!charles, soft dom!charles, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink, choking, slight violence + more. 18+, DARK FIC

word count. | 15,433 words.

pairings. | Dark!Step Dad!Charles Blackwood x Innocent!Step Daughter!Reader.

authors note. | thank you so fucking much for 4.8k!! i’ll forever be grateful to everyone who supports and follows me, i love you all so fucking much. i wish everyone good in life and i hope you’re all happy and doing well. if you ever wanna talk i’m always here, no matter what! (unless i’m asleep or a bit busy.) i’m so sorry for the long wait, please enjoy. <33 also in this fic, hitachi wands exist so yeah! thank you so much @mypoisonedvine and @bbbbearr for being amazing betas! love you guys!

Fine wool that comes from Italy tailors his suit, only the best of the best. He barely remembers how he met her, as certain memories might as well be forgotten. The ceremony is small, only her and the priest. He doesn’t mind — he rather prefers it, actually. He doesn’t know much about his wife — other than the fact that she has a daughter and is quite wealthy. His best bet is that the daughter is some bratty five year old. A clandestine jewel slips onto her old finger whereas an expensive gold ring adorns his. He looks down at it, watching his 24 karat reflection stare back at him and he just can’t help but smirk. “You may now kiss the bride.” The priest says cheerfully, and Charles has no choice but to hold back a devastating sigh. He leans in for a kiss hesitantly, ready to convince her to do all kinds of things. The wedding ends with a small cake, gifts sent from family members that weren’t invited and aching limbs.

“Honey, you’re too tired for us to have fun… We’ll save it all for tomorrow, okay?” He says, pressing a lame kiss to her forehead. She simply hums and drifts off into dreamland, leaving Charles behind. He waits for her breathing to slow down and then starts planning his next move. A glass of whiskey sits in his hands and he’s leaned back in an expensive leather chair, plush velvet pillows comforting him. Tones of beiges and browns compliment his caramel twisted hair perfectly, all falling under the same colour palette that would have an artist drooling in awe. He looks around the house — admiring the fact that portraits of her father and rare paintings are decorating the house. Not one photo though, no. They’re too ostentatious for photographs — photographs wouldn’t flatter their ego like portraits do.

He loathes it all, that big green monster known as jealousy peering over his shoulder. He wants the glory, he wants the richness, he wants it all… and in due time, it’ll come. It’s a mix of jealousy, envy, anger and frustration. He downs the rest of the amber liquid, exhaling as it burns his throat. He sets the glass down and stands up, shoving his hands in his pocket. His feet pad against the expensive floors, and he wanders about the house. He pulls drawers open, empties different vases and boxes and he even takes down those paintings and portraits. His eyes go wide as he marvels at the sight behind one of the portraits, a safe. It’s almost laughable, an heiress who’s worth millions of dollars has a measly, pathetic way of hiding her safe keepings and valuables. He carefully hangs the painting back up, remembering it very well for another time.

He wonders where else there could be hidden in the large castle-like mansion. Jewels, money, papers for properties… god — he nearly swoons at the thought of it all. He decides to retire to bed, knowing he’ll need enough rest for his shenanigans that’ll soon begin the next day. He slips into a silky set of pyjamas, before slipping under the cashmere blankets and turning on his side. He shuts his eyes but occasionally opens them up every now and then, far too excited and nervous to get some shut eye. Sleep sleep sleep… His mind chants, begging for some rest after tiresome spinning like a spindle with devious schemes. Soon, though, the liquid amber takes him over and he eventually shuts his eyes, not at all prepared for the true treasure he is going to find.

The day starts early for the newlyweds, butlers pulling open the lavish curtains that decked out the grand windows. Sunlight fills the room and blinds Charles at the same time. His wife is long gone, off to do some pre-honeymoon treatments and shopping trips. He shoos them away and gets up from the bed eagerly, his caramel laced locks are twisted in knots. He threads his fingers through his hair and waltzes into the lavish bathroom — admiring his reflection in the spotless, large mirror. The bathroom alone was more opulent than anything Charles had ever laid his eyes on. He felt like a newly crowned king, getting ready to sit atop his diamond throne. Charles chuckles at the absurd thought, before reaching for the toothbrush that was laid out for him. After numerous minutes of self-pampering and whistling, Charles was finally ready.

He walks with a bounce in each of his steps, a cheerful smile on his face and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. His breezy, light linen shirt perfectly frames him and he doesn’t care about anything menial anymore. The enticing smell of breakfast fills his nostrils and his stomach sounds with a loud grumble, demanding food. He sighs and thanks one of the butlers as they pull out a chair. He sits at the head of the lengthy oak table that had numerous engravings on the legs. He politely asks the butlers to serve him two waffles with syrup and blueberries on top. “Thank you, kind sir.” He smiles at the older man who simply keeps quiet and nods — already working his way onto Charles’s list of who to be wary of.

Charles moans at the sweet, delectable taste of his breakfast. The noise makes everyone in the room shy and they quickly leave him alone — ready to keep the house in shape. He scarfs it all down with ease and tops it off with a glass of earl grey tea with some honey drizzled in. It soothes his throat and calms him down. He leaves his dishes on the table and starts to wander again -- through the kitchen and other rooms in the house. The mansion is no different to something like a palace. “Hey, you! Come here.” He calls out to a maid who was silently dusting one of the many fireplaces. “Yes, Mr. Blackwood?” She sheepishly asks, bowing her head as she looks at the floor. “I want you to get everyone here, right now.” He ordered.

“E- Everyone, sir?” She squeaks out in shock. He grumbles because he absolutely hates repeating himself. “Mhm, and if you don’t get them in the next two minutes, you won’t see the inside of this house again.” He growled, sending her off. He watches as she leaves and picks up a box that had his name on it. Along with it were many more gifts that were sent from almost every high society blue blooded person there was in America. He opened it up and pulled out a pipe — a beautiful one to be exact. The wood has speckles of the finest gold in it and a gold band wrapped around the bowl of it. He lights it up and takes a drag from it, before pulling it away from his mouth and puffing the grey smoke away like it is a habit of his. “The staff, Mr. Blackwood.” One of the butlers says, making Charles turn around.

About two dozen people stand in front of him, all of them wearing simple cotton shirts as their uniform. “I want you all to go home and do whatever you miserable people do, only come back when I tell you to.” He orders, before taking another drag from the pipe. “But Sir-” One of them speaks up, their voice quiet. He quickly shuts them up with a death-like glare and he dismisses them. Hushed voices whisper on and on about him but he doesn’t care — no, why would he? He just became a member of one of America’s most richest families. He knows people are bound to talk, he’s known that all his life. Charles puts out his pipe and lets out one last puff of smoke. He opens up more gifts, scoffs at the fake well wishes and moves onto the next thing that he lays his eyes on.

The clicking of heels grabs his attention. “I said to go home!” He yells out, before looking back to his pile of gifts. “Well, I mean… This is my home.” You shyly say, clasping your sweaty hands together. Charles turns around abruptly and god, he’s breathless. Innocent beauty fills his eyes and you’re the only thing he can focus on. “You must be Charles, my new dad!” You cheer, walking up to him. He only nods his head, not able to find any words to even cultivate a simple phrase. “I’m your step daughter!” You say, before giving him your name. He repeats it and you can’t help but smile at the way it rolls off his tongue. “It’s nice, very beautiful.” He compliments, placing his hands on his hips.

“Like you.”

You can’t hold back the strong smile that creeps onto your face and neither can he. “Your mother never mentioned your age.” He adds and you look down at the floor. “I… It’s a thing… usually, when she tries to remarry, nobody wants to marry someone who has a twenty year old daughter already.” You explain, your voice a bit sad. “I’m sure it hurts, right?” He pokes and prods, testing to see how far you could handle him and his intrusive questions. “Never really thought about that, to be honest.” You confess bluntly. But you have, and boy does it hurt. “My mom told me all about you!” You exclaim after a few moments of awkward silence. “Really, huh?” He baits, raising his eyebrows. “Mhm, she’s so whipped! She always lights up whenever I bring you up, it’s so sweet.” You admit, pulling at the sleeves of your knitted cardigan.

He smirks, knowing that his own charming ways have successfully worked it’s magic. “Anywho, enjoy your gifts! I look forward to getting to know you.” You quickly bid, before scurrying off. Charles’s eyes follow you, until you’re out of his sight. His tongue pushes at his cheek and he can’t help but to chuckle to himself. He rewinds the interaction like it’s his favourite film and it replays in his mind. He can’t forget the way you fail to look him in the eyes, the way you were shy and oh, he could just tell you were an innocent little thing. A poor girl who has the luck of not being corrupted by the nasty world that turns saints into sinners. He then realizes that out of all the money, out of all the jewels and out of all the gifts there were — you were the most precious one of them all.

You don’t know what to do, truly. These… tingles aren’t rare for you. They were quite common, actually. You never knew what to do about them, hell, you don’t know what they are and you’re too scared to ask anyone. But they’ve never been this strong. You like Charles, and those few minutes of interaction only have you confused about how you like him. You rub your thighs together and it does nothing but worsens the feeling, making you let out a loud whine. You decide to ignore it, but you can’t help but to notice the pooling slickness in your panties. It’s a lot and for a second you’re worried, but then you get used to it. You already had your period for the month, so you just leave it as it is. You groan as you realize what you forgot to tell Charles.

You rush out from your bedroom and walk slowly to the foyer. Each step made you whimper, the slight friction to your pussy teasing you. “Charles?” You call out before you’re greeted by him sitting in a chair whilst he has his new pipe in his mouth. You frown at the smell of smoke and tobacco, hating how disgusting it was. But the sight of him was delicious. You bit your lips and admired his hands, his lips, his face, just everything about him. “Charles?” You called out quietly before looking down at your feet. “Yes, babydoll?” He looks at you, exhaling one last puff of smoke before putting the pipe out. “I- I forgot to tell you, my mom is going to be coming home tomorrow night — she gave me this note to give to you.” You tell him, handing him the folded up piece of paper.

Charles silently celebrates, hoping that your mother would have to push whatever spontaneous trip she went on forward. He silently nods at you, “Thank you, babydoll.” You let out a small whimper and rub your thighs together at the nickname. “What’s wrong, baby? Hm?” He asks, beckoning you towards him. “N- Nothing, Charles.” You lie, trying to disregard the very obvious tingles in your core. “Now, now… I hate it when people lie to me, okay? And don’t call me Charles.” He growls and it goes straight to your pussy. You whimper again, only this time it's louder. The overly debauched sound makes Charles’s cock stir to life, throbbing in his expensive boxers.

“I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what’s happening… It’s really weird and plus, I don’t know you that well.” You shamefully squeak out after apologizing to him. “Hmm…” Charles’s mind travels to the deepest, darkest parts ever. Such a soft, innocent, sweet, docile little doll I have all for myself… “What should I call you?” You ask, inching closer to him. He rakes his blue-grey eyes up and down your beautiful body, only now realizing how short your dress is and how strong your arousal was. The bitter scent of it fills the air and he lets out a hum of both satisfaction and delight. “...” He ponders in silence and gets distracted every now and then by you, before he comes up with the perfect name.

“Call me daddy, babydoll.” He smirks.

“Ok, Daddy…” You sheepishly smile. “Good girl, now come here.” He orders and pats his lap. You sat on his lap gently, figuring that this was normal — it felt normal, right? He grabs your thighs and slides his hands up and down your bare, caressing you softly. He inches closer and closer to your soft panties and soon pulls them down, making you gasp and nearly jump off his lap. He growls and grabs your hips harshly, pulling you closer to him. “Don’t be scared, baby… Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? I just wanna help my babydoll out.” He says softly, rubbing small circles on your skin. “Uhm, well…” You didn’t know how to explain the weird feeling to him. You had so many questions about it too, but you were scared that he would judge you.

“It’s my job to take care of you now, okay? And if you don’t tell Daddy what’s wrong, how can I help you?” He reasons. You nod your head and realize he makes a good point — but you’re still hesitant. Seconds that are almost silent soon pass by — the only sounds being your heaving chests and your thrumming hearts. His grip on you tightens and you whimper, the slight pain being too much for your sensitive body. “I have these uh… these tingles?” You say, sounding so unsure of yourself. Charles can’t help but coo at you, you really were an innocent little girl. “They started when I was a wee thing, or a uh, a teenager! Sorry…” You ramble adorably.

“Tell me more, dove.” He probes, daring himself to inch his hands to an intimate part of your body. “Oh, uh, okay!” You chew at your lip as you think about what to say. “Spit it out, dove… I hate waiting, and I’d hate to force it out of that pretty mouth of yours.” He growls as he quickly grows impatient with your shy ways. You gently grab one of his hands and settle it above your core, but it isn’t touching your mound. Charles so desperately wants to inch his hands into your panties but he knows that he has to be patient, he has to wait. “Sometimes they’re not too strong, and sometimes they’re so unbearable and- and I just don’t know what to do! Is it normal? Am- Am I weird?” You prattle.

“It’s not weird at all, baby. It’s completely normal…” He trails off, thinking about what you said. “I just don’t know what to do!” Charles looks at the times and notices that it was almost lunch, and he wasn’t going to miss out on eating expensive food. “Well, since it’s almost lunch time, we need to eat! Can you cook?” He asks, pulling you off his lap. He throws one of his arms around your shoulders and leads you to the kitchen. “Mhm…?” You sound so unsure — because you are. One minute ago he was touching in places your mother told you that no boy your age should be and was demanding you to tell him a secret of yours. But the next, he treats you like you’re nothing more than a friend.

He stands behind you and follows you around like a shadow as you do your dance around the grand kitchen. You feel like prey and he’s the predator, just waiting to pounce on you whenever he wants. You light the stove up and heat up some leftovers biscuits from yesterday's lunch. “I uh, I made these yesterday…” You say and the crackle of fire coming to life fills your ears. “I love biscuits, they may be basic but they’re still one of my favourites!” He joins in, standing right behind you. Gently, he settles both of his hands on to your waist in a calming manner, making you sigh in delight. His touch sends shivers to both your spine and core and you furrow your eyebrows together.

“What’s wrong, hm?” He poses his question with a playful squeeze to your waist and you giggle with pure innocence. “When you- Actually… nevermind.” You trail off, thinking he’ll be disgusted with you. He squeezes your waist again and rests his chin on your shoulder before leaning close to your ear. “Hmm, maybe I should tell your dearest mother that she raised her daughter to be disobedient…” He threatens out loud and you quickly shout out in protest. “No! Please don't, ‘m sorry!” You plead. Your mother is quite strict, and god forbid that you’d ever disobey her or anyone. “When you t- touched me, more tingles came…” You tell him, staring at the biscuits. “Aw… Well if you bear up with them just for a few more days then I could help you out!” He exclaims, turning down the fire for you.

“Really? You’d really help me out?” You ask enthusiastically, your eyes lighting up with disbelief. Charles raises his eyebrows and smirks as he nods his head in conformation. You squeal like a little child on their third birthday, wrapping your arms around the conniving man who is your step father and you push your head into the crook of his neck. He hugs you back and presses a kiss to your cheek, making you smile. You pull away and take the biscuits off the stove before ushering Charles to sit down. “Hmm… How about we eat outside?” He asks, opening the door to the lavish backyard. “Anything you want, Daddy.”

Your leg bounces as you become increasingly nervous. Ever since Charles came, your tingles have grown to worsen. You remind yourself constantly that it’s normal, and that he’ll help you out. You’ve begun to be weary, though. So here you sit, in Charles’s bedroom, waiting for him to finish his bath. You flop back into his soft bed and your dress rides up your thighs, scrunching up at your hips. You hear him whistle an Ella Fitzgerald tune, and you can’t help but to sway your head in rhythm. Charles continues to whistle as he steps out of the tub and drains it before wrapping his lower half with a cotton terry cloth towel. He swings the door open and the calming tune stops abruptly, and you frown like a brat.

Charles’s eyes went straight to your bare thighs that he would just adore to have wrapped around his head. He catches a glimpse of your soaking panties and clicks his tongue. The sound itself isn’t too loud but it’s enough to snap you out of your hazy daydreams of paradises and false promises. You sit up and don’t bother pulling down your skirt. “Uhm, hi?” You squeak out, waving at him. He disregards your greeting and stalks closer and closer to you, a dangerous scowl on his sculpted face that all but terrifies you. Drops of water cascade down his body and you eye him with no shame at all. You look back up at him and stifle a whimper and you feel your tingles come back.

“Didn’t I tell you to be patient?” He asks with a menacing growl that rumbles in his chest. You nod silently, too scared to even dare to utter a single word to him. “Words, doll, or else you won’t like what’ll happen next.” He threatens, leaning down to trap you under him. You gulp thickly and your bottom lip trembles in fear. “Yes, daddy…” You whisper quietly, bowing your head down in disgrace. He grabs your arms roughly and pulls you closer to his frowning face and his eyes are blown out with both anger and lust. “So then why can’t you wait? Hm? Are you that Goddamn desperate?” He queries, and you can’t hold back the sudden flinch that jerks your body. “N- No! I’m sorry, I really am!” You apologize to him softly.

Once again, the slightly bitter yet sweet scent of your arousal fills the air and dwindles there. “Fuck, so damn needy.” He curses under his breath -- the scandalous, foul word making you gasp. “I think you’ve been a bit of a bad girl, hm?” He ponders out loud but leaves no room for you to speak. He sits down on the bed and pulls you with him, laying you across his lap. “Daddy? Are you gonna hurt me? Are you gonna tell my mom?” You ask him innocently — your voice filled with worry and curiosity. You squirm in his lap and furrow your eyebrows when something touches your stomach. It’s long and as hard as a rock. “Not if you tell her, princess. Everything we do is our secret, okay? And you don’t reveal secrets, ever.” He reassures you before pulling up the skirt of your dress.

Cool air hits your scantily clad butt and you giggle at the feeling. Goosebumps crawl all over your skin and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t even realize that he dodges your first question as you are too distracted by him. His large, warm hand caresses your ass and your eyes flutter shut. It’s soothing in its own way and you realize that nobody’s ever touched you the way he does. He pulls his hand away and your bottom lip juts out in a bratty, needy pout. His hand returns to your ass, smacking it harshly and brutally. “Ow!” You cry out in pain, choking on a gut wrenching sob that would make the bullies at your school call you a cry baby.

“Shh, it’s okay angel…” He soothes, gently rubbing the irritated skin. Your chest tightens at the pain and Charles can’t help but pity you. “It’ll be over soon, baby, don’t worry.” He lulls to you, making you nod your head. “O- Okay, Daddy…” You whisper out, trusting him. He pulls his hand away and spanks your other cheeks with a sounding pop that reverberates throughout the room. The thing touching your stomach is even harder now, slightly throbbing under your soft skin. He does the same to the next cheek, delivering an even harder blow that makes your whimper louder than before. The tears have started ages ago and they stream down your face quicker than the way rivers flow. They soak into Charles’s left thigh and he lets out a “sh” to soothe you.

He continues to spank you until his hand hurts, until his skin is aching but not as much as you are in pain; and even then he didn’t want to stop. He feels your arousal leaking out of you like a waterfall, slickness coating your inner thighs and his towel. He can’t deny the fact that he’s so aroused that his cock hurts. It throbs and weeps, pre-cum leaking from the tip and the clear fluid stains his blue towel. “Shh, it’s okay now, baby. I’m all done now, Daddy’s finished.” He lifts you up with ease -- large muscles bulging -- and he settles you onto his lap. You wrap your legs around his well-built torso and the squelching sounds from your pussy makes you furrow your eyebrows. Your wet pussy rests right on top of his hard cock and the tingles are stronger than they’ve ever been.

You push your tear-soaked face into the crook of his neck, sobbing at the immense pain that radiated from your butt. He runs his hands over the bruised skin and whispers sweet nothings to you -- they aren’t nothing to you, though. You soon calm down and your pain dwindles down to nothing as you choose to ignore it. You look up at Charles and he looks at you, smirking at the love in your eyes. “Such a good girl, took your punishment so well.” He praises and you can’t help but to giggle at his words. Your face flushes with heat and you shy away from him. Involuntarily, your hips buck against Charles’s cock and you both let out lewd sounds. You moan softly and whimper, but Charles growls ferociously like a starved animal. Your pussy throbs at the sound and you whine loudly, clenching around nothing.

“What’s wrong baby? Hm? Tell Daddy what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.” He slurs slightly, moving your head from the crook of his neck. “The tingles…” You tell him, your voice small and weak. “Aw… Poor baby, you want Daddy to make your tingles go away?” He asks, pinching the bruised skin of your ass. You groan at the pain and your clit thrums under your panties. He fondles with the skirt of your dress and finds the zipper with his broad fingers. Slowly, he teasingly pulls it down and passes the soft fabric over your ass and down your beautiful legs. He throws the now pointless fabric onto the floor and admires the way your breasts bounce as they’re freed. He wants nothing more than to suck one of your hardened nipples into his mouth whilst he fucks you into oblivion.

But he has to wait, he needs to be patient.

He watches as goosebumps crawl all over your skin and he listens intently to the breathy moan you let out. Your nipples twist into harder peaks and they ache in such a way that you’re desperate to do anything so that you’re relieved of your tingles. Charles hooks his fingers into the band of your panties and he pulls them down, softly apologizing when you let out a whimper as the fabric passes over your bruised ass. You’re bare in front of him and you feel shy, slightly insecure under his gaze. You move the hands that were wrapped around him and you use them to cover up your naked body.

“No, no… Don’t do that baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He husks, roughly pushing your hands away from your body. “Daddy? I have a question…” You tell him, pure wonder and curiosity laced in your gentle voice. “Tell Daddy, go ahead baby.” He ushers, pressing a few kisses along your collarbone. “What that pointy, hard, big thingy there?” You ask innocently and Charles nearly chokes. What a fucking jackpot. “This, baby?” He asks, bringing your hand to wear his hard cock is. “Mhm! It’s very, very big… What’s it supposed to do?” Your words make Charles blush and you’ve truly flattered him. “That’s my cock, baby.” He tells you, and you can’t help but to repeat after him. “Your cock…” You whisper back and he nods.

“And it’s all yours baby, but you wanna know what isn’t yours?” He insinuates, and you nod desperately. One of his hands cups your bare, wet pussy and you moan at his touch. “This is mine, you’re mine.” He growls, unable to control the ferocious animal inside him. You nod in agreement and buck your hips against his hand, grinding yourself on him. “Shit… So slutty, hm? Just can’t help yourself, can you baby?” He degrades, groaning at the way your slick covers his hand. You gasp at the insult but also furrow your eyebrows with confusion at his second sentence. It then dawns on you as to what he means so you decide to nod in agreement and he chuckles at you.

He flips you over abruptly and you’re amazed at his strength -- even though you’ve ogled at his large muscles quite a bit beforehand. He crawls in between your legs and slots himself there. You’re forced to keep your legs open, even though you’re skeptical. It felt wrong… Maybe it was? “D- Daddy, is this wrong? I mean, it feels wrong…” You ask, looking down to your barren legs. “No baby, you’re doing great!” He answers incorrectly and you shake your head. “N- No… Not like that…” You whisper, scared to look at the burly man that knows you better than yourself.

“Baby… Do you think I’d let you do something bad? Hm? Never, this isn’t wrong… Everything I do is right!” He explains and then it dawns you. Everything he says is true and god, how dare you not believe him? He’s older, wiser and he knows better than you. “‘M sorry, Daddy!” You apologize, voice sincere and you’re ready to repent for all your sins. “It’s okay baby, just lay back and Daddy will make those tingles go away…” He whispers and you eagerly obey him. “Do you ever get tingles?” You ask him, parting your legs even wider than before. “Of course… I have tingles right now.” He tells you, his patience ebbing away at the edges. “Can I make them go away?” You follow up, your eyes brightening with interest and intrigue.

Charles lets out a coo, and he revels at how innocent and adorable you are. “Yeah, you wanna make my tingles go away?” He asks, his cock throbbing as millions of lewd, obscene thoughts run through his already twisted mind. “Yes please! Please Daddy?” You beg him desperately and he chuckles. “Such a needy little slut, aren’t you? You want my cock so bad…” He degrades and the words send a wave of neediness throughout you. A spark of confidence ignites in you and even though you don’t know much of what he said, you still choose to repeat them all after him. “Mhm, I’m such a needy slut for you, Daddy!” You squeal, and Charles can’t help but moan.

Suddenly, he wraps his large hand around your throat and squeezes the sides. You don’t know what succubus has possessed you but you let out a wanton, salacious moan anyways. He pulls you close to his face -- which was flushed red -- and he stares into your eyes. His beautiful, steel blue orbs are now blown out with lust but the feral look he gives you is just as good as the rest. “Such a dirty mouth, should I wash it out with soap? Or stuff it full with my cock?” He growls and smashes his lips against yours. The kiss is messy… It’s sloppy and you have no idea as to what you’re doing. You try to keep up with him and you easily let him dominate you.

His tongue explores your mouth and you try to do the same to him, but you just can’t. You whimper against his mouth and slick drenches your thighs. Years of pent up arousal only now coming back at ten-fold and the dam just breaks. He pulls away and puts you on your knees. You look up at him like a kicked puppy and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. Both of your chests heave and you’re face to face with his cock. He pulls the towel away and you gasp, earning a chuckle from Charles.”Daddy… It’s so big…” You tell him and he’s flattered. “Thank you, baby. I’m truly flattered, do you want to touch it?” He says, smiling down at you. “Yes please! But- but, how?” You ask him, a bit nervous but also excited.

He takes your hand and brings it up to his cock. His other hand plays with your fingers until they’re wrapped around him. It was hard and hot under your soft touch. It throbs and thrums, veins trailing the sides and his aching tip weeps with pearls of pre-cum. The slick stickiness of it rolls down his cock and soaks your hand. You can barely fit him in your hand, his cock being impossibly thick. He groans under your touch and he places his hands on the back of your head. Roughly, he guides your mouth towards his cock and shoves it past your spit covered lips. You gag and try to push against him -- a silent way of telling him “no, it’s too much.”

But he only just pushes your hands away and thrusts his cock deeper into your mouth. His manly flavour fills your mouth -- soaks in your tongue and you find yourself falling in love with it. Lewd gags and chokes reverberate around the room and they’re music to Charles’s ears. His cock is all the way down your throat and you’re struggling to breath, but that doesn’t matter. He moans loudly and then abruptly pulls his cock out from your mouth. You gasp for air and take in a deep breath before smiling up at him. His cock glistens with spit and you’re ready to take him again. Your jaw already hurts but it’s okay. “Shit, so good. You look so fucking gorgeous with my cock stuffing your mouth, can’t wait to see you covered with my cum.” He groans, holding your chin up.

You tilt your head to the side in confusion, not understanding one of the words. “You see, baby, when you make the tingles go away just like that then something will fill up your mouth -- and you’re going to have to swallow it, okay? Can you be a good girl and do that?” He tells you and you immediately nod your head. “Good.” He nods, before squeezing your jaw open with one of his strong hands. Your mouth pops open and is soon filled with his cock once again -- your gags spurring him on. Saliva and drool leaks from your mouth in waterfalls, and so does your tears. He bobs your head up and down his cock, moaning loudly and cursing under his breath. “Oh fuck, yes yes, your mouth feels so good!” He shouts loudly, the praise going straight to your aching pussy.

“C’mon baby, suck my cock like one of those cherry popsicles I bought you, use your tongue.” He orders and you obey. You hollow your cheeks out to the best of your ability -- not knowing what you’re doing. Your tongue weakly drags along underneath of his cock and it bumps up a few throbbing veins every now and then. You spread your legs and sway your hips back and forth against the bed and you don’t even realize what you’re doing -- but Charles does. The head of his cock bumps up against the back of your throat and you let out a moan, sending him closer and closer to his release. Spit travels everywhere and strings of it are leaking down to your chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum… And you’re going to swallow it all up, right? That’s all you’re good for, just a cocksleeve for me to use- fuck, just to make Daddy feel good.” He growls like an animal, thrusting his hips into your mouth.

He fucks your mouth at a brutal pace, his heavy, swollen balls slapping your spit-soaked chin. He grips your head tightly and then his hips still. His balls tighten up and a groan rumbles in his chest. “Oh fuck, yes yes yes!” He moans as he hits his climax. Warmth fills your mouth and his cock spurts out thick, white ropes of cum. His cum slips down your throat but also fills up your mouth. The copious amounts of his cream leaks out of your mouth and drips down to your chest. Charles thrusts his cock into your mouth a few more times, dragging out his orgasm until he’s almost on the brink of being overstimulated. He slowly pulls it out of your mouth and your jaw aches immensely.

He reaches up and softly massages your face, easing the pain away. “Thank you, Daddy…” You whisper out, your voice all hoarse yet still so soft. “You’re welcome, baby.” He smirks down at your tired face. “I like that a lot, Daddy… I like making your tingles go away!” You shyly admit -- flustered and even more aroused than ever. “That’s the point my dumb little baby, you’re supposed to like pleasing Daddy!” He tells you and you let out a gasp of realization at his words. “Now lay back, kitten, Daddy needs to make your tingles go away.” He pushes you back against the soft bed and spreads your legs wide open. Your slick has leaked everywhere -- all over your thighs, on the bed sheets and down to your butt too.

He rubs your glistening folds with his fingers and your wetness nearly drowns his digits. A searing, hot, burning feeling comes alive in your pussy and you let out a loud moan. Your body heats up at the pleasure and you’re hot to the touch. He teases you, fingers running through your folds, dancing around your clit and they also prod at your incredibly tight hole. “Daddy… That feels so good!” You moan out loudly, your doe eyes rolling back into your skull. “Yeah it does, just wait until I fuck you -- God it’s going to be amazing.” He groans, rubbing your clit in soft circles. More slick drools out of your hole as he plays with your sensitive pearl of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your spin and you’re unable to describe what the feeling is like, but you’re sure it’s something sent from heaven.

You can’t stop moaning as his fingers bring you closer and closer to your release. “D- Daddy? I feel like I uh, like I need to use the bathroom!” You sheepishly tell him, and he lets out a coo. “No you don’t, it’s going to make the tingles go away baby, you’re going to like this a lot.” He growls, rubbing your clit even harder and faster. A searing flame spears through your stomach and the knot that inside your tightens up. Your moans of pleasure grow loud, maybe a bit too loud for Charles’s taste. He shoves his other fingers into your mouth to quiet you, and you immediately suck them just as if they're his cock. The sight makes Charles even harder than before, as he hadn’t become flaccid yet. Your back arches off the bed and your eyes shut tightly as you cum for the first time ever.

“Oh Daddy!” You shriek behind his fingers, the knot inside you bursting. More stronger tingles pierce through your poor spent body and your clit is throbbing. Slightly creamy, almost clear cum leaks out of you and the feeling becomes too much for you. He continues to rub your button, and your body squirms immensely. You feel like you should tell him to stop but you know you shouldn’t. “There you go, my slutty little baby… You liked that a lot? I know you did.” He coos, making you heat up from his attention. Your cunt is coated with your cum and it drips everywhere, the sight makes Charles go feral. You clench around nothing, pulsing with pleasure. He soaks his fingers with your cum, absolutely drenching them until your pussy is a bit more cleaner than before.

He brings those same digits up to his mouth and sucks your delicious, sweet cum off. He moans around his fingers and stares at you dead in your doe eyes. You whimper and feel more wetness gush out of you, your tingles coming back once again. You spread your legs a bit wider and Charles already knows that you want him to help out. “What do you want, baby? Hm? You gotta tell me, or else I can’t help you out.” He husks salaciously after pulling his fingers out of his mouth with a sounding ‘pop’. “I have more tingles, Daddy… Can you make them go away?” You shy ask, slightly ashamed yet so goddamn barren. Your words are mumbled and garbled, as his fingers still occupy your mouth.

“Of course my little whore, anything for you.” He grins at you, his pearly whites making you giggle with butterflies in your stomach. His fingers are now spit soaked, adding onto the slick that pours out of you. This time, prods at your tight hole and your whimper. “D- Daddy, that feels funny… Kinda like that, that thing that happened… Why did stuff come out of me? Is it good?” You ask behind his digits that are soon pulled out. Wet fingers caress your beautiful, innocent face and he simply chuckles. “It felt good though, right? That’s supposed to happen, and that wet stuff is perfectly normal… It’s like sweet syrup, okay?” He shuts down your pondering mind and you nod your head.

He pushes two fingers into your spasming cunt, making you unexpectedly shriek. “Oh!” You moan deliciously as Charles quickly finds your sweet spot. Your entire body is filled with immense pleasure and Charles begins to pull his finger out. You squeeze him tightly and all he can think about is stretching you out with his thick cock. “Felt full…” You whisper to yourself, and he quickly pushes two digits into you. You let out whimpers of pain and pleasure from the stretch and he scissors you open slightly. You don’t know what to do with your empty, sweaty hands except for gripping the bed with them. Beneath your fingers is crumpled cloth and your arch your back off of it.

He pushes his fingers deeper, filling you up to the hilt. They're pressed up against your g-spot and he begins to thrust his fingers at a rapid pace. His palm rubs your little clit and you can’t control your loud moans. The obscene, wet sounds of your pussy makes a flush of blood flow to Charles’s cock. It swells with arousal and he can’t take it anymore. His other hand goes up to his cock and he begins to stroke himself at the same pace as his fingers. Your silky walls squeeze his fingers and sticky wetness coats them. Charles groans as you clamp down on his long digits. The hand on his cock speeds up and you watch him as he chases his release. It’s a sight that you just can’t tear your eyes away from. You feel that intense build up again — impending fireworks ready to burst in the sky. Broken pleas leave your mouth, litanies of please please please and Daddy Daddy Daddy.

He speeds up both his hands and you’re soon creaming around his fingers. You cum with a scream of euphoria, “Daddy!” You clench down on him tightly and your cum leaks everywhere. Your pussy throbs and he fucks you with his fingers until you’re overstimulated. You unconsciously grind against his hand and your clit is overwrought from the two powerful orgasms. Your heart pounds heavily and your chest heaves as you try to come down from your high. He takes his fingers out of your worn out cunt and shoves them in your mouth. “Suck them, yeah, just like my cock!” He growls, speeding up his hand on his cock. His foreskin peels back and forth, and beads of cum and pre-cum drip onto you. With a shout and growl, white strokes of hot, sticky cum lands on your skin. You moan at the lovely feeling and he just admires the sight of you covered in cum. Beautiful.

Days pass and you’re on the edge, but so is Charles. He can barely control himself from jerking off almost everyday ever since that afternoon after the bath. The sight of you sucking his cock and fingers, hearing you moan, watching you cum and oh the innocence you still have makes him harder than a rock. You’re no better, though. Ever since then you’ve been insatiable. You linger around Charles all the time, following him around like a shadow of his. The tingles haven’t ceased either, no. They’ve come back even more and you want your Daddy to make them go away. You want him to make you feel good and you want to return the favour so fucking badly. “Daddy… I have tingles!” You whine needily, dragging your feet behind you as if you’ve been raised with no manners. “I know baby, but you gotta shut the mouth of yours up and let me do my work!” He growls, the ever impending arrival of your mother being today.

You flinch at his tone but your panties slicken up at it too. You continue to waddle behind him, not even paying attention to how he was searching for all your treasured goods. “Please, Daddy? Please, please, please? I have so many tingles! Do you have any tingles? If you do, can I make you feel good? I think I got better at sucking my cherry popsicles, can I please suck your uh- your thing? I’ll be good at it, I swear-” You ramble on and on until Charles cuts you off with his booming voice. “I said that’s enough! Not another goddamn word!” He yells at you so harshly that you’re on the verge of crying on the spot. His cheeks are shaking with anger and frustration and his face is flushed with heat.

You open your mouth to apologize to him but the hand that is now wrapped around your neck stops you from doing so. “Are you too much of a dumb slut to understand? So desperate for attention, and you just wanna cum so bad… Tsk tsk, such a whore. You want Daddy’s cock so bad, you don’t care if he’s busy, right? Aw, don’t cry now… Daddy wants to see you cry when you’re choking on his big fat cock, I want to see you cry while you’re cumming over, and over, over…” He ferociously whispers in your ear, making you gulp in fear. He squeezes your throat even tighter and you gently wrap your hands around his wrist. You struggle to breath but you also can’t help but to enjoy the feeling of him choking you. You whimper at his words and rub your thighs, thinking about how he can make you feel good. “Nuh uh, none of that.” He wedges a thigh between your legs and rests your cunt on it.

He moves his thigh back and forth, clenching the muscles in it to make the friction increase and a breathy moan catches in your throat. You whimper and instinctively, you grind yourself against his well-built thigh. Pleasure blossoms from through your core and Charles stops moving his thigh — leaving you as a whining, needy mess. “No, Daddy’s not going to let you cum at all, and don’t even think about trying to convince me. You’re a bad, slutty little whore — And you need to be punished. Go to your room, and if I hear you crying then I’m going to bruise your ass.” He snarls, ending his long string of words with a sharp spankl to your butt — a warning. He lets go of your neck and you bolt past him, locking yourself in your quaint yet luxurious room until your mother comes home.

Your mother comes home — chaotic and stressed out. Being a large person in the highest of society was tough. She locks her lips against Charles and jealousy’s big, ugly, green head rears itself from behind you. You watch through the cracked door and your mother hurries to get ready for drinking with Mrs. Dubois and Mrs. Caroline -- two of her many rich friends. You feel hurt when she doesn’t search for you, a pang in your sweet heart but you ignore it. You want to step out of your room to go visit her, but you don’t want to upset Charles again. You remind yourself that he’s your step father, and your mind wanders to all sorts of doubts. Was this wrong? Sometimes it felt wrong… But Charles would never do anything wrong! You giggle away at your silly mind, oh how it would come up with the most absurd things.

You watch her leave and sigh heavily to yourself before plopping down on your bed. Swinging your legs back and forth, your tingles still there in your pussy. Your tits ache and you kick yourself for poking at Charles. A knock on the door startles you —two raps that are harsh. You hesitate from getting up to open the door, but after two more raps you decide that it’s for the best. “Baby? Open up, Daddy’s ready to play now.” he calls out from the other side, a devil luring you to commit sin after sin. You giggle with both glee and excitement, ready for playtime with him. You open the door with a smile on your face and then you gasp at the large stack of gifts that Charles was holding in his arms. “Hi, Cha- Daddy…” You say breathlessly, meeting your eyes with his silver-blue ones. They’re blown out — just like how they usually are whenever you see him.

They hold a certain darkness that you’ve never seen before, a sort of storminess that you’d love to revel in. “Hi, baby… Let me in now, I have the rest of the night planned out for us and I’d hate to have to punish you for bad manners.” He says with a sweet baritone, but his threat is bitter. You’re easily charmed, though and you don’t even pay attention to his warning. You let him in and shut the door behind yourself. “I’m so sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry I was annoying you- I just had tingles and I wanted you to help out, that’s all!” You apologize, wrapping your arms around him before he could say anything. You nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck and he urges you to sit on his lap — your favourite seat ever. “Mhm, I know you’re sorry baby, thank you for apologizing so nicely. As much as I like seeing you in pain, I just can’t do that to my sweet little girl.” He whispers in your ear, before kissing your cheeks.

“Do you forgive me, Daddy? Are you still mad at me?” You pull away and look him in the eyes, demanding honesty. “Of course I forgive you, baby… You’re such a good girl! Look at what I got you, I bought you some gifts.” He smiles at you sweetly and your insides flip with happiness. You squeal and immediately thank him, before trying to give him a kiss on the cheek just like how he did to you. He hands you a box and you immediately unwrap the floral wrapping paper. Your furrow your eyebrows in confusion but are grateful nevertheless. “D- Daddy, what’s this?” You ask him, handing him the box. Inside is something that resembles a microphone. It is a pastel pink and has a few buttons. “This is a magic wand, baby! Like the ones that fairies have, and this one can make you feel really good.” He explains, and hands you another small box. Inside are batteries — something that your mother told you not to mess with. You whimper and gasp before handing them to him. You wiggle yourself further into his lap and wait for him to set up your wand.

He hands it to you and it’s quite weighty, but you take it anyways. “Whenever you get tingles, Daddy can use this on your little button — okay? But we’ll save this for another time. You like Daddy’s thighs, don’t you?” He asks, taking the wand away from you. You sheepishly nod and wiggle in his lap again. He grips your waist tightly and squeezes, before moving you so that you’d straddle his left thigh. He clenches the muscles in his thigh and the already stiff muscle becomes even harder. Charles’s large cock bulges through his pants, all hard and aching already. “You like that, baby?” He asks again, reaching his hands up your dress and tearing away your cotton panties. “Mhm!” You nod harshly, your cunt sopping and drooling. He drags you back and forth slowly and the arms that are wrapped around him squeeze even tighter.

Your clit grinds against the rough material of his pants and he moves you back and forth. He bounces the same thigh slightly and a series of moans rumble through you. “O- Oh my… Daddy, that feels s- so, hng, good.” You whisper, moans cutting through almost every word you utter. “Look at you, a dripping mess all over my thigh. Can’t help it, hm? Just feels so good, only Daddy can make you so slutty.” He groans in your ear, before sucking a few hickies across the bare skin on your neck. Your eyes roll back into your skull at the euphoric feeling. “Look at you, all dumb and stupid, just drooling at the thought of being my slut.” He chides, smearing the saliva that leaks from your mouth. “Daddy, I have lots of tingles now!” You squeal as he presses you further down on his thigh. A burning feeling spreads across your pussy and abdomen and your drooling hole clenches around nothing.

“Yeah, baby, I bet it feels so good, right?” He purrs, moving one of his strong hands to your ass. He gives you a few spanks, pushing you closer to your release. “I think that thing is happening again… Those fireworks!” You tell you, gasping and moaning at the pain and pleasure. “Fuck, got me so hard right now.” He groans, roughly grabbing one of your hands to palm his cock. “Feel that, baby? That’s all for you and your slutty pussy. All yours- God, fuck” He swears after you accidentally rub your hand over his cock and squeeze it. You let out an extremely loud moan, not even caring if anyone was home. The staff was gone and so was your mother, so who are you to care? “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” You cry out as your beautiful face frowns in pleasure.

You can feel that high building up and Charles grinds his clothed cock into your hand. “Go on, cum, cum all over my thigh like the needy little baby you are. God, everyone in this damn town would be so ashamed to know you’re such a whore for your Daddy’s cock. And I bet you don’t care, do you? You just can’t get enough of me, cumming all the time, making a mess of that pussy of yours…” He growls at you, his words making you gasp and moan. He continues to rub your pussy against his thigh even though you’re pushing at him slightly. “Daddy, the tingles are too much,” you whine desperately, trying to writhe and push away from him but only worsening the tingles. “Shh…” Charles sibilates, holding you still even though your fussing didn’t stop.

Tremors claim your body and Charles drags your pussy against his thigh even harder. You fall against his chest and the fight in you leaves your body. A lewd, guttural moan leaves your mouth and you’re cumming all over his thigh. “Oh Daddy!” You squeal as pleasure overtakes your body. Your cunt throbs and you’ve soaked his pants completely. Charles gets harder at the sight of you cumming all over him. Your cunt gushes all over his pants and you’re moaning loudly. “Good girl, such a good girl for Daddy!” He praises, smiling at your writing form. You gasp as he continues to rub your pussy on his thigh, letting you ride out your orgasm and slightly overstimulating you. You babble like a baby and your grip on him is flimsy at this point. Your chest heaves and he lifts you off his thigh.

Suddenly, you’re kneeling on the ground and he’s freeing his cock from the confinements of his pants. It’s leaking, crying fat beads of clear pre-cum and suddenly you remember his husky, mainly taste on your tongue. “It’s your c- c…” You’re not sure whether or not you should say it, so you decide to keep your mouth shut. He laughs at you and his cock is a raging red, almost purple. He brings you a little closer to his cock and your face to face with it. Your mouth salivates at the sight of it and you want nothing more than to suck him off. He slaps his heavy cock against your cheek, once, twice, three times. You moan at the delicious pain and it sends a rush of blood to his cock again. He begins to stroke himself in front of you, knowing that you crave him in your mouth so desperately. “Look at me, baby. Watch Daddy jerk himself off, yeah, just like that. You want my cock so bad, don’t you? In due time baby, don’t worry.” He tells you in between moans.

You feel more tingles building up in your pussy and more wetness leaking out of you. You impulsively open your mouth up, ready to welcome his cock. But instead he shoves two fingers into your mouth and you take them delightfully. His digits are soon covered in spit and his pre-cum has been smeared all over his cock. He begins to pump his hand up and down -- base to tip. His thumb occasionally swipes over his leaking tip and he moans throatily. “Can I help you out, Daddy? Please?” You beg with puppy eyes, and he just can’t resist. Though your words are garbled, he still knows what you need. He keeps his two fingers in your mouth and takes his hand off of his cock. It bounces up and slaps against his stomach, weighty and thick. He grabs one of your hands and guides it until it’s wrapped around his cock.

It’s heavy in your hands but God, are you grateful to have it all for yourself. You try to mimic his movements, moving your hand up and down even though you don’t have a good grip on him. He moans loudly as your thumb accidentally swipes over his red tip. He further pushes his fingers into your mouth until you’re choking on his digits. “Oh, god, yes…” He groans, and your mind rewinds to the times where the priest from church always told you that anything involving private parts is wrong. The memory makes you stutter and your morals are now conflicted. He takes notice to the slowly disappearing eagerness you had. “Oh baby, do you think Daddy’ll ever let you do something bad? Never, everything they tell you... it’s all lies, okay? Daddy knows what’s best, and you should listen to Daddy. Now stroke me just like how I was, okay?” He tells you, pushing his fingers against your gag reflex.

You once again mirror his movements, enjoying the fact that you’re the reason as to why his tingles would go away. You quicken up your movements on his cock, and he asks, no, he orders you to tighten your hand and you’re trying your hardest. “Now twist your hand a bit, baby, and move a bit quicker.” He gruffs, and you try to do as you’re told. Your hand moves in corkscrew-like motions and Charles begins to grind into your palm. His cock throbs and twitches under your touch and his balls are slowly beginning to tighten up. His fingers swirl in your mouth and your other hand comes up to cradle his swollen, heavy balls. He lets out a guttural moan and more pre-cum drips from his tip and stains your soft skin. “Oh god…” He groans and he hits his release. Hot spurts of thick cum drips from his tip and copious amounts of it leaks everywhere. You continue to stroke him until he tells you to stop, and even then you don’t want to.

He takes his hand out of your mouth and guides you to his cock. “Clean Daddy up, yeah… That’s it, lick up all my cum... Tastes so good right? Swallow it all like a good girl.” He commands and you greedily lap up all his cum. You’re addicted to the taste, even though it’s slightly peculiar. Salty yet sweet, manly and husky. You try your best to clean him up until he’s satisfied, You smile up at him shyly, staying in your place on your knees as you wait for your next order. You watch as his cock slowly begins to soften and as he shoves it into his boxers. Your gaze lands on the gigantic wet spot on his grey linen pants and your eyes bulge out in shock. He looks down to his thigh and back to you before chuckling in such a swooning way. “Look at the mess you made, baby!” He cooes, reminding you of the way you were grinding on his thigh like it was a normal thing to do. You’re flustered and you shy away from him, embarrassed with all the attention. “Aw, don’t be coy now; you were just riding my thigh like a bitch in heat, and now you wanna be innocent?”

The blunt scent of smoke fills the room with ease. Charles sighs in delight, knowing that his plan was taking place at the very moment. You sit between his feet, re-reading the letter that Charles has given you. “She’s gone already? Didn’t she just come back, Daddy? We haven’t even spent time as a family yet!” You cry out in both distress and sadness as Charles continues to take a drag from his pipe. He smoothes a soothing hand over your hair and tears begin to fall from your eyes. She’s gone for two darn months? There’s no way you’ll be able to handle that! You stifle your sobs to your best ability and oh how Charles’s cock throbs at both the sound and the sight of you crying. “Don’t you feel sad, Daddy?” You ask through your tears, hiccuping and sobbing.

“No, baby. Do you wanna know why? It’s because I support whatever your mother wants to do… And you should too, baby. Now stop being a crybaby and let me take your mind off it, Daddy has some things to tell you.” He shuts you up and puts out his pipe before pulling you onto his lap. You gladly let him do so and he wipes your tears away for you. He lets out a breathy chuckle and smiles, before kissing the tip of your nose. “If I see you crying then I’ll put you over my knee, okay? None of that right now.” He orders, and you sheepishly nod. You hate being over his knee just as much as he loves it. You quickly blink away any forthcoming tears before your bottom is bruised up. “Have you ever been to Italy? It’s quite the beauty, to be frank.” He begins and your ears perk up.

“I have, and it’s quite lovely. There’s nothing as beautiful as the sunset in Florence from the top of the dorm room… It’s the most exquisite sight, I’ll take you some day.” He reminisces, staring at nothing as he recalls the lovely trip. “Oh, to bask in that lovely sunlight again would be delightful, and to drive down the streets as it rains…” He sighs blissfully and you let your imagination run wild. Images of you in Charles’s car brings you joy and you can’t help but to hum in agreement. “Mother always tells me about Italy, mostly about the stores and beautiful men but I’ve always liked the scenery.” You tell him, and he nods as he listens to you speak. You continue, “I’ve seen paintings, and photographs! I have a few cousins that live there too, I love it whenever they phone us and tell me about their home.” You giggle to yourself as you remember all those times.

Charles grabs your chin gently and makes you face him. You look into his eyes and then to his lips. They’re plump and pink and all you’d like to do is to press your own against them. You’ve always liked his kisses, no matter what. The ones on your hands, legs, shoulders but god do you love the ones he leaves on the inside of your thighs. You shiver at the memory of him kneeling down and spreading your legs wide open. As if he could read your mind, his other hand begins to run up and down your thigh. You’re both insatiable -- addictive and you can’t get enough of each other. “Are you close with your cousins, baby?” He asks out of the blue. You clear your throat before responding. “Ahem, uh, we were before Mother married for the third time, I think they should let her be!” He’s told. Your cute lips have formed and slight pout and all he wants to do is bite and suck on them until you’d tell him to stop.

“So you don’t talk to anyone else in your family?” He questions you, raising his eyebrows high up to the sky. “No…” You sigh and start playing with Charles’s fingers. “Uh huh…” He nods, letting your words sink in. You trace little invisible shapes on his hand, slightly ticking the brooding man. “Can you take me to Italy, Daddy? I would truly love to visit!” You ask suddenly, pouting at him. “Sure, baby, but you have to let me do a few things to you first, okay?” He negotiates, and you easily agree to whatever conditions he has for you. “Of course, I’ll do anything for you, Daddy!” You exclaim, accidentally putting an emphasis on ‘anything’. He smirks and cracks his knuckles. The pops make you cringe and squeem in his lap, earning yourself a slap to your thigh.

“Go get the gift I have for you, and be quick, you know I don’t like waiting for too long.” He warns you warily. You quickly dash up to your room, bare feet pattering against the hardwood floors like rain falling on an umbrella. You ravage through your closet and pull out the box before running back downstairs. Your dress gets caught on a piece of stray wood that had been broken from when the butlers were bringing in the new furniture and you huff in annoyance. You impatient yank the cloth from the wood and wince as it rips. You turn on your heels and continue to rush back to the smoke room where Charles was. You pant heavily and struggle to form any words, making Charles chuckle. “What happened to your dress, baby?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows. You look down and suck in a sharp breath, not realizing that the rip was that bad.

“It had gotten caught on some broken wood…” You admit under your breath. “Hm?” He asks again, not hearing what you said. “It had gotten caught on some broken wood, Daddy… I’m sorry!” You repeat a bit louder, adding an apology at the end. Truth be told, you’re slightly terrified of Charles as anyone would be. “Aw, you’re so clumsy and stupid aren’t you? Just destroying your clothes as a dumb baby would.” He tuts, taunting you and your accident. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy is going to take care of you and that stupid cunt of yours.” He growls, making you gulp. You don’t even think about the overwhelming tingles that have taken your core -- no, instead you think about what he could possibly do next. He pulls the left strap of your dress down, revealing your bare breast. He is closer to you than before and you can’t even remember when he had gotten up from his seat.

He smiles down and you and you look up at him with your lips slightly parted. He does the same to the other strap and exposes your chest for himself and himself only. Cool air hits your tits and your peaks turn rock hard. They twist up painfully and ache for him and his delightful touch. You lose your breath for a few seconds and he pinches your nipples and plays with them -- and you accidentally end up dropping the box. He tuts at you again and you’re quick to pick it up before he takes it away from you. “Such a stupid baby, you need Daddy to help you out because you can’t do anything right, hm? Other than sucking my cock, of course.” He degrades, making you whimper. He guides you to the throne-like chair and makes you sit down. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and tilt your head at him as he gets down on his knees.

He places the box next to him and spreads your bare legs far apart from each other. He hikes up your dress to your waist and lets out a coo as he spots the evident wetness that has soaked through your panties. The light beige cloth is tarnished and he’s the reason why. “Daddy… What are you doing?” You nervously ask him as you crane your head down to look at him. He looks up at you with an almost devilish smirk and hooks his fingers into your panties before pulling them down your legs. He admires the healed cuts and bruises that probably came from your childhood. He throws your panties behind him and places your legs onto his strong shoulders. You’re not sure what he’s about to do and millions of questions run through your mind.

“Daddy, wh- what are you doing?” You question him, watching as his tongue runs over his plump pink lips. His nips at your thighs -- biting, kissing, and bruising the skin. Arousal leaks from you and smears onto your pussy. He inches his face closer and closer to your pussy before finally answering your question. “I’m going to taste your cute little cunt, baby.” He bluntly tells you before licking a fat stripe up your cunt. “Hu- Oh!” You let out a lewd moan and tangle your fingers in his fluffy caramel hair. The feeling is overwhelming as Charles laps up your wetness even though each lick makes more leak from your drooling hole. He drinks up everything you have to offer like an animal, wanting more and more from you. His tongue travels through your folds, just barely brushing over your clit and you’re writhing above him.

The lewd sounds of his mouth on your pussy echo throughout the rooms but are soon drowned out by your moans. Suddenly, he latches his lips onto your swollen clit and sucks hard. Stars fill your vision at the unfamiliar feeling and you accidentally buck your hips up. He growls in your pussy and slams your hips back down before laying a heavy hand on your lower abdomen. His tongue swirls around your bud and flicks over your clit. You feel dizzy and his tongue and lips continue to send you into oblivion. You slightly tug on his hair and another growl rumbles from Charles, pushing you closer to your release. The fireworks aren’t sparking as much as you’d like them to and you feel empty. Under Charles’s strong arm, you wiggle your hips as you spew alphabetical nonsense.

“Daddy…” You moan out, your voice soft and sweet. He knows what you want but god -- seeing you all needy and desperate makes him even harder than a rock. He relents his sucking on your clit and you whine until he runs his middle finger through your wet cunt. He lightly flicks your clit with his tongue as he suddenly pushes his long digit into your cunt. He quickly finds your g-spot and the build up inside you hits its limit. You cum with a guttural shriek and he continues to abuse your poor cunt with his mouth and finger. Your pussy clenches around his finger and your clit throbs under his tongue as cum gushes out of you. He drinks it all up and stares right at you as he does so. Your sweet taste fills his mouth and he craves you even more -- but his cock is far too hard for him to do anything else.

He pulls his head away from your pussy and looks up at you again. He watches you as he pulls his cum-coated finger out of you and he shoves said finger past your lips. Your taste fills your mouth -- sweet yet a little bitter. It’s a stark contrast from his taste as it was more husky and manly. His finger leaves your mouth with a distinct ‘pop!’ and you look up at him with a face that just begs to him. He latches his lips onto yours and kisses you ferociously. Charles lifts you up from the chair and your sensitive pussy presses against him by accident. You whimper at the unexpected feeling and cry out against his lips. “Daddy! D- Daddy…” You try to keep up with his lips but you can’t, so you decide to give up. His tongue searches your mouth and he occasionally sucks on yours. He’s so experienced, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows how to make you easily submit to him, he knows when to nip at your swollen lips and he knows exactly what you need.

He carries you to your bedroom, each step of his adding friction to your pussy. You’re sopping wet and you’re so damn needy for him. You whine against his lips and he pulls away as he climbs the steps. Strong, veiny hands squeeze your ass roughly and his marriage ring digs into your skin. You look ruined -- dress torn and your tits exposed, lips plump and hair disheveled and your cunt is rubbing against Charles. He enters your room and throws you on the bed. You look up at him and he rips your dress off of your body roughly. He pulls the pink wand out from the pocket of his pants and you realize you had forgotten about it. He sets it on the bed and quickly undresses himself, desperate to relieve his ache. You watch him intently, spreading your legs out of instinct and you can feel more wetness dripping out of you.

You can’t keep your eyes off of him, the sight so enticing. Bulging muscles and a beautifully sculpted face that you could look at forever. He crawls on top of you and puts his hands around your head. He’s left in only his boxers and you can see how hard he is. He’s huge, and sometimes when you think about his cock you can barely get the size right. “Daddy… What are we going to do now?” You ask sweetly, looking up at him. “Daddy’s going to take your innocence away, baby. I’m going to ruin you, turn you into my little minx.” He tells you bluntly, cutting right to the chase. You unconsciously moan at his words and your pussy clenches at the thought of him ruining you. What would that entail? He growls lowly in your ear before attaching his lips to the sweet spot of your neck.

He sucks a hickey onto your skin -- licking, biting, sucking like it’s a hobby of his. You moan at the sensation and he chuckles against your neck. “So sensitive… God, what am I going to do with you, baby?” He sighs, asking himself a question only he knows the answer to. “You can do whatever you want, Daddy! Anything you do is right!” You giggle, answering his question. He groans and a rush of blood heads straight to his cock. He pulls his boxers down, sliding them over his built thighs and past his legs. You watch carefully as his cock bounces up and slaps his lower abdomen -- a sight you’ll never get used to but always love. He grabs the base and spreads your legs even wider. He slaps the tip of his cock on your clit, earning a squeal from you.

“Do you like that, baby doll?” He questions, slapping your clit again. You mewl and nod your head feverishly. You stare up at him and he looks down at you with a Cheshire smirk. He runs his cockhead through your wet folds, smearing the few drops of pre-cum that leaked from his slit. The large, bulbous tip teases your pussy. It bumps up against your clit and as soon as it prods at your tight hole, you feel a bit of panic. Your mother had told you all sorts of horrid stories about those types of things, but you never thought much of it. “Daddy, what are you doing?” You ask him, scrambling to hold one of his hands for comfort. You lace your fingers with his and he coos at how innocent and docile you are. “I’m going to turn you into my own little angel, okay baby? What’s wrong, hm?” He questions, squeezing your hand tightly.

“I- I’m scared… Do I have to do it, Daddy? I mean I really wanna do it! I’m just unsure, I guess…” You ramble adorably, looking deep in his eyes. His features don’t soften, no, because he knows that deep down inside, you'll do anything for him. “Baby, you’ll make me the happiest man alive if you do this! Don’t you want to make me happy like you always do? C’mon, baby doll, don’t make Daddy upset… You’ve been such a good girl for me! And I know how much you absolutely love being my good girl.” He frowns slightly, beginning to pull away from you. You quickly pull him back to you and Charles smiles at you. “I’d like to still be your good girl, Daddy! I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I swear!” You beg and apologize, tears glossing over your eyes. He shushes you and your chest heaves in a panicking manner.

“Hold onto my shoulders, baby, but don’t hurt me. Okay?” He orders, placing your hands there for you. You nod your head and easily obey his orders without a single peep of objection. He wraps his left hand around your neck, and his right hand goes back to grip his cock. Charles drags the fat tip up and down your wet pussy against, bumping your sensitive clit with it and covering it with your juices. He slowly drags his tip down to your hole and begins to push in, enticing a slightly muffled shriek from you. He shuts you up by pressing his lips on yours and squeezing your throat slightly. His thick cock pushes into you, stretching you out painfully. The burn of the stretch makes you squeeze his shoulders tightly and you whimper loudly into his lips. Charles moans loudly as he sheathes his cock completely into your cunt.

The stretch turns into a dull ache and it’s soon pleasurable. Your wet velvet walls hug his cock tightly, perfectly, as if you’re made for him and him only. “God, so damn tight. Just squeezing my cock like a little slut.” He groans, pulling away from your lips. Both of your faces are frowning in pleasure. He digs his fingers into your hip as he fully bottoms out. It felt like it would never end, as if he would keep pushing into you. Charles swears under his breath and savours the feeling of your pulsing walls squeezing his hard cock. You writhe under him, growing desperate. “Daddy… Please, please, please…” You beg, eyes rolling into your skull out of desperation. “So needy for my cock, just begging for it already…” He tuts and you feel your cunt flutter at his words. He pulls his cock all the way out from your wet pussy and it glistens with your wetness. You feel too empty, far too empty for both yours and Charles’s liking.

He suddenly pushes back into you and begins to pump in and out of your cunt without any warning. You moan loudly, litanies of “Daddy” continuously leaving your mouth like a mantra. His cock practically splits you in half and he fucks into you with a carefree pace. The sounds of skin on skin are drowned out by your moans and groans. His cock hammers against your poor g-spot, pummeling in and out of you with no relent. “Oh Dio, che puttana per il mio cazzo, eh? La mia puttana, solo la mia. Ti rovinerà per ogni altro uomo — anche se sei mia e solo mia.” He groans loudly, the foreign language igniting those fireworks in your core. “Oh Daddy! Oh- oh my…” You cry out, your body jerking with each thrust of his. Charles deepens his thrusts and his cock pummels against your cervix, making you cry out. He whispers a soft apology even though he loves seeing you in pain. He pulls out of your cunt, leaving you a needy, desperate, pathetic slutty mess under him.

The hand around your throat tightens a bit more, causing you to choke on your whines. He grabs the wand behind him and flicks it on, letting it come to life. Charles pinches the bottom of his cock to stave off his release, his balls swollen and heavy. He trails the wand on your inner thighs and watches as you let out a silent scream. “Pretty little angel, my angel… You’re so stupid for my cock, aren’t you? Don’t worry, Daddy’ll take care of you. He moves the hand that was on your throat down to his cock. He slaps the velvet tip on your pussy and runs it through your slit again. He pushes into you and continues to drag the wand along your body. The vibrations tease you and so do his slow thrusts. “P- Please, Daddy, it’s not enough for my tingles, please!” You beg, your hands still on his shoulders. He smiles down at you and lets out a coo, before turning off the wand and throwing it to the side.

“Mia bella sgualdrina, ora mi prenderò cura io di te. Ma ti prenderò a bordo, ti prenderò in giro e ti porterò al tuo rilascio più e più volte, solo perché mi piace vederti tutto più profondo per me.” He husks in your ear, before dragging his cock in and out of you even quicker. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder and fucks into you harshly. His swollen balls slap against your ass and his pelvis grinds against your clit — pushing you closer and closer to your release. He watches you fall apart under him, turning into a little whore just as he had planned. “Please, please, please, please, I want the fireworks so bad Daddy!” You beg, not even realizing that you’re talking. His cock throbs at your words and with one particularly hard thrust, you come undone. You bite back a scream as you cum all over his cock — coating it with your cum.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected and lets out a loud moan. The sight of your poor abused cunt being pounded by his cock makes him harder. He watches as your cunt clenches around him tightly and his grip on your hips becomes tighter. You squeeze his cock tightly and your chest heaves gravely and you’re overly sensitive. He snaps his hips into yours and occasionally grinds his cock into you, just to see you writhe. “You’re taking my big cock so fucking good, baby.” He husks in your ear, before letting out a moan that would make a nun blush. “I can hardly believe you’re taking it all, dove. I was so damn afraid it wouldn’t fit.” He groans, nudging his cock against your g-spot. Your eyes roll back into your skull. You nod your head, realizing that deep down you had thought the same thing. “Aw, too dumb to speak?” He asks tauntingly, bringing his hand to your clit.

He rubs your pearl of nerves that had been abused by his mouth. “I want to fill you up so bad, baby. I want to see you swell up with my seed… Want to see your belly grow with my baby, la mia piccola sgualdrinella.” He moans in your ear. His words set you off again and you arch your back off the bed as you hit your release for the third time in one day. You wriggle away from him as the fireworks become too much for you. You moan loudly and your pussy clamps down tightly on his cock. You squeeze him with all your might as you cream yourself around his cock. Charles shudders at the sights and swears in Italian under his breath. He rubs your clit even harder even though you’re shaking your head and trying to get away from his cock. “Don’t run away from me now, gattina… C’mon, I know you can’t handle my big fat cock, but don’t be like that…” He mopes before letting out his signature breathy chuckle.

You dig your nails into his shoulders as you continue to get railed by him. “Oh my god!” You squeal as you struggle to come down from your high. “C’mon dolce ragazza, give me one more…” He growls, making his thrusts slower and deeper. “Anything you w- want, Daddy.” You croak out between your pornographic moans. He swears he’s about to break you with how hard he’s gripping you, but he can’t find it in himself to stop. His cock head bumps up against your g-spot continuously and lewd, wet squelching sounds fill the room along with the smell of sex. A thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead and he’s panting non-stop. He grinds his cock into you, enticing a loud scream from you. He immediately clamps a hand over her mouth and presses his forehead to yours. “Shh, shh… Do it, cum on my cock, baby.” He growls, before letting out a loud moan.

You cum with a loud, incessant moan that’s muffled by his hand. Charles groans as his orgasm is triggered too. He pushes deep into your pussy and his cock stills. His balls tighten and your cunt clenches around him as you both cum at the same time. The feeling of his cum filling you up makes you moan pathetically. White, hot, stickiness coats your walls and fills you up to the brim, the never ending amount of it making you sigh is pleasure. Charles watches as some of his cum leaks past his cock and he’s instantly hard again. He waits until he fully comes down from his high before pulling out from your pussy. He’s not sure whether he should go for a second round or not, but you’ve already made up your mind. “Daddy… Can I have more, please? I love it so much, a- and I’d really like for you to help me with my tingles again!” You beg with puppy eyes and an irresistible pout.

He moans at your desperation and neediness before laughing breathlessly. “Oh la mia principessa, you’re already such a slut for my cock…” He smiles down at you and you just whine, making grabbing hands at him. He rolls you over and sits down with you straddling him. Charles’s cock is right against your used pussy and he drags the head through your soaking, cum-coated folds. “Please, please put your c- cock in me…” You beg in a hushed voice, falling onto his chest. He bucks his hips up and enters your pussy in one smooth thrust. One hand lifts you up slightly and the other wraps itself around your throat. “Oh please!” You beg even louder, your face all contorted in pleasure. A growl rumbles in his chest and he begins to fuck up into your pussy. You cry out, and feel tears stinging your eyes from the overwhelming feeling. Both yours and Charles’s cum leaks out of you and drips all over his cock and even leaks down to his balls.

“Cosi' dannatamente bisognoso, Dio. Non ne hai mai abbastanza del mio cazzo, eh? Voglio toccarti tutto il tempo, piccola, voglio vederti gonfiare con il mio sperma. Non vedo l'ora di vedere le tue tette riempirsi di latte, guardarle rimbalzare mentre ti scopo.” He moans softly, panting like a dog. You have no idea what he’s saying, but you just nod in agreement. He chuckles and squeezes your throat just to watch you squirm under his touch. “Oh my god, Daddy! That feels so good, please…” You whisper to him, and he moves his hand on your throat to your ass. He grabs the supple flesh before spanking you for fun, enjoying the way you whimper and clench around his cock. He spreads your butt cheeks and his ring finger dances over your puckered hole. He chuckles as you begin to panic, not even knowing what he’s doing.

He lets go and spanks your ass one more time before making sharper thrusts. He’s deeper than before and you can barely handle it. You dig your nails into his chest, leaving crescent shaped scars that he’ll look back on in the near future. Both of your moans become louder and more desperate, the fireworks in your cores intensifying slowly but surely. “You’re going to cum, aren’t you? Go ahead, do it, cum all over my big fat cock. I’ll fill you up again, don’t worry my little slut.” He smiles, ghosting his lips over yours. On command, you come undone around his cock again. You squeeze him tightly and grind down on his cock on instinct, earning a loud moan from Charles. He spanks your ass again and the delicious sting has you cumming harder. You coat his cock with your juices and tiredness takes you over. You let him rail into you non stop — even though there’s a tinge of blood mixed with your shared cum.

“Oh don’t tell me you’re done already, baby. Daddy’s not even finished with you, yet. We’ll have all the time in the world baby, don’t worry. I’m going to breed you with my seed once we get to Italy, gonna make you needy for my cock all the time; it’s going to be the only thing on your innocent mind.” Charles promises, and you only smile and nod at your Daddy. He groans under you and you can hear the rumbles of it in his chest. “Please f- fill me up, Daddy!” You beg, not even knowing what you’re asking him to do. He lets out a moan at your words and begins to bounce you up and down his long, thick cock. He drives his cock in and out of you incessantly, chasing his orgasm for the second time and you’re whining loudly.

“Oh god, I’m going to cum so fucking hard baby, I’m going to fill you up just like you want me to… Fuck yes!” He shouts, watching as your tits bounce with his each and every movement. He stills and brings you down on his cock, painting your walls with his sticky, copious amounts of cum. He watches as it leaks past his cock that is stuffed in your abused pussy. He rubs your overwrought clit just to see you in pain, before pulling his hand away. You both sigh and Charles rubs his nose against yours, making you bubble in giggles. “Daddy?” You call out to him after a few moments of peaceful silence. “Yes, baby?” He answers, smiling down at you wickedly. “I… I love you…” You whisper to him, before breaking out in a smile. He lets out a hearty chuckle that you’re all but used to.

“Oh princess, if only you knew.”

3K notes · View notes

janetbrown711 · 3 years

Note

"its fine, really! I'm used to it...” “what you meant you’re used to it??” but yax

After careful and long hours of research, Yakko came to the conclusion that he at least admired Max.

He had only seen Max in person once, but there was just something magnetic about the far-away prince that intrigued and fascinated Yakko. So much so, that for the next month or so, Yakko dove headfirst into studying all he could about Max and his country. He tried to share the fascinating history and details with his younger siblings, but they clearly weren't as into it as he was. That didn't deter him though, he was determined to learn absolutely everything he possibly could- even going into Angelina's old private study for books.

It was weird not having her around to stop any of it. Was this what pure joy and excitement with no downsides was like? If so, Yakko really liked it.

Either way, he was ecstatic when his mother told him she was officially making plans to take him to Disneyland to see Max (and diplomatic stuff, but they both knew that wasn't the main reason). Upon hearing the news, he then hurried and changed his studies entirely into conversations and how to have them.

Upon his and Max's first encounter, Yakko realized he was terrible at conversations, but now Yakko swore he'd be better than good- he'd be a conversation master. He studied examples both fictional and non about advice and how royals interact with each other and conversations one was supposed to hold and he complied his notes into a handy notebook that could fit into his pocket in case he got into a tough spot mid conversation. After all- he'd probably be there for hours and hours- that's a long time to be entertaining.

So he poured himself into his studies for a week or so (time was really alluding his grasp as of late) and before he knew it, it was time for him to go. However, not before a weird reaction from Wakko he wasn't expecting... seriously, if anything, Yakko expected Wakko to be happy for him because that meant he wouldn't have to hear about Disneyland for awhile, but instead he got really accusatory. But his parents assured him that it was nothing and his mother went to comfort him while he prepared for his journey.

"That's a big notebook," Dot said, lurking by his door as he flipped through his notes for what must've been the millionth time this week.

"I have a lot to remember," Yakko said, putting it in his pocket.

"Why do you care so much?" Dot asked. Yakko blinked.

"I just... do? He's the first friend I've had... ever," He said, making her move so he could head out the room.

"But I thought me and Wakko-..." Dot didn't finish her sentence. Yakko stopped.

"Max is just... different. I can't explain it- I'm trying to understand, but he's really just... different. A good different," He tried his best to explain, but he knew it fell short.

"Oh... you must really like him?" Dot asked.

"I guess, yeah," Yakko blushed. "He's just- the coolest person I've ever met, and now that Grandma's gone and I'm free to just- hang out with people, yeah," He scratched the back of his neck, aware of the fact he needed to get going. When Dot didn't respond to that, he pursed his lips.

"Welp- I gotta get going," He gave a quick wave, not waiting for her to return it before getting going- he wanted to spend as much time as possible in Disneyland.

Hurriedly, he rushed down the halls all the way down the grand stairs and out the main doors to the carriage, where his mother was waiting for him.

"Getting something?" Lena teased, as the coachman opened the door for them.

"Just a few notes," Yakko said, following his mother as she entered. She chuckled.

"You don't need to be so nervous, dear. From what I've seen, Max already likes you very much," Lena said soothingly as the carriage started to move.

"I just... I want this to be perfect," Yakko sighed, and leaned against the window of the carriage.

Lena snorted. "You and I have a lot in common," She said, fiddling with the fingers of her gloves.

"The last time I was out of this castle before the incident was- well... the wedding... but before that? I don't think I've ever been out..." The queen looked back as her home grew further and further away. "Outside of parties and suitors I've never really dealt in diplomatic situations. God knows my mother never prepared me for half of the things- I just..." She took a deep breath.

"I want this to go perfectly too... but Scratchnsniff says perfection is an impossible goal and we should aim for something more obtainable," She reminded herself. Yakko glanced at her briefly, before returning to the window.

He wasn't sure what he thought of Scratchnsniff. Dot and his parents all seemed to like him, but he still hadn't opened up to him, even though it had been over a month now. They'd be doing... okay sometimes, but the moment the doctor tried talking about Angelina, Yakko refused to give him the satisfaction. He knew he was there to help but- yeah... That wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"We got a long ride, huh?" Lena chuckled, more nervously this time.

"Yeah..." was all he said. He had a lot on his mind, and he could tell his mother did too. Hopefully, by the time they actually arrived, they'd be able to make sense of everything and enjoy their time in Disneyland- though they'd have to wait and see.

.o0o.

The ride wasn't terrible, but it was rather long and tiresome, so it was easy to say that when they finally arrived they were both relieved.

Both Yakko and Lena were surprised at just how different Disneyland was from Warnerstock just from the windows. Everything was brighter, orderly to the point of confusion (to them anyway), and boy oh boy was it big. The castle itself was the biggest example of this, as it seemed to have countless towers and was impossible to take in all at once. Then again, the royal family was quite large and Disney was known for it's welcoming nature and having guests often, so it didn't really surprise them. It was just a lot to take in at once.

However, they didn't have to take that all in for long, as they were guided inside by a few guards and were taken to the throne room, where the three kings were sitting- a duck on the left, a mouse in the middle, and a very tall dog on the right.

"Angelina? Wow, it really is you! How have ya been?" The Mouse immediately stood upon seeing them enter.

"Mickey! Oh it's been years hasn't it?" Lena chuckled and went and hugged him, which the mouse gladly returned, leaving Yakko and the others very confused.

"Do... you... know him?" Yakko raised an eyebrow.

Lena cleared her throat and stepped back. "Right- yes, I forgot to tell you, Michael here was a suitor of mine back in the day," She explained. "Obviously, it didn't work out, as both of our hearts belonged to another, but it wasn't a completely terrible three days."

"Oh please, I'm Mickey to friends," Mickey said. Lena nodded.

"Right, yes, Mickey," Lena corrected.

"Oh," Yakko nodded slowly.

"You must be Yakko then. It's a pleasure to have you as a guest," Mickey smiled and shook Yakko's hand. The dog king's head perked up.

"It's a pleasure to be here," Yakko replied, hoping his nervousness wasn't showing.

"Prince Yakko?" The dog king stood and walked over. "It's a pleasure to meet you, h'yuk," He laughed as he shook Yakko's hand. "Max has told me about you."

"Oh, you must be Goofy, pleasure to meet you," His nervousness increased tenfold. He couldn't believe he didn't put that together upon seeing him immediately.

"Daaaaaaaaad," Max entered the room, looking at the ground with his face red as a tomato.

"Hiya Max! I was just introducing myself to your friend here," Goofy grinned, still shaking Yakko's hand.

"This is why I don't tell you things," Max muttered to himself. "Can we go?" He asked, grabbing Yakko's arm, freeing him from the handshake.

Mickey nodded. "Of course, we got our own business to deal with, you two have fun," He said, and with that, Max practically dragged Yakko out of the room.

"I am so sorry you had to deal with that," He sighed as the guards closed the door behind them and Max let go of his arm.

"Deal with what?" Yakko tilted his head slightly.

"My Dad- he just- he doesn't know when to stop no matter how many times I talk to him," Max shook his head. "C'mon, I know a good spot to hang out. Watch out for running triplets."

"Running triplets?" Yakko raised an eyebrow.

"Huey, Dewey and Louie like running around without warning- as do Morty and Ferdie and if Daisy's over then so do April, May and June- just keep an ear out for them," Max explained, checking both ways before crossing a hallway.

"Right, right," Yakko nodded, not really understanding how they'd ever be allowed to do that. Then again, not having a tyrannical grandmother around probably let them have a lot more freedom and fun.

The pair went down a few halls, always checking both ways as they went, before they reached a room that Max let him into to reveal that it led to a fairly small room with a few chairs, but outside of that was a large balcony it was clear the dog prince frequented.

"Nice place," Yakko admired the room as Max opened the glass doors for him.

"I come here a lot to clear my head," Max said, closing the door behind him. "And to get away from my family."

Max must've really not liked them, huh...

"Yeah... I could really use a place like this," Yakko admired the craftsmanship of the columns holding up the railing.

"Watch this," Max winked, picking up a stone from a pile of rocks, and throwing it down into the giant pond in the garden bellow, causing a massive splash and ripple.

"Cool," Yakko said.

"It's nothing really," Max blushed again and went to where the rail met the wall and sat on it. "Wanna sit?" He patted the spot next to him.

"Oh- I uh-..." Yakko peered over the edge cautiously. It wasn't too far a fall, but still. It was easy to say it was far enough down to make even the most un-acrophobic person a little nervous.

"Oh, are you afraid of heights? I'm sorry, I-"

"No no no, I can handle it," Yakko swallowed his fear and sat next to him, glad that it was wide enough for him to feel supported. Still, he wrapped his tail around the edge loosely as a precaution.

"So... what do you think?" Max asked. "Of Disneyland, I mean."

"I think it's really... different. Very organized, very..." Yakko thought to himself. "Very homogeneous and large, yeah."

Max snorted. "Homogeneous?"

"It means similar or 'the same'," Yakko cursed himself internally. Max laughed with a little 'hyuk' in there that made Yakko relax, though a familiar fluttering in his stomach returned.

"You're really smart, aren't you?" Max asked.

"Yeah... my grandmother's pride alright," Yakko looked at the garden.

Great, barely five minutes into the conversation and he already broke his number one rule he wrote to himself: Don't bring up Grandma.

"I don't think it's your grandma's fault you're smart. If that was true, then I'd be a lot more wacky like Dad," Max did his best to reassure, which despite all odds did kinda work.

"You keep bringing up how much you don't like your family," Yakko commented. "Why?"

"Why? You've barely even met them- they are just beyond crazy and drive me up the wall with how embarrassing and tiresome they can be," Max crossed his arms.

"I mean- my sibs can be a little crazy at times but I still like them," Yakko said.

"You don't know them," Max sighed, looking out to the garden too. Yakko decided it was probably best he drop the subject for now.

However, after that was a long stretch of silence, and Yakko started to panic as it got longer and longer and he couldn't think of a thing to say. Thankfully though, he remembered the notebook sitting in his pocket and he slowly and carefully took it out and looked for a good conversation starter.

"What is your favorite type of weather?" He asked, quickly slipping it back into his pocket. Max immediately burst into laughter.

"Where'd you think of a question like that?" He asked.

"If you don't like it I can ask a different one," Yakko turned bright red as he flusteredly turned over, pulling out the notebook and flipping through it.

"Do you have a notebook of conversation starters?" Max caught a glimpse.

"Whaaaat? Me??? Pssshhhh," Yakko adamantly denied, but he sighed, knowing he had been caught.

"Yeah... I figured since I majorly screwed up talking like a normal person last time I'd take some notes so the conversation would be far less depressing and not so... trauma centered," He admitted, showing him the notebook.

"Wait- you think you're screwing up?" Max seemed baffled, which confused the Warnerstockian Prince.

"I mean- yeah..? No matter what I do I always end up thinking about the same stupid topic and I dunno... you seem so much more normal than me," Yakko admitted, looking away.

"I feel like I've just been a bumbling dork this whole time," Max admitted too. "You've been really smart and interesting this whole time, with your fancy words and observations about stuff and... yeah," He scratched his neck.

"You think I'm interesting?" Yakko looked at him.

"Yeah man," Max looked at him, though only briefly. "You're... cool."

That made the fluttering increase tenfold.

"You're really cool too," Yakko smiled. Max nodded his head in acknowledgement, looking out to the garden once more.

"You know... I promised I'd give you some sporting pointers when you came by. Perhaps I should 'make good' on that promise," Max said, gesturing to the pile of rocks and other such objects clearly designated for throwing into the pond.

"Okay," Yakko agreed to it, putting the notes back in his pocket, following Max as he went over to the pile.

"The trick is that it's all in the wrist, and if you keep your eyes focused on where you wanna throw it, it does a lot to help it actually go there," Max said, as he picked up a rock and threw it with all his might, and it crashed far into the pond.

"In the wrist, huh?" Yakko nodded and acted like that made sense. He then picked up a rock, and threw it with all his might. However, his might was rather pathetic, and all he managed to do was to crack the tiling around the pond and it shattered into pieces, as Yakko felt the blood drain from his face.

"Max, I-i'm so so so so so so sorry, I-i-" Yakko sputtered out apologies but Max just started laughing and laughing.

"It's okay Yakko. We're royalty, remember? My dad'll just have someone fix it, it's totally cool," He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "But hey, other than that, that wasn't half bad."

"She'd totally kill me if I did that at home though," Yakko cursed himself.

"She? Who, your mom? Cuz from what I've heard she's a big sap," Max said, confused.

"Not mom, my grandma," Yakko sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"Your grandma's dead, Yakko. She can't punish you for that. You can break all the tiles you want here, it's cool," Max said, now deeply concerned for his new friend.

"Right- you're absolutely right. I'm sorry," Yakko took a deep breath.

"It's cool... I get that it must be hard moving on from that," Max's hand lingered on Yakko's shoulder a minute before he put it down.

"Yeah..." Yakko sighed as he realized he broke the rule yet again.

"I know you probably don't want to, but if you ever need or want to talk about it, I'm more than happy to listen," Max offered. Yakko smiled a little.

"Thanks... that means a lot more than you probably know," He said. Max smiled too.

"You're a lot cooler than you give yourself credit for, you know?" Max said. "You may not be the best at sports, but you are really good at talking, which is more than I can say."

"You sell yourself short," Yakko disagreed.

"Maybe we both do," Max shrugged, returning to the ledge.

"Yeah... maybe," Yakko said, sitting next to him once more.

As they began to chat more about much lighter and happier topics, a warm spring breeze began to rush by and Yakko began to just... notice things about Max. The way his fluffy and wild hair flowed in the wind, the way his eyes sparkled when he talked about one of his passions, his cute laugh that he always seemed to try and suppress, the way he stuck his hands in his pockets, his smile, the compassion and comradery in his eyes...

Yakko could gaze into those eyes for an eternity.

"It's getting pretty late... isn't it?" Max began to notice the sky beginning to turn a rosey shade of pink as the sun began to set.

"Yeah... I guess that means we have to get going soon, huh?" Yakko tried to play it casually, but he knew he'd miss Max dearly. Max's side glances told him he felt the same.

"Maybe you can write to me? A-and maybe... Maybe I'll convince dad or Uncle Mickey to take me to Warnerstock?" Max scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to play it cool.

"I'd love that," Yakko smiled, before pondering if using the word "love" was inappropriate. It wasn't like he- well... liked him, or anything... right..?

"Okay," Max smiled back.

They stayed smiling at each other much longer than was normal, though neither really minded.

"Maxy? Yakko?" The voice of Goofy called for them outside the room outside the balcony.

"I need to go," Yakko said. "But... I will write, I promise."

"I believe you," Max nodded. "Though... don't be surprised if my letters are short and my handwriting attrocious- I'm not the best when it comes to any of that stuff," He said, getting down from the rail, offering his hand to "help" Yakko down.

Yakko took it.

"I'm sure it won't be any worse than Wakko's," He said.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Max chuckled as Yakko got off, still holding his hand.

However, they instantly let go when Goofy entered the room.

"There ya are- you're mom's looking for you. It's gettin' late," Goofy said, opening the glass door.

"Right, yes.. thanks, dad," Max pursed his lips and looked away.

"I'll write, I promise," Yakko said.

"Y-yeah, okay," Max nodded and smiled. "I'll... see you soon."

"See you soon," Yakko nodded, before forcing himself to walk away (a task that was a lot harder than he expected it to be). Goofy then guided him back to the throne room, where his mother was talking with Mickey and Donald (Yakko figured that was who he was), but she stopped when he entered.

"There you are," She smiled as he returned to her side. "Have fun?"

"Yep," He nodded briefly, hoping she didn't expect him to get into detail here and now.

"It's been great catching up, Angelina," Mickey told her.

"I couldn't agree more. And it's been a pleasure meeting you two, Goofy, Donald," She nodded at both of them. "I'm afraid I must get going, but I'd love to meet up again sometime- or possibly take Max off your hands for an afternoon," Lena teased Yakko, causing him to turn red.

"I'm sure he'd love that," Goofy smiled.

"Have a safe trip," Donald said in the scratchiest, most garbled voice Yakko ever heard in his life. It was so incomprehensible he had to actively bury his shock and confusion as to not offend him.

"Thank you," Lena nodded at the three of them. "It's been a pleasure, truly."

"Yeah.. see you," Yakko felt like he had to say goodbye too, but having not just spent the past several hours with them, it felt awkward. Mickey chuckled.

"See you," He said.

With that, Lena and Yakko made their way out of the castle and back into their carriage and began on their way back home.

"So... how was your day?" Lena asked once the carriage began to move.

"It was nice. Max is... cool," Despite his research, cool was still the best word to describe him.

"That's good, he seems like a very nice kid," She nodded in approval. "I wouldn't mind having him over sometime in the future."

"That'd be great," Yakko agreed with enthusiasm that made her laugh.

"Okay, I'll arrange a date," She chuckled.

"What about your day? How was all those meetings?" Yakko asked, not just out of politeness but a genuine curiosity.

"I half expected Mickey not to remember me, so it was a pleasant surprise. And Goofy and Donald are quite the lovely characters too, very strong personalities. I can see why their kingdom works so well," She said with a nod.

"But I know you really don't want to hear about all that. Please, tell me more about Max," Lena said.

Yakko told her all that happened, not glossing over a single detail. She listened with intent, and couldn't help but laugh here and there.

"It sounds like you're rather fond of Max, no?" She said.

"What do you mean?" Yakko blinked. His mother chuckled to herself.

"Oh nothing, I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own in due time," She said.

"Okay..?" Yakko raised an eyebrow, not sure where she was getting at. However, it was clear she wasn't going to be giving any more hints so Yakko dropped it.

Whatever it was, she clearly had perfect faith he'd figure it out sooner or later, so perhaps it was best he focus on other things- like what he was going to write in his letter to Max. There would be so many topics to choose from, and this time he'd have all the time in the world to think of a perfect response. Honestly, he should've started writing letters sooner. It just made so much sense- Yakko could think of the perfect response before sending it away and he could read over Max's responses over and over again. Maybe he could even find a box to store them in. That sounded really nice...

Yakko thought back to his mother's words, and decided it was true.

Yakko was rather fond of his dear friend, Max.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

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itssuppertim3 · 3 years

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Second Chance (Miraak x Reader) Part 2:

Y/n takes Miraak home with her in order to ensure his recovery.

Saying that the trek home was tiresome would’ve been an understatement. There was still a very high risk of him fainting, and I thanked the Divines that he didn't. Not only was this guy a giant, he was extremely heavy. And he was still relying on his own weight! I couldn't bare the thought of him becoming deadweight. If he did, I'd have to run home and fetch the horse! He was still in an abundance of pain. I might've healed most of his external injuries, but there was still some internal damage. "You did say that your home was not far from here, yes?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Don't worry, it's right past this clearing."

"... Why are you helping me?" The question puzzled me more than I expected. Why was I helping him? Judging from his outlandish appearance, he could've been a daedric prince in disguise! Either that or he was some sort of criminal. No normal person could receive a wound like that and live to tell about it. Everything about this man screamed shady, and yet here I was trying to save his life."I couldn't just leave you to bleed out by the road when I knew I could've done something to prevent it. You look scary, but I think your life was worth saving regardless," I informed, smiling softly at him. His dense brows quirked upward in surprise and a hint of amusement. "Then I owe you my gratitude."

"Don't owe me any gratitude, yet. You still need to be patched up, first." We were both more than pleased to see the cottage rolling into view. Elsbeth burst out the front door, hatchet in hand. "Y/n, what in Talos--?! Who is that?" she yelled. "I found him out by the road. Just help me bring him inside." I might've acted calm in that moment, but my head was spiralling in anxiety. Elsbeth hastily threw down the axe and helped provide some leverage.

When we finally made it inside, the three of us hobbled upstairs and into the guest room. We tried to sit him onto the bed as gently as we were able, but he ended up collapsing onto the mattress with a hard thud. In no time at all, he was fast asleep. Until now, I neglected to notice the weirdly-shaped sword strapped to his waist. I quickly removed it and propped it against the wall. Elsbeth watched in bafflement the whole time. "What in gods' names is going on?" she hissed, fearing that he'd hear her.

"I saw him on the ground while on my way to town. I couldn't just leave him there," I said simply. This caused her to only gawk further. "You're telling me you found this weirdo next to the road and up and decided to take him home??" While she was in the midst of trying to process it all, I began to cast another healing spell. "Look, I know how crazy this is. But he needs my help, El, and you know there aren't any good healers in Riverwood." The blonde huffed and crossed her arms, not wanting to tear her eyes away from his sleeping form. "Just don't let him bleed all over Pa's bed, got it?" With that, she strutted downstairs.

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Hours had trudged by, and I was still waiting eagerly his side. There were a number of things scattered about, such as empty potion bottles, bloody rags, and spell tones. By now, the deep crease between his brow had smoothed out and the only expression that remained was a peaceful one. I took some time to stand up, stretch, and and look out the window. It was late in the afternoon, for the sky emitted a gorgeous auburn color. My stomach churned at the thought of food, so I started my way into the kitchen. However, my actions were paused when I felt something grasp my wrist.

With one powerful tug, I stumbled backward. I didn't fall, thank goodness, but I could still feel the stranger's iron grip. I turned my gaze to him, sensing his distress. The look he gave me was flatout bizarre. He almost seemed scared. No, he looked terrified. "Are you... are you ok?" I asked while trying to brush aside the pain. "I," he started. He slowly sat up. "I don't know..."

"Was it a nightmare?" He stared at me in a small fit of awe and combed his fingers through his dark strands. He repeated the word with such bewilderment, I wondered if he had actually had a nightmare before. Upon realizing it, he released his deadly hold on my arm and said, “my apologies. It’s... been a long time.” I could feel my smug side begin to peek through. “A long time since what? Having a nightmare or touching a woman?” He cocked his head at me. “Aren’t you quite young to be speaking in such a manner?” he taunted subtly. The vein on my forehead began to throb. “I’ll have you know, I’m nineteen! I may look young but I’m very mature for my age.”

“Perhaps. I’m alive thanks to you, so maybe there is some maturity in there.” Something inside my chest flipped when he smiled at me for the first time. Maybe I was just tired.

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“I’m giving your mystery man a little extra. Who knows, maybe he’ll actually enjoy my cooking unlike a certain someone,” teased Elsbeth, handing me two bowls of soup. I laughed mockingly at her. “If he dies, I’m blaming it on you.”

I returned to the bedroom and placed his bowl in his lap. "Be warned, this food might look yummy but it's quite the opposite." He didn't reply. He only swirled his spoon through the hot, soupy liquid. I watched as he finally lifted the spoon to his mouth and slurped quietly. "You don't have to pretend to like it. It takes a lot to hurt my sister's feelings--"

The man discarded my comment by completely devouring his meal. He tipped his head back and tapped the bottom of the bowl with his palm, not leaving behind any scraps. I merely sat there in an abundance of shock. What shocked me even more was when he said, "I would like some more." I took his empty bowl and replaced it with my own. "You do not want any?" He made it sound as if I was the weird one. "Uhh, no! You look like you need it more than I do," I chuckled nervously. He ultimately shrugged off my response and finished his second helping with ease

When he was finished eating, I propped my elbows against my knees. "You know, my brain's been so preoccupied, I forgot to introduce myself." I lent my hand out to him, beckoning for a shake. "My name is Y/n." He exchanged glances between me and my polite gesture. After a few cautious seconds, he enveloped his hand around my own firmly. "It's nice to meet you, Y/n."

"And this is the part where you tell me your name," I laughed. I noticed his brow begin to furrow as his eyes fell to the bedsheets. "I'm afraid that I cannot tell you my name," he confessed in obvious distaste. I tilted my head at him, clearly puzzled by his odd character, though I refused to ask him why. "Well, I have to call you something. How about Bjorn, for now?"

"Bjorn?" he pondered. "Yeah, I think it suits you quite well. It was my pa's name, so don't go dishonoring him." Almost immediately, I could feel his curiosity blossom. "Where is he now? Did he die?" I choked on air at his abruptness. "Wow, you really don't beat around the bush, do you?" I laughed. "He used to be an adventurer and he was almost always gone. He taught Elsbeth and I how to look after ourselves properly. We never thought we needed it, but then one day, he never came home."

"I see. And your mother?" A small hint of resentment bubbled inside my chest at the mention of her. "She ran off with another man when I was young." It was funny that this suspicious stranger was the one asking me questions. "What about you? Do you have any family?" I asked. He grew somewhat lost in thought at my words. "Yes, I did at one time... but they have been gone for many, many years." I pursed my lips. "Have you ever heard of the legend of Miraak?" he began. My face gleamed with excitement. "I love that story! My father used to tell it to us when we were little, though my sister was too afraid to listen."

"And you weren't? He was a monster, you know." I pressed my index finger against my chin as I pondered. "I guess in a way, I sort of pity him. In truth, I think the story's sad. I mean, I can't imagine what he felt after all of the things that happened to him... but I've always had a soft spot for villains--" My words were cut short when he cupped his hand over my own. "Sorry, it's just that I can't help but agree," he murmured.

"Haha! You really are an odd one aren't you?"

That night, the two of us talked for hours. I could hardly keep my eyes open, and yet I so desperately wanted to stay awake with him. My head rested against my forearms as I continued to fight off the urge to sleep. At least I wasn't the only one exhausted. Bjorn was slumped against the headboard, his head lulling occasionally. "Strange. It's been such a long time... since I've felt this tired," he muttered softly. In a matter of seconds, we both drifted off into a comfortable darkness.

#miraak #skyrim #x reader #first dragonborn #one shot #part 2

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vanaera · 5 years

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The Heart Holiday | Act 1 | myg

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing your PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.

Characters: Yoongi x Female Reader

AU/ Trope: Office AU (Creatives manager!yoongi x PA!reader), enemies to lovers, fake dating

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy (the triple t(h)reat)

Wordcount: 11, 798

Warnings: Lots of curses from two emotionally-constipated characters (PG-15 Rating)

A/N | This fic is in part with FWL’s Valentine’s project, The Luv Library: Romance. I had this premise about a Valentine’s holiday for a while and finally, I got to use it for this fic.

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Ten seconds are enough to look at Min Yoongi. Two seconds to look at his unkempt, unprofessional, and stupid fringes that nonsensically cover his already small eyes. Three to look at his stupid, smug smile. Another two for his overly-confident stance—leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the table, hands clasping together—as if he’s better and of higher power than anyone else around the room when he’s just a measly representative of the day for the Creatives Team. And the last three seconds—they are enough to look at his mocking eyes, his jeering gaze, and the arrogant quirk of his brow.

This is the same look he gave to Y/N when he got promoted ahead of her. This is the same look he flashed to Y/N when he berated every word choice in her reports. And, this is the same look in his face when he ruined her presentation which could have been her ticket way out from this hellish job. Smug, arrogant, and proud, Min Yoongi is set to ruin Y/N’s life. And all Y/N could do now is glare at him and hope her eyes could set him on fire so it will be easy for hell to swallow him up and—

“Y/N?”

Y/N whips her head to her right, “S-sorry?”

Nancy Kim clicks her tongue, “Why are you just standing there, glaring at the windows? I told you to distribute the copies among the room.”

“R-right,” Y/N gulps and rushes forward. She hands the copies of last month’s Travel Loca issues among the representative of each department. Gracie from the Marketing Team sneaks her a small smile, which Y/N returns. However, that smile falls into a frown when she reaches the devil himself.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Min Yoongi greets, chin rested on his palm. When Y/N doesn’t greet back, Yoongi takes it upon himself to wink at her. With a huff, Y/N slams down the copy on the table in front of him, enough for the glossy, firm cover page to hit his pile of notes and cause some pages to fly off the table.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Nancy calls out, sighing. She waves away at Y/N and the latter takes it as a cue to sit back on her chair. Nancy leans back in her huge black chair, “Okay, let’s get the ball rolling. Now tell me something I don’t know.”

Y/N seats herself on the chair by the corner of the room, behind Nancy’s chair, far from the round meeting table. Every team representative starts to report their progress last month and their suggestions for the next, next month’s issue. Meanwhile, Min Yoongi is still busy picking up his notes on the floor. When he’s gathered them back, now in a sloppy stack, he looks from his crouched position and flashes Y/N his middle finger. She flashes back a finger at him, grinning. Y/N looks down at her small pocket notebook.

“Y/N – 1. Yoongi – 0.”

So far, this morning is really good.

Y/N hates Min Yoongi, and this is beyond an understatement. She hates him so much that the word “hate” started to become insufficient to describe her tantamount distaste for that man. Y/N blames his last name for that. “Min” should not be how his last name spelled. It should be M-E-A-N because that man is beyond mean.

When Y/N first met Yoongi, she knew there’s something off with him. He stands so arrogantly, so prideful as if he deserved every bit of the floor space of Travel Loca’s Main Office when he just got hired because there’s no other job-seeker that has actually applied. Yoongi looks at other people as if he’s any much greater than them. Lazy eyes, far-off gaze, indifferent façade—he just looks at you as if he’s listening when he’s actually just hearing so he can make some witty comeback. And Yoongi talks like a dictator know-it-all. He corrects every word people say here and there, like “Y/N, are you sure it’s ‘demonstrate,’ not ‘visualize’? We can’t physically see something if there’s nothing to see,” or “Y/N, you shouldn’t say ‘Xerox.’ It should be ‘photocopy.’ Xerox is just a brand, our junior high teacher told us so,” as if every word anyone says but him, will always be wrong. Yoongi talks as if no one but him will always be right and that everything around him does not deserve a bit of his attention unless they prove their worth to him.

And it frustrates Y/N to no end that no one seems to see his real form but her. Because apparently, Yoongi is “amazing.” Yoongi knows a lot of foreign places, having traveled to Malta, New Zealand, Hawaii, and yaddah yaddah, making his first-hand knowledge essential to the Writing Department. Yoongi has a lot of expertise in various editing apps, and he’s willing to teach the tricks and nicks to it to anybody. Anybody but Y/N. Because behind closed doors, Y/N knows his true face: Min Yoongi is a thick-skinned, double-faced bitch. That even if his name is on the tip of the tongue of anyone around the office every single morning, his quick promotion as manager of the Creatives Team a never-ending topic starter, Y/N knew the real story. Because Min Yoongi started out as Nancy’s Personal Assistant…just like Y/N.

Nancy Kim is the best photojournalist in the history of travel magazines. God-tier even, because when Nancy is just an intern in The Traveler’s Foot, she wrote the best articles Y/N has ever read. It didn’t matter if they were about a cliché tourist spot that has been featured over and over again or something bizarre that could make anyone wonder someone in their right mind would actually go there. Nancy is the goddess of travel journaling and Y/N obsessively consumed every article she wrote during her entire senior high and college life. So, to be able to get accepted in a company Nancy built, as Nancy’s personal assistant, is a sweet as fuck dream come true. Y/N didn’t care if she has to go home by 12 A.M. or 1 A.M. as Nancy said PA’s always have to leave the office after their bosses left. Nancy just shows the dedication to work one must have. Y/N didn’t find it tiresome when Nancy has to send her back-and-forth for errands both for work and personal life. She’s learning how to be resourceful while being good at time-management all at the same time. She’s learned a lot from Nancy. So, seeing Min Yoongi be so lax at work after getting hired frayed Y/N’s nerves to no end.

Yoongi doesn’t keep a tab on Nancy’s schedules just like Y/N does. He says there’s no reason for such rush to keep every event on track because Nancy will just cancel or push forward them anyway. It’s true, Nancy does sometimes mess up the week calendar Y/N arranged for her, but still, not tabbing anything on your work diary is still an evident proof Yoongi slacks of. He even takes a nap in between work hours for God’s sake. Yoongi also likes to talk behind Nancy’s back: of how inconveniencing, overbearing, and unnecessarily over-the line abuser she is as a boss. He tells this to Y/N day in and day out. Yoongi even mocked Y/N’s work ethic as a “willing subservience to work slavery.” He mercilessly reduced her dedication to work as blind obedience to an authority for the sake of monthly paychecks instead of hard, honest efforts to learn the essential skills in travel journalism.

And, it’s not a miracle no one finds out about this. Because when Yoongi is indeed caught, he finds one loophole in his and Y/N’s dynamic as co-PA’s for Nancy and implicitly, oh so subtly, turns it around against Y/N. Y/N remembers one time when Nancy berated them two for not inserting her friend Rosa’s son’s first birthday party into the 6 PM slot of one Monday in March. After her long sermon, Yoongi apologized for not encoding it into Nancy’s Schedule Work Sheet. Y/N handles Nancy’s Schedule Work Sheet, not Yoongi. Nancy knows this. So, after her 9-12 shift that same Tuesday, Nancy reminded Y/N of her replaceability in Travel Loca during one of the most tension-filled elevator rides in her life. She went home to her flatmate, Mina, in tears which did not permit her to get an ounce of sleep. Y/N turns up the next day at work, red eyes and red nose close to make Rudolph the reindeer run for his title, only to know from the call logs that Yoongi did not receive Rosa’s call because he was sleeping when Y/N outright told him to take over the phone because she needed a bathroom break.

Min Yoongi is mean and Y/N has seen the last straw of her respectful tolerance to people ticked off by this insufferable man one cursed Thursday night of September.

Thursdays are horrible. It is always assured to be the worst day Y/N will have in a week. Either an investor will change their mind about a deal with Travel Loca, or Nancy will lash out at her because of stress from stupid shenanigans of her rebellious teenage daughter—Thursdays always have it out for Y/N. Y/N can already tell this so when Nancy called for her at 10:30 P.M. to give her a run-down of her schedule for the weekends and the upcoming week. It is already an established routine that Nancy will have Y/N over to her office to give a schedule report at any time of the day. It’s just happened this day that Yoongi took a leave and Y/N shouldered every task to be done, easily wearing her out in the afternoon.

Y/N is close to crying right now because of exhaustion and it does not help that Nancy is wearing a sour face. She does not even look up at Y/N from her laptop when she said, “Tell me this week’s schedule.”

Y/N pulls up her notebook and traces her pen over her notes, “Tomorrow you have an 11 AM meeting with investors from VanTae Apparels. At 1 PM you will have an online meeting with our overseas partners, JM Restaurant Group. We also have to submit the Kim Yuna special feature by 2 PM and at 3 we have the Travel with RM to interview. And–”

“Push the Travel with RM to 2. We’re holding the Yuna feature ‘til next week because Jennie is writing as if she’s still in college.” Nancy presses a hand over her forehead and huffs, “The Writing Department has been consecutively disappointing me with boring, generic articles. Are fresh pieces non-existent nowadays?!”

Y/N looks up, eyes wide, hands sweaty.

Nancy turns back to her laptop, “What else is on my sched?”

“Um, O-on Saturday 4 PM, you are invited to your friend’s, Rica’s baby shower, and for 5, you are invited to Jungsoo’s son’s 1st birthday party. Then Sunday 2 PM is Hana’s sister’s daughter’s 1st birthday party. You are also invited to Nick and Ken’s wedding on Friday and–”

Nancy clicks her tongue, “Cancel them all. I have no time for these parties and meaningless chit-chats that always have these housewives bragging how great their husbands are or their children’s stupid what-nots.”

Y/N nods and slashes through her notes, “Okay.”

“So send them my apologies and give them a $300 gift instead.

“Okay, ma’am.”

Nancy turns her swivel chair to face her, “Did you get my daughter the unpublished sequel of The Swallowing?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Y/N smiles, recalling her last week’s adventure and success. Maybe Nancy’s mood will lighten up if she knew how she accomplished such an impossible task. “I got to grab a copy after weeks of talking with R. Lewis’ manager. Luckily, R. Lewis caught wind that it’s for your daughter. So he agreed to give me the copy. I actually have it right now, let me go back to my table –”

“You don’t have to. Suzie changed her mind. She doesn’t like The Swallowing anymore. Return the copy and get her the unpublished sequel instead of Bird and Foe.”

Y/N’s jaw nearly falls as she stammers, “S-sure, no problem.” Deep inside, Y/N cannot help but think to herself, “Yes, Nancy may be fickle-minded and forgetful of differences in company protocols that intervene with such transactions, but she cannot just disregard my hard work! All the money in my train tickets and brain cells have gone all in the drain for nothing—Okay, calm down, Y/N, this is Nancy. Nancy can help you to write the best articles in no time. This is just training for the real deal—

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“S-sorry, what?”

“I said, where’s the USB I told you to get from my laptop at our home? I need the files for the JM Restaurant Group.”

Oh shit. The USB. Y/N told Yoongi to get it since he lived nearer to Nancy’s residence in West Street than her. And since, Yoongi’s on leave, the USB is—!

“And first thing in the morning, I want you to go to the Writing Department to get some fresh stories. I do not want to personally see them or else I will be able to fire one whole department in a day.”

At this, Y/N fiddles with her fingers. “Umm, I think I have a story.”

Nancy quirks her brow.

Y/N wrings her hands behind her back. “I-it’s not yet polished and I still have more to cover on–”

“So, you’re already telling me it’s bad before you even pitch a formal proposal –”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she rushes to Nancy. “No! I-it’s about the Write and Backpack Trip Club. The-they’re a club of unpublished writers, usually late 30s, who met on Facebook and decide to travel together to the countries or places their stories are supposed to take place.” Nancy tilts her head and Y/N picks up her tone. Her hands start to quiver with her voice as she says, “People think—people think it’s hopeless. Like, like, they’re wasting their lives on something so trivial instead of focusing on their jobs. But this club gave them a purpose to still reach for their dreams even when people tell them it’s already too late. And I just,” Y/N wipes a stray tear on her cheek–which she doesn’t know if it’s because of her attachment to the club, Nancy’s new orders, or her frustration at Yoongi for leaving all their responsibilities on her–but she sucks them up and breathes out, “I find it really inspiring to have the courage to seek out your purpose when everything in the world is against you.”

Nancy stares at her, brows furrowed. Another drop of tear falls from Y/N’s eyes. Nancy fixes her eyes back on her laptop. “The USB, Y/N, I need it now. A.S.A.P., capiche.”

Wiping her cheeks again, Y/N nods, “Ye-yeah, capiche.”

Y/N could not remember any time she’s rushed out the office as fast as now. Yoongi’s cell is out of reach and nothing is present in Y/N’s mind but to just run out of the building. She needs to clear her mind. She has to think of a solution. She can’t go back to Nancy empty-handed. Nancy’s already unimpressed of her sloppy work for this day, much more at her uncalled emotional breakdown in her office. She will definitely get fired for sure this time.

The cold dry wind hits Y/N’s face the moment she pushes past the large glass doors of the Rockfort Building. The night sky has blackened into dark indigo and the establishments that dot the neighboring grounds of the building have blurred into monotonous dim shops. With just their solar lights left on, the rest of the complex looked like a washed-out commercial center. The only thing that stands out has to be the small mango tree just a meter away from her—the center-piece and quite the only humanizing element of the harsh Rockfort Complex.

Okay, this is great. Y/N always tend to get the best ideas and solutions when she’s standing near this tree. She proved this twice. First, when Nancy demanded her to re-do all their presentations for VanTae Apparel. Y/N managed to slay it by getting inspired by the mangoes and editing the templates to look like nature’s rendition of Van Gogh’s starry night, which happened to be the favorite painting of VanTae’s CEO. And second, when Yoongi messed up Y/N’s schedules for Nancy’s personal events by misnaming each invitation, this mango tree provided her peace to quickly fix everything up before Nancy gets to the office.

Put your thinking cap on, Y/N. What should you do? Should you rush to Nancy’s house now? Oh no, maybe Yoongi already got the USB. Should you go then to Yoongi’s house? Shit, I don’t know his house address—

“Here’s $25, sir. Thank you!”

Y/N freezes. It can’t be.

Y/N turns to her right only for her eyes to land on a man with a familiar jet black mop of hair, standing about two meters before her, talking with a blue-vested delivery man.

No. No. No. NO. Min Yoongi cannot just swoop out of nowhere and sound so chirpy like that while I have to stress over a problem that I DID NOT create. I cannot get fired in a company I’ve spent my life on for two years just because of this man’s unreasonable incompetence!

Fueled by the purest form of aggravation, Y/N stomps ahead and brushes Yoongi’s shoulder, making him turn back to her.

“Oh, hi, Y/N.”

“‘Hi?!’ ‘Hi,’ yourself, Min Yoongi!—"

“Oh my God,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “she’s Adolf Hitler again.”

“Adolf Hitler?!” Y/N scoffs, “Say it for yourself, Min! You’re Hitler because you’re twisted enough to ruin my career because doing shit in yours is not enough. Where’s Nancy’s USB?!”

“If you’re going to talk about work again, I gotta leave. If you didn’t know, a ‘leave’ is a leave.” He emphasizes the last syllable as he starts to walk toward the street.

Letting common sense knock into her, Y/N momentarily disregards her pride and runs after him. When he rounds the corner of a clothing boutique, she slips by his side and places herself in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking him.

Unlike his usual work attire, Yoongi is clad in a black hoodie and denim ripped jeans, an ensemble that remarkably turned to look horrible in 0.5 seconds just because he’s wearing it. Y/N deduces it’s just Yoongi ruining fashion because he 24/7 looks like an asshole.

“What, are you just gonna stare at me?”

Yoongi’s voice brings Y/N back to her purpose. “No, I’m here to tell you, you forgot to do your job—Nancy wants her USB for JM Restaurant Group right now.”

“Well, I don’t have it, sweetheart. Work hours are already over so practically, I’m in no responsibility to do whatever the fuck Nancy wants,” the man quips back, smiling.

Y/N cannot help but snap. “Why are you even here in Rockfort, then? You didn’t turn up for work and now you’re just casually strolling in front of our building. You didn’t take home at least a quarter of our tasks and dumped everything on my shoulders like an irresponsible, signature free-loader high school groupmate. And now you think it’s okay to tell me ‘sorry, I don’t have the USB’ when I told you yesterday to bring it today?! I cannot believe what an asshole you can be, Yoongi.”

Yoongi raises a hand. “Okay, chill, tiger. To answer your question, I am here because my friends and I hung out at a bar near here. Not that you will understand, of course, considering your whole life revolves around work, work, and work. Ooh, and Nancy,” Yoongi grins. “How can I forget you idolize Nancy? Actually no, you worship her.”

Y/N’s face falls into an indignant scowl, “I do NOT worship Nancy! I respect her. Which you also should do because she employed you, not the other way around. Also, I have friends! Mina is my friend!”

“Correction, Mina is your only friend at work. And she happened to be your flatmate and college buddy first before you both had luck to also be co-workers. So no, your friendship with Mina is out of the equation.”

Y/N opens her mouth to tell him Mina cannot be out of the equation when Yoongi beats her, “And second, how could I be a free-loader? A leave is a leave. Our job description did not say we should also take work home. You are the only one who does that because you’re paranoid. So don’t impose your so-called work ethic, that is actually masked obsession, to me because I am a mentally healthy person. I don’t want to have a stick in my ass like you do.”

Y/N steps closer to Yoongi, making the latter cock a brow at her. “I’m not paranoid, Min. It’s you who is the problem. You don’t take this job seriously. You don’t take on responsibilities like a mature adult. You think you’re so great just because no one told you you suck at something when you were a kid. Well, let me tell you now. You suck at plain human decency, something that should be innate in every people. You’re so high up your ass you think you can just do anything and get away with it and you–”

“If you’re just going to insult me, can you do that tomorrow? My food is getting cold.”

Oh no. Nancy’s USB. Y/N closes her eyes and releases a long sigh. She thinks her eyes already did a 360 by the time she managed to fix her composure. She looks up at the man in front of her, currently giving her an amused look. Y/N’s voice cracks as she says, “Yoongi…This is the only time I will ask a favor from you. Please help me with Nancy’s USB. I just want to end this night and go home peacefully without her chewing my head off further more. So please, please, please, can you just help me for once?”

“Hmm,” Yoongi scratches his chin, “let me think about it first.”

“Yoongi, please!”

“Okay, fine,” Yoongi grimaces, “considering you practically begged to me for dear life, I, as a human with pure soul will help you out despite all the shits you said to me—”

“Just help me out!”

Yoongi slaps your reaching hands, “Stop, I’m not yet done with my speech. Anyway, considering this as a favor, not a request, I expect a return of favor, too.”

“Sure, fine, anything!”

“Okay, I think I may or may not have slipped in Nancy’s USB in my bag,” Yoongi breathes out as he reaches for his black satchel. “Oh yeah, I totally have it,” he says, flashing the orange 32 GB USB in front of you.

What the fuck. All this time-!

“Why didn’t you tell me you already have the USB?!”

Yoongi nearly guffaws, “Didn’t I tell you a “leave” is a leave? Wait, oh my god, you should see yourself, sweetheart. You’re about to pop a vein.”

“Min Yoongi, I fucking hate you!” Y/N snatches the USB from Yoongi’s hand and stomps back to the direction of the Rockfort Building. The man doesn’t seem to go on his own way though because Y/N hears him holler “Same sentiment too, Y/N!”

Y/N doesn’t turn back. She just raises a middle finger up that she’s sure Yoongi will not miss. And he did not, for the man’s faint chuckles only continued.

The travel back up to the 12th floor seems like the longest elevator ride Y/N has ever been on. Every additional second into the constricted metal box feels like a one-second deduction from her own lifetime. So when the elevator doors open to Travel Loca’s floor, the air is immediately knocked off Y/N lungs. But not because of relief. Nancy stands in front of her, bags in hand, and obviously upset.

Y/N quickly steps out of the lift. “Nancy, here! The USB!”

“You took too long. Just e-mail them to me. I have to cram-reading them in the morning anyway because a certain someone forgot to do their job.” Nancy brushes by her shoulder and steps into the elevator. “You know, Y/N, if I’m paying you to make my life easier for me and instead, you’re making it harder, your position in this company is useless.” Nancy presses the button for the parking lot. The doors close in front of Y/N, letting her see the disappointment on Nancy’s face for the last second of the night.

Y/N goes home twenty minutes later, worn out, and ready to sleep the second she reaches her floor. But when she opens the door, Mina’s smiling face greets her, and she immediately rushes to the sofa next to her bestfriend.

“Mina, oh my god, I have so much to tell you.”

“Me, too!” Mina giggles, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s arms, “Can I go first though?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Y/N smiles, fixing her seat.

“Well, remember last week when I told you I finally confessed to Mark?”

“Mark, as in, the café barista Mark Tuan?”

Mina jokingly hits Y/N’s arm, “Yes, what Mark would I be talking about?”

“Sorry, you know how I get so spaced out when I’m tired and groggy. Anyway, what happened?”

“Well, Mark finally said yes!” Mina bursts into a wide grin, arms outstretched in joy. “I finally get to date Mark!”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you, Nana,” Y/N engulfs Mina into an embrace, “I can’t believe you’re finally in a relationship! I mean, who would not want to date you? You’re smart, pretty, and funny. The boys have missed out on you for seven long years. And now, there’s finally someone who has eyes and can see what a gem you are. And damn right, Mark would see that. It’s not every day he can have a gorgeous girl court him for six months after getting rejected twice.”

“Oh my god, stop bringing that up!” Mina playfully slaps her back and Y/N chortles.

“Okay, okay, I’m just joking. What I really mean is: Mark is a lucky guy. I’m glad he finally realized what an idiot he will be if he rejects you again for the third time when you’ve been with him through all his problems. He won’t find another beautiful girl willing to ride his motorcycle with him in a huge-ass dress just to help him deliver orders in time. You’re the total package Mina and I’m so happy Mark has realized it.”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re making me blush,” Mina laughs. She sways the both of them in their hug, “Mark has an impossibly high standard to meet now because of you.”

“Mark doesn’t have to meet any standards,” Y/N snickers, “You already drool at his face the moment we enter The Daily Bean.”

Mina detaches herself from Y/N and dramatically places a hand over her chest. “How can you remember that so well and not who Mark is?”

Y/N shrugs, “Because I’m not staring at Mark and eye-fucking him 24/7.”

“Oh my god, I do not!” Mina giggles, making you laugh again as she hugs you tight once more. Mina’s fingers card through your hair as she murmurs “But you do know, Y/N, even if I’m in a relationship now, I’m not gonna leave you alone. Even if Mark will start to occupy the top priority in my life, it doesn’t mean you will lose your spot in the top-pest part of my list. You know you’re still and will forever be my number one, right?” Y/N hums at that, closing her eyes from the head massage Mina is currently giving her. She feels Mina nod, “Right, you should because you’re practically my baby.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! Who would wash the red stain on your pants and underpants in the girl’s CR while you prance around the cubicle only in a top because you bled through your bottoms during your period, much more, on our Christmas Party, other than me?”

Y/N grimaces, “Oh god, you didn’t have to bring that up.”

“You hit right through me when you said I eye-fuck Mark so yeah, eye for an eye, bitch,” Mina cackles as she finally unlatches her arms around her friend. “Anyway, I’m finished with my story of the day. Your turn. What happened tonight?”

Y/N bites her lip, unconsciously easing an inch between her and her bestfriend. Mina is in a good mood today. Y/N doesn’t want to ruin it by ranting off about how horrible Yoongi is again. She knows Mina. She will listen to her rant about another bullshit done by her co-PA and she will also indulge in an insult-fest against the man. That’s just their dynamic: Y/N’s enemy is Mina’s enemy and vice versa. So as Y/N looks at Mina’s smile which doesn’t do much covering up her dark eyes, which have grown from staying up late to wait for her to come home for multiple nights on end, Y/N decides it’s enough negativity for the day.

“It’s nothing, Mina,” Y/N shakes her head, forcing a smile on her face, “just another tiring day from work.”

Mina tilts her head, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Y/N flashes her another smile as she heads for her room, “I’m totally fine. Just tired. Congratulations to you and Mark again.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Mina replies, but the look on her face tells Y/N she’s unconvinced of what she said. Seemingly aware that her friend needed space, Mina turns back the TV. Before Y/N closes her door, she hears Mina chuckle to a punch-line in the airing sitcom.

Y/N flops on her bed face down. If Yoongi didn’t put much of a fight and just handed her Nancy’s USB when he knew he already had it, then maybe this night won’t be so horrible. Y/N would have given Nancy her USB in time, and her boss could have acknowledged it as a peace offering to her unremarkable work performance that day. Y/N would have totally rejoiced with Mina with her full heart into it and not force a smile on her face when such an announcement deserves much more celebration.

Y/N releases a stifled scream into her pillow. Thursdays are really the worst and it’s all Min Yoongi’s fault.

However, what Y/N didn’t expect is that the following week will get much worse. The Writing Department is late in their deadline, causing the online publication of the September issue to be pushed in the first week of October, a big deal late to the releases of their magazine competitors. Thus, Nancy became more pissy and naggy, giving Y/N a cold shoulder for the longest streak in her work life. Nancy became more frigid when Y/N failed to get Nancy the copy of the unpublished sequel of Bird and Foe. Y/N tried her best, she really did. It’s just that the publishers of Russell Park refused to give another copy because they said they cannot give out two unpublished copies at the same time. Of course, this turned out as a lazy excuse to Nancy, making her dump additional workload on Y/N’s already staggering pile. But that was not what made Y/N’s last week of September the worst week she’s ever had. It was Min Yoongi getting promoted as a staff member to the Creatives Team after giving Nancy the unpublished Bird and Foe sequel.

Ringing phones, staff members running to- and fro- the beige faux wood office floor, and the occasional requests for coffee from the break room–Travel Loca is buzzing with life as usual. But not for long though, because the clock hands are currently on 12:49 P.M. At 12:57, it seems everyone on the floor have gone silent. Almost everyone taps their foot against the floor. All eyes were set on the digital wall clock. Some have even glanced on their own wristwatches to check if the wall clock was right. The hands start to move. Everyone gulps.

The hands hit one o’clock. Everyone scrambles off their swivel chairs. Some have bee-lined for the break room. Meanwhile, a huge mass had created a bottle-neck of office workers at Travel Loca’s main door. No one is left on the staff chairs, except for one: Mina Young.

The accountant slides her swivel chair to the left. Her hands meander through her large file cases and when she feels a cold, ribbed metal surface on her index, she smiles. Mina pushes the on-button and immediately, the then-silent office space has now become a replica of her own flat.

“Good morning everyone! Today seems an extra sweet day than yesterday because you know what? I can smell and see the sweet aroma of those dark, chewy chocolates and those pretty pink balloons surrounding our streets. That’s right folks, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner! Which also means–drumroll for me, Alexa–Holidays are about to sweep in! It’s just three weeks to go, folks, note that! So, for our dear, sweet listeners, I hope you already got your hotels booked and your plane tickets ready so you can finally have that amazing buffet, relaxing spa, or a fun tour around places you’ve never been with your very lovable significant others! I’m sure all of you will have that wonderful, exciting, and pleasurable rendezvous away from school, work, and any responsibilities. Just make sure to channel in on our station if you want the best playlist to get you in the mood for some steamy, passionate, and intimate time–”

“Mina, will you turn off that radio?”

The short-haired brunette frowns at her friend, whose also frowning at her. Mina pushes up her glasses on her nose, “Why? You know I always listen to this station during break time. Plus, Nancy is not here.”

“Still, it doesn’t excuse how irritating that DJ sounds.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she plops herself on another swivel chair. “His voice sounds like there are two styrofoams gyrating each other in a sweaty club.”

Mina’s jaw drops as she turns off her portable mini-radio on her desk. She faces Y/N with a frown this time—actually a scowl now. “Kim Seokjin’s voice is like creamy velvet to the ears! Also,” she scrunches her nose in disgust, “you did not just sexualize non-living objects so casually as if you’re not aware that the mental image you’re painting is so disturbing.”

“First off,” Y/N turns to her, swivel chair squeaking in her abrupt movement, “you’re already seeing Mark Tuan for you to have any weird fantasies about Kim Seokjin and his voice or how cute his laugh is when it literally sounds like he’s an old man dying on a choked-out old joke. And second, sexualizing objects is not illegal by law and even if it so, I did NOT sexualize them. They are just the perfect representation of how Seokjin’s voice sounds.”

Mina purses her lips and props her elbow on her desk to cup her face. “Cut to the point, Y/N. Just tell me what is with you today. You barged in furious in here for no reason, threw a fit at the break room, and now you’re ruining lunch by insulting Seokjin for something so trivial.”

“Trivial?! His voice is fucking irritating! Just because he’s handsome does not mean his voice will also sound good on the radio. It’s like listening to a whale dying while making mating calls–”

“The point, Y/N?” Mina cuts you with an unamused look.

You deflate in your seat. “Fine, it’s Min Yoongi. He made it a point that he is more intelligent and capable than me in our 10 AM meeting with Nancy for this month’s spread. Said he knows more about weird facts and trivia about Sweden because I never got to travel outside this fucking country when I damn well know he only uses some advanced search engine to look for info like the computer whiz that he is! I went so many times on his Facebook to know he posts nothing in his wall but his work achievements—and his dog! Of course, if you went outside the country, you will post pictures in your wall, ‘cus social media sites are just platforms masked as an outlet for free expression when we damn well know it’s just a place where you can brag and be not called out for being arrogant. And damn hell, Min Yoongi does not have any out-of-the-country pictures posted there. What only comes close is his picture of that gumbo he said he made—yeah, quotation marks—because it looks too good to be made by his ugly crooked hands and even if it’s got this aesthetic background not expected to come from this fucking country, I still think he just photoshopped it.” Y/N crosses her arms, “Bet that gumbo did not even taste good.”

Mina scrunches her forehead, “Are you the only flawed person Min Yoongi sees? Why does he always have to nitpick every single bit of your work? He just criticized your last week’s report because of your ‘poor articulation.’”

“Right?!” Y/N leans back on her chair. She groans, “I still remember how he sabotaged my files for Nancy’s professional and personal events. Who in their right mind would change the contact names to mythical creatures? Rica’s 2nd baby shower was named ‘Merlin’s Demon Baby’s Party?’ It’s a baby event for God’s sake!” Y/N looks at her friend, “I swear Mina, one day I will get a brain hemorrhage because of Yoongi’s shits.”

Mina winces, “Please don’t. I don’t want to be the one to tell your mother you already died before you even managed to pay your housing loans.”

“Hey! Don’t attack me like that,” Y/N slaps the back of her friend’s chair. Mina, choking on her spit first, erupts into a fit of giggles.

Unfortunately, it seems lunch’s fun will be cut short as Y/N hears Nancy’s megaphone’s speaker start up, “Calling for Y/N to come into my office. A.S.A.P!”

Y/N scrambles from her seat as Mina sees her off with a sad wave. Pushing through Nancy’s glass door, Y/N could see the lines of ridges forming on Nancy’s forehead before the latter can even eye her.

“Y-yes, Ma’am? You called for me?”

Nancy pins her a look, “You’re asking me if I called you? Are you deaf? Did you not understand what I said?”

“Yes!—I-I mean on the understanding part, yes, not about being deaf or something hehe-“

“Y/N,” Nancy clasps her hands on her table, “I called you here because I have something important to tell you.”

Y/N nears her table, pulling up her notebook and pen.

“I need you to work in the Creatives Department for the next two weeks.”

Y/N’s fingers freeze. She looks up at Nancy with eyes as wide as a goldfish. And before she can brain-filter out her words, they’ve already escaped her mouth. “What do you mean I have to be in the Creatives next week? I’m your personal assistant, not Min Yoongi’s!”

“Y/N, I didn’t say you will work for Yoongi. He’s not the head of the Creatives. Steven Spielberg is,” Nancy gives the girl an unamused look, waving her off from her desk. Y/N bites her lip as she takes two steps backward. She didn’t know she’s rushed up too close to Nancy’s table just at the prospect of Yoongi and her working together came from her boss’ lips.

Nancy leans back on her chair, “I know you two have this petty children-in-the-playground fights ever since the start of October last year. I get that your differences are too great to be bridged anytime soon, thus the reason why I grew tired telling you to stop doing your cat and dog thing because I know you two wouldn’t listen anyway. You two just like to bang heads whenever you like—”

“But, it’s Yoongi’s fault-”

Nancy raises a finger, “But, Y/N, this is really important. I will be out-of-the-country for the next three weeks for both some business and family matters. Hence, why I cannot bring you with me as usual. And why I will need you to work under Steven for the meantime: to report to me about any of their progress. The Creatives’ current designs will have us late into this month’s deadline and I do not want this business going down anytime soon because of a weak holiday cover. So, as my PA, you will report everything about their progress to me, and you will report my feedback to them. At the same time, you will tame your childish fights with Yoongi to a minimum so Travel Loca will function as well as it can be while I’m not physically here. Understand?”

Y/N nods, “understand, Ma’am.” She doesn’t have a choice even if she wanted to object. Whatever Nancy dictated is already set in stone.

“Also,” Nancy looks at Y/N, “since I will be off the next three weeks, my schedules for the weeks in my absence will be pushed and packed on the following week. So, I expect you to still work on your station—and work even harder after I came back. Understand?”

More workload? Y/N internally groans. She doesn’t like work getting reduced early into the week then doubling into hell in the latter part of the month. She likes them evened out—everything is balanced, familiar, and predictable. Nevertheless, Y/N only nods, “yes.” “No” doesn’t exist in Nancy’s dictionary.

Nancy returns to her laptop and waves her off, “Okay. Then, capiche.”

“Yes, ma’am, capiche,” Y/N makes a quick bow and scampers out of her boss’ office.

When Y/N reaches her station, she sinks herself into the cushion of her seat. First, Min Yoongi belittles her researching ability in the morning meeting. Then now, she will work with him for the majority of three weeks. After that, another hell will start because of Nancy’s incoming packed schedules.

Y/N’s eyes land on her laptop and she immediately sees her calendar. January 16, 2020. Thursday. Y/N releases an inhumane groan. Of course, the goddamn Thursday curse. When will she ever live?

“When will I ever die?” Y/N sobs into Mina’s shirt. Her friend keeps her arms around her tight as she cards through her hair.

“Hey, don’t think so negative,” Mina coos, “Think of this as an opportunity to finally have Nancy off your back.”

“Yeah, as if working with Min Yoongi is better than that. He already ruins my life when we only physically encounter each other in meetings and breaks and lunches. Imagine working with him for a whole fucking day!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I take that back,” Mina hugs her friend tighter.

Y/N continues, “And after enduring all that, my workload will quadruple when Nancy comes back after three weeks! I already experienced this during her daughter’s debut last year. When Nancy said a pile of work will come, it fucking means four metal file cases of work. I spent the last two weeks of August plunging myself into an abyss of papers. I did not sleep for two weeks straight! And now— I will have three weeks-worth of hell work to come after spending three weeks working with the personification of Satan. Can the world just eat me up?!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Mina pulls away to hold her bestfriend at arms-length, “What did you say will happen in three weeks?”

Y/N closes her eyes, “Another hell will come because a shit-pile of work is coming in three weeks! Mina, I’ve been telling you this since morning-”

“Y/N, after three weeks, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Y/N’s eyes immediately shoot open, “What?”

“Look,” Mina clicks on her phone and flashes Y/N her calendar app. “Today’s January 17. Exactly after three weeks is the Valentine’s week.”

Y/N’s jaw drops ajar, “Oh my god.”

“Yes, Y/N, oh my God. It’s the fucking Heart Holiday.”

“…The country’s long-time problem with their low birth rate has driven the government to build another department that will help its citizens build, manage, and maintain healthy relationships. The Department of Relationship Management was established in 2015, and ever since then, there have been impressive developments in our country’s birth rate. One of the best programs of DRM behind this wonderful growth is the Heart Holiday, the holiday held in the week of Valentine’s Day. It grants any person employed in a private sector one week of paid holiday vacation leave as long as they are currently in a relationship. Meanwhile, education establishments and students are given one week off their academic calendars without regard to their relationship status. Isn’t that sweet? The only downside to that, folks, is that government employees can only have two days of paid holiday leave on the 14th and 15th. But, still, a holiday is still a holiday! So for our lovely listeners, start planning your vacation trips and hangouts! Especially when Cloud 10 Airlines is there to make your holiday week even sweeter with their 70% discount on local trips! Just contact 675-9859 and 568-987—”

“Mina, can you turn off the radio?!”

“Again?!” Mina heaves, “What’s with your aggravation streak these days against Kim Seokjin’s voice?”

“It rattles me,” Y/N half-screams, plopping into the swivel chair next to her friend’s cubicle. “Yesterday, he already announced that goddamn timeline of the DRM and ‘all hailed’ importance of the Heart Holiday. Why does he have to repeat it again today? In that overly-enthusiastic voice, too, as if he’s never read of that script again and again?!”

“Y/N, it’s how broadcasting works. It’s one of the most awaited holidays in the year, so of course, they will nab as many advertisement deals as they can.”

“Well, I don’t like how they work!”

“You cannot just tell a radio company to stop working,” Mina turns in her chair to face her friend, “Also, stop venting your frustration on Seokjin. He doesn’t even know you hate his voice. Routinely doing this noise pollution doesn’t do anything at all. Just tell me what made you upset today.”

“It’s Yoongi!” Y/N scowls. “He won’t explain to me the technical editing terms on Steven’s report for Nancy! He said a five grader can even know what they are. I went through fifth grade, Mina, and I did not freaking know about any photoshop shit!”

“Well, that’s because you’re old.”

Mina looks up and sees Yoongi hovering her cubicle.

Y/N’s scowl deepens, as she turns her chair to the direction of the intruder. “As if you’re any much younger. From what I know, you’re four years older than me, dumbass.”

“Well, at least I know what Steven is talking about,” Yoongi props his chin on Mina’s cubicle.

Y/n rolls her eyes, “Because it’s your freaking line of work! Of course, you’ll know about it!”

“Well, you’re now working most of the time in the Creatives Team and you don’t know it. What does that make you, then? I’ll give you a hint: It’s what you called me three seconds ago. Starts with the letter ‘d’ and ends with the letter ‘s.’”

“What? You think you’re so smart now just because you know that vector-mask-thingy?! News flash, Yoongi, you did not graduate with any Latin honor. I did! So, who’s the real dumbass?!”

“You damn well know Latin honors doesn’t actually have any effect on real life. Practical knowledge has—especially knowledge about terminologies used in digital designing. Which you need because you won’t be able to report anything to your god Nancy. Because, well: You. Don’t. Know. Anything. Like. Always.”

“Min Yoongi, fuck you–”

“Guys, guys, guys, can you stop?”

Y/N gives Yoongi another glare before fixing herself back in her seat. Mina puffs, “Yoongi, can you leave us alone for a while? We’re talking here and you just invited yourself in our conversation.”

Yoongi chides, “Well, tell your friend that if she wants to shit-talk a person just a meter away from her without the said person barging in the conversation, she should keep her voice on the down-low. Not screaming around like a crazy ape.”

Y/N’s jaw drops open, “What crazy ape?! You’re the crazy ape! You look like a fucking gorilla who accidentally get dwarfed by a tooth fairy and-”

“Min Yoongi, just leave us alone,” Mina gives the man a pointed look.

Yoongi shrugs and detaches himself from her cubicle. He heads back to their office but he doesn’t completely leave the room without giving Y/N a middle finger.

Y/N’s mouth drops open in disbelief. She turns to Mina. “See? Isn’t it obvious he just wants to make me the bad man to Nancy again? What kind of person are you to not cooperate with your co-worker like a goddamn adult? I don’t get why no one sees this bitch’s true face but you and me! I just want to freaking tear off his face, make him wipe it in his ass, then place it back on his head since he’s such a literal ass—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mina clasps a hand over your shoulder, “don’t get too homicidal. What you just said, aside from disturbing, is very disgusting.”

Y/N slumps in her seat and crosses her arms.

Mina sighs. “Okay, yeah, I know, Min Yoongi is the worst. But I don’t want you to do anything stupid so let’s not talk about him for a while, ‘kay?” Y/N nods. Mina leans back in her seat with the nth sigh for the day. “Okay, I got some update from Jaehyun.”

Y/N leans forward. “What did he say?”

Mina gives you a sad smile, “He already has a fiancé.”

“So soon?” Y/N scoffs. “He was just courting me two months ago.”

“Yeah, well he’s getting married this week. Whatever,” Mina waves off, “I don’t like him for you anyway. He dresses like a college fuckboy.”

“Okay, what about Dahyun?”

“Already married.”

Y/N’s eyes widen, “and she didn’t tell us?”

“Yeah, I already nagged her on the phone. She said it all kinda happened too fast–her and Sana. And the marriage was in New York. We’re too broke for out-of-the-country trips to attend anyway if we were informed.” Mina smiles, “She said she’s gonna invite us to the Christening of their baby.”

“Okay, I’m glad she still cared about us. Oh,” Y/N pipes up, “what did Jackson say over the phone?”

Mina gives you a tight smile. “Getting married, too. And guess what, the invitations were already in our mail box when I went to get our bills.”

“Momo?”

“Engaged. She and Heechul just broke out the news a week ago.”

“Sam?”

“Married. And 4 months pregnant.”

“Jongdae?”

“Engaged. Also has a baby in way.”

“Hana?”

“Engaged.”

“Changmin?”

“Engaged.”

“Jaebum?

“Engaaaaaged.”

Y/N throws her hands in the air, “Why is everyone getting married?!”

“Well, we’re in our late 20s. It’s the “marrying age” they say. It got more enphasized when DRM’s programs had succeeded in encouraging hundreds of people to marry in the recent year. Even my mom already expects Mark to propose by next month. We’re just dating for 6 months!” Mina cringes. She pulls Y/N’s chair closer to her to hold her hands. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. It kinda slipped my mind that we always apply together for the Heart Holiday every year. It’s just that Mark and I—”

“Hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. You’ve been pining after Mark for about two years and now look at you—together, stable, and in-love half into the year! I don’t want you to fret having a relationship with the boy you liked for so long.”

“Yeah, Y/N, I know,” Mina closes her eyes. “It’s just sad and unfortunate everyone we know are already in relationships.”

“Yeah…” Y/N nods and the two fall into silence. Why is everyone conveniently in a relationship just in time with the Heart Holiday? What, the whole world suddenly knew the loophole in DRM’s program? Y/N and Mina studied that for a whole year! This is unfair. Y/N cannot be the only single person out there who’ll miserably work in the office while everyone gets to have the time of their lives—wait.

Y/N grabs Mina’s hands. “Hey, Nana, I know we said co-workers are off-limits because Nancy will definitely know it’s a ruse. She’ll block my application form before it can even have the seal from the HR. Especially when she found out our lesbian “relationship” was fake after you and Mark updated your civil statuses.” Mina winces and opens her mouth to apologize again but Y/N cuts her with a finger to her mouth. “Nancy will definitely call me a liar and grill my head if she finds out what we’re planning to do now. But look, Nancy’s out of the country. Teddy is the general supervisor and she’s the next in the hierarchy. We damn well know her 45-year-old heart is soft for some nicely-woven romantic story. Even more, in an office setting—the bane of every middle-aged woman’s sappy romantic heart. So, what do you say?”

Mina lets out an exasperated breath, “That crossed my mind, too, you know. But, Y/N, the thing is—the whole Accounting Department is in a relationship. And the same goes for the Writing, Marketing, Logistics, and HR. All of them are either in a relationship, married, or getting married.”

“What?” Y/N’s eyebrows curve up high, “How come I didn’t know this?”

“Uh, because you’re busy working for Nancy day-in and day-out? Also, I just happen to be friends with Jisoo from HR. She’s in charge of the company’s relationship records. Sometimes, she slips in everyone’s stories while we listen to WWL Radio during break time.”

Y/N bites her lip. This can’t be happening to her. Not now. Not when the most un-objectifiable reason for a break from Nancy is about to slip through her fingers like fine sand.

Mina scratches her nape, “I…may have someone in mind though.”

Y/N’s eyes look straight into Mina’s. “Tell me.”

“Well, the entire Creatives Department is either married or engaged save for one.”

Y/N holds Mina’s hands tighter. “Who?”

“Min, Yoongi.”

Y/N must be going crazy. She thinks she must be growing a nest of vultures in her brain now, the mother routinely picking on her numerous dead brain cells to feed to her young. It doesn’t help that the bags under her eyes have started to droop like a waterfall, forming a sad saddle of grey on her cheeks. She cannot even remember the last time she had a decent meal. All she remembers is the finger foods Mina hands to her station every once in a while.

The universe is being unfair to her and it is all taking a toll on her body. They weren’t kidding when they said adjusting to a new environment is an entire whole work in itself. The Creatives Team runs a completely different routine. Large monitors crammed with multiple editing softwares Y/N cannot understand surround the studio-size office space. There are drafted papers and previous issues scattered in every possible corner, some even gathering dust by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Y/N is not even sure if anyone has re-arranged their desks in the last few months. The Creatives’ work ethic is loosely bound on schedules and everyone seems to be doing everyone else’s job. Except for Y/N, because Steven is the only one willing to share their team’s progress to her. But that alone is not enough for her daily report to Nancy because Steven is always busy in his computer. More unfortunately, everyone is wary of her. Y/N’s sure she even saw Kim Myungsoo clutch their design folders closer to his chest when her eyes glanced at his cubicle.

Sure, Y/N expected everyone will have their guards up on her. Who wouldn’t be when they know Nancy still has eyes on them even if she’s countries away? But still, it doesn’t lessen the pain on Y/N’s self-esteem and the stress on her back. If Y/N can’t get someone to talk to her, she won’t be able to provide a more substantial report to Nancy more than just reading Steven’s printed reports verbatim.

Y/N is desperate to find a workmate to discuss everything happening in the Creatives with her, but unluckily for her, she only has someone she wishes to not even breathe the same air with. Of course, no one in the Creatives wants to talk to her except for Min Yoongi. He’s an insufferable ass who doesn’t know when to shut up. He welcomes Y/N every single day with an annoying “Yo, Y/N” and an unneeded commentary about her outfit, like how yesterday he told her “I know retro is in but I didn’t know grandma blouses are deemed stylish again.” He blabbers about his unnecessarily extensive general knowledge about every South Asian country, even if Y/N countlessly told him she didn’t care. He brags about the cover designs and templates he did in the previous issues, flipping the pages too close in Y/N’s face while he speaks about colors and mixing like Y/N is an imbecile about basic color combinations high school students used in their PowerPoint presentations. Yet despite them all, Yoongi still refuses to explain to her the jargon in Steven’s reports.

Y/N tried her best to keep herself from bursting and giving Yoongi an earful of sense. Yes, everyone knows she does not like Yoongi but Y/N doesn’t want them to know to what extent she can go to express them, afraid of embarrassing herself. But in her defense, three days into the first week without Nancy, Yoongi has gone as far as to chip a small bit off Y/N’s mug in the break room. The mug with the “creative juices” in cursive printed around its body—Mina’s gift from college. Y/N’s patience meter was blasted off the roof. It will be safe to tell that at the end of the day, Y/N has screamed the hell out of Yoongi that everyone can be sure the latter’s ears may have fallen out of his head. Steven was close to reporting to Teddy what just happened. It was just Y/N’s remaining luck that helped her successfully and implicitly begged Steven not to do so by telling him calling Yoongi “a mean, inconsiderate, self-absorbed jerk who should eat his shit because people are what they eat and he is obviously the biggest shit in her life,” is just her “unique” way of expressing co-worker appreciation to the man.

Aside from putting up with Yoongi’s Satanic attitude, Y/N has to endure Nancy’s intermittent calls with her forever pissed voice coming in first thing in the morning until in the late, ungodly hours. And despite Teddy’s patient guidance over Y/N’s “transition” to the Creatives Team, Y/N’s still close to digging a six-feet deep hole in her station. No, not because of Teddy or Nancy. It’s because she poured her remaining effort dedicated for work by spending the entire week going through every staff member of Travel Loca. Y/N thought Mina must have overlooked a face. That it’s possible Jisoo skipped on a detail she told to her friend. But despite learning Lee Minyoung from the Writing Department is going to call it quits to her boyfriend just after Valentine’s, or how Michael Park from Marketing is about to pop the ring to his girlfriend just right on Valentine’s Day, the looming fact Y/N dreads presents itself on January 24, two weeks before Valentine’s: No one else in the office is single but her…and Min Yoongi.

Of course, it didn’t surprise Y/N, Yoongi must be single. With that know-it-all façade and condescending tone wearing you out like a 24/7 walking instruction manual no one even asked for, who would even like to date him? One week with him as a co-worker alone already makes Y/N want to throw herself into the flaming hot pit of the nearest volcano.

But it’s only two more weeks before Valentine’s and Y/N is desperate and desperate times call for desperate measures. Y/N did a last-minute check-up on her and Mina’s lists of contacts—phone, social media, e-mails, everything under the sun—only to come up with nothing. Mina’s “marrying age” theory must be true because everyone, every single one, of their acquaintances are already married or getting married. Y/N then changed up her game. She started to opt for resources she never thought she will ever use in her life: dating apps. Tinder, Bumble, The League, Grindr—name it, Y/N had made every account for every conceivable dating site. She even spent the most of her break time this week hiding her phone beneath her desk and swiping right. But even this last considerable option proved to be pointless as all the replies she received are either honest “sorry, not interested,” rude “you’re no fun,” or out-right salacious “suck my dick.”

This then left Y/N no choice but to consider the most unspeakably horrendously unfortunate option she didn’t even want to have. Min Yoongi is her only choice left. And for that, Y/N spent two days making an elaborate plan. She can’t afford any loose threads or plan-holes that can further make her at the mercy of the infuriating jerk. However, even if she made everything as seamless as it can be, Y/N knows it will be the worst decision she’ll ever make in her life. Mina also expressed the same concern, even apologized for planting that small information about Yoongi in her friend’s mind. But even her friend’s day-by-day discouragement to push through with her plan is not enough to deter Y/N.

Because even if just thinking about the plan makes Y/N feel the world is about to crumble and swallow her down in its unending, fathomless depths; even if it makes her want to set up an appointment with an exorcist, Y/N knew she won’t back out. It’s not viruses or bacteria, it’s a seeded idea that is the most contagious living entity that can take hold of any human being. And the moment Y/N realized there’s no other ticket way out of her dilemma but Yoongi, she knew this thought will haunt her for nights on end.

This is the reason why Y/N’s currently standing by the corner of the Creatives’ office when it’s already 6:46 P.M. while almost everyone has left the office. Almost, because Yoongi, apart from her, is the only one left in the office as Steven requested him to finish a color palette by tonight. Y/N gulps a thick blob of saliva. Sweat runs thick on her forehead. God, if Mina could see what Y/N’s about to do, she will be already by her side, yelling for her to just give up. Y/N shakes her head. This is Mina’s fault anyway. If she didn’t plant the idea in her head, she wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t be creeping behind a door like a disgusting stalker. She wouldn’t be profusely sweating in an air-conditioned room like a guilty murderer. She wouldn’t be-

“What the hell are you doing behind the door?”

Y/N shrieks and jumps a half-foot away from her spot.

“The hell—what’s gotten into you?!” Yoongi frowns, “And why are you even here?”

Y/N’s brows meet together in her forehead. But before she can speak, Yoongi’s snickers drown out the words in her throat.

“Wait, don’t tell me you’ve come as far as spying on my work. I didn’t know you’re going to be this petty,” Yoongi sighs and puts his hand on his waist, “Well, if you think going through my work laptop will get you to understand Steven’s report, I’m sorry to say you won’t get anything, little girl.”

Yes, it’s true. The words did die out in Y/N’s throat. It’s just flames of anger sweeping in the valleys of her mouth. Y/N surges forward, fists clenched tight, “‘Little girl’? I am not a fucking little girl!”

Yoongi grins, “Then what should I call someone who’s a foot smaller than me?”

“What fucking ‘foot’?! We’re just inches apart! Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror? You’re not even that tall!”

“Says the one who’s looking up at me just to level her eyes with mine,” Yoongi raises his brows, “and who’s now standing a little too close to me because apparently, standing a socially-decent foot away won’t enable her to see my face.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she immediately takes a step back. She doesn’t get how easy it is for Yoongi to rile her up that she instantly forgets how to control her body. When she looks up at him, the man is smirking at her. Her mouth aches to tell him he actually looks stupid with that lopsided smile if he thought doing it will make him a tad bit inch sorry excuse of “sexy.” But then, Y/N remembers she has a purpose tonight. She didn’t just waste an hour waiting in the excruciating office space of the Creatives Team just to get nothing done.

Y/N closes her eyes and breathes out. When she opens them again, she looks at Yoongi in the eyes. “I’m not here to fight with you, Yoongi. I’m here to make an offer.”

Yoongi scoffs, “An offer? You? Are you hearing yourself right now? In case you weren’t informed, I don’t need anything from you. And I didn’t—”

“You’re single right?”

Yoongi gawks at her, “W-what?”

“Well, I’m single, too. And Valentine’s week is coming in two weeks.”

“So?”

Y/N tries not to grit her teeth, “So, that means the Heart Holiday is also coming. Nancy is bound to come back during that time, too, with an obvious incoming large workload to come for me. I can’t afford to hole myself up in this office while everyone gets to enjoy a paid holiday week. And since you have an affinity for disliking your job, I figured you also wouldn’t want to go to work during Valentine’s week.” Y/N crosses her arms, “So I’m here, Min Yoongi, to give you an offer: Fake date me for two weeks to make it to DRM’s PRS’ application deadline. When our application gets approved, we part ways and never speak about what happened in these two weeks. It’s a win-win situation. I don’t get to work during Valentine’s. You also don’t get to work, and we both will still get paid. So, what do you say?”

Yoongi just stares at her. Y/N could feel cold sweat running from her scalp and down to her back. Why is he looking at her like that? Why is he being so silent? Is he about to make fun of her and bring it up to work tomorrow? Oh God, Y/N shouldn’t have even gone through with this plan. This is a bad idea. A bad, bad, bad, idea that should have never been entertained and buried in a trunk of embarrassing memories, never to see the light again—

“I’m in.”

Y/N freezes, “W-what?”

Yoongi takes a step closer to Y/N. He leans forward, closing the distance between their faces into mere six inches. Y/N doesn’t need to crane her head up anymore because this time, their eyes are finally leveled with each other.

Yoongi smiles, “I’m telling you, Y/N, I’m in in your plan.”

Y/N looks at him. She just looks at him. Five seconds have already passed. Yoongi should be laughing in her face right now. But the man did not, and takes a step back away from her. He fixes his satchel on his shoulder and closes the Creatives’ glass door behind him shut. When Yoongi looks back at Y/N, he gives her a shrug, “Hey, if you’re not going home, I am.” He heads for the main door, hands dug into his pockets. Y/N’s eyes just follow his figure. Before Yoongi completely gets out of the office, he hollers, a hand cupping over his mouth, “I said I’m already in in your plan. You can go now. See you tomorrow.” He sends Y/N one last smile.

It takes Y/N five more seconds before she breaks her frozen stance. What did just happen? Yoongi didn’t laugh at her. He didn’t put up a fight. He….agreed? Just like that? This is impossible. This cannot happen! Yoongi doesn’t agree, he argues! Always! And he just doesn’t bid her goodbye and “see you tomorrow.” Yoongi annoys her with one last hit of “goodbye, grandma.” And Yoongi doesn’t smile. He smirks. He just pulls up one side of his lips, squints his eyes, and snorts. Y/N must be going crazy. This is not Yoongi! A whole different man has suddenly appeared before her. This cannot be!

But despite all the things going back and forth in her head right now, there’s only one looming thought on top of them all that had Y/N release a staggered breath:

What the fuck did she just get herself into?

next | series masterlist

Disclaimer: This first chapter is based on Netflix’s Set It Up (2018), particularly Nancy’s briefing scene and the USB scene. Netflix’s Set It Up (2018) is the inspiration for this fic and so I based Ms. Nancy’s personality on Lucy Liu’s portrayal of Kirsten Stevens! Ms. Lucy Liu was fantastic in her performance! That being said, all scenes and references from the movie used in this story are the property of its respective owners. The rest belongs to the author. This work is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. Anyways, if you wish to watch the movie, don’t worry about encountering any spoilers in this fic!

A/N pt. 2: Hi hons! I decided to cut this fic into parts as this will be very long (hello banter dialogues). Writing a 25+k wordcount (so far, this is my assumed final wordcount) may overwhelm a lot of readers and make them not want to read this anymore ☹ Anyway, the succeeding parts will be released soon as I already have a detailed storyboard and outline for this mini-series so you don’t have to wait that long. Thank you for giving this fic a chance, hons. Also, feedback is more than appreciated. Tell me what you guys think! ♡♡♡ \(> u

Taglist: @fangirls94 @ditttiii @chogiyeol-utopia

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really-sleep-deprived-nerd · 4 years

Text

Behind The Scenes

Summary: What were Virgil and Remus doing during Putting Others First? (Featuring: Remus being surprisingly soft, Logan worrying about his friends and Virgil being an anxious idiot!)

Word Count: 4109

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of gore/violence, just quite a lot of Remus being Remus, Virgil might be a bit ooc (I made him more reasonable than he probably will ever be in canon)

Pairings: Analogical (If you squint) with Remus pining after both of them

Remus usually didn't like to venture out of his room and into the commons, since doing that usually ended with a lot of screaming from Virgil or Patton and with Roman trying to gouge his eyes out with his katana. (And that, while fun at the beginning, grew tiresome after a while)

His room was much more interesting anyways.

But filming days were always the exception to the rule, since the other sides were all in their rooms waiting to either be summoned or butt in (Ha. Butt) when they deemed it necessary, the commons were left empty, and that meant he had free reign to go into the common’s kitchen and stuff his face with Patton’s homemade chocolate chip cookies to his heart’s content without anyone to screech in fright the moment they caught sight of him.

He left his room happily, quietly humming a song from Beetlejuice, but stopping dead in his tracks the moment he reached the commons and was greeted with the sight of the anxious side curled up on the floor beside the couch.

Under normal circumstances, this is the moment where he would leave. Turn around before he was spotted and try again later, but a closer inspection told him that Virgil was shaking and, if his irregular breathing was anything to go by, probably crying.

Now, while he didnt care about Virgil anymore on account of the anxious side abandoning them and the fact that apparently whatever friendship they once may have had had been a lie on the anxious side part, in all the years of knowing him, Remus had never seen Virgil look quite so…

Pitiful? Broken?

Small. He settled for small. He had never seen Virgil look so small before.

But he should leave. Surely his presence would only make whatever this was worse and-

Virgil’s breath hitched and now Remus could clearly make out the sound of him sobbing and god fucking damn it.

He wanted to help Virgil.

“Virgil? Are you uh, okay there?” Remus asked nervously and ,upon hearing his voice, Virgil startled and proceeded to cry louder.

Fuck, Remus wasn't equipped for this.

“Should I, erg, go fetch Patton or something?” Remus asked, making a vague gesture with his hand that he was sure Virgil couldn't see. Now, that question did get a reaction out of him.

“NO!” Virgil yelled in that particularly demonic voice of his while snapping his head up to look at him. Huh. Interesting, the mere mention of Patton had Virgil’s eyes widening in panic and fear, his breath quickening and his shaking worsening.

Now, Remus didn’t have the time to unpack all of that so he decided to just throw away the whole suitcase and try a different approach.

“Okay. No Patton. Got it.” He said, nodding to himself and he saw Virgil relax just the tiniest bit, still looking at him warily with tears still falling freely, his cheeks stained black from his ruined eyeshadow.

“What do you want, Remus?” Virgil asked, now in his normal voice, if a quite a lot more shakier than it should be.

“Well, originally, I wanted to steal some of Patton’s cookies. Now, however, I want to know what the fuck happened that left you-”He made a vague gesture that encompassed Virgil as a whole-“Like this.”

Virgil smiled ruefully and then simply said:

“Thomas knows.”

Oh fuck. Oh god fucking shit. He really, really wasn't equipped for this.

“What the fuck. You told him? Like, now?” He asked, trying very hard not to panic himself.

Virgil looked at him curiously while he tried to wipe his tears away.

“I thought you-Nevermind. No, I told him after you decided to introduce yourself to him.”

“That was a month ago.” He stated dumbly, the Why are you panicking now then? left unasked.

“Yeah. I think Thomas took it well enough. He didn’t seem to hate me. I think it's just taking a while to process.”

“Congratulations! What's the fucking issue then?” He asked, still not getting what the problem was

“Did you notice that he avoided me like the plague since I told him? And that today is the first time he summons any of us for any sort of serious discussion since then?”

“Yeah, and?”

“I think he wants to tell the others about me, to see what he should do.”

Oh shit. Fuck. Okay, no, he definitely wasn't equipped to deal with any of this bullshit. He was, quite literally, the least tactful side out of all of them and this conversation felt too much like trying to disable a ticking bomb that was about to explode at the minimal error. He didn't have enough brain cells to deal with this shit alone and-

Wait. Brain cells. Logan

Logan could help. He was the literal voice of reason and was smart enough to already know, or at the very least suspect, that Virgil had been once one of them, so telling him about this entire not-fun mess so he could help calm Virgil the fuck down wouldn't make things worse. Yeah, that seemed reasonable. He’d go get Logan.

Remus made a gesture and summoned a box of tissues (It was a little damaged on the exterior but the tissues were usable, thank fuck) and he threw it at Virgil’s lap, who looked at him like he had grown a second head, although that would probably have been less surprising.

“Okay. Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Remus informed Virgil as calmly as he could and then immediately broke into a dead sprint towards Logan’s room.

Upon arriving, he knocked on the door rather loudly and after the door opened he was greeted by a surprised, if mildly annoyed, logical side.

“Remus? May I inquire what you are doing here? Deceit has just severed my connection to the others and while I doubt he means harm I must get back to them before-”

“Virgil is having a mental breakdown in the commons.” Remus interrupted and Logan immediately shut up.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He thinks that Thomas is going to discuss with you three what to do about him now that Thomas knows he was one of us before.” He summarized. Logan blinked.

“Oh dear, Thomas knows? Nevermind that, you can inform him that that is not why we were summoned, Thomas was upset and confused after the wedding disaster and he wanted to talk to Roman and Patton about it. He has no reason to fear. Speaking of which, I should really get back to-”

“Absolutely not. You tell him that” Remus ordered while he grabbed Logan by the wrist and started walking to the commons.

“Let go of me! If he becomes aware that I knew he will- Remus! I am busy at the moment!” Logan argued while he fruitlessly tried to wiggle free out of Remus’ iron grip

“Nope. You are his friend. You are coming with me to deal with this and that is final.”

“Remus!”

The duke continued to drag Logan to the commons and once there, he shoved him into Virgil’s lap, who froze like a deer caught in headlights the moment he saw Logan.

“You two talk while I go make some tea.” He decided, remembering how Janus had nothing short of chugged an entire kettle of Chamomile after the whole courtroom fiasco to calm himself down, and deciding a cup of it might help Virgil now.

He went to the kitchen and decided to put some water to boil instead of summoning the cups, since A) He always had trouble summoning things that weren’t dirty, broken and/or cursed and B) He thought it might be better to give the other two some time and space so they could talk in peace. He watched them talk from beside the stove and while he couldn't hear what they were saying, he could see Virgil slumping in relief and then give Logan the tiniest of smiles.

As he watched quietly from afar how Logan tenderly helped wipe the ruined eyeshadow out of Virgil’s face while he seemed to say something that made the anxious side laugh softly, Remus couldn’t help the weird feeling that settled into his chest, a dull ache that left him feeling more alone than he had felt in a long while and left him yearning for something he couldn't quite name.

He shook his head, trying to physically get rid of those weird mushy sad feelings, and went to look for some cups and the teabag. He found them just as the kettle started to whistle, so he dropped the tea bag into the boiling water and while he waited for the tea to be ready he went to look for spoons and some sugar. Once he had them in hand he realized he didn't actually know how sweet did either of the other two like their tea so he decided to just take it to the living room and let the others decide for themselves.

He checked to see if the other two were still talking and ,upon seeing that they had moved from the floor to the couch and that Virgil was quietly curled up beside Logan, he had to squash that feeling again. He turned and balanced the cups and spoons into one hand while he held the sugar in the other while mindlessly grabbing the kettle with one of his tentacles. Just before stepping out of the kitchen he saw the cookie jar and on a whim decided to grab that too.

Logan looked up from the couch and blinked, looking at Remus a bit surprised and it was then that he realized that it was the first time any of the others saw him use his tentacles. Ah, well, it was Logan. He had seen him do weirder stuff.

“I made Chamomile, Deceit says it has calming properties or some shit.” He informed them while he placed the three cups and sugar jar into the coffee table.

“That was very thoughtful and kind of you, Remus.” Logan acknowledged.

Remus visibly brightened at the praise, one of his tentacles carefully pouring the tea into the cups while the other popped the cookie jar open and left it in the table without him needed to look at them.

“Gross. Why can’t you just use extra hands like a normal side?” Virgil asked looking disgusted by the entire thing.

“Simple: Aesthetic” Remus replied with a smile.

“I still hate them with a passion” Virgil said while gesturing to the tentacles with his spoon “But I can respect that.” He conceded.

“Ah, excuse me, but before I can settle down to uh, chill?” Logan paused while looking at Virgil ,who just nodded, before he continued “I must go back to check on the others and make sure they dont require my assistance anymore.”

Logan got up from the sofa and sank out, leaving Remus and Virgil alone.

Remus sat as far away from Virgil as the couch would allow while silently taking sips of his tea and eating cookies, trying to force himself to shut up as to not break the frail and unspoken truce that hung in the air between him and the emo. Oddly enough, in the end, it was Virgil who broke the silence.

“Why did you do it?” Virgil asked Remus without lifting his gaze from his teacup.

“I already told you, Janus says it has some sort of-”

“No! Not the tea, you idiot!” Virgil interrupted Remus, trying his best to suppress a smile. “Why did you...help me?” He asked, now looking at the duke, his expression and his voice guarded.

“You know there is no rime or reason to what I do, I just do.”

“Remus. Please.”

“I-Listen.” Remus took a deep sigh. “I know you hate my guts and that our relationship was never quite the best, but-”

“Understatement of the century.”

“But!” He continued, “Before you left I…”

Remus paused and then, hesitantly, he said “Even if I have never been able to express it as effusively or clearly like, say, Patton might, I thought of you as a friend.” A pause. Then, more quietly, as he took another sip of tea. “A dear one at that.”

Virgil’s glare immediately softened.

“Remus, I-” Virgil started but was interrupted by Logan popping back up.

The logical side took one deep breath and then proceeded to grab his cup from the table and take a big gulp with the expression of a man who probably wished it’s contents were something a lot more stronger than tea. Remus could relate.

They watched in silent bewilderment as the usually very composed side carelessly left his cup in the table before letting himself fall onto the couch between Remus and Virgil. Logan sighed again and rubbed at his eyes behind his glasses in a blatant act of frustration.

“It is the furthest thing from my intention to come off as dramatic, but I swear if Roman and Patton do not calm down soon and start to actually listen to others then I will be forced to commit arson.”

“Neat! I’ll gladly help you set things on fire, Logan”

“No one its setting anything on fire, Remus.” Virgil interjected “What happened?”

“Deceit and I made some, I would say, valid arguments and gave a reasonably good advice on how to handle Thomas’ new emotional crisis and they proceeded to ignore it until the problem blew up in their faces it, but what else is new?”He said, his hands still covering his eyes behind his glasses. He paused for a second “Well, at least Patton seemed to have had seen sense when I left so I’d say its progress.”

“Uh, hold up, go back a little bit: You sided with Deceit on an argument?” Virgil asked looking at Logan like he had gone insane.

“We merely suggested that Thomas should actually put himself first for once in his life and stop neglecting his mental health so much, even if that means to be selfish from time to time” Logan explained as calmly as he could.

“How could you think that-” Virgil began before the other cut him off.

“I am not going to start arguing about this with you too, Virgil. If you wanted to give your opinions on this matter so desperately, you should have done your job and showed up.”Logan snapped.

Silence. Logan’s face looked like he regretted those words the moment they left his mouth and Virgil looked like he had been punched.

“Yikes.”Remus said eloquently. “Does anyone want a cookie?” He offered while shaking the cookie jar and that seemed to break the tension that hung in the air. Virgil bit back a laugh at the stupidity of the situation and Logan’s lip quirked upwards in the barest hint of a smile.

“You know what? Yeah, I want one, pass the jar, Duke” Virgil said.

“That is very kind of you, Remus, but I believe I will pass for the time being, thank you.” Logan politely declined.

“Suit yourself.” Remus replied while he threw Virgil the cookie jar, who catched it with minimal fumbling. “I don’t like to insert myself in conversations that clearly are none of my business but-”

“Since when?”

“Shut the fuck up. As I was saying, but before coming here I saw Deceit before he left to join the discussion and he said he was, and I am quoting, going to get this bitch some self-care if it is the last thing he does, so I personally think that the chances of this being a super evil secret plot to ruin Thomas’ life are rather low, emo” He explained.

“Ah, while that is a crude way to put it, it still summarizes our intentions: We just wanted to, uh, get this bitch some self-care.” Logan said awkwardly.

“I-” Virgil sighed. “I don’t trust Deceit and I don’t think that he is honestly doing this out of the goodness of his heart, but I do trust you, Logan, so if you think that Thomas should take more care of himself, then I will not argue.” He said, resigned.

“That's…”Logan paused, looking a bit touched. “Very mature of you, Virgil. Thank you” He finished lamely.

“Besides, you were right, if I wanted to give my opinion on this I should have shown up.” Virgil shrugged.

Logan looked like he wanted to argue and probably apologize about saying that when Roman popped up, looking incredibly distressed. And, upon seeing Remus sitting on the couch with the others, his expression soured even more.

“How many times do I have to chase you out of the commons before you get it? Your kind is not allowed here.” Roman said while he summoned his sword. Virgil visibly cringed at Roman’s phrasing.

Remus was about to put his cup down, summon his morning star and knock a bitch out so he could finish his tea in peace, when Logan got up and put himself between them.

“It’s okay Roman, he is not up to any nefarious acts, we were merely having tea together.” Logan explained, moving his hands in a placating manner as if to gently coarse Roman into lowering his sword. The Prince’s grip around his katana tightened.

“Why would you even want to have tea with this-this evil and deranged-”Roman started but Virgil cut him off.

“Roman, that's enough. He saw me being very, uh, lets say, distressed about something and wanted to help, that's why he is here”

Something in Roman's eyes changed after he heard what his brother did.

He helped Virgil. Of course he did. Roman was laughing at someone’s name while his brother helped his friend calm down.

The prince’s expression quickly morphed from rage to an empty and defeated look that had no place in Roman’s face. He looked completely exhausted.

“I-Of course, of course you’d defend him. Of course I am the evil twin.” He sighed, visibly deflating. Remus looked at Roman confused. What the fuck was that about? Why was everyone so emotional today?

“Uh-what do you mean you are the evil twin? Roman?” Virgil asked, looking at the prince with clear worry written across his face.

Roman decided to ignore that question and just made his katana disappear before dragging his hands across his face and giving a long and tired sigh. He stared numbly at them for a minute before turning and walking towards the hallway. “I’m going to my room, please do not disturb me unless it is an emergency.” He stated, his voice shaking slightly.

“Wait, Roman!” Virgil stood up with the intention of following him to find out what happened but a tentacle grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back down.

“Leave him be, emo, I think he needs to be alone for a minute.” Remus stated, his tone laced with something dangerously close to concern. His own words made him pause for a second and then, more quietly: “I cannot believe I just said that. I am worried about my brother. What the fuck.”

“But-” Virgil started, struggling to get the tentacle off of him.

“I do have to agree with Remus, Virgil.” Logan interrupted, “Roman seemed way too upset, so going to try and talk to him now might be counterproductive. Being seen in such a vulnerable state when he doesn't want to could cause him to lash out without meaning to, which, if he does for some reason actually believe he has become “The evil twin”-no offence, Remus-”

“None taken.”

“-will only make him feel worse” Logan concluded.

Virgil looked like he wanted to argue but after a couple of seconds he just threw his hands up in surrender and frustration, “FINE! You win, I will wait. Now let go of my hoodie before your disgusting tentacles ruin it.”

Remus briefly considered to hold on tighter and maybe rub more tentacles on the emo’s hoodie just to piss Virgil off, but he ended up deciding against it: If he tried that the emo would probably go feral and try to tear his tentacles off of him on by one in bloody revenge and ,while that certainly could be fun, he was ,surprisingly, enjoying talking with these two and didn't want to end their little get together in such a gorey way (Not yet, anyways).

He let go.

Virgil glumpily swiped imaginary slime off his hoodie and grabbed a cookie, stuffing it in his mouth angrily. Remus looked at him amused, and he was about to start mocking the emo for throwing a fit like a little baby when Patton popped up.

The moral side looked tired, his entire being radiating an aura of bone-deep exhaustion, the type that was both physical and mental and left one completely drained, and yet, his face still had the ghost of a smile on it. His state might have been nothing compared to the wreck Roman had been when he popped up, but he clearly wasn't fine either.

When Patton’s eyes landed on Remus, still comfortably sitting on the sofa with Logan and Virgil, he stiffened up and blinked slowly, like he was unsure of what he was seeing.

“Um, hi everyone.” He greeted awkwardly. He paused for a second, still looking at Remus with clear confusion, “Uh, Remus, kiddo, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but, um, what are you doing, um, here?”

“Oh, don't worry! Nothing you could say to me would ever be able to offend me!” Remus waved Patton’s concern away gleefully, “I was just having a relaxing tea with these two dorks after Virgil’s mental breakdown!” Remus explained and the emo choked on his cookie.

“Virgil’s what now?” Patton asked as the remains off his smile fell and he grew serious.

“Nothing Pat, don’t worry, I’m fine, I promise” Virgil said, trying to stop the moral side’s fretting before it began. “I was a bit anxious about something and Logan and Remus helped me calm down.” He explained calmly.

“Oh, that's just a load of bullshit: He was this close to having a panic attack because he thought-” Remus started, and he wasn't ACTUALLY going to tell Patton the real reason Virgil freaked out, even if he thought that the moral side would do nothing but love and support the emo for “Growing” and “Changing his ways” and other disgusting stuff if he found out the truth, but Virgil interrupted him anyways.

“Remus, I swear to God, I will gouge your eyes out with a teaspoon if you don't shut up. Do not test me” Virgil hissed.

“Ooh, kinky~” He replied without missing a beat and beaming.

“Oh, you mother-”

“Patton, I promise Virgil is fine now and there is no need to worry about it anymore.” Logan interjected before the fight could escalate.

“Are you sure?” Patton asked, still looking troubled.

“Positive.” Logan said in a tone that screamed stop asking. Patton seemed to get the hint.

“Okay then…”Patton said, still unsure but deciding to back off for now. “Well, you kiddos have fun with your tea party, I have to go check on Roman, we had a little scuffle out there and he was very upset before sinking out.”

“Pardon me, Patton, but do you think that going to check on him right now is a good idea?” Logan asked, a tad concerned.

“What do you mean if I think it is a good idea? I will not leave him alone when he is upset!” Patton said, looking slightly offended at the suggestion.

“He means you look like shit.”

“Remus!” Virgil hissed.

“What?! He does! Even I can tell he is not fine! He can’t help anyone if he is about to have a breakdown himself!” Remus argued.

“I actually meant-” Logan started, but Patton’s sigh interrupted him.

“Yeah, I know, but after what happened in the video, I can’t help but worry about him.” Patton explained, tired.

The three sides that sat in the sofa looked at Patton surprised at his confession for a second and then at each other, seeming to come to a silent agreement.

“I did not meant that you shouldn’t check on Roman, Patton.” Logan started, his voice oddly soft. “I meant that I think it would benefit both of you to take a moment to breathe and calm down separately before starting what, I can only assume, will be an emotionally taxing discussion.”

Patton nodded, seemingly resigned. Remus summoned a mug, it’s green exterior was chipped in some areas and it’s handle was broken, but it was clean and could keep what you poured inside warm.

“Would you want some tea?” He offered cheerfully.

“Yeah, a warm drink would be nice right now, thank you” Patton said, the ghost of a smile back in his face and his eyes soft.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #ts remus #sympathetic remus #soft remus #logan sanders #ts logan #ts virgil #virgil sanders #patton sanders #ts patton #platonic intruxiety #analogical #hurt/comfort #fluff #I might make a part two where they react and deal with the whole Janus thing #like Remus reacts to finding out his only friend called him evil #Virgil reacts to Roman laughing at Janus' name etc #sanders sides fic

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tae-cup · 4 years

Text

When The Earth Met The Sea | Of Eternity and Euphoria (2)

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You had been playing this game with the god of the sea for far too long. He decided to finally put an end to it.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4.7k Words

A/N: Ideas are just-flowing. Let me know your thoughts, they help motivate me a lot!

Other:

Series Masterlist

Normal Masterlist

The god of the sea, with dark eyes like the depths of the ocean and luminescent skin like the fish below, met her when she was just a new god. A goddess meant to manage Earth long after the original god had worn himself out.

You were the newest addition to the collection of gods and goddesses. Everyday seemed to have a newcomer. It was bad enough that they need a welcome booth for where they all seemed to pop out of nowhere. The Earth was changing and so were the gods. When the god who brought the continents of the Earth together discovered that his apprentice, you, had accidentally triggered fault lines to break them apart, he was rightfully angry.

“I can’t believe this. A million years of work to be broken like this.” He had hissed at you. You smiled, still young and hopeful, open to change. That’s what the new gods held against the old gods. They were more open and adaptable. They broke tradition.

You met while you were busy arranging Iceland. You sat puzzled at your desk. It was glass with a large Earth in the middle. You could rotate it with a wave of your hand. For a long time most gods called you the insane ruler of Earth. The goddess that was always in her head. You spent most of your days alone, but you had your thoughts distracting you anyway.

There was a soft knock on your office doors. You looked up quickly, hesitating to open the door. Maybe you could pretend you weren’t here? You shoved Iceland towards the top of the globe hastily, telling yourself you’d move it soon enough.

“I know you’re in there.” A low voice announced. You knew that voice, everyone did. The god of the sea often complained to the other gods if they encroached on his territory. You had simply been waiting until he got around to you. After all, you were the reason for so much distress in the oceans with continents sliding everywhere.

“Come in.” You sighed, not wanting to deal with the annoyed god. Taehyung always looked calm on the surface, but he had a swirling vortex of emotions below. You just didn’t feel like being dragged under right now.

“Pardon my intrusion,” He started off, to which you held back rolling your eyes. “But there are important matters we need to discuss.”

“Ever the polite gentlemen.” You drawled. “Well, I suppose I have some time. Please, sit.” You gestured to the chairs at the other side of the desk. You then waved your hand, shooing away the globe.

“First of all,” He sat carefully, making sure not to wrinkle his suit. “I would like to request you slow down your innovations to the modern world. The continents are stirring up the sea floor and causing thousands of species to become endangered or extinct.” A muscle twitched in his jaw, giving away his frustration.

You simply smiled, clasping your fingers together at the other end of the desk. “Of course, I understand your anger. However, Mr. Kim, there will always be change. Perhaps you just need to adapt?” Your words held a fire that so contrasted your innocent look.

You may be considered innocent, lost in your own world, and fragile, but in reality you were anything but. You held a fire in your soul, a down to Earth nature, and you quipped back impeccably well. Taehyung had never met a goddess like you, much less a god. Usually gods and goddesses alike would bow to the whims of one of the oldest gods. He may have let the power get to him. He was taken aback.

“While that, uh,” He swallowed thickly, not sure how to string together the right words. “While that is true, water adapts easily, I can as well. The issue here is the rate at which change is happening. It’s too fast to adapt. I’m asking for your compassion in this to understand my concerns.”

“I’ll think on it.” You said vaguely. “I want to get the continents settled. After all, I have my own people to take care of.”

He dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement before standing. The tension in the air thickened.

“Well, then, I must be going. Thank you for your...consideration.” His voice was steel, but there was a hint of warmth. You couldn’t deny that you had enjoyed the snappy conversation.

“Good day.” You smiled as you watched him leave in a hurry. It would take more than good looks or witty dialogue to change your mind on things.

“Ah, Ms. Y/N.” A familiar voice reached your ears. Oh no. You slowly turned around, a forced smile on your face.

“Taehyung, how lovely to see you again.” You greeted, looking past him to view the other gods he had arrived with. “I didn’t expect you to actually come.” Your face didn’t give away any emotion, staying on a stagnant smile.

“Of course I would come, it’s your 1000th birthday.” His lips twitched into a smile.

“And I will have many more.” You shot back.

“The first millennia is always special. Soon enough you’ll be considered a proper goddess yourself.”

“I’m not considered a proper goddess already?” You quirked an eyebrow. He let out a loud laugh that would seem natural if you didn’t know him. He casually ruffled your hair.

“You’re new yet, don’t be in such a rush to grow old.” His voice had a touch of affection and you weren’t quite sure what to do with that information. He walked away to grab a drink and socialize with the other gods and goddesses at your party.

It wasn’t a grand party, in god terms. You had a large ballroom in your home, though you rarely held any parties. Humans were tiresome and always needed something from you. That reminded you of another encounter you had with the old sea god.

“What’s got you so agitated?” Taehyung leaned casually against the wall in your office. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him. That voice was iconic enough.

“These humans.” You muttered, running a hand through your hair. “They always want more. It seems Jin has created a very greedy species.”

“But Jin loves them nonetheless. He admires there tenacity.”

“They’re like weeds.”

The dark eyed god laughed genuinely. “You are correct, my darling goddess.”

You rolled your eyes. “First they thought the world was flat and now they’re begging for a better harvest as if I have nothing better to do.” You massaged your forehead, holding your head in your hands. You sunk miserably into your chair. “What makes it worse is that I don’t.” You practically threw your hands up in frustration. “Why couldn’t I have gotten assigned to the stars or moon?”

Taehyung’s gaze softened seeing you struggle so hard. He carefully approached you, looking around uncomfortably. What could he do? He lifted his hand and slowly patted your back. It was a mixture of being comforting and annoying.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. You’ll learn soon enough that you don’t have to do everything they want. Yes, they’ll worship you, but they love you even more if they experience what’s it’s like without your guidance. They’ll appreciate you more.” He said, his voice deep and soothing. You sighed, back moving up and down under his touch.

“You’re right, I guess.” When you looked up, you met his eyes. And it was like you were drowning. The orbs of his eyes weren’t obsidian at all, they were a deep, glittering blue. You felt like you were losing your grip, so you quickly pulled away. “Thank you, but I’m very busy.”

He simply nodded and made his way toward the door. “Try not to be so hard on yourself.”

Even now, your eyes trailed him around the room. You shook your head and decided to distract yourself with greeting the endless sea of new guests. The temperature of the room rose with the amount of bodies piling in. You hadn’t expected so many to show up. You weren’t much of a crowds person, again, you were known as the looney goddess up in her head all day.

“I hope we can get along well.” Seokjin smiled, placing a kiss on your hand. You smiled gently.

“I, too, hope we can work together. Though, your humans are troublesome creatures.”

He chuckled and moved to the side, making way for the last god you expected to see. The god of the underworld stood there, his presence seemingly dropping the room’s temperature in itself. He frowned, looking awfully out of place next to the bright colors of the night.

“Mr. Min, lovely to see you.” You smiled pleasantly. He waved you off, eyes lazily surveying the room.

“I just came to wish you well. I believe we’ll be in touch very shortly.” He whispered so only you could hear him. You froze. No god or goddess who was in charge of living things wanted to hear that they would be meeting the god of the dead any time soon.

“What do you mean? What do you know?” You murmured back, fighting the urge to run to your office and check on the troublesome humans. Jin had left them in your care after he was done perfecting them. He claimed they were the perfect inhabitants for your lonely continents.

“You’ll have to talk to Jungkook about it.” He shook his head, moving to the side. You realized you had been talking far too long and people were throwing you suspicious stares, especially Taehyung. You excused yourself from the long line and made your way to the bar. You practically stumbled into a seat, like you were already drunk. You must have looked physically paler than ever before because the bartender poured you a glass of something strong without question.

Jungkook was a new god, like you. He had been made when humans were made. A very select few gods knew his reason for being here. That included the big three (Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin), Jungkook, and Namjoon. The five of them didn’t seem very happy about him being there and they refused to tell you his reason for inhabiting this world. Taehyung would just shake his head, a soft look on his face, and say that he prayed you never found out.

“What happened?” Taehyung slid into a seat next to you.

“Tell me, Tae.” You turned to him, hand tightly gripping the glass. “What is Jungkook’s purpose here?” Your jaw clenched.

“Why do you need to know?” He looked bewildered.

“It pertains to the safety of my inhabitants.” You hissed.

“You really shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Why did Yoongi claim I would be meeting with not only him, but also Jungkook, very soon?”

Taehyung’s gaze searched your face. He had a distant look on his face. Then he brushed his hands through his hair. He forced a kind smile onto his face, but his eyes were cold.

“War. Y/N. War. He’s the god of war.”

You rushed out of your room to empty the contents of your stomach out once more. You truly were the most human of all the gods and goddesses. You took on a certain amount of pain your little humans possessed, but this was getting ridiculous. How many times can a god throw up on an empty stomach?

You were not well, everyone knew this. When you could stand, other gods sent you sympathetic looks. Your little humans. Your dreaded companions that plagued themselves with hatred for each other for centuries.

You gasped for air, flushing the toilet. Your eyes closed, trying to hold onto your stomach. You couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep. You had to constantly survey the Earth to make sure they didn’t completely destroy it with any of their fancy new weapons. You fell to the floor, feeling like you’d just been punched in the gut. Gods, what had they done to your beautiful creation this time?

You stumbled down the halls and towards your office, feeling more dizzy by the minute. Then you saw it, the news reports that flashed onto your screen, the carnage.

“No.” Your voice was so quiet in disbelief. Then it rose. “No! No! No!” You banged your fist against the table, your other hand clutching your stomach. You felt sick, sicker than before, like you’d been poisoned. All you could see were the words atomic bomb and Japan. You wanted to scream in pain and frustration. You had no lively energy, no color in your cheeks. Your eyes were hollow. Your hands shakily grabbed the table as you pulled yourself to a standing position. Quiet tears streaked down your cheeks.

“Jungkook.” You yelled hoarsely. “Jungkook!”

Finally, the young god appeared in a shimmering light, an astral projection to your office. Unlike you, he seemed to be glowing, basking in the violence. Now he radiated energy and pure rage.

“Please.” You choked, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please, stop this.” You cried out, voice breaking. He just tilted his head, seemingly reveling in your tears.

“Why? I’m thriving, Y/N.” He chuckled darkly.

“You’re killing me.” Your voice was flat, stating a simple truth. If the reason for a god’s existence disappeared, then the god would be forgotten as well. He smiled a little.

“Fine, but you can’t expect me to hold back next time.” He disappeared and you collapsed on the floor, unable to stand any longer.

Pain was all you felt, saw, heard, smelled. His sadistic smile forever burned in your vision.

“Y/N?” A concerned voice came through. You heard a tray drop and the hurried footsteps of someone. “Oh my gods, what happened?”

You didn’t have the energy to respond.

“See, this is why I told you not to get so invested in your little humans.” He murmured, the low voice giving you a sense of peace. Inside, Taehyung was furious. Seeing you laying there helpless broke something in him. And when he picked you up, you were so frail, all bones. Your immortality would not allow you to starve to death, but you could feel that pain.

“You idiot.” His voice didn’t wobble, though he felt like breaking down seeing you like this. Maybe he cared more about you than he should. Maybe he was the idiot for falling in love with you.

“I just-I just wanted to help.” You murmured softly against his shirt. He just clutched you tighter, laying you down onto the large bed.

“I know, love, I know.” He whispered, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead. He couldn’t handle seeing you in this feverish state. This is not what a god should look like.

Your ethereal light was faded significantly, now a dim glow.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to take care of me. You have the sea to handle.”

“I’d choose you over the sea any day.” He murmured, hoping you hadn’t heard, but you had. You just didn’t react, knowing he would feel awkward if you acknowledged it. Your heart beat quickly, and not because of the fever.

You tugged on his hand. “Stay.”

And he did.

“What’s the prophecy?” Taehyung tilted his head, looking at the pale god before him. Yoongi sighed and took a deep breath, ready to repeat the entire thing again. “No, no,” Taehyung held up a hand. “I’ve already heard that version. Just sum up the important points.”

“Alright.” The older god grumbled. It wasn’t unusual for Taehyung to talk brashly. “Basically, I’ll meet my soulmate and they will lead me down a path that will end in my demise.”

“Anything else that could lead to your demise?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow.

The seven men all sat rather uncomfortably around a table in the throne room. They all looked around, trying to avoid the topic. Finally, Jungkook banged his fist on the table.

“Can we all stop acting like idiots, we’re gods! Why can’t we utter his name? It’s pathetic!” He shouted. Namjoon shot him a glare and Taehyung eyed him warily. He still hadn’t forgiven the younger god for putting you through so much pain.

“Kronos is not a titan to be trifled with.” Namjoon muttered, barely making out the name.

“We all know he’s coming back, hell, even Y/N can feel the growing tension.” Jungkook continued his rant, though a little more subdued. It was true, you had been complaining of this tension in your chest for ages now.

“Don’t talk about her.” Taehyung crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat.

“What? You worried for your girlfriend?” Jungkook sneered. “You’ve grown soft for that insane goddess.”

His fists clenched under the table and Namjoon eyed him carefully.

“Alright, alright, settle down.” Namjoon glared harshly at the two gods. “Jin?”

“Yes?” The sky god straightened.

“Keep an eye on Kronos and Taehyung, please stay behind. I need to speak to you about something.”

Taehyung simply nodded as the others filed out of the room. Now alone, he sagged in his seat. “What do you want, Joon?”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Is that any way to speak to me? Now, I need you to watch Yoongi. I don’t...I don’t want his love to be the downfall of us.”

The sea god scoffed at the other. “You really think Yoongi would fall in love with anyone?”

Namjoon’s eyes softened, looking Taehyung over. “I mean you fell in love, it’s not impossible.”

Taehyung gaped at Namjoon. “What-what? No!” He sputtered. The elder god gave him a knowing smile. “And what are you suggesting! I’m not that hard to love.” He mumbled the last part.

“Listen, you just need to take care of whoever it is.”

Taehyung’s face fell. “Take...care of?”

“Make it look like an accident.”

“I thought you didn’t believe that stuff?” Taehyung argued. The thought of destroying someone’s soulmate made his heart ache.

“Of course I believe the fates. I just didn’t want to worry Yoongi too much. Now, Tae, you’ve found your soulmate, yes?”

The dark haired god tilted his head. “Really?”

“Oh come on, Tae. You can’t be that stupid. It’s obviously Y/N.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. Taehyung swallowed.

“Why does this matter?”

“Well, I love you like a brother, but if you can’t follow through on this...” Namjoon looked into Taehyung’s eyes, a dangerous smile reaching his lips. “...I won’t hold off Jungkook next time.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “But, hyung, this is too cruel.” Argued the restless god.

“I have no issue with being cruel. I have an issue with Olympus falling to Kronos once more.”

“Do you know who it is?”

“Yes, a mortal.”

Taehyung froze, swallowing thickly. “A...mortal? Hyung this is too easy.”

“Mortals are easily curious and attracted to evil, you know this better than anyone...Y/N knows this better than anyone.”

“And yet she stays good on her word to Jin. She still defends them and helps them tirelessly.” Taehyung had even grown a soft spot, seeing how much you cared about those pitiful creatures.

“She’s a bit odd,” Namjoon watched a muscle in Taehyung’s jaw twitch at that. “But she will understand, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“She’ll hate me, hyung.”

“Thousands are lost to the sea every year.”

“But never on purpose!”

“She won’t hate you. Y/N is your soulmate, she’ll understand it’s for the better of all gods.”

Though the sea god doubted this, he still nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if I get kicked out of the house, I’m staying with you.”

You did not understand.

“Tae! You can’t just do this to an innocent person!” Once she had overheard the plan, she ran straight to Yoongi to warn him. “She’s eight. EIGHT!” You felt distraught, feeling sympathy for this poor child who was almost killed for no fault of her own.

“I can’t believe you went and told Yoongi.” Taehyung cried, slamming his hands on the desk. You flinched slightly, but that didn’t deter him. “I did what I had to! Don’t you understand that? Do you want to die? You’re part of the original gods who put Kronos down there. He won’t be kind to you.”

“That was the original god, not me.” You defended yourself. “I’m sorry I went to Yoongi, but I can’t do that to him. I know I would feel absolutely heartbroken if my soulmate died.”

Taehyung frowned, ignoring your statement. “Did you know?”

“Know? That you wanted to kill a child?”

“No,” He stepped around the desk and took your hands in his. “That we’re soulmates.”

Your face got visibly pale and you instantly dropped his hands. You tried to ignore the hurt that flashed across his face. “You’re mistaken.”

“Namjoon told me.”

“He could be wrong.”

“Would it really be so bad, to be soulmates with me? To live together, forever?” He peered into your eyes. You softened your facial features.

“I mean, no, I don’t know.” You sighed, tugging at your hair. “I just didn’t expect this.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

You stopped your worrying, glancing over his features. You searched for a sign of sarcasm, but you found none.

“I think I love you.” You suddenly said, your voice quiet. He resisted the urge to kiss you right there, the look on your face was so pure.

“You think?” He teased. He took a step forward and this time you didn’t move away. “I think I love you too.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing yours, teasing you almost. You leaned up, planting a soft kiss on his lips timidly. It was all over then. He grasped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You ran your hands through his hair. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth and you gladly let him in. Taehyung’s breath fanned over your face as he pulled away, leaning down to pepper kisses down your jawline and neck. You gasped, surprised at the neediness he displayed. His hands ran up and down your waist.

“You know I’ll protect you no matter what, right?” He said breathlessly. You nodded, shifting under him. “You drive me crazy, Y/N. You make me want to ruin you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, the centuries of being alone slowly fading away. It had been so long since you’d touched anyone intimately. You were sure you were that last virgin goddess in this town. You nudged him away softly.

“Not yet.” Your voice was firm but rang sweet.

He whined ever so slightly when he pulled away, taking in your flushed face.

“Gods, I’m so in love with you.” He declared.

You were speechless. You were so madly in love with him too. But how could you say it? It almost embarrassed you to be so open in your affections. So you simply nodded, pulling him into your lips once more.

You had long forgotten the little eight year old you and Yoongi had saved. Then she stumbled into the underworld, every god could feel the disturbance, no longer a little girl. She held herself with a lovely confidence. You couldn’t help watching her. After all, she was under your jurisdiction. You left your bed early in the morning, wiggling out from under Taehyung.

You watched him slowly shift, not noticing the lack of warmth. You smiled at his sleeping figure. He looked so peaceful, no sign of the whirlpool underneath. You had long been swept under, but you didn’t mind. He never overwhelmed you.

“Little human, what are you doing here?” You murmured to yourself, watching her wander through the halls. Then you remembered the meeting the gods had in a bit. You carefully flicked through the latest news, though you, of course, knew all of it first. You enjoyed the simple views of these papers, just trying to grab the attention of consumers.

“You’re up early.” Taehyung stood in the doorway, watching you with such love in his eyes, you just wanted to melt. You were still emotionally unstable since World War II, unable to think about war without wanting to break down again. Taehyung hated that he never stepped in. He hated that Jungkook allowed you to go through that. You felt like a ghost, often drifting off during conversation, but Taehyung was always gentle and patient with you. It seemed you were the only one he had patience for.

“Oh, yeah.” You scratched your head awkwardly. “Don’t you have a meeting to get to?”

“Yeah. Yoongi said it was important.”

“You didn’t kill the girl.”

“I know.”

“What will happen to you?”

I’m more worried about you. He thought to himself. “Nothing, love.” He opened his arms and you didn’t hesitate to hug him. “You don’t need to worry about me.” He murmured into your hair.

“Just don’t do anything stupid.” You mumbled.

“Of course.”

You patted his arm lovingly. “And try to give her a chance, okay? You intimidate most gods, what can you expect from a mortal?”

Taehyung chuckled, but he didn’t respond. You sighed and gave him a chaste kiss. “Be safe, love.”

Your face blanched, watching Taehyung get dressed. His hands shook.

“Where are you going?” You asked, voice small. He jumped, looking back to see you standing in the doorway. Taehyung fastened his necktie, swallowing.

“Namjoon wants me to finish the job.”

You froze, eyes widening. “What?”

“I know.” He groaned, hurriedly putting on his shoes. “but it should be easy since she’s traveling to the surface to pack up.” He went to move past you, but you planted yourself in the doorway.

“No.” You said firmly, crossing your arms. He looked at you, bewildered.

“I know you don’t like this, but at this point I have no choice. It’s you or her.”

“I’m a goddess, Taehyung. I’m not a fragile flower. I can handle pain. A mortal cannot!” You cried out. “If it’s me versus her, choose her.”

His gaze hardened and he stepped forward. He place his hands on your shoulders. “No.” Then he moved you aside like you were nothing.

“Kim Taehyung.” You were shaking, hatred pouring through you. “If you do not turn back around right now, I can promise you I will leave. I will leave and you won’t see me again.”

“I can’t believe this.” He whispered menacingly. He turned on his heel, facing you, pain in his eyes. But he knew the terror and pain you were displaying on your face would be engraved in his mind forever. “A human over yourself? You truly are the most selfless goddess I know.”

“They are my fish.” You gestured grandly. “If they die, I die. If the Earth dies because of them, then that’s my fault for loving them too much.”

“You always love people too much. Including me.” He took your hands in his, giving them a soft squeeze, all anger from before was gone. “But you’re lucky I’m absolutely, madly, in love with you.”

Then he turned around, leaving you frozen in place, heart beating wildly. “Taehyung!” You cried, dress flowing behind you as you chased after him. Too late. He was gone. “No, no, no.” You sank to the ground, holding your head in your hands. The pain you felt for that poor girl.

“Lift your head, Y/N.” His gentle voice called to you. And when you looked up, there stood Taehyung in all his glory. Not a hair out of place. You scrambled up, immediately backing away.

“That was fast.” You said bitterly.

“How long have you been sitting there?” His eyes met yours. You glanced away.

“Since you left.”

“That was hours ago.”

“So you did it?” You answered harshly, already feeling the tears ready to spill over.

“No.”

You looked up at him, eyes blinking back the tears in surprise. “No?”

“I couldn’t. Not to you. Not to her.”

A grin broke out onto your face.

“So you do have a heart after all, Mr. Kim Taehyung.”

He grimaced, “I didn’t like you using my name like that. I prefer you calling me Tae.”

You chuckled at his forlorn expression. You walked forward and embraced him. His arms enveloped you in warmth and you felt completely safe. Completely normal. Now you understood why humans went to war for such trivial things. Before you couldn’t understand why they hated each other, why they hurt each other, and by default, you. It’s because they love something else that’s worth fighting for. And as you sank into his embrace, you knew you would go to war for him, even if Kronos ate you like your ancestors, you wouldn’t regret it one bit.

#bts #bts x reader #tatawrites #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #of eternity and euphoria #fluff #angst #God!Taehyung #God!BTS #proof reading is not a thing here lol

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adrenaline-roulette · 5 years

Text

I say no

Pairing: Josh Washington x Reader Summary: This takes place in the aftermath of the events of Hannah and Beth’s disappearance, and before the return to the mountain. I’ve been listening to, I say no from the Heather’s musical on repeat lately, and have basically created a multi chapter fic to go with it. I’m not sure how many chapters this will be in total, but this first chapter is mostly being used as set up, and introducing our lead! Warnings: Language Word Count: 2.5K+

Chapter One

Being the new kid in school is never an easy thing, starting part way through the term though? That only makes things worse. You want to say that it isn’t your fault that you had to change schools, truly you do. But unfortunately, that would just be a lie. There was no one else you could blame, not really. It was your choices which had lead you to being expelled, no one had forced you to do what you did, this was all on you. Starting part way through the term meant you hadn’t been given the chance to select your own classes, and instead, had been thrown into anything that had a free space. Which was how you had ended up here, sitting in a computer lab surrounded by media students, with you not knowing the first thing about film production.

The class consisted of roughly thirty students, all of whom had broken off into either partners or small groups, gossiping about what they had gotten up to during their mid-winter break. You sat alone, scribbling todays date at the top of your notebook, as you absently swivelled in your chair. Straining your ears, you tried your best to pick up on what some of the surrounding people were talking about, though you were only able to pick up bits and pieces. “Washington sisters…” “-Police didn’t find any trace.” “Think Josh will come back?” “Hannah and Mike got cosy….”

None of the names being thrown around meant anything to you, but clearly whatever had occurred was the talk of the school. You felt almost left out, a part of you wishing you had been here at least a few months longer, that way you may at least know the people who were being discussed. “That’s enough, settle down everyone!” A female voice calls from the front of the classroom, causing silence to fall over the entire class. “Welcome back class, I hope you all enjoyed your winter break….” As the woman, who you now assume to be the teacher continues with her welcome, you take the chance to look her over. Dark brunette hair had been sculpted into a high bun atop her head, the hairs having been pulled so tightly away from her face, she almost appeared bald at first glance. A bright smear of fuchsia coated her lips, and you have to give her credit for that, it was a bold colour choice for a woman bordering on sixty… She wore a knee length, blue 1950’s style skirt with pale pink roses dotted around the edge, completing the look with a white turtle neck sweater. All in all it was an, interesting outfit to say the least. “Now, we have a new student starting with us today, Y/N Y/L/N please make yourself known to the class.”

Fuck, you knew this part was coming, but that didn’t make you dread it any less. Fighting back the groan which danced on the tip of your tongue, you pushed yourself up from your chair, raising your hand partially. “Hi.”

“Hello Y/N, I’m Mrs Hill. Welcome to our school.” Your teachers smile is all teeth, and you respond with a soft head nod, not wanting to be stood any longer than necessary. Mrs Hill returns to the board at the front of the classroom, marking the end of her greeting towards you. A breath slips out as you collapse back in your chair, causing a few sets of eyes to turn your way.

You’re perhaps ten minutes through class and had already zoned out, doodling tiny patterns in the margin of your page, when the door swings open and a young man enters, his bag slung over his shoulder, and a look of unease gracing his features. “Ah, Josh. Thank you for joining us, please take a seat.”

The man, Josh, looks about ready to argue with Mrs Hill, but quickly loses all fight when he catches sight of the blonde man sitting one seat away from you. The blonde was shaking his head no, while mouthing something to Josh. You couldn’t make out what he was saying, but whatever it was, it was enough to get Josh to stalk across the class and take his seat. You had chosen to sit at the back of the class in the corner, while the blonde man had sat nearby, leaving one seat free between you. Josh rolls the spare seat away from the desk, dumping his bag and flopping down ungracefully. He turns in his seat, looking over his shoulder at you, and lifting one brow, before his attention is drawn back to Mrs Hill.

*****

Two weeks down, and god knows how many to go. You had successfully done the bare minimum in all of your classes so far, much to your teachers’ disapproval. The only class which you put any effort into was media, surprisingly. Whether that was because you actually enjoyed the subject, or because Josh and the blonde man who sat next to him, Chris, were both willing to help you out, and include you in their groups, was still up for debate. “Hey, hey Y/N, wait up!” A familiar voice calls to you from the opposite end of the corridor, you turn to see Chris bounding down towards you, the man reminding you of an over excited Labrador.

“Hey, what’s up Chris?” You smile, zipping your bag closed, after swapping your books from your previous class out for the books needed for the next.

“I wanted to see if you had anything planned for lunch today?”

You regard him with raised brows, thinking back to what you had packed for your lunch. “Um, nothing special. Just the usual ham and cheese sandwich….”

“What? Oh, no that’s not what I meant! I wanted to see if you’d like to have lunch with me and Josh, and the rest of the gang? If you don’t have other plans that is?”

“Oh, um yeah? Yeah, that sounds really nice thanks.” You grin, before following Chris down the corridor, where he leads you into an empty classroom. “Right, is this the part where you murder me?” You chuckle, though you quickly stop as you notice a look of hurt flash through his eyes.

Chris drags his fingers through his already messy hair, an uneasy smile forming over his lips. “Haha, no. Um this is one of the perks of being mates with the class president.” He shrugs, flicking the light switch on, and illuminating the room.

“The class president? That’s Mike yeah?” You ask, expecting Chris to answer, instead you’re met with an unfamiliar voice in response.

“At your service, and you are?” The man in question bows, extending a hand to you with a cocky grin.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You grin, fighting against the eyeroll which threatened to overcome you. It wouldn’t do to go rolling your eyes at the class president, that would be a great way to make him dislike you!

“So tell me Y/N, how is it you know who I am, yet I don’t know you?”

You shrug, resting your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. “The girl who showed me around on my first day pointed you out in the corridor. She said she would’ve introduced us, but didn’t want to interrupt your game of tonsil hockey.” Your lips quirk at the corner as you finish.

“This tour guide you had, was she about this tall, blonde hair, hazel eyes, and covered in paint splatters?” Chris laughs, his eyes now shining with mirth.

You nod, looking between the two men. “Sounds like something our Sammy would say. She’ll be along soon, and I’m sure Mike will want to have a couple of words with her about introducing him in such a way.”

As if on cue, the door swings open again, this time with Sam walking in, followed closely by Josh, then a blonde woman and brunette woman you didn’t recognise. “Y/N, hey it’s great to see you again!” Sam waves, as Josh makes his way over to you, leaning against a desk near you.

“You remember my name?” You blink in surprise at Sam, who simply grins in reply.

“Of course I remember your name, we don’t get many new students here.”

“Don’t bullshit Sam, we get plenty of new students here.” The brunette smirks, flipping her hair behind her ear as she sidles up to Mike.

The second blonde giggles, a tinkling sound which you imagine would get tiresome rather quickly. “It’s just not everyday we get a new student who burnt down their last school’s science labs….”

You bite your bottom lip, a frown creasing your features as you cast your gaze towards the ground. Slowly, you nod your head, blinking away the stinging tears which clawed at your eyes. “Right, thanks for that. This has been great guys, but I’ve got my own personal demons who can talk to me like this, I don’t think I need to hear it twice.” You mutter, pushing away from the desk and starting across the room.

“That’s great Jess, really, just perfect.” You hear Josh growl, and you notice the blonde shrink away under his harsh glare.

“Em, that wasn’t fair. And Jess, pull your fucking head in.” Chris grumbles.

You move towards the door pushing your way through, paying no attention to the two people you barge past who had been trying to enter the room. “Everything alright-” You don’t stick around to hear the rest of what the new voice had to say. You didn’t need this, all you had to do was get through the rest of this year, and then next year and finally you would be finished with school. Fuck friends, who even needs them anyways?

You storm into the bathroom, slamming the stall door closed behind you, and making sure to lock it, before sitting down on the toilet lid, doubling over and resting your forearms over your knees, then pressing your forehead against them. After a few minutes there’s a faint knock on the bathroom door, which you find odd, it was a public bathroom, why would anybody bother knocking? “Y/N, its me… Can I come in?” That was Sam, you would recognise her voice anywhere. You’re half tempted to tell her to bugger off, but she hadn’t done anything wrong, if anything she had been trying to keep the peace.

“Yeah.” You call back, the only response being that of the bathroom door creaking open. You can hear male voices just outside, but you pay them little mind, putting it down to students passing by as Sam entered.

The silence which fills the tiled room is tangible, and a part of you almost thinks Sam had never even bothered to come inside. “I’m sorry about Jess and Emily. They’re, well I don’t even know how to describe them really. Neither of them have a filter though, I guess that’s a start… They’re dealing with something at the moment, we all kinda are, but they don’t seem to know how to vice those feelings…. I don’t know if anything that I’m saying is making any sense. But just know that I’m sorry.”

You watch Sam’s feet pace back and forth in front of the stall door, occasionally pausing as if she were about to settle, then picking up their walk once again. Leaning forward, you unlock the door, allowing it to swing inwards. “I did it.”

Sam pauses, locking eyes with you and tilting her head to the side. “Did what?”

“I burnt down the science labs. Nearly got a teacher killed in the process….”

Sam nods, averting her eyes for a few seconds. “Yeah, I know. I was told before taking you around school, the admin staff wanted me to know that apparently you could be, how they said, unstable…”

Your head perks up at this, and you wipe away one of the few tears which had slipped free. “They said I was unstable?”

Sam nods once again, though this time remains silent. “I’m not though! It was something that happened, but I’m getting the help I need!”

“Hey, it’s okay! I never thought you were!” Sam moves into the stall, resting a hand over your shoulder rubbing her thumb in gentle circles there. “During winter break, we did something terrible… At least, I think we did. If anyone found out what we did, they would call me unstable too.”

“Wh-What did you do?” You stammer out, blinking up at the smiling woman. She looked far to innocent to have done anything worth being labelled unstable over.

Sam shakes her head no, the smile falling for a moment. “Not now, I’ll tell you some other time. For now, lets get you cleaned up, and ready for class.”

You take her outstretched hand, and feel yourself be pulled into a standing position, allowing Sam to lead you over to the sinks, where she wets some paper towel, and dabs it under your eyes, clearing them of your smudged makeup. “There we go, good as new!” She grins, balling up the paper and throwing it into the bin. “Ready to head back out?”

“No, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” You shrug, following Sam to the door, her hand resting on the handle.

“I’ll talk to Jess and Emily, see if I can get them to apologise…”

“No, I don’t want a forced apology. I’d be happy with them to just not bring my past up again.”

“Easy done.” Sam pulls the door open, and you both march back into the world of school life, the corridors were beginning to fill with students once more, and you could only assume classes would be starting shortly. Chris and Josh had made themselves comfortable on the ground, backs pressed up against the wall as the spoke animatedly about something.

Josh is the first to see the both of and leaps to his feet, grinning mostly at you. “Hey, sorry about the girls back there… They can be a bit bitchy sometimes.” He gestures over his shoulder with his thumb, back to the classroom you had all left.

“It’s fine, I know how girls can be sometimes.” You shrug, turning to smile softly at Sam, before returning you attention to Josh.

Sam watches Chris from the corner of her eye as he struggles to stand up, rolling her eyes as it takes him three attempts. “Come on you big oaf, we’ve gotta get to History.” She grins, taking a few steps backwards down the corridor.

Chris seems reluctant to leave, but does so anyways, passing you one final smile before leaving with Sam. “Right, class. That’s a thing isn’t it?”

Josh smirks, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and leading you through the mass of students. “Mhm, it is a thing. But no one said it was a mandatory thing…”

You turn your head to look up at Josh, who had his eyes locked dead a head, his sight set on the front doors. “Last I heard, school in fact was mandatory.”

“I’ve been given special privileges due to, external circumstances. We’ll just say I needed you for support?”

“Fine, where are we going then Josh?”

MASTERLIST

If you want to be added to my taglist so you’re notified when the next chapters come up, just let me know!

Chapter Two out now!

#josh Washington x reader #josh washington fanfic #josh washington #rami malek/ josh washington #rami malek fanfiction #josh washington x y/n #until dawn #until dawn fanfiction #until dawn fanfic

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cherry3point14 · 4 years

Text

To Catch A Winchester.

Pairing: Demon!Reader x Evil. Dean x Pie. Warnings: Demon!Reader likes bad things. The first scene is, like, kind of evil. Killing people and such. Also complete demon crack. Word Count: 3,056. Prompt: This post. A/N: I don’t have a good excuse for this. I made this gif and loved it so much I wanted to write something and it’s terrible. But mainly I need y’all to tell me how much you love this gif I made because I have watched it a thousand times.

Ao3 if your prefer

You’re reminded of that old show Madeline.

With lightning slicing through the night—occasionally illuminating the pews as you wandered through the church—here you are with your very own version.

Twelve little nuns lined up in a row. Slit their throats and a seal will blow!

A holy river of blood from steeple to sanctuary. A fancy way of saying bathe a church in blood, holy blood at that. It was such a delectable prospect you’d practically begged for the opportunity.

They’re tied up in the pews and you take them one by one. Each nun only goes so far. A couple killed in the tower, the belfry, a few in the lantern. The only problem is there’s one that won’t stop talking. On and on about how you could be saved, it wasn’t too late. How God still loves you. After your third trip down the stairs for your next victim, you’d gone as far as landing a punch to her ancient jaw. The way her bones had cracked under your hand was lovely.

She’d looked like she’d almost died. Beautiful, knocked the wind right out of her until she catches her breath and tells you. “You catch more flies with honey.”

Coming from a super-nun aside you like that turn of phrase. You lock it away in the back of your head for a rainy day, it’ll come in handy you think.

Then finally you take Sister Mary-won’t-shut-up to the bottom of the spire, climbing out into the humid night. It had rained but it’s stopped. The wet surface of the building, with your crimson additions, makes for a very pretty, glossy sight. Reflective even in the darkness. Really does look like an entire river when actually it’s only twelve dead nuns.

Eleven, you suppose. You’re about to kill number twelve. A flick of your wrist and she whizzes to the top while you climb, a knife between your teeth and the inky black of your eyes saying more than the mouth of your meat suit ever could.

Demons can’t be saved. God doesn’t love me. Lucifer does.

You’re straddling the cross at the top of the church, because why the hell not, while you drain her now limp body. Thunder booms and another strike of lightning reveals the outcome of your efforts. You wish you could take a fucking picture. This is what most demons are missing, some goddamn artistic vision. This church covered in holy blood was your hellish Mona Lisa.

After the seal’s break and Lucifer rises you had arrogantly assumed that evil and shadow would finally rule the Earth. Couldn’t heaven give it up and accept defeat already?

Now, it’s a whole new ballgame. The Winchesters are to be meat suits. Lucifer actually wants to wear one of them. Even Michael the dickless could do better. Although it wasn’t your place to say that, ever, unless you wanted to become a sacrifice to the demon blood cause when the time comes. Which, you didn’t. Things were more fun top side. There are only so many hundreds of years you can torture people in hell before it becomes repetitive.

You’ve fought on Earth for the cause for decades now, and you have no intention of stopping. Everyone has their part to play. Unfortunately, a big part of yours was breaking seals. You were fucking great at breaking seals because it required one of your best skills; creativity. So, you’re turning that creativity to something else. Hunting down Michael’s sword. Hell’s most wanted.

Dean Winchester.

Which leads you to Canton. Although technically you’d started in Cleveland. You’d caught wind of that stupid car they drive and followed them. Dumbasses the pair of them.

Whatever. Not the point. Nobody needs these boys for their brains, it's what's in their blood. The point is you’re in Canton now, so are they. They’re trying to stop some people dying because, disgustingly, that’s what they do with their limited time left on Earth.

See, here’s where you’re taking a slightly different approach. Most of your fellow black-eyed friends would go in swinging, throw them against a wall like all the demons who have failed to take them down before. Sometimes demons are so... so… obvious.

Not you. In all the time you’ve been up here you’ve had time to be bored. There are only so many missions and murders to commit. Even sex has grown tiresome. Humans are weak and none of them like pain as much as they claim to. Pathetic. So, you’re creative and you’re bored, and that’s how you learned patience.

It’s not enough to catch them in a moment of weakness. Those moments don’t last. They’re downward blips with quick recoveries, the Winchesters have impressive rebound rates and a knack for getting out of trouble. You need to focus on their weaknesses, those two extra letters make a huge difference.

You needed to find out what would bring them down and stay down. Or Dean at least. Figure out Dean’s vulnerability. Because Sam has some sort of loathsome bond with his big brother, enough that he’s given up on demon blood—for the time being. It won’t be enough to hurt Dean, you’ve got to split them up.

Which is how you end up in a bar, playing with the plastic cocktail stirrer between your fingers. The old fashioned the bartender made you is passable at best, no one has made you a good once since prohibition. Across the room is Dean Winchester knocking back beers like they’re going out of style.

This was going to be a time-consuming project it seems, how much could you really learn watching him like this? Clearly he’s an alcoholic but that’s not something that's helpful.

After the fourth beer, after he’s patted his empty glass at the pretty little tap whore, is when it happens. He looks up. Not at you directly, just up. His nostrils flare and you’re convinced that he’s smelt you. They may be dumb humans but they know about demons. You don’t freeze in fear for your life or anything, you didn’t want to give up this meat suit is all, she’s pretty enough to get free drinks most places.

The spell breaks when his phone rings before he has a chance to scan the room and lock eyes with you. You take a long drag of your drink, enough to empty the glass before you use the opportunity to escape. He’s turned his back to answer and you’ve seen all you need to see for now.

It’s a good thing you’re so patient or you might have fucked that up.

There’s something powerful in Nebraska. You can taste the cackle of demon in the air as soon as you arrive a few hours after Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber. The only thing you can think is, whoever it is better not waste your time. The Winchesters are officially yours and nobody will be taking them from you. Nobody else knows that and actually, you aren’t all that focused on Sam. Sam is Lucifers and you aren’t stupid enough to come between that. But, Dean?

Dean, you were looking forward to getting your hands on. The man has been to hell already and when you caught him and took him back with a bow on…? Oh, you would so enjoy breaking him. Again.

Until that blessed day, you slink around after them. Being subtle in the way you plot and scheme. So, yes, whatever demon is in Nebraska needs to stay away from your side mission that has become your sole focus.

You were project managing this bitch and you weren’t looking to delegate.

Ignoring the powerful thing in Nebraska, the town is wonderfully insane. People scratching their own brains out or that guy who ended up with square eyes from watching TV too long. Even the stuff that isn’t life-threatening is so fun that you have to respect the game.

You had no idea that the thing you could feel was him. The antichrist. You were an idiot.

The demon trying to get him goes in guns blazing, obviously, and the kid destroys him. Absolutely casts him out. Not just out of that meat suit of a mother, out of existence. And you’re watching the whole thing from across the street like a creep. You’re about to go in because you need that kid. Lucifer needs that kid. More than you need Dean. Enough to blow your cover but before you can, he’s gone.

The power disappears from Nebraska like it’s been sucked off the face of the planet. As much as it is a shame you can't say you're upset. Now you get to carry on your game.

The hotel is the sort of place you’d love to burn to the ground. It would look fantastic lit up in yellow and orange.

When you first step foot in the place nothing makes sense. Not the hundred wannabe Winchesters or the fact that there are humans walking around pretending to be demons. You don’t like being confused. You were supposed to be getting somewhere and now it’s like being back at square one.

After your initial shock, you actually want to test this out so you sit there in your pretty new meat suit and flick your eyes onyx. Some idiot next to you has the audacity to lean over and compliment your Ruby costume.

As if you would be caught dead calling yourself Ruby. Your fingers itch to snap his neck for the fun of it and you almost do. You only resist because you picked up your new skin a few days ago and there isn’t anyone that you can see who would be a suitable replacement.

Everyone piles into the conference room for some sort of announcement, eventually, leaving you in the hotel bar to figure things out.

There are books. How did no-one in hell talk about this? Everyone is obsessed with finding those boys and nobody thought to do the research. That’s the problem with demons these days, new evil, it’s all so rushed. Sometimes a lighter touch is required.

You steal copies from a stand while everyone is cheering about something in the other room. This follow the Winchesters crap is making you soft because that act of defiance alone makes your meat suit tingle. You should be concerned about that. Except only doing a light skim of the pages, you have a veritable bullet-pointed list of ways to make Dean Winchester cry. So, you’re still getting somewhere.

Hours later you’re in the car you stole along with this body and you see a word in the books, so innocuous that it shouldn’t stand out to you. Pie.

You remember that nun then, must have been more than a year ago. You remember that sentence you tucked away for a rainy day. Maybe you’re weakened by remembering how good it felt to break a seal that night. Maybe that memory makes you weak for the words she’d said after you felt her jaw crack.

You catch more flies with honey.

Most humans would call it a beautiful Sunday morning. Sweet Lucifer, crap like that made you sick.

It’s the perfect cover though. Nothing bad happens on Sunday mornings.

They’ve been staying in this bumfuck nowhere town outside of Phoenix because they escaped from a mental hospital or something. The ‘or something’ is probably pretty relevant but you don't care, not really, not unless it helps you.

If their guards are down, sure, it’ll help you out, if not, that was fine too. You’ve got the perfect plan anyway.

You watch Dean leave the motel they’re in looking, surly? Doesn’t matter, the fact is he’s alone. His face is explained when he stops in a diner to get coffee. He's tired. You’d been following him on foot till now because it’s easier to keep you distance walking around town, he won’t be in town much longer though.

You’ve been setting this up for days, weeks actually, but in this town; days. The plan has been in motion for a while you'd only been waiting for them to settle down for a few and finally, they did.

The woman behind the counter of the diner is named Glenda. Glenda is the sweetest little old lady this side of creation. Or at least that’s what you’d told her the last time you went in. You’ve been speaking to her every day, laying the foundation, taking the time to become her friend. It would be exhausting if you ever got exhausted.

Glenda has been telling anyone in a 30-mile radius about the pie truck that’s pulled up on the old Applewood farm, run by a ‘sweet young thing’. You run the best traveling bakery in the country, your mama taught you everything you know. You’ve been supplying the diner all week.

And now she’s telling Dean.

“Oh yes,” you can see Glenda nodding enthusiastically through the large windows. “All the pie we’ve had all week came from that truck. Apparently, she has a big setup for today and then she’s moving on.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up.

Perfect.

You jump into the car you’re using this week and wait the three minutes it takes for him to come sauntering out like the cat that got the damn cream. This idiot thinks he’s getting pie. Well, there is pie. You couldn’t lure him without having the pie. There’s also a trap is all.

It’s nice to follow Dean out to the farm, it’s nice because you know it’ll be the last time you have to follow his stupid car. After today you were cashing out.

Hayley is standing at the pie stand. You couldn’t be there obviously. Dean wouldn’t want a side of sulfur with his cherry pie. Hayley is a local you hired when you came into town. She’s more than happy to do everything for you, for the amount you’re paying her. You blame this whole 'catching with honey' schtick because you’re actually paying her too. You’d need to kill a whole mess of children after this to get the nice off of you.

Or breaking Dean might get you back to your brilliant, evil self.

He pulls up and his crapmobile bounces on its suspension with the same excitement he jumps out of the car with. Yes, you would enjoy making him pay for the months you’ve spent on this project.

Dean is so pleased as fucking punch to get a pie he doesn’t even notice your car crawling along the dirt path and parking some ways behind him.

The key here is the sign that says Try Our Award Winning Cherry Pie. It is award-winning. The bakery the pie actually came from won a gold star or some shit. You didn’t pay attention to the ins and outs, only that the pie looked perfect. That’s what you need, him to want that pie.

He does. The son of a bitch sees it and he grins. Points at the sign. He’s practically giddy.

Hayley nods to the second table, there’s only one left. You hadn’t planned that part. She must have had some customers already this morning. Glenda and her big mouth.

He takes a step towards it and you get out of your car. Another step and you start walking. A third and you pick up your pace.

He takes that last step, plants one foot in front of the table, and reaches out for the pie. Unlucky for him you’re sprinting to catch up and with a flick of your wrist, the table jumps back. The pie is in his hands so that’s fine, that’s safe, but now there’s a little space in front of him. Everything happens quickly. His second foot tries to catch up with his first except there’s no floor beneath him. The cloth mat the table had been sitting on falls away, supported by nothing.

You can’t help the laugh that comes out of you when he growls, “what the fuck?” before disappearing.

Hayley screams, whether at the table moving or the trap her customer falls into, it’s delightful. Fuck you missed hearing someone scream. Bloodcurdling and scared, it's a whole meal for your ears.

“Run home Hayley. Tell anyone about this and I’ll find you and kill you. ‘Kay?” She nods, tears starting to roll over her cheeks. She runs, as fast as she can, in such a hurry to leave she forgets her bike. If you remember later you’ll kill her anyway because damn is it nice to be back.

You have a Winchester to deal with first though.

The hole is 15 foot. You figured that would be enough to capture the 6-foot ape without him getting away.

You stand at the edge of the hole and look down. You almost laugh at the sight. Dean is standing in the bottom of this pit, the mat beneath his feet and the pie still in his hands. He's scuffed a little but the pie is perfectly intact. Damn, if you had a heart you'd say he deserves the pie.

You don't laugh though. It's time to put on your game face which means hands on your thighs as you lean over and stare down at him all-black eyes and satisfied smiles.

"Hi, Dean. A little birdie told me you like pie and I had the most, delicious, idea. Whatdy'a think?"

He looks equal parts stoic and mad, which is adorable. "Since when did you bitches get into baking?"

"What else are we gonna use all that fire and brimstone for?"

"Alright. What's the big plan then?"

His eyes don't leave yours, his hands still holding the pie as if it will save him. Somehow what you're about to do feels as wicked as painting that church.

You wave your hand and he slams into the dirt wall of his captivity. The pie falls to the floor, top first, his boot lands smashes into it.

"We're going on a road trip. Don't worry you won't need that where you're going."

By 'that' you mean the pie and by 'where' you mean the trunk of your stolen car.

Once this was all over you were going to teach fucking seminars on catching Winchesters. Because nobody does it better.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewill-blog @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 @jesseswartzwelder Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @erins-culinary-service @bloodydaydreamer @iamabeautifulperson18

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annakie · 5 years

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An Annotated Mass Effect Playthrough, Part Seven

List of Posts: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Wherein we... talk to the crew. I didn’t quite make it off the ship.

Still, a lot of words.

Aka the nearly All-Gif update.

Didn’t get a chance to play ME at all this week, so I’m going to spend a few hours this weekend (double-checking to make sure screenshotting works :p) and have some real updates later.

So making it back to the ship from Therum, it’s time to talk to the crew. I maybe could have gone and talked to them after getting on the ship after the Citadel, but they don’t really have any unique lines then so, I usually wait til now to go chat.

First, let’s talk to Liara.

The thing that sucks about talking to Liara (or Kaidan, or Ashley, if you don’t want to romance them) is, you know, the accidental romance. Making “picking the Paragon-place choices = romance by default with NO WARNING” design was very Not Good. They fixed this in later games, well moreso in Dragon Age games than ME, (and Andromeda is done very well for this) but still. In ME3, the BackOff mod does a great job of making romance dialog more obvious and intentional.

Liara’s dialog choices I feel like are even LESS obviously flirting I feel like than Ash and Kaidan’s. Honestly with Liara’s most of the lines can be read and even said aloud as friendship then BOOM, all of a sudden she wants a threesome. I choose middle dialog options whenever possible with Liara just to avoid this. I’m not interested, never have been, don’t want Kaidan to think he has any competition. But seriously, it’s poor game design here that you literally have to be a jerk to a companion at some points to avoid having them think you want to bang. God, half of the reason I’d love a remaster would be to hopefully fix shit like this to avoid some of the pitfalls.

I hate that some people use this as a reason to dislike these characters more. And I’ll admit, in my early days as a ME fan, I held it against Liara, too, until I realized how dumb that is. I especially hate it when you get to the “confrontation scene” and people use Kaidan not wanting to be in a threesome as a reason to dislike him more? It’s not a bad thing to want to be monogamous? (And of course, it’s not a bad thing to NOT want to be, assuming everyone is open and OK about it.)

I just prefer to not get that scene at all now, and to avoid “leading anyone on” accidentally etc. My Shepard knows early on what she wants, and sticks with him all the way through.

I was going to talk more here about my feelings about Liara in general but uh, I guess I’ll do that later. This is already really long.

Here’s a great post about how to avoid romancing Kaidan while being rude as little as possible to him.

Well since he’s right outside the medbay anyway, let’s go talk to the LT.

Have I mentioned how much I hate the orange glow?

So anyway, I thought maybe I’d talk here a little bit about Why Kaidan?

I will point out here that I am mostly a hetero woman, so my choices in video game romances lean towards men first, though I’m also very cool with doing non-m/f romances in games, and often do on subsequent playthroughs of games I love, but that’s almost never gonna be my primary romance.

I’d already mentioned my love for Carth Onasi, one of the most hated companions in video games, If You’re A Guy.

By today’s standards, even the Carth romance isn’t that great. But at the time, it was the greatest romance I’d experienced in video games. There were a few others that were really good -- Valen Shadowbreath in Neverwinter Nights: Horde of the Underdark was the other really great one, but we also got nightmare fuel like Anomen in Baldur’s Gate (though that gets better with mods + the final BG expansion) or just under-written characters or romances like Casavir in NWN2 (who was much better with mods) or hell, either of your choices in KotOR2 imho. But I used to play KotOR over and over for many reasons, such as holy shit a Star Wars game(!!) and one where you can actually be a female main character AND has that great Bioware storytelling... but a big reason was Carth.

A funny thing about Carth Onasi... if you play a male main character, you have a very different experience with Carth than if you play a woman. And even I can agree that hoo boy Carth gets tiresome quick if you play a male, as a female you at least get to flirt and that calms him down and evens him out a lot. But the one time I tried playing as a male, I didn’t make it off Taris because.. yeouch I could actually see what the guys playing were so mad about.

But hey, that voice. Raphael Sbarge, I love that voice. So like I said early on in these posts, I immediately knew I was going to romance Kaidan the very second I confirmed he was romancable, before I even ran back into the ship and met anyone on the crew aside from Joker and Kaidan.

And... that only got confirmed more and more as I went through ME for the first time. The character is smart, and capable, and respected you, and never questioned your command, but made his feelings pretty clear along the way. He could be a little doofy but in an adorable way with some of the things he said, honestly there was almost never anything I didn’t love about this character.

I realized some time ago that I have a thing for the Paladin archetype personally.

This is Casavir, from Neverwinter Nights 2, and in NWN2, there are two romance options for women. An under-written Lawful Good Paladin in his late 30′s who is willing to buck his superiors to do what he thinks is right but also places you on a pedestal and holds back all his emotions. He’s a romance option. Or....

Bishop, a chaotic evil ranger who insults you a lot, threatens to rape an NPC under your protection, and ultimately betrays you.

Most people who played NWN2 seemed to prefer the CE Ranger. I loved the paladin so much I wrote fix-it fic that I never have gotten around to publishing anywhere to retcon his terrible dumb ending.

There’s a fan-made romance mod that helps with the romances in this game, though I dislike a lot of what they did, ultimately I always use it.

In Dragon Age?

Ah yeah, the Templar-Warden. Love him. He does have that “Oh I’m so young and experienced tee-hee” thing going on that isn’t my favorite, (at this point mostly because I’m actually in my mid-40′s so uh, I’m just Old) but otherwise, yeah, love Alistair.

Dragon Age 2, I mean I usually romance Anders but... I’m not real excited about either him or Fenris, or even either of the ladies, though I have done Isabella’s romance (as well as Fenris’) and enjoyed it. I’d probably romance Avaline (or Varric!), if she were an option. But yeah, Anders mostly because he IS trying to do what’s right, even if he... well. You know.

But Dragon Age Inquisition?

Give me that Blackwall-angst. That stoic guy trying to be a Warden who comes undone for you. You’d think I’d go for Cullen, but hey this game gave us two paladin archetypes, though one is merely pretending, he still atones and becomes what he was trying to be, one way or another, if you let him. I picked this paladin archtype first because I did not like Cullen based on interactions with him in DA1 & 2. I like him well enough in DA:I but Blackwall is my guy here.

Out of all the many, many companions in SWTOR, who’s my fave?

If Aric Jorgan isn’t a Paladin-type I don’t know who is, especially since any romanceable Jedi are uh, all your female padawans (don’t get me started) until Lana (also female) comes along.

Hell, in a very long-running 4e D&D game I played from around 2009 to 2014 where my character fell in love with our party leader’s son, married him and fought the final boss 4 months pregnant with our twins. That character’s husband... was a paladin. I mean look at this art my friend picked out for his character’s son:

I mean dang, who (of those who are attracted to men of this type) wouldn’t?

I always pick the Paladin. The guy who is gonna Do What’s Right no matter what it costs him, the guy who’s gonna be loyal, the guy who may bottle up his emotions or keep them under control all the time but ultimately does what it takes to get the girl... that’s my fave. And that’s Kaidan.

I will also say my second fave archetype is rogue-with-a-heart-of-gold, and that’s more of a Garrus or Varric (if only he were a choice!!! :( ) type.. aka my second choice in these games.

Well that was a lot more words on that subject than I meant to do, so I’m going to just say real quick here that what I love about this first conversation with Kaidan is that he’s already no dummy, he knows something is up, and warns you about it.

We’ll save talk about his backstory for another day.

Let’s head downstairs.

Yay for sped-up elevators! What used to take like 20 seconds now takes like, four.

URDNOT WREX.

This another place where Shepard starts out just sticking their foot in their mouths completely. I feel like this is something the game definitely has problems with here. Shepard should know a lot more about the Genophage, like they should have about say, Spectres, even if the player doesn’t. So basically every response you can give to Wrex about the genophage and what his people are going through sounds really insensitive. Comparing the relatively minor First Contact War with the entire galaxy more or less uniting to keep the Krogan from taking over after the Rachni war seems pretty dumb, and also like something Shepard should already know.

Loredumping on the Krogans a bunch with Wrex is necessary, but I think it could have been done better. Though I think there are a lot of questions about the Krogan and the Genophage that ultimately are important but go unanswered. I’m going to be honest, because generally I want my companions to be happy and ultimately I want the happiest ending I can get, I usually cure the genophage and leave Wrex in charge. But also I don’t think that ends up with the happiest ending for the galaxy. Everything about the genophage is terrible, how it works, how it was administered, what it’s done to the Krogan as a people, but let’s be honest, the galaxy will also be in huge trouble just from a resources perspective if each krogan woman can have hundreds (or even just dozens) of babies a year, who are gonna all live a thousand years. There’s got to be a compromise that, eventually, hopefully Wrex works out if he’s alive at the end of ME3 or the council figures out with Wreav or whoever.

It is kinda funny though that here, I basically met Wrex at C-Sec, told him I’d help him with Fist, sent him to my ship, and basically just kidnapped him to go help with the rest of the mission. He wanted to be here, right? I can only assume I’m paying him a lot.

Ashley!

I do love Ashley Williams.

I’m not going to turn this into a “Is Ashley Racist” thinkpiece. I’ve read a lot of both sides of this argument and no, I don’t think she is. Some pieces of her attitude do need to be kicked up a bit, for sure. She’s got about the same issues with aliens as most of the species of the galaxy have with each other, which sometimes isn’t great, but she’s far from supporting Terra Firma.

She’s smart, she’s funny, a hell of a shot, she’s being held back due to her family name. I would love for if someday a Wilshenko OT3 were possible. I’d do that in an instant. I despise the fact that you can only keep Kaidan forever if you lose Ashley forever, though I don’t see that changing even in a remaster. Please Bioware, for the super ultra remaster?

I know I need to do another run through the game with Ashley alive. I don’t remember too much of what happens in ME3 when she’s there.

I also love that her story is so much one of family. From her stories of her sisters, to the point that it’s her own grandfather’s legacy that’s holding her back. She’s so grounded, she reminds us that there are civilians out there we’re keeping safe, a whole world we rarely see, up in space and in the middle of so much military conflict.

GARRUS.

First of all, whew Garrus looks amazing in the lighting and with the textures with ALOT/MEUITM. Very handsome.

Interestingly, Garrus does not really loredump on the turians. We absorb a lot of what we find out about the turians more naturally. Garrus is more all about C-Sec and the general politics of the Council, of Spectres, of C-Sec. Gonna be honest, I expected C-sec to play into the game as a whole a lot more than it did based on Garrus’ talks about it. I mean it was always there, but Bailey ends up being the face of C-Sec

Garrus’ Law vs. I Do What I Want attitude is a nice way to do a non-goody-two-shoes companion story without having to go evil. I love that Garrus’ story kinda mirrors our own as players, how are we going to get things done? Shove a blaster in people’s faces, accept collateral damage, and do whatever it takes to get it done? OR play by the rules, compromise, and see if that fixes things.

The thing is though, Mass Effect actually is great at giving us the illusion of choice without making a huge difference in the end. Like I mentioned before... not bringing Garrus to ME1 makes little difference in how he acts in ME2 outside of a few lines of dialog. Lots of things are like that, like pick Ash or Kaidan on Virmire, and yes one is always gone, but 80% of the content is basically the same from there on out for either character.

There are games out now that do that choice better. Pathfinder: Kingmaker is one I can think of. Or Tyranny. Things you choose can alter the endings of those games drastically, locking entire paths out of the game.

I used to think that was what I wanted. Until I played Kingmaker and locked myself out of things I really wanted without realizing it. I stopped playing the game, sad that my LI dumped me and wouldn’t come back without reloading many, many hours worth of game. Despite enjoying the game overall, I still haven’t gone back. When I do play again, I’ll probably keep a lot of tabs open of walkthroughs and tips on how to keep things going how I want. Kind of defeating the purpose of the game.

Anyway, I got super off track again. The point is, Garrus is the companion that gives us the most Choice in who he is. Which is cool. He illustrates our Paragon vs Renegade dilemma. And it’s neat that it does make changes in some of the things he says in the future, but overall, his story doesn’t change much no matter what you do (Unless you, ya know, get him killed in ME2).

And therein lies a problem with Mass Effect, and video games as a whole. It’s neat to see the little changes, but it’s rare for anything to be an actual Big Change, because... that’s a loooot of work for a developer and how much more money is all that going to cost him.

At some point in the future I’ll point out how lucky we are for what we did get, though.

Heeeey it’s Chief Engineer Greg Adams! I wonder how many people don’t even know he has a first name? Anyway, thank you for your one short conversation in which you explain how the Normandy works (honestly, great job with explaining this, Bioware, even if the science is ???) and like three sentences on who you are. Wasted opportunity to give you an actual character. Glad you like Tali, though! See you in ME3.

TALI!

Okay, I will totally accept that Shepard doesn’t know much past the basics of quarian society. That makes a lot more sense than Shepards not knowing much about asari.

The quarians are so much more of an original creation I feel like than a lot of what we’ve seen in the galaxy so far. Krogan? Basically Klingons. Turians? Space Romans. Asari? Twilek/Space Elves but ALL Hot Ladies. Qarians feel like something new though.

I mean, I guess before they had to live in suits they were pretty normal, but their entire culture doesn’t feel like something we’ve seen everyplace before. I mean I’ve seen space (g-slur) but, eh not really.

And Tali herself is such a good character. I mean, she does suffer a little from being Very Important with her father being one of five admirals in a population of six million people but, I’ll allow it. Nobody else on the crew has Very Important Parents. I mean Garrus’ father is a little high up in the ranks but that’s a non-factor, Ash’s grandfather was but he’s dead and never seen, Wrex’s father is a chieftan but none of those is central to their current story or as big as this one. I mean, Spacer Shep’s own mother is a captain of a ship. Tali herself in-game isn’t that sexualized -- most of that was the fandom’s doing. She’s young but also confident and has her shit together.

She shoulda been a same-sex romance in ME2/3 though, damnit!

Joker. Is. Amazing. And uh, also shoulda been a romance option.

Hey first of all, how great was it that they put in disabled representation in this game. I have read a few posts on how it could have been better, and definitely agree, but it’s also been so important to have say, Geordi LaForge as chief engineer of the Enterprise and also Joker here, in space, being awesome on spaceships. And he really earns his the right to his bravado in calling himself the best pilot in the galaxy.

Also? Casting Seth Green was such a great choice. I couldn’t imagine Joker as anyone else. I mean this is Bioware so we expect, and definitely got, great voice acting (except for... ugh you know, we’ll get there in ME3) but honestly Seth Green was a particularly good choice. I don’t care that he’s covered with sixteen layers of plot armor, he deserves it.

He’s the companion that we don’t ever get to take in the squad. (I mean, except for that brief amazing moment in ME2)

I only wish in ME1 he had as much to say as in ME2/3. At least he gets cool snarky lines after all the major missions.

One last thing before we get off the ship for awhile, I love that the crew is actually comprised of both men AND women in ME1. With different hairstyles and faces, and even skin tones. It’s nice to see they didn’t just reuse the same guy over and over for the nameless NPCs.

Well, I guess they get names in ME2. :v

Anyway, I would like to point out, that there are seventeen nameless NPCs on the Normandy.

Then there’s Adams, Tali, Garrus, Wrex, Ashley, Kaidan, Chakwas, Liara, Pressley, and Joker.

That’s twenty-seven people and eight sleep pods. Let’s remove the aliens, who couldn’t fit in a sleep pod (Garrus and Wrex), twenty-five people. Are there people sleeping in the sleep pods now? There must be, right? Everyone can’t be awake when we’re on the ship just because we’re there? How does that math add up? Who is sleeping where, HOW DOES IT WORK!?

Well, that’s their problem. I got my own bed. Kaidan can share.

Also just... don’t get me started on how stupid this is. I mean it’s nice having a shop on the ship but... the justification is terrible. We all know it. He was counted as one of the 17 nameless, btw.

Okay well, I was going to get off the ship this update but this is already stupid long and honestly I don’t have too much more content to post so, I’m gonna go actually play this game!

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #garrus vakarian #urdnot wrex #liara t'soni #tali'zorah #ashley williams #jeff joker moreau #joker #annakie's mass effect stuff

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jootjootscrazyadventure · 5 years

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Love Potion

NSFW

It's been about 25 days on the journey to fight Dio. Truthfully, it's getting tiresome, one stand battle after another. Getting bored of sitting in this hotel, I decided to take a walk. The small town we're in is a little creepy. Not many people here, and the ones that are, don't seem too friendly.

I came across a little store and decided to check it out. I got a warm feeling when entering.the sweet smell of lilacs and rise fill the air. As I look around at the hand made necklaces, an older lady comes up to me.

"May I help you?"

She asks with a smile. I smile back and kindly decline , telling her I am just looking around. She nods and goes about her business. As I go leave, she speaks again.

"Do you believe in love, Miss?" I turn around in confusion. Again she asks, "Well, do you?" I nod and walk towards her.

"Why do you ask?" I reply. She guides me to a small room.

The room is filled with apothecary tables and bottles. She hands me a small glass bottle. I give her a weird look. She laughs.

"Put this in someone's drink, and they will fall in love with you."

"Riight. And how do I know you're not just selling me some cherry soda?" I retort.

She shrugged. "That depends on if you trust me or not. Given of course, you did just meet me. But I feel that you have a big heart full of love for someone you might not thinks loves you back."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "What's the catch?" I ask, bluntly.

"No catch, I just work for love, and $35."

I hand her the money and thank her before leaving. I made way. Back to the hotel. Entering the lobby, Mr. Joestar and the others are looking for me.

"Oh my god, where were you!?" He asks me. " I was just taking a walk. " I reply. "Well, don't do that again, or at least tell someone first!" He says back. I roll my eyes.

Later on, we head out to grab food. I take my chance and put the potion into Jotaro's drink. Hopefully this actually works. But do I really want his love forced? Either way, it's too late, it was already mixed together. We all sat together and ate, chatting and laughing. About an hour later, and we go back to our hotel rooms. I go to unlock my door, when I feel a hand wrap around my waist. I look up and it's Jotaro. I blush before I could talk.

"Yare Yare Daze" he says, opening my door and allowing himself into my room.

"Not to sound rude, but what are you doing?" I ask, closing my door.

He shrugs. "I don't know, just thought maybe you'd like some company. He said.

I smile. We've been stuck together on this trip for almost a month and we don't know much about each other. We stayed up for hours talking. Around 4.A.M I started to get really sleepy.

"I should probably go, you're tired." Jotaro said and made his was to the door.

"I mean, you could stay here tonight. I don't mind."

We climb into bed together . Feeling shy, I left some distance between us.

"Yare Yare Daze." Jotaro pulls me closer. I felt safe.

"Good night, JoJo." I heard a soft grunt before finally falling asleep.

I woke up to an empty bed. "Oh..It was just a dream." I say to what I thought was an empty room.

" What was just a dream? " I hear as Jotaro comes out of the bathroom. I look up.

"Oh, uh it was nothing." I finally get out of bed.

Jotaro comes up to me and cupped my face. "You're cute when you first wake up." And placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment.

I look up at him. His features are rough but his eyes look soft. I sigh.

"This isn't right."

" Why? "A small sound of hurt left his voice.

"JoJo, I want you to like me for me, because you want to." I say looking down.

"But I do."

"No, you don't. I put a love potion in drink at dinner. I don't want forced love. "

"Yare Yare Daze. Are you that dense? There's no such thing as a love potion. He said.

I sigh again and pulled out the empty bottle. Jotaro laughs."You are as dumb as you look. That's a bottle of soda."

" Excuse me? " I ask. He rolled his eyes and grabs a similar bottle from the mini fridge.

"I paid $35 for a bloody soda?! Damn old woman." I grunted. " Wait, so you do like me? " I asked.

"Stop being stupid for 5 minutes so I can love you." Jotaro said and kissed me.

My heart melted. I wrap my arms around his torso. Suddenly, my door pops open.

"Hey, have you seen Jotaro?" Mr. Joestar asked, pausing at the last vowel of JoJo's name.

Our heads shot up at the door, faces red.

"Ohh, my bad." Mr. Joestar said. He started to leave when a flash shocked up. He held up the Polaroid picture and smiled. "You'll thank me for this later." He said as he finally left.

" Yare Yare Daze. " Jotaro says his infamous catch phase, I blush.

"Now, where were we?"

Jotaro leans to kiss me again. We deepen the kiss this time. He runs his tongue along my bottom lip. I grant his access. As the kiss gets rougher, Jotaro lays me on the bed. His lips leave mine and goes for my neck. He finds a tender spot between my neck and shoulder blade. Soft moans leave my lips. Jotaro then grabs my breast roughly. My moans get louder. I feel the warmth of Jotaro 's crotch against my hip. I could tell he was as into it as I was. I started to slowly buck my hips into him, earning me a small moan from Jotaro. Suddenly, he gets up.

"I've had enough of this."

I feel embarrassed . I knew he wouldn't actually want me. But I noticed Jotaro taking off his coat, shirt, and shoes. Leaving him in just his hat and pants. He comes back to me with pleading eyes. He helps me with removing my clothes, leaving me in just my underwear.

Jotaro climbed on top of me. My heart was racing. Such a gorgeous man was above me. His strong hand reached down my underwear to play with my clit. He looked at me, damn near drooling. My breathing hitched. He yanked down my underwear and started to kiss my thighs and folds. Jotaro stopped, I whined. He began to pull down his pants and boxers. I felt the tip poke at my entrance a bit.

"Jotaro..please" I begged.

He granted my plea and shoved himself into me. A loud moan came from both of us. Without letting me get used to his length and girth, he moves in and out of me. I grip the sheets, holding in an even louder moan. Jotaro grabs a hand full of my hair and yanks me closer to his face to kiss me. I bucked my hips again to follow his pace. A moan leaves his mouth.

He let go of my hair and started to move faster. His arms fall next to either side of my head, deepening his thrusts, that quickly becomes sloppy. The sound of skin slapping together fills the room. Jotaro 's grunts became for frequent. With a few more thrusts, a warm feeling explodes into my core. I gasp at the sudden feeling. Jotaro pulls out.

"Sorry..I didn't mean to do that inside you." He said. I giggle slightly.

" It's okay. I'm glad I made you feel good. " I reply.

I started to get up when he stopped me.

"I want you to feel good too." Jotaro slides his body down and becomes eye level with my pussy. He begins to lick up and down all over. His main focus is on my clit. He starts to lick faster, adding two fingers into me. I can no longer hold in anymore moans. I feel a knot in my stomach form. I tighten my thighs' grip around Jotaro's head in anticipation. His fingers move faster, matching the pace of his tongue.

My legs began to shake. The knot in my stomach grew. Jotaro takes notice and moves even faster. My head starts spinning as I release. Jotaro holds me down and continues to eat me out. High pitched moans come out of me. A giggle also came out.

"Jotaro, stoooop." I say. He releases me and wipes his mouth on his shirt. Catching our breathes , he lays next to me. I roll over , resting my head on his bare chest. He covers us with the blanket.

"Wait, does this mean we 're together?" I asked. " Yare Yare " I says. He rolled his eyes. "I told you to stop being stupid so I can love you. Yes, we're together. " A smile forms on my face. JoJo's cheeks turn pink. A light smile forms on his face. He adjusts his hat and we lay in bed together for the rest of the morning.

\\Yoo, super sorry if that sucked. I warned ya I can't write. Thanks for reading anyway. //

#jotaro #part 3 jotaro #part 3 jojo #3taro #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo's bizarre adventure #jotaro kujo #jotaro x reader #fan fiction #fan fic writing #fanfic

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starryeyedkoo · 6 years

Text

What We Left Behind - Kim Namjoon

Genre: childhood friends!au, very minor angst, fluff

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Warnings: slightly mature implications?? it’s barely anything but i’ll list it anyway

Word Count: 8.2k

You can’t seem to admit to yourself that letting Namjoon go was the wrong choice. That is, until you were forced to have dinner with his family after you hadn’t spoken to him since senior year of high school. Maybe that was just what you needed to change your mind.

you can find my masterlist by using the link in my bio :)

You saw your father’s truck, stacked tall with your dorm furniture, came to a halt in the little rear view mirror as you stood stretching your legs and pushing the driver side door of your car closed. You stood in front of your childhood home, where you would be returning to for the duration of summer vacation from college. You took a moment to take in the surroundings. It felt like it had been ages since you’d seen your quiet little town last summer, and as much as you enjoyed college, frustrating and tiresome as it may be, you missed feeling at home like this. Your mother called you to help bring your boxes inside and snapped you out of your thoughts.

Your serene feeling was short-lived however when you saw a familiar black car turn into the driveway of the house next door you had unconsciously been avoiding acknowledging. As soon as you noticed the tall figure exiting from the passenger seat—he still must not have gotten his license, you note— you circle around to the back of the truck to avoid seeing him. As you struggled to pick up a particularly heavy box, you heard your mother call out, and you allowed a groan to escape your lips.

“Namjoon! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while!” she stopped in the middle of the driveway as you stayed where you were, watching her wait for a response from the boy in the driveway next door.

“Hello, Mrs. (L/N). Nice to see you again. I’m doing well, and you?” Only few would be able to see through the polite facade he was using in the moment and notice the tenseness in his voice. Unfortunately, you were one of them.

“I’m doing well, thank you.” There was a beat of silence and you swore you were going to combust from the second-hand embarrassment since you probably knew exactly what Namjoon would be thinking at the moment. Luckily, your mother continued quickly ended the conversation for the good of everyone, “Alright, well, I should continue helping unpack. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

You had just lifted the box once again as you heard the conversation coming to a close but dropped it with a loud clash as she finished her statement. Tomorrow? God, you hoped Namjoon had already gone inside by then. Your mother came rushing over to you with a concerned expression on her face. “(Y/N), are you alright?” she questions looking you up and down before crouching to take a look inside the box that had fallen to the ground. “I hope there was nothing that broke in there,” she mumbled to herself.

“It’s fine, mom. There was nothing important in there,” you spoke quickly enough for her to give you a questioning look. “What did you mean we’ll see him tomorrow?”

She gives a clueless look, but then she seems to understand what you were so frantically questioning about, “Ah, I forgot to tell you earlier. Mr. and Mrs. Kim invited us over for dinner tomorrow night. We haven’t seen each other in a while since you and Namjoon have been off to college, and we thought it would be nice for you guys to meet up again as well. We noticed that last summer you guys didn’t seem to hang out much like you used to.”

Because we didn’t want to see each other at all. You were frustrated, but you also knew you couldn’t blame her. You had never told her that the two of you had grown apart due to some external reasons, unfortunately, or that you completely stopped talking in senior year of high school. After all, how could you ever bring that up? That would only result in questions of why, when, how, and truthfully, you weren’t sure you knew the answer to all of those yourself.

You had finally emptied the truck and had all of your belongings moved into the house. You dropped down onto your bed and stared at the ceiling with a deep sigh, eyes focusing on the little glow-in-the-dark star stickers you had put up there when you were eight and had never bothered to take down.

Your eyes slowly drifted and scanned the room, and eventually, you found yourself looking to your window on the side of the house that faced Namjoon’s bedroom in his own house, which unfortunately had its own window placed almost exactly across from yours. You usually kept its curtains closed ever since you and Namjoon stopped talking, but someone must have opened them back up while you were away.

You had a flashlight pointed at Namjoon’s window as you looked at the little paper Namjoon had written out for you that he had graciously entitled ‘Morse Code for Dummies (Y/N).’ Being the little genius he was, he had the alphabet memorized within about ten minutes meanwhile you still couldn’t spell a word without the cheat sheet he made for you. Even at only nine years old, he was one of the smartest people you knew and you really admired him for that.

Since neither of you had your own cell phones and it was too late at night for your parents to let you stay out, even if it was just next door, this was often how you spent your nights. You would stay up late with your flashlights at your windows talking about anything and everything. Then in the morning, when you would see each other in person, you did the same thing. You two were inseparable.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring out the window across to his until you noticed a light turn on in his room. You quickly stood from your bed and closed your curtains once again. You weren’t even sure why you still tried so hard to hide from him anymore. You were both mature adults, surely you had no reason to be playing these childish games anymore. You kept your hold on the curtains and contemplated opening them back up in hopes of making yourself the bigger person, even though it didn’t seem he was actively avoiding you, but that fact could be ignored for your own sake of your view of your own maturity.

You were in your room finishing your Physics homework. Actually, finishing was definitely not the right word. You were struggling with your Physics homework because unfortunately science had never been your strong suit, but usually Namjoon was there to talk you through it and help you understand what your actual teacher couldn’t explain well enough. However, tonight, like many other nights in these recent times, he was occupied because of her. Because of Hyunjee. You hated to think of her that way, since she was most likely a very nice girl. Namjoon really liked her, and you trusted him and his judgement, but the only thought you had when you heard her name was that she was stealing your best friend from you. After all, he was always with her, and as you glanced to your window, you could see tonight was no exception.

You saw through Namjoon’s window that he was, in fact, with her. She had her arms wrapped around his neck and he had his hands on her waist. You suddenly felt a pang in your chest and you were sick to your stomach as she leaned her face closer to his, but then you forced yourself to look away. It all felt so wrong, seeing that through the window. Through you and Namjoon’s window. Through your window.

You kept your hands in place as you recalled that night, and slowly released the harsh grip you had on the curtain, deciding to leave it closed. No being the bigger person for today. As unreasonable as it may seem, you were still hurt.

Sleeping that night had not come easily, much to your dismay as an overworked and exhausted college student. The difficulty was no doubt due to your anxiety over dinner, which you were now readying yourself for. The day went by far too fast and it was already nearing time to go over, knock on the door, and be greeted by Mrs. Kim, pretending everything was just fine and you had not completely ruined your relationship with her son. You finished applying makeup and put on some jewelry to accessorize your outfit of a casual short dress and some sandals. You hoped it didn’t look like you were trying too hard because that was definitely not what you were doing. You definitely did not agonize for almost an hour over which you would wear of the many outfits you had tried on then discarded on the floor after deeming it unworthy, so much to the point until you had almost run out of options in your closet.

So maybe you did care, just a little. After all, this was the first time you would be seeing Namjoon properly since you two had stopped talking, and you were hoping to give off the impression that this dinner wasn’t even going to phase you, that you had matured.

“Come on, (Y/N). When are you going to grow up?” Namjoon questioned with what seemed almost like contempt in his voice. Your eyes widened in disbelief at his tone.

“Excuse me?”

He laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re actually mad at me for this. (Y/N), it’s a window!”

“It’s not just a window, Namjoon. That’s our window!” you retorted, raising your voice.

You began to realize that this argument you started may have been a bit childish, and probably unnecessary, but hurt clouds judgement, and you were feeling a lot of hurt right now.

“Okay, well what do you expect me to do? Do you just want me to stay out of my room forever?”

“No! I just think you should close the curtains when you have your girlfriend over!” you whined.

“Well, you have your own curtains. Why don’t you close them?” he interrogated.

“Because I shouldn’t have to!” you subconsciously stomped your foot. Heat traveled up to your cheeks as you realize that you really did look like a toddler throwing a tantrum at the moment.

However, there was a hint of fondness that could be found in his eyes as he tried to suppress a chuckle at your behavior. “Alright, fine,” he digressed. “I’ll keep my curtains closed when Hyunjee comes over.” You breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that the argument did not last as long as you were beginning to think it would. Unfortunately you tensed up once again when he pushed the subject into a territory you were hoping to stay far away from, questioning softly, “But, (Y/N), why do you care so much?”

You couldn’t say. You never could. If you did, things would fall apart even faster than they already were, and yes, you were most definitely aware that things were going downhill for the two of you. Slowly but surely. However, you wouldn’t dare ever tell him what you yourself were trying to deny: that you had feelings for your best friend of your whole life, and that was the reason why it hurt so much to see another girl with Namjoon, because you wished you could be in her place.

“(Y/N), are you ready to go?” your mother questioned from your doorway, watching questionably after you just escaped from your daze while staring blankly in the mirror.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you mumbled and followed her out the front door.

The walk from your front door to theirs was simultaneously the most excruciatingly long and most terrifyingly fast walk you had taken in your life. Your mother rang the doorbell and you stood quietly, shrinking behind your father as you could see Mrs. Kim through the window, coming to open the gates of hell. “Hello!” she exclaimed, welcoming the three of you into her home, a place you knew all too well for your own liking. “Dinner is almost prepared. Have a seat at the table,” she gestured towards the kitchen, even though there was no need to. This place had been your second home only a few years ago.

You sat at one of the seats at the table next to your father and waited quietly. You were suddenly surprised by Namjoon’s younger sister, Kyungmin. You would often greet her when you came over to visit Namjoon, but since you hadn’t seen her in a while nor did she make efforts to contact you, she most likely knew at least a little bit about what happened between you and her older brother. “(Y/N)! It’s been so long!” she bubbled, extending her arms, forcing you to plaster a smile on your face and stand to give her a hug. If she was aware, she gave no hint of it. She suddenly scoffed. “What is Namjoon doing?” she murmured to herself. “I’ll make sure he knows you’re here,” she informed you, making her way up the stairs to Namjoon’s room where he was most likely hiding away for the same reasons as you.

After a few minutes, Namjoon reluctantly descended the stairs behind his sister. There were two seats left at the table, one of which was directly across from you. Kyungmin hurriedly sat in the other seat and you couldn’t help but notice the twitch of her lips as she restrained a smirk from appearing on her face. Namjoon began to protest, but with his father and your parents present, decided instead to just quietly take a seat across from you. You still hadn’t met his eyes.

As dinner went on, the younger ones at the table respectfully listened to the parents converse, or at least that’s what you tried to make it look like. Inreality, it was just too tense to say a word to each other. You noticed Kyungmin had been looking between you and Namjoon practically the entire time, and once the conversation became quiet, she took her turn to speak. “So, (Y/N), how’s college?” she questioned innocently, prompting you to speak for the first time of the evening. You felt all eyes on you, waiting for a response, even the brown irises that sat across from you.

“It’s going well. I’m studying psychology right now, although I’m still not sure if I will major in that or something else. I’m a bit uncertain at the moment, but for now, I am happy with how things are going.” Your lips pulled into a small smile as you finished. There was a beat of silence until your parents began speaking on behalf of you, knowing that you personally had nothing else you wanted to say.

It wasn’t that you really had no other comments to make. After all, you had once treated the Kim’s as your second family, so you could speak fairly easily with them. It was the horrible burning stare you sensed from the other side of the table that you felt every time you made a move or said a word. Namjoon, ever-observant, analyzed and most likely criticized everything you did.

All night, Namjoon stayed silent, or only gave unnecessarily shortened answers when directly addressed, and for some reason it drove you insane not knowing exactly what was going on inside his mind at the moment. This thought especially bothered you when you had a feeling he could still read you like an open book while you were simply left clueless.

You grabbed the books you needed for your next few classes from your locker, which just so happened to be far too many that weighed far too much. You swore high school would be your demise in one way or another at some point. As you held your tower of books in your hands and struggled to push your locker door closed with your foot, you were met on the other side by Namjoon leaning against the neighboring locker. You let out a sound somewhere in between a gasp and a shout, nearly dropping your lead-like pile of books. “You scared me!” you reprimanded him, letting out a deep sigh to finally regain your composure despite your embarrassment from your outburst in front of those judgmental seniors walking by.

“Sorry about that, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “I thought it might be funny—which it was—and also I’ve been meaning to stop by and check up on you recently, anyways.”

You hummed in response. “And why is that?”

He pushed himself off of the locker he leaned on and readjusted the strap of his book bag on his shoulder. “I don’t know. Something’s been off with you recently.”

Maybe because it was almost the end of Wednesday and this was the first time he had spoken to you personally all week, which is absolutely absurd in both of your best friend standards. “I don’t know why you think that,” you brushed him off, but you were unable to keep yourself from looking away.

“Aha! See? You’re lying.” He waved a finger at you and continued on with his spiel. “Unfortunately for you, (Y/N), you can’t fool me. I know you too well. I know you like the back of my hand.” He waved his hand in front of your face for emphasis. “So, tell me. What is it?”

You chose to say nothing. Your problems as of now weren’t exactly something you could discuss with him, considering he was one of the root causes of them. “Ah,” he said when he came to a realization, snapping his fingers at his brilliant breakthrough. “You must be really stressed from school, right? Midterms are coming up, after all. If you need help studying for something, then just let me know.”

Although he couldn’t be more wrong, you were relieved that he wouldn’t linger on the subject any longer. You gave a half-hearted fake chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Yep, you got me. I haven’t stopped worrying about midterms.”

“See, (Y/N)? I’ll always know exactly what you’re thinking, no matter if you try to hide it or not,” he smiled smugly, putting his dimples on full display. His eyes travelled downward to where you were now uncomfortably shifting your books in your tired arms. “Oh,” his mouth forming an ‘o’ to imitate the sound, “do you want me to carry those for you?”

“No, you really don’t need—” Without even letting you answer, he slipped the books from your hands into his own hold. He looked back up to you with a warm smile and a quick nod, and told you to lead the way to your next class. This was the boy you missed: the boy who went out of his way for you, who, despite it sometimes being bothersome, worried incessantly about you, who simply made time for you. Now, he did all of that for someone else. He put someone else above you, and it hurt. A lot. And just as you thought you were finally accepting things for the way they were and moving on, he once again had you wrapped around his finger in a mere three minutes.

Quite abruptly, you stood and asked to be excused from the table to use the restroom. You needed some air. You definitely needed some space away from the harsh reality of the boy sitting before you. You left the dining room and went up the stairs, the walk through the house practically part of your muscle-memory.

The bathroom is the third door on the left, you thought to yourself. Even though you were well aware of this fact, you couldn’t stop your feet from coming to a halt in front of the second door on the left. Namjoon’s room. You weren’t looking to pry, of course, but your insatiable curiosity was peaked when you spotted a familiar photograph sitting on top of his desk through the small opening of his door. You bit your lip and looked down the hallway in apprehension knowing full well you shouldn’t do what you were about to do, but of course, you pushed open the door and crossed the threshold to get a closer look anyway.

Nostalgia overwhelmed your senses for a moment as you entered the familiar space. You scanned the walls to see posters of his favorite musicians still hung in their spots and numerous academic trophies and medals displayed across several shelves. On these same shelves, you noted his collection of albums had only continued to grow.

As you took a few steps closer to his desk, you could now clearly make out the two teenagers in the photo that lay on top of it. It was a picture of you and Namjoon standing together and smiling widely at your middle school graduation, his arm draped carelessly over your shoulder as you leaned your head on his. With that, you recalled the night after the ceremony.

You laid flat on your back on the floor of his bedroom and stared at the ceiling, eyebrows lacing together. Your summer had finally begun, but the only thought on your mind was the start of school again in a few months. This time, however, it was different. You were entering the world of high school, a place you had always feared. At least you would have Namjoon at your side through it all, and you knew that for a fact, but something still compelled you to ask him about it. “Namjoon,” you spoke softly. He hummed in acknowledgement before you continued. “Can you believe we’re going to be high school students soon?”

He quickly sat up from his sprawled out position on his bed with a look of pure excitement adorning his features. “I know! It’s about time, right?”

“You’re excited?” you questioned meekly, not understanding where in the world his enthusiasm could stem from.

“You’re not?”

You puffed out your cheeks in thought before slowly lifting yourself into a sitting position matching his. “Well, no,” you answered bluntly. “Aren’t you scared? Or at least worried?”

He slid from his place on the bed and rested his back against the post as he now sat level with you on his floor. “Maybe I should be, but I’m just not. After all, I know we have each other’s backs. We’ll always be there for each other, right?” he mused and let a reassuring grin spread across his face.

Contrasting to the hesitant nod you had given him when he asked you that all those years ago, you now shook your head, acknowledging the fact that just the opposite had happened. You two had left each other.

You carefully placed the picture back where you had found it as you noticed there was a shoe box full of pictures just like the one you had just seen. You carefully flipped through some of the pictures and you were reminded of so many vivid memories you had made no effort to keep in mind. The memories had just simply never gone away. As you were reminiscing over a picture of you and Namjoon dressed up as pirates one year for Halloween, you missed the creak of the floorboards just outside of Namjoon’s bedroom.

“What are you doing in here?” You were snapped out of your reflection at the boom of Namjoon’s unhappy voice. “Get out!” His lips were turned downward and his eyebrows laced together in anger. This was definitely not what you were expecting from the first actually spoken words between the two of you of the night.

You let the photograph slip from your fingers back onto the desk as you stared at him with wide eyes and opened your mouth to speak only to close it again. Both of you were at a standstill, but you eventually gained enough composure to form some words. “Namjoon, I—” You cut yourself off once again, however, since you truly did not know how to explain yourself to him. “I just... saw the pictures, and I guess I just wanted to get a closer look,” you reluctantly spoke.

He let out a deep and peeved sigh as he pushed his hair back from his face. “Why were these out?” you asked sheepishly, wondering if he really had been thinking about things of the past as much as you had in the last 24 hours, prompting him to reminisce with moments captured in a camera.

“It doesn’t matter,” he spoke quickly with frustration, shaking his head rapidly. “Please, just leave,” he yelled. Back in high school, you would never let him get away with shouting at you like that, even if you were best friends. Now that you’ve both grown, that fact has still not changed.

“Why are you being like this?” you snapped at him. “I’ve tried to be peaceful tonight, but you’re making it really hard to do that so far.” You crossed your arms over your chest and blamed him for the both of your behaviors tonight.

“Me? I haven’t done anything!” he spat in disbelief. Maybe he wasn’t completely wrong. Neither of you had done anything to each other all night, actually. “If anything, you’re the one that’s making everything hard considering that you’re the one that started everything back in high school.” Your understanding quickly turned into offense as he now turned the blame back to you.

“How was I the one to start everything?”

“You were the one that left! What happened to being there for each other? I was always there for you, but then you just decided I wasn’t worth your time anymore!” he exclaimed, revealing a plethora of hidden emotions while pointing an accusing finger at you.

“I left because you were with Hyunjee!” you confessed before you could even stop yourself. The room was left in complete silence, all noise from the others downstairs completely vanished along with your confidence. After you had both registered the words that you had just spoken, your faces morphed into that of surprise and confusion.

“What did me being with Hyunjee have to do with anything?” he questioned, voice considerably softer than it had been before. As soon as he says the words aloud, you finally realize that maybe all of this wasn’t his fault, at least not fully like you had always so ignorantly claimed to yourself. “(Y/N)?” he pushed his question once more out of curiosity. You really wished you hadn’t said what you did because now you weren’t sure how you would give him a proper answer without revealing the embarrassing truth that you had so hopelessly fallen for your best friend.

“It’s nothing,” you spewed quickly, unable to stop yourself from stuttering. You began to nervously wring your fingers as you felt his gaze still intently settled upon you. When he still said nothing to brush the topic aside, you finally cracked under the pressure and tried your best to give an explanation. “I just felt like she was stealing my best friend away from me, that’s all. You were always with her, and I didn’t want to be around while she was, so I just... stopped.”

Namjoon’s lips turned downwards. “Why would you do that? I said from the very beginning that I wouldn’t let her or anything else get between us.” Namjoon’s voice broke almost unnoticeably, but you had caught it and felt your heart sink a thousand miles a minute. “Did you not trust me?”

For the first time, you gained the courage to bring your eyes up to his where you immediately felt as if you were drowning within them. “Of course I trusted you!” you exclaimed hastily as you abruptly took a step forward, nearly tripping and falling flat on the desk chair. “It just hurt... to see you two together.”

You bit your lip in fearful anticipation as he slowly questioned, “Why?”

This was the moment the youthful version of yourself had always dreamed of. You would finally let your feelings be known to Namjoon. Except, this moment was not nearly as butterfly-inducing, spark-flying of a confession as you had envisioned. Instead, you were caught red-handed looking at his pictures in his bedroom, when all you ever wanted was to be each other’s.

“It hurt because I couldn’t be in her place,” you admitted weakly with a small shrug. You finally dragged your pupils from where they were focused on a loose thread of the old rug on his bedroom floor up to his deep, wonderful, and terrifying eyes. In that moment, with puzzlement etched across his entire face, you wanted sink into the floor, into the depths of the earth to never be seen again by him or anyone else. The same warm cocoa color of his eyes became dark and constricting as you began to panic, realizing the actual consequences of the words you had let leave your mouth. Your mouth opened and closed, silently and dumbly. Suddenly, your feet freed themselves from where they were glued to the ground and you hurriedly pushed past him, through his bedroom doorway.

You flew down the stairs, almost losing your footing just before reaching the final step. Already grabbing your coat and opening the front door, you gave a rushed and half-hearted goodbye to Namjoon’s parents and sister as you could hear Namjoon calling out for you and approaching from behind. Politeness be damned, you had to get out of there.

You slammed the door shut just before your old friend was able to reach you and you jogged through both of your yards to find sanctuary in your own home. You were almost positive that Namjoon had even tried to follow you outside, but you would never know; you didn’t even glance back to check. Instead, you immediately locked yourself in your bedroom, dreading the thought of getting scolded for your behavior towards the Kim’s, but even more so horrified at what you had just done and said in your old best friend’s bedroom.

The next morning, you had not even bothered to wake up at a reasonable time. Instead, you wanted to sleep for hours on end to hide away from the cruel world that you were forced to function in with parents downstairs who were most definitely ready to rake you over the coals for your horrible manners and a certain intimidatingly attractive boy that you knew so well, yet who felt like a stranger, just next door.

You didn’t bother to change out of your pajamas, so you made your way sluggishly down the stairs and made yourself a lazy bowl of cereal, hoping to avoid your parents for as a long as possible.

Unfortunately luck was not on your side as your mother came into the living room just as you sat down on the couch in front of the TV. “Well, look who’s finally awake. Is this how you live at college with those morning classes you’ve got?” she questioned in an almost joking way, much to your surprise.

You allowed a moment of silence, secretly fearing she would suddenly attack you with ‘why’s and ‘how could you’s about your behavior last night. When none of those questions came, only more silence, you decided to address it yourself. “You’re not mad?” you asked, letting yourself become hopeful. “I thought that you would be angry with how I acted last night.”

Your mother sighed and sat down beside you, resting her arm on the back of the couch to turn towards you. “You know, I was... But then I realized that something must have happened.” She spoke carefully as if she were walking on thin ice. “I know that’s not like you. Namjoon was acting the same way, and that’s not like him either. He went and disappeared into his room for the rest of the night, too.”

You bit your lip, wondering what Namjoon could have been thinking of you last night, or even what he could be thinking now. You hoped dearly that she wouldn’t want to know why all of this had happened, but of course, a mother always knows when something is wrong. “Is there something that happened last night that I should know about?” she questioned in the soft, caring way a mother does, but also with a hint of mischief, leaving you to assume she had the wrong idea.

You only shook your head and let out an exasperated chuckle. “No,” you assured her, completely lying through your teeth, “it’s not important.” Your hugged your knees to your chest and set your now empty cereal bowl onto the coffee table in front of you. Just as you picked up the TV remote and were about to turn it on, the doorbell of your front door had rung. Your mother quickly stood up and volunteered to answer it.

You placed the remote back down and instead listened to your mother greet the person on the other side of the door. The sound of the door creaking open was soon followed by your mother’s hospitable voice, “Namjoon! Hello!”

You quickly threw the blanket you were wrapped in across the room as you got up to peek your head around the wall to see your mother, but luckily you were blocked from Namjoon’s vision by the solid wood of the front door.

“Hello, Mrs. (L/N). I was wondering if I could speak with (Y/N) if she is available,” you heard him speak in his sweet, polite voice of honey that melted every bit of ice in your body. You still didn’t want to see him, though. Nope. Not at all.

Your mother casually peeked around the door to see you violently shaking your head to tell her that you were definitely not available to talk. She played it off as if you hadn’t been there by looking in the other direction as if looking around for you. She then turned back to him and gave an apologetic smile as she lied to him for you, “No, I’m sorry, Namjoon. I think she went to see some old friends from high school this morning. Maybe try coming back later, yeah?”

“Oh, I see.” Would it be too hopeful to think that you heard disappointment in his voice? Surely, there was absolutely no way he actually cared. “Well, thank you anyway.” They exchanged goodbyes and your mother shut the door as he began retreating back to his house.

She stopped and looked at you, placing a hand on her hip as you could only give a guilty smile. “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?” she interrogated with a knowing look. You only gave her another violent shake of your head as you disappeared back around the corner and onto the cushions of the couch.

You were really hoping Namjoon wouldn’t take the offer to come back later to see you. If this was how it was going to be until it’s time to go back to college, it was going to be a long summer.

“Have you started packing yet?” your mothers asks above the clinking of the silverware against glass plates, previously the only sound while you and your parents ate dinner in silence. There had been some underlying tension there the whole summer that you weren’t sure of the cause of, but for some reason, it was especially apparent tonight.

“No, I’m going to do that now actually,” you stated as you wiped your mouth with a napkin and picked up your dinner plate to wash it off in the sink. It was Wednesday and you were going back to college on Saturday. You heard your mother speak from behind you as you placed it in the dishwasher.

“Please try to finish up by Friday. You have some goodbyes to say.” You furrowed your eyebrows at her as you turned to face her, but she said nothing else as she still had her back to you, finishing her dinner. You decided not to question her and instead ascended the stairs the great feat of packing all your things for another year of college.

After you got comfortable and put on some pajamas, you began by taking all of your clothes you wished to take from your closet off of their hangers and folding them up before putting them away in a bag. From the corner of your eye, you could see a light flashing through your window behind your curtains. You slowly made your way through the piles of shirts and pants and everything of the like scattered across your bedroom floor. You hesitantly pulled your curtains open to see a bright light shining straight back at you from the window across from yours. Suddenly the light went out and when your eyes finally got accustomed to the darkness in front of you, you saw Namjoon standing behind his bedroom window, holding a flashlight.

As soon as he knew he had your attention, which he assumed he did by the fact that you didn’t immediately close your curtains in his face, he began turning the flashlight on and off in different patterns. You, of course, recalled that it was Morse code. You recognized a little bit, however, you were definitely rusty, and the cheat sheet Namjoon made for you all those years ago was thrown away in the move before the first year of college. There were some letters you recognized, others you didn’t but you thought you understood enough to infer that he spelled out: Can we talk?

You grabbed a piece of paper and a marker from your desk and quickly scribbled down before raising it and letting him read, Why all of a sudden?

You saw a frown form upon his lips at your written message. He also grabbed a sheet and a marker to respond, holding it up against his window. No Morse code?

No. It was inefficient. You quickly wrote back.

You could see him let out a chuckle in the grin on his face and the shake of his shoulders as he wrote something on the other side of his paper.

But I thought that was our thing, he teased. He even drew a little frowny face to get his message across.

Despite how much you didn’t want to, you gave a weak laugh and slightly shook your head. He grabbed another piece of paper and began scrawling a new message for you and held it up for you to see.

Please come over. I wanna talk.

You hesitated for a moment, looking between him and any other possible place to look in your room. Suddenly you looked down at yourself, already dressed in your pajamas, ready to call it a night. Part of you was tempted to give him a ‘no’ by simply shutting your curtains and turning your light off. However, the rational side of you knew that things couldn’t be left like this as the both of you went back to college. So, without even bothering to change, you slipped on a sweatshirt and slid on a pair of sandals and braved the excruciatingly short walk to his house.

He was there, opening the front door for you before you even made it up the first porch step. “I’m glad you’re here,” he sighed. “I didn’t think you would actually come.”

“What, you thought I’d just pretend we didn’t have that cheesy cliche paper-at-the-windows conversation?” you attempted to joke.

“Well, you did avoid me all summer, so I didn’t think it was impossible,” he spoke bluntly causing you to clear your throat uncomfortably, the grin falling from your face. Although you had hoped it wouldn’t be as painfully obvious as he made it seem, you had a feeling he would see right through your efforts to “accidentally” never have any time to spare for him. You should have lost hope long before the many other strange scenarios you were forced into to avoid talking with him from the very beginning when you pretended to take a call, but ended up looking like an idiot and exposing yourself as a liar when you were visibly holding your cell phone upside down.

You could only give an awkward hum as a response since you had no actual planned out excuse for avoiding him like the plague for the past two months. Namjoon opened the door wider and awkwardly shuffled back a few steps, motioning with his head for you to come in. You reluctantly accepted his offer and took a few steps to join him inside his house, him closing the front door behind you. You took a look around you and noticed the house was completely silent except for the sound of he stairs creaking beneath Namjoon’s feet as he began to lead you to the second floor. “Are your parents here?” you questioned him, shoving your hands in your pockets while still searching the area of the house you could see.

Namjoon shook his head, “No, it’s just me at home tonight.” You hated yourself for how much your heart rate sped up after hearing this. It shouldn’t matter to you that it was only the two of you in the building. It doesn’t matter to you.

You gave a hum in response just as the two of you reached Namjoon’s bedroom. You looked around for a moment, completely at a loss for what to do next, but you soon opted for hesitantly taking a seat on the end of his neatly made-up bed. Namjoon coughed and scratched at the back of his neck. “You know, I leave for college again tomorrow.” You simply looked between him and the wall to the side of you, unsure of what type of response he was looking for, so he continued onto his main point. “I just wanted to talk before I left to, you know, clear some things up.”

You didn’t even bother trying to hide your dread for the conversation he was trying to start. “Look, I won’t make you explain exactly what you meant that night when you said… what you said, but I just wanted to have you here to talk. To make sure things are okay between us. I guess.”

“Why now? It’s not like things were okay before,” you countered, crossing your arms and looking away from him while letting out half of an awkward chuckle.

“I know,” he sighed. “Maybe we could just start over. I want my best friend back.” He looked around the room for a new topic of conversation while drying his anxiously clammy palms on his jeans. He finally finds his words and uses his voice while motioning all around him, “Look! It’s just like old times! It’s just the two of us here.” He made his way over to his bed and sat beside you, but he kept looking ahead instead of facing you. “Remember how good we had it then? We didn’t have to care about… basically anything, and we told each other everything here.”

The nostalgia laced in his voice made you reminisce without even realizing you were doing so. “Yeah. I’ll never forget that day you told me you wanted to make music instead of studying. I was completely shocked to say the least.”

He turned to you with a chuckle. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know. You were just Kim Namjoon, the perfect student. I was sure you had it all figured out.” You huffed out a breath of air, remembering all of the turmoil and decision-making you faced yourself when you were that age.

“No. I definitely did not have it all figured out. I still don’t,” he reflected out loud. “I’ll never forget that time you told me you still had to sleep with your teddy bear.”

You elbowed him in the ribcage, but still let a smile grow on your face. “Come on, I was like twelve.”

He stayed silent for a moment before slowly turning his head to you, a smug grin playing on his face. “Are you still the same way?”

“It doesn’t matter!” you shouted, even though you weren’t able to contain your giggles. Being here in this room with Namjoon teasing you and making you laugh, it really did feel like old times.

“Come on, there’s no need to be shy,” he continued to provoke you. “We used to tell each other all our secrets here after all,” he continued, his words suddenly softening.

You got a sudden and overwhelmingly terrifying burst of courage to finally tell him what you had been so afraid to say for so many years. “Can I tell you a secret now?” you requested so quietly, it could barely be considered even a whisper. Namjoon furrowed his eyebrows but nodded attentively to coax you to continue. “I never realized it until after you started dating Hyunjee, but I think every time we came up here, I always really wanted to kiss you.” You couldn’t even believe the words that came out of your mouth. In fact, you had just endured the slowest most painful embarrassment as the words spilled from your mouth, but for whatever reason, you didn’t stop yourself. You guessed it had something to do with the feeling of lightness on your shoulders once you finally breathed in after your horrifying yet relieving confession.

You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes and your face felt like it was much too hot to be healthy, but you had no idea of what to do next, so you simply sat, staring at your hands resting in your lap while pursing your lips in fear and anticipation. The deafening silence in the room was finally put to an end when Namjoon spoke just as quietly as you had before. “Can I tell you a secret, too?” You mustered up the courage to lift your eyes to see his face, only to be met with his profile adorned with a small smile and that dimple that you loved oh-so-much. “I think I wanted to do the same.”

Your lips parted in shock as he slowly shifted to look you in the eye. This was the most intense feeling you had ever experienced, trapped within his gaze, wanting nothing more than to make a move to ensure that all of this is real, not just another hopeless dream from when you had those moments as best friends that made you question if you were really something more.

Without any warning, both of you were within centimeters of each other and your heart was beating wildly because you had never seen yourself actually getting into this situation you had contemplated for so many years now. Your lips finally connected after an agonizing moment of hesitance coming from the both of you. Despite how you had always imagined before, there were no fireworks. Instead, it gave you a warm and light-headed feeling like everything in the world was right again and so much weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. You weren’t even sure where your sudden confidence came from, but, still staying connected in the kiss, you pushed him back onto his bed and took your place on his lap. His hands began to wander to your hips and you could feel a smirk growing on his lips still pressed against yours. “Namjoon! We’re home!” you could hear coming from the first floor followed by the slam of a door. You quickly leaned away and broke the kiss, causing Namjoon to groan in annoyance.

“Sorry, looks like we’ll have to wait until fall break to finish this.” You gave a smug grin while sympathetically patting his chest.

He rested his hands on your thighs as you still sat on his lap. He looked up to you giving a disheartened expression, sighing, “Ah, (Y/N), that’s so far away.”

“I can survive. Can’t you?” you mocked.

He was still visibly and audibly beyond frustrated. “Well, I guess I’ve already waited his long.” he concluded. You let out a small giggle, one that he eventually returned, before you let the smile disappear from your face.

You leaned down to lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso. “I really am gonna miss you.” You spoke in the direction of the wall beside him.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you felt Namjoon leave a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I always missed you.”

“Me too,” you whispered. “I never should have left us behind,” you said, letting a long-neglected tear threaten to run down your cheek, tightening your grip around his waist. You squeezed your eyes shut, terrified that once you opened them again, everything would be gone.

When you finally did open them again, however, you were still in each other’s arms, still laying on the bed of your special place, the place where you told each other everything, and on that night, it had finally fulfilled its purpose. He was still holding you, and you were still crying, though you weren’t sure why. You were still together, and you were happy.

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eternityunicorn · 6 years

Text

Elijah’s Eternity: New Orleans - Part Two

Author: eternityunicorn

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikealson x OC

Warnings: Violance, Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: Sequel to the AU Elijah’s Eternity - Ten years have passed, a mournful Elijah has finally started to move on without his lady. In that time, he has gained a reunited family and has also found a new lady love. Yet, all is not well as danger comes for the smallest member of the Mikaelson family: Hope, and it prompts Niklaus to call upon the white goddess, drawing her back into Elijah’s life. As they reunite, can Elijah really say he’s truly moved on?

NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series!

———————————————————————————————————

Elijah followed Niklaus into his painting studio. The bright sun shone through the window brightly, glimmering off the glass jars upon the paint covered table by his brother’s easel with various brushes poking out the tops. It was to these brushes that Niklaus went. He took one of them from the container and dipped it into some red paint he had laying about.

With an over the shoulder smirk to him, Elijah’s brother knelt down and began to draw runes onto the hardwoods. Elijah realized immediately that Niklaus was preparing to cast a spell. Though he found it odd because it was impossible for vampires to use magic.

“Niklaus?” He questioned.

“We might not be able to do Earth-based magic,” his brother grinned slyly, “but nobody said we couldn’t use the magic of the gods.”

So that was it. Loki must have shown Niklaus how to use magic from the Immortal Universe. There was probably some law against it, as anything based in the Mortal Universe wasn’t supposed to know about the other side at all. Instead of mentioning this possible violation, he simply watched with interest as Niklaus wrote the runes for ‘summon the white goddess’.

Once they were complete, the hybrid put the brush and paint off to the side. Then he hovered his hand over the center of the rune design. He said a few words in a language that Elijah couldn’t recognize. He only knew that they were not of mortal origins.

The runes began to glow bright blue and hummed, much like in the way a unicorn’s horn does when using magic. Then after a moment, the markings ceased to glow or hum. Niklaus stood and moved away from the runes, as if he had accomplished his goal. There was just one problem; Eternity didn’t immediately appear, as Elijah assumed she would.

“Well, did it work?” He asked his brother impatiently.

“Relax, Elijah. She will come,” Niklaus calmly answered. “It’s not the type of spell that results in instant gratification. We will have to wait until nightfall, but she will be here. I promise.”

Elijah tried to play off his nerves as nonchalantly as he could, but of course, his brother knew the secret that was his relationship with Eternity from start to finish. Fortunately, he didn’t have to suffer from any more of Niklaus’s knowingness, because Gia had entered the room to unknowingly save him.

“Hey, Elijah,” the raven-haired vampire said with a radiant smile. “The rest of the family is wondering where you two have gotten off to. I offered to come check. Is everything alright?”

Elijah attempted to relax and succeeded to a degree. “Yes, all is well. Niklaus here was just making a call,” he replied to her with a tight smile, while gesturing to his smug brother. “We should be getting a response by nightfall. Hopefully, with any luck, this family’s troubles will soon be over.”

Gia’s interest was piqued. She moved further into the room, “Oh? That’s good. How, exactly?”

Niklaus smirked at Elijah, which in turn made him want to punch it from his smug face. “An old friend of your fiancé’s is coming into town, at my request,” his brother told Gia, who turned a curious expression unto him. “This friend has powers like you’ve never seen, my dear. She should be able to help us with our predicament.”

“A friend?” Gia questioned turning back to Niklaus. “What friend? And why are you only now calling this supposedly powerful person up to help? Why didn’t you do that before the Hollow possessed Hope?”

Elijah’s brother shrugged, “I needed to exhaust all our options first, before seeking...outside help. Now that we have, it is safe to call upon divinity.” Again, he looked at Elijah mischievously.

“Well, that’s great,” she said while putting one hand in the back pocket of her jeans, then gestured behind her with the other. “Shouldn't we tell the others of this grand master plan? Hayley would especially like to know that her daughter is going to be safe. She’s fit to be tied as we speak.”

“It’s not time for them to know,” Niklaus replied mysteriously. “They will find out this evening. Gia, be a dear, and go tell my lovely wife and siblings that all is well. That I have things well in hand.”

Gia looked displeased with the way that Elijah’s brother was ordering her about. Yet, she still complied with a roll of her brown eyes and left the room to do as Niklaus asked.

Elijah smiled fondly at her exit, knowing he was probably going to hear about the hybrid’s rude behavior later from the baby vampire. She and his younger brother never did get along and never would it seemed, even if she did marry into the family and become Nicklaus’s sister-in-law.

“Ah, the drama that is about to unfold,” chuckled Elijah’s little brother, after Gia was clear of ear shot. “This shall be quite the entertaining evening. I rather look forward to it.”

The smile shifted into a frown upon Elijah’s face and he rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “I’m so glad that you are amused, brother,” he said, looking out the window. “Though, I fear you may be disappointed. I highly doubt Eternity will be...catty, as you undoubtedly hope she will be, nor will Gia for that matter. Both women are rather understanding, insightful, and most of all, above such childish nonsense, Niklaus.” He delivered a tight, unamused smile to his brother.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Niklaus replied, “I actually wasn’t referring to the women, but to you, dear brother. I know where your heart really lies and I can’t help but wonder what you will do, once your former lady love finally returns to the fray?”

Elijah sighed exasperatedly again, rubbing his fingers over his forehead as he did. “I don’t know,” he spoke honestly, “but I do wish you wouldn’t use my life as a source of entertainment. I spent these past ten years as half a man without Eternity. I am trying to move on with my life, to love again, to be happy. Yet, it seems this is just a game to you, my suffering, my misery.”

Niklaus immediately turned completely serious then, for the first time since this whole conversation started. “Brother, I do not take lightly your pain,” he said, “but it is your fault for daring to love a creature that should have been left well enough alone. I told you that you would no longer belong to yourself, that you would belong to her, yet you didn’t heed my warning. You didn’t listen.”

“No, I suppose I did not,” he shoved his hand into his pants pocket to hide his clenching fist. He wanted to punch his brother for the whole ‘I told you so’ speech he had been spitting at him since they reunited. It was growing tiresome. “Yet, I do not regret it. I could never regret loving her, despite the misery of this life in her absence.”

Niklaus came over and clasped his shoulder, “Well, perhaps your misery can end, brother. Maybe she will return to you. The reason why she left in the first place is gone. She killed Loki. There could be hope still.”

Elijah huffed. He didn’t want to even entertain the idea that this time she’d stay if he asked her to or if she volunteered to, knowing there was a chance he’d only end up hurting himself more. Still, he appreciated his brother’s attempt to console him. It was a nice change from his earlier amusement at his expense.

“Perhaps, but I think it best not to think so hopefully,” he replied and then with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he changed the subject. “We should head back to the others and prepare for our incoming guest.”

With that, Elijah swept out of the room, before Niklaus could say anything else. His brother followed him and they rejoined the family in the study, where the meeting had been called. All eyes fell to him and Niklaus the moment they reentered the room.

“I’m sure little Gia has already told you,” his brother announced in that boisterous way of his, “that all will be well by nightfall. So you, my family, can go about your day without worry. Hope will be saved this day.”

Everyone looked at each other and then back at Niklaus as if he had finally gone completely mad. None of them moved. They each wanted to know what was going on? Why their brother was acting so cheerfully and unworried when only moments before he was distraught and desperate to save his daughter.

“What the bloody hell are you going on about, Nik?” Rebekah demanded. “What’s with all the secrecy, you wanker? I think we’d all like to know.”

“Yeah, what Rebekah said,” Hayley nodded, crossing her arms over her chest in that authoritative way of hers. “Gia said that you made a call? What have you done exactly, Klaus? How will our daughter be saved?”

Elijah decided to not play Niklaus’s game of mystery. Before his brother could spin more riddles, he took the opportunity to explain, “A decade ago, both Niklaus and I had separate encounters of the two of the most profound creatures to ever exist. We learned the answer to the question so many in this world seek; are we alone in the universe? The answer is simply no, we are not. My brother knows how to call upon these creatures or rather a specific one - the most powerful creature to ever exist. It is this...goddess that will help save Hope.”

“Oh! Did you have to ruin my fun, Elijah?” Niklaus whirled on him, looking utterly annoyed and disappointed.

Hayley approached Elijah, hope sparkling in her hazel eyes. “How do you know this ‘goddess’, as you call her, will help?”

Elijah smiled in distance fondness, his voice thick with emotion, an affliction he couldn’t help, as he replied, “I know, because this particular woman is a light in the darkness. She is divine and powerful enough to defeat the Hollow without fail. You don’t have to worry, Hayley. Hope will be safe in a matter of hours. You have my word.”

The female hybrid gave him a curious, contemplative look, which prompted Elijah to put distance between them before she became too curious and continue to grill him until she figured out the truth. He knew he was unable to hide behind his usual suave mask, not this time, not in regard to Eternity. The cracks in the mask were obvious every time.

Once the explanation was given, he fled the room, unable to take the inquisitiveness of his family. Nicklaus could fill in the gaps, though he knew to keep certain details quiet or else he’d incur his big brother’s wrath. Not surprisingly, Gia followed after him.

“Elijah,” she called after him, as she trailed him down the stairs into the courtyard.

At the bottom of the stairs, he fluidly turned back and smiled at her as she too reached the bottom. She really was a beautiful woman and so real, but not for the first time, did Elijah see the white ghost of Eternity superimposed upon Gia’s corporal form, haunting him. It would always make him believe for the briefest second that she was Eternity until the glamor faded and he was faced with the reality.

Still, despite this, he reached for his dark haired beauty and pulled her into his arms, giving her the sweetest kiss. It was one of longing, caused by the apparition. She squeaked in surprise, before melting into him, seemingly unaware of his true heart’s desire.

Just then, Elijah heard a familiar sound, but one that he had not heard in ten years. It was the sound of demonic growling. Immediately, he broke their kiss and turned from Gia, pushing her behind him protectively as he did.

“Elijah?” She questioned in a concerned whisper, “Elijah, what is it?”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he put his finger to his lip to signal her to be quiet. Then he turned back to the foe that loomed in the shadows of the courtyard. As he watched for movement, the rest of the family quickly rushed from the study to hurriedly join him. They had felt the danger as well then.

“What the bloody hell is that?” Niklaus growled.

“Demons,” Elijah replied and as he did, the little green grotesque creatures emerged in a small army from the shadows.

“We come for the girl,” one of them said in a growling hiss, as it slinked closer like a predator preparing to attack. “We want the child possessed by the one known as the Hollow. Give her to us. Now!”

With that, the demon horde did attack. Though they seemed easy to overtake, and when faced against Eternity they were, the little creatures were, in fact, quite a challenge to overcome for the Original family. Each member took on a small section, fighting them off well enough, but none were able to make a kill. This was because the demons’ hides were thick and impenetrable to any kill shot executed. They couldn’t tear their hearts out or rip their heads from their shoulders, which was frustrating as it was worrisome.

“Why won’t these nasty buggers die?” Rebekah growled as she threw one against the wall and then tossed another across the courtyard.

“I’ve never seen creatures like these before,” Kol commented as he fought against four of the demons at once, holding them at bay with his fighting prowess, but also unable to kill any of them.

Niklaus raged as did Hayley, both frustrated by the lack in ability to slay the enemy and panicked that these creatures would succeed in getting to their daughter that lay in a spell induced sleep upstairs. Finn too seemed agitated by this impossible enemy.

Elijah didn’t know what to do. He knew that none of them could defeat these creatures. A helpless feeling coursed through him as a result, one that echoed through to the others. Then one of them slipped past their collective defenses and went after Gia, whom didn’t participate in the fighting and had ducked down behind the stair case, knowingly unable to fight but unwilling to leave Elijah.

Foolish girl, he thought as he shouted her name in panic and raced to save her from harm. He succeeded by grabbing the creature by the back of the neck and tossing it clear across the room effortlessly. Then he ordered Gia to get upstairs with Freya, whom had also remained behind, and she complied without protest, racing up the stairs.

Just as he turned back to face the chaos around him, another demon made a leap for Elijah, but was felled before it could get it’s claws on him...by a sacred arrow! He couldn’t see her at first, but knew that she was there.

Eternity!

One by one the twenty or so demons fell to her sacred arrows. They all screamed and burned as the pure energy ate them from the inside out like an administered poison. Within moments, the threat had been obliterated.

It was then, in the calm of the battle’s end, that Elijah saw Eternity standing there near the arched entryway of the compound with her yumi bow at her side and the quiver on her back. She looked the same, yet different. The ethereal glow was still there, but the light in her eyes, in her face was diminished. Even the way she held herself was changed, hard and foreboding.

Her style reflected this change too. Instead of silky and colorful corset tops, she wore a tight and thick leather vest over her leather leggings and a thick oversized leather duster hung over her body ominously, all the leathers were worn and old looking, making her look like she was death itself. Her white hair that usually hung down around her in ever moving waves, was kept braided in tight braids along one side of her head while the rest flowed freely. Leather fingerless gloves adorned her fingers and she kept one hand resting on the hilt of her katana that was strapped to her side. She looked like a battle worn warrior, cold and tired.

Elijah couldn’t stop staring at her. It was too good to be true for her to be there.

Then he noticed that she was not alone. There was another, a mini-me, as it were. There was a young girl that looked like an almost identical clone to Eternity, yet there was a childishness to her that told Elijah that the girl was much younger than her. This clone also held a yumi bow and a quiver of arrows. She also wore similar leathers to her older counterpart, yet her slightly shorter white hair hung around her as Eternity’s normally did.

Could this be Eternity’s daughter? Elijah though with wonder.

“Well, well,” Eternity then said with a smirk, catching Elijah’s attention, “if it isn’t my favorite vampire family; the Mikaelsons. Would someone please like to tell me just what is going on here? More specifically, whom it was that was bold enough to call upon me so freely?”

It was then that Niklaus stepped forward into her view. “It was me, love. I called you.”

What followed next was both deserved and worrisome.

To Be Continued....

7 notes · View notes

not-all-that-chic · 6 years

Text

Gunpowder Blush

Jaebum x Reader [Police!AU]

“ On a normal day, I would find myself doodling away on my brightly colored post-it notes, daydreaming about my boss until Jinyoung chastises me about my lack of productivity.

Today, however, was not a normal day. ”

trans. | Your opinion is extremely important to me.

genre | Fluff, Smut, Drama

wordcount | 11.9k

warnings | language, gore, dirty talk, rough sex, male dom, degradation, exhibitionism, edging, masturbation, overstimulation

rec. track | ♫ ♩

video | ►

in·frac·tion inˈfrakSH(ə)n

a minor or petty offense that may be proceeded against summarily, and without a jury.

misd. ⟨infr.⟩

"Oh my god!" The bullet is deeply lodged into his calve. I start to shake, becoming faint at the sight of his blood. He places his hand over the wound and squeezes it.

"Fuck!"

"What do I do?!" I panic and look around, eyes flitting everywhere impatiently, wishing the gods would come down and help me and him. "I need to call an ambulance or-"

"Run after her!" He growls at me. I flinch.

"Are you crazy?! You just got shot!"

"I'm not disabled! I can take care of myself! Don't let our suspect and one piece of evidence get away!" I hesitate to leave him. "I promise. I will be fine." His voice and eyes soothe my worries and my beating heart. I nod and run off in the direction she went, my adrenaline firing.

Luckily, she's rather slow and Mulgogi is slowing her down. She's already in her car when I reach her. Once she realizes the situation, she grabs her gun and shoots out her window, aiming at me. In her shakiness, she misses. But out of fear I duck and am effectively paralyzed. She drives away quickly and I can't do anything—

Her license plate! I memorize the numbers and letters. DCG4476. It's a black SUV with some flashy rims. I commit it to memory. Cursing myself, I feel terrible that I couldn't stop her.

I disappointed him. I suddenly realize he's hurt and run back, heart pulsating. In my moment of passion, I didn't fully asses the damage. Oh god, what if he bled out?! No, I shake my head. He'll be fine. He said so. I can't help fearing for the worst. When I return, he's in the same place, head leaned against the wall, hissing in pain.

Once I reach him, I slow down and land on my knees in front him. He opens one eye.

"I already called an ambulance.." Nodding, I hold my hands in my lap.

"Can I...?" Tentatively, he lifts his hand off the wound. Thankfully, it's bleeding, but not to the point of severe blood loss. The skin around it is torn and there is gunpowder entering the flesh. I almost gag.

"It was an old bullet," he tells me through grit teeth. I don't know know what it means, but it's nothing good, I know that much. I rip off the edge of my shirt sleeve and apply it to the wound, applying pressure so he won't have to. I frown at his condition, feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry..." He sighs. It only fuels my guilt further. "If only I hadn't kept the cat..."

"I'm sure there is cat hair on me and the rest of this house that will be enough for this case."

Lowering my head, I mumble, "If only I hadn't taken you to my house. You wouldn't be shot."

"Be quiet." He commands me, anger laced in his words. "This self-pitying attitude of yours is tiresome. I already told you I was fine. Why do you keep blaming yourself?" I can't even look at him.

"I don't know! I just do! I've always been like this." I choke. He lifts my head up, hand on my chin. His eyes soften, but there's underlying frustration there. He wipes my cheek with his clean hand.

"Don't cry. It doesn't help any."

"I'm sorry."

"There you go again. Do I scare you?" I blink owlishly at him and he wipes my cheek again. To my own surprise, I blush.

"No. U-um. You're really nice. Yeah..." He watches me sputter for words with tenderness. "I just feel bad for putting you in this situation."

"Then let's have an agreement. Tell me what it is that worries you and I'll tell you something about myself." His words... I realize what he's doing. Constantly, he checks my expression and eyes. He wants to get my mind off my obvious failure and fears at his own expense. However, it doesn't feel as if he's babying me. It's odd.

"Okay. Well um. I'm worried that I won't live up to your standards. And I'm worried that you'll get mad at me or be disappointed. I'm scared you'll think less of me. You hold me on a high pedestal and I don't want you to be disillusioned by my failures."

"You told me you weren't afraid me."

"I'm not!" I insist.

"Then why are you so afraid of me being disappointed?"

"I... I'm not sure." His eyes widen suddenly as if realizing something. Something in the air has changed. His hand lands on my hands.

"After hearing that..." I tilt my head. He shakes his. "It's nothing of importance. Just, you're not quite sharp when it comes to yourself."

"What?"

"Well, I'll tell you something about me," he changes the subject quickly. Although I want to ask him to explain himself, I don't want him to get mad or anything. He hisses when he adjusts himself.

I suddenly think back: when will the ambulance arrive? You would think someone being shot would be a priority! And although he's hiding behind his cocky attitude and comforting words, I can see him shift in discomfort.

"Okay."

"Around three years ago, I was still an officer."

"Really?!"

"Of course. You think I was born a Chief Inspector?"

"Well, no..."

"I really loved— and still love —being in the middle of the action. I was a part of the Seoul SWAT team." Mouth agape, I'm suddenly no longer shocked by his confidence and bravery. "Shocking, isn't it? Would you believe me if I said Mark and Jackson worked with me, too?"

"Mr. Tuan? Seriously?"

"We were on the same squad. I was our squad leader."

"Why did you leave?"

"I didn't leave. I was promoted to Chief Inspector for our division. I was going to stay, but the constant calls were wearing my body down." I nod. It's entirely impossible in my mind for someone so strong like Jaebum to ever get tired.

"And Mr. Tuan and Jackson?"

"When I stepped down, they came with me."

"Do you like being Inspector?" He shrugs.

"I don't have a passion for it. But it's my job now." He frowns. "It's peaceful, but I miss my SWAT team. When you become so used to those stressful situations, you start to miss it."

Before I can ask him to elaborate, the telltale sirens sound and I sigh in relief.

The days pass at a torturous pace. Even with my description of the car and the exact license plate number, nothing is happening. There's only one week until the court hearing and the lawyers involved can start their cases for their respective sides. I can only sit uselessly. At least today, Jaebum will be released from the hospital.

His recovery went well since he obediently took all the medicine he needed and ate plenty of food. I'm glad he didn't break any bones; just damaged a few nerves. I visit every day and I'm getting ready to visit again.

Over the three weeks he was resting, I'd like to think we became rather close. I feel like I've made a dear friend. Jaebum is a bit rough around the edges, but if you can weasel into his heart, he's a wise and gentle spirit. He loves cats, reading books and he has quite the appetite. I may have snuck him a few bags of cookies on occasion. I'm extremely thankful to have met him. I've learned a lot about him— and surprisingly —about myself, too

Since work is rather slow today, I decide to leave early.

Jinyoung smiles. "Going to see the Inspector off?"

"Yeah. Today's his last day." I return his joyful expression.

"You seem a lot more cheerful these days." He sends me a sly look, but I shrug.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Mhmm. Of course. Well, call me later."

"I will." Grabbing my belongings, I walk out of the office, but when I open the door, Mr. Tuan bumps into me. He grabs my shoulders to steady me.

"Oh! How's my special employee doing?" He grins and ruffles my hair. The contact doesn't send fireworks up my spine like it usually does.

"Pretty well. Thank you for asking, Mr. Tuan." A soft chuckle bubbles out of his lips as his eyes wrinkle. His expression isn't as cute as I remembered it.

"You know, you look so content and cute these days. What brought that on?" His compliment doesn't make me blush and revert into a blushing mess. I find myself laughing along with him instead. It's odd and somewhat concerning; for two years I've had a crush on my boss. I couldn't have possibly lost feelings so quickly.

"I'm not sure. I'm actually rather stressed with this case and Jaebum's recovery." He raises an eyebrow, confused.

"Jaebum? You're on a first name basis with him?"

"Yes. I consider him a friend."

"Oh? Isn't that... funny."

"Is it? I guess it's a little weird, but Jaebum is really nice and so intelligent. He's a great leader and he's brave. And funny." His expression becomes more and more gleeful with everything thing I say.

"You must really like him."

"Yes!" He chuckles and places a hand on my back.

"Then don't let me keep you! Tell Jaebum I said hi!"

"Yes, sir!"

I practically run those 10 blocks to the hospital. It was an important day for me and for the investigation. Once I reach the hospital, I grin. The receptionist has seen me many times and nods. The trek down the hallways makes me anxious. It's his last day. If anything I should be happy he's going to be released, but I can't shake something off, and I don't know what that something is.

I quickly find Jaebum's room and am greeted with the sight of two older people there. Quietly, I step into the room. Jaebum spots me first. He says my name: a wonderful sound. The two people turn around, at first wary, but then they seem happy to see me as well.

"Oh! How lovely to finally meet you, dear!" The word "finally" really sticks to me. She stands up and embraces me.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm so glad such a nice girl is taking care of our son." It suddenly hits me as Jaebum's father hugs me. His parents. My throat is dry, but I feel really warm knowing they already like me so much.

Jaebum watches us interact, his eyes looking like they will burst any minute. They seem to sparkle with unsaid emotions. Although he's rather stoic, I've never seen him so happy before and it makes me smile. I blush at his cute and unguarded expression. He looks like a child with his favorite pet.

"Meet my parents."

"It's nice to meet the both of you." For some reason, it never occurred to me that Jaebum had parents that loved and cared for him. I haven't seen my parents in— I don't even let the thought settle in my mind. My heart aches for him, who is so happy with his parents in the room.

"Sit down." Jaebum pats the chair beside him. I blush and do as he says. His parents get comfortable as his dad instantly goes to protest.

"You know how much he argued for us to not take that seat?"

"If only you would have heard him, dear! "No, Mother. I'm saving this seat. You'll see who she is. She's just like you." My goodness, he has never been so stubborn." I cover my face with my hands and stare at the floor. What did all of this mean? Why was Jaebum so eager to introduce me-

Oh no. I thought we were just friends! I guess he still has feelings for me. What am I supposed to do?! How do I reject— well? Suddenly the idea of rejecting him doesn't sound so pleasant to me. I don't want him sad. Plus, wouldn't he be a great boyfriend?

"What are you thinking?!"

There's a pregnant silence. Suddenly his parents burst into laughter. Jaebum shoots me a questioning look. Did I blurt that?

"What are you thinking?" Jaebum grabs my hand. My previous thoughts return to me and I gently pull my hand back. His eyebrows furrow.

"Honey," Mr. Im mumbles to his wife. He points to his watch. "It's nearly three." They both stand up and smile.

"Will you take care of our son? I'm afraid we have a flight back soon."

"Yes. Please take care of him. He's a stubborn and dumb kid."

"I'm not a child anymore."

"In my eyes you are. Let's go, honey." They come and kiss Jaebum on the cheek. He watches their backs.

"Have a safe flight." They wave me a goodbye, which I return, before exiting the room. I'm still in shock over my thoughts, his actions, his parents.

The past five minutes have been quite eventful.

"What is it?" Jaebum asks me, the sparkle in his eyes never leaving. It's so cute, but I try to swat that thought away. I can't possibly.

"Nothing."

"Tell me what's wrong." He grabs my hand again and my face bursts into a bright red. His touch is soft and when I look into his eyes, I'm trapped. They seem to have an intense aura that I've never noticed. I can't look away. And he has two little moles above his eye. His hair frames his face perfectly. Not to mention his strong nose. He looks like a Greek God. How could I only now notice?!

And his lips are very pink.

"I can't!" My thoughts culminate in a simple statement: I have fallen in love.

In the two years I've worked in this division, I've met and spoken with the Chief Inspector many times. I've had the pleasure of working with Mr. Im in the last month or so. And now the last three weeks to fall in love with Jaebum.

And now he has to carry this burden. I lower my head. Maybe he doesn't like me back. My brain tends to make up ideas that aren't real. I was probably delusional and making up fake scenarios in my mind where he liked me. Yes. That must be it. He just praised me because he admired my intelligence. He talked to me because I was his friend. How could I have been so blind, to lead myself on like that?

"You're doing it again." I can hear the disappointment in his voice. He lifts my head up. "Why are you crying?" Gosh and now he sounds frustrated and it's all my fault. Stupid me for getting too deep in his charm. He wipes my tears, but they don't stop. I start to hiccup.

"I-I'm so-rry!"

"I can't help if you're you like this."

I can't tell you! I want to say. It will ruin everything! I scream in my mind. I want to say it, but I'm scared.

He interlaces his fingers with mine and the other is dedicated to softly running through my hair.

"Come on, baby girl." My heart stops. Time freezes. I feel my whole body go limp and tense all at the same time.

"Stop crying." Heat pools in my body, threatening to burn me alive. My tears abruptly stop. He watches me.

"Speak to me. I know you're-"

"Baby girl..." I drift. For once, my mind is utterly empty.

"Yes? I said that. Do you want me to refer to you as something else?"

"N-no! I mean-well I! I!" Sighing, I gather myself. "Why did you call me that?" He rubs his forehead and smirks, amused.

"I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"You're sharp, but not when it comes to matters of the heart." He grabs my face and suddenly his lips are so close to mine I can't even think.

"Jaebum..."

"I'll kiss you, but only if you ask nicely."

I'm beyond embarrassment when I whimper my response. "Please." He obliges. His lips feel even better than they look. I want to bring him close and taste him even more. His hands are rough from his work, but it feels nice and sends a tingle somewhere I have no experience with. I'm ashamed of my own body's receptiveness to him.

He pulls away and I quietly whine. He smirks, but doesn't comment.

"I want to make sure you get it."

"What?"

"You're mine. You're my girlfriend. I told my parents as much." It's suddenly all too much for me. "Your crush on me was extremely obvious. I humored you at first, but now I like you." My ears feel tingly. His words touch me deeply. I've never felt so loved and needed in my life. I can't help my tears again. I feel like a huge crybaby, but it's not my fault.

"I want to t-tell you something."

"Go ahead."

"I know I'm really snotty and weak and I cry a lot-"

"You have a soft heart. Not a problem." I shake my head.

"Please listen, okay?" His expression becomes completely serious. Taking a deep breath, I go into the recesses of my mind, to a place I don't like going.

"When I was younger, I had a pretty normal childhood. My parents were normal people. I had normal friends. Everything was fine. Then, my grandmother on my dad's side died.

"My dad was really attached. Her death really affected him. He began neglecting me. He insulted my mom. He never used violence or got drunk, but he told me I was weak and dumb. He rarely came home and my mom dropped all that negativity on me.

"She would tell me how much she hated him. I still loved him and I tried to understand him. It was hard for me because I hated my dad for being the way he was and I hated my mom for hating him. I wanted to love the-" I felt a knot in my throat.

"That's in the past."

I go on, "Eventually, my mom divorced him, but it was hard for her and me. She had to work two jobs. Sometimes I felt like I had no parent. I was glad I had Jinyoung to support me. We went to college together. I would do anything for him. He helped me when I needed it the most."

"I'm proud of you for telling me this." He puts a hand on my head and I glow from the praise.

"I'm happy you're the first person to know. I trust you."

"Now it's my turn to admit something. This is the first time in my life I have ever been so invested in someone." His serious and straight to the point attitude sends a shiver up my spine.

"Jaebum..."

"I'm serious about you."

"I..." The words die in my mouth.

"You can doubt yourself, but never doubt me." He comes closer to me. My heart screams at me from within my ribcage. It wants to be let out. This pressure on my shoulders disappears and I feel light. My brain is telling me this is fine. I should do what I want to do and not worry so much. He grabs me and pulls me onto the hospital bed. I become anxious, but his confidence dispels my worries.

I like it. This relationship I've accidentally stumbled into. It's the most wonderful accident.

"Let me prove to you how much I need you, baby girl." The nickname has my heart flipping, but I feel red hot. I want him to make the burn go away.

"Please, Jaebum," I beg, already anticipating what's to come. His eyes close and he groans. His arms hold me on top of him. When he looks at me, he's engulfed in something dark. I nearly fall on him from the look of pure hunger on his face.

"Go lock that door."

I could promise with my faulty memory that I have never run and locked a door so quickly. And he remarks on this.

"Eager?" When I sit back near him, he drags me to straddle him. Shuddering, I breath with difficulty. He looks me up and down and I feel naked already under his intense staring.

A shaky, "Yes," is all I can pull from my parched mouth. His hands dig into my hips and he brings me closer, forcing me to rub my clothed pussy on his already growing erection. My face burns when he exhales. I'm overwhelmed.

"I don't know if I can be gentle if you look like that."

"Don't—do what you want with me." He suddenly yanks me down and my lips crash into his. The impact hurts, but his adept lips make me forget quickly. Jaebum bites my lips rather harshly and I wince. His hands explore my sides and land on my ass as he gives it a squeeze. I moan into his mouth and he practically eats it. He shoves his tongue in my mouth and I let him explore me. His tongue leaves me dizzy, like I'm drunk on his taste. I feel limp in his arms, merely enjoying the sensation.

I've never experienced something like this before. I feel an immense pressure in my lower abdomen and my clit pulses. Although I can't figure out anything with Jaebum kissing me and grabbing my ass, I am cognizant enough to know that I need more than just a kiss.

I— reluctantly —separate and blush at the trail of saliva connecting our lips.

"More..." I moan.

"You're so hot. Fuck." He obliges quickly. One of his hands travels down and into my pants. The contact of his rough finger on my clothed clit makes me moan shamelessly and bite my lip.

"You've never been fingered like this, huh? You want me to make you cum just like this?" His voice growls in my ear. My body shakes as I rest my face on his neck, breathing shallow. He slowly circles my clit with his finger, occasionally pressing onto it. It sends electricity up my spine and down into my stomach.

"Your panties are fucking soaked. Is this all for me, baby girl?" He rubs a certain spot, the directness of the stimulation hurting and making me moan. It's so much— too much.

"Yesyesyesyesyes. Oh fuck—" I can't speak; I just buck into his hand, finding purchase. He ups his pace, fingers relentlessly vibrating against my clit. I release a wanton moan and bite his shoulder. Sweat beads on my forehead.

"Moan for me. I want everyone in this hallway to hear you." My moans are needy and loud. I feel close. I'm not sure what close is, but the pressure on my clit and Jaebum egging me on with his words brings me deeper and deeper. Just when I feel like the burning is about to boil over—

He stops. I whine at the loss of contact, but he yanks my shirt off my body, taking my bra along with it. He latches his lips to a nipple and bites it. I cry out.

"Open your eyes and fucking look at me." I obey quickly and nearly cum on the spot: he's sweating and his hair is messy, but his eyes are alive with carnal and raw desire. He lasciviously licks that nipple before sucking it. My hands shake, but I prop myself up, making it easier for him. His eyes never leave mine. And I don't think he wants to stop looking.

Jaebum begins to slowly grind up into me. The sensation of his clothed cock rocking on my clit has me whimpering again: "Jaebum..." I feel his cock on me. There's no doubt he's just as turned on as I am.

"That's right. Moan for me, you fucking slut." The derogatory terms make my pussy clench. I moan as my eyes roll back. He sucks on my nipple and releases it with a pop before giving the other the same attention.

"Fucking love it when I call you names? I bet you do. You're so wet I bet if I touched your pussy now my finger would slip right in." Despite the lewdness of his words, I don't doubt it. I probably have soaked through my panties. Blushing at the thought I look away. Pain rushes into my body when I feel him twist my nipple.

"Did I say you could look away?" I whip back in his direction and his smirk goes straight to my eager cunt.

"N-no..." The dynamic change from sweet and caring Jaebum to this has me quaking with anticipation. I reach down towards his pants. His dick is poking me, already hard as a rock. My hands gingerly wrap around it and give a gentle tug. He throws his head back and groans, guttural. His face full of ecstasy makes me want to touch him more, urge him to make more of those delicious moans. I want him to just fuck me until I can't walk. I grow impatient. As if hearing my thoughts, he stops.

He pushes me off him and I blink with confusion.

"Well? Take your pants off." When I see him taking his shirt off I take it as my cue. At the speed of light, I take off my pants. I hesitate at my panties. Looking back at him, I gape at his body. The planes of his chest are smooth and slicked with sweat. His stomach looks built, but not too much. There are some hairs on his abdomen that lead down lower into his pants... I swallow my saliva.

"Like something you see?" My eyes flit back to his smirking face.

"I want to suck your cock." It catches him off guard and I surprise myself. Where did this confidence come from? He growls and gets off the bed, cornering me like a predator. I back up I until my back hits the wall. Jaebum places his hand on my head and shoves me until I kneel down. I look up at him, hands in my lap.

"Work for it, slut." Eyes wide, my hands make quick work of his belt buckle and pants. Dragging his pants and underwear down, my mouth waters once his cock springs out. It's red at the tip and angry, precum leaking out. I don't waste any time and give a few kitten licks.

"Shit..." he squeezes his eyes shut, hand on the wall, and I preen at his reaction. Motivated, I take half of it into my mouth, watching his reaction. He growls and grips my hair. I hollow my cheeks and suck, bobbing up and down on what my mouth can fit. His hand tugs on my hair, making me wince. Jaebum looks at me, sharing eye contact, and bites his lip.

"Bet you love having my dick in your mouth." I moan, sending vibrations to his cock. He grabs the back of my head and shoves the rest of it in my mouth. My nose touches his abdomen and when his cock reaches the back of my throat, I gag. I can't breathe. Tears well up in my eyes, but I force myself to relax.

Once I do, he relentlessly fucks himself into my mouth. I hold onto my complaints, but at the same time, I like it. Him using me as an object to reach his orgasm, it makes my pussy ache for him. He's using me to satisfy his needs. Every time he rocks himself my throat burns, but the roughness makes me wetter.

"Touch yourself," he says through clenched teeth. My hand is shaky as it touches my forgotten clit. The relief I receive is instant. Eyes rolling, I nearly forget Jaebum's cock in my mouth. I flick my wrist, abusing my clit with my middle and forefinger. The juices from my aching sex remind me of what's to come.

His pace doesn't relinquish for even a second. I can't even breathe. And his hands dig into my scalp and pull me any which way. Jaebum moans particularly loud and it makes my pussy throb. My fingers hiccup at the sound.

"Your throat is so warm— fuck! You're so dirty, fucking yourself while my dick is down your throat." I spread my legs more, eager for more. I shove my hand down my panties and shove a finger in my hole. He takes his cock out of my mouth to let me breathe, but I can only inhale once before he slams it back in. A tear rolls down my cheek. The pain and pleasure melt together to the point where I can't discern the difference.

My stomach clenches and I know this time that I'm near an orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum. So close—!" He grunts, barely able to speak. Whimpering, I feel myself climbing a hill. It builds and builds, threatening to burn me alive. "Come on, baby girl. Choke on my dick." On command, white-hot pleasure is searing through me and I close my eyes. My legs shake and my body falls limp, rubbing out my orgasm. He yanks my head back and takes his dick out of my mouth. Coughing, I grab my throat and breath in the air I was desperately missing.

When I open my eyes again, he's panting and working himself to his own release. I encourage him.

"Please cum, Jaebum. Cum all over my face." With one final groan, his seed releases onto my face and he closes his eyes, hand on his forehead. We both let our labored breathing mingle and slow as we come down from our highs. He wicks away his sweat before looking down at me. Smiling, I gaze into his eyes with adoration.

"Wipe that innocent look off your face. I'm not done with you yet." I'm unable to wonder as he suddenly picks me up and tosses me onto the hospital bed. He fully removes his pants and underwear. And then I'm suddenly reminded of where we are. We're about to have sex in a hospital room where anyone could hear.

"Jaebum, maybe we should stop." His hand lands on my clit and I gasp, breath hitching. He rubs me from on top of my panties and I feel myself building already.

"I want to taste you, but I can save that for another day." I can't manage a protest when he pulls my panties aside and shoves a finger inside. The moan that escapes me is so needy and lewd, I would be surprised if no one heard it.

"Oh, Jaebum!"

"Look at you. So fucked out and I've barely done anything. Are you sure you want to stop?" At the unforgiving pace he's fingering me, I can't even think. He smirks and adds another finger. My moans grow louder and more desperate. I arch into him, my breasts grazing his chest.

Jaebum leans down and sucks a huge hickey on a random spot on my neck. With his free hand, he takes a nipple between his fingers and pulls it. The searing sensation clouds my judgment. His fingers hit a spot that has me nearly screaming in his ear. He adds another digit and scissors me sloppily. My juices coat his fingers and I can hear how he fucks me, so hard and fast and without mercy. The familiar heat grows in my stomach and he continues to move around inside me. My vision grows blurry by the second.

"Oh god! P-please! I'm so close!" At that, he abruptly removes his fingers with a growl. I want to yell at him for continuing to tease me, but he flips me over and slams his cock into my pussy. A scream rips from my throat and he moans in tandem. The force of the impact has me gripping the bedsheets in a vice.

"Holy fuck! You're dripping. Your pussy swallows me so good, baby girl." I whimper, the stretch hurting my virgin hole. And he notices, just letting his cock settle inside me. He growls and squeezes my hips hard. The grip he has will definitely leave marks, but for now, it only fuels my libido.

"It's taking every ounce of my self-control to not pound you into this bed." I wiggle my ass, telling him it was okay, and he slowly thrusts into me. It hurts for a little, but then I find myself wanting more.

"Faster." Once he hears that, he takes his cock out and shoves it back in. He sets a steady pace. His breath is shallow, but he doesn't slow down for a moment. The idea of getting fucked doggy style never appealed to me, but the way his cock naturally curves into me makes me want to convulse. It's so good— too good.

"Say my name," he whispers lewdly into my ear.

"Jaebum." The idea of someone possibly hearing our moans, my screams, the intermingling of our pleasure only takes me higher.

A sharp pain on my ass suddenly wakes me from my stupor. Moaning, my toes curl in response.

"Fucking scream it like you were earlier."

"Jaebum!" He smacks my ass again and I hiss, but I'm seeing stars. His hand rubs the spot and I whimper.

"This is fucking amazing. Your pussy was made for my cock." His filthy words make my pussy clench around him. I feel myself getting closer and closer. He pushes my head down onto the bed. I raise my ass and spread my legs more, allowing him to reach deeper and deeper. The bed rocks back and forth at the force of his thrusts.

Jaebum spreads me open and suddenly reaches a spot that has me screaming. And he hits it over and over again. I pant and moan, so close I can taste my orgasm.

"Are you enjoying this? Knowing someone could walk by and hear you moan like the bitch in heat you are." My eyes roll to the back of my head.

"I'm close! I'm gonna cum!" He picks up his pace and slams into me. My hole is dripping with my juices and the sweat coming from us both. His hand reaches for my hair and pulls me up.

"Then do it. Cum!" My body feels like it's on fire. Even my throat is raw from screaming. "I want your filthy cunt dripping. Cum all over my cock like the cock slut you are." The force of my orgasm hits me like a freight train. With that last sentence, I feel myself falling over the edge. My body convulses and my wet pussy contracts around Jaebum's dick.

He still hasn't cum yet, so despite how tired I am, I try to help him reach his own. "Come on baby. I want you to cum inside my pussy. It's so wet for you." He moans loudly and speeds up— I didn't think it was possible —and my clit protests at the overstimulation. It hurts.

"Fuck. You're so hot. So hot. So wet. I could fuck your little pussy and never get tired." He leans over me, breath fanning on my neck. I turn to see his face, and I nearly cream myself. His fucked out and blinded by pleasure expression. His eyes are blown so wide they look black. They're clouded and lost in the ecstasy and I want to cum again. Jaebum bites down on my neck and I moan.

"Oh, baby—please!"

"Cumming again? Can't get enough of my cock, huh?" My eyes close and I feel his cock pulsing inside of me. "Scream my name. I want to hear it from that pretty mouth."

"Please cum inside me— on me I don't care just fuck me harder!" With one particularly hard thrust, I cum again. "Jaebum!" If no one in the hospital heard me the first time, then they could hear me that time. A loud moan falls from his lips as he leans over me, his frame swallowing mine. Jaebum thrusts a few more times and he follows, pulling out and cumming all over my ass and back.

He falls beside me and stares into my eyes. We slow our breathing and lie there peacefully, just watching each other. His fingers brush the sweat-matted hair from my face.

"You look so beautiful." I glow from his compliment and smile. He returns it and I blush, in awe of how beautiful he looks when he smiles. The edges of his eyes wrinkle as his eyes disappear beneath his eyelids. I've never been so happy just watching someone smile. And it makes me curious.

"How can you smile so cutely after you just got done mercilessly fucking me?" Jaebum laughs loudly, his mouth opening wide like a dinosaur. I feel my heart pound at how endeared I am. His laugh dies down and he looks at me in worry.

"I didn't hurt you at all, did I?"

"No. I really liked it..." Face burning, I hide behind my hands. Arms envelop me as I get pulled into his chest. He gently rubs my back and kisses the crown of my head.

"I'm glad." There's a warm silence the fills the air, but I feel myself enjoying it. In his arms, I feel so at ease, so at home. It's like a belonged here all along. To think I was afraid of him before. There's nowhere more safe for me than here with him. And I will never doubt that again.

"Why can't I come with you?" I bite my lip. He closes his eyes, arms crossed.

"It's dangerous. Did you forget that I'm still healing from when I got shot? Or did that casually slip your mind?" His tone is hard; he won't be budging anytime soon. Fiddling my fingers, I look up at him. He returns to looking at the file on Mr. Jung's mistress.

What if Ms. Kim shoots him again? What if this time it's fatal? Sweat forms on my forehead. I feel too attached to him. I've come to depend on Jaebum's resilience and unbreakable will.

Face taut with worry, I reach forward. I feel him tense once my arms wrap around his midriff.

"Please, Jaebum. Don't risk your life." Jaebum places a hand on my head to comfort me.

"You know I can't promise something like that, baby girl."

"Lie to me a little?"

"You know I don't like lying, either."

"Then make sure to catch that bitch and put her where she belongs." He bursts out laughing and I retract myself. His laugh makes me smile, too.

I will never doubt him.

He's been gone thirty minutes. And these 30 minutes have been hell on Earth for me. I can't stop gnawing on my pen and scribbling little tornadoes on my sticky notes. I've watered my cactus and poked myself a few times in my shakiness. Jinyoung isn't even here to calm me down, having gone with Jaebum along with a few more officers. My toes feel sweaty and cold all at once. I've taken six trips to the break room to drink water.

I stand up, about to take my seventh.

"Hey!" Mark calls my name, urging me into his office. I anxiously stand in front of his desk.

"Yes?"

"Your pacing is making me anxious," he smiles.

"Sorry. I'm really worried."

"I know you are, but you have to calm down. Jaebum has done much more dangerous things." I frown and look at the ceiling, holding back— some extremely childish, dumb, stupid, irrational —tears. It makes me frustrated with myself. Curse my own overthinking and my own anxiety. Without Jaebum or even Jinyoung, my emotions control me.

I hear Mr. Tuan sigh. "Jaebum would kill me, but I think if you don't see him yourself, you might faint and die yourself." At once I return my eyes to him, shocked. Is he insinuating...

"Mr. Tuan?"

"I believe Jinyoung left his police car in the lot. You know where the keys are, right?"

He is!

"I won't be covering for you. It's my position on the line," he tells me sternly. Nearly vibrating in a mixture of anxiety and joy, I bolt out of the office.

"Thank you, sir!"

He shakes his head and leans on his desk.

Once I get to the parking lot and plop into Jinyoung's car, I review the floor plans of Ms. Kim's house. She was a stupid criminal without much foresight. Her house is only three miles from the station. Which only increases my anxiety.

Forty minutes since Jaebum left. Anything could have happened. In the blink of an eye he could— I literally shake my head and throw the papers down before gripping the wheel. Calm down. Don't doubt yourself. Jaebum will be fine. He probably already apprehended her and has Mulgogi safe elsewhere.

I try not to let the dark cloud engulf me, but I can't control it.

And even if I called her foolish for not having any foresight, it didn't occur to me to bring some kind of weapon. When I encroach on her apartment, I find that there isn't anyone here. Not a single police car in sight. Eyebrow raised, I park in the lot and blink. I grab the papers from the passenger's side.

I'm in the right place.

The apartment is on the second floor: 297B. However, her car is nowhere to be seen. As a matter of fact, there isn't even one car in the lot. It's peculiar... very much so. The area isn't off limits to the public, really.

...What's going on?

I watch the police car pull into the lot, silent, just how I asked. Exhaling through my nose, I watch the apartment door. All clear thus far. Everything is going smoothly. We can take the cat still, for confirmation of what we've been told.

"They've arrived, Jaebum," Jackson tells me quietly. I nod.

After getting the inside from HQ that this was, in fact, an insurance fraud from a gang, we were forced to stay far from the apartment. To think that Kim Sungjeong was involved in this. Mr. Jung was a poor fool, tricked by a foxy escort. All just a convoluted ploy to take his money before killing him, not leaving a trace.

Tsking, I keep my radio near.

"I have a message for you, Inspector." I bring it to my face in an instant.

"Identify your station."

"Infiltration unit."

"Receiving well, report."

"My location is on the corner of Chigo and Gomae."

My blood becomes cold. That's near here. As in almost arriving. As in not here yet. As in, that car is not the infiltration unit.

"WHO THE FUCK IS IN THE PARKING LOT THEN?!" Jackson flinches from beside me, catching onto the problem quickly.

"Uh, sir-"

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING?!" I can't even think about using code. That person is endangering their life. My heart is pumping. There doesn't need to be any more casualties— fuck, or deaths —than there's bound to be. This is gang on police force warfare. It's no longer a case of matricide. Leaning forward, I try to make out the police car number from the lot we are situated.

I can't concentrate; my vision is shaking.

"Jackson read that."

"It looks like...394." A three hundred series. Those belong to Mark's station.

"Fuck!" I slam my hand on the steering wheel, patience wearing.

"Don't get anxious, JB. Losing yourself won't help."

Practically growling into my radio, "Infiltration unit, relay a message to Lookout unit."

"Transmission completed, on standby, sir."Every second I sit is a second of building danger.

"Well?!"

"Relaying message... It's Jinyoung's."

"What..." I furrow my eyebrows. Jinyoung didn't take his car.

But my words, thoughts and breath stop in my throat.

I recognize those dainty hands and blue, pencil skirt even from a distance. My stomach drops to my feet once she is fully outside of the car. I'm so livid, livid at her stubbornness and lack of faith in me and the squad. Now she's in danger.

"Damn it all to fucking hell—fuck!"

Grinding my teeth, I grab my radio: "Going in, all units within radius."

Swinging the car door open, I sneak across the street to avoid revealing Jackson's position. But once I'm in the open parking lot I sprint. And she turns around, having the nerve to look shocked.

"Jaebum?" He grips my shoulders, anger pressed on his face.

"Do you know what you've done?" My shoulders begin to hurt from his harsh grip.

"Jaebum, you're hurting me..." I flinch. He softens and releases me. Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair, visibly trying to calm down.

"This isn't just a murder. Yes, Ms. Kim killed him, but she's an escort."

"What?"

"She's working for the Jajusaeg Nun gang as an escort. This was an insurance fraud and murder to steal Mr. Jung's money and frame his wife. That cat is the difference from an innocent woman being freed or locked up for life. Here." He gives me the papers with all the information they've gathered. I feel myself start to shake. Just what have I gotten myself into?

"Right now, we're in danger. For all I know, there's a sniper or something on our heads. This is gang on police warfare. Just being open in this parking lot is a risk. Let's move," he tells me as he grabs my hand and walks us near the apartments.

God. I'm so stupid. My knees barely hold me up. I don't really care if I die, but Jaebum... he's risking his life just by coming out of hiding to get me. I look up at him. Why can't I listen to him? He's always right. Not once has he steered me wrong and yet I'm here, putting our lives and potentially the rest of the officers' at stake. And I'm supposed to be a genius.

"Stay strong." He squeezes my hand. "I'm here. As long as you stay calm, we can figure out a safe way of getting what we need without anyone getting hurt."

And we are at the door of her apartment. My breath hitches. "Alright, I need you to crouch by the door and keep your eyes on our surroundings. If I scream, don't come inside-" I nearly choke on the knot in my throat. "-And report into my walkie-talkie. Jackson will be parked at the drugstore, tell him to bring back up." He unclips his walkie-talkie and gives it to me.

And then he takes his gun out of his holster. I only now notice how dizzy I feel and just how badly I want to turn back time to before I came to this lot. I hear him remove the safety. I steel myself. I have to. If not for myself, then for Jaebum.

He twists the knob; it's already open. His expression hardens. If anything, the fact that the door is open is worse than it being locked. They're expecting us.

"Seoul police. Come out now and no one will get hurt. We can settle this peacefully. This is your only warning."

The silence is deafening.

I could hear the creaking of the door, Jaebum's breathing and droplets of water from something leaking. My stomach flips when Jaebum starts walking in. I stare at him, eyes flitting wildly, hoping he'll feel my fear and return.

He doesn't and just continues deeper into the apartment. Once I can't hear his steps or breathing, I begin a mental scan of the apartment.

The walls are a white color with some overlapping paint, a sign of a poor paint job. The door has splintering wood; it has seen some wear and tear. It's surrounded by bushes and trees. A trail leads into a wooded area near the complex. It isn't a constructed trail, it's as if multiple people have gone back and forth through it. I take note of it mentally.

Outside of the apartment, there is a welcome mat. Oddly enough, the bristled mat has a wet spot. With curiosity overwhelming me, I swipe it with my finger. A clear, semi-sticky liquid. And then I bring it to my nose.

Kerosene.

I bolt out of my spot on the ground and see a small, almost invisible trail leading inside the apartment. Panic sets in and I throw what Jaebum told me to the wind. Running into the apartment, I look around the living space, my eyes and mind overwhelmed by the information overload.

Bags— black, full bags —litter the ground. It's obvious what is inside. On the counter, there are at least 7 pairs of keys. I grab a pair with a single key— likely the apartment key —and put it in my skirt for later. There's a recently used ashtray, the tip of a cigarette releasing the most minute traces of smoke. Ms. Kim never smoked. And the couches had stains.

Without a moment to think, I hear a gun cocking. I close my eyes and swallow my fear, emotions, everything.

A strange voice in my ear, "Should have listened to Mr. Strong Policeman, girly." My breathing picks up. "Scared, huh? Won't you turn around for me." I slowly do as he says, taking a moment to sneakily stuff the walkie-talkie into my sweater. It's a man I've seen on tv plenty of times. My expression morphs into fear.

"You..."

"I like that expression. I would gladly explore some more pretty faces, but I don't have time."

I only now notice Jaebum, who is silent as a lamb. He's perfectly fine, not a scrape on him, but then I notice why: he's staring at the lighter in Min Yoongi's hand. The notorious pyromaniac of Seoul's biggest gang. And he knows he has the upper hand.

"You have something I want." Yoongi suddenly grabs my throat, squeezing.

"W-what-?"

"Those papers! Give them to me." He lessens the pressure on my windpipe.

"I won't- give them to you." Jaebum tries to creep on him, but Yoongi flicks the lighter on.

"I hear you. Sit the fuck down like the dog you are."

Jaebum scowls.

"Growling like a mutt. Sad," Yoongi shakes his head. Then he returns to me. "Well, if that's the case, I guess I'll have to take you and the papers with me. Hm? How about it?" I shake in fear.

Yoongi twists me around and uses me as a shield. Jaebum raises his gun in that instant. Despite knowing Jaebum wouldn't shoot me, I feel lightheaded as I stare down the barrel of the gun.

"Don't shoot your girlfriend. Let's be civil." The lighter is flickering near my face.

"It was never civil."

"God, you're so fucking annoying. I need to take my leave." He drops the lighter directly on one of those kerosene lines and drags me along with him and outside of the apartment. The apartment very nearly bursts into flames. I watch on in horror.

"JAEBUM!" My throat rips out an agonizing scream. Yoongi pulls my arm almost hard enough to pop it out of its socket. We go into the forest, through that exact path I felt suspicious about earlier.

As I continue to distress in silence, Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"Stop whining. I wish it was that easy to kill that guy." I stare at his back as I follow him. He casually juggles the lighter in his hand. His pants are loose around his lanky legs. But something catches my eyes about his gait. When he walks, he puts more pressure on his left leg.

It's no wonder he didn't try running from us as soon as he saw us. Or... did he know I had the papers? Speaking of, he lifts them up to read them on occasion, as if to absorb the information.

We soon appear in an area littered with cabins in several states of disarray. As we climb the steps of a cabin, I notice bullet holes in the walls and sections of frayed wood. I shiver, knowing that was a sign of Min Yoongi's activities.

He slams the door open and announces himself, "I'm here! And I brought the police info!"

I stand near the door, touching the wood with my fingers. It gives a little. The building is old and judging by the frayed wooden posts outside, would easily burn if the dry wood caught fire.

"Hey. Get over here. Can't have you running off." After I return to his side, a tall man appears.

"Good. I think we— Who is this?"

"Oh, her? Just some police girl. She was with Jaebum."

To think I'm in the middle of a gang's nest, standing in front of the rumored leader. It sends chills up my spine. I could die at any moment or be subjected to anything they decide to do. Namjoon eyes me with curiosity.

Yoongi hands him the documents and he looks through them absentmindedly before turning to me.

"What should I do with you, hm?"

"If you don't mind, I actually had something in mind."

"What?"

"Jaebum seemed real keen on keeping her alive. Maybe she has some value."

"I'm following."

"We could lure him out, rile him up and BAM—!" He flicks his lighter and stares at the flames before turning to Namjoon.

"As much as I like the idea of getting Jaebum off our backs, with these papers in hand, we have enough to settle Sungjeong's court case."

"Ugh. So boring."

"We can leave this area and find a newer and better hideout. Let's not get greedy."

"Fine." Yoongi crosses his arms. "So what do I do about her?"

"Make sure she doesn't get into trouble. Otherwise, it's not my problem." Namjoon leaves us in the entrance alone. Yoongi glares at me.

"I don't really care what you do around here. You don't seem real bright, though, so let me give you some rules." I flinch when he gets close to my face.

"Don't run off. I'll find you and you won't like it. Don't go snooping where you don't belong. Don't come into my room." I can only nod as a twisted smirk morphs into his face.

"Good."

God fucking damn it.

"Damn it all! Fuck!" I punch the hood of my car, growling. Jackson is talking to the SWAT unit, who are prepared to search the area and take prisoners.

But who's to say I won't go in there myself.

"Piece of trash, Min Yoongi." He stole the most important papers in our repertoire. Those documents had more than enough evidence to convict Ms. Kim of the crime. And the incredible bonus of locking up some Jajusaeg Nun gang members for assisting a murder.

And now they can trash them. Throw them away and throw away any case against Ms. Kim.

My little mouse isn't safe either. They could be doing anything and everything to hurt her and I can't do anything to stop it.

"Don't look so down, Jaebum." A hand lands on my shoulder. I turn to Jackson's face.

"She will be okay."

"How do you know that? You don't. She could die and an innocent woman could be locked up. There's so-"

"Always the pessimist. What happened to the JB that loved drinking with me and sneaking itching powder into the squad captain's boxers?" I laugh. Then I get worried all over again.

"It's in my nature to worry about things outside of my control."

"Maybe put more trust in her. She's smart. You say it all the time."

"Sir," Jinyoung comes up behind me. "The SWAT team will move in as soon as they are ready." Teeth clenched, I close my eyes and try to find some patience.

"We can't afford to wait so long!"

At this point, I can't even find it in myself to care about the gang, or the case or any information.

I want my little mouse safe and in my arms.

I may be very obedient at work, but these people are not my bosses. It's entirely out of character of me to be so bold, but my desire to please Jaebum overwhelms my sense of danger. Pathetic, I'd say.

So the moment I saw an opening, I took it. With Min out and about doing whatever it is he does, I explore the huge cabin.

The house is barely livable and there aren't any decorative or personal items to be found. I suppose gang members don't care for trivial things like that. The floors are old and I cringe and pray every time they creak.

I hear stomping down the hall and gasp, flitting my eyes to find somewhere to hide. The walls— the floor— the couch— the walls-! Nowhere!

Then I try to look as natural as possible. The gang is pretty big, I'm sure they won't notice a new person? But I'm still in uniform! As I panic, the stomping grows closer and the floorboards get louder.

A bright idea— a figurative lightbulb appears above my head —formulates. I remove my jacket and wrap it around my waist and rip off my name tag and division badge.

Just in time, a tall, thin man spots me as he comes into the hallway I'm in. He smiles and looks me up and down. His welcoming expression instantly sets me at ease.

"Hello! I'm sorry, but I can't recall who you are..." his face is long and he looks comfortable, as if he's not in a gang.

"Oh." I steady my voice, "I'm a new member. Yoongi brought me in today."

"Oh! That's nice. I'm Hoseok." I introduce myself and shake his hand.

Then another brilliant idea pops into my brain.

"Actually, Namjoon wanted to see me. Can you tell me what hallway his office is?" He raises his eyebrow.

"Really? Are you sure about that, little lady? Namjoon doesn't see anybody. And a newbie? Definitely not." He crosses his arms. "You better start talking," he warns, any semblance of kindness gone.

Although I'm sweating and my heart is pumping, I force myself to swallow.

"It's about Sungjeong. Yoongi actually found the police papers. I think it's about that."

To my relief, Hoseok is calm again. Smiling, he pats my head.

"Don't scare me like that, Missy! I thought we had an intruder. Yes. That's true. I just got informed about that."

"Yeah..."

"Alright. Follow me!"

I nearly can't believe my plan worked so well. Hoseok motions me to follow him down the hallway he just came down. Then he points to a big oak door at the end of the hall.

"Namjoon's office is that fancy door down there. I have somewhere to be. If you get lost, ask for me." And just like that, he's gone.

Shaking my head, I walk down the hall. As if it was that easy. Such simpleminded gang members. As I near the door, I press my ear against it. Nothing. Not even a pen writing.

Taking in the hall, I notice a huge plant beside the door. For the most part, the hallway is bare with the exception of the plant.

Testing my luck, I knock on the door and dash behind the plant.

Again, nothing. No one is in there. However, when I go to twist the knob, it's locked. Obviously. But a police force member must always be prepared. I grab a thick Bobby pin from my hair and easily unlock the door.

You would think a gang leader would have a more secure office.

I sneakily enter before locking the door. The office is impeccable, documents filed on all the walls. It almost looks like a police file room. This gang leader is obviously very intelligent and organized. Being too curious for my own good, I look through the files and find so many interesting things.

Drug deals, theft, auto theft, assassinations and everything under the sun. These people were serious. As much as I could take in all this information, I need to be fast. I pull out my phone and take pictures of everything and a few odd documents.

Despite Namjoon's capabilities as a gang leader, his greatest flaw was underestimating my own intelligence and cunning.

Okay, maybe I'm stroking my ego a bit, but I've finally used my intellect for something useful!

I walk around and find the document very easily. It's right on top of his desk, some glasses beside it. He was looking at it earlier. Not wasting another moment, I fold it up and shove it into my shirt. When I leave the room, I lock it again.

No one is in the hall. Until I hear stomping again, but this stomping a lot more aggressive and with an odd gait.

Min Yoongi.

My heart sinks. He finds me and his expression is absolutely livid.

"Why did I know you would be trouble?!" He glares at me and I come forward, awaiting whatever he decided to do. A hand appears around my throat, squeezing. My vision turns black.

"L-let go..."

"Sorry, not really." And then he squeezes more, some strange sense of satisfaction in his eyes. I can feel my eyes almost rolling back. Blood rushes to my head.

"You've caused me a lot of issues. What should I do to show you your place?" My body grows numb by the second, but just before I black out, he releases my neck to let me breathe. I instantly collapse and breathe deeply to regain the air I lost.

"You can't be left in here. You're going in the shed." The man grabs me by my wrist, grip hard and yanks me up.

Shed?! My blood runs cold at the idea. I have to escape. Somehow I have to. The halls are empty, the floors are creaking. Yoongi's grip is impossible to get out of. We twist around so many corridors that I can't even focus on where we are.

One of my hands is free though. And he has a limp. His lighter is hanging slightly out of his pocket.

That's my best chance. I look at the back of his head, but he's so livid and focused on where he's taking me that he can't concentrate on anything else.

Hands fast, I take it out of his pocket. I flick on the flame and throw the lighter on the ground, the augmented flames of his lighter easily catching the dry and old wood on fire. He falters and trips on his injured leg.

"Fuck!" The flames grow easily. Yoongi grabs his ankle and growls at me. I dash down a random hallway.

"Get back here!" Surely his screaming alerted someone. But I can't think about that.

My goal is an exit. I keep running, adrenaline pumping. It feels like a maze, but my mind is in hyper-focus, eyes scanning and taking in my surroundings quickly. I've never felt so much mental clarity. I pass an area I recognize. Instinctively I go through an entryway and before me is the main entrance. It feels so close.

"I knew it!" The voice is familiar. Taking a quick glance behind me, Hoseok is standing there, but I only keep running.

"Get back here!" My nimble legs carry me out of the house, off the porch, into the woods. The walking trail making it easy to follow.

But I can hear the grass moving around right behind me. Hoseok is fast and catching up. You can only run so fast in uniform.

"You're so fucking dead when I catch you!" My heart and blood are pumping in my ear. I can't think.

I don't think.

I only run.

The walk that seemed so long when I was with Yoongi earlier is nothing now at the speed I'm running. My jacket is pulled off my waist. Tears fall freely from my face. Hoseok is right there.

"Stop now and I won't hurt you too badly!"

I can't. I can't stop now. Not when I'm so close. The trees are thinning and I can see the parking lot. Thank goodness. Only a little more and I'm safe.

But to my horror, Hoseok tackles me to the ground. We struggle against each other to gain control of the situation. He punches me in the stomach and I cough, wretching from pain. Some blood spurts from my lips. Taking advantage, he pins my legs beneath him. Every time he reaches for my hand or arm I bite his hand hard and we go back to struggling.

Then I remember: the house key.

I spit on his face, the blood covering his eye and distracting him for an instant, but that's enough. I rapidly pull it out of my skirt and as Hoseok pins my left arm, I shove the key into his side. He doubles over in agony and I take the opportunity to push him off and run into the parking lot. It's empty, but I remember Jaebum's words.

"Jackson! The drugstore!"

In a mad dash, I jay-run across the street— a few cars honking at me as I nearly get run over —to the parking lot full of police cars and even a SWAT team vehicle. I nearly cry from joy when I see Jaebum leaning against his police car, back turned.

"Jaebum!"

He turns around so fast, disbelief written all over his face. But it morphs into relief and joy. His arms open and I slam into him.

"You're safe. Thank God."

Once I'm in the safety of his arms, I fall down to the concrete. My adrenaline is gone. Jaebum follows and cradles me, running his fingers through my hair.

And everything hits me all at once. Tears stream down my face. He whispers nothing of importance— but extremely comforting —into my ear.

I was in a gang's hideout. I was kidnapped by a pyromaniac. Who knows what he was going to do to me in that shed. And Hoseok, he was ready to kill me.

He continues comforting me until my tears dry.

"It's okay, baby girl. You're okay. I'm glad you're here. You're amazing. You got out by yourself. I'm so proud. You deserve to rest." Jaebum begins to reach under my legs to pick me up, but I stop him by pulling the papers out of my bra.

I have to get this off me before it falls into the wrong hands again. He takes them into his hands.

His eyes are wide as he asks, "The documents? How?"

After calming down, I sigh and clear my throat.

"I tried being bold for once. One way or another I had to try or I would die in the process, so I went into Kim NamJoon's office and took as much as I could."

Then, I grab my phone and show him the pictures, his expression more amazed with each one. He turns to me, surprise melting into unbridled pride.

Jaebum grins, eyes crinkling and eyes sparkling. It sends a warmth into my chest.

"You're amazing, baby girl. I always knew it." I look down sheepishly. He places his hand on my head.

"With this, we can clear Mrs. Jung of her name, arrest Sungjeong and get the justice everyone wants." He looks at the photos again shaking his head in shock.

"And this... I don't even know, but there is so much here. Maybe we can finally get some leads on the Jajusaeg Nun gang."

After turning off my phone, he looks me deep in the eyes. He takes a deep breath and shoves me back into his chest.

"Jaebum?" I return his embrace.

"You are something else..."

"I love you," I mumble. And that's the truth. I can hear him smile— as peculiar as it sounds.

"I love you, too." He sighs, "I'm so glad you're safe. That's what's more important to me." He grabs my chin and tilts my head toward him. I blush furiously, our breaths lingering. Until he finally brings my lips to his.

My eyes close. Just taking him in. I've never felt so safe anywhere else. Our lips meld like the colors mixing on a watercolor painting, a beautiful mess that creates a new color. The feeling of his lips doesn't get hot like the day at the hospital.

It's soft and full of promises of the future.

When my mind is a mess, he is there to add to it. But he's there to put an order to my whirlwind. When I want to put myself in my hole, he crawls in with me. He brings a ladder though. When my heart is on fire, he stokes the flame. But he's always ready to put it out.

He is my balance, but he is also my gunpowder.

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