#i'll post a wip gif soon :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lo1k-diamonds · 4 months ago

Text

SX Seoul series | Tae's entry 💜 Paramour

PAIRING: idol!Taehyung x (f) reader (you can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You were born for the quick and glamorous life surrounding celebrities — they had their little dramas and breakdowns, and you were there to clean up the mess. But you have your own secret, and doing your job might get you in trouble with your paramour.

WORD COUNT: 6,2k

GENRE: secret relationship, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: jealousy, drunk driving (❗), dirty talking, teasing, edging, fingering, slight degradation, brattiness, Sub/Dom (Tae), semi-public, exhibitionism, almost caught, unprotected rough sex, nipple play, hickeys and bruises, post-orgasmic crying 👀

A.N. Sorry guys, busy birthday yesterday💜 NCT members make a cameo just because I thought it'd be fun 😋 The paramour stands for the illicit/forbidden aspect of the relationship, not cheating. This oneshot is also part of the upcoming @bangtanwritershq 'Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?' quarterly event!

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

You showed the badge hanging on your neck to the bouncer and waited quietly for him to cross-check your name. You glanced at the glacial blue striped lines above the club entrance while you waited. SX — the letters were so hot, that vapor was visibly emanating from them. You pursed your lips — you preferred them in red.

You rubbed your arms with a chill; it wasn’t snowing too hard yet, but you wanted to go inside where it was warm. He nodded and let you pass, and you smiled, hurrying inside.

Fortunately, despite having the day off, you were supposed to come to this label party, so they had your name. Of course, you were supposed to have leisurely done your makeup and hair, not rushed when called with a bawling demand, but you sighed.

You didn't bother hanging your coat and just crossed the dance floor to one of the private rooms where the sound was muffled enough for people to lounge, have a drink and talk. Yet instead you recognized the team circling a single armchair, and they moved to let you through with worry and relief in their faces. They were your team.

“Hey,” you called out, and as soon as Una saw you from where she was sitting on that armchair, she threw her arms around your waist, bawling convulsively. You eyed the stylists and makeup artists, holding her back while you mouthed, “Eunbi?”

Everyone shook their heads, and you sighed, giving up on it. She was supposed to accompany Una tonight so you could enjoy yourself for a change, but you were there now.

“Alright,” you said firmly, kneeling so you could look at Una clearly. She was easily overly dramatic, but there was usually a reason for it. “Tell me what's wrong. You know I can fix it for you, just tell me what it is.”

Una didn't hesitate, sniffling and smudging her makeup away as though a firefighter had come to rescue her. “He— He was— all giggly and close to her!!”

She hid again, crying on your shoulder next to your dress strap, that fortunately was black, and you sighed. You petted her head as you mused on how to fix this. He — Winwin, Una’s boyfriend. Her — another girl, inconsequential, anyone, it didn't matter. Una was a star, but she got insecure about their relationship way too easily.

You were musing on how to diffuse her breakdown when she pulled away to speak through sobs, “Unnie— Unnie—”

“Tell me,” you allowed gently, despite the way she was crying. Even her eyelashes were gluing together, but she was still like your younger sister.

“I want— to giggle— and be close to another man too!”

You did your best effort not to roll your eyes, and before you could get up and direct your team, she gripped your arms.

“Please! I'll behave! Don't send me away, just— I'll ask for only that.”

As if to convince you, she started to compose herself, reeling in her cry and wiping her face.

You sighed, “It's not nice to draw someone into this.”

“Pick someone from the label, someone nice. I'm friends with all of them, it's just pretend, please—”

She was going to start crying again, and you heaved a deep breath, holding her strongly in your arms for a beat. The senior manager would kill you and Eunbi if Una, the exceeds-expectations rising star, was caught upset and leaving the label party, but you weren't sure this option was better.

You pulled away when you felt her calm in your arms, then tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “Are you sure? You can't ruin someone's night just to make him jealous.”

“I'll behave, I promise,” she sniffled, and to her credit, you did believe her. “Choose someone nice, unnie. Maybe Jungwoo if you find him.”

Your eyebrow quirked at the name, and you nodded, getting up and instructing everyone to make her look like the star she was. You turned to her, “I’ll see to it. No more crying, okay?”

“Thank you, unnie.”

Her smile was angelical, and you only sucked in a deep breath before leaving the room to the main dance floor. The loud house music reverberated along your rib cage while you scanned the room. You saw the managers, the staff, the artists; you knew almost everyone and smiled whenever they greeted you. Your eyes kept searching and stumbled on Winwin, leaning on the wall, talking to a woman. His blonde hair stood out as he played with the straw of his drink, and you rolled your eyes. He was just talking to the woman. If you reacted like that every time your man whispered secrets into another woman’s ear, you—

“Hey!”

A hand on your arm almost startled you, but it was Eunbi, and you squinted, “Where the hell were you?”

“Una’s dog swallowed a toy, I had to rush her to the vet!”

Poor Eunbi. She was sweating, with her dark bangs gluing to her forehead despite the snowy cold outside, which told you she had raced here. This was turning out to be an even shittier night for her.

“Una texted me, saying she called you! I’m sorry, unnie!”

She bowed frantically, and you placed your hands on her shoulders, “It’s okay, calm down. I was coming here, anyway. Just make sure she doesn’t leave the backroom without calming down first.”

Eunbi nodded and was gone before you knew it, making your eyebrows twitch. Was it because you had managed to sleep a proper eight hours tonight that it seemed to you like everyone was out of it?

Your eyes pinpointed Winwin in the same position, with the same girl, before you kept looking for who you were truly searching for. Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed Taehyung with his friends, chatting casually. His jewelry was sparkling under the club’s lights, with his newly bleached hair in that warm color you liked so much. It fell like waves over his eyes, and you couldn’t help your smile. He looked good no matter what, but that was a favorite of yours.

Finally, you found Jungwoo a bit further ahead. He was hanging out with his close circle in a corner of the room, and you nodded, agreeing with Una. He was gentle and quiet, almost shy for an idol — he’d listen to her story and respectfully help Una through this.

So you made your way to him, smiling up to him when his eyes fell on you. His mouth stayed open, as if he had forgotten what he was about to say, and you smirked, “Long time no see! Can I join you for a moment?”

Taehyung almost did a double take when he saw you pass without even noticing him. His friends were casual enough to not notice and to allow him to train his eyes on you; where were you going?

He saw you sit next to Jungwoo with a huge smile, and his guts twisted. Why were the other people around you leaving you two alone? Why were you sitting so close to him, talking into each other's ears? Surely it was to hear each other above the noise, but it still made him close his fists. Jungwoo could surely take a whiff of your perfume every time he leaned in like that, so close to your luscious hair, and it just wasn’t sitting well with him.

Taehyung was about to walk over, do something he wasn’t exactly sure what, when you got up and walked away. That was enough for him to just go for it, ignoring his friends calls. All he could see was you, standing on your long smooth legs barely covered by a black tight dress, leaning on the bar counter to ask for the bartender’s attention.

“What are you doing?”

You turned, your eyes finding his on sheer magnetism. The corners of your lips raised, “Ordering drinks.”

You knew your mischievousness was slipping through, you just didn’t care. He leaned in a bit more, glancing around before speaking closely to you, “Are you having fun?”

You didn’t hide a grin, your teasing tongue peeking through before you chuckled, “My night was almost ruined, but it’s sure getting better.”

Whatever he was about to say got interrupted when the bartender reached you.

“One whiskey sour, one porn star martini, and one vesper.”

The bartender left and Taehyung didn't waste a second, leaning close to you, “I didn’t know you managed Jungwoo now.”

“I don’t. I don’t manage male stars anymore,” your eyes trailed over his silhouette from top to bottom before settling on his dark eyes.

Your head tilted to the side, inviting him to say something more, but you could see his hesitation. His eyes were low, not just thinking about what to say, but actually apologetic.

He looked around at the bar, lips twitching before he voiced quietly, “You’re going to drink?”

“I’ll take a taxi.”

You felt his body press closer to yours, if pushed by the other people wanting a drink or just to touch you, you didn’t know. Either way, your eyes fixed on his, acknowledging that the world didn’t exist when he looked at you like that.

But then the bartender placed your drinks in front of you, and Taehyung moved away, pursing his lips. You smiled at the bartender with a thanks, and grabbed the whiskey sour, “Here.”

Taehyung looked down at the drink in your hand pressed to his chest, then at you.

“For your mood,” you winked, before grabbing the other two drinks and walking away.

You handed Jungwoo his drink and left to get Una, and were expecting to leave them together and go on your merry way. Instead, Una insisted you stay with them, and to your surprise, there was no wailing about Winwin. On the contrary, the conversation was pleasant, and you finally had one drink comfortably. It was not the networking you were expecting to get done that night, but at least it was calm and interesting.

At first, you thought Una needed her unnie’s support, then that it would be best you stayed so things wouldn’t get awkward or controversial. However, right about when you wanted to question Una’s decision, she got up and confronted Winwin. Or so it seemed, and you sipped on your drink as she jumped on him to kiss him, barely letting the man breathe. You saw Eunbi race to deal with it and chuckled; fortunately, that was not your job tonight.

Jungwoo shifted in his seat next to you, and you finally turned to him with a smile, about to thank him for his help with Una when he smiled, “Would you like to dance?”

Taehyung’s whiskey sour didn’t last long, but his sourness did. How could it not, when you stayed with Jungwoo after Una left? A part of him stayed rational; you were hanging out with people, and you were around idols all the time. But you weren’t talking to him professionally, not anymore, since Una left to make out with her boyfriend in one of the backrooms. No, you were quietly chatting just the two of you, and Jungwoo was leaning into you again, touching your beautiful hair.

He thought he could hold himself back by looking away and turning a purposeful back on you, but then he saw it. Your hand settled on Jungwoo’s leg and his blood boiled.

The water bottle he was holding cracked as he closed his fist, grinding his teeth with all the things he wanted to do and say, but couldn’t. You got up with a small head bow and Taehyung smiled, ready to open his mouth and say goodbye to his friends, but then Jungwoo followed you. And Taehyung saw just red.

He shoved the bottle to the chest of whoever was trying to stop him, pushing them all aside to get to you. He gritted his teeth, growling in annoyance; all those people in the way, some trying to grab onto him and talk to him, and meanwhile you and Jungwoo were further and further away across the club.

A familiar voice tried to hold him back with an arm around his shoulders, and he shoved them back. He didn’t care where he was, who he was, or when. He gave no fucks about appearances, no fucks about staying quiet. All he cared about was you, and you were walking out of there with him.

He kept pushing people aside to get outside until he finally managed. His thoughts were incoherent, only getting to you mattered. You’d have questions, you’d tease him, but he didn’t care. He was justified, he—

He stopped right outside the club, noticing you standing with Jungwoo on the curbside. Taehyung opened his mouth, ready to call out for you, when a taxi stopped in front of you, and he staggered. He stopped breathing when you smiled mischievously at Jungwoo and stepped inside the vehicle.

For a second, his heart stopped.

Then you closed the door and waved goodbye, and Jungwoo waved back before bowing. And Taehyung took a breath, but growled all the same, and ran to get to the label's parking lot where his car was. He drank, so he shouldn’t drive, but he had to confront you about this. He was about to explode and it was all your fault.

As soon as he parked, he had no recollection of driving, only of gripping the steering wheel and shaking as he raced there. The tall apartment complex where you lived stood right before him, and he fought the seatbelt to get free and out of the car. He ignored the snow falling and rushed to your doorstep, fortunately without slipping, only to stumble.

You were there, outside, leaning on the wall and absentmindedly scrolling through your phone. Your eyes raised to his, then put your phone away, turning to the side to dial your code instead. He saw you push the door open, but when you turned to him, he didn’t move. He was so mad before, but seeing you like this made him realize that was not all he felt — he was hurt.

You held out your hand to him with a welcoming smile and when he took it, you dragged him to the elevator. After selecting your floor, you wrapped your arms around his waist and sighed into his chest.

“Una wanted to make Winwin jealous with Jungwoo,” you revealed, safely tucked now that he was holding you back.

He took a second to press his lips to your head, “Yeah, and Jungwoo was totally into you.”

You almost chuckled, but had the sense not to, “Nah, he’s just kind, and took Una’s drama. He was just thankful I was there to help.”

You could feel Taehyung nuzzling the top of your head, inhaling your scent, and you just melted. You thought he’d be mad about the whiskey sour tease, but having him hold you like this told you this was about more than a silly cocktail.

He sighed, “Una is making things difficult.”

You pulled back and grinned, “Well, it happens when I can’t manage my superstar anymore.”

You booped his nose playfully and he searched for sadness or disappointment in your eyes, which he didn’t find, to his relief. “True, but… Maybe…”

When his voice disappeared, you incentivized, “Maybe…?”

“Maybe you should tell her about us.”

Your eyebrows jumped, “Why?”

“Because—” He held back for a second, but your wide eyes were enough to unravel him, “Because Jungwoo looked more than just thankful and if she had stayed with you, he wouldn’t have tried anything.”

You smirked, “How do you know he tried something?”

“He did?”

You couldn’t hold a poker face and laughed, even as Taehyung’s expression was turning from surprise to annoyance.

“Una can't keep a secret and I like my privacy,” you explained, knowing he knew this. You were cautious about the fact, not just who your SO was. You knew how the media and your coworkers worked — you didn’t want to plant the subconscious idea that it was possible. The less suspicion, the better. “Besides… if I did that, then how would I make you jealous?”

Your smile turned sly, and he had no qualms pushing you against the wall, “Is that what you were doing?”

You grinned, “Let’s say I didn’t shy away from the opportunity.”

Despite the irritation in his eyes, it was hard to resist smirking and teasing him. You could barely contain a giggle when he leaned into your neck to bite you in what to him constituted a punishment. But to you, it was far from it. You raised your hand to grab and intertwine your fingers with his hair, and closed your eyes, letting the tingling run down your spine. You bit your lip; it was a matter of time until he noticed that the marks he had left a few days ago were gone, and—

He snorted and bit harder, sucking hard to create new marks, and your grin widened. Even when he squeezed you impossibly, pressing you to the elevator wall and nibbled over a sensitive spot, you didn’t stifle your moans, though you remained quiet. You were melting between your legs with each bite and groan, knowing he couldn’t let you go because he wanted you so much. Your attention was so focused that the elevator doors opened and closed, and you didn’t even notice.

His lips trailed down to your cleavage, and your nails sank deeper into his scalp. You bucked your hips against him, blood running hot in your veins, far beyond the point of teasing. Making him jealous was the least of your concerns; rather, having him kissing and touching you was everything you always wanted, and you’d ask for nothing else.

He squeezed your waist to his, knowing well what your restless hips wanted when they bucked into him, but he had other thoughts. He licked and nibbled across your chest and nuzzled to get under the fabric of your bra, reaching with his tongue for one nipple. You shuddered from head to toe, losing the strength on your legs. He held you and the wall behind you supported you, but you were beyond waiting.

“Tae,” you cooed, torn between pressing him to your chest or pulling him to kiss you.

It didn’t matter what you wanted, because he offered resistance, more aggressively suckling and nuzzling your skin on your other tit. You moaned, sure that you’d be bruised at that point, and it only made you gush more between your legs. You didn’t want him to stop, but if he could do that while fucking you into the wall, that would be great.

Since pulling on his hair didn’t work, you let go of one hand to scratch down the back of his head and nape. His groan gave you shivers, and you licked your lips; you were so ready to consume him in any way he wanted, but he was still stubbornly away.

His coat was heavy, but he only had a silk shirt underneath, so instead of trying to strip him, you let him ravish your chest while one of your hands sneaked underneath his shirt.

His breath shook against your wet skin, and you grinned, knowing that goosebumps covered you both — you, from his licks trying to reach your underboob, and him, from your nails grazing his lower stomach.

“Baby,” you called again, continuing your torture. “Let me touch you,” your voice was sweet, yet he ignored you. He wasn’t able to hide his groans, though, or how you made him shake, so you continued, “I want to touch you, you’ll feel so good…”

Your tone was a playful promise, yet all he did was sink his fingers and teeth more into you. You were sure your chest would be covered in hickeys, and despite your smile, you were getting restless.

So you moved your hand expertly down, squeezing it past his belt, pants, and underwear to find what you were looking for.

You squeezed his hard cock in your hand, and he crumbled a little, groaning louder against your skin. You let him rut into your hand for a moment before continuing, mercilessly, “Feel that, baby? You’re so ready for me,” your voice was sweet, but your smile was sly. Your poor baby was groaning and leaking into your hand, unable to shy away, and you knew you’d win. “To make me yours, right?” He bit harder on your clavicle, and you chuckled, amused by his annoyance. “Look at you pretending to be mad…” You leaned to whisper into his ear, “But you can’t stop fucking my hand—”

He suddenly moved away from your chest and wrapped a hand around your neck. He faced you so closely, your noses touched, but the dynamics weren’t necessarily inverted yet. Despite his hand on your neck or your vulnerability, his hard cock was still in your hand, and you knew how to make him kneel.

And you made that point by jerking him off a bit more, squeezing so hard, you knew it could have hurt anyone else, but not him. All he could do was fight back the pleasure with a mask of indifference, but you saw right through him.

“You’re dying to bury yourself inside me, aren’t you?” Your tone was taunting, and his dark eyes only riled you up more. “Come on, give yourself what you want most.”

He chuckled, and moved to whisper into your ear, “You think that’s you?”

You smirked, “I know it’s me.”

He was already biting down your earlobe; he hummed, “Maybe I should teach you a lesson.”

You let your head fall back to the wall with a laugh, “You’re welcome to try.”

Your laugh didn’t last long; with a hand around your neck, firmly pinning you, Taehyung took the other to raise your dress and reach your throbbing core. You bit your lip while you waited, defiance mixed with anticipation in your glistening eyes. He saw this too, and despite his harshness to pull aside your clothes and underwear and shove two fingers inside you, you could only crumble and pray not to unravel too soon. You moaned desperately, turned on by absolutely everything: his harsh fingers inside you, the sloppy sounds from your cunt, his firm hand around your neck keeping you vulnerable to him, your tits half out of your bra and dress, covered in hickeys, and his stone-hard leaking cock in your hand inside his pants.

His dark eyes on yours were unsurmountable walls, dead set on teaching you a lesson, and you smirked yet again. Despite his rough handling, he knew you loved it, and with just a few bucks of your hips, you’d unravel so fast—

“No,” he pulled his hand away. “Didn’t think I’d let you, hm? Not so fast.”

You didn’t answer; you were ready to beg and coo for more, but his fingers were inside you again in a second, making you keen. Your moans were desperate, and your face didn’t hide all the ways you were falling apart for him.

“You talk so big,” he whispered to your red cheeks. “But you fall so quickly. Look at you,” he whispered, and you couldn’t seem to open your eyes, so close you could pop any second if only he let you. “So close already, how pathetic.”

You only groaned, with your cheeks and chest burning at the insinuation, but as he added his thumb over your clit, you let go. You let your head fall back; you wouldn’t fight him anymore, you wanted him to take care of you in every way, take away every thought and responsibility, and to exist only to feel good in his hands, and make him feel good.

Your moans echoed in the elevator along with your obvious wetness, squishing around his fingers. You opened your eyes to see him, thinking how pitiful you must have looked, basically begging him with every eyelash bat to consume your very existence, but he didn’t budge.

Maybe he thought there was still defiance left in you.

“Think anyone else can do this to you?”

He bit his words between teeth, and you could only melt more, shaking with a wave that could start your rapture, if only he didn’t purposefully keep it at bay. You moaned, and let your free hand caress his cheek gently.

“Think anyone else can make you feel this way?”

Your eyes filled with tears, but you were so overwhelmed you couldn’t reply. His jealousy gripped your heart firmly, reaching a deep part of you that needed to feel wanted and desired unconditionally, irrationally. On the other hand, he was still rutting into your fist, edging himself just as he edged you, as though that torture was shared between you both. That was your Tae, your man, fulfilling you in ways you couldn’t even voice.

“Please,” you tried, but it was weak. You were trembling, melting, overheating, functioning at a primal level that could only feel him, nothing else.

You saw in his glistening eyes that he would crack too, especially as he nuzzled your hot cheek, “Think you’ll ever beg for anyone else like you do for me?”

“No, baby, please,” you stammered, supporting your hand on the back of his neck to keep him close.

The corners of his lips curved in the hint of a smile, but then he shook his head, nuzzling you, “No, baby.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, rubbing his thumb over your clit deliciously slowly just to make you keen unashamedly. “You told me to teach you a lesson.”

“I got it,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” He waited, seeing in your concentrated expression how you thought you would come, and he licked his lips. He knew you all too well, he’d keep edging you until he got what he wanted. “Tell me,” he insisted, drawing your attention again. “What have you learned?”

“I love you.”

You opened your eyes to tell him this, and his eyes flickered with a spark. He couldn’t tell if you were teasing him, pulling at his heartstrings, or genuinely crumbled and succumbed to anything that wasn’t your love for him. You smiled at his hesitation, knowing he had good reasons to think twice, and that was your undoing.

His fingers relented inside you, and he squeezed around your neck firmly, “You only learned that right now?” His tone was sharp, and you smirked, unable to stop yourself. Teasing him was too fun, even when you didn’t intend to do it, and having him all over you was the sweetest of rewards. He leaned over your lips, brushing them, “Such a smart ass you are.”

“You love it,” you bit back when he didn’t let you finally kiss him.

Your heart was confused between submitting to him or taunting him again, especially seeing how shaky and overheated you were, but then the world plunged. The elevator started going down and the sweats down your spine went from molting hot to freezing cold. You glanced at the panel, same as him — the elevator had been called back to zero from the fourteenth floor, where you lived.

You looked at him, ready to rationally deal with the situation, but all you found was a challenge in those dark eyes. Your eyebrow quirked quizzically, and his fingers restarted moving ruthlessly, making you jolt against the wall in surprise.

“I guess you have to convince me you’ve learned your lesson fast.”

You widened your eyes, the hot and cold shivers clashing on your lower belly, confusing you, “What?”

“You heard me.”

His eyes were dark and intent, and you almost cursed a cry. That was the serious Taehyung eyeing you intently. He wouldn’t forgive you if you failed, and you were totally adrift. The pleasure was undeniable, but so were the chills down your spine.

He bit down your neck, pushing his fingers so hard at your core, the contrast almost gave you whiplash. You wanted to scream; everything was mixing inside you in a storm. A minute ago you would have jumped and came hard, but now, with every inch the elevator went down, fear was gripping your heart.

“Baby, wait— stop— we’ll get caught,” you pleaded.

“I don’t care,” he pulled away to look into your eyes, and you fluttered around his fingers. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

His voice was softer now, as if he felt the same torment as you, and you were sure he did. He was still hard in your hand, reacting to your core around his fingers as though it was inevitable. So you sighed into his cheek, his scent bringing tears to your eyes still locked with his, sparkling the same as his. You belonged to him, always had, always would. You knew that, and he knew that, no matter how much you teased him about it. But you had never felt it so intensely, in your spirit, in your soul, in your bones. So owned, both in pleasure and otherwise. And safe. Even if that elevator reached zero and the doors opened, he would love you unconditionally always. Your love was undeniable, even when faced with the possibility of getting caught. Even if it would ruin your life, your career, or affect his. There was only the truth, and you wouldn’t keep it from him.

“I love you,” you said, and for a moment he thought you were still being defiant. “I love you, I belong to you, I’m yours. I want you to hold me for the rest of my life. No one but you will ever touch me, I love you so much—” Your voice wavered, and he instantly pressed his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that had a tear running down your cheek. As soon as he moved away, you still managed, “I don’t care about anything else.” His hand moved from your neck to your hair, holding your head up, so your glistening eyes didn’t hide. “I just want to be with you forever—”

His lips smashed yours while his hand darted from your hair to the stop button, making the elevator shake to a halt. Then he pressed your floor again, and as the elevator went up, so did you. His tongue was inside your mouth, showing as much desire and desperation as yours, while his hand restarted fingering you roughly. Only this time, it seemed like you were a firework ready to blast once the fuse ended, and you wanted it. You fisted him harshly too, your hand so wet you doubted if he hadn’t come already, but by his ruts, you knew he hadn’t.

You thought you were set to come with him when the elevator stopped, but as it stilled, so did Taehyung. He gave you a last kiss, took his hand out of you, and pulled your hand from inside his pants. The doors opened, so you thought you’d make your way to your apartment and finish things there, but he stopped you.

Right as you were passing the doors, he grabbed your arm and pushed you against the frame where the elevator doors had retracted into. He spread your legs with his so that one was outside, on your floor, while the other stayed in.

You sighed, “Tae?”

He pulled your hair to the side and kissed your neck, then glued your ass to his crotch. You both groaned with his hard cock rubbing at you teasingly, and he pressed himself fully to you, groping your tits harshly, “We’re not done yet.”

He sounded frantic as he kissed down your neck, squeezing and rutting into you so hard, you wondered why he wasn’t inside you already.

You raised your head to tell him that when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, through the elevator mirror. He had his eyes closed, lost in kissing every inch of your skin he could, while he used one hand to release himself. You moaned just at the sight of his juicy hard cock, and closed your eyes in anticipation while you felt him fumbling with your dress and underwear until the tip was pressed to your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, teasing you both while he got coated, and you only ground back into him.

He sounded desperate, but so were you, and nothing would stand in the way of feeling him again, of being part of him, loved by him, and used by him.

Your nails scratched the metal door frame, and you almost cursed and begged for him, but soon he was pushing himself inside you, and you groaned. He pushed further and further, giving you time to clench and feel the sting, adjusting to his girth, before finally tucking himself fully in, raw in your wet, soothing embrace. He tried bucking his hips, and you instantly keened, letting the stretch reminding you of how amazingly fulfilling it was to have your love inside you.

He didn’t wait a second to start fucking you in a demanding rhythm, grasping you by your hips, then waist, then chest, shoulders, neck, and even hair. His hips were ruthless, smacking into yours to fill you up every time, and you could feel yourself dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t stop moaning, and you didn’t stifle those down either, so drunk on him that someone could have showed and found you, and you wouldn’t have even noticed. All you wanted was the smack of his hips against your ass, the blunt shove of his cock inside you, pushing and dragging against your walls, poking you inside, turning your body into nothing but pleasure.

He leaned closer, changing the angle to hit your g-spot in a way that stole your breath, but not more than the words he grunted into your ear, “I love you so much. I fucking want you, you’re mine.”

You were ready to cry your love too, but then your eyes met through the mirror and the hint of anxiety in his hurt you deeply. His eyes quickly softened with his affection for you, but your heart couldn’t forget it. Teasing him was one thing, another was to actually hurt him or make him insecure about you.

“I’m yours,” you tried, though your voice was hardly your own with each moan. “Tae— I’m—”

His fingers had gone around your waist to rub your clit, and talking became nearly impossible. “I’m here, baby. I got you,” his voice was a groan. He was tucked so deep inside you that you knew he was holding his orgasm back. “I’m waiting for you,” he nuzzled your neck, and your eyes rolled back. “From the moment I met you, I’ll never stop— Never give up—”

Something in your lower stomach was about to explode, overheating you to the point you couldn’t breathe, until you snapped. You bucked your hips deeper, feeling the burst of your orgasm imminent, and you screamed. His fingers were the perfect push, and your core throbbed, sucking and pumping his pleasure out of him. He groaned into your neck, pressing you by your mound to sink on his cock as deeply as possible, and your nails scrapped the metal frame. His cock twitching deep inside you increased your sensitivity to the point that tears fell down your cheeks, despite the absolute bliss lighting up your body. The way he swayed his hips to jerk the last drops inside you, then pressed you closer to stay inside you and all around you, made you shake with a sob. That was how he loved you, attentively, completely, unconditionally. And you had stupidly hurt him.

“I love you,” he whispered incessantly as he held you and pecked your salty skin. “You’re everything to me, I never loved anyone like this.” You shook with a sob and his tone changed to worry, “Did I hurt you? Are you nervous?” He rubbed your hands and let you come further back into his protective embrace, “I’m sorry, baby. I wouldn’t ever let them catch us, I’d never risk your safety like that.”

You knew that, and it somehow hurt you more — that he’d do everything to protect you while you so childishly hurt him.

“I— I’m sorry,” you tried your best to stop your bawling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or suggest that I’d ever want anyone else, I— I love you!”

He held you even harder, knowing you need that, “I know, I’m not mad. I was… worried he’d impose himself or something.”

“Jungwoo… He wouldn’t,” you sniffled, and before Taehyung had time to let his jealousy resurface, you continued, “I told him— I told Jungwoo I have someone. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said instantly, nuzzling your cheek with a half hidden smile. “I don’t mind.”

You nodded, still sniffling and cleaning your face, but relieved with his kisses and snuggles. Then you pulled your hair away from your face, and brushed the back of your knuckles to his cheeky smile, “Let’s go home.”

203 notes · View notes

thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 18 days ago

Text

My next fic is a headcanon story featuring our beloved Peredhel Elrond! Featuring a bodyguard, single mother reader who hails from the Greenwood, and who has not been entirely honest regarding her goals...

The princess' guard (part one) (part two)

This is my first WIP after I had to delete a fic -for the first time!- because I was unsatisfied with it, and I'm terribly nervous because I don't want this fic to end up the same way! Finger crossed guys...

5500 words written already!

EDIT: 7500 words!!

EDIT: this project is temporarily on hiatus because I am working on another fic! I'll finish it soon, I promise!!

EDIT: 10000 words!! We're back on track people!

EDIT: 12500 words!!

EDIT: 14000 words!!

EDIT: 16000 words!

EDIT: 18000 words!!

EDIT: 19500 words!!

EDIT: Fic is complete at 20000 words!! It will probably be posted in two parts... as soon as I have chosen a title...

#The Lord of the Rings #The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power #The Rings of Power #Rings of Power #Elrond #Elrond Peredhel #Elrond x reader #Elrond Peredhel x reader #Robert Aramayo #Bellona's stuff

53 notes · View notes

once-upon-an-imagine · 10 months ago

Text

Any suggestions for writer's block? I just started writing a Charlie Weasley story and whenever I thought of it it felt so cool but as soon as I started writing it it was horrible 😂 and now I hate it but I don't want to delete it because maybe I'm just cranky and I'll like it or I can fix it later so idk what to do 😂😂😂😂

send me some DIALOGUES? or ask for some PREVIEWS?

this has helped in the past so idk maybe? you can see all of my WIPs here and you can ask for dialogues from any of these lovable goofballs! Thank you 😊😊

(I'd love some post-Azkaban Sirius Black but really just anyone)

#stranger things imagine #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader #marauders imagine #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #wolfstar x reader #harry potter imagine #charlie weasley x reader #bill weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #9-1-1 imagine #evan buckley x reader #eddie diaz x reader

106 notes · View notes

porcelainmortal · 3 months ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags, @onthewaytosomewhere @stellarmeadow @tailsbeth-writes and @thighzp!

Stripper!Alex chapter 2 is complete and in beta so I'll be posting soon. The entire thing is fairly horny and there are lots of spoilery bits, so I thought I'd go completely rogue and choose a few random, completely unrelated and out-of-context sentences to share. 😜 Enjoy!

“June, do we need all of these limes?”

“Ooh, didn’t I pick the perfect time to arrive!”

“You just had to have something in your ass.”

It’s one of the many things Alex loves about him.

“Surprise!”

“Fuck the rules.”

“Don’t do it, man. Everything changes when you move in with someone."

Passing my chaos along with tags for my beloveds! @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @bitbybitwrites @caterpills @cricketnationrise

@cha-melodius @firenati0n @faketrex @getmehighonmagic @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@iboatedhere @inexplicablymine @kiwiana-writes @myheartalivewrites @priincebutt

@rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @thesleepyskipper @theprinceandagcd @wordsofhoneydew and as always, an open tag for anyone that wants it!

#wip wednesday #stripper!Alex #chapter 2 #irl chaos demon #me not nora #although nora is in this #and june and pez #and liam and spencer and hunter #this was fun #out of context sentences #firstprince fanfic #alex x henry

30 notes · View notes

stardusthuntress · 9 months ago

Text

To Speak Without Words - Ch. 1

Crosshair x female!reader (she/her pronouns for now, might get spicy later)

Word Count: ~2k

Tantis Rescue AU! I’ve had this idea for ages, and now that S3 has rescued Omega and Crosshair it dawned on me that I never actually posted this one! Seems like there’s no better time to post it than now! (also: TECH LIVES!!)

Summary: (mini-series) Crosshair starts to fall for the woman he’s rescued with. She has learned to read him easier than just about anyone else he’s ever met. He learns her too.

TW: Crosshair has PTSD, and Hunter is still learning how to deal with it. Speaking of, it starts with a flashback to a torture scene… while Crosshiar is still in Hemlock’s custody (well, Hemlock thinks it’s more like ownership, but who needs his opinion anyways); I do mention that they both get back in the fight later, but it’s not a big focus, comparitively

A/N: So, I’ve had this for ages, but I thought I needed more to it before I posted it… turns out it’s pretty complete as is! And now that we’ve actually gotten to see the Tantis exfil and Crosshair and Omega return to the gang, I realized I really needed to just post the darned thing! I just want to say, I didn’t change this to fit anything from S3, it’s been written like this for ages, I just fixed some typos before I posted it, so S3 has not been an influence here!

PS. This is my FIRST Crosshair fic on here!!! WHOOOOOO!!!

PPS. I promise I'll get back to the "Right Attire" posts soon! Just needed to get this one out of my WIPs!

Crosshair banners from @/djarrex, hyperspace banners my own!

He’s barely conscious. Voices enter the room. All are familiar, but not in a good way. But only one has a name he can vaguely remember, something to do with something deadly, like a poison… Hemlock! That was his name. The name sank like a rock in his mind, and took his stomach with it. Nothing good was coming, that was for sure.

But one was new. A female. She seemed as upset as his stomach felt. But despite how queasy he felt, this he needed to see, to understand why she was here and whether he knew her.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. At first, everything was a blur… gradually, his eyes focused on her face. He’d never seen her before, but the fear and pain he saw on her features was more than familiar… and then the memory faded…

Snippets of other memories flash through his mind, all out of order. His mind is beginning to block out large chunks of his captivity…

Hemlock’s voice broke through the haze of it all, “I see those paternal instincts your batch mates displayed still exist, but unfortunately, I need the little girl for another experiment.” He turns to the TK’s standing guard, “Remove her from the room.” Then turns back to Crosshair lying on the table, “Let’s see what other animalistic emotions you tend to display. I know you recently gave up your disdain for, what did you call them, ‘Regs’? How about the civilians you thought you were protecting?” Hemlock once again turns towards the guards in the hallway, “bring the woman in.”

Flashes of moments of both of their agonies as they both did their best to conceal their ‘animalistic tendencies’, as Hemlock put it, flash through Crosshair’s mind. Doing their best not to become attached to the person at the other end of the table, but the need to protect them was as inevitable as if they had been sharing a bunk.

She’d been dozing off against her corner of the cold, hard table, sitting on the floor, arms chained to the corner above her.

Crosshair was sitting across from her, attached to the foot of the table in much the same manner, doing his best to stay awake while she slept. They always took turns, so they’d have warning when Hemlock showed up.

She woke up with a start when Crosshair nudged her with his foot. She looked at him, bracing for bad news, but he simply nodded towarads the door.

“Shield!” Crosshair announced, he could see the corridor more clearly than she could from his spot at the foot of the table.

She reacted instinctively, knowing that word meant protecting her face and neck as best as she could. No sooner had she done so than the wall that had been blocking her view of the corridor was blown away in a blast that rocked the whole room.

When the dust settled she found a rough-looking man staring Crosshair down.

Her head was still ringing from the blast, but it seemed like the man was mad at Crosshair.

Hunter looked down at Crosshair’s battered form, leaning wearily against the wall. “One question for you brother… why? Why did you aim it at me before rescuing the kid?”

There was a pause, while a disgruntled man with a device wrapping around the back of his head knealt down and began drilling away at the cuffs restraining Crosshair.

“I could ask you the same question.” Came Crosshair’s venomous reply.

Both men tensed, like they were preparing for a fight.

“NO!” She shouted, tugging against her restraints, reaching for Cross with her feet in a meager attempt to shield him from the wrath of the long-haired man.

“Here, lemme help you, little lady,” a voice spoke up from beside her, and thick arms reached around her and took ahold of the cuffs around her wrists, easily ripping through the restraints anchoring her to the table, snapping the cuffs in half without hurting her wrists at all. But she barely noticed, as soon as she was free she launched herself across the room and put herself between Crosshair and the tattooed man.

“NO.” She said firmly. “Don’t hurt him.”

“I wasn’t going to, Sweetheart. He’s my brother. Just wanted to knock some sense into him, that’s all.”

“Don’t. Touch. Him.” She backed up towards Crosshair, stumbling, barely able to keep herself on her feet, until her back bumped his chest. Crosshair’s hand found her shoulder, and she knew it was an attempt to steady them both.

“I won’t hurt him.” The tattooed man said. “I promise. I’m Hunter by the way. What’s your name, Hun?”

Crosshair’s grip on her shoulder tightened. A warning. Both to her and Hunter. Reminding them both that she had Crosshair’s protection.

Hunter raised his hands to emphasize his point, “I won’t hurt either of you. But we gotta get you both out of here, it’s a long way, and neither of you look so stable on your feet.” He held out a hand in offering, but the two clung tightly to each other. Strange. Crosshair prided himself of never needing anyone, even his brothers. Clearly, they were used to only having each other and a hard time. Hunter retracted his hand. “I’ll be with you the whole way, I’ll do my best to catch you if you fall.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Crosshair. He’d never told her about his squad, but Hemlock had done his best to pry information about them from him. She knew who they were, and that Crosshair refused to tell anyone about them, but she didn’t know why. She didn’t know if he still trusted them. One nod was all it took to confirm that they were ok, but the anger in his eyes, as he stared Hunter down, told her volumes.

Days later, Crosshair and Hunter end up in a big argument, no one caught how it started or why exactly, but she can’t stand it. She has to step in.

“But you still don’t SEE him, Hunter!”

“You wouldn’t know. You weren’t there.” Hunter defends, his words heavy with his own pain.

“I know— “

“—She knows.” Crosshair’s reply is curt, angry, and pained, and Hunter notices he won’t hold eye contact anymore, but he’s not sure why. He thinks it has to do with that annoying need to get attention only to ignore it when he does have it.

“Hemlock had security camera footage,” she says quietly.

Hunter’s cold, angry exterior begins to soften. “I take it he used it against… when he…uhh…”

“Sorta,” she confirms.

Crosshair is staring pointedly at one spot on the ground. There’s nothing there. But he can’t look at anyone right now. Not when thinking about what the two of them went through back there.

She puts a hand on his arm.

He tenses beneath her touch, but doesn’t push it off.

She steps forward, slowly, and leans her head against his temple.

“We’re both safe now,” Hunter can hear her whisper to him. “I’m okay now.”

What was that second thing she’d said? I’m okay now? Hunter’s mind was reeling. That wasn’t what he was expecting her to say. Had he heard her right? For once, he questioned his heightened hearing.

She turns the conversation back on Hunter to take the attention off of Crosshair so he has a moment to breathe and return to himself.

“Hunter, listen, I know you want Crosshair to communicate more. But you know Crosshair prefers to use actions to communicate instead of words. And yet when he does use actions to communicate, you ignore them.”

Hunter is stunned into silence. He has no idea what to say nor what to look for.

She continues, “You said he aimed his blaster at you before rescuing Omega from the wreckage, and yet you did the same thing back in the training room, right before they destroyed everything.”

She still pets Crosshair’s head and neck, as he hides his face in her neck, “You said Crosshair didn’t care about any of you, even the kid, after he chose the Empire, and yet he still managed to get a message to you, plan 88, remember?… he was caught and tortured immediately after.”

On her shoulder, she can feel Crosshair’s breathing returning to a normal, slower pattern, but he still needs more time, so she continues, “You know Crosshair never misses his mark, he keeps his target in the crosshairs, hence the name. And yet, whenever he found himself fighting against you boys… well, you’re still here. Doesn’t that tell you a lot?”

Hunter is staring at his brother now, worry on his face as Crosshair begins to surface from the woman’s shoulder, but she’s not done yet.

“Do you know how long he waited on that platform on Kamino before the Empire found him? Do you know what it’s like to have that much time alone with your thoughts, and yet he still warned you with plan 88. And you weren’t there when he disappeared in the ice and snow on a frozen world, returning a few days later nearly frozen to death with a dying reg on his shoulder, and then ending his commanding officer when the reg died because no one gave him medical care.”

Crosshair’s eyes were misty and distant as he turned his body towards Hunter, though he still refused to look at him. “He saved me first.” Was all he said.

Hunter stepped forward slowly, placing a hesitant hand on Crosshair’s shoulder and raising his eyebrows to tell him he did want to hear more.

“I stepped on a mine. He saved me first. We were the last troops stationed at the outpost.”

“Just two men to protect an entire outpost?” Hunter asked, trying to understand what his brother had gone through and what the empire’s strategy was in it.

“Raiders wiped out the rest. Empire refused to send more. I was the last—” but Crosshair’s voice broke on the last word, he couldn’t finish it.

Hunter stood there, confused and startled. He’d never seen Crosshair like this. He’d seen him mad and upset as a cadet, but never like this.

The woman gently tugged Crosshair back towards her so she could whisper in his ear.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re still here to remember him, to remember them all. Even the ones you never met. I know we can’t get them back, but we can remember them and what they mean to us, regardless of whether we tell anyone else about it.”

He nodded, and once again hid his face in the crook of her neck as fresh waves of emotion silently racked his body.

Hunter watched, helplessly. He didn’t know what to do. Until she yanked him over by his wrist, and dragged him to sit down on the floor with Crosshair between them.

Unbenounced to the three of them, the others had been hiding just out of sight, but close enough to listen in. Tech got up from his spot, crouched beside Wrecker and Echo in the dark hallway, and quietly walked over to the tangle of limbs. Without saying a word, he took off his chest plate and sat down behind Crosshair, their backs pressing together.

Crosshair did not react, nor give any signal of acknowledgment, but he didn’t need to. Right now, he just needed to let it out.

After a moment or two, Wrecker and Echo entered too, each doing the same as Tech, joining the group without saying anything, just there, leaning against each other. Even little omega emerged from her room and snuggled in between Hunter and cross, Lula tucked in her arms.

It took Hunter a long while to think through what he could say that would help, if anything actually could… until he finally settled on a simple sentence, hoping it would be enough.

“I’m so sorry I was so blind to what you were trying to say, Brother.”

Crosshair’s grip on Hunter tightened.

Hunter took that as a good sign.

“I’ll try to do better,” he offered.

They woke in the morning, still in a giant cuddle pile on the floor of the ship….

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself!

#crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #zenith writes

66 notes · View notes

penny00dreadful · 1 year ago

Text

So... some of you may have noticed my fics have come to a screeching halt the last couple of months which is not like me and I am here to explain myself.

Babygirl, I have been preparing.

The end of this month is my 1 year anniversary of posting in this fandom, of posting any of my work online after not doing it for like fifteen fucking years and it has brought me so much incandescent joy, I decided I had to do something for it.

(I've also hit like... several milestones which is fucking insane like you all know I'm just some cranky bog witch, right??)

I have been working on my WIPs for over the last two months. All... holy mother of god... like nine of them???

Some of these have been completed, some I am still writing and some are mostly done.

So starting from my anniversary date, 23rd October, every second or third day, I'll be posting a chapter of something.

I have so much material built up this shit could go on until 2024

@hbyrde36 called it my own personal Penny00Dreadful BigBang... and yeah kinda! 😅

I wanted to do this to show just how much I love this community. Your kind words, your support, your unhinged ramblings, your obsessive love, your talent (for free??) it's all amazing it's so amazing and I wanted to explode forth with my love for it so I figured why the fuck not do this stupid idea??😅

All of these will be posted both to tumblr and AO3 so subscribe over there to keep updated or follow me here!

OH! And let me know if you wanna be tagged! If you wanna be tagged for a specific fic or for everything I'll add you, whatever you want.

You've made me so happy and so warm for the last year. The way I know if I'm having a bad day I just need to hop onto this side of tumblr and everything will be peaches and gravy again.

I love you guys so much. 😘🖤

Updated Schedule - (18th Feb 2024)

Fic list with blurbs below the cut, this will (roughly) be the order they're posted in:

Return of The King - COMPLETE

Steddie Vampire AU with a twist! Vampire Steve comes back after falling to the bats. There is two more chapters left and those chapters have been completed.

Comeuppance - COMPLETE

Dustin just wants Steve to be happy. So he tries to parent trap him with Nancy. Clearly they should be together. But Steve's heart doesn't even seem to be in it at all! How is he so bad at this? And Eddie is being less than helpful

Rookie Mistake - COMPLETE

My Steddie Established Relationship Spies AU oneshot that will have a multi-chapter prequel fic coming very soon after!

Eddie is "retired" and Steve has been injured on the job, so he's supposed to be taking it easy. How hard could a walk to the gas station be?

Before He Cheats - COMPLETE

Songfic! Carrie Underwood - Before He Cheats

I literally have no excuse for this one. The rotted brainworms were behind the steering wheel with this one.

One evening, Eddie gets a call from some guy named Steve dropping the news on him that his boyfriend has been cheating on him. With this Steve person and Steve had no idea up until that day.

And Eddie rarely takes that shit lying down.

Steddievember Smut - COMPLETE

No Nut November is here! One can play however he wants. The other just has to wait for December to roll around. I have no other words to describe what this will be, it does what it says on the tin. I blame the STWG discord server. Currently we're looking at four little ficlets for this.

Cat and Mouse - COMPLETE

The Steddie Spies AU Prequel! How they got together and the extreme ups and downs their enemies/rivals to lovers journey goes through. I had so much fun with this one.

And They Were Roommates! - COMPLETE

omg they were roommates.

Steve and Eddie don't hate each other exactly. They just... tolerate each other. But one night Eddie doesn't come home for hours. Long after he's supposed to and it's not like Steve is worried or anything... he's just... concerned for a fellow human being... that's all.

Through The Valley - IN PROGRESS

Post-Apocalyptic AU. Eddie, Dustin and Nancy have a nice little community of survivors outside of Hawkins that they take care of, surviving day to day. Everyone's a little broken, missing the rest of their Party just hoping that one day they'll find each other again.

Devotion

Dungeons and Dragons AU. Steve is the golden boy of the small town of Hawkins. Harrington in name and now a Paladin with his very own oath to hunt down the Bard, the witch Eddie Munson and bring him back to justice under High Priest Henry Creel.

129 notes · View notes

hgejfmw-hgejhsf · 8 months ago

Text

Six Sentence Sunday!

I am SO far behind on the WIP games I've been tagged in this week, and I promise I'll be back on my usual bullshit in the week to come! It's been...a pretty big week for me personally, haha, in a couple of really great ways, concluding with a visit to see my parents, hence me being a bit quieter than usual. But I promise to be back at it next week!

For now, though, I DO have exactly six sentences for you, from a fic that I told y'all several weeks back was almost finished and would be up soon, and look at me, sitting on my throne of lies haha. At any rate, I am looking forward to finishing this one and getting it out into the world (along with chapter 4 of At the end of a bar I'm so sorry please don't hurt me it's coming soon).

Henry smiles at the thought. Alex, with his furrowed brow smoothed by the kiss of an early summer breeze on his skin. Alex, laughing loud and open at some no-doubt embarrassing anecdote Percy has shared from Henry’s uni days that has both of them giggling and stealing glances at him. Alex, free from waking at his desk, frantically scrubbing ink stains from flushed cheeks, splashing cold water on his face, and slipping hot coffee from Henry’s outstretched hands as he stumbles out the door before the sun has risen, only to return long after the moon has taken its place among the stars. Alex, gleefully dumping the contents of his rucksack into a barrel in the backyard and setting it aflame as Henry gently removes the lighter from his hand once he’s satisfied that the papers and documents aren’t going to survive the ceremonial burn. Alex, returned from the rigors of law school, the eternal light inside him dimmed but not doused, refreshed and refueled on this particular night by the company of those he loves most and who most love him.

No tags yet (and guess what this post isn't scheduled, I'm actually awake at the time of posting for once), so behind the cut will be my list of lovelies (along with an open tag for anyone else who comes across this and wants me to read what they're working on!)

@adreamareads @affectionatelyrs @agame-writes @anincompletelist @bigassbowlingballhead @cactusdragon517 @captainjunglegym @cha-melodius @cricketnationrise @duchessdepolignaca03 @eusuntgratie @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @leaves-of-laurelin @leojfitz @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @ninzied @nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @onthewaytosomewhere @priincebutt @rockyroadkylers @ships-to-sail @songliili @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @suseagull04 @taste-thewaste @theprinceandagcd @thinkof-england @typicalopposite @vanillahigh00 @violetbaudelaire-quagmire @whimsymanaged @wordsofhoneydew @zwiazdziarka

#six sentence sunday #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my fics #my wips #my writing

54 notes · View notes

bibbykins · 2 years ago

Text

Moonlight Reign Ch.1

A/N: Instead of forcing myself to focus on one series at a time, I'm planning to write what sparks joy to write in the moment and post it as I go! Hopefully this will clear some wips and help me feel less disorganized lmao! Not to say I'm not working on THB, I def am I just want to have something to post as I work on THB and the bigger projects like the LWAB fics among other things! So (hopefully) I'll keep these chapters limited to 5-7k, but we'll see lol pls enjoy and send me asks I thrive on them and so does my motivation!

And a huge thank you to my wonderful B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading ily!!

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.7k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior not rlly in this part but soon, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, stitches, drunk Jungkook, tackling, pinning someone down, mention of open relationship, poly is the norm is this au

“It’s time to go now.”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Five years after the fall of the underground power family, Moon Corporation, people still suspect an even more powerful company has taken their place since…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“It’s… so red…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“The exposure beheld more answers than questions, but on the five-year anniversary of the suicidal explosion that killed the head, Moon Byungyeol and his daughter, the elusive green-haired girl who was 18 at the time, colleagues mourn in secret and establishments fear an anniversary heist or something worst than last year as the date rapidly approaches…”

1, 2, 3, 4

“Locals have several theories on the big conglomerate that now controls Seoul’s business, underground and above, with the mafia organizations and gangs running rampant, people fear the government is under their thumb as well…”

1, 2- SHUT UP

You inhaled deeply as if just surfacing from the drowning body of water residing in your brain. Your fingers stilled from the tapping, a desperate attempt to make you surface, a sorry technique your brief stint in therapy drilled into you. Maybe having nothing led to illogical personal connections with a number. Of all your training as an heir, it was the mundane basic curriculum lessons that fascinated you the most. You were never good at math, but you loved to be perplexed by the numbers. It was a humbling experience, and in your fruitless calculations, four was always the easiest to wrap your head around. Of course, you didn’t know how humbled you’d be until you were a 20 year old trying to figure out how to do middle school math. Your education left much to be desired growing up, but you still enjoyed learning.

You used to be convinced four was too perfect of a number for such an ugly world, and though you let go of the notion with your past life, it didn’t change that it was a world you had to feign blind to now. In your youth, four was a beautiful result of a simple equation, a funny origin to big numbers. It was a warm hug among the violent reactions when you’d get questions far below your intended grade level wrong. In a world where stuffed animals were banned from your childhood room, the number four was all you had. You didn’t particularly like how pathetic that made you feel, but it didn’t change how much it helped you on days like these.

Your palms retracted from their firm placement on the wall you leaned on, relaxing you. Releasing your slightly curled fingers, you stifled a bitter laugh at the desperate attempt to grasp onto something. It was always so degrading to scrub off the marks your acrylics made along the wall, but the stiletto nails made taps loud enough to bring you back. It was an absolute mystery how the school you worked at let you get away with these.

Your little episode was finished as you settled your mind with the news continuing to drone on. You massaged your jaw, sore from the subconscious clench you were cursed with. You blew out a sigh as you felt your face and nodded when no tears were felt. Your phone buzzed, alerting you to the time and you groaned. Your damn neighbor would be here any minute now.

Jungkook wasn’t a mean guy by any means, quite the opposite. He was extremely insistent on your well-being, so much so it bordered on doting, and such behavior made you clam up. You didn’t know how to respond to his fussing over you. Hell, you didn’t know how to respond to most interactions outside of your old family business for a long while. That was just one of the many things he taught you, and he never once lost his cool doing so. He was patient with you, and you didn’t know how to thank him for it.

You both had been in the same class when you attended university, and while you were fine with letting your temporary acquaintanceship go no further than asking for notes or the occasional study session, he was a force to be reckoned with. You just kept running into him and when you moved here and found he was your next-door neighbor, you knew there was no getting out of it. He was going to be your friend. Although, you never understood why he wanted to be so bad.

Cut to a whole year after you both graduated, and it still didn’t make any sense. You both were polar opposites in a lot of ways. He was the regular party boy always at clubs and coming home at ungodly hours of the night. Meanwhile, you were usually in bed by 11:00 pm and only left your apartment for the job that barely covered your rent. Needless to say, you weren't exactly a social butterfly, so if you found one friend in Jungkook, you figured it wouldn't be such a crime.

However, having Jungkook as a friend meant having a weekly dinner with him as he mooched off of your TV and you mooched off of the food he paid for. It was an even enough exchange. Plus, it was nice to talk freely, or well, as free as you've ever been able to, even if just for a little bit.

You faced the mirror, patting down your hair, thankful for how much healthier it was without the cheap dye job you had done yourself when you were 14, “That green didn’t suit me at all,” You mused, fixing your hair, “Plus it nearly ruined my hair.” You murmured to no one in particular, keeping track of your speeding thoughts as you settled back into Earth.

Jungkook knocked on the door and you nodded to yourself, “It’s open!” You called and sat down at the table as he walked in, take-away bags in his hands.

“You really shouldn’t leave your door open like that, you know.” He tsked like he always did. It just made sense to leave it unlocked when you knew he was coming, especially if you needed to run to the bathroom so you could finish crying before facing him. Of course, you haven't had to do that in a while, but better safe than sorry. Your issues, for lack of better term, were no secret to Jungkook, and you both knew it, but you liked to avoid having him see you at your most vulnerable when you could help it.

You simply shrugged as you helped him unpack the food, “We’re the only ones on the top floor.” You reminded him, “it would be quite silly of a criminal to come all the way up to the 20th floor.” You chided.

“Still.” He tried to argue but quickly gave up. Jungkook knew by now that you could take care of yourself, but sometimes you wished you’d let him do it for you more often. However, he let this potential argument go, this time. He looked around and narrowed his gaze at the TV, “Why do you still have the news on?”

You paused and looked up from your food as it prattled on about your family, “I guess I forgot,” You forced your casual tone, “Did you get-”

“Syndicates, huh…?” He echoed the news reporter’s words, eyes fixated on the screen with a curious look, “The news is so weird with this stuff.”

The chopsticks in your hand stilled. You wanted to say that the syndicates were even weirder since they were the ones that probably signed off on the script. As a little girl, that was the first thing you had learned, how to play chess outside on a park bench, how to play chess crushing people in your hands as you moved them. It had all been the same to you for far too long.

“Like I care, it’s just background noise.” A lie, you hated lying, but it was something you had to get used to doing for the sake of your safety.

“You aren't scared of these guys at all?” Jungkook looked at you like you were crazy, although his eyes didn't match the rest of his face's intensity.

Shaking off the weird notion, you rolled your eyes, “A world without you buying me dinner is pretty spooky but that,” You gestured to the TV, “Is a cheap haunted house in comparison to the hell of making dinner or worse, ordering it myself, on a Friday night.” You giggled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Is that all I am to you? A sugar daddy?” He asked in mock offense and you nearly spit out your drink.

You swallowed roughly before glaring at him as he laughed, “If you’re my sugar daddy, I need a new one.” You retorted and his laugh died while a childish pout settled on his face, “I mean, all I get is a measly dinner once a week and I still have to work and pay my bills?”

“Well, what do I get, huh?” He crossed his arms, and it made you chuckle. Laughter had never come easy to you growing up, and it still had a hard time coming to you but after years by Jungkook’s side it was easier than ever to do, “Where’s my sugar?” He thrusted his cheek toward you, tapping on it with his index finger.

You rolled your eyes in spite of the flutter in the pit of your stomach and pushed his face away with your index finger, “My presence is your sugar, dummy.” You teased and how easy it was to be human around him made you smile wider, “Plus I let you watch your silly little shirtless men.”

He clicked his tongue, “First of all, if you’re going to call them shirtless men, at least call them hot because look at him.” He pressed a button on your remote and his favorite fighter, Park Jimin filled the screen, “Second of all, it’s literally fewer syllables to just say MMA fights.”

You took a bite of your food and shrugged, “Don’t you have, like, a million boyfriends? Wouldn’t you make them jealous drooling all over Jimin?” You challenged, vaguely remembering Jungkook saying he had more than three boyfriends at some point. Not that it was surprising, most people had at least two significant others. Unless they were you, of course. You had no one to talk to but the man sitting in front of you, forget about a significant other. “He would make me pretty damn insecure.” You chuckled.

Jungkook scrunched his brows at you, “Six.” He corrected, mirth filling his eyes already.

You looked from the TV to him, “Hm?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I have six boyfriends, thank you very much.” He stated matter-of-factly, and you rolled your eyes at his tone, “Why? Are you trying to give me seven significant others?” He feigned a scandalous gasp, “Well, the relationship is open, you know, so I guess I could pencil you in–” You cut him off by shoving a piece of chicken in his mouth with a glare. The teasing made your chest seize for a split moment when faced with his teasing smirk, so this had been the best way to shut him up.

Jungkook had always been a flirt, he often relished in teasing you to see how embarrassed you would get. Thankfully, over the years you had gotten used to it. You had already known his relationship was open since he mentioned how often they’re all apart, but you didn’t care to entertain that kind of intimacy with Jungkook even in your thoughts these days. It was just better that way.

“Ha, ha, we got a comedian.” You deadpanned and before you could say anything else, something on the screen caught your eyes, “What the fuck?” You mumbled.

“What?” Jungkook inquired as he looked at the TV, swallowing the food you fed him.

The camera had panned over the crowd and over an eerily familiar face poorly covered with sunglasses. The etching of a scar peeking out of the cheap frames told you all you needed, though. That was your uncle.

What the hell was he doing showing his face? Let alone this close to the five-year anniversary of everything. The new syndicate in charge took great joy in celebrating the fall of your family, no doubt they’re itching for someone to make an example of someone. Worry tried to leak its way into your veins, but you fought it. Why should you care about him? If he wanted to sign his death certificate, that was on him.

Still, the sight of a man you were almost positive you’d never see again made you feel uneasy. You’d acclimated to regular life quite well, so one of the few remnants of your past life appearing like a ghost was ominous. In spite of your unease, you couldn’t look away. Almost as if you were waiting for him to poof away. You kinda wished he would.

The camera changed and you finally blinked.

“N-Nothing.” You finally said, shaking your head, “I just thought I recognized someone, that’s all.” Your hands trembled for the briefest of moments as you lifted food to your mouth.

“Oh really, who?” Your only friend asked curiously and you shrugged as you chewed.

“Just some teacher that called in today.” You lied and it made your food taste sour for a moment. It was for the best you lied, you had to keep reminding yourself of that.

“Hell, I’d call in too if it meant I could see the fight live.” You were thankful Jungkook dropped the topic and let your shoulders relax. You shouldn’t feel bad for lying, really. An unspoken rule between you both was that you never pried about private details. Jungkook led his life and you led yours. Hell, you don’t even know what he does for a living, but it wouldn’t surprise you if it was living off of his boyfriends’ income. Not to mention you didn’t even know if he lived with anyone else next door or if that was just a place of his own to use on occasions. Though, you couldn’t help being a little jealous at the idea of being so pampered.

“Yeah, I could go for a silly little shirtless man fight on occasion.” You shrugged with a cheeky grin.

“Silly?!” Jungkook guffawed, “I’ll have you know if he wins this fight, he’ll qualify for the championship, so this is pretty high stakes.” He toted his knowledge of the sport.

“Hasn’t he already been champion like a few times now?” You asked, barely following.

“Yeah, but, he’s been off his game this season for… personal reasons, so he’s never been this close to not qualifying.” He admitted, and your brows scrunched at the melancholy in his eyes.

“Damn.” You mustered, “How do you know all this?” You asked, genuine curiosity lighting your eyes.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s cheeks reddened as he tore his eyes from you, “Interviews and stuff, you know.” He waved his hand dismissively and you rolled your eyes.

“Nothing wrong with being a fanboy.” You chided, “I’m certainly in no place to judge.” You offered, reminding him of your fixation on TV dramas, making him snort before you both honed in on the TV.

These fights were quite fascinating and allowed you to at least tap into some of your training. It was how you knew that Jimin was going to win this fight from the first calculated punch, his form was immaculate and instead of going for the face, he drove his fist into his opponent’s ear. It was a dirty trick, but it was more than enough to give him an opening.

“Holy shit, I think he might win this.” The fanboy across from you breathed.

“No way he isn’t going to win.” You confirmed.

“Don’t get my hopes too far up.” He all but squeaked out, basically on the edge of his seat.

After a couple of rounds and idle chitchat, the fight ended with Jimin as the victor. You clapped lightly, but Jungkook was so elated he hugged you as he let out a celebratory roar. The first couple of times he did this shocked you so bad your hands almost went to snap his neck. Now that you were both years into the friendship though, the gesture just made you chuckle. Soon after, just like it did every match, Jungkook’s phone vibrated and he had to leave. He always left you with some kind of affection and this time it was a kiss on the cheek, a rare one, but not a huge step from the common forehead kisses he gave you.

“Don’t drink too much.” You warned and he flashed you a cheeky smile, “At least don’t get into trouble.”

“We’ll see.” He chuckled, and you rolled your eyes.

“Well then don’t make it my problem!” You yelled and he waved a hand as he closed your door behind him.

—

“Father?” You whimpered as a strong hand patted your head to calm you, or soften the blow of what was to come, you couldn’t quite tell, “Tell me you didn't.” Your voice was in shambles as you trembled beneath his palm.

The news mocked you as panic took a hold of your body, shaking it out of the shred of blissful ignorance you had clung onto. Ever since your father took you in, you had many responsibilities, but the comfort of not needing to keep up with the public facade kept you going. You hated the public, all the pleasantries, and honeyed words. None of it made sense, and now, now you felt foolish for not involving yourself more. For not ensuring that something like this could never happen and crumble the only world you’ve known.

Still, even as despair monopolized your nerves, a tear wouldn’t fall. You weren’t sure if you knew how to shed them, but you knew it would only piss off your father.

Moon Byungyeol was a rough man and calling him father teetered between feeling genuine and like a formality. He was a boss first, but sometimes he wore the mask of a dad. Sometimes, but it was enough times with enough gusto that you couldn’t tell which side of him best represented his true self– or if he even had a truthful bone within himself.

He may have been rough, but he was all you had. He and the family he brought you into had been your first priority all your life, even when you had never really been his priority at all.

Not unless you could be used as currency.

“Y/n, it's time for us to go,” His voice was somber, but even. You’d never seen him so outwardly upset, but even so, he didn’t so much as let his eyes water as his life’s work shattered before his eyes. He was left with a subdued longing as he looked at the TV, melancholic defeat infecting his usually strong posture, “I let this greed consume me, and I'm afraid it's begun eating not just me alive now.” He admitted and it made you feel ill.

“...such evidence is linking the Moon Corporation to heinous organized crime activities painting them as a possible syndicate, but no arrests have been made nor has a formal criminal investigation on Moon Byungyeol himself been launched, but many workers under the company are being investigated due to possible involvement…”

Everything was dying. The realization that everything you did, all the lives you took, all the training you had suffered through, had never been for some prosperous empire you were promised. All of it had been to supply the lining of your father’s and uncle’s pockets. You should’ve been angry, shocked, or even appalled, but you weren't. You were numb to the fact that you were raised on lies. Fear resided in your veins about what that meant for you.

“If I just cash out and retire, we could never live in peace,” He shook his head as he switched off the TV before he placed his hands on your shoulder, catching your attention, “But Uncle Byungjoo has a plan that I think might just work.” You swallowed hard at this. Anything Byungjoo could think seldom meant good things for you. On your best days with him, you were a mere afterthought, but on the worst days– most days– you were–”The only thing is that you and I will have to… separate…”

He was going to abandon it. No, he was going to abandon you. The only thing more pitiful than your fear had to be your shock. What reason did you truly have to be surprised that he was throwing you away just as easily as he picked you? He was going to cash out one last time, and leave like this whole operation meant nothing to him. All the while you had put an inkling of faith in his heart to love this empire, like a fool. At the very least, it was the closest thing to love that you knew. This entire place was all you knew. When was the last time you had gone out on your own as anything but his daughter?

“But…” Your mouth was woefully dry, “The empire, just like you said, it’s-”

“We were never an empire,” His self-loathing clung to each word and disgust curled in your stomach as you looked at his solemn face, “I treated this organization as a bank, a money maker, it was inevitable that the paper I cradled would catch fire.” The roundabout way he was speaking began to grate at your nerve. The pseudo-poeticism of his words did nothing to save his dignity, but you didn’t tell him that.

You didn't scream, yell, or cry.

At least you hadn't, yet.

“Then who will rule Seoul?” You wondered aloud.

“That’s not my problem anymore.” He said as if it were the easiest thing to come to terms with.

“Who will stay with me?” You asked meekly, immediately regretting it as you watched his previous words dance on his lips before he decided against it.

He smiled warmly at you and it brought a chill down your spine, “Some of us are meant to be alone.” He patted your shoulder and you wanted so badly to break into pieces from the impact.

No one would stay with you. Not him, not anyone, and he didn't care.

That wasn't the answer you had hoped for. You hung your head in shame, shame that you expected anything other than a cold answer from a man on fire. The request for him to just kill you was on the time of your tongue before he turned around, ready to attend his last hurrah.

////

You woke up with a start from a bang outside, but considering the fact that it was 4 am, you chalked it up to city noise. Now awake, you stared at the ceiling and blew out an annoyed sigh. You were constantly plagued with flashbacks both in and out of your dreams, and you wished the rancid memories would choose one state of consciousness to haunt you in. Your therapist a couple of years back told you it's normal for people who have gone through what you have to constantly see what you were then in trying to dissect where you are now. Essentially, it was a constant cloud that hung over your head, and no matter how far you removed yourself from that life, its consequences would stay etched into your skin.

Another bang sounded outside your window and you grimaced. Anniversary week was beginning, and you felt more on edge than usual.

Five years ago exactly, you saw the match light. In four days, it will have officially been five years since you saw the flames engulf your home, your family, and everything you were. Each year, this week was chaos for the city of Seoul. Each day was accompanied by an event that slowly grew more and more above ground. It was almost mocking the past, the surfacing of dirty secrets. Secrets the world knew, but never wanted to see, cowards.

The new syndicate at the top of the kingdom was known as Bangtan to the underground scene, but with a “Group” tacked on after the ominous name, they were also the kings of the business world. They were much better at actually hiding their identities, hence why most average people assumed there was no such syndicate anymore or that the “law” took care of it. As if the “law” wasn’t under the thumb of the kings.

Even so, your information could very well be outdated. The whispers from the underground, also known as the Underworld or even more to the point, Hell, reached your ears less and less as you removed yourself from the lives of anyone who knew who you were. No longer working at the diner your previous nanny ran shut you off from the underground so much so you seldom became aware of Anniversary Week’s events until two days before the main event.

Another bang, but this time on your door, startled you out of your thoughts, “I can’t believe you went to the bar on a day like today- where are your keys?!” An unfamiliar voice spoke through your door.

“Ask, y/n,” Jungkook’s slurred voice rang out in a yell as you flinched at the volume, “Y/n! I need stitches!”

This wasn't the first time Jungkook was yelling outside your door, demanding your assistance. This was just another facet of your friendship that you both silently agreed was fine. You never really asked questions, you just patched him up and left him on your couch. It really wasn't any of your business, nor did you have any desire for it to be. Jungkook was an MMA fan, and you knew he was big on that scene and the fitness scene, so it just made sense he would get into fights. You could only hope these fights were agreed upon prior to alcohol, but you weren't naive enough to actually assume that was the case.

“This isn’t even your door, baby, come on.” The voice grunted and your attention peaked. You had encountered a few men trying to help Jungkook home, but you seldom got such an obvious confirmation of their relationship with him, “What? Are you trying to booty call your neighbor?” The unknown man teased and you rolled your eyes. Were they all like this?

“I wish!” Jungkook shouted in response and you were fine with leaving your door closed this time until he spoke, “Ew, I’m dripping on the doormat.”

This made you huff as you hopped out of bed in your large t-shirt and shorts and ripped the door open. You were faced with a man with perfectly styled black hair in a three-piece suit accompanied by a trashed Jungkook with a short, but deep, cut on the corner of his forehead. The man that looked a few years older than you and Jungkook stopped struggling with your neighbor as he looked at you with the most pristine and exasperated face.Everything about this man was polished. Even as your neighbor lazily draped around the man, his suit had barely begun to wrinkle.

Meanwhile, he looked you up and down with contempt before sighing, “Look, just forget we were-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook cheered before he passed out.

“No booty calls here, sorry.” You remarked flatly, “He usually keeps his keys in his wallet for some reason.” You nodded to his pocket before you looked at his forehead again, “But he does need stitches.” You opened your door a little more, gesturing for them to come in.

The man narrowed his eyes at you, “Do you usually play nurse for him?” You bit your tongue and swallowed his condescending tone with a sigh. You couldn’t tell if he was jealous at the thought of his boyfriend having some neighbor who treats his wounds in the dead of night or if he simply didn’t like you. Although looking at his face, there was no way this man was jealous of you. His gaze was sharp nonetheless, sharp and vaguely familiar, but his eyes held no recognition for you, so you let it go.

“Only when his blood is dripping on my doormat, for the third time this month,” You pointed to the sullied mat that you had just cleaned fully this week, “Bring him in, this isn’t that uncommon-”

“But-” He tried to object, noticeably a little clammy at the unspoken knowledge of their relationship.

“Any more blood on that mat and I'm making you pay for it, now come on,” You snapped as he walked in and sat Jungkook in a chair around your table. You shut the door as you pulled your first aid kit out, “You have to sit him on the floor or the couch.”

He complied to the couch, and though he didn’t say anything, you could see the question floating around his mind.

“When he wakes up, he attacks whoever is in front of him,” You spoke, preparing the needle and thread, and you had to ignore the curiosity peaking within you when you saw the other man shift uncomfortably at your comment, “And I can't stitch and hold him down at the table,” You explained, settling your knees to lock on both sides of Jungkook’s legs and your elbows pressing on his shoulders.

“Aren't you scared he'll hurt you?” The man asked as you began stitching.

You scoffed, “I can play scared if that's what you want, but certainly not for free.” You chuckled, but he remained straight-faced. Tough crowd. You worked very hard to develop your banter skills these past five years, but he paid them no mind making your smile drop.

Eventually, you just went on stitching in silence until the man broke the silence, “Who are you?” The man spoke mid-way through your stitching.

You paused for a moment, “Didn't you hear Jungkook? I’m y/n, and who are you?”

“None of your concern,” He clipped.

You snorted a chuckle, “You're bleeding on my hardwood floor, that has me pretty concerned.” You gestured to your hand to show him the small cut on his and he slowly grabbed a napkin to press against his hand with his mouth in a thin line, “Concerned for my floor I mean.” You clarified, “But a word of advice? If you don’t want to be suspicious of you, don’t act suspicious.”

He sighed, “My name is Namjoon-”

You were tying the final knot when Jungkook snapped his eyes open, “Shit.” Was all you were able to get out. He immediately dove at you, pushing you to the floor, making the needle in your hand scratch your forearm before you threw it across the room to avoid the tempting notion of stabbing him with it. You sucked in a breath through your teeth at the burning sensation while you struggled to shake him out of it.

It didn’t take a genius to deduce why Jungkook’s fight or flight was so concentrated, he’d obviously grown up with a reason to be. Nevertheless, it has never been your place to pry or judge, if anything, it’d be quite hypocritical. He'd seen you in a less-than-ideal mental state plenty of times, to put it lightly. Plus, you knew he didn’t mean any harm, and he was always pretty apologetic after the fact. Although, you were sure the struggle looked pretty concerning as you saw Namjoon scramble to his feet.

Namjoon was trying to find an opening to cut in between the battle as Jungkook was sloppily throwing his fist down and you were moving your head to dodge each blow. Though his moves were sloppy, they were still fast and you could only dodge for so long. With no other option left, you sighed before slamming your forehead on his fresh stitches to make him stop to register the pain. You took advantage of the opening as you effortlessly pinned his arms down with your knees planted on his upper arms, “Jungkook!” You snapped as Namjoon watched his younger friend finally recognize you in his drunken haze.

“Y-Y/n?” He questioned, his tongue thick in his mouth, “You hurt my head- hey, you’re bleeding on my shirt!”

Your arm had a scratch about half the length of your forearm, it was shallow and oozing blood, but you didn’t flinch, “Wonder who made me hurt both my arm and their head, dumbass,” You muttered, examining his stitches to make sure the impact didn’t affect the new suture, “And you got your blood on my doormat and my forehead, so let’s call it a draw.” You grunted as you fixed the suture.

The sight of someone towering over his boyfriend after headbutting them made Namjoon on edge. Jungkook talked for days and days about how much he loved spending time with his neighbor, but something was… off about you. Why would a school nurse be that skilled in combat? Jungkook was a ruthless fighter and you hardly flinched.

This string of thoughts prompted his mistake of grasping your wounded forearm to make you stand so he could properly question you. What he didn’t calculate in that movement was the fact that he grasped your fresh cut, which hurt like a bitch. This pain made you bring your other forearm to his neck, pressing firmly into his trachea as his back hit the wall with a bang. You both looked at each other in surprise at your reflex. You gasped softly before releasing him, “Don’t ever manhandle a lady, Namjoon,” You mumbled as you brought distance between the two of you, “I don’t do well being frightened.”

Namjoon regained his composure, impressed by your reaction time and ability to weaken his pride in such a short matter of seconds, “Who are you?” His tone was rougher in comparison to when he first asked the question.

“None of your concern,” You mocked his voice cartoonishly, becoming more and more irritated with his line of questioning, “Now take him, an alcohol pad, and go.” You hissed, unceremoniously tossing the package at him.

He gave you a sharp glare but complied, hauling Jungkook over his shoulder and leaving. The door shut and you let a relieved sigh escape you. You shut your eyes tightly, frustrated that you let your instincts take over like that. Namjoon was undoubtedly suspicious and that’s the last thing you needed. You opened your eyes and caught sight of the clock nearing 5 am, and it was a Saturday now, so you were going to sleep in as much as you could.

----------------------------------------------------------

If you enjoy my work, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi

Masterlist

#bts mafia au #bts fanfic #bts series #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #bts x reader #mafia bts #yandere mafia bts

634 notes · View notes