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drakenology · 4 years ago

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Vapors - Bakugo Katsuki

warnings!: use of drugs (weed), smut, a lil comedy, fluff (cause im a cancer and we love romance in this house.) swearing because bakugo, Bakugo aged up (cause we don’t fuck children ‘round here), and sex under the influence of drugs. i also sprinkled some daddy kink up in here so...

author’s note: THANK YOU GUYS SOOOO MUCH FOR 100 NOTES ON MY RECENT POSTS!!! I really appreciate all the love, it makes me so happy to see that you guys like my work. Remember I’m taking requests and asks so please don’t be shy! here’s yet another bakugo smut because.. well, i’m obsessed with this man ok?? AND we need more stoner Bakugo idc idc idc. enjoy!

summary: Bakugo is a stoner and you’ve been kind of a goody two shoes for most of your life until the night you smoked with your boyfriend for the first time.

It was a calm evening at home. You had just finished cleaning the home you shared with Bakugo as he helped by washing the dishes. You sigh, putting away the vacuum as you go and hop in the shower. You loved when he took days off of being a hero to spend some time with you at home. As you take your shower, you hear your boyfriend singing along to his favorite song; you smile as you hear him carelessly belt the notes off key. You loved his stupid ass so much. If you had ever told anyone he was a softie for you he’d probably kill you himself, but you still cherish the moments when he’s at his sweetest. You step out of the shower, drying yourself off as you dress yourself in a t-shirt and fleece pajama pants to keep warm and cozy. You walk out to the living room to a strong stench that completely caught you off guard. Bakugo was sitting on the couch, singing his song in his own little world; rolling a joint for him to smoke.

“Katsuki! I told you no smoking in the house!” You nag, walking over to him. He smirked up at you, continuing to roll. He was in a really good mood today. He spent the day smoking weed and fucking his hot girlfriend. Even if she was a little uptight, she was fucking gorgeous and she had a good heart. Though he really wished you’d loosen your corset a bit.

“Relax, shitty woman. I’m taking this outside. Just rollin’ up as all.” He said, concentrating on sealing his joint. He licked the seams of the paper, looking you in the eyes as he did so. He chuckled as he watched your face turn red.

“You’ve never smoked before, huh?” Kastuki asked you, raising a brow at you as you watched him carefully roll his joint. You sat next to him, folding your arms as you shake your head no. Katsuki smoked, not a lot but whenever he had time to himself and you knew that. You never had a problem with it, you just never smoked yourself.

“I’d never. I used to think weed was so bad for you. But you smoke it and you seem fine.” You admit, watching him hold a lighter over his joint to seal the edges.

“Did you wanna try it with me? If not that’s fine, I’m not pressuring you to do anything you don’t want to, princess.” He said, cupping your chin in his hand as he gave you a small peck on your nose. You smile and think briefly. Katsuki knows that you’ve always been a goody two shoes. Ever since you two were kids, you were always so afraid to get into trouble for anything. He remembers when you cried all the way through detention for bickering with him in middle school. It was your first and only detention. You were so hysterical, it was as if someone died. You were just always so sweet and innocent. You never cussed or got too angry and that’s what Katsuki loved about you. You were such a calming spirit. Even though he was the complete opposite, it worked as you balanced each other out.

“Okay. But just this one night.” You giggle, hopping up out of your seat. He stands up and walks to the balcony of your apartment, smacking your ass as you walk through the sliding door. You two were sat next to each other, watching the sun set over the clouds as he lights up the joint for you both to share.

“Now I just wanna warn you, please don’t feel like you gotta keep up with me. You can stop when you feel like you’ve had enough. Okay?” He said, taking a drag. You nod, watching him closely to see how to properly smoke a joint. It had to be a science right? He takes another slow drag and blew out the smoke, passing it to you so you can have a hit. You take it and hold it like a cigarette, making Katsuki laugh as he watched his goody goody smoke weed for the first time. You take a puff, one that was a little too big for you to start off and immediately you cough up the smoke. Katsuki pats your back as he handed you some water to help your throat.

“Idiot.” He shakes his head, laughing slightly. You lightly hit his chest, trying to take another drag.

“Just inhale. You’re overthinking it.” He said watching you slowly take a drag. Sure enough after following Bakugo’s instruction, you blow out the smoke. You felt your body instantly relax, your eyes hazy and low as you watch Katsuki smoke some more. God, he was so attractive. You’ve never sat and watched him smoke before, he’d always leave the room out of respect for you not liking the smoke in the house. But with the way your body feels right now, you think you’d been missing out for sure. You take in his form, he was slouched in his chair with his legs spread out as he smoked. You felt yourself blush as you watched him, in awe of his stature. He passed you the joint once more and you happily took another drag. You loved the high you were feeling, the stars in the sky twinkling much more pristine as then usual. You become a little giggly, your first time being high just seemed so hilarious.

“What’re you laughin’ at?” Bakugo says looking at you with hazy eyes, your laughter roaring through his ears.

“I-I’m sorry I just- AHAHAHAHA!” You burst, hunching over laughing at practically nothing. Being high was kinda fun. Bakugo laughs with you, putting out the joint when he was done.

“That’s enough for you, shitty woman.” He said standing up from his chair. You slowly stand up from your seat as you wobble a little, feeling your balance being thrown off by the influence of weed. He helps you inside, opening the door for you letting you walk in first. As a tradition, he smacks you ass as you walk through the door. You looked especially delicious when he was high, his pants feeling a little tight just looking at you. He plops down on the couch and turned on the T.V, flipping through Netflix as you walked into the kitchen.

“I’m fucking HUNGRY.” You blurt out, looking through the cabinets for something to snack on. Katsuki froze, unsure that he heard what he just heard.

“D-Did you just fucking cuss?” He asked, completely shocked. Never in his years of knowing you has he ever heard you utter a swear word. He tried to get you to at least say “Damn.” and that never worked.

“Oh shit... I did just cuss. Oh shit I just cussed again! FUCK!” You laugh, not being able to contain your foul language. It felt as if a huge burden had been lifted off your shoulders, finally loosening your metaphorical corset. Katsuki laughed.

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” He asked sarcastically, standing up from his seat on the couch. He walked towards you to see you stuffing you face with every snack from your pantry. You had a seriously bad case of the munchies, crunching away at some potato chips.

“We gotta go food shopping tomorrow. Ain’t shit in here to eat. UGH why does food taste so fucking good right now!?” You said, cussing with ease at this point. Bakugo inched closer to you shaking his head, snatching the bag of chips away from you as he started to eat them. You frown, grabbing some cookies instead.

“Gimme one.” Bakugo said, grabbing the cookie out of your mouth with his, taking a bite from it. You blush as you chew your own cookie, watching him look down at you. You never really realized how much taller Bakugo was compared to you. You took your hand and wiped some crumbs from the corner of his mouth, kissing him deeply as you pulled him closer to you. Katsuki kissed you back, picking you up and sitting you on the kitchen counter. The kiss under the influence felt amazing. It was like time froze while you kissed, your lips combined feeling like electricity as you melt into him. You feel yourself getting wetter by the second, immensely turned on by this man. You tug at the hem of his shirt for him to take it off, earning a chuckle from Katsuki.

“You’re horny as fuck right now, aren’t you?” He asked, leaning in to kiss your neck. “I can tell you’re probably soaked right now.” You moan as he left open mouth kisses down your neck, reaching under your shirt to grab and squeeze at your bare breasts. You feel absolutely blissful, your panties soaking at this point. Why did everything feel so fucking good right now?

“Kachan~” You whine, trying to grind against him as he licked and sucked on your neck, pinching your nipples lightly. You feel as if you’re about to cum just from him playing with your boobs and kissing your neck, your pussy pulsating as you grab onto him for dear life. All the pleasure was becoming so blinding you never wanted this feeling to go away. Katsuki lifts you up again to walk back into the living room with you in his arms, sitting on the couch with you on his lap.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He said, nibbling on your ear. You moan, grinding against his growing bulge, taking off your shirt to reveal your nude breasts to him.

“You, daddy.” You purr. Katsuki freezes a little, shocked by what you just called him. You were pretty vanilla so hearing you call him daddy turned him feral.

“Say it again.” He demanded, taking a nipple into his mouth. You moan, still grinding your pussy against the tent he was pitching in his pants, running your hands through his hair.

“I want you, daddyy. Please fuck me.” You whine, getting off his lap as he stood. Your obedience was turning him on so much he just had to have you, not caring where in the house he took you at this point. He slid off your pants and panties in one go, kneeling down to get a closer looks at your wetness.

“Fuck, you don’t know what you do to me, baby.” he hissed, kissing your inner thighs. “I would eat you out for being such a good girl but I need to be inside you. Now.” He said, standing up to take off his pants and his boxers, his thick length springing out as he pulled them down. You almost drool at the sight, spreading your legs and rubbing your pussy as you imagined his length stretching you out. You were never this sultry in the bedroom, always having Katsuki initiate. But tonight, you had a hunger you needed to be fulfilled.

“You’re so fucking sexy..” Katsuki moaned, pumping his dick a few times before grabbing your face to kiss you with tongue. He pulled away to grab you by your neck, the dominating look in his eyes making your pussy gush.

“Bend your sexy ass over.” He growled, letting you go as you obliged. He crouched behind you and gave your pussy a few taps with his dick before sliding inside your slick folds. You have never felt this good. Sex with Katsuki had always been amazing but tonight this was different. You moan sinfully as you felt him stretch you out, his thrusts progressing as he fucked you good.

“D-Daddyy.” You moan, gripping the arm of the couch for dear life. He smacks your ass a few times, quickening his pace as he grabbed you hair to pull it. You lean into the couch, one leg on the seat and one planted onto the floor, hardly being able to keep you stable as your legs shake. You feel your release come quicker than expected, you reaching back to rub your clit in harsh circles.

“You make me feel so good daddy. Fuck, I love you!” You scream, pushing your face into your hands as Katsuki continued the assault on your g-spot. You start clenching around him, the sound of your moans and skin slapping together filled the living room as Katsuki starts to sweat, a caramel scent filling your nose.

“So fucking sexy, baby. You gonna cum for me?” He asked, his hard thrusts causing you to see stars. Your moans are the only thing Katsuki can hear, unsatified as he pulled you up to him by your hair.

“I can’t hear you, baby.” He said, fucking you even harder, you not knowing that was even possible. You can hardly form a sentence, you responding with frantic yeses and moans and I love yous. He smirked, throwing you back onto the couch as he feels you clench around him once more. If he knew you were gonna be this frisky he would have gotten you high a long time ago.

“I’m gonna cum, daddy! I- oh!” You shriek, cumming around his dick to Katsuki’s delight. He smacks you ass hard as he helps you ride out your orgasm only to quicken his pace again, chasing his own release.

“Yeah.. ‘M gonna cum, baby. You ready?” He asked sweetly, kissing your back as he pounds you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, gasping for air to try and answer him.

“C-Cum inside me, daddy. Oh god yes!” You moan, biting your lip. He did just that, a strong grunt leaving his mouth as he slowed down his movements, his cum painting your womb white. You sigh, almost missing his dick inside you as he pulled out of you. He picked you up and carried you to your shared room.

“Can we smoke again later?” You ask innocently. He laughed and walked into the bathroom to start you both a bath.

“Sure baby.” He said, giving you a sweet kiss. He pulled out the joint you both hadn’t finished as he led you into the bath. He goes to light it before looking to you to see if it was okay to smoke in the bathroom.

“Fuck it.” You say, laughing as he lights up the joint for you to relax in your bath.

#bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha imagines #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha kirishima #bnha izuku

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your-iron-lung · 6 years ago

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No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross 10

aka ‘The House That Dripped Blood’; available to read on AO3 HERE

Story Synopsis: Some weird low-key occult parties start popping up that Steve can’t in good conscience ignore and takes it upon himself to investigate. Billy gets caught up in the consequences of his meddling, and isn’t it funny? For all the strange things the Upside Down has thrown his way, it’s werewolves that Steve has trouble accepting exist.

Chapter Word Count: 7927

Pairings: Eventual Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Genre: Supernatural/Drama/Horror-ish

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Next Chapter: 11

Notes: if you follow me you may have noticed i havent posted in a while- this is bc i spend all my time playing ffxiv instead of setting aside determined amounts of time to spend on writing/drawing and i have a bunch of artist alleys coming up that im ill prepared for and im terrible at budgeting UH YEP bad excuse but WHAT CAN YA DO here we are

(ive also set up a ko-fi account if you want to give drop me some tippy tips if u enjoy the word things i do) ((no pressure tho))

"Bigfoot."

Hopper leaned back in his chair; let it creak and groan under his weight until he knew it was at its limit, and then pushed it a little more. He studied the no-nonsense expression on the hunter before him, and intrinsically knew that the man was speaking truth.

"Bigfoot," the old man said again, speaking a little sterner than he had before once he recognized Hopper's amiable expression of disbelief. "I seen't him out in the woods just the other day."

The aging man had lumbered into the police station almost immediately after Hopper came in, bundled in some worn hunting gear that looked almost as old as he was. The deputies had offered to speak with him after hearing his initial claim, but they'd been refused when Callahan couldn't stop smirking. The old hunter had insisted on speaking with Hopper, who leaned forward now, taking the stress off of his chair to take a sip of the coffee Florence had brought in for him. He didn't look at the old man as he drank.

"So let me get this straight," Hopper began, setting his coffee aside to rub at his forehead, "you came in first thing in the morning worried about a missing friend of yours, but now you're telling me you're worried about Bigfoot."

"You know me, Jim," the hunter said, a slight hint of pleading desperation edging out of his voice. "You know I ain't some crazy old coot. I ain't seen Lamm in a long while, and yessir I'm worried 'bout him, but when I went out to his cabin to check on him I seen it: I seen Bigfoot!"

As incredulous as the claim was, Hopper believed him- not about it being Bigfoot, exactly, but he believed that the man had seen something out there in the woods, and it had the possibility of being that something he'd spent the last two weeks fruitlessly searching for.

Regardless, he didn't want to let the old hunter know he was taking him seriously. The last thing he needed was for his community to think he believed in this sort of nonsense, but people in town were going missing, and people he knew were getting hurt: if his only lead should turn up in the form of an old man believing he'd caught sight of an urban legend, then so be it. He'd follow it through, but he'd be subtle about it.

"You sure it wasn't just a trick of the light or something, Wes? You know your eyes aren't what they used to be," Hopper remarked casually, softening his voice to let him down easy. "And this isn't the first time Lamm's gone missing; you know he's one of those types of shut ins. Remember those weeks he was gone hunting 'vampires'? He's the kind of guy who lives in his own head more than he lives out here, he'll turn up again on his own time."

The hunter's lips twitched into a frown. "Alright, maybe Lamm is a little off kilter," he relented, averting his eyes for a second, "and maybe it weren't Bigfoot, but the tracks it left were huge 'n mighty, by God, and I ain't seen nothin' else like it before. If it weren't Bigfoot, then at the very least it had big feet, Jim, and I ain't never seen feet quite like 'em."

Interest piqued, Hopper became more attentive. "How's that?"

"Well, they was stretched out lookin', for one." The hunter paused, tilting his head slightly as he tried to recall the details of what he'd seen out in the woods. He held his hands up, spaced apart in an approximation of how long the prints he'd found had been. "Human lookin', almost, which is what had me thinkin' it coulda been Bigfoot. They weren't the tracks of somethin' native 'round here, and I only caught but the barest glimpse of it, but it was tall, Jim; taller'n you or I."

That sounded right; the prints he'd found and unsuccessfully tracked were, as the hunter said, 'huge 'n mighty' and matched the description of what he'd just been told. It didn't take an expert's opinion (though he had consulted one) to discern that the markings just weren't natural. Hopper set his mug of coffee aside and pulled out a notepad from one of his desk drawers. He uncapped a pen and held it to the page for a moment before writing down a few preliminary notes for himself on the top line.

The hunter cocked his head and leaned forward to look at what he was writing and said, "That don't look official."

"Because it's not; this one's just gonna be between us, alright?" Hopper said, looking up to meet Wesley's blue, watery eyes. He held the stare long enough to get his point across, waiting for a sign of affirmation before looking back to the notepad and pressing the tip of the pen to the paper. "Tell me where and when exactly you saw this 'Bigfoot' of yours."

The day was cold and grey at its start, with harsh, biting winds ushering in thick clouds that blocked out any hope of the sun ever making an appearance. Steve eyed the sky apprehensively as he made his way back to his car, wary of the way the clouds looked as though they might start dropping hail on him at a moment's notice. Billy feigned disinterest as Steve opened the rear passenger door and leaned in to shove the box of things he'd bought at the Hunting & Camping store into the backseat. Even with his vision obscured in part by the sunglasses he'd elected to wear, he didn't miss the strong look of annoyance that graced Steve's features when he came around to the driver's seat and entered the car with a pout.

"That guy give you a hard time or something?" Billy asked as Steve buckled in and put the BMW into reverse, turning in his seat to hastily jerk the car out of the parking lot. "Why do you look like someone shit in your cereal?"

Steve clicked his tongue. "He just kept asking what a 'kid like me' needed with a bunch of chains and rope and shit. My god, he just would not let it go, like he thought I was trying to build my own sex dungeon or something. Fucking annoying."

"You mean that's not what we're doing?" Billy asked, grinning a bit at the way Steve's face pinched up in disgust. "What'd you say?"

"I told him the truth; said it was to tie up a werewolf. 'It's a full moon tonight, y'know? Gotta tie 'em down or they go all crazy on you', I said to him, and you know what he said to me then?" Steve asked, speeding out of the little downtown shopping area Hawkins played host to and sounding every bit as gossipy as Carol did when she caught wind of a scandal.

"How the fuck would I?" Billy drawled, turning away from the conversation to watch the scenery pass by disinterestedly.

"He said, 'Damn fool kids will never learn'," Steve said, ignoring him. "'Damn fool kids will never learn', like, what the hell does that mean?"

Billy shrugged. "Who knows? As long as he accepted daddy's plastic then what does it matter?"

Steve clicked his tongue again in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "Fuck you."

Feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on, Billy declined to retort. They rode on in silence, the chains in the box Steve had bought clinking together softly in the backseat before the radio was finally turned on to mask the sound.

Regardless of whether or not Steve actually believed something was going to happen to Billy that night, he couldn't deny that the whole day leading up to that evening just felt… off. From meeting up with Billy earlier that afternoon to go by the camping store, to grabbing lunch together before heading over to the Henderson's house, it all felt wrong.

It was something Steve had difficulty pinpointing the origins of, but as they began work on clearing out enough space in the cellar for Billy to do whatever it was he thought he was going to do, he soon came to realize that the feeling of wrongness seemed to stem from Billy himself.

Few words could better describe Billy than 'annoying' or 'smart-mouthed', but he'd been uncharacteristically tight-lipped all day. He'd become a remarkably dull version of himself, and Steve wasn't sure quite how to handle that.

Usually one to argue and bite back at everything Steve said, when he'd begun dishing out instructions on how best to clear out some floor space in the cellar, Billy hadn't talked back to him a single time; merely lit a cigarette and blinked at him slowly, silently acknowledging what had been asked of him before getting on with it.

It was unsettling. Steve could almost say that he hated how submissive Billy was because of how used he'd gotten to the back-talk and smart-ass remarks Billy usually had ready for him, and though, yes, there were times he had wished for this kind of attitude from him, the silence and absolute subordination coupled with all of the other behavioral changes Billy was exhibiting were enough to set Steve on edge.

Billy kept tonguing the gaps in his teeth where they'd fallen out over the course of the week, and he never seemed to realize he wasn't alone. Sometimes he'd jump at the sound of Steve's voice, or shake his head and crease his brow in confusion when he turned around to see Steve moving stuff somewhere behind him, but arguably the worst part of it all was that he stank.

He'd tried to mask it with an overabundance of cologne that had nearly suffocated Steve when they began working in closer quarters, but buried beneath that was a hint of something that smelled awfully rotten. If he had to, Steve could liken it to the stench of the monster they'd encountered in the woods, but he chose not to, instead chalking it up to a severe case of nervous b.o. or something. The implications that the scents could be related bothered him too deeply to believe, and even then he wasn't sure he really wanted to know what the source of the smell was.

The stench of decay emanating from Billy's person was worrisome enough on its own, but with so much to do in order to get ready before sunset, Steve had a hard time figuring out where to primarily apply his focus: there were simply too many things going on for him to worry about one thing more than another.

The giant hole in the wall that Dart made to tunnel out of the cellar was his immediate concern, but Dustin had done a good job of hiding it from his mother by placing a tall shelf in front of it, essentially blocking it off. That didn't mean it wasn't entirely inaccessible, but Steve wasn't sure what more he could do about it. In all honesty, he'd forgotten about it until he'd tried to move the shelf aside and then found himself peeking into the eerie tunnel. He'd knocked over several things in his haste to put the shelf back in place, but Billy hadn't seemed to notice it, and if he didn't, maybe he wouldn't think to use it if- or when- he lost himself to whatever supernatural effects he was experiencing.

"Big if, though," Steve muttered aloud to himself. Turning away from the shelf, he looked over to where Billy was inspecting some old power tools, turning a nail gun over in his hands before setting it back in the box he'd pulled it out of. "So, are we good or what? This baby-proofed enough for you?" Steve asked, startling Billy out of whatever ruminations he'd been lost to.

Billy looked at Steve blankly, face impassive and emotionless. He frowned, and then looked around himself as though he'd forgotten where he was. When he spoke, his voice was monotone and devoid of his usual arrogance as he said, "I don't know, Harrington; is it?"

"You tell me, man, this was your idea." Steve watched as Billy returned his focus on the box of tools he'd originally been rummaging through. Picking up a hammer, Billy balanced its weight in his hands before gripping the handle tightly. Steve distrusted the look in Billy's eye as he held it. "What are you, a child? Quit rifling through their shit, put it back," he said.

Billy didn't reply or even acknowledge that he'd heard him. Ignoring Steve's demand, he stepped up to the abandoned work bench to splay his left hand out over the wood and lifted the ballpeen up.

"What the fuck are you doing? Put it down," Steve said again, his voice rising slightly in pitch when he understood what Billy was doing. He started towards him in an effort to stop him, but halted when the hammer was brought crashing down.

It missed his hand, but the force of the impact splintered the wooden table's surface. Steve gaped as Billy turned around, a cocky little smile turning up his lips.

"Someone could get hurt real bad down here if they weren't careful, huh, Harrington?" he said, a fierceness that Steve hated to admit he'd missed charging his voice. "But we've been real careful cleaning this shithole out, haven't we, pally?"

"You sick piece of shit, give me that," Steve snapped, snatching the hammer away from Billy's pliant grip. "Fuck you, Hargrove; you could've just said you wanted to move this shit out of here."

"Had you pegged as being more of a visual learner," Billy sneered as Steve threw the hammer back into the box of tools. "Your concern was touching, though, really."

"You're the one who came asking me for help, fuckface. Begged me, almost, if I'm remembering right. 'Oh, Steve, help me, I'm so scared of fake movie monsters!'"

Steve hadn't meant to rise to the taunt, but Billy's insufferable attitude had him stooping to his level as he hoisted the hefty box of tools in his arms and lugged them over to the stairway. Billy laughed dryly at Steve's mocking tone.

"We both wish that fucking thing had been fake," he said as Steve placed the box on the ground at the foot of the stairs beside the box of supplies he'd bought earlier. They were both quiet for a moment, their attempt at a conversation dying as quickly as it had been brought on.

"Only one thing left to do then," Steve said morosely.

Billy blinked and turned to face the stairway, eyes rising slowly up to where the cellar doors were propped open wide. Steve felt the guilt of having to lock him in prematurely and had to remind himself that he wanted to be locked in.

"Better hop to it then, Harrington," Billy said lowly, lips curling back into a familiar grin, but without all his teeth in place to flesh it out, Steve found the display to be more unsettling than annoying. "Let's get this sex dungeon set up."

Steve grimaced. "Not even in your wildest dreams, Hargrove."

"Nothing's off the table in my dreams, pretty boy." Billy breathed out a small laugh at the disgusted look on Steve's face, but the grin he'd been displaying slowly fell away. "Is it getting dark yet?"

"Uh, kind of, but the sun hasn't set yet," Steve replied, stepping up into the stairwell to check the status of the sky. It was as dull and grey as it had been all day, the overcast weather acting as a harbinger for the snowfall the local meteorologist had foretold was coming. "If you took off those fucking sunglasses you'd be able to tell."

"These are for your benefit as much as mine," Billy snapped, frowning suddenly.

"Yeah, okay, whatever that means," Steve said dismissively as he began to fish out the cords of rope from the box, letting them spool out onto the ground before gathering them into his hands. "How do you uh, how do you want to do this?"

"Aw, is this kitten's first time tying someone up?" Billy purred, not moving from where he stood in the middle of the cellar, directly under the light. "Who knew 'King' Steve's favourite flavor was vanilla."

Steve rolled his eyes as he brought the ropes over, wrinkling his nose at the mixed smell of rot and cologne that got stronger with proximity. "I've dated girls kinkier than you'd know what to do with," he retorted as he gestured for Billy to hold out his hands.

"Oh please," Billy said with a snort, "there are no kinky girls in Hawkins or I would've found them by now."

"You're obviously not looking hard enough," Steve muttered in response, gesturing again for Billy to hold out his hands.

Shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it over the work table he'd splintered, Billy held his hands up obediently and watched stoically as Steve wound the rope around his wrists, binding his hands together roughly.

"What's should our safe word be?" Billy teased, smirking as Steve wound another, longer length of rope over the original knot.

"There is no safe word because this isn't a sex thing!" Steve insisted angrily.

Flustered, he sighed irritably as he wound the long part of the rope around Billy's waist, hating how close he had to get in order to make sure the rope was tight enough, though Billy seemed to be enjoying how close he'd gotten. He kept shifting his weight around, trying, it seemed, to get Steve into a more compromising position. Annoyed, but determined to finish, Steve did his best to ignore Billy's constant movement and the disgusting, rotten musk that was wafting off of his person to finish tying him up.

"Why do you fucking stink so goddamn badly?" Steve finally asked with a scowl, repressing the urge to gag as he tied the ropes off into a clumsy knot. He stumbled away from Billy, reaching up to pinch his nostrils shut so he wouldn't have to smell the rot anymore, but the rancid scent seemed to have lodged itself deep into his nose. "You smell like a dead Calvin Klein model or something, holy shit, did you use a whole fucking bottle?"

The amusement Billy had held while taunting Steve left his face. His smirk shrunk into an awkward grimace as he looked away in embarrassment.

"I don't know, alright?" he admitted bitterly. "It doesn't matter how much I bathe, and between that and my eyes I have no idea what the fuck's going on with me."

"What about your eyes?" Steve asked hesitantly, unsure if he really wanted to know the reasoning behind why Billy had insisted on wearing sunglasses all day.

Billy faltered for a moment, hesitating briefly before reaching up and plucking the sunglasses off his face. With both hands bound together, he awkwardly folded the legs against the lenses and tucked them into the collar of his button up. He turned his gaze to Steve, who couldn't help but suck in a slight breath of surprise.

His eyes were so bloodshot they looked ready to start bleeding straight out of the sockets. There were hardly any whites left in the sclera to be seen as Billy winked at him, looking immensely uncomfortable at the way Steve was gaping openly at him.

"Do they- hurt? Or whatever?" Steve asked, unconsciously taking a few steps forward to get a better look. In the dim lighting of the basement, even the blues of Billy's eyes looked reddish.

"What's it to you if they do?" Billy snapped, suddenly irritable. He squared his jaw and looked away, unable to face the amount of concern Steve was showing him.

The worry Steve felt for the both of them in that moment grew stronger as he backed off, letting the matter of the changes in Billy's physicality drop, despite how alarming they were. "If I don't hear anything an hour after the sun goes down, I'll let you out," Steve said abruptly as he walked backwards towards the stairwell, grasping for the hand rail behind him blindly, unsure why he was so reluctant now to let Billy out of his sight. It was what they'd agreed upon earlier, and he said it meaning for it to sound reassuring, but the way Billy's lips twitched made it apparent he didn't interpret it that way.

Billy didn't respond.

"Well, uh, I guess that's it then," Steve said as he bent down, placing his box of chains atop the box of tools Billy had been messing around with before lifting them up together to carry them up and out of their man-made dungeon.

The cellar doors shrieked loudly as they were closed, a high pitched agony that erupted when the metal grinded against itself uncooperatively. Steve didn't mind that so much as he hated the sound the chains made as he wove them through the door handles, reminding him of what he was doing and who he was imprisoning as the steel rattled sharply against the doors. He winced at the commotion, but continued to loop them through the small door handles until no more could be fit between them. He tested their sturdiness by attempting to pull them open, and to his pleasure, they remained shut. The doors were secured; the cellar, as far as he was concerned, was now a suitable prison. All that was left of him now was to play the role of the jailor appropriately.

He stared down at his handiwork for a moment before the cold, blowing winds prompted him to seek shelter. Already a few snowflakes were fluttering out of the sky, flying into his cheeks as he turned away, re-gathering the box of tools in his arms and headed for the door Dustin promised he'd leave a key for.

Searching under the backdoor mat, Steve found the promised key, and true to the rest of Dustin's word, the entire home was empty, save for the cat that chirped a greeting for him from atop the kitchen counter. With a deep intake of breath Steve glanced at his watch, stepped inside, and shut the door behind him, wondering if he really was prepared for the worst. In the trunk of his car his bat waited for him, ready to be put to use just in case shit really did hit the fan, but he found himself questioning if he'd really be able to use it; bludgeoning monsters to death was one thing, but turning it on a boy he knew was only a monster figuratively was something else entirely.

For both his and Billy's sakes, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Shrugging out of his thick coat, Steve set it down beside him as he took a seat on the Henderson's couch. He glanced at his watch again, dismayed by the fact that time wasn't progressing as fast as he wished it was and sat in anxious worry about what the rest of the night might have in store.

But at least he was comfortable and warm.

The cellar was not.

It wasn't the cold that Billy minded, so much as it was the anticipation: when would the transformation start? Exactly at sundown? A little before? A little after? Would he actually end up transforming? And why the fuck did the word 'transform' make him so damn uncomfortable? The unknown factors surrounding his circumstances were almost worse than any of the physical symptoms he'd been experiencing as of late, and he'd been experiencing a lot.

Anxiety wasn't something Billy had a lot of experience with, but it was the only thing he could think of that explained why his heart had been beating oddly all day. It was running at a notably higher rate, as though he'd been playing basketball or working out extraneously, and brought on palpitations he wasn't used to dealing with at the elevated speed.

In short he felt terrible. His whole body ached like it was going through puberty again. Both his arms and legs were sore in ways that mimicked the aches that came with growing pains when he'd had them, but he couldn't understand why he would begin to hurt in that way again. He hadn't had the energy to work out in two days despite eating practically anything he could get his hands on, so the soreness in his limbs was unwarranted. Either his body was preparing itself for the coming night, or he was having an incredibly drawn-out heart attack.

Standing at the foot of the stairwell, Billy felt the cold permeating in through the closed opening and moved away to find a better spot to wait. He wanted rub his arms to bring some warmth into them, but couldn't with the way they were bound. Already the ropes were beginning to dig into his wrists, rubbing uncomfortably against his skin as he realized he wasn't actually that cold anyway, despite the frigid weather; his body temperature had been on a steady incline leading up to now, leaving him with a rosy complexion and a near constant fever, the long-term effects of which left him feeling severely disoriented.

He could barely remember meeting up at Steve's house only a few hours ago to carpool to his kid friend's house, riding with the windows down in spite of the severe wind-chill as they went into town to get lunch and buy rope. Even though they'd ridden together, he couldn't remember now if they'd actually talked about anything or not. All he could remember were the low tones of the radio and the resonating throbs of the wind as it swooped in through the open windows, rushing to fill the audial space between them. It was as though his mind had been steeped in a fog, and he couldn't accurately think through it: everything was clouded over, incomprehensible, like waking up the morning after a bender and being unable to remember everything he'd done the night before, but knowing all the same that he'd taken part in some memorable shit.

Would there be pain, he wondered, and would it come on as suddenly as it had to the character in the movie he'd made Steve watch? Even though 'American Werewolf' was just a movie, stories like that had to spawn from some sort of truth, didn't they?

The dim little lightbulb that hung overhead flickered briefly, drawing Billy's attention to it as he took a seat at the work table's bench, wishing his eyes weren't a dry and sore as they were.

Coming from above, he could hear the muffled sounds of a TV show permeating through the cellar's ceiling. He couldn't help but think ill of Steve in that moment, but if their situations had been reversed, he probably would have been doing the same thing; he couldn't fault Harrington for finding a way to pass the time, though he wished he had something similar to do for himself. There was nothing interesting to hold his attention, and time passed at a dreadfully slow rate.

Stretching out on the bench, he laid himself down slowly, mindful of which parts of his back hurt the most, and gazed up at the cement overhead disinterestedly. He listened to the muffled sounds of the distant television, trying to conjure an image in his mind that corresponded with what little dialogue he could hear, but the rapid beating of his heart overpowered the noises coming from the TV. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing in an attempt to lower his heart rate, but it just kept going, pounding in a determined rhythm that seemed to be quickening with each passing minute. A bead of sweat trickled down from his scalp and over his ear as he wondered if the tingling he felt in the tips of his fingers was because of the cold or from the ropes being tied too tight.

He flexed his fingers, opening and closing his hands into a fist to try and bring sensation back into his fingertips, but to no avail. They remained numb, and the cause of which eluded him.

Frowning, Billy stiffly sat up and began to pinch at his skin, belatedly realizing that the numbness was spreading slowly down the lengths of his fingers, a sensation that sent a chill running down the length of his spine.

"Oh," he said. "Oh shit."

The pain, when he finally did begin to feel it, started in his feet. There were still thirty minutes before the sun went down.

Billy licked his lips nervously as he tried to get his boots off, his numb fingers and bound hands fumbling uselessly with the laces as the pain centralized in his toes and grew in sudden intensity. He was no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything he'd ever felt before: it was sharp and stabbing, with each throb of pain stemming from the bones in his toes, as though they were growing more pointed in an attempt to pierce their way through his skin as they elongated. He could feel them cracking; each joint slowly popping free of itself as the bones began to push themselves forward.

"Oh, shit," he repeated, and could hear the muffled sounds of a laugh track from whatever sitcom Steve had turned on upstairs roaring in delight as he struggled to finally pull his boots off.

The stabbing sensation didn't relent, even once his shoes lay discarded by his feet. He peeled away his socks with shaking hands and stared down at his toes.

They'd turned a bright, beet red and were bulging like they might burst apart, his skin bubbling up around toenails that were already starting to peel off. He couldn't help the whimper as he tentatively felt them, a pain like touching a freshly popped, skinless blister causing him to draw his fingers back.

It was real. It was happening.

Sweating freely now, he reached away from his feet to brush his dampened hair away from his forehead as sweat rolled down the sides of his face. He paused when he felt his hair pull free from his scalp, clinging to the back of his hand stubbornly. Billy stared at the loose, curly strands with a horrified expression and reached up with a shaking hand to grab more. When he pulled, a handful of his hair came away easily, eliciting another whimper from deep within his throat. Disgusted and frightened, he threw his hair away to the floor.

Breathing quickly, he hastily rubbed his hands free of the loose strands in a panic and tried to calm himself. His whole body trembled as he breathed in deeply through his nose, wondering if he should try to call out to Steve to alert him that the worst case scenario was indeed unfolding. Another laugh track from upstairs came through the ceiling as he felt a sharp, sudden stab of pain in his ribs, prompting him to gasp loudly and curl forward over himself. He could actually feel some part of his ribcage shifting inside his torso as he tucked his arms in to his sides. Any lingering thoughts of trying to remain calm left him as he transitioned from panic to full on fear.

He stood up not knowing what he was going to do, but regretted it instantly: as soon as he put weight on his foot, his ankle collapsed in on itself and brought him to the floor. A shout almost came out with his fall, but he managed to internalize the pain as he was used to doing and grit his teeth as his foot essentially broke itself in half.

The central part of his foot that arched snapped without warning. Billy swore loudly and reached for his foot instinctively, wanting to hold the break in place, but he couldn't bear the agony that came with the contact. Warm tears leaked from his eyes, and when his other lateral arch also split in half, he couldn't help but cry out.

From up above, the noises coming from the television ceased. Steve must have heard him and was listening for him now, trying to gauge whether or not he should intervene. Billy clenched his jaw tighter, determined to keep quiet, but gasped loudly when two of his molars gave out under the pressure, snapping to the side and coming loose of his gumline. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth as he spat the teeth out, shuddering uncontrollably when he felt the vertebrae in his spine begin to pop, one by one, pushing up against his skin that was quickly beginning to feel too tight.

Huffing in great breaths of air, he panted heavily as the bones of his tones finally pierced through his skin, causing most of the flesh surrounding them to burst open like little balloons. Blood splattered across the floor in gruesome, miniature arcs and Billy finally, finally became undone. He shrieked, unable to keep silent any longer as new appendages could be seen inside the flayed bits of bloody skin, slowly growing outward, already a part of him.

Warm tears of pain streaked down his face in thick lines as the skin of his feet continued to be ripped apart, making way for more muscle, new flesh. He wiped at his eyes helplessly and thought he could hear Steve's voice distantly calling out his name, asking if everything was alright.

He blinked, his vision blurred by the tears that would not clear away as he pulled himself over to the stairway.

Shaking wildly all over, Billy stretched out on the floor, realizing belatedly that the waistband of his jeans was growing tighter and tighter. Hissing sharply, he cursed himself for not having the foresight to undress himself as he hastily tried to undo his belt. A pain similar to the initial agony he'd felt in his toes was beginning to manifest itself in his fingers as both of his hands slowly began to turn red, swelling up under the bonds of the rope as he fumbled with the buckle, desperately trying to get it to come free.

"Fuck!" he shouted in frustration, his clothing growing ever tighter as his body continued to bloat. He felt like he was being pinched in half with his belt acting as an unneeded tourniquet. "Fuck! Fuck!"

"Hey! Talk to me Hargrove, what's going on?"

Steve's worried voice trilled down through the cellar doors as he continued vocalizing his frustrations. Billy felt an organ in his abdomen shift out of place before popping, prompting him to groan and curl in on himself before he threw up. His couldn't undo his belt as his vision began to darken.

"Hargrove!" Steve shouted, banging a fist against the steel door. "What the hell's going on? Talk to me!"

"Fuck you!" Billy screamed, unable to articulate anything else as he tried to rub the blackness out of his eyes, but the more he pressed his fingers to them, they more they began to hurt.

A pressure was building up behind them the more he rubbed, and as it increased, his vision grew ever darker. He kept blinking, over and over, feeling his eyes bulge out of their sockets and against his eyelids, trying now to keep his eyeballs in place. He was hyperventilating when he finally went blind, the pressure behind his eyes becoming intolerable eyes before it finally came too much, and his eyes popped free.

He felt them slide out onto over his checks and onto the floor, the slimy, blood-slick nerves leaving tracks of blood on his face as he became totally and completely blind.

"No," he whispered to himself, retching again on the floor as he scrambled across the cement, trying to find the stairs, unable to see. "No, no! This isn't real!"

Beyond the cellar doors, Steve had his ear pressed against the slight crack between the panels, desperately trying to understand what was going on. He wasn't sure what to make of the noises he was hearing, unable to determine if Billy was just trying to mess with him or if he was in actual distress.

"Hargrove," he said impatiently, turning his head to try and peak in through the crack to get a glimpse of what was going on, "you gotta start talking to me, man; what the hell's going on down there?"

"I'm fucking blind," he heard Billy shout, his voice rife with fear. "I can't see anything!"

His voice was shaking as he spoke, and Steve knew then that whatever was happening was legitimate; Billy wasn't one to openly show weakness.

"Okay, stay calm," Steve stammered, but he wasn't sure if that was actually sound advice or not. "It's- it's going to be okay, okay?"

Billy howled, and Steve understood that the pain that carried with his voice must have been terrible to get him to shriek like that. He licked his lips anxiously, not knowing what support he could possibly offer him. He continuously opened and shut his mouth, words of encouragement dying on his tongue before he could manage to speak them.

And then, all at once, the cacophony of agony ceased.

Steve couldn't hear anything over the rapid sound of his breathing for a moment before he finally spoke: "Hargrove? Is… are you okay?"

"Hurts." Billy's voice, quiet, strained, and barely audible over the sounds of things (flesh, fabric) slowly tearing, sounded disconcertingly like he was speaking with a throat full of water. It was gargling and grotesque; completely unlike the smooth, honeyed voice he'd become known for.

"Okay, what, uh, what… what hurts?" Steve whispered in response, fear quieting his previously urgent tone.

"Everything."

"Shit," Steve said to himself, backing away from the cellar door panels as the sounds of something large and heavy being knocked over made him jump. "Just, uh, stay calm," he said, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it to himself or Billy. From down below, he heard Billy groan loudly before going silent again.

Steve's heart was pounding as he hesitated, unsure of what to do. All the details of Billy's haphazardly concocted plan fled his mind as he tried to think back on what they'd agreed to do if something ended up happening, and his first instinct was to open the doors to go down and check on him. He looked at the chains wrapped tightly around the door handles and bit his lip before crouching down and pressing his eye to the crack.

The overhead light wasn't bright enough to reveal much, but at the base of the stairwell there was a small circle of illumination. Steve squinted, ignoring the cold of the steel as he pressed his face against the door, trying to see all that he could.

Blood stains. Torn bits of… something he couldn't quite make out. Dark masses on the stairwell; lots of evidence that pointed towards Billy transforming, but no trace of Billy himself.

"Hargrove," Steve whispered, and then shook his head to clear himself of his cowardice. "Hargrove," he said again, louder and with more emphasis, "dude, you have to talk me through what's happening down there."

He waited, unconsciously holding his breath as he waited for a reply. It was steadily growing darker as the sun slowly sank, making it all the harder to see into the cellar from the tiny slit. Frowning and unable to see anything, Steve turned his head and pressed his ear against the door. From somewhere in the depths of the cellar he could hear something breathing heavily. It was moving, too; he could hear something shuffling, moving around the floor space cautiously.

When he turned his head again to see through the crack, he caught a glimpse of... something large and hulking cross under the light, tall enough to set the lightbulb swinging. He couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath of air, his lungs and throat burning with the sting of the cold weather. The thing- whatever Billy had become- halted just outside the rim of light. Entranced, Steve found he couldn't move as it emitted a low, threatening growl that sounded more like a man impersonating a dog than an actual beast.

From his limited viewpoint, he couldn't see the way the muscles in its legs were tightening, or how it had begun to crouch; he didn't have time to react as it sprang forward, jumping up the stairs in a single leap to ram itself against the doors.

The chains held the doors shut, but the sudden impact smashed the metal against Steve's nose and soon all he could smell was blood as it drained out of his nostrils. He fell backwards, holding his nose as the Billy-creature growled again. Horrified, Steve could only sit in the snow and watch as the doors lurched forward when Billy rammed against them again, trying to escape. The second impact loosened the restraints, and all Steve could do in that moment was watch as they rattled uselessly in place, beginning to slip through the handles as they hadn't been properly locked into place.

Cursing to himself, staggered to his feet and rushed to grab the chains, but as Billy threw his body against the doors again it soon became obvious that even if the doors stayed shut, they were about to pop free of their hinges entirely. Blood dripped down over his lips and onto the metal panels as he tried to think of what he could possibly do to counteract the damage Billy had done. In an act of desperation, he threw himself against the steel and hoped that his added bodyweight would be enough to keep them in place.

If it managed to do anything, he couldn't tell. Almost immediately Billy was throwing himself against the doors again, nearly bucking Steve off.

"Stop!" Steve cried out, grasping for the chains to hold them in place. His fingers scrabbled against the cold steel links even as Billy let out another deep, throaty growl. With the doors as loose as they were, Steve was almost certain the doors wouldn't survive another body-slam. "Give it up, Hargrove!" Steve said again, desperately. "Just- fuck, Billy, stop!"

He braced himself for another impact, but it never came. Eyes closed in anticipation, Steve blinked them open and exhaled shakily, his fingers trembling as he let the chains go. Crystalized air puffed out in front of his face over and over as he rolled off the doors and stood up unsteadily, trying to wipe away the blood that had already frozen over and turned to crust on his upper lip. Somehow, miraculously, his pleading had worked, but before he could take comfort in that fact, other disturbing sounds began to creep back up to him from down below.

Things were being tossed around; the metallic clang of old paint cans being bounced off the floors and walls mixed with the hoarse, angry vocalizations of the creature Billy had become made his blood run colder than the air currently was. The noises Billy was making were at once both animalistic and human, deep and throaty and more akin to the bellows of a moose than a man or wolf.

Steve stood in front of the cellar doors not knowing what to do. Already their plan was falling apart, and he was quickly becoming aware of how vastly unprepared he was to handle the situation. He wanted the security of the bat in his trunk, but didn't trust himself to leave the doors unattended for the length of time it would take him to run back inside and grab his keys to get it, but he felt so weak without it.

Another loud, crashing noise came from within and Steve stilled, listening intently. Faintly, he could hear Billy snuffling about, and after the sun finally completely descended, all was quiet. His nose was throbbing as he stood attentively, but when nothing more could be heard, his stomach sank.

With trembling hands and his mind screaming at him to stop, he knelt by the doors and slowly unwound the chains from the handles. The fact that he couldn't hear anything coming from within didn't sit well with him; he had to make sure Billy was still down there.

He tried to shift the chains as quietly as possible, but with how nervous he was, he had a hard time keeping his hands steady. They rattled noisily against the door, grating on his already frazzled nerves as they slid free. Heart pounding madly, Steve carefully pulled the doors open and took the first step down into the cellar.

It was silent. He couldn't hear anything as he hesitantly took a second step, mentally berating himself over and over for being stupid enough to walk defenseless into the lion's mouth. He had no idea what Billy was capable of now, or if he'd even recognize him enough to (hopefully) have enough sense to not harm him. The lightbulb that dangled freely from the ceiling was swaying, throwing its light around erratically, showing him glimpses of the gore that lined the steps.

Eyes wide, Steve gagged at the sight of the flayed strips of bloodied skin that were splattered near everywhere. He had to avert his eyes as he took another step, making slow progress as he was careful not to step in any of the mess. At the bottom of the stairs he warily peered around the walls, hoping he'd only stuck his head into the lion's mouth figuratively. To his immediate relief, but long-term dismay, there was no trace of Billy to be seen in the space of the cellar.

Exhaling deeply, Steve tried to even out his breathing as he came to stand in the middle of the room, looking around to assess the damage. As the swinging lightbulb steadied, he turned towards where the shelf that was hiding the tunnel had been and found it on the ground, knocked to its side and several feet away from where it had originally been positioned. His shoulders drooped at the realization of Billy's escape.

He went and stood before the opening of the tunnel and felt all hope of remedying the situation vanish. A numbness overtook him as he recognized his responsibilities of keeping Billy captive had changed; he was the only one who knew about Billy's circumstances, and he was the only one who could do anything about it now. Distantly, and much further away then he would've liked, he could hear the muted, labored sounds of Billy's breathing as he escaped confinement through the underground system.

The burden of his responsibilities threatened to overwhelm him in that instant, but instead of letting himself be overtaken by despair, Steve took a deep, steadying breath and rolled his shoulders back. He hesitated for only a minute before he took charge and ran in after him, disregarding his urgent need to turn back and get his bat out of the car. There was no time, he thought; no time to get a weapon, no time to get a flashlight. If Billy was now as the werewolf in the woods was, then he was capable of speeds greater than Steve could muster, and every second mattered. If he lost his trail now, then it would be lost to him entirely. There was no time; he had to go now or he wouldn't go at all.

Alone and unarmed Steve ran, chasing after Billy into the dark, cold tunnel, hoping he would be able to catch him in time, and dreading the repercussions that would come if he couldn't.

#harringrove #harringrove fic #billy hargrove/steve harrington #billy/steve #steve harrington #billy hargrove #werewolf!billy #slow burn #long fic #stranger things #stranger things fic

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d-noona · 7 years ago

Text

AERO

SUMMARY: In a future of political, economic and moral collapse, a genetically enhanced superhuman prototype named Y/N escapes from military confines and dwells amidst the decadent underground street life of *Seoul* to avoid government agents who want to bring her back into the fold.

WORDS: 2233

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

M.List | CH. 05

CHAPTER 04 - MEETING THE INFORMANT NET

After Y/N's last run of deliveries, she surveys the place, and in a nearby window her pupils dilated to zoom in to the other building just right across. She sees several admirable statues and displays that she can probably fence for a large wad of cash. Y/n goes to an alley way, climbs up the side of the building, reaching the top. She takes off her black glasses. A distant car headlight sweeps her and Y/n's pupil glow for a split second with a green retinal reflection, much like of a cat. As y/n looks up into the night shadows of an alley between high rises. Wearing a skin tight black pants, rubber soled high-tops, a black leather jacket, and black gloves. She is a silhouette in the darkness. She hefts a black nylon bag over her shoulder. Once on top she disables the roof security camera with a piece of black tape over its lenses, she crosses to the edge overlooking the alley. The street is twenty two stories down. Her target is a narrow roof formed by a setback in the facade of the next building, one hundred feet below her and eight feet away horizontally.

Holding on tight on her gear bag as it is unzipped. Y/n's gloved hand yank out a large bundle of black nylon rope. She hinged the lock as a carbine is snapped around a steel pipe. She stepped on to the parapet, jumps at a down angle, as she plummets down the face of the building. She adds arm pressure to the belay around her waist, then inverts with a snap, dropping feet first now, the rope making shush sounds across her leather jacket. Y/n now builds later speed across the face of the glass high-rise. She reaches the bottom of the arc, the rope stretching, taking the shock, and her lateral speed wipes the world into a blur.

Y/n arcs upward, starting to slow. As she flashes above the parapet of the target rooftop, she then releases the belay, and lets the rope slide through her arm, dropping onto the rooftop with a soft thump, feet-first, crouching like a tiger or a panther light on its feet. She then turns onto the skylight , as y/n jimmies the latch and lifts the cover, she ties a rope on a steel pole, dropping herself ever so gracefully into the spacious apartment.

Nodding in approval looking at the luxurious space of the apartment and its architectural design, she goes to work, padding gently to the apartment. She opens drawers, looks inside cabinets, picking up object examining them. Y/n enters another room silently, hefts a small porcelain figurine, 17th century Venetian. She slips it into her bag, a pair of small gold dolphins follow. Y/n then hears something, she investigates further, peeps in a room with a man talking. Stokes on a computer keyboard. The walls are bathed in a blur CRT glow as Y/n slips the door open a few inches and looks in to the room.

A man still sitting at a bank of computer monitors, half a dozen screens, racks of computer gear and peripherals of all descriptions. The room is dark except for the glow of the screens and power lights winking from the equipment. Haphazard heaps of papers, photos, files and printouts are piled everywhere on very expensive antique tables and couches. The man Jeon Jungkook, is speaking directly into the video camera.

"Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a video of Free Korea Bulletin. The cable hack will last exactly sixty seconds. It cannot be traced. It cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left in this city..." Y/n slowly walks out of the room and continues rummaging the belongings of the cyber hacker.

Y/n can't see Jungkook's face directly because his back is turned, but she can see him in one of the monitors. Early 20's with intense, almost haggard, yet strikingly handsome features. His brown doe eyes blaze with intelligence and he projects a fierce energy as he speaks. Y/s registers surprise as she realizes who the guy is. The pirate cyber journalist known as Informant Net in the flesh.

Jungkook scrolls back through the video he has just digitalized and hits a key command which processes the image through a masking filter. Pixilation blurs the contours of his face, leaving only the intense eyes clear. He watches it to check that the effect is complete.

Y/n knew she was right, he was just on the same deal as everyone else. Power hungry, living and hiding under his expensive apartment. He seemingly is a part of the richer parts of the City. Y/n slowly backs out the door and stops as she sees something. On a table just inside the room, is a statue, an Egypt-deco affair of gold and onyx depicting a creature half-female, half cat. It's illuminated from above a single pin point of light. Y/n looks at it utterly transfixed, she snags it and backs out of the room. As she stuffs the statue on her bag and heads back out.

Then a security guard, Ruben, has found the rope. He flicks his Maglite up to the open skylight and his eyes go wide. He un-holsters his 9mm, scanning and listening around him. He crosses to the alarm panel near the door and punches in the silent alarm code. As Y/n approaches, the guard is scanning the shadows his gun sweeping the room as he moves forward and y/n is moving down the hall toward him on a collision course from the other side. She senses something on a level that no ordinary man or woman could feel, a sound, a vibration, the guard's body heat perhaps. As he approaches the corner and pops around the wall corridor, it was empty.

Y/n slips through the door quietly but suddenly stops, lit only by a night light, a woman lying on bed with a young girl about 7 years of age, having just tucked her into bed. The woman Janna Reid and her younger sister Juliette. Janna looks up locking eyes with Y/n as she screams in fear "In here! Help, in here!"

Jungkook hears the cries and shoves aside a pile of papers and grabs a pump shotgun as he chambers around. Ruben breaks into a run heading for Janna and Juliette's room, as Janna grabs a lamp and hurls it with all her strength at Y/n.

Y/n's body reacts, the lamp tumbles end over end, in slow motion Y/n moves with amazing speed seemingly blurring the world. The guard flings the door open, sweeping his gun towards Y/n. Y/n sees everything in slow motion, except for Y/n who is moving in a rather much faster pace. Y/n easily ducks the lamp, which is just shattered against the wall as the guard takes aim with a two handed grip. The room goes dark as the lightbulb explodes. Y/n moves sideways before the guard can pull the trigger.

The room strobes with the shot but the bullet goes where Y/n was, not where she is now which is halfway to the guard moving like a freight train. A second shot was heard, the bullet carves the air next to her. She reaches the guy and gets a hand on the gun, yanking it down and around in a sweeping roundhouse which twists it out of his hand. The guard Ruben was 6'3" and 250 pounds, mostly muscle. Y/n follows through with a foot sweep takedown and drops onto the guy hard with his arm twisted behind his back. Y/n unloads the pistol sliding out the magazine and jacking out the chambered round. She throws the gun away and mag the other. The guard struggles to move but Y/n drops onto him knee first again, knocking the wind out for a while. Y/n looks up at the terrified woman and the crying little girl.

"Sorry" she whispers to the ladies as she bolts out the door, she sprints down the hall. Suddenly, Jungkook appears in front of her with a shotgun leveled at her. It has a built in mini-xenon light and it is blinding her night vision, making it hard to see exactly where he is aiming at. She is at a momentary disadvantage. Though Y/n knows with a sweep of her finger she can probably cause the poor man to be thrown by the wall since her abilities have improved vastly for over a thousand years. She however was amused by the man's predicament and decides to play along.

"Put it down" says Jungkook. Y/n does this and drops the bag on the floor. Jungkook calls to Janna, eyes riveted on Y/n. "Janna, are you okay?" he asks. Janna not going out of the room, creaks the door open and answers "We're alright Jungkook." Jungkook scans the room to look for the beaten security guard. "Ruben" he shouts.

Y/n smirks at Jungkook, knowing that he may be looking for the poor man lying on the floor. "If he's the side of beef with the walkie-talkie, he's okay, but give the man a few minutes. He's a little bit knocked out for a while." Jungkook sees the statue peeking out of the open bag amazed and relieved. "You're a thief?"

"Girl's gotta make a living." As y/n responds with a Cheshire grin on her face. The frazzled and confused Jungkook responds "Thank God. I was expecting someone else."

"First time I heard that. Guess you weren't expecting the pizza delivery guy." Y/n responds sarcastically. She turns around as she heard a creak on a door as she's Janna hanging back in the bedroom attempting to pacify the crying child. "Im sorry if I caught you at a bad time." She responds to both Jungkook and Janna.

"It's alright were just a little tense right now." Jungkook withdraws a bit but keeping a wary eye on the beautiful thief. He notices the status hanging on Y/n's bag. "You have good taste. French, 1920's attributed to Chitarus." He says.

"Yeah. Whoever that is." As y/n responds nonchalantly. Jungkook tilts his head and quirks an eyebrow at the woman standing in front of him "So what? You liked it because it was shiny?" Y/n taking a note on the sarcasm floating out of the man's mouth. Y/n seemingly wiser beyond years stares at the man blankly and responds in the most monotonous voice to contrast the man's sarcasm. "No, because it's the Egyptian Goddess Bast. The Goddess who comprehends all Goddesses, Eye of Ra, protector, avenger and destroyer. Giver of life, who lives forever. I can keep going you know..."

Jungkook just looks at her, fascinated. Then, Ruben emerges from the bedroom, holding his ribs as he fumbles out his handcuffs and heads for Y/n. Jungkook panics "Stay back Ruben. The guards are on their way."

Too late. Y/n moves like lightning, grabbing Ruben's wrist as he reaches for her. Yanking him off balance and getting him in a sharply painful come-along hold with one hand bent up behind his back. Y/n has maneuvered him between her and the shotgun, trumping Jungkook's hold over her. She gave him a smile "Look, I'd love to discuss art but I gotta jet." She marches Ruben backwards into the living room controlling the big bodyguard with the thumb-hold and keeping him between her and Jungkook.

"Easy, easy. My wrist is gonna snap" Ruben pleads in pain as he attempts to calm the girl. Y/n responds to him "Yep. That could happen" then she turns to Jungkook and grins "By the way. I love you show"

At that moment there is a thundering crash at the front door. Y/n's head snaps around as a squad of private security cops wearing ballistic armor haul back and pound the door again with a steel battering ram. The doors were blasted open and a group of heavily armed rent-a-cops spill inside, their flashlights sweeping the apartment. As they raise their weapons towards Y/n she salutes the men. Moving like grease lightning as she bolts away from Ruben, who finds himself suddenly handcuffed to a heavy wrought-iron table. As the security squad moved, they submerged to try and stop her. She runs like a black blur. Jungkook yells for them to stop with his words distended "Noooo! Waaaiiiittt!!!"

Y/n crosses her arms over her face and hits the window at a full run. The glass explodes outwards in a diamond shower. Y/n disappears into the night, like she was never there. The cops didn't even get a shot off. As Jungkook runs to the window to check on the poor woman to see if she is still alive, he looks down. He catches a glimpse of Y/n leaping from balcony to balcony, down the face of the building ninety feet below. She vanishes into the shadows at a street level. Jungkook watching in fascinated awe as the curtains blow around him in the night wind.

#jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #min yoongi #bangtan sonyeandan #bts #jungkook x reader #action #fan fic #romance

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mollykittykat · 8 years ago

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The Cupboard Game pt. 6

(AU in which Splinter evaded the contents of the mutagen canister and ended up raising the turtles as a human.

No real warnings apply. Mostly family fluff/action-adventure with a teeny hint of angst. (Also available on A03: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10471893/chapters/24056478))

Despite the gloomy rumble of the surrounding rain and the pervasive scent of raw meat the masked men proceeded with feigned confidence, the two allies who had been previously guarding the gate joining the sole surviver of the first attack in entering the meat packing plant. Behind them the door to the alley slowly creaked on it's hinges, a shimmering beam from a New York streetlamp casting a meager spotlight on a second door at the end of the room; the entrance to a meat locker, wide open, bidding the intruders inside. "Jig is up Mister Takada" one of them shouted, companions scanning the other sides of the room in case the open meat locker was merely a diversion. "Come on out, and we might be inclined to give you a second shot at Don Visioso's offer." In truth they had no basis to make that claim. It was merely an attempt to draw their target into the open, if only to avoid having to enter the dark maw of the fridge. In the end the search of the corridor came up empty and Daiki gave no response, leaving the trio with little choice but to delve deeper into the darkness.

It was three against one, and yet amidst the hoard of hanging carcasses Visioso’s goons felt outnumbered. It was all the worse for the one currently heading the group with his gun drawn, who had witnessed their hidden target render seven men insensible just a few minutes before. The door gently swung shut behind him with a dull heavy thud, and he immediately retaliated by sending a spray of sparking bullets into the wall surrounding the door.

"Hey! Hey easy!" One companion, a laid-back older man who was all bulk beneath his one-size-too-small ski mask, grabbed hold of the weapon and forcibly lowered it. “Can’t let ‘im know where we’re coming from. We gotta sneak up on’im” The gunman, on the other hand, knew all too well from his experience that if he didn’t act at the first given opportunity the shoe was going to end up on the other foot. He pulled his weapon back up with a rebellious jerk, threatening to send another round of lead into the surrounding darkness. “Aye, s’gonna be alright!” his companion said again, speaking louder despite making no further attempts to disarm the other “You’ve got two of Visioso’s best bodyguards with ya, don’t he Frankie?” Franklyn, who had been the second man removed from his post at the gate, was a younger sailor sort, decked out in tattoos and so muscular he was practically neckless, constantly emitting the strong scent of Italian Cigars. At the moment this scent was masked by raw meat, his body hidden behind the merchandise that paid no response. "Frankie!" Again no answer. Then there was a low thump, like one of the cows had fallen off of it's hook. When the two followed the sound they discovered a body sprawled out on the floor, dressed in a suit and carrying the faint scent of cigars. The one with the gun took a step back, his expression pinched with tension “Oh no. Oh no Frankie” “C’mon, ee’s still breathe’n” The elder bent down and placed two fingers against the point where Frankie’s neck immediately met his shoulders, trying locate the pulse before eventually noting the rise and fall of the chest. “Aye, don’t panic. We stick together, we find this guy, we knock him silly. Capiche?” “Easy for you to say! You haven’t seen him man!” Weapon now shaking slightly, the other didn’t look at his sole remaining companion. His eyes instead were on the meat, searching them for any sign of movement between the shadows. He backed off, keeping his blindside shielded by the various hanging slabs, losing his partner in the darkness of the corners of his vision. “Y’know, maybe we should just open fire, wreck everything in sight!” he suggested with a nervous laugh “He’s got to be hiding somewhere ‘round here, right?” He turned his head back and forth briefly, waiting for some word of refusal or confirmation. All was silent. His final remaining ally was gone, lost amongst the hanging meat and the distant patter of rain.There was another thump like something heavy hitting the floor, this one preceded by a muffled yelp cut short. Knowing what was in store if he followed the sound he didn’t bother to pursue the matter. The final goon was practically hugging his tommy gun now, shivering far more violently than he had been before, his back pressed firmly against the icy hide of a slab of beef. He opened fire once again, secretly hoping for some sort of familiar reprimand from out of the darkness to prove he wasn’t alone. When nothing came, when no hand reached out to gently lower his gun, he opened fire again… this time aiming toward where he thought he heard the patter of footsteps. More silence. More maddening silence. The last man standing took a few seconds to wonder if they had been hired to chase after a phantom as he breathed heavily, trying to discern between the threat of footsteps and the thud of his own heartbeats. He was reaching into his belt for another round of bullets, when the slab he was leaning against suddenly jolted forward like it had been shoved by an opposing force, knocking him off balance. Spinning around the lone gunman unloaded a full clip into the beef, shells clattering against the floor, a long frightened scream tearing from his throat. When things went quiet and the weapon could emit nothing more than empty clicks, the thug’s stomach dropped as quickly and suddenly as his abrasive manner. As if he himself was under the threat of gunfire he threw the empty gun to the ground and put his hands in the air, backing his way toward the shut door.

“Look, look I’m done see? You win!” he called, upraised hands now shivering violently in place of the gun. He received a response: hands reached out and grabbed his wrists, knotting his arms tightly behind his back before a knee slammed him against the ground. Before he could so much as scream his face was pressed against damp concrete, the dark shadows of his his two strongest comrades laying just in view.“Ten men against one” Splinter’s voice growled from atop his victim “I know your employer doesn’t value honor, but this is ridiculous" “Oh my God! Oh my God please, don’t hurt me!” Splinter kept the man pinned, but couldn’t help but gain an annoyed expression when he heard the goon’s pathetic tone. Judging by the struggles he was in a fitful state of panic, which Splinter figured might as well be put to good use.He ground his knee into the man’s back, holding both his arms at such an angle as to threaten dislocation. The thug started shouting louder, tears wetting his rain-soaked mask.“C’mon! It was just orders! I’ll do anythin’ ya’ say! anythin’!” Splinter leaned down close, keeping the arms locked in a painful restraint. “Which one of you has the keys to your car?” “Frankie! Frankie has it, th’man with no neck and all the tattoos!” “Thank you” With that, Splinter jabbed two fingers into the side of the struggling captive’s neck, rendering him unconscious. Then he made his way back over to Frankie to check him over, and sure enough there were a set of keys in the back of his pocket, hooked together by a little Italian flag keychain. Splinter couldn’t help but wear a small relieved smile, gripping the well earned keys tightly to his chest before turning around and racing back out toward the parking lot, not even bothering to give the trail of unconscious bodies so much as a second glance as he made his way to the vehicle with the slightest limp to his step.

Peering out into the hallway, Marco and Vinnie had not yet pieced together in their minds that the stash of children’s books were in any way connected to the creatures they had just saw.Were they gremlins? Aliens? They shot various possibilities back and forth between each other, wondering whether or not they should abandon the apartment to pursue the little green monsters that had shrieked and scampered away. In the end Marco volunteered to chase them down while Vinnie stayed put, continuing the raid while pulling out his phone, feeling the need to express to the rest of the group that they had found something worth consideration as he dialed Don Visioso’s number.Leonardo and Donatello were scampering down the hall hand in hand, forged together by equal desperation. Donnie suggested making the elevator their goal, but Leonardo refuted it. As much as he would’ve liked to ride an elevator the dangers of accidentally getting caught in a small space alongside unwanted company was all too apparent, even to a preschooler. He remembered Splinter’s instructions. They needed to get to the fire escape on floor five.The two stumbled their way to a flight of stairs, rushing up on all fours in order to scale the metal steps with better efficiency. The vacant corridor around them had a faint echo to it, and for a while Leonardo couldn’t quite make the distinction between the reverberation of their own frantic retreat and the heavy clomping of spats closing in from below. Only when the eldest turned his head and saw the looming shadow, hurrying at their heels like some sort of shapeless boogyman, did he realize that they weren’t nearly as far ahead as they hoped to be.Leo emitted a terrified yelp and viciously pressed a hand against his sibling’s shell, trying to force his younger brother to quicken his already straining pace.

While his elder brothers rushed to escape their pursuer, Mikey calmly strolled about the fifth floor. He had never seen the apartment hallways before excepting a few glances through closing doors, and he couldn’t help but pause to get an eyeful, the emptiness of the corridor putting him at ease. It was so big and spacious, perfect for a game of tag if only he was allowed. But right now was not play time, it was time to find the fire exit… even though Mikey just now came to the realization that he wasn’t really sure what a fire exit even looked like.He did, however, find a small lever looming just out of reach along the center of the wall. He didn’t care to put effort into reading the inscription that read “fire alarm,” as in his mind strange levers meant a mystery to be solved… maybe a secret superhero hideout!Momentarily forgetting his original mission he jumped to take hold of the lever, tiny green hands slapping the wall just short of it’s target. “What’er ya doin?” Mikey paused his efforts to look behind him, finding Raph wearing expression that could only be described as “annoyed inquisitiveness.” “Pulling the exit lever!” Mikey replied, giving an answer that he felt would most likely get his sibling off his case. Raphael looked at Michelangelo, then back up at the lever, then back at Michelangelo, then back at the lever. He squinted, and upon making out the word “fire” on the handle he figured that his little brother had found what he’d claimed. Sure, Splinter had described the fire exit as a big door with the apropos “fire exit” sign on it (which Mikey likely would’ve known if he had been paying attention), but maybe this particular exit was pull-lever activated.Either way, Raphael too was curious to walk away now. Without a word of warning he leapt up onto his Michelangelo’s shoulders, shoving his feet against his sibling’s forehead as he fought to climb up and take hold of the lever himself.

Closing in on their destination at a frantic pace Leo stopped looking back. He felt the stranger’s eyes beating against the back of his head, heard him thundering just short of him and his brother as they finally came upon the fifth floor and rounded the corner to escape into the hall. The voice of Marco shot up with an enthusiastic “gotcha!” when Donnie felt something grab the collar of his shell. Torn from the floor the turtle let loose a long terrified squeal. Leonardo didn’t even think twice before doubling back, losing his fear as he clung to the attacker’s leg and bore down on the meat of his calf with his teeth. The pant leg softened the blow, but the gesture still had it’s desired effect. There was a mess of frantic movement, the man shouting in pain and dropping Donnie as Leo continued to gnaw on the apprehended limb. Donnie, who had landed on his shell, worked to right himself as the thug gave a swift kick in order to release the toddler’s grip. He missed, and with a sharp shove Leo released the leg and sent Marco stumbling backward perilously over the edge of the stairwell. The sound of him tumbling head over heels all the way back to the first floor might have been rather comedic, had it not been covered up by the sound of a sudden loud blaring alarm accompanied by flashes of light.The world around them seemed to scream, hallways flaring up with bright red beams and an ear-piercing beeping.

Raphael let out a squeal and released the lever before falling backward onto his younger sibling. He was expecting any number of thing to happen once he succeeded in pulling the lever, but loud noises wasn’t one of those things. Suddenly feeling like he’d been the perpetrator of a really big mistake he forced his smaller brother to his feet, then began running to get away from the noise. He wasn’t sure which direction he was heading in, wanting nothing more than to escape the scene of the crime however possible. That was he and Michelangelo ran headlong into their siblings. Their collision drew all four children from their frantic states back into reality. Donnie, though still in tears, pointed out fire exit, taking a moment to scold his siblings for not noticing the big red glowing sign that said “exit” right next to a conspicuous door bearing an equally blatant “fire exit" sign. The scolding didn’t last long. Despite their limited knowledge of the world the turtles knew it would only be a matter of time before that alarm drew the attention of strangers, and the sooner they were out of sight the better. Working together the tots finally managed to push the door open and slip to the outside, making it to the landing of the fire escape just a mere few seconds before residents went stumbling out of their apartments, wondering what was going on and why… if there was no emergency… nobody had stopped the hideous noise yet. The rain shower had slowed a great deal since the storm began, but it was still wet and the reptiles couldn’t help but huddle together, the remaining dark clouds speckling them with rain and raking their skin over with wind. Descending the metal steps the children couldn’t help but think about how, even though they had already seen this part of the world through their window, the outside felt so very different from the inside. They could breath, the sky extended beyond mortal comprehension, and the New York Air… humid and dirty as it may have been… was to them fresh and exhilarating.The rain, however, was not quite as pleasant. Donatello was the first to start shivering, though Leonardo wondered briefly if it was from cold or from his recent encounter with the thug. “Donnie, do you see the storm drain?” Donatello nodded, pointing out a dark cavernous pit in the corner of the alley at the end of a rivulet of filthy rain water.The closer the quartet got to the drain, the less confident they felt about the hiding place. Mikey didn’t like the darkness, Raphael didn’t like the smell, Leo didn’t like the claustrophobic nature of that gap, and Donatello was theorizing that the location may be flooded after such a heavy rain shower. However, their father’s instructions were their only instructions, and standing out in the open wasn’t an option. Leonardo volunteered to go first to test the waters, literally and figuratively. His siblings gripping his hands and helping him through, his shell clearing the gap as he was released into the drainage ditch. Letting out a noise of disgust Leo leapt to his feet and found the water just barely met the level of his chest. The smell made him want to puke, but otherwise things seemed to be safe. Looking up at his brothers, the eldest gave a thumbs up and readied himself to catch whoever came next.

Splinter drove a little faster than was safe, barely straddling the line between simple recklessness and getting the police called on him. In the dry warmth of the lit car he could be seen sporting a large black bruise right above his left eye, scraped from the pavement but washed clean by rain. His breaths were short and shallow, but aside from that he gave little indication that he was in any pain, his face bearing a look of unshakable concentration as he stared daggers into his surroundings.He was not very practiced at driving. He knew how to do it, but he was far more accustomed to public transit. That fact, combined with his adrenaline fueled desperation, made for a perilous trip indeed. But it was faster than running, and the meat packing plant had only been a mere few blocks away from home. Splinter wondered briefly if showing up at the appartment in a strange car would rouse any suspicions. Or would anyone would really care so long as he left the keys with the car and made up some story about borrowing a vehicle from a friend? In either case his thoughts never wandered far from his sons, and the temptation to jump to conclusions and start preparing himself for the worst peaked when he finally reached his destination. He put the swiped vehicle in park right along the curbside, staring out the window at the flashing red and blue lights of two cop cars parked right outside his home. “Oh no.” Splinter threw the keys in the front seat and shut the door, burying his hands in the pockets of his soaked slacks as he climbed out of the car and raced toward the stoop of the apartment complex.

#the cupboard game #fanfiction #tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanfiction

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d-noona · 5 years ago

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AERO

Chapter 4: Meeting the Informant Net

Jaebeom sees the statue peeking out of the open bag amazed and relieved. "You're a thief?"

"Girl's gotta make a living." As she responds with a Cheshire grin on her face. The frazzled and confused Jaebeom responds "Thank God. I was expecting someone else."

"First time I heard that. Guess you weren't expecting the pizza delivery guy." -Seven

After Seven's last run of deliveries, she surveys the place, and in a nearby window her pupils dilated to zoom in to the other building just right across.

She sees several admirable statues and displays that she can probably fence for a large amount of money. Seven goes to an alley way, climbs up the side of the building, reaching the top. She takes off her black glasses. A distant car's headlight sweeps her and Seven's pupil glow for a split second with a green retinal reflection, much like of a cat. As Seven looks up into the night shadows of an alley between high rises. Wearing a skin tight black pants, rubber soled high-tops, black leather jacket, and black gloves. She is a silhouette in the darkness.

She hefts a black nylon bag over her shoulder. Once on top she disables the roof security camera with a piece of black tape over its lenses, she crosses to the edge overlooking the alley. The street is twenty two stories down. Her target is a narrow roof formed by a setback in the facade of the next building, one hundred feet below her and eight feet away horizontally.

Holding on tight on her gear bag as it is unzipped. Seven's gloved hand yank out a large bundle of black nylon rope. She hinged the lock as a carabiner is snapped around a steel pipe. She stepped on to the parapet, jumps at a down angle, as she plummets down the face of the building. She adds arm pressure to the belay around her waist, then inverts with a snap, dropping feet first, the rope making shush sounds across her leather jacket. Seven now builds later speed across the face of the glass high-rise. She reaches the bottom of the arc, the rope stretching, taking the shock, and her lateral speed wipes the world into a blur.

Seven arcs upward, starting to slow. As she flashes above the parapet of the target rooftop, she then releases the belay, and lets the rope slide through her arm, dropping onto the rooftop with a soft thump, feet-first, crouching like a tiger or a panther light on its feet. She then turns onto the skylight , as she jimmies the latch and lifts the cover, she ties a rope on a steel pole, dropping herself ever so gracefully into the spacious apartment.

Nodding in approval looking at the luxurious space of the apartment and its architectural design, she goes to work, padding gently to the apartment. She opens drawers, looks inside cabinets, picking up object examining them. Seven enters another room silently, hefts a small porcelain figurine, 17th century Venetian. She slips it into her bag, a pair of small gold dolphins follow. She then hears something, and investigates further, peeps in a room with a man talking. Stokes on a computer keyboard. The walls are bathed in a blur CRT glow as Seven slips the door open a few inches and looks in to the room.

A man still sitting at a bank of computer monitors, half a dozen screens, racks of computer gear and peripherals of all descriptions. The room is dark except for the glow of the screens and power lights winking from the equipment. Haphazard heaps of papers, photos, files and printouts are piled everywhere on very expensive antique tables and couches. The man, Im Jaebeom, is speaking directly into the video camera.

Seven slowly walks out of the room and continues rummaging the belongings of the cyber hacker. She couldn't see Jaebeom's face directly because his back is turned, but she can see him in one of the monitors. Early 20's with intense, almost haggard, yet strikingly handsome features. His brown piercing eyes blaze with intelligence and he projects a fierce energy as he speaks. Seven registers surprise as she realizes who the guy is. The pirate cyber journalist known as Informant Net in the flesh.

Jaebeom scrolls back through the video he has just digitalized and hits a key command which processes the image through a masking filter. Pixilation blurs the contours of his face, leaving only the intense eyes clear. He watches it to check that the effect is complete.

Seven smirked as she knew she was right, he was just on the same deal as everyone else. Power hungry, living and hiding under his expensive apartment. He seemingly is a part of the richer parts of the City. Seven slowly backs out the door and stops as she sees something. On a table just inside the room, is a statue, an Egypt-deco affair of gold and onyx depicting a creature half-female, half cat. It's illuminated from above a single pin point of light. Seven stares at it utterly transfixed, she snags it and backs out of the room. As she stuffs the statue on her bag and heads back out.

Then a security guard, Ruben, found the rope. He flicks his Maglite up to the open skylight and his eyes go wide. He un-holsters his 9mm, scanning and listening around him. He crosses to the alarm panel near the door and punches in the silent alarm code. As Seven approaches, the guard is scanning the shadows his gun sweeping the room as he moves forward and Seven is moving down the hall toward him on a collision course from the other side. She senses something on a level that no ordinary man or woman could feel, a sound, a vibration, the guard's body heat perhaps. As he approaches the corner and pops around the wall corridor, it was empty.

Seven slips through the door quietly but suddenly stops, lit only by a night light, a woman lying on bed with a young girl about 7 years of age, having just tucked her into bed. The woman Janna Reid and her younger sister Juliette. Janna looks up locking eyes with Seven as she screams in fear "In here! Help, in here!"

Jaebeom hears the cries and shoves aside a pile of papers and grabs a pump shotgun as he chambers around. Ruben breaks into a run heading for Janna and Juliette's room, as Janna grabs a lamp and hurls it with all her strength at Seven.

Seven's body reacts, the lamp tumbles end over end, in slow motion, she moves with amazing speed seemingly blurring the world. The guard flings the door open, sweeping his gun towards Seven.

As she sees everything in slow motion, except for Seven who is moving in a rather much faster pace; she easily ducks the lamp, which is just shattered against the wall as the guard takes aim with a two handed grip. The room goes dark as the light bulb explodes. Seven moves sideways before the guard can pull the trigger.

The room strobes with the shot but the bullet goes where Seven was, not where she is now which is halfway to the guard moving like a freight train. A second shot was heard, the bullet carves the air next to her. She reaches the guy and gets a hand on the gun, yanking it down and around in a sweeping roundhouse which twists it out of his hand. The guard Ruben was 6'3" and 250 pounds, mostly muscle. Seven follows through with a foot sweep take down and drops onto the guy hard with his arm twisted behind his back. She unloads the pistol sliding out the magazine and jacking out the chambered round. She throws the gun away and mag the other. The guard struggles to move but Seven drops onto him knee first again, knocking the wind out for a while. She looks up at the terrified woman and the crying little girl.

"Sorry" she whispers to the ladies as she bolts out the door, she sprints down the hall. Suddenly, Jaebeom appears in front of her with a shotgun leveled at her. It has a built in mini-xenon light and it is blinding her night vision, making it hard to see exactly where he is aiming at. She is at a momentary disadvantage. Though Seven knows with a sweep of her finger she can probably cause the poor man to be thrown by the wall since her abilities have improved vastly for over the years. She however was amused by the man's predicament and decides to play along.

"Put it down" says Jaebeom.

Seven does as what she's told and drops the bag on the floor. Jaebeom calls to Janna, eyes riveted on on the perpetrator.

"Janna, are you okay?" he asks.

Janna not going out of the room, creaks the door open and answers "We're alright Jaebeom."

Jaebeom scans the room to look for the beaten security guard. "Ruben" he shouts.

Seven smirks at Jaebeom, knowing that he may be looking for the poor man lying on the floor. "If he's the side of beef with the walkie-talkie, he's okay, but give the man a few minutes. He's a little bit knocked out for a while."

Jaebeom sees the statue peeking out of the open bag amazed and relieved. "You're a thief?"

"Girl's gotta make a living." As she responds with a Cheshire grin on her face. The frazzled and confused Jaebeom responds "Thank God. I was expecting someone else."

"First time I heard that. Guess you weren't expecting the pizza delivery guy." Seven responds sarcastically. She turns around as she heard a creak on a door as she's Janna hanging back in the bedroom attempting to pacify the crying child. "I'm sorry if I caught you at a bad time." She responds to both Jaebeom and Janna.

"It's alright were just a little tense right now." Jaebeom withdraws a bit but keeping a wary eye on the beautiful thief. He notices the status hanging on Seven's bag. "You have good taste. French, 1920's attributed to Chitarus." He says.

"Yeah. Whoever that is." As Seven responds nonchalantly.

Jaebeom tilts his head and quirks an eyebrow at the woman standing in front of him "So what? You liked it because it was shiny?"

Seven taking a note on the sarcasm floating out of the man's mouth. She seemingly wiser beyond years stares at the man blankly and responds in the most monotonous voice to contrast the man's sarcasm. "No, because it's the Egyptian Goddess Bast. The Goddess who comprehends all Goddesses, Eye of Ra, protector, avenger and destroyer. Giver of life, who lives forever. I can keep going you know..."

Jaebeom just looks at her, fascinated. Then, Ruben emerges from the bedroom, holding his ribs as he fumbles out his handcuffs and heads for Seven. Jaebeom panics "Stay back Ruben. The guards are on their way."

"Too late." Seven moves like lightning, grabbing Ruben's wrist as he reaches for her. Yanking him off balance and getting him in a sharply painful come-along hold with one hand bent up behind his back. Seven has maneuvered him between her and the shotgun, trumping Jaebeom's hold over her. She gave him a smile "Look, I'd love to discuss art but I gotta jet." She marches Ruben backwards into the living room controlling the big bodyguard with the thumb-hold and keeping him between her and Jaebeom.

"Easy, easy. My wrist is gonna snap" Ruben pleads in pain as he attempts to calm the girl. Seven responds to him "Yep. That could happen" then she turns to Jaebeom and grins "By the way....I love your show."

At that moment there is a thundering crash at the front door. Seven's head snaps around as a squad of private security cops wearing ballistic armor haul back and pound the door again with a steel battering ram. The doors were blasted open and a group of heavily armed rent-a-cops spill inside, their flashlights sweeping the apartment. As they raise their weapons towards Seven, she salutes the men. Moving like grease lightning as she bolts away from Ruben, who finds himself suddenly handcuffed to a heavy wrought-iron table. As the security squad moved, they submerged to try and stop her. She runs like a black blur. Jaebeom yells for them to stop with his words distended "Noooo! Don't!!! Waaaiiiittt!!!"

Seven crosses her arms over her face and hits the window at a full run. The glass explodes outwards in a diamond shower. She disappears into the night, like she was never there. The cops didn't even get a shot off. As Im Jaebeom runs to the window to check on the poor woman to see if she is still alive, he looks down. He catches a glimpse of her leaping from balcony to balcony, down the face of the building ninety feet below. She vanishes into the shadows at a street level. Jaebeom watching in fascinated awe as the curtains blow around him in the night wind.

#GOT7 #IGOT7 #AHGASE #IM JAEBEOM #JB #JB LEADER #JB X READER #IM JAEBEOM X READER #GOT7 FANFIC #GOT7 ACTION ROMANCE #AERO

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