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has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong · 1 year

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Hey! I love your work, I always look forward to seeing your next post.If your not to busy could you do an enemies to lovers for the Cu Quadrant. Please and Thank you!

Hello, thank you for the nice compliments. I really appreciate your support of my headcanons :) It has meant a lot to me!

Usually my headcanon requests are closed, I'll give this one a go. because it's a cu one This is also a really interesting one, I've not seen this concept requested for Cu Chulainn very often, so this is a great challenge!! I may be a bit rusty, but I hope you'll like it.

Notes: SFW, some romance, insert character's gender is not mentioned/ gender neutral x canon

Fate Series Cu Chulainn (Proto, Lancer, Caster, Alter)- Enemies to Lovers Headcanons

Proto Cu

-Whether it be through a clash of ideals; being on opposing sides- or possibly from even invoking his pent-up anger- as Proto has a pretty short temper, it's not that hard to rile him up.

-However, although he is easily angered- to become his enemy may be more difficult than expected. He is more likely to view one as an enemy if the two of you bitterly clash over ideals he feels sensitive about; if you get in the way of those he wishes to protect; or are simply placed as opponents on different parts of the battlefield. Overall, it could either be a personally motivated dislike towards you, something that threatens his identity as 'Cu Chulainn'- or just him adhering to his duty.

-Those who aim to manipulate him or act as if they're superior will get dragged to equal ground. He will show them exactly why they shouldn't mess with him.

-Depending on context- Proto won't hold back in his disregard and frustrations towards you as an enemy. That means showcasing openly hostile behavior, glaring- the whole lot! Ever the one to struggle with composing himself and suppressing his emotions; although he's mature enough to work alongside you if need be- he'll openly showcase his contempt, dislike seeping from every pore.

-Get prepared for endless bouts of competition, heated debates and a lot of grumbling/ harsh banter shared between you both! Proto Cu is both an extremely fiery AND icy enemy to have, so you'll be butting heads a LOT. Though he does give off the impression of being a rather cool and relaxed character, deep down he has a lot of emotions churning inside- that may be aching to spill out.

-For example, if this is a combative enemies-to-lovers relationship, the two of you may be crossing weapons and awful lot, as well as having him challenge you to duels (he's very defensive over his pride). And even if it's a less combat orientated situation, he's still going to give you a rather hard time, doing his utmost to intimidate you into leaving him alone. He may give you a wide berth at first, as well.

-On the other hand, if the two of you are simply enemies due to being on opposite sides, it is more likely that he'll be less hostile; but certainly a lot colder in temperament at first- or at least until he gets to know you a little better. It may be his way of making his stance clear towards you: he is not one to be underestimated. Look down on Proto, and he'll rip you apart.

-That doesn't mean he'll be opposed to a bit of joking and humor, but if it's decreed that he must kill you, then Proto Cu will doggedly adhere to accomplishing such goals (that's why it's pretty scary to be his enemy sometimes, especially when he's willing to accomplish his tasks at any cost).

-In the case that you're both enemies that are made to work together, or grow to learn more about one another off the battlefield; though Proto will maintain a harsh and grumpy exterior at first (he'll likely complain a lot at first despite begrudgingly helping out anyway), he's a very open-minded lad. This means that the slightest thing that the two of you grow to enjoy talking about or doing together will be enough of a catalyst for him to gradually warm up towards you.

-If you're technically no longer an 'enemy', then there's a high chance that he'll come around eventually. He's not opposed to forgiveness.

-Over time, what starts off as a hostile relationship gradually ebbs into a rivalry, and erupts into friendly banter and many shared moments together, both of you growing closer by the day. By this time, Proto will likely start cracking jokes and maybe even lapsing into annoying pranks, as well as getting a bit more touchy-feely with you; cheerfully aiming to get a little on your nerves- at the same time as gradually letting you into his world.

-It's a natural development, and depending on what sides of you he gets to see; Proto Cu may quickly latch on, becoming rather attached now that he knows that he can genuinely rely on you. Though there's still a lot of back-and-forth banter, and some harsh jabs; he's now genuinely happy to be around you!

-Things may start to take a turn for the strange once his affections start to develop. Despite still operating as rivals, he becomes louder, bawdier and even more of a show-off than ever before; almost as if he's yearning for your attention. Red eyes sparkling whenever you respond in kind, the relationship begins to take an interesting new turn... (also just when did your volleys of banter become so tempting, so alluring?! Proto can't quite handle the heat anymore.)

-As for romance, seeing as you were former enemies; he may be a bit prideful in regards to letting his feelings known, preferring if you were to yield your heart to him first (it'd fill his heart with joy). But as it's Proto, he's not going to be able to hide them that well, as he's not quite as talented at concealing his deeper emotions as the other Cu are.

-It's likely that the romantic development may occur at the most unlikely of times and in a very surreal way, but when it does; it's a moment full of unrestrained passion.

-As lovers, it's bound to be a fun time; as the two of you can keep one another on your toes. There's still a lot of competition and some clashes of pride, but now love and affection rings true within every gesture and touch (also he's much more easily flustered).

-Over time, the atmosphere evens into one of a deep mutual affection. He's so glad that such a strong bond of trust has formed between you both, and hopes that things can stay this way... he'd be heartbroken if you were to return to being foes again.

Lancer Cu

-Lancer's famous quote is 'yesterday's enemy is today's drinking buddy!' This likely means that his views on whether a person is his enemy or not are rather unpredictable, and can change by the day. Just like Proto, it's not that hard to get under his skin, but as he's rather laid back (but also relentless) it would likely be a struggle to become his enemy long-term.

-Similar to Proto, it's more likely that he'll either personally dislike someone (they may insult his pride, or they may clash over ideals that are dear to him, or he may even just dislike their vibes); or simply see them as an enemy because they are in the way of him accomplishing his goals, or are threatening those who he cares for. In that way, I believe that him and Proto are more or less the same in this sense.

-Lancer also seems to dislike those who talk circles around him, as well as those who play him for a fool. Things will go sour at an incredibly fast rate if anybody tries to pull one over Lancer: he'll not only avoid them, but if they really insult his pride, Lancer will overpower them enough to force them to respect him. He'll claw any sense of superiority away; but will still work alongside them if he has to.

-Lancer definitely seems to enjoy bantering and playing around with his enemies before finishing them off- however once they unleash his temper, there's no holding back. He will absolutely eviscerate them, rendering them to dust. His approach to enemies can range from being rather playful and laid-back, to being downright terrifying and murderous at times.

-Depending on as to what made you enemies in the first place, he may range from regarding you rather neutrally, to even extremely coldly. However, if you managed to win his respect upon the battlefield, or in terms of your competing wits etc. then he will definitely acknowledge you as a worthy opponent. But similarly to Proto, he will bite back, and regard you rather harshly at times, showcasing just how intimidating he can be.

-However, if the situation changes, and the two of you are made to work as a team; then he'll help out at any cost. And if it's an entertaining time or he finds a bit of common ground, then he likely won't take that long to warm up to you. All Cu are rather accepting individuals, and that acceptance does extend to even his enemies.

-But that doesn't mean he'll hold back though. Lancer will likely bruise you with some sharp comments and extremely caustic wit- shooting right to the heart of how exactly he feels and regards you as a person. Lancer is not one to pull his punches against a rival!!

-Even when playfully ribbing and bantering with you as a former enemy, he will still showcase in his demeanor that he's not one to mess with; emphasizing just how powerful he is. Even if you're allies now, he will cut you down if you betray him.

-Although if said rival was to invite him for a drink or a good meal... then who would he be to decline?! Despite any ill will he may hold against them, Cu will let all bygones be bygones; celebrating passionately by the side of even his most disliked foes if the occasion calls for it.

-Even better if you're up for some training or a good spar, nothing quite beats venting out his frustrations in a battle. It won't be long before he develops a sense of respect towards them. As for trust, well... that may be a much greater challenge to develop.

-He will ABSOLUTELY get a kick out of making jabs and jeering at his 'enemy-turned-ally', making fun out of them and exchanging light quips in the hopes of annoying them. Even better if you entertain him when he does, Lancer wholly enjoying the reactions he can inspire from you.

-As the two of you begin to hang out in earnest, running into one another and even enjoying fun activities by one another's side; Lancer's perspective begins to shift (rather quickly). Though you get under his skin at times, and you clash a lot- he genuinely enjoys it.

-He gets a kick out of being able to both volley a bit of hostility and friendly support with you at the same time; and before the two of you even realise it, you've become staple part of one another's lives.

-Could this be a rivalry, or something more?? Who knows, Lancer likes to just enjoy things as is. If it's due time for flirting, then so be it. To him there may be nothing wrong with engaging in a bit of passionate romance with a former enemy, especially if it feels good; and the feeling is mutual!

-The progression from enemies to lovers is bound to flow rather naturally. If it happens, he won't be opposed to it at all. Besides now this levels the playing field even more- now he can challenge you in the field of love as well!!

-Even if his lover was formerly his enemy, Lancer will still treasure them dearly, wishing to have an overall good time, overjoyed to finally hold them close. Hopefully the two of you will never become enemies again- he's not sure how well his heart would handle it, no matter how nonchalantly he acts on the surface.

-But for now, he'll cherish every moment as lovers to the utmost (and thanks to your rivalry, it means there's even more room for adventure and fun, which he's grateful for).

Caster Cu

-In terms of motivations for becoming enemies, I feel as if Caster Cu would be overall very similar to Proto and Lancer. Personal motivations, duty, clashes over ideals, disliking one another's vibes, simply being on opposite ends of the battlefield; or being a threat to his loved ones- would all be possible means behind becoming his enemy.

-But I also feel as if he has a very strong energy of 'NOTHING PERSONAL, KID'. As in, if the two of you are enemies, then he may be rather nonplussed about it, especially if he deems the situation as 'not that deep'. Whether it ends in him fighting you to the death or avoiding you, then he'll do whatever he deems is best for the situation.

-Even the way he regards his foes may vary wildly, from those who he views as just happening to face the bad luck of being his enemy, to some that he will direct his utmost wrath towards. I can imagine him showcasing some frustration or reacting negatively to someone who annoys him, but I feel like Caster is generally even less hostile than Proto and Lancer. However, that doesn't mean he won't hesitate to destroy them if it aligns with his duty, or if he deems it correct to do so.

-They would really have to anger him or hurt those who he cares deeply for in order for Caster to become completely murderous and full of rage towards them; and once he reaches that stage, he'll be a horrifying foe to compete against, willing to dive to any lengths to destroy his enemies.

-So with that in mind, Caster is likely to be a pretty chill enemy to have. He won't hesitate to knock a foe with his staff and runes if need be, but if you're working as a team; then he'll go with it- whilst grumbling all the way. He is the wise one, and therefore as a result, he will try to be the bigger person (but if you're picking a fight, then hell, he'll absolutely oblige!!!)

-However, it must be noted that this is the same Caster who once hosted an illegal gambling ring in the Kara no Kyoukai event. He's definitely got just as much of a dangerous side as Proto and Lancer, but what makes Caster an even more terrifying enemy is that he's extremely good at concealing his deeper emotions at times. This means that if need be, he could totally manipulate the hell out of an enemy, trapping them within his web (but as to whether he would or not is context dependent).

-In conclusion, Caster as an enemy is a mystery to me as well, as his approach can vary wildly; and he also can change his attitude towards an enemy pretty quickly as well. As soon as you're his ally, he too will work alongside you- despite any reservations he may hide inside.

-Caster can be very direct with his feelings as well though, so he may be similar to Proto and Lancer in which he may avoid you at first, openly grumble and complain to you about how he dislikes you; laugh at you and tease you in a pretty annoying manner, as well as enjoying being a bit of a pain towards you. He'll still help you as an ally- though that doesn't mean you'll be safe from Caster's jabs, as this guy knows how to smack people in the face with some painfully direct honesty!!

-As time progresses, the teasing rapidly picks up in pace, Caster indulging heavily in having a bit of fun! It's nice, for the two of you to have such a chill time as enemies. Always up for a good time, he invites you out sometimes. There's never a dull moment between you both, even occasionally giving one another a pat on the back for support.

-In addition to that, mutual support goes a long way for Caster. Just knowing that you're there to help out in a pinch-despite serving as former enemies- is more than enough motivation for him to give his all to helping you as well. With every assist comes a fist bump, with every save comes a hearty meal and some good company. It's becoming rather comforting for him to be around you, happy to just kick back; test some new moves- and have an overall exciting time by your side.

-Bygones are definitely bygones by this point. He doesn't mind the past of your relationship at all. What matters more is how the two of you relate to one another right now!!

-Now as for romance, Caster's got a few too many secrets locked within that heart of his, so I'd assume that any romantic developments will be more likely to be of the casual kind at first. Banter evolves into flirting as he teasingly asks if you'd wanna get a bit more... intimate for the night(?!); displaying a clear attraction towards you, yet also giving no clue as to how deeply his feelings may lie.

-Depending on how you answer, things may be 'played by ear' at first. Abandoned cigarettes, wandering hands beneath a waning moon, drifting forest beds that disappear beneath a misty breeze...it'll likely start off as a very spontaneous and exhilarating time.

-As lovers, Caster may remain a mystery at first; but that doesn't mean he won't unravel along the way....

-Honestly, Caster Cu romance headcanons stump me every time. I do think he'd be similar to Lancer and Proto overall, just with more secrets and mystery this time around.

Cu Alter

-In terms of the other Cu Chulainn, they tend to wrangle between balancing their sense of duty with their many emotions; sometimes even struggling to express what's going on within. However, as Cu Alter claims to be lacking in emotion, he serves as a complete juxtaposition to the others, in the way in which he's managed to somehow place duty and instinct above all else.

-In this case, it is probable that Cu Alter would simply destroy an enemy if need be. That's his duty as a tool, after all. To remove all threats, gouging into them with his spear. At first, he views you no differently; entirely committed to his job. Personal thoughts be damned, only actions reign supreme with him.

-However, in the case that the enemy is a good fighter or keeps him on his toes- giving him full permission to unshackle his restraints- then Cu Alter may subconsciously enjoy things a little. Not that he'd admit it aloud, though.

-If he has an enemy that he isn't allowed to kill (i.e. a teammate) or is around an enemy he dislikes for reasons that don't place them as being in the way of his job, then Alter will likely just avoid them as much as he possibly can, and use intimidation as a means to scare them away if they push his boundaries. And if he can't scare them off, well... he'll begrudgingly suffer through their presence if need be.

-Cu Alter will absolutely threaten this enemy at first, pointing his spear directly at them; trying to overpower them with his terrifying aura and presence. If you're not aware of who he's meant to playing the role of by now, then he'll make it abundantly clear how you should see him, especially seeing as he has yet to view you as an ally himself.

-Fear him, despise him. He's your enemy, after all. He doesn't want your mercy, but a rematch? He'll be down for that!!

-He is pretty hostile in general, threatening those who dare to tread close; and openly barking orders and insults, so an enemy of his will be subjected to very similar treatment- only likely to an even worse extent, as he will dislike their company at first.

-It will take quite a while for the relationship to improve. Cu Alter is not as likely as the other Cu to openly showcase his growing affections towards a former enemy.

-However, if Cu Alter grumbles some advice that sounds like sharp insults, that is a very good sign that he may actually like you enough to care about your health. And if his tail starts wagging whenever you're nearby... that's a brilliant sign that he may be secretly coming around to not just tolerating- but genuinely appreciating- your presence!

-The change from being enemies to allies will likely be so subtle that it can be easily missed. Cu Alter doesn't seem quite as friendly nor as open as the others, and won't forgive so quickly; but on the other hand, seeing as he views himself as a beast of instinct- how he regards someone as an enemy may be slightly different to expected.

-This may manifest in him also joining you for events sometimes, or in letting down his mighty walls ever-so-slightly. You may start to see him more often, as he may make less of a concentrated effort to avoid you, and will likely start sharing a few opinions on things (rarely). At some point, he may let his previous grudges go (or maybe not).

-And if you're a lover of combat, then holy moly; he'll be absolutely bouncing off the walls for some simulator training or sparring together (not that he'll openly state that though). In terms of FGO, I feel like Cu Alter may also be more willing to join the former enemy on missions once he grows to care for them, although he's the type to join even his worst enemy on the battlefield if need be.

-As for romantic development, it may be very subtle. It could possibly show in him not minding you being by his side, spiky tail wagging with earnest. Protecting you whenever you're in danger. Listening to you- even when he complains and grumbles at you. If he even goes as far as to openly declare his intent to serve you with his all... then his feelings will likely run very deeply.

-In terms of romance, Cu Alter is very likely to be more action-orientated, as his feelings often come out as a mangled lump; unable to make them clear. One thing is certain though- now that you're no longer foes, he feels somewhat... comfortable around you, almost in awe of how far things have progressed.

#fgo #cu chulainn #cu chulainn prototype #caster cu chulainn #cu alter #lancer cu chulainn #gilgablog #gilgawriting #i get so nervous writing about cu lol. this character... i feel a lot of emotions when writing about him #cu . his emotions. he has so many of them. what an onion he is

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frontmansbitch · 3 years

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Do u write smut cause if you do i have an request can you please write this so yk when the frontman in ep 1 hes chilling and just drinking whiskey so imagine if the reader is riding his cock while he degrades reader

Red Light, Green Light (Front Man x Reader)

♡ Synopsis || Reader got a special invite to watch the ‘Red Light, Green Light’ game with the Front Man alone, until things take a more alluring turn..

♡ Content warnings || Superior + subordinate relationship (consensual), bulging, kissing, grinding, riding, over-stimulation, dom + sub, some degrading and humiliation, slight mentions of death and violence

♡ Author’s note || ajdkajjweofj sorry for the late answer, I am really bad at writing and idk how this stuff works. The same applies to all my other requests, but please keep them coming ;( I was intending this to be some hardcore porn, but it turned out a bit too soft and fluffy oops. Hope I didn’t write him too OOC. Regardless of my incapability to write, I still wish to fulfil and meet your expectations, so hope you enjoy!

+ The Reader does not have a specified gender or sex in this! They can be whatever you want them to be. And the position of the Reader in relation to the Front Man is not specified either, he is just a superior to them. They can be whatever you want them to be, a pink soldier, a normal person, you name it!

The difference on this floor was noticeable. No one else was here, which makes sense as this was the leader’s floor. The Front Man specifically asked only you to be here to watch the first game with him. It was a strange request, but you didn’t have a say in this. After navigating your way around the hallway, you find the room. The TV was turned on and he was already waiting for you inside, occupying the only chair in sight.

“You’re late,” he called out. “The game is about to begin. Take a seat.” You use this opportunity to look around. It was quite a sophisticated room, you expected no less. You watch him pour whiskey into the two empty glasses beside him. It was then when you realised you could see the back of his head rather than his hoodie. Does he have his mask off? Is he trusting you to see his face?

Without making eye contact, resisting the temptation to look at his face, you take a seat on the ground. “You can take your mask off, nobody else is expected to be here,” he said.

“Thank you, sir.” Guess your loyalty paid out. Even though hiding your identity here was reasonable, it was hard breathing in this thing. Taking your mask off, you try to sit in a comfortable position without destroying your surroundings. There wasn’t any other chair in this room, and you wouldn’t want to ruin his furniture anyway. The game had begun and one player already got eliminated. The death was quick but brutal, and frankly quite depressing, but you knew what you signed up for. You couldn’t let the games affect you personally.

“Come closer,” the Front Man suddenly said. “You cannot see anything from down there.” Listening to his orders, you walk closer to him, until you can almost see his face.

“Where would you like me to sit, sir?”

“Here,” he responds. You weren’t quite sure what he meant until you realised the empty space in between his thighs. No, he couldn’t mean that, get your head out of the gutter.

“Is there a problem?” he asked. His eyes locked right into yours, and for the first time, you saw his face. He was gorgeous. He was way more than anything you imagined. Without making him wait longer, you take a deep breath and rest in between his legs. So… comfortable. The screaming and gunshots on the TV were getting louder, but you could barely pay attention to what was going on. The Front Man turned on some slow jazz music as the deaths intensified. Fly me to the moon... a classic. You could feel the Front Man’s glaze on you, observing you instead of the TV. You could barely keep yourself tamed with all this, but you knew you had to control yourself in order to not humiliate yourself. It was almost as if he was trying to see you get all riled up. Wait… Fuck.

You felt something poke below your waist. Oh god… Now you were getting restless, this is just what he wanted. Taking a bigger breath, you try to hold yourself together, but was it the right thing to do? Was he testing you, or implying something? What is he even testing? The thoughts scattered in your brain stopped for a brief moment as you felt his arm wrap around your body, pulling you closer.

You turn to look at his face in a way as if you were asking for permission. He grabs your face and pulls you into a kiss. He holds you by your waist and interlocks your fingers in his own as you spread your legs over his thighs, not breaking his face from yours. Heat built up in your face, the passion spreading down from his mouth down into your body, spiking straight into your heart. Your body began to grow impatient and started grinding on this crotch at a rhythmic speed. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore...

His hand slipped under your top and grabbed your chest, trying to tear off everything. “Needy bitch,” he said after huffing into your face. He started taking off his own cloak as you took off your top. Gunshots played in the background periodically, you couldn’t give a shit about those anymore. Sweat built up on your forehead. You couldn’t wait any longer. You grab down onto his dark pants, but he quickly grabs your wrist.

“Red light,” he suddenly said. Oh shit, you forgot about your obedience, but is he really doing this right now? “Show me how useful you are, then you can deserve it.”

“Yes sir,” you reply.

“Green light,” he says. You continue to drag your body on his groin, making sure he felt every bit of it. He looked at you attentively, puffing from the tension. He takes everything off below your midriff, leaving you completely empty naked from your waist down.

“Look at you down there in your fuckhole, all sticky and disgusting. You are going to ruin my clothes,” he says. He pulls down his pants slightly, exposing his massive boner already glazed with precum. He unexpectedly sticks a finger into your entrance, making you moan from the impact. “Red light.” He cuts you off. Now he was the one pumping you up, and you could do nothing but cuff your hands onto your mouth. He slowly positions you and slips in the tip of his dick into you.

You take a big gulp and look at the man holding you up in approval. He slides in his length a little more into you. “Aah-” you cry out, not being able to contain your anticipation.

“Filthy slut,” he muttered. “Already all riled up over nothing.” He pushes you down deeper, making you grab onto his shoulders. Your insides stretched out, making room for him. Slowly, he makes you sink down until you took on his entire length. Yor moans cried out of your throat, tears trying to push out of your eyes. After resting to adjust, you slowly look him in the eyes, allowing him to continue.

Your interiors quivered as he bounced you on him. Right as you could keep up with his pace, you wrap your arms around him, picking up the speed, forgetting to wait your turn.

“So impatient, I expected better from a whore like you,” he said disappointedly. Despite his cold remark, he wrapped his arms warmly around your waist. “Green light,” he finally says, letting you go at your own tempo. Your body raced on him through your burning passion, letting out everything you have kept inside for the past long weeks. The force of each impact shook you, but you pulled all your muscles together and forced yourself to recover with all your energy. You swayed your hips in motion, hearing him grunt at each collision. After a long moment of you recoiling yourself in and out of him, he moves his hands down on your thighs. “Red light,” he says, taking the action now.

He pounded inside of you, thrusting his hips deep inside. You were nothing more than a servant to him. He used you as his own cock sleeve, shoving himself in and out of you. There was nothing you could do to control yourself anymore. “I’m-” you try to warn, but it was too late. You fling your head back from the excitement and let yourself cry out, while still craving more. Your insides started to hurt as his throbbing shaft still kept moving. You wondered how he was still going, but you really did not want him to stop. He continued to penetrate into your passage as he picked up momentum. After a long period of him using your heavy body as a fleshlight, he pushes you down on him as he exclaims, stuffing you with his love. His cum filled you up, as you dropped your body weight down onto him.

Your body is collapsed onto him, resting on his lean body, panting on each other’s necks. He slightly pecks on your scruff, making small marks as he went. After catching his breath, he lifts you up and rests you onto the chair sprawled out.

“You can relax out here as long as you need,” he says as he slowly puts his clothes back on.

“What about you?” you asked at his sudden departure.

“I need to make sure everything is still in place,” he responds. Right, he was the Front Man here after all. He slowly walks over to you and brushes your head off your forehead.

“Promise you won’t take too long?” you say, for once breaking your obedience with curiosity. He kisses your brow.

“I won’t,” he whispers towards you. Putting his mask back on, he walks out of the room, closing the door. After gaining your consciousness back, you sit up and grab your glass of whiskey. You take a large sip as you use the remote to turn the music up, waiting for a long night.

#squid game x you #squidgame #squid game x reader #squid game #front man #hwang in ho #hwang inho #front man x reader #hwang inho x reader #frontman squidgame #frontman #front man smut #frontman x reader #squid game smut #hwang in ho x reader #the front man x reader #the front man #squid game front man #front man squid game

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spices-and-cherries · 3 years

Text

Put Your Hand in Mine

MERLE DIXON X READER

Two updates in one day? From little old me? Really? I know, I know, shocking. Just think of this as a little extra thank you for putting up with me and my horrid update schedule. Happy Valentine’s Day!

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Warnings: the word ‘whore’ is used, death is talked about, mentions of violence and drug abuse

Masterlist:

Merle doesn’t consider himself a gentle person. In fact, he doesn’t think the word ‘gentle’ has ever been associated with a Dixon before. Nothing about his life was remotely gentle, especially now that the dead are roaming, but there was something about you that made him want to try.

There was a movie that he saw once - he can’t remember what because he was drunk - where a couple dances and the woman looked like she was floating, and even in his drunken state he could tell that the man’s grip on her waist could only be described as soft. No Dixon had ever been described as soft either.

Waxing poetic is one of the many things he’s never done and one of many things he’ll never do. It’s a waste of his time. So when he says that your touch alone rights his wrongs, it’s not too far from the truth. He doesn’t know what love is. Never felt it and never wanted to. However, he can’t help but think that the feeling of content he gets from simply being with you is something that he’ll never get again.

Merle does consider himself a violent person. It’s in his blood and a way of life - he learned from the best, after all. He was told that the trigger-finger-itch he inherited from his father would calm down in the army after he let out some anger on the enemy. He thinks it’s safe to say he left itchier than ever, but now he doesn’t know what he would do if you were to deny him of your hand.

Hands seem to be a recurring theme in his life. His father’s calloused palm leaving an imprint on his face. The cigarette that was always between the thin fingers of his mother. Finding his little brother’s knuckles bloody after school. Watching the fists of his superiors in the army clench and unclench. The hands of his plug, the bartender, the whores at the street corners... the deadly, broken nails of the dead.

And now, when he feels as though he could actually lend a hand to someone else for once, he looks down and remembers that the only hand he has left can barely hold himself up.

It’s a painful existence, really. Time has not healed many wounds for him and things never got better and, upon retrospect, the good times never outweighed the bad. He used to think that with death, he’d at least get some semblance of peace, but as he looks out past the gates, it looks as though the after will be just as miserable as the before.

“The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Is it? I can’t tell.”

“Neither can I, but I think it’s supposed to be, right?” He watches as you open another can of beer. “I think with all the ugliness around us, we’ve forgotten what beautiful looks like. Maybe we should start teaching ourselves that again.”

“Were we ever taught in the first place?”

“No, I suppose not.” Your chuckle makes him smile. “I guess it’s high-time we realize we lost our humanity.”

“I don’t think I ever had mine.”

“You’ve never seen something beautiful before?”

“I dunno.” Merle sure as hell isn’t a gentle person or soft, and while he has read poetry, he certainly can’t write it, so he’s not sure what it is that he sees before him. “But I think I’m startin’ to remember.”

“You’re a strange man, Merle.”

“That I am.”

-----

The movie that Merle mentions near the beginning, in case anyone was curious, is actually The Bandwagon with Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse, where they dance through a park at night. Though, it could really be any Fred Astaire movie...

- Violet

#merle dixon x reader #Merle Dixon #x reader #Michael Rooker #fanfiction #fanfic #slight angst #happy valentine's day #oneshot #merle is just hopelessly pining

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riverisnotsafe · 3 years

Text

Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin #naoya zenin smut #naoya zenin x reader

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writethelifeyouwant · 2 years

Text

Riled Up | Part 3

Summary: Quarter Creek Ranch was just another kind of prison for Jensen, but at least this one came with some eye candy at the reins.

Rating: 18+ Pairing: present day!Jared (38) x young!Jensen (19) Warnings: Homophobia and gay slurs - This story is set in Texas in 1990. Sexual activity with someone of the same gender was illegal in Texas at this point in time. If depictions of homophobia and use of derogatory, anti-gay language will be triggering for you, please scroll on. Tags: ranch owner!Jared, ranch hand!Jensen, juvenile delinquent!Jensen, twink!Jensen, homophobic language, fist fighting, thirsty thoughts, male masturbation, age difference, taboo relationship, homophobic language, fist fighting, animal cruelty (not graphic), age difference, thirsty thoughts, male masturbation, kinda sorta voyeurism (listening to someone get off) WC: 4.3k

Created for: @spnfanficpond - Alpha Reader Programme w/ @katbratsupernaturalwhore as my amazing Alpha/Beta ❤️ who has been so wonderful to put up with my wanting to make this fic way longer than it was meant to be 😅

Mini Series Masterlist

Jensen tried to control his breathing as much as possible, not wanting the snake to notice that there was potential prey within very easy reach. Luckily – or unluckily, really – Cameron and Baxter were still running around in panic, also having spotted the snake, and were currently trying to hide behind the horse that José was fighting to restrain. The whole conglomeration of them were making so much noise that Jensen figured must have scared the diamondback, because it slithered straight past himself and Jared, making its way slowly out of the paddock and towards the open field of wild grass that bordered the nearest boundary of the ranch.

When the snake was far enough away that they couldn’t hear the telltale shaking of its rattle any longer, Jensen let out a heavy sigh of relief and let the tension melt out of his body, collapsing forward and resting his forehead on the nearest surface – which just so happened to be Jared’s naked collarbone. Jensen could smell the sweat and fear that he was positive came from his own body as well as Jared’s, but he was also keenly aware of some deep scent of wood and musk and man that was unfamiliar, and he assumed it was all Jared. Unconsciously, his head rolled to the side a little, and his nose pressed against the crook of Jared’s throat, and he breathed deeply.

“Ackles,” Jared’s voice was soft and calm, but it sounded like the crack of a whip to Jensen’s ears, breaking him out of the incredibly inappropriate reverie into which he had fallen.

“Thanks for the cover, but I’m gonna need you to get your ass up and in my office now,” Jared’s words sent a crash of ice through Jensen’s overheated veins as he scrambled off his superior.

He’d forgotten, temporarily, why he’d been out in the paddock in the first place, and why Jared had rushed out to the yard despite being only half dressed. They’d been fighting – him, Baxter and Cameron – and Jared had made it very clear that he wouldn’t tolerate any more screw ups from them. They’d all had their warning; even if it hadn’t been Jensen’s fucking fault this time either, why would Jared believe him? He couldn’t keep telling Jared the same sob story of the other guys calling him names and trying to provoke him, and he knew that wouldn’t be the way Cameron and Baxter would tell it. It would be the words of two against one, and then they’d all be shipped back north to that fucking prison. At least Cameron and Baxter would be getting locked back up too. Those pricks fucking deserved it, especially after what they’d been doing to Baby. Jensen still couldn’ believe they’d stooped so low.

“Boys!” Jared hollered, and Jensen turned to see Cameron and Baxter casually walking towards the other end of the paddock, as if they were hoping in the excitement of everything, Jared had forgotten they were there. “Get your asses up to the ranch house and in my office! Now!”

For a moment, Jensen thought they might try to make a run for it, but the pair exchanged a look between themselves, and then slowly turned, trudging through the dust back towards the house.

“C’mon son, you too,” Jared shot him a stern expression and held out an arm to Jensen, gesturing for him to lead the way and indicating that he would follow. With a heavy heart, Jensen spun on his heel, his boot carving a dent in the dust, and led the way towards his own execution.

The first thing Jared did when he followed Cameron, Baxter and Jensen into his office was go to his wardrobe and pull out the spare shirt hanging there, sternly telling himself not to look over at the chair next to it where his dirty, cum stained t-shirt was still lying. He quickly did up the snaps while he was facing away from the boys and cleared his throat, turning and sitting down behind his desk, and summoning as much authority as he could muster.

“Which one of you would like to tell me what happened?” he asked gravely, eyes darting between each young man in front of him, all of whom looked shifty as hell. Jensen looked down dejectedly, refusing to meet Jared’s eyes, in what he hoped was shame at being here in this position, again.

“Ackles threw the first punch, sir,” Baxter said after a moment.

Jared raised a brow, not wanting to believe that was true.

“I see,” he mused, still examining the boys closely. “And Ackles just decided out of the blue that he’d like a punch up? Two against one isn’t a very fair fight.”

“He went at Cam, would have beaten him into dust if I hadn’t stepped in too,” Baxter objected earnestly, looking to his companion, who nodded vehemently in support of this narrative.

“Is this true Ackles?” Jared asked seriously, and only now did Jensen look up at him, meeting his gaze with angry green eyes. “Did you start the fight with Cameron?” The boy sighed shakily, red blazing up on his sun-freckled cheeks.

“Technically yes,” he admitted, “but Cameron started it. Him and Baxter had Baby out of her stall and they were messin’ her around!” Jensen started to explain as quickly as he could, but Baxter and Cameron cut across his story in their own defence.

“We weren’t doing anything wrong!” Cameron insisted with plaintive eyes.

“We were just walking her around,” Baxter argued. “We was mucking out the stall next to her an’ she was nearly kicking the door down ‘cause she wanted out so bad. We wasn’t ridin’ her or nothin’.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Jensen turned on the other two, seething mad. “You weren’t even on stable duty today, you took her out because you were gonna set her loose. I heard you joking about it at dinner last week. And I saw you kicking at her hooves an’ her legs tryin’ to get her to take off! I had to stop ‘em, sir,” he looked back at Jared imploringly. “They were hurtin’ her, I had to stop ‘em.”

“We wasn’t doin’ none of that,” Baxter growled, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and Jared was half afraid he might start throwing punches again right here in the office.

“He’s just making that up to get us kicked out!” Cameron complained. “He’s already got one warning for fighting. And he’s one of the only violent offenders we got in our group, he can’t help himself.”

“Don’t talk about what you don’t know shit about,” Jensen growled, stepping into Cameron’s space and staring him down. Baxter made a move as if he were going to dive between them and Jared decided he’d heard enough.

“Alright!” he shouted, shoving back from his desk and effectively shocking the boys into calmer temperaments again.

“All three of you have had your one warning already, so doesn’t really matter who says what, I should have you all out on your asses and shipping back up to Gainesville first thing tomorrow morning!” There was a stony silence between all the occupants of the room, and Jared swallowed heavily.

“Baxter, Cameron; upstairs and pack your bags,” he said solemnly, nodding his head towards the door. “Clearly you can’t be trusted not to get into trouble in each other’s company, so you’ll stay in separate singles tonight, is that understood?”

“What about him?!” Cameron demanded angrily, pointing at Jensen, who was resolutely staring at the floor.

“I’m not done with him yet.” Jared’s voice was deep, and croaky, like he had gravel caught in his throat, and he saw Jensen flinch in reaction to his words. “Go on now, get,” he pointed the duo towards the hall, and they morosely left to pack their things.

Jared reached for the phone on his desk and pressed the speed dial for José, telling him to supervise their packing and get them into their solitary rooms, then call the corrections facility and arrange for a trooper to come down first thing tomorrow.

“When they’re out of our room, I’ll go pack my things,” Jensen said in a hushed tone after Jared hung up and had sat back down behind the desk with a heavy sigh.

“Huh?” Jared looked up, not quite registering what Jensen had said, his own mind whirring a bit too fast and clouding his thoughts.

“To go back to Gainesville,” Jensen muttered. “I’m uh… would it be alright if I saw the horses one more time, before I left? Don’t know when they’ll let me back out, after this.”

Jared’s heart broke for the kid standing in front of him. He knew Jensen had been growing to really like it here, even if never would have thought the boy would admit it; and he knew he shouldn’t bend the rules for anyone, that everyone should be treated equally, given the same chances, but he just had a feeling that Jensen hadn’t truly been to blame for any of the shit he’s been involved in, maybe not even what he went to Juvie for in the first place. He had to be sure, though. He needed to hear Jensen’s side of it – of all of it.

“Not so fast,” Jared reached across the desk and grabbed Jensen’s wrist as he turned to leave the office. The boy looked up at him with startled eyes, and Jared saw goosebumps standing up on his arm, the sun-bleached hair sticking up like someone had shocked him with a cattle prod. “Take a seat son, and tell me one more time what happened today.”

Jensen raised a brow at Jared sceptically, but took a seat nonetheless. He had been positive that that was it, his ass was being handed to him and by this time tomorrow he’d be back under lock and key, waiting for the judge to schedule him a hearing date.

“I told you everything that happened,” Jensen said slowly, feeling uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny of Jared’s hazel eyes.

“Now, I think that right there was the first lie you’ve told me all day,” Jared fixed him with a small smirk, the first crack in his otherwise authoritarian exterior. “Jensen...” he started, but then paused again, considering his words very carefully.

The boy looked up abruptly at the sound of his first name being used, it wasn’t a form of address he’d come to be used to at the ranch, or any time in the past couple of years, actually. His name sounded gentle on Jared’s lips, also not something he was used to, considering the majority of his time at home had been spent with one or both of his parents shouting it at him instead.

“Jensen,” Jared started again, shifting awkwardly in his chair, clearing his throat. “You hear things, running the kind of facility I do, and most of them are straight up bullshit. I know how teenage boys operate, and I know the kind of pressures you’re all going through, being cooped up in such close quarters with a lot of – quite frankly – volatile personalities.” He exhaled lightly, and Jensen chanced a half smile in acknowledgement. “I hear what the guys say about Baxter and Cameron, and I got no issue if it’s true or if it’s not, doesn’t concern me.”

Jensen hardened at that, beginning to sense where Jared might be going with this little speech. He knew the whispers about his roommates too; he’d never spread them, never said anything to confirm or deny what he suspected was actually spot on truth.

“I also know what guys your age fall back on when they’re scared,” Jared continued, a look of empathy clear in the lines around his eyes. “They lash out, and they project their own insecurities onto whoever’s around them. And in this case, I think that’s been you for quite a long time, hasn’t it?”

Jensen’s lips sat in a thin, straight line as he tried not to react, but Jared was right on the money with that one, and Jensen suspected that Jared knew he was.

“It used to be me,” Jared admitted with a tight smile, clearly trying to force different words out of his mouth but not quite saying what he wanted to. “I used to be right where you are. They used to call me everything that they call you: faggot, fairy boy, butt buddy… and a hell of a lot worse,” he admitted, and Jensen swallowed nervously. “And I fought back, just like you did.” the older man took a deep breath, and Jensen’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Because I was terrified that if I didn’t fight back, they’d know that everything they were accusing me of was true.”

Jensen let out a deep, shaky breath as his heart skipped once, twice; stumbling back into a rhythm eventually as Jared let his statement sit between them in silence.

“I–” Jensen’s voice cracked embarrassingly when he tried to speak, but Jared didn’t react, just waited patiently for him to start again. “Do you think they did know? That it was true?” he finally asked, his voice still shaking nervously. “Or did they just say that shit because they knew it would make you fight back?”

“I don’t really know,” Jared admitted sadly. “Is that what happened again today, Jensen? The same thing that happened with Anderson?”

Jensen nodded weakly.

“They were messin’ with Baby,” he repeated. “That’s why I went over to ‘em in the first place. They were talkin’ at dinner last week about lettin’ all the horses out, driving ‘em crazy, make ‘em all skip out. I told them to shut it when I heard, told ‘em I’d beat the shit out of ‘em if they even went near the stables. So when I saw they had Baby out in the paddock, no harness no nothin’ I ran in there and–” Jensen broke off, taking a breath to steady himself, trying not to let his anger seep through to the surface, trying to sound neutral and unaffected, so Jared might, maybe give him another chance here.

“They started calling me horsefucker, ‘cause I like being around ‘em so much,” he scoffed, and Jared’s brows rose towards his shaggy, chestnut hair in surprise. “But then they uh, they said no, I wouldn’t fuck with Baby because she’s a girl. I’d be the one bending over for the stallions. Said I didn’t want to go back to Gainesville because I only had the guards to fuck me there, and I liked the horse cocks better,” he finished bitterly, his heart rate already jumping up in anger again.

“Jensen, none of the guards at Gainesville… They didn’t, did they?” Jared asked with obvious concern.

“Oh uh, not um, not ever with me,” Jensen admitted awkwardly. “There were rumours, I mean, about others, older guys from a while ago, y’know. But they uh, they never tried anything with me.”

Jared nodded in relief and took a deep breath. He looked like he’d swallowed something incredibly sour, and Jensen couldn’t blame him. Most of his own memories made him feel the way Jared looked right now.

“I don’t know why I keep doin’ it,” Jensen said quietly, almost more to himself, an inner lament that happened to make it past a crack in the wall he usually kept all these thoughts penned behind. “I mean, I know where it started,” he kept speaking, looking up at Jared, and he didn’t know why but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop talking. Maybe it was the fact that Jared had opened up to him first, that he knew, with an astonishing amount of confidence, that Jared would never rat him out for this.

“When I was fourteen, I started dating um, this guy,” Jensen flicked his eyes up to Jared’s face, but there wasn’t any visible reaction, no shock, no disgust, just a mild, curious patience behind kind and honest eyes. “Me and him were uh, the only ones at our school, I think, anyways. And we never told anybody but somehow, someone found out. And one day the whole school was talking about it, and this other guy, Travis, he started sayin’ a bunch of shit to us. Said he’d tell the principal, get us expelled, said he’d tell our folks. Said he’d…” Jensen felt his throat close around the words, but he forced them out. “Said he’d knife us, and it would be doing the world a favour.

“I never believed him, thought he was just talking a big game to look tough at school, you know. But then, he followed us out one night, at the movies, then the bowling alley, we couldn’t shake him. And I got fucking sick of it and did the dumbest fucking…” Jensen wiped the moisture that was gathering in his eyes away, refusing to let it fall. “I kissed him, right there in front of Travis. Hoped it would scare him off. I didn’t see he had a knife in his pocket.”

“Fuck,” Jared swore under his breath, looking as if he might be on the verge of tears himself.

“I panicked, obviously,” Jensen scoffed and Jared nodded in understanding, but didn’t interrupt. “Kicked his feet out from under him, he fell back and cracked his head on the side of the curb and just like that it was over. He was in a coma.

“My parents didn’t know I was… y’know,” Jensen gulped. “And when I told them my side of it, and they got me the lawyer, they said I had to plead guilty, because if I pleaded self-defence in open court I’d have to tell them why Travis attacked us. The knife went down the gutter, there was no proof he ever had one. They were more ashamed to have a son who is the way I am than a son who was convicted of aggravated assault and locked up in juvie,” he scoffed, the reality of his life still unbelievably absurd, even to his own ears.

“So, here I am,” Jensen shrugged, clearing his throat. “They didn’t want me back when I was paroled, so this place was the next best thing.”

“I am so sorry, Jensen,” Jared grimaced, leaning forward on his forearms. “You never deserved any of this.”

“God might see it differently,” Jensen attempted a joke to lighten the mood.

“Fuck God,” Jared rolled his eyes, and Jensen let out a bark of laughter before he could stop himself. “It’s okay, you can laugh,” Jared smiled at him kindly, and Jensen let himself smile just a little. “Thank you for telling me, I know how hard that must have been for you.”

“Thanks for not pulling a knife on me when you found out,” Jensen smirked, and Jared laughed this time, throwing his head back wildly, his eyes lighting up in joy.

“Hey, same to you,” Jared grinned, and Jensen had almost forgotten for a moment that Jared had made the same admission. The man that he had been lusting over for the past six weeks had told him that they were the same. All of a sudden Jensen felt his heart in his throat because all he could think about was how he’d been lying on top of Jared in the yard, the stunningly attractive man shirtless and sweaty beneath him, and how he had most definitely felt himself popping a semi before he’d gotten his thoughts under control.

Fuck, what if Jared felt it? It’s one thing having Jared know he’s into dudes, it’s a whole other thing for Jared to know he’s into him.

Jensen leapt to his feet without really knowing where he was going, but just knowing he couldn’t sit here with Jared for one moment longer or his heart might actually beat so hard it exploded.

“I, uh… should I still go pack my stuff?” Jensen asked awkwardly, realising that despite the reasoning behind all of his violent behaviour, he had still broken Jared’s rules.

“No, Jensen, I’m not sending you back to Gainesville,” Jared shook his head. “But you’ve gotta stop beating up the other guys, even if they fucking deserve it, okay? Just get yourself out of the situation, and if you want, you come and tell me, and I’ll take care of it. If you keep kicking the shit out of people, they’re gonna start asking why I haven’t shipped you off yet, you understand?”

“Yessir,” Jensen nodded immediately, relief flooding every vein in his body.

“Okay, get yourself upstairs. You’re gonna have dinner in your room and stay inside until Baxter and Cameron are gone tomorrow. If we make it look like you got house arrest for the fight today hopefully that will keep the guys off your back.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jensen nodded gratefully, edging towards the door, desperate to escape and be alone with the tirade of thoughts that are spinning through his mind right now, becoming more and more inappropriate by the second.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jared smiled softly, nodding towards the door, and Jensen recognised the dismissal, shooting out the door and down the hall before Jared had the chance to notice that his downstairs brain had taken a keen interest in the topic of Jared’s sexuality.

Jared could have let one of the other boys bring the tray of dinner up to Jensen in his room, he could have even asked one of his other staff to do it, but here he was bringing it up the stairs himself. He told himself that he was thinking of Jensen’s best interests here, that the boy had had a difficult and emotionally exhausting day, and wouldn’t want anyone butting into his business. There was certainly some truth in that, but Jared knew that on the whole, his reasons were entirely selfish. He wanted to see Jensen again. He wanted to be near him again.

Since Jensen had left his office that afternoon, Jared’s mind hadn’t been able to pull itself out of the goddamn gutter. Sure, he’d had his suspicions, but actually getting the confirmation that Jensen was gay had set the gears in his mind spinning, and absolutely nothing he had done managed to slow them down. It was like his brain had forgotten every other reason that he and Jensen could never be involved with each other – their age difference, the fact that Jensen was technically in his care, the fact that being gay was still fucking illegal – and had decided to focus on the one reason why it might be possible: Jensen was gay, just like him.

And if Jensen was gay, that could mean that maybe, if the universe was interested in cutting either of them a fucking break for once, he might have the same inappropriate feelings for Jared that Jared was having for him. Jared knew how unlikely that was, but it didn’t stop him wanting to be around Jensen, because apparently he’s a giant masochist.

All the other boys were still downstairs in the canteen, and the hallway upstairs was eerily quiet. Jared could hear the floorboards creaking under his boots as he pushed off the top step and rounded the corner. As he came up to Jensen’s door, he realised he had a small problem: he couldn’t knock or open the door while he was holding the tray of dinner. Momentarily flummoxed, Jared looked between the tray and the doorknob, wishing he’d put tables in the hallway or something. He’d have to look into that. As he came to the conclusion that he could just knock with the toe of his boot, an odd sound reached his ears.

There was a creak of wood, then a groan of metal, and then a grunt of a far more human variety. Jared paused, listening curiously, and there it was again – that low, breathy moan, long and drawn out; at the same time conveying both aggravation and relief. A dull thumping started up, rhythmic and soft, and the blood in Jared’s body separated: half to his face, turning his cheeks beet red, and the other half to his cock, which went instantly stiff the moment the realisation of what Jensen was doing in his room crashed over him.

Jared had no idea what to do. Did he knock and interrupt the boy? Did he leave the tray of dinner outside for Jensen to find? Did he leave and come back with the food later? He was impossibly frozen. He didn’t want to knock and interrupt Jensen, that would be wildly inappropriate, because the only reason Jared was even contemplating that course of action was because he wanted to see what Jensen looked like when he was getting off.

Would he answer the door without a shirt, trousers hastily done up, skin flushed with the colour of his arousal? Would he be embarrassed? Or would he be able to brush it off and hide what he had been doing? No, Jared couldn’t invade his privacy like that. Not to mention, these poor boys barely got any time to themselves, living with roommates like they had at Gainesville, and now here at the ranch. This was probably the first time Jensen had had an opportunity to take care of business in ages.

Just as Jared had almost decided on leaving and coming back later with the tray of food – if he left it now, Jensen would know that he’d been overheard, and that whoever brought it up hadn’t knocked because they knew what he was doing inside – the low knocking of the bed frame against the wall, and the occasional soft groans, were eclipsed by a new sound; a whining, desperate, breathless sound. A word, actually. A name.

“Jared.”

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theodora3022 · 3 years

Text

Once upon a (fever) Dream

Relationship: Scaramouche x Reader (Gender neutral)

Summary: Scaramouche is unwell with a fever, it's your responsiblity to take care of your superior. Little did you know, overhearing his fever sleep talk would turn your life upside down.

Author's notes: I'm trying to get back into the writing groove! Scaramouche has been on my mind a lot ever since the lore of the pale flame set was datamined. If you are interested in the theory I based my fic on, one of my dear mutuals made this informative post. This is pretty tame and more of a psychological analysis more than a fic tbh.

I will not take any criticism on the theory.

Warnings: SFW, Character study-ish, abundance of internal monologues, use of swear words, hints of speculation on Scaramouche's backstory/identity, power imbalance, possessive and obsessive behaviour, trust issues(??)

"Another day Feelin' like no one really knows me It's okay At least I'm used to being lonely"

-Jake Daniels "The Show"

Scaramouche is having trouble distinguishing the dream realm and the waking world. Tch, this always happens when he falls ill.

Dreams. Stupid, meaningless things he cannot control. Scaramouche is never a fan of them. Sleeping is just a way to recharge one's energy for the following day, so why is this petty factor even a possibility? Memories mixed with random shit. Fever dreams are even worse, because he cannot force himself to wake up, and they might even allow forbidden information to be exposed.

The Balladeer seldom falls ill. But when he does...he needs some subordinates to look after him. Not that he got any other option.

Unpleasant to work with? Talks way too much? Eh, not that he cares. Scaramouche does not see the need to present himself as likeable. Like is a temporary, fragile concept compared to fear.

There was a time in his long life, he thought he was loved...the love he received turned out to be nothing more than one of his past naive self’s delusions in the end. No, it is meaningless in being nostalgic over that.

Damn this Moronic fever, stirring his mind all messy...

Fear is a better alternative, more secure and firm.

"Sir, it's time for your medicine." You knock, hesitating when there is no granting of entry from his end.

This unfortunate task: taking care of the bedridden harbinger has fallen onto you as of late. Being the newest recruit in his sector, of course, your seniors would throw this troublesome work to a rookie like you.

The optimal approach is: Do what you are supposed to do as a subordinate, sprint through the doorway once you complete your tasks. Being in his room longer than needed will only result in harsh insults. That foul mouth does not seem to know any mercy.

"Sir?" You ask again, mentally preparing yourself for the possible scolding before turning the doorknob. Letting yourself in is not a wise idea, however, this is your obligation. Lord Balladeer would be even more upset if you had brought in the medicine at the right time.

"No...Please don't...I promise I'll be-" Is that, sleep talking? Oh archons, why?

Those facial expressions are not pleasant ones. A nightmare, great.

Is there a way to unhear things? You sure wish there is. Scaramouche's life before his service has always been a popular topic of break time gossip among the Fatui. Some say he is of noble birth from that arrogant attitude, some say he comes from a peasant family, there are even absurd speculation about him being a fisherman before. However, his subordinates know better than to gossip in his presence. No rumours were ever confirmed or denied.

Who knows what he would do if the Harbinger catches you "eavesdropping". The mutterings have quiet down now, but you still have paperwork to attend to after this(that he assigned you).

"How much of that did you hear?" Just when you are contemplating whether to poke the sleeping bear or not, that menacing violet gaze has already fixated at you. Did he sleep talk? Scaramouche is uncertain. Still, it is always better to be safe than to be sorry.

At least he’s awake now, no need to wake him anymore. You said to yourself quietly. “Not much, my lord. I will forget everything as soon as possible. Now, time for your medicine.”

That scent makes Scaramouche’s stomach churns. A pot of dark goo and a plate of sugared plums, just like yesterday and the day prior. Wait, wasn’t he-

“How do I know that you don’t go whisper to your friends?”

Efficiency and resilience. Those are the two essential qualities one must possess if one wishes to remain in Scaramouche’s service. He may be a difficult superior, but his sector gets a relatively decent chunk of field missions, therefore it is easier to move up the ranks for new recruits. Who knows when you would get a promotion if you just deal with financial transactions in banks under Pantalone.

Perhaps it is sight of the oh so mighty man in such a fragile state, you are feeling...braver than usual. “My lord, what do I have to gain from gossiping?” Do you focus on unscrewing the cap of the pot, sounding somewhat amused? That unnoticeable curl did not escape his eyes.

When was the last time a recruit dared to look him straight in the eye like this? Scaramouche has no recollection. That immense headache is not helping either. Whatever, what matters now is making sure you do not go slipping off what you heard to others.

After handing the utensils and the pot to your superior, you head outside, prepared to stand in the hallway until he finishes the pot.

“Did I give you permission to leave?”

Aren’t you curious about what he is hiding? Humans love to pry by nature, right? It’s not the first time he had to dispose of those who know too much after all.

“Do you need anything else, my lord?” Of course, he’s not gonna let you off the bat that easily. What were you thinking? Deep breathes, (y/n). It’s not like he is going to electrocute you in this state.

“I wish to keep this head on my shoulders.” In an organization like the Fatui, new recruits are seen as resources that can be disposed of if needed. No one would blink an eye if you were to die of “accidental” death.

“You say that, but your eyes tell a different story.” Since when does he care about what is going in the minds of his subordinates?

“Sir, you can deal with me once you are fully recovered. Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa needs you in top condition as soon as possible.”

Gulping down the thick porridge, the little man then lied down, trying to sleep the fever away. The sensation of the quilt moving almost made him jump, he thought you had left the room already? What do you think you are doing?

Did you pull the quilt up to his chin? It’s not like he needs that cloth, but...this notion.

He’s so adorable when he’s sleeping. You thought as you walked through the door.

Did you just… tuck him in?? That is what’s that called right? Arranging the covers for someone?

You really should know better than treating your superior like some infant. However, that is not a mocking gesture. Scaramouche supposes he’ll let this one slide.

As the door shuts behind you, you hummed a cheerful melody, trying to not think about what would happen once he’s back on his feet. Hopefully, he will let you live on if you try hard enough to prove your usefulness.

You are reckless. You have no idea what you got yourself into.

He just had the perfect way to make sure his secrets remained in safe hands.

Someone else would take care of your current position. What would that leave you? Hmm, a personal assistant would be fitting for someone as caring as you. Personal, somehow he likes the sound of that already. Scaramouche had loathed the idea of having someone tend to his daily life, complete independence is a goal he always strives to achieve. Now...that idea does not seem that horrible after all. Do you even know how to brew tea? You’ll have to learn if not, and quickly too.

His past must remain a secret until the situation calls for it, that much is certain. Unstable variables should be placed under constant surveillance, and Scaramouche can only rely on himself to guard something as important as this.

(A/N: Thank you for reading this character study fic!! Relogs and comments will be greatly appreciated!)

#genshin impact imagine #scaramouche genshin #genshin self ship #genshin self insert #scaramouche x y/n #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader

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luckhound · 3 years

Text

— heavy burdens.

pairing. kaeya/gender neutral reader

genre. angst

description. on an important anniversary, kaeya gets drunk off his ass, bonds with a fellow captain, and realizes some burdens can’t ever be set back down.

warnings. spoilers for kaeya and diluc’s character stories. mentions of alcohol and a character (kaeya) being under the influence.

note. four months later and i’ve finally finished this fic after writing it on and off for that whole time mskfjdks a big thank you to sierra, miya, and grace for reading over the previous drafts of this and giving me their honest thoughts, love you ladies <3

He hadn’t expected to get shitfaced when he had first stepped foot in the tavern. Honest.

His plan for the evening was as follows: Go to Angel’s Share, chat with patrons, share some laughs, learn some secrets, and see where the night goes. Only the information he gleaned would tell how it ended; with him stumbling back to his quarters for a night’s rest, or ruminating on how to dismantle schemes that enemies of Mondstadt were concocting in the shadows.

So, the usual. Nothing too noteworthy.

Then he happened to overhear a conversation on the way there.

The two civilians spoke in low, somber tones about how it has been exactly one year since Master Crepus’s death and his son Diluc’s subsequent departure from Mondstadt. How terrible, they mused as they shook their heads, that the new winery master hasn’t been heard from since. He must still be in mourning over his father.

Kaeya nearly stopped in the middle of the crowded street. Was today really the one-year anniversary of Master Crepus’s death? How had it managed to slip his mind? He’s been busy lately with a promising lead, true, but to think that he would forget...

Which, long story cut ruthlessly short, leads him to where he is now. Tuning out his tumultuous thoughts with the help of alcohol and secrets.

Upon entering the tavern to raucous cheers, he had flitted from table to table like the social butterfly he's purported to be. The usual suspects greeted him with varying levels of warmth, inviting him to sit and keep them company. Stable hands and bandits alike shared a drink with him, words spilling from their lips like the fine wine they supped on.

After some time, though, he grew tired of their monotonous days and banal gripes. So he retreated to the bar counter. As he nursed a Death After Noon, he kept an ear out, listening carefully even as he chatted with Charles between customers.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t heard anything juicy yet. So and so is complaining about his wife, while someone else is haranguing her boss, and another is celebrating their birthday. Dull and uninteresting.

Can you blame him for getting so deep in his cups? There’s nothing else to do on such a slow night.

“So this is where you decided to hide out. Colour me surprised.”

Kaeya notes the shadow falling over the counter moments before a familiar drawl reaches his ears. He tilts his head up, blinking furiously when his vision blurs. The drinks he's downed thus far—how many has it been? He lost count after five, how unlike him—have certainly reached his bloodstream.

You stand beside his stool, your lips thinned into an unimpressed line. Despite how inebriated he is, the relevant information he has on you flashes through his mind. A Knight of Favonius. Captain of the Intelligence Team. Once a company grade officer, then sergeant, lieutenant, before ascending to captain upon the retirement of your superior.

As admired as he is by most of Mondstadt, you’re among the minority who are far from his biggest fans. For good reason, he supposes. During your first meeting, he had congratulated you on your promotion, before going on to flippantly insult your old captain. You’ve hated him ever since.

Which is why he’s puzzled by you approaching him first—outside of headquarters, at that. Such a phenomenon is rare, like catching a crystalfly in your hands.

“Captain! Fancy seeing you here,” he greets, adopting a jovial tone. Then your words register in his addled mind. “‘Hide out’, you said? Whatever would I do that for?”

You prop a hand on your hip. “You didn’t make an appearance at the meeting today. Needless to say, the Dandelion Knight isn’t too impressed with you at the moment.” You appraise him, looking underwhelmed by what you see. Ouch. “Strange. You don’t seem terribly ill to me.”

Ah. That. Kaeya had wanted to investigate some curious rumours he’d heard around the city, so he made up a flimsy excuse to dodge the captain’s meeting held this morning. Grand Master Varka likely hadn’t batted an eye over it, but not Jean. She’ll have concerns.

He hums noncommittally. The thought of annoying his oldest ally never fails to bring a smirk to his lips, but he isn’t quite in the mood right now. “Is that so. You must be here to sternly tell me to clean up my act then.”

You scoff. “Surely you don’t need a second babysitter. No, I’m off-duty, so I’m here for the same reason everyone else is: to drink.”

“Hear, hear.” He lifts his tankard as if to toast to you, but the sudden momentum causes him to sway dangerously in his seat.

“Careful!” Eyes widening in alarm, you reach out to steady him. “Geez, Alberich. How many drinks have you had?”

The palm of your hand is warm where it sits on his shoulder; he can tell that even with his furs in the way. He almost leans into the touch but catches himself at the last second. How mortifying. He can just picture your horrified reaction to him drunkenly nuzzling up against you.

Almost falling off his seat in a crowded tavern, instinctively seeking out your slightest touch... He needs to get a hold of himself. Or find a way to halt the conversation here, so he can resume drinking by his lonesome.

“Not nearly enough,” he answers airily, leaning an elbow on the bar counter. You drop your hand to your side; he makes a point to not stare at it as you do. “Where’s your entourage? I’m surprised they aren't following dutifully behind you.”

“They’re my subordinates, not my entourage.” You shift awkwardly. “And they aren’t here. It may surprise you, but they have lives outside of the Intelligence Team. They can enjoy one evening without their captain breathing down their necks.”

He eyes you in amusement. “In that case, you should join me. I would welcome the company.” He finishes off his tankard, then motions to Charles for another drink. The bartender doesn’t even ask which one as he takes the pewter mug. He knows him well by now, after all.

Kaeya expects you to turn him down and find a seat elsewhere. Usually, such an invitation is enough to send you running for the hills. You lean a hip against the counter instead, as if settling in. “If I am not mistaken, you’re needed at headquarters tomorrow. I strongly advise you to call it a night, Captain.”

“Aww, are you worried about me, Captain?” He manages a grin at the scowl his reply elicits. “Don’t be. It won’t be the first time I stumble into work hungover. Certainly won’t be the last either.”

“How reassuring,” you say dryly.

“I aim to please.”

He perks up when Charles returns with a full tankard. The delectable taste of Death After Noon still sits on his tongue, warm and heady. He very much wants to experience it again. When he lifts the mug to his mouth, however, he misses the rim. He steadies the tankard before it empties itself onto his lap, but some of the wine drips down his chin, ruining his vest.

Thank goodness he isn’t drinking red wine. Every adult in Mondstadt knows red wine stains are notoriously difficult to clean. Still, what a waste of a perfectly good sip.

“Oh, for Barbatos’s sake.” That’s all the warning he gets before his drink is rudely snatched from his hand. He protests but can only watch helplessly as you bring it to your lips.

Then you proceed to down it.

His brows raise higher and higher the longer your throat bobs. He's never seen you drink with such gusto before. Shouldn’t you be gasping for breath by now? But no, you empty the tankard in a single go, then slam it on the counter (Charles makes a face, but wisely says nothing) and meet his gaze without flinching.

Wow, is all that his intoxicated mind can conjure up at the feat.

“There, all done. Now let’s go. I am walking you back.” Your voice is firm, brooking no argument. How captain-like of you. “Wouldn’t want Mondstadt’s illustrious Cavalry Captain to be found passed out in an alleyway tomorrow.”

On any other day, he’d be mildly irked by your stubbornness. But he did just spill his drink down his front like a newborn babe. No wonder you brought up his rank. In your eyes, his conduct must not befit that of a high-ranking knight. He doesn’t care what assumptions people form about him, never has, but tonight has been a bust anyway. Maybe it's best to call it quits.

Sighing theatrically, he rises to his feet. “All right, I know when I have been beaten. But don’t change your plans on my account. I can head to the barracks by myself just fine.”

“I’m sure you can,” you say, “but letting you walk alone this late in your state would grate at my conscience. So would you stop talking for once, and let me take you home?”

You get what you want. Your words render him silent.

Home, you called the barracks. He supposes you consider that place your home. But is it his, truly?

He thinks of Khaenri’ah, nothing but a distant, bloody memory. He thinks of his father, and how in their final moments together, the man had stared through him like he wasn’t there. He thinks of the Dawn Winery, where he had spent several years causing mayhem. He thinks of Master Crepus, never dad, and a brother who doesn’t exist anymore.

No, the barracks aren’t his home. Maybe he’s never had one to begin with.

When he comes to, Kaeya registers you leading him in the direction of the tavern door, your hand on his shoulder blade. This quickly catches the attention of the patrons. They call out their goodbyes, some raising their tankards and others chuckling good-naturedly.

“Look at that! Our Cavalry Cap’n had too much to drink, eh?”

“What, are you tapping out already, Captain Kaeya?”

“Has to be escorted out by a fellow knight, no less!”

You wave over your shoulder. “Just doing my patriotic duty, that's all.”

Kaeya gives his audience an exaggerated wink (as well as he can with his one uncovered eye) followed by a lazy hand salute. His grin remains fixed in place until the door swings shut. The wooden barrier barely muffles the sounds of conversation and merriment coming from within.

Had it been that loud while he was inside? He hadn’t noticed.

He isn’t able to dwell on it for long, because you nudge him in the direction of headquarters. “Come on. We have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let’s get to it.”

“Oh, very well. But only because you asked so nicely.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“I know. I was being sarcastic.”

You nudge him harder, and he snickers under his breath as he walks.

This time of night, the cobblestone streets seem devoid of life. With the exception of Patton, who’s practically asleep standing up, the two of you don’t run into anyone. It's a stark change from how the city usually is, bright and bustling with crowds.

It suits him just fine, though. The crisp night air is sobering him up somewhat, the fog that had settled over his mind thinning. All too soon, he recalls everything he was trying to suppress.

Master Crepus. Diluc. His callousness and cruelty in forgetting them both.

In hindsight, he should have taken his mug back from you instead of just gaping like a fool. Sobriety is such a drag.

“You’re quiet,” you comment. You’re staring at him intently, your expression eerily similar to Timaeus’s when he is observing an alchemical reaction. It’s as if he is a specimen that you are keen on studying under a microscope.

He wants to scowl, to snap at you. “My apologies,” he says instead, as innocent as can be. “Were you waiting for me to strike up a conversation? Hold on a moment, let me think of a good topic...”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. It’s just, usually it’s impossible to get you to stop talking. The times I have seen you...indisposed”—buzzed as a bee, you undoubtedly mean—“that doesn’t change. You talk more, if anything.”

Curiously, your voice softens, an odd cadence colouring it. One he has not heard from you before, not directed at him at least. “I guess I’m just wondering if something is weighing on your mind. Is that what prompted you to drink so much tonight?”

By now, the two of you have walked down the stairway to the Knights of Favonius’s bulletin board. Of course, Hertha isn’t there this late to assign requests and bounties. The pieces of parchment pinned to the board flutter in the breeze. He stares at the sketch of a Ruin Guard, willing his sluggish mind to craft a suitable answer.

After a beat, his eye slides over to you. An impish grin curls at the corners of his mouth. “My, I had no idea that you watched my every move so closely. I’m flattered by the attention.”

Predictably, you sputter. “What even—that is not—you know what, if you want to dodge the question so badly, fine. We can just walk the rest of the way in silence.”

“As you wish, Captain.”

Although his words were said to fluster you into changing the subject, as you had correctly deduced, Kaeya means them. You have noticed him far more than he realized. As Captain of the Intelligence Team, it’s your job to be observant and keep tabs on others. He knows that. Still, it’s disconcerting to learn that you’ve had a close eye on him in particular.

He operates from the shadows for a reason; he can’t have you jeopardizing that by shining a light on him. Five months into your new position, and already you have proven yourself to be dangerous.

As you wished for, silence reigns as the two of you turn into an alley and approach two flights of stairs, leading to the center of the city. Kaeya resists pressing a hand against the nearest wall for balance. He had walked down a stairway unaided just moments ago, despite how unsteady he felt. Surely ascending some steps would prove to be easier.

Rather than focus on his feet, he looks up ahead. From his position, he can just barely glimpse the blades of a windmill, ever-turning against the dark backdrop of the night sky. He keeps his gaze there as he climbs, his boots scraping against stone.

He clears the first flight of stairs with little issue. See? Nothing to it.

Halfway up the second, Kaeya stumbles.

His surroundings tilt, blurring as he fumbles for balance. It’s a futile effort. Thanks to how inebriated he is, his limbs are too heavy and uncoordinated. The stone below rushes up to meet him.

Before his face can greet it, however, you catch him.

Your side moulds against his, a hand clasping his hip while the other carefully grasps at his spiked pauldron. His gloved hand covers yours reflexively as his racing heartbeat settles. He feels you stiffen at the touch, but you don't pull away. Neither does he.

For a moment, not a word is spoken between you both. The alley is filled only with the soft sound of breathing.

Then you click your tongue. “So much for heading back by yourself. You can barely keep your feet under you.” Your voice lilts with humour.

He knows this song and dance. It has been ingrained in him after all these months. You snark at him, he snarks back. Rinse and repeat. Although this is the first time he has heard levity in your tone; the first time it has been aimed at him, that is. He almost hadn’t thought you capable of it.

He straightens with a chuckle. “First at the tavern, and now in an alley. I just keep falling for you tonight, don’t I?”

You blink owlishly. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Then a flustered expression crosses your features, before you compose yourself. “You are unbelievable.”

He grins. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You roll your eyes, even as the corners of your lips twitch. “You would.”

Kaeya expects you to move away, so the two of you can resume walking, but you don’t. “Not that I mind having your hands on me, but...will you be letting go any time soon?”

“That depends.” A challenging glint appears in your eye. “Can you handle walking on your own? Or do you need me to cradle you the rest of the way to headquarters, like some damsel?”

He guffaws, taken off-guard by the retort. A reply escapes his loosened tongue before he can think better of it, “Archons, that sounded just like him.”

“Like who?”

“My brother.”

In the past, despite being underage, he was sometimes able to charm bartenders at Angel’s Share—new hires unaware of how to deal with him as of yet—into serving him drinks. Diluc would find him eventually, a disapproving twist to his mouth, and put a stop to it.

Back then, Kaeya was a lightweight and had to be supported back to headquarters. Diluc would scowl and roll his eyes the entire way, but there was still a softness in his gaze. His hands were strong, but careful; Kaeya knew that his brother would not let him fall. He could even be persuaded to join in when Kaeya began to sing, their off-key voices disturbing the silence of the night.

Come morning, while Kaeya nursed the inevitable headache and Jean nagged him about violating the Knights of Favonius Handbook, Diluc would snort. “Serves you right,” he’d say, then hand him a draught for curing hangovers.

Now Kaeya must weather the pain alone.

You tilt your head to the side, your gaze fixed on his. “I had no idea that you have a brother,” you say softly.

Had, he nearly corrects. But he has told you too much already.

This is why he is so careful when drinking in the company of others. Alcohol is a double-edged sword; as delectable as it is, it also loosens inhibitions. It’s what he relies on when charming information out of allies and adversaries alike, none of them the wiser of what they have given up.

How the tables have turned.

“Well, now you do.” A trace of bitterness enters his tone.

You eye him, quiet, before pulling back. You motion forward with your chin. “Let’s keep moving. We’ll never make it to headquarters at this pace.”

Relieved by the subject change, he listens. He makes a conscious effort to place one foot in front of the other, gaze trained on the remaining steps below. You stay at his side, closer than you were before. He can feel your hand hovering at the small of his back, ready to catch him should he trip once more, but he ignores it.

It won’t happen again. He’ll make sure of it.

The alley opens up to a view of the market district. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have long to enjoy the reprieve. The two of you turn right, away from the railing overlooking the main square, to climb two more flights of stairs. A left, and more stairways await.

By the time the Knights of Favonius Headquarters looms above you, Kaeya’s legs ache from the walk. He is very much looking forward to retiring to his quarters.

The knights stationed outside stiffen at the sight of you and Kaeya, standing at attention. They perform a salute in perfect unison. Do they rehearse that before every shift? Surely they must.

The guard on the left, with the glasses and unfortunate haircut, chirps, “Good evening, Captains! I hope you are doing well.” He appears wide awake despite the late hour.

At least the one on the right looks appropriately haggard. “Welcome back,” he grunts.

While Kaeya brushes past them with a nod of acknowledgement, eager to head inside, you stop. “Good evening, Athos, Porthos. Your shift ends soon, I hope? It can’t be terribly interesting, standing watch outside headquarters so late.”

“It’s no trouble at all, Captain!” Athos, as you had referred to him, says. “Guard duty may not be glamorous, but it is still important.”

“Much as I agree with the lad, I can’t bring myself to be so damn cheerful about it,” Porthos sighs, his words tinged with self-deprecation. “Must be ‘cause of these old bones.”

“That’s not true, Sir Porthos. Your bones aren’t that old!” the younger knight argues, prompting the older to shake his head with a chuckle.

“Athos isn’t wrong,” you add. “You are far more sprightly than most knights I know.”

“If that’s true, then Mondstadt is in trouble.”

Smiling and shaking your head, you finally pass by them, climbing the short steps to return to Kaeya's side. He lifts a brow as he pulls on one of the large oak doors, holding it open for you.

It’s almost comical how quickly your smile disappears. Your eyes narrow as you enter inside. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” he says breezily, following after you. The door falls closed behind you both with a loud, echoing thud. “Just that I didn’t know you were so chummy with the guards.”

It is blindingly bright inside the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, as if it isn’t nearing midnight. The sconces on the walls are lit up, as is the chandelier hanging in the center of the main hall. The two of you make your way towards the—joy of all joys—staircase. The barracks for knights are located on the second floor, and on the floor above that, separate quarters for the captains.

“I am off-duty right now. It’s not unprofessional for me to speak informally with them.”

His eye widens. “Why, I never said it was unprofessional, Captain.”

You grind your teeth so hard he can practically hear the enamel wearing away. “You implied it.” No, he didn’t. Your distaste for him has you imagining mockery where there is none. As if Kaeya has any room to judge someone for acting unprofessional.

“I did? That’s news to me.” Privately, he marvels at how easily he can agitate you. Him, no one else—he has observed you long enough to know your prickliness is reserved for him alone. Maybe that’s why he annoys you further instead of clearing up the many miscommunications that tend to occur. Not that you’ll believe him, even if he’s being completely honest.

You huff. “How the Dandelion Knight manages to put up with you, I’ll never know,” you mutter.

“How rude, Captain! Jean doesn’t put up with me, she considers me indispensable.”

You cut a look at him. “Yes, I’m sure she thought the same when you failed to show up to today’s meeting.”

“Must you bring that up again? I shudder just thinking of the lecture she’ll have ready for me in the morning. Perhaps my mysterious ailment should plague me for a little while longer...”

“Prolonging the inevitable will do you no favours.” You pause briefly, then add, “Ah, I almost forgot to mention. After the meeting, I ran into Inspector Eroch. He was waiting outside and asked after you. He seemed irked when I informed him that you were absent today.”

If Kaeya was not so skilled at masking his reactions, he would’ve perked up at that. He might have even stopped in his tracks or whipped his head around to look at you. But he knows better than to give himself away so obviously. He leisurely climbs the steps, his features revealing only vague interest. “Oh? Somehow I doubt he was upset out of concern for my wellbeing.”

You glance over. “I wouldn’t know. He did not say anything when I asked why he wanted to see you, or if I could pass on a message. He just brushed me off and left.”

“Don’t be hurt by his shameful conduct, Captain. I for one enjoy your company immensely.”

You ignore his thoughtful statement. “I thought that he might have had a prior engagement with you, which you missed due to being terribly ill.”

He shrugs. “If we did, I don’t recall it.”

That earns him another look, longer than the one before. He doesn’t flinch away from it, his expression remaining serene. Privately, he wonders what you know. Are you merely intrigued by what Inspector Eroch might want with him? Or are you more aware than you’re letting on?

After all, Eroch is the one Kaeya has been secretly investigating for the past year.

Looks like the inspector has caught on. About time. No doubt he wants to figure out just how much Kaeya knows—which is not much, unfortunately. He knows that Eroch has more than just Mondstadt’s best interests in mind; a Fatui spy like him would have just the opposite. But he is unsure what the man is up to, or who he even is.

He does, however, have an inkling. Several, even.

Inspector Eroch had been insistent on covering up the details of Master Crepus’s death. For the good of Mondstadt, he claimed, not wanting the citizenry to lose faith in the Knights of Favonius. Grand Master Varka had ultimately sided with him. It resulted in Diluc resigning his position and leaving the city a year ago.

Kaeya had kept an eye on the inspector after that. He knew there was more to the situation than just preserving Mondstadt’s trust in the Knights, and it had everything to do with the dangerous and evil power Master Crepus had harnessed. It was only a matter of figuring out what. And once he has all of the information...

Well, he knows what Diluc would do, once upon a time. Blazing with righteous fury, he’d take his findings to Grand Master Varka, insisting on Eroch’s arrest and expulsion from the Knights of Favonius. He would see it as retribution for how poorly his father’s death had been handled.

But Kaeya suffers from no delusions. Maybe he looked into Eroch because of Master Crepus. Maybe he wanted some kind of revenge for what happened. Maybe he yearned to atone for his past inaction. None of that means he has any heroic intentions.

If it serves his interests better, he won’t expose the inspector immediately. He will hoard his knowledge instead, keeping his cards close to his chest until it’s the right time to play them.

That is how he has always operated. Master Crepus's death and Diluc's departure have not changed that. For a brief, nonsensical moment, he wishes they had. Then common sense returns to him. A foolhardy sense of justice is of no use to him. He’ll leave that to Diluc.

While he extricates himself from his wayward thoughts, you turn away to clear the last few steps. “If it is important, surely he will try to approach you again,” you say.

“I look forward to it with bated breath.”

You scoff, rightfully skeptical, but don’t respond. Clearly, you are content to leave it at that.

He wonders at how easily you let the subject drop. Had you suspected something, you would have pushed to learn more, wouldn’t you? Now is as opportune a time as any; it’s late, he’s tired and drunk, and the both of you are alone. Does that make you oblivious, or an idiot, or crafty?

Having made it to the third floor, the two of you make your way down the hallway. His quarters are before your own, three doors on the left. He stops in front of his door, reaching into one of many hidden coat pockets to produce his key.

He glances at you. You have yet to leave for own your room. “You don’t have to hover at my side, you know,” he says with a touch of amusement. “I may be tipsy, but I am no longer in any danger of being harassed by ruffians or passing out in the streets. Unless you're secretly harbouring nefarious intentions towards me, Captain.”

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” is your unruffled response.

Chuckling under his breath, he unlocks his door and lets it swing open wide. It’s dark inside, faint moonlight shining through the small window above his desk. Coupled with the sconces out in the hallway, however, there is enough light for him to stumble to his bedside without stubbing a single toe. He doesn’t bother to close the door on you; he has nothing to hide.

Kaeya knows what his quarters must look like to a stranger. They’re a mess, as if someone had searched them in a haste and not bothered to clean up afterward. The walls are bare, save for a map of Mondstadt that he’d hung up ages ago. Tomes of all sizes and loose leaves of parchment litter his oak desk, pushed up against a wall. A quill lies abandoned atop a half-finished note with ink drying on its nib. His closet door is cracked open, a discarded boot dissuading anyone from forcing it shut.

Yes, his quarters are a mess. But he knows exactly where everything is. Should someone actually attempt to search his things, he would know immediately. Not that they would find anything particularly damning. He isn’t foolish enough to leave important documents or sensitive information lying about—nothing he is unwilling to part with, anyway.

“Horrifying, but unsurprising,” he hears you mutter to yourself.

Kaeya doesn’t even consider slipping out of his ruined clothes or engaging you in further conversation. Now that he has made it back to his quarters, all he can think about is the sweet embrace of sleep. He sinks into his unmade bed, draping an arm over his face.

You continue to linger in the doorway. “You should change before you fall asleep.”

“Mhm.”

“You'll regret not doing so in the morning.”

“Uh-huh.” He still doesn’t move.

“Alberich. You stink of booze.”

“You sure know how to compliment a guy, Captain. I’m impressed.”

You sigh, long and loud. He waits to hear the door close behind you, only for you to walk up to his bedside. Your steps are slow, hesitant yet purposeful. He stiffens, immediately on-guard, but fights his instincts in order to remain still. What are you planning?

He feels you grip his boot. Metal jingles as you undo the buckle. Then you pry it off.

He lifts his arm to peer up at you. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You set his boot on the ground, then move on to the other one. “If you won’t change, you should at least take off your shoes. You’ll dirty your sheets otherwise.”

Oh, you make it so easy for him to twist everything you say into an innuendo. For once he resists the urge. “You forgot something,” he says instead. He wiggles his sock-clad foot at you. Just to see if you will do it.

You grimace, swatting his leg away. “Absolutely not. I don’t want to be anywhere near those.”

So you say. But you’re taking his boots off for him out of your own volition. There is no need for you to do any of this. It’s not your duty to stop him from drinking himself into a stupor, or walk him back to headquarters unharmed, or all but tuck him into bed. Yet here you are.

What is it that you want? There have been plenty of opportunities for you to try and take advantage of his drunken state, but you have sidestepped every one. Frustration brews in his sternum.

“Do you do this for everyone who you hate?” he finds himself asking, tone purposely lighthearted.

You pause in your ministrations to stare at him. “What? I don't hate you.” At his disbelieving look, you insist, “I don’t. You have always been a pain to deal with, sure, but I never once felt that way.”

He smiles, unconvinced. “Not even when I insulted your dear old captain?”

“Insulted my... That was months ago, when we first met.” Despite your bewilderment, you take a moment to contemplate his question. “I was upset with you, yes. But now that I’ve had this position for some time...maybe your assessment wasn’t off. When I was lieutenant, I didn’t always see eye-to-eye with my captain. They were too set in their ways and scorned most criticism. I respected them, and still do, but I shouldn’t be ignorant of their faults.”

Your gaze meets his once more. “In a way, what you said that day led me to realize that. You weren’t badmouthing my captain; you didn’t have a vendetta or want to get a rise out of me. At least, I don’t think you did. You must have legitimate issues with their leadership, as a captain yourself.”

He watches you shrewdly. Your tone was even, your expression clear. He cannot detect any deception from you. Of course, that means little. Still, perhaps you’re telling the truth. Perhaps you don’t hate him after all.

A headache, newly formed, pounds at his temple. If he were more sober, he would be better equipped to handle such a revelation. He’ll have to come to a proper conclusion later.

You fiddle with the buckle on his remaining boot. “And what about you?”

“Hmm? What about me?”

“You have ample reason to look down on me. Most of the knights know that you aren’t just Cavalry Captain and Quartermaster. Your role is more important than that. Surely you would make a better...” you trail off, your jaw working silently.

Kaeya knows how that sentence ends. Surely you would make a better Captain of the Intelligence Team than me. It doesn’t come as a surprise.

Up until now, he thought he knew you well. You made it no secret you loathed him. You have never said so explicitly, but he has a talent for reading people. It’s a classic case of envy. He has seen it many times before. You compare yourself to him and find yourself wanting. It colours the way you interact with him; your words brusque, your gaze narrowed.

Not only did he insult your captain, but you consider him more capable than you. Your hatred makes sense. It’s predictable.

Or so he believed, until tonight.

“You know what, never mind. Forget I asked.” Uh-oh. Seems he took too long to respond. You busy yourself with unbuckling his boot, avoiding his eye.

If he were to be honest, there are many ways he could answer you. He thinks you are a better captain than your superior could ever hope to have been. He thinks you are a leader capable of inspiring undying loyalty in your officers. He thinks you have a deep, unflinching love for Mondstadt and its people. He thinks you constantly push yourself to greater heights, to the point it lights a fire in him as well.

He admits to none of those things, in the end.

“Give yourself some credit, Captain,” he murmurs. You glance over in surprise. He meets your gaze. For perhaps the first time in a while, he hopes his words sound sincere—not because he doesn’t mean them, but because he does. “I know the officers under your supervision think you’re a good leader. They wouldn’t want anyone else to take your place.” Certainly not someone like me.

Instead of reassuring you, however, his answer seems to do the opposite. You look frustrated. “That isn’t what I...” you trail off. You search his features, silent, before your brow furrows. “I can’t tell if you mean what you just said. Sometimes I’m not sure I ever can.”

He takes care not to allow his features to visibly harden. Of course you would doubt him, the one time he tries to be honest with you. What else did he expect? Maybe you don't hate him, maybe you never have, but that means little. You won’t ever fully trust him. To be fair, the feeling is mutual.

His mouth tastes unbearably bitter. It must be the wine.

“At this point, I’m willing to say just about anything if it’ll mean I can get some shut-eye.” He feels no satisfaction upon seeing your shoulders stiffen. He still manages to grin. “Well, Captain? Any other requests?”

“No,” you say. Then you tug off his boot with a brisk motion.

He stifles a yelp. “Hey, now! No need to be so rough.”

“My sincere apologies.” You set the boot down next to his other one, your lips thinned. “I should go. Wouldn’t want you to lose more sleep than you already have. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, after all.”

Talk about vindictive. Despite his irritation, he has to fight a smile. Knowing you, you’ll see it and take it the wrong way, as you usually do.

Having finished removing his boots, you turn and walk for the door without another word.

He’s struck with the odd urge to stop you. To reach out, take your hand in his, and tug you back. Not because he wants something from you, or needs to tell you something. He wishes you would stay a little longer, that’s all. Wants the silence to be filled by your voice instead of his thoughts.

Now he knows he’s had too much to drink. He’s contemplating such ridiculous things.

Before his addled mind can catch up and he can say something, apologize perhaps, you shut the door behind you. Your footsteps travel down the hallway, slightly hurried. The door to your quarters creaks open then closed.

He’s too late. It’s for the best.

Kaeya lies back and stares up at the ceiling. His vision swims, as if he’s adrift at sea. Closing his eye only makes it worse.

His mind pores over the events of the day. Investigating Eroch, remembering Master Crepus and Diluc, visiting the tavern, running into you. He feels restless, pulled in several directions at once.

With a harsh exhale, he rises to his feet and locks his door. Then he begins his nightly ritual.

His pauldron is first to go. It hits the floor with a dull noise. Then he peels off his gloves and tosses them on the desk. The burns on his hands have long since healed, but he still deals with numbness now and then. Not many know they even exist; he doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of a potential weakness. His eyepatch follows closely after.

He removes the Cryo Vision from his belt last. He stares at it, its blue glow washing over his scarred palm and turning his skin a sickly brown hue. If it’s been a year since Master Crepus’s death, it has been about a year since he was gifted a Vision as well. The sight of it has been a hard reminder ever since. Of how he’d won a difficult battle. Of how he’d finally revealed the truth. Of how he can never speak it again.

He tucks the Vision under his pillow, then collapses back into bed. An odd sensation fills him, as it does every time he completes this ritual. It’s like he has taken off every scrap of armour he has and foolishly exposed himself to danger, despite being alone in the stillness of his quarters.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling, he closes his eyes and waits for sleep to take him under.

It never does.

#genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #m writes #i can't believe this is finally finished n uploaded... wrow #never thot i'd see this day #i'm nervy posting this ngl it's been. a while since i've written smth like this #hope y'all like it !!!!

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 4 years

Text

Let the Stars Witness

Okay okay holy— omg I did it! My first request and from an admired writer of mine no less!

From @kim-monsterlings : Hi and welcome!! Really looking forward to seeing your work! ~ If you would, could I request some form of friends to lovers with an orc? (Prompts maybe like, "you deserve better.") Thank you! <3

Since it wasn't specified on what their genders are, I hope your okay with what I went with! And I kinda trailed off from the prompt (or rather it's different but similar)

Anyways you'll know when you read!

•

Pairing: Male Orc (Duruk) x Human Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: None.

•

"You know, I never thought I would be friends with anyone here, especially with someone other than my, well, species," you tell your companion, your eyes not leaving the cloudless night sky as you lied on your back on the roof of his house. The stars were out tonight.

If you told your younger self that you'd be having great escapades (if running away and getting into a series of trouble fall under that) with an orc, you would most definitely cry your eyes out because you thought were being teased, taking it as a hurtful comment. You were sensitive like that. Part of the reason why no one would even go near you, afraid they might hurt you with a pat on the shoulder or with one word alone. You became the prime target of bullies, finding twisted amusement at your pathetic reactions. A crybaby, they called you. But it wasn't your fault you didn't have much control over your emotions. You were weird, asocial, timid, maybe even depressed. Having a neglectful family didn't help either, it just worsened.

•

The morning you met Duruk was after the orientation. And it was not so good for a first impression.

Long story short, you cried.

But since you're perhaps curious as to what happened exactly, let's elaborate.

You had your headphones on, the melodic sound of gentle rain played in a 3-hour loop and blocked out other noises, your eyes glued to the path you were on. You took long and hurried steps, wishing you could teleport to your classroom and hide in the back, disappear or become invisible.

You were distracted, or should we say, focused on the ground and expecting everyone to step aside and let you through.

Well, except for the one who had his back on you.

You crashed—not an exaggeration— into something- someone massive. You stumbled back and landed on your bum, wincing from the impact. Luckily, your headphones were safe (ah yes, priorities), detaching from your ears and landing on your shoulders. When you looked up to see who it was, you thought your eyes were gonna fall off, grow little legs, and scamper away.

Before you stood an orc, halfway turned to glance at whoever it was that tried to push him, his sharp tusks jutting out from his maw. His brows were furrowed as he looked down on you. Sure, he wasn't as tall as the orcs you've seen around the city and campus but still was over 6 feet, with muscles thicker than your thighs, easily hulking you.

You tried to get out an apology and run as far as you could go, but you just sat there, frozen as you strained your neck to meet his gaze, you couldn't look away. Your heart was trying to claw its way out into the surface.

Then you felt the tears swell up.

They cascaded down your face before you even could stop them.

The orc's eyes widened at your reaction and crouched down to your level in an instant that he almost fell over. His hands hovered, not sure what to do.

"Hey, hey, please don't cry. Please don't—"

"I-I-I'm re..really s-sorry p-please don't hurt m-me..." You managed to choke out pathetically, hiccuping in every word.

"Shhh now hey, it's okay. It was an accident— what? No! Why would I do that?" he replied. The orc peeked over his shoulder and to the sides. "Let's get you to somewhere, uh, less crowded," he added. You turned your head and saw that you had an audience, whispers went around as they sent pitiful and disgusted glances in your direction, only making you cry even more.

He proceeded to unceremoniously lift you into his arms, bridal style, and dashed away. You gripped the front of his shirt and shut your eyes. You were trembling now, scared of what he might do to you. How could you even fight back with your small stature?

It wasn't long until you felt him slow down and placed you carefully on a bench. The orc knelt in front of you, brows scrunched up as he studied your face.

"You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You didn't reply, only staring at him through your glassy eyes as you heaved.

You flinched when his hand started rubbing your back, his other hand placed on the side of the bench to balance himself.

He continued to caress your back and murmured soothing words in hopes of calming you down.

Your tears didn't stop falling until moments later when you came down from your initial fear, the warmth of his palm leaving your back once you did. All the while the orc remained where he was, at a loss of what to do next.

You rubbed your sticky face with the collar of your pale and blotchy crimson sweater, sniffing and taking slow, deep breaths before you spoke.

"I... I'm sorry for causing you trouble. E-Even going as far as to take me somewhere quiet. I...appreciate that." You thought you'd pass out with the way people gathered around you, it was suffocating. "Thank you..."

"I panicked," he started, "Sorry—I mean, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I get that a lot of people run away from the sight of me, but you didn't, and just froze there on the ground so..." he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

You shook your head. He was such an imposing figure to many, their first thought was most likely to get away or scream at him.

"You looked angry... When I bumped into you." You slammed into him actually, but he didn't budge an inch. Guess it was one-sided.

"Oh, that? Well, my brother scolds me a lot for having such a grumpy face, scaring humans away. Like he was the one to talk when he's taller and bigger than me! People would faint on the spot when they see him, I bet!"

The image your mind conjured up tore a laugh out of your body, two orcs arguing about how not to terrify people at sight was damn hilarious. When was the last time someone made you laugh like this?

The orc grinned, your reaction a contrast to that of earlier.

You opened your mouth to say something but the ringing of the great bell resounded, cutting you off. The two of you stood up as you realized you were late for your first class of the school year.

"So, uh, what now?" you asked.

"How about we go to our class, then maybe meet up later? Oh, fu— my mother will gut me— I haven't introduced myself!" He blurted out, his voice making you yelp with the sudden outburst.

Clearing his throat, he reached out, "I'm Duruk."

In turn, you gave him your name, taking his hand and smiled. "Hello, Duruk."

•

True to his word, you met again later when lunch came. The cafeteria was packed so you settled on getting the convenience food they offered and eat somewhere quiet.

Your conversation that day spiraled when you found out the two of you had a lot in common. From your favorite rock band to your favorite flavor of ice cream.

You both strongly agreed that vanilla ice cream was superior.

You agreed to meet up during breaks, always having something to chat about.

Eventually, you became inseparable.

He even changed and transferred to your class just so the two of you could be together at the start of the day rather than walk half of the campus to see each other every time.

You became best friends, sharing each moment in school, may it be helping the other stay awake in a boring class, or copying homework when one of you forgot to do it. Soon enough, Duruk started inviting you to his house to hang out. He did mention he had four other siblings, but he lived alone. You came by almost every night and on whole weekends to escape from home, only a few miles in between. No one would notice you gone anyways, but you returned around midnight, not wanting to impose on Duruk no matter what he says, so he walks you back instead.

You basked in each other's company. The odd and scrutinizing glares didn't go unnoticed when you two were together, but you shrugged them all off.

It didn't take long before you started having feelings for the orc, a little wishful thinking that you could be more than friends. You noted lately that his touches would linger seconds longer than usual, hugs and even a hand on your shoulder and back seem to be warmer and —you dare say— affectionate. It weighed heavily on your heart, your simple crush turned into something else, and it only grew with each passing day, and every laugh you shared.

But of course, you swatted those away, buried them deep inside every damn time they climb back up. Who could even love you? Yes, you have Duruk, he likes you, you think. But that's the end of it. Just close buddies. You can't take the risk of ruining your friendship with him and make things awkward with the only one you had! What if he stops talking to you, weirded out by your confession? You don't want to go back to being alone again, your heart can't take the rejection that came with it.

So you endured.

•

A little over five months ever since the embarrassing accident, here you are now, stargazing with your best friend.

"Well, good thing you didn't watch where you were going that time then," he says, chuckling beside you. His hands cushioned his head against the hard surface. "I wouldn't have..." he trails off.

"Hm, what?" you ask. Duruk went silent and didn't answer you for a time. You were about to let it slide but then he breathes in audibly.

"I wouldn't have met an angel if you did. Should've caught you in my arms, but sadly I didn't move fast enough." He replies, his voice deep and mellow.

You straighten up and turn to face him, your brows shot up, incredulous to what he just implied.

"W-Wait. What?" you squeak, your heart thumping hard in your chest, your skin warming up even in the chilled night air.

Is he—

"You're so cute, y'know that? Fuck it, it's all or nothing," he whispers under his breath as he sits up to face you. His expression was unreadable, but you see in his mahogany eyes a familiar glint of determination. "I'm not good with long-ass speeches so I'll make this short," he breathes in before he continues, "I feel something for you, for a while now, more than a best friend does, like...in a romantic sense. I want to cherish you and hold you in my arms every time I see you, I- ah fuck- damn it I just—" he growls, "I love you, so much and if you don't love me back then please re—"

You shut him off with your lips against his, Duruk's tusks pressing against your cheeks as you held his face in your hands. He was stunned for two solid seconds before returning the kiss, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you close and into his lap.

You feel something wet roll down your hand and you immediately jerked back to see his face. The orc was crying.

Did you do it wrong? Were you so terrible at it—

"I don't deserve you... A monster like me doesn't deserve an angel like you."

Where was this coming from??

"Say that again, I dare you."

"I don't de—"

This idiot!

You pecked his lips to cut him off.

"You big dummy," you begin, "I love you too, idiot. You may be a monster but not what everyone else defines you as. I love you as you are. You're my best friend, and dare I say my l-lover now. Is that right...?"

Duruk gives you a small, gentle smile, "If you'll have me, then yes, for as long as you want me to be." He says, sniffling a sob as a couple more tears tumbled down his rugged face.

You never thought you'd see him like this. He was the one who kept making you laugh with his stories and terrible jokes. Before you, in your hands was someone vulnerable, his eyes soft and fond as he gazed into yours.

It made your heart pound and it hurt.

You leaned in and he met you halfway, kissing once again, deeper and more intimate this time. Real. You brought your arms around his neck, your tears spilling out and he tightened his grip around you. It felt like a dream, too good to be true, but the way he hugged you like you were the only thing that anchored him in this world made you believe it wasn't. All of this was real and you couldn't be anymore happier.

From above, the glittering stars, the light gentle as they shone, bear witness to two freed hearts, bottled up feelings gushing out like a broken dam as you embraced one another and lost yourselves in the moment of bliss, cheeks stained and clothes lightly damp from the tiny rivulets of liquid that dropped down.

It's a lovely night, isn't it?

#athenawrites #my writing #exophilia #monster lover #orc lover #orc x human #monster boyfriend #orc boyfriend #orc x reader #monster x human #requests #fiction #terato #romance #monster romance #orc

374 notes · View notes

persephoneyss · 3 years

Text

Bad Movie.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f! Reader. Ft. Jungkook.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, angst, gore a little.

Summary: ❝Looking for the person you love, beautiful woman.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment / stalking, humiliation, forced marriage, non-sexual intercourse, abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use naming, minor past master / pet relationships, secondary character abduction, ugly hallucinating hoseok , beatings, blood, photos depicting abuse, mistreatment and death, bribery, sexism and humiliation (directly aimed at female prostitutes), hoseok mistreats and humiliates jk, awkward marriage proposals, use namjoon as a secondary character because it hurts more:(, etc.

Number of words: 6000+

︙Author's Note: This is my longest fic so far, I think. It took a lot for me to do it, especially since I didn't have a clear idea about the whole plot that would take and the role that each character would develop. So if you see Jungkook in a kind of strange character, blame my mind for including him almost last. Also, I hate Hoseok in this fic. Namjoon angel and fallen soldier, by the way let me know if they cried with his death, it hurt me to write it. Thank you very much for the 200 notes in my previous fic, I'm crying.

Read the Warnings well and enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

Confidence, a beautiful and treacherous feeling at times.

Feeling superior is a constant whisper of the ego within you, calling to be released and make others feel as what they really are, despicable and useless trash. It was fun laughing at losers when you haven't had that sense of defeat yet.

Hoseok fervently watched his rivals fall at his feet, laughing at his incompetence and stomping even more pathetic defeated form even though they were already dead in tears of pain. He smiled, he always did when he felt invincible and He bit his lip gently to hold back an excited laugh.

No one could be compared to him, and in his high sense of power he could never be alert when he struck him with a blast of vengeance.

It was you.

His eyes stared at you in horror and anger, his ego inside him hated you from the first moment. Because while despicable, he loved you for much more than his pride and winning sense.

He fell at your feet but he never made you notice it, behaving as he normally would around you even though he was always behind you.

Luck was her greatest ally, he always smiled at her and she helped him. It was fun to play with your opponents pretending to be the victim, the cornered mouse and then smash everyone with a snap of your fingers.

His mother looked at him with love and his father with pride, he was the only and favorite son of the Jung family. His success was never derived from love, much less, it was blasphemy in his family to say something so false and impossible.

Hoseok admired his family when they met in the great message of his parents' house, his grandparents smiled and his relatives brought out their most exquisite stories to entertain. They were all crows pretending to show interest in a prestigious place in the will of the family's monarch, his grandfather.

It was at one of those dinners that he got to meet you, he used to get bored of hearing his cousins tell their anecdotes with prostitute women who mostly called, whores of a night. Mocking their shocked faces when they refused to pay them and threw them out of their big luxurious houses.

He rolled his eyes when a family friend, little Jungkook who was known to his father because of his prestige in his last name, chimed in trying to get into the conversation with a shy smile.

Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly. He didn't like the little idiot sticking his hands in boiling water, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

He hummed a goodbye as he walked out the front doors, walking aimlessly to his bored eyes. His feet stopped abruptly with a strangled sigh when he first saw you, you looked tired as you apparently searched for a key inside your bag. Could visualize the logo on your shirt from the grocery store where he assumed you were employed, He stood looking for what seemed like an eternity at you before you find the keys and rush through the back door. He snorted before lazily continuing on his way, however the next day he ended up following in your footsteps again and with even more confidence.

It took a few weeks for him to be able to enter the small commerce store and be able to look you face to face for the first time, it was expected that you would serve him with a smile asking if he was offered something. But he did not see you anywhere, he looked for you before another equally young woman approached him kindly, he sighed making a face of disgust surprising the she worker, his expensive shoes got dirty on the floors of the humble place with shame. His little investigation and search took him through many corridors of the establishment, he observed the shelves and each person who seemed to be wearing the uniform of the store thinking of finding you distracted with your work, maybe he thought of approaching you and asking for directions which he clearly didn't need. Knowing that she you couldn't refuse because that was your job. In a way, you were there to serve him.

He let out a bored sigh, tired of playing hide and seek, he turned around ready to leave that place that disgusted him so much in a certain way, but once again he stopped in an instant. It was a moan. He clenched his fists, walking hurriedly to the place where the noise came from, he was sure it was your voice and that made him even more angry thinking that he would find you in a compromising position with someone.

He did not think that his lover would be such a stupid and dirty person.

You were crouched on the floor, grimacing with pain and exhaustion. You seemed very annoyed trying to lift a box with your arms, the scene was tender and certainly pathetic, she smiled noticing that you were so distracted that you were never aware of how I was watching you with carnal desire and painfully bad adoration.

"I-can I help you." He was surprised at his little babble, justifying himself later. Nobody ever managed to make him nervous, his father used to despise weak people and certainly he always sought his approval by doing things that were not correct. "They seem heavy."

Your face pale before the scare, turning into a face of shame quickly, you shook your head with a gentle movement, smiling still pained. "I'm fine sir. Can I help you? Maybe he got lost, let me guide-..."

"Actually, I do need help but not with your services." I speak in disagreement, you seemed confused but she nodded at his request. The customer is always right, right? How convenient. "I need you to allow me to help you with that heavy box, not to be rude or calling you weak miss, but you can't seem to handle it."

Lie, under his politically correct excuse was a dialogue about how insufficient you are even with things as easy and common as carrying a box, obviously you needed his help and Hoseok could give you that and more, much more. You just had to say it, it was so simple and fun.

"I -... I can do it, but i will accept your help sir ..." He smiled making an emphasis for he to give him his name, he let out a small laugh finishing his sentence.

“Hoseok, you can call me Hoseok, darling..." He mock imitating his position, your name left your lips like a melody and he immediately felt the sweet taste of it slide down his tongue. Beautifully perfect, indeed. "Now that we can finish the introductions please allow me."

Her expensive outfit crumpled as she bent down to lift the box with ease, you were once again oblivious to her incoherent and certainly crazy fantasies, it was like a romance comedy movie in her eyes. The charming fellow always stays with the girl. And likewise, no one could go against the fictional plot.

He was immersed in the beautiful narrative that you would be hers at the end of the credits.

It was not the last time she saw you, she returned to her same routine of continuing to stalk you with obvious impudence. The only thing that really changed was her new setting and her character, he was hiding between the shelves waiting for the right moment to appear in front of you with a charming smile. Over and over, he was locked in an infinite loop.

He was starting to get tired of just having you in his arms and sheets just in his heavy and lustful dreams.

"A date? How funny Hoseok."

His face twisted in annoyance, but he put on a fake smile again when you looked at him again. "Hobi." He corrected in a high-pitched voice, insisting that you call him that. "And she spoke very seriously my dear, everything is ready."

"Eh ... I -..." A simple wave of her hands was enough to shut you up, you frown in confusion and secretly disgusted.

"On Saturday, I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Goodbye, dear!"

You watch it for a few seconds but he's already gone, you resign yourself to continuing with your work of ordering the products on the shelves. Thinking and trying to remember when you gave him your number. A very characteristic noise distracts you, a call makes you smile with love and adoration.

The plot is taking an interesting turn.

Hoseok was charming by nature, his economic position made him even more desirable to the opposite gender and even his own. It was not strange to see people flirting with him or being suggestive with his proposals, he was on a pedestal and he enjoyed it. His subconscious whispered a little bored. I couldn't deny that he became boring in a way, but you appeared in the story as an extra who soon became a main character. You changed the script of his life already established and narrated.

You were so funny.

He smiled in front of the mirror when he thought of you, since he met you that day he started chatting with you secretly from your supervisor. You had told him several anecdotes to make him laugh, you were also naturally charming pulling out various expressions of adoration that you did not even notice. Oblivious to that, you'd better get ready for the climax of the movie.

The wind was strong in the streets of Seoul, your hair was noticeably messy causing you to let out a tired sigh. You should be planning your wedding banquet right now, but you honestly didn't want to leave Hoseok alone at the dinner he had organized. You put the invitation in your bag, thinking of giving it to her when the time was right with a smile. He seemed like a good person and undoubtedly a good friend in the future.

"You're on time, I was just about to order our food. Honey." The last word slid down his tongue with malice and arrogance, Hoseok inwardly chuckling at your disengaged expression.

"Thanks, but don't stop you can order for both." You say arranging your chair correctly.

The restaurant looked relatively empty, there were only three other people including a couple who ate dinner while chatting enthusiastically.

You smile unconsciously, thinking about what would also make you feel the same way.

"I was looking forward to this dinner, my dear. I also hoped I could tell you how much you have captivated me for a long time, specifically since the first day I saw you." And the others too, he thought shifting your posture.

"Thank you, I'm very flattered to cause that feeling ... in, good in you." You whisper clearly uncomfortable forcing yourself to stay calm. You were sure that you had never given a hint or anything else in Hoseok to establish romantic feelings. "But I-... "

"I know, darling. That is why I have to offer you the opportunity to be my girlfriend and my future wife."

Wife?

For a moment, you feel a rush through your body. You refuse to make a scene in front of all the few people present out of respect, you calm down by counting to ten slowly in your head, but it becomes very difficult for you as you continue to observe his comfortable smile and how he behaves. He seemed very sure of the affirmative respect you would give him, you snort angrily at the thought.

"I am sorry to have been misunderstood Mr. Hoseok, but I am not seeking a relationship with you and very sorry I reject any relationship beyond friendship." Your body lifts up, making Hoseok laugh well in advance of your final sentences. "I am engaged and my future husband is waiting for me, good afternoon."

Trembling, you leave the invitation in silence, leaving the luxurious premises in the same way. The waiters watching you with surprise, being an audience of rejection and humiliation on your part. Hoseok sighs, sipping his wine glass patiently pretending not to hear what the couple behind him are saying.

What a bad luck.

Life wanted to want to return all his damn vanity to him, making fun of him with your almost imminent rejection, obviously he knew that you were engaged and that you loved the poor man who had the bad luck to be his competition, but love is not always the important thing in a relationship or at least not of both parties. The voices of the waiters and the couple distract him from his plans for his next step, he clenches his fists angrily dropping the silverware on the plate calling the attention of everyone in the place.

"Filthy vulgar and talkative people, she will be my wife even if her words have been heard by her prying ears." He raised his voice, causing everyone to shut up. "It's just part of the script."

Maybe if the character who wanted to be the main loses the role of him, he should be the villain. The bad guy in the movie.

He read the invitation with meticulous delicacy, laughing at the little message you put aside. He thought about attending for a second, wondering if it would be nice to walk in to go straight to the altar and shoot your husband willing to take his place by your side. But that would be risky.

"Where are we going, sir?" He asked his driver with a smile.

"Take me to the best brothel in Seoul." He whispered delicately, smiling just as happily as before your rejection. I'd make you pay double the bill for your indulgence.

And likewise, the world is a truly small place. Jungkook nodded clearly uncomfortable obeying someone other than Mr. Jung. Hoseok cornered him like a helpless rabbit in the claws of a cunning fox, flashing his jaw in warning. He felt confused about his little assigned task, watching the direction pointing the right way to his chauffeur who only followed orders.

A small feeling of remorse ran through him, making him want to vomit when he remembered how Hoseok's face was so close to his with arrogance, as his hands roamed his arms gently. He was disgusting how he used his power to such a useless and demanding gain, sometimes without any realism.

"Little Jungkook, you have a very lovely name. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, you were so insignificant that you seemed pathetic to me." He whispered making her wince. "My father told me that you are good at obeying, I would like to test his theory." His cold hands were constantly running down his arms, making a shiver run through his body. "Still remembering well, I already did it before."

Jungkook was weak under his cloak of power, where he could so easily hide it. Lose it. "Yes, h-hyung." An inappropriate moan came from his lips causing him to cover her mouth in shame, a little touch near his crotch was enough to tempt him. Hoseok smirked, narrowing his eyes before walking away slowly wiping his fingers on his expensive clothes in disgust.

"I want you to befriend someone, don't ask, just do it. I'll tell you your next step when you're done." He ordered bored.

"We are here, young Jeon." Notice Jimin with a smile, Jungkook sighed wearily thanking him before getting out of the car ready to fulfill his mission.

I observe him for a few seconds standing in the entrance without doing anything, he was cleaning the windows of the building with force. He seemed like a nice person, certainly a bit humble. He approached making the man bow respectfully, even though he was older. Money can buy everything, they say.

"I am young Jeon, a new investor. May I have a chat with you?"

The man was surprised, no one who was someone by name and a few numbers along with several zeros would be able to notice his presence and at least greet him. A coffee sounded more intimate and undoubtedly inconvenient for him, but again out of respect he accepted the offer with a smile adorning his features.

"My name is Jungkook informally, but I like you and you can call me that." He spoke kindly.

"Namjoon, Mr. Je -... I'm sorry, Jungkook." He corrected sheepishly, making her smile.

He still didn't understand that he planned to do Hoseok with a building cleaner, but he didn't feel in a position worth asking. Furthermore, he would still not receive an honest answer.

He passed by the same place every day, pretending to enter the building only so he could meet Mr. Kim and talk about unimportant subjects. He gained his trust almost immediately, promising that he would give her a better job soon at his own company. He felt like an idiot taking advantage of the man in front of him in such a way for a simple whim from Hoseok.

He was an idiot, but he didn't want to go back to what he was before. A pet.

"I'm very happy, I think she will make a good wife." He responded with encouragement, seeing how Namjoon nodded looking for a picture of his fiancée to show him. He seemed excited, Jungkook understood his happiness after he explained that he saved for a long time to achieve his dream of getting married in a church. They were both in it together, in looking for a future.

He got lost in his thoughts, maybe if he lied to Hoseok about gaining trust from him, saying that Namjoon was a very cold and quiet man, he could make him forget about it. He sighed squeezing the coffee cup in his hands, Namjoon caught his attention by showing a photo of you smiling at the camera with a background of the bridge and the sun behind making a beautiful background.

Jungkook became alert, having seen that face before.

Hoseok had you as the wallpaper on his phone, he knew it was you because of your characteristic features and the scarf you wore in both photos. You were the new fad of a rich fool.

"T-is ... She's so cute, you're very lucky."

Namjoon nodded with a smile, apologizing before returning to his work upon being called by his supervisor. Jungkook put aside his cup feeling the bitter taste of his thoughts, Hoseok was planning something, he knew he was a son of a bitch who liked to keep his plans under lock and key and in a deep grave. He walked away calling for Jimin quickly, before being accosted by Namjoon who came running over, seemingly forgetting something of the utmost importance.

"I apologized Mr. Jeon, but I wanted to give you this personally. It is an invitation, in addition to the proposal to be the best man at our wedding. My fiancee said that it would be appropriate for me to choose someone and I decided that you were perfect, you can decline if you prefer. . " He spoke kindly, as always. Namjoon seemed to have no hatred in his heart, making his own feel heavy on his chest.

Could he bear the blame?

"It's my pleasure to accept her proposal, thank you for considering me. Good afternoon, namjoon-hyung."

He said goodbye by getting into the car as fast as he could, making Jimin look at him with derision. Obviously noticing his nervousness, Jungkook sighed hiding the invitation as much as he could before reading Hoseok's message ordering him to go to his house to sort out his affairs.

It seemed like a joke as he always looked so flawless, ready to humiliate him again.

"Jungkookie, I'm glad to see you again. Now, we'd better come in for our talk." He smiled making anger grow inside him, Hoseok sat on one of his expensive furniture before pouring himself a glass of wine. "Well, I heard from a little bird that you accomplished your task. Good pet."

"Don't call me that, hyung." He grunted in annoyance, making him laugh. "I can't go through with this, I did what you wanted. Leave Namjoon-hyung alone."

"Oh, they're close now really cute. But you forget that I can't fulfill your wish, because "Namjoon-hyung " is an essential piece in my little game." I speak mocking him as always. "Then we will move on to the next step ..." He thinking for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Invite him to a bachelor party night at the brothel in the center, I already made the reservation. When they are there, leave him alone. A whore will take care of him properly, and maybe you can go make him a oral another yourself." He sneered evilly, reminding her of his past, Jungkook bit his tongue resisting the urge to respond properly. "Since you're clearly good at it, little pet."

"Yes, hyung."

Hoseok nodded saying for him to leave asap, tired of seeing his stupid face. He got up ready to do so, but his arm was taken tightly before bringing his face closer to hers, Hoseok let out a sigh, doing he could smell his breath of mint and wine combined. His hand lowered him into his pockets dangerously close to his crotch, he bit his lower lip to resist a moan escaping him, this had happened before and he begged it to stop forever. From his pocket, she pulled the invitation out, making her gasp in horror.

"Godfather of wedding, new facet of you... kookie." Rolling he eyes pushing him away from him, he fell to the ground before being met by a blow to his cheek. "What a shitty pet, you idiot."

Two days was enough for you to tremble at the thought. Your dress was proud to be seen, it was the most comfortable dress you could find at a fair price. Namjoon tried to enter but he was stopped by your friend who said that he will wait until you keep the dress out of his sight avoiding bad luck. A smile wavered on your face, everything was perfect up to a point.

Namjoon looked at you, a blush covering his cheeks before asking his obvious question. You didn't expect him to want a bachelor party, but you couldn't refuse because you simply trusted him.

Maybe it was your mistake.

You wished him luck, feeling an inexplicable emptiness. Your friends didn't offer to make one for you, they just sat on the couch in their living room talking about movies and arguing about what color the cake would be. It was the calm before the storm.

Jungkook felt a giant headache, the lights of the place were making him dizzy. Jimin had insisted on going with him to such an 'unusual' place to keep him safe. Namjoon had brought a couple of friends who seemed to be always close to him preventing the woman who did the job Hoseok had him do from becoming difficult.

He smiled, thinking that he would have no choice but to let it go. But Hoseok was not a good loser, and neither was he a good winner.

Hoseok:

He distracts his friends, and be careful what you say, kookie.

Received at 11:30 p.m.

He bit his lip, glancing around the bar, thinking he'd find him sitting somewhere spying on everything but nothing looked suspicious. He sighed, sending Jimin out for drinks with one of Namjoon's friends who he gladly accepted. He got up having pushed one away, the other who introduced himself as Jackson seemed more reluctant to leave his friend alone but with a few excuses about feeling bad managed to get him out of sight.

Believed that he would find Namjoon sitting right where he was before but no, he was gone. He felt a burning feeling of guilt, maybe if you didn't find out, nothing would happen.

"You're still the same as before, boss." Jimin sat down next to him, making him uncomfortable.

"Same as before? I am no longer a child."

"But you continue to obey as one. The manipulation they use on you is your greatest weakness, you are afraid, you obey without hesitation thinking about how this will indirectly affect you. But you never do anything to avoid it, you feel bad about this but you still sit here without doing nothing."

"What can I do, Jimin? I don't know if he really left by his will, or if they forced him. I don't want to enter a room in this dirty place and see him sleeping with another woman, because he wanted to and is a fucking infidel . "

Jimin ignored his words, falling silent after several seconds.

Feeling unhappy is a horrible feeling without a doubt. The curious eyes looked at you as if they themselves could judge your story.

Namjoon disappeared as quickly as the wind, many sharp tongues said that he eloped with a lover so as not to marry you. Others believed it was a kidnapping, maybe a robbery gone wrong and he was taken away or he was killed somewhere far away. A sob escaped you just thinking about it, the detective in front of you watched you cautiously.

"We don't know anything about him yet, but we will continue with the investigations."

You nod, without saying a word. Jungkook came in minutes later with a handkerchief in hand, he observed you before gently hugging you. You had the pleasure of meeting him after Namjoon disappeared that night, he introduced himself as a close friend from work and quickly offered to help you with the search.

Maybe he felt guilt.

"Thanks, Jungkook." You smile wiping the tears that escape from your eyes.

"They are looking for the best they can, they even alerted the Japanese embassies in case they might take him there."

"Japan?" Puzzled questions. "Why would someone take him so far? He's just a man with little money, that's ridiculous."

"We don't know, but I promise I won't rest until I find it."

Hoseok sighs bored, witnessing the moment. He had been bribing the bloody police force to hide the information from you about the discovery of your fiancé's corpse floating in the middle of the waters of the river where they used to go together. The only thing that was removed intact from his clothes was a small photo of you smiling, sitting on the banks of the same river.

The police mourned the death, but his faces left grief when they saw the money in his hands. He made fun of Jungkook as usual, who passed by him ignoring him when he went to his house to talk to his father, he knew that the useless little one was very meddlesome in the search for your future husband and ex-fiance. He rolled her eyes remembering how she used to look at him with discontent in meetings, suspicious of him.

He was a good detective, he couldn't deny the obvious.

"You didn't have to do this, a I'm sorry was enough." You say admiring all the bouquets of flowers that came to your house from him. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

He wasn't sorry.

"My dear, losing a loved one is something without a name. I can give you more than this if you promise to smile again, I love your smiles."

Jungkook snorts approaching you from behind, Hoseok to growl at noticing him so close and see how he puts his hand on your shoulder, apparently like support.

"Hyung, he didn't think it's a good time for ... That."

"But little kook, when is not a good time to express how you feel about your loved one?"

"When that person you say you love is crying over the loss of someone special because of evil people who don't know what remorse is. Do you understand that, hyung?"

"No, not really." He laughs cynically making you lose your patience, your little body comes between the two men, with one already furious and the other inadvertently giving up, you make a face of annoyance before speaking.

"Sirs!" You yell at him immediately, Jungkook steps back adjusting his tie. A mania that he had and that you noticed when he presented himself in front of you with regret, he did it when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "This is not the time to argue, I think you'd better leave my house if you're just wasting your time. Thanks for the flowers Hoseok, and Jungkook ... I, I want to continue the investigation on my own."

"That?!"

"What you heard, don't feel responsible for Namj's disappearance -..." You tremble correcting your words, making Hoseok scoff. "My husband, he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place. Thanks for your help, I'll see how to pay you very soon." Jungkook denies trying to insist but fails when you are already closing the door and giving him an apologetic smile.

Your breath feels heavy, you sigh falling to the ground sobbing again. You wanted to find Namjoon, but a large part of you was afraid of how. Dead, with another woman, with serious injuries or simply ... Alive but with trauma for life. You did not want to see him suffer, it was your judgment in life to see the person you love cry in his pain.

You observe yourself, telling yourself that you would be fine when you find it.

Your email seems to explode with thousands of messages received from people claiming to have seen a man like Namjoon near their homes. You ignore them knowing that most of them were false, the first few days you read all of them giving the police false clues that they quickly denied and dismissed.

You dry your tears, closing all the windows and cooking a simple instant soup, eating in absolute silence. It was overwhelming feeling alone at home, where you were supposed to feel safe indoors.

The rain, thunder, and evil outside seemed to be invisible within that place.

A chill runs through you, the control of the television seemed tempting to calm that neat silence and avoid your boredom. You give up turning on the TV, you see the first channel, you keep changing looking for the unknown, you didn't know what you wanted to see. Maybe a newscast saying they found a tall man with dark brown hair and charming eyes unconscious, with a couple of blows to the face and a few scratches but okay, safe, alive and waiting to see your face waiting for him with a warm smile.

Swearing never ever to let go.

A couple of tears slide down your cheek, ruining your fast food. A few knocks on the door manage to scare you, causing you to bite your lip in anger.

"Who is?!" Questions in a shout.

Nothing.

"It better be good ..." You say in muttered, you open the door expecting to see a child running to his house laughing at his childish joke.

But no, there is no one at the door. Just a small envelope that easily slipped underneath, you take it hoping it's a letter from the police announcing good news. Maybe a simple identification of suspicious faces, or footprints at the club.

"I hate being the bad guy, it makes me feel good.

He's dead, I did it for you. For me. For us. I want to make you happy but it's so difficult when I don't know what you want, tell me what you want.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

My heart is so weak in your cold eyes, I feel that you look at me with ignorance of my feelings. Do you want to find it? Do you want to do it?! Okay. Good luck with it. "

It was everything, plus a picture of a golden ring with a large diamond shining brightly. You wrinkle the letter in anger, tossing it into the first bin you found nearby. It seems that in the end, someone did want to joke with you.

Your days remained the same, you went out to work and in the afternoons you called each of the investigators to ask for new news, it was almost always a solid wall, there was nothing really important to report and little by little, they gave up.

Jungkook knocked on the door, he heard some footsteps approaching making him have a little hope. But when the door opened he saw you with a worried face, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he tried to get closer but you avoid him by leaving in a hurry. You were dressed in a long black skirt and a white blouse, you were elegantly ready for something.

"Where are you going?" He ask stopping your hurried pace, taking your arm tightly.

"Yo, listen... He... Or her, I don't know who it is but ... You know, he or her know where, he's alive I know. I just don't have time, please."

Your mouth moves wiht fear, you were hiding something but not from him. You were willing to tell him but not now. Not at that time.

"Let me accompany you, I can take you and I will feel better if you are safe."

You nod, letting go of his grip and running down the stairs, outside there is a very elegant car, apparently waiting. The driver smiles at you as if he had known you before, you make an uncomfortable face trying to continue on your way but Jungkook introduces him saying that he works for him.

"Jimin, he's Jimin. He's a good person and a great friend, I've told him about you before."

"I see, sorry." You speak with a bow before climbing to the back, Jimin just smiles kindly, as always.

"Where are we going today?" He asks animatedly, Jungkook takes your hand for support making Jimin remove the smile from him. Your nervous state and your afflicted face are enough for him to understand the situation.

You give him an address, Jimin searches the map being unknown to the place. Your eyes sparkle when the lights of Seoul are reflected in them, Jungkook holds your hand tightly in fear of letting you go again. He felt sick when you stopped calling him, cutting connections with him totally to this day. He spend sleepless nights looking for more clues, the only thing I had until that moment was the identity of the woman, she was a prostitute without anything special, when he spoke with her he seemed indifferent saying that he did not know Namjoon and that the last time he saw him It was when he drugged him and left him in a room as ordered.

The whore made fun of him saying that he would give him this information if he did not tell the police anything, he obviously accepted. Now he repented, the woman disappeared after that and days later she was found in a garbage container. It seemed to be a suicide, the container was from her building, the window of her old apartment faced just where she was supposed to fall if she threw herself without thinking twice.

Right in the garbage.

The wheels of the car made a thud when it stopped, it was a cabin, the only one nearby. You came down quickly thanking Jimin who just made a flirty face. Your hands trembled with the cold, you look at the letter that tells you where and when you should be standing at the door.

"Wait for me here, if we don't go out or you hear noises, you know who to call."

"Yes sir!" Jimin obeys with a laugh at the boss's serious tone of him.

"Y-you should go, I can do this alone." Your voice rises in the echo of the silent place, Jungkook rolls his eyes before offering his arm to you, making his decision clear.

You laugh calming your nerves, the door opens just as you both step close to it. A man stops them, saying that only you can enter the next room. You stop Jungkook who was to protest, you calm him down by leaving your ring in his hands with a smile.

Your body disappears when another man closes the door silently, Jungkook sighs looking annoyed at the guards who ignore him.

A message coming to his phone distracts him for a few seconds.

Jimin:

Should I call the police, Mr. Jung, or the hospital?

Received at 9:35 p.m.

Smile ready to answer before hearing the door open again, he approaching you to ask everything and at the same time nothing. Your pale face is enough to make want to hit the person who was inside with you. Questions remain in the air, your arms surround him while you sob for forgiveness.

From the shadows Hoseok smiles, admiring the document in his hand, your signature shiny as gold is glued to it. He thought it would be more difficult to convince you to accept his marriage proposal, but the precious and expensive ring fit you perfectly. He raised his hand proudly admiring his own, the wedding would be planned as soon as possible making him jump like a happy child.

You had accepted, with the promise that he would bring you back to Namjoon.

But it was never specified in the contract that he would be alive.

The wedding was in a meadow, outdoors with distinguished guests and a few friends and family of yours. Hoseok greeted everyone, by taking your hand tightly introducing you as his wife immediately. It's as if he wants to show everyone that you now belong to him, as if you were a prize.

And maybe if you gave him the key to her success.

"You better smile my dear, nobody wants to know what will happen if you don't." Her lips brushed your hand before placing a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, my beautiful protagonist."

You sob, tears falling from your face as you melt into his disgusting caresses. The man in front of you, your un-predestined husband. The one who stole the position of your true love, he was kissing you delicately.

"Don't cry, decorate the room just the way you wanted. The photos were a special touch ..." His teeth bit into the sensitive skin of your neck, an involuntary groan of pain escaping. "Love you."

Your eyes move desperately to find a photo where the beaten, abused or dead body of Namjoon cannot be seen. You scream when you find one where you see blood everywhere, you are resigned to look down at the ground where Hoseok was crouching kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your mind tried to process the idea that Namjoon had been killed, mutilated and thrown into a river that washed away his body along with happy memories. Farewell to him was prolonged as your body faded in pain.

Hoseok enjoyed the sight of your eyes tightly closed, his cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you like his wife.

The head of the bed moved crashing into the wall, and unconsciously your walls tightened around it causing it to release a curse aloft to the sky.

We got to the end of the movie, smiled as he dazzled the credits by seeing Jungkook's lost name. His little bitch who was his toy for many years, laughed remembering how she did wonders with her mouth.

He pretended not to know him when her father introduced him, taunting her hurt face.

He held you in his arms tightly, you had been struggling to free yourself from his grip as he continued to abuse you over-stimulating your pussy. Your eyes closed falling asleep from crying so much.

He caressed your face, kissing your dry, chapped lips.

The end.

#bts #bts smut #bts yandere #yandere #kpop #yandere bts #yandere bts au #yandere kpop #yandere!bts #hoseok yandere #yandere hoseok #jhope #yandere! jhope #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bts fic #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #yandere hoseok x reader

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gerrydelano · 2 years

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i'm going to be totally honest with you here- i have appreciated the fics and meta you and ren put out, and your opinions by and large, but for several months now ive been feeling more and more uncomfortable with the way the two of you handle race and gender. yes, the TMA fandom is racist as a whole in ways you don't fall into- but sitting here watching you and another white TME person talk about how you (unlike everyone else) don't do xyz racist thing, how you (unlike everyone else) think about the transfem experience, etc... it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. i can't remember the last time either of you boosted the voice of a PoC about racism in the fandom, or even more so, the voice of a transfem person about transmisogyny. your heart seems to be in the right place but it really feels like the two of you have kind of developed a superiority complex about how you handle race, ethnicity and transfemininity in your fics and meta. and i'm not here to act as a sensitivity reader (seeing as I am, most importanly, not southeast asian- also, i would want to be paid, lol) but I can tell you that your depictions of race are also very much not without flaws. please just stop with the whole "i can't belieeeeve how white-centric transmasc-centric the fandom is" schtick. it's annoying

ah whoops, i'm the last anon and i just checked your about page- i thought you were white from having seen a selfie of yours, and i see now i am wrong about that, my apologies. still, my point about transfemininity, and of representing cultures that aren't yours, stands

oh ngl i wasn't even going to go out of my way to correct you on that last piece (though i appreciate that you checked/came back to add that, thank you) because i have worried about this very thing before and don't want to ever separate myself that way. i would much rather be told to knock it off than ignorantly continue to present myself like that. it's good to be told how we come across to people who don't know us personally/talk to in a group chat about these things because, like. yeah, it matters. this was never my intention and the idea that it looks like this at all is embarrassing, shameful, and something i want to address.

under a cut purely for dashboard courtesy! no defensive spiel, i'm just responding to be fully transparent and make it clear that i take this feedback seriously. i want to apologize & tend to the issue in any way i can.

tldr: the solution we agreed on right now is to honestly just stop talking about these things at all, barring replies to people engaging with us about our own content (because that can include critique) and boosting voices, like you said, which is pretty much all my main blog is dedicated to in the first place.

i did just take a look and the last thing i even reblogged about any of these subjects was from june of last year by a mutual of color, so i don't really know what prompted this right now? i'm still going to accept this because you pointed out that this was several months coming, i know i was very vocal once and have already been implementing change based on criticism from back then, but that doesn't mean that this never happened at all. i'm truly sorry for making you feel this way.

the only thing i'd like to actually elaborate on/explain is just the way you specified that i haven't boosted any voices as of recently; this looks to be an unfortunate consequence of the way i've been trying to gradually extract myself from the fandom completely with the intention to eventually just leave tumblr. being here for so many years has damaged me, i have been people that i am not proud of, and things like this kind of mistake i have made are a big part of that. so for a while now i have just been like. trying to quietly finish my series, with private consultation with people when necessary, and not really look at any fandom content or conversation anymore. so, that much at least has honestly been because i no longer participate in the fandom at large but you ARE right that things we do still interact with on that front should be reblogged from others who have more weight. i've unfollowed a lot of blogs and straight up don't See conversations take place anymore, and i am often too tired to like. even contribute fully anyways. i don't WANT to make posts anymore, and generally haven't been.

so actually i do feel a little bit like i'm being approached for something that ren does a lot more of as of rn and they agree that this probably should have gone to them? we may be close, but i can't speak for or apologize for them, so they'd like the chance to be held accountable for their own actions and respond themself. that obviously isn't to say i haven't watered this image myself, and we are talking actively about ways we can both improve. they're going to reblog this and reply, too. i'll leave that to them.

as for accurate portrayals; i never claim i'm perfect at that either skdjkf i would much rather be corrected or told to look further into something than, like. not. i know very well that i don't do anything perfectly, as that's an unattainable standard for anybody especially one in my limited position, so i just. want to agree with you that i am sure there are flaws and i can't expect you to know how much effort gets put in when i don't publish those conversations/that research process either.

okay, i hope none of the clarifications made here looked like shirking accountability or arguing, i am in agreement that this image is irritating and should not be a thing. i really appreciate that you sent me this and am genuinely sorry for the discomfort that has been caused. i hear you! and am going to continue to adjust myself on my way out.

#asks #anon

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dreamkidddream · 4 years

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I really enjoyed your writing on the ADA members with a younger sibling like partner <33 I was wondering if you could write the same scenario but with Chuuya and Fyodor? Except the younger partner in question has a rough past and cheery/joking personality similar to Dazai(?) I'm super excited to see more of your writing!! c:

Hi anon! Thank you for the compliment and for reading (here’s the scenario for those that want to read it)! The only difference is that instead of this reader being pure, they’re going to be like a mini Dazai (or at least similar to him). One change that I did make was that Reader isn’t as suicidal as Dazai (ie. constantly trying to find a way to end their life), but Reader is ready to go whenever and wherever, whether it’s on their terms or not. Reader is gender neutral and hope you enjoy!

Also ayyyeeee my first time writing for Fyodor! Hope I did him justice cause his part took a while lol

TW: Mentions of suicide, dark moments (Reader is a bit sadistic, but nothing graphic is mentioned) small spoilers for Dark Era arc and Season 3

Acting as a Younger Sibling with a Rough Past and Personality Similar to Dazai with: Chuuya and Fyodor

Chuuya

Well he was extremely disturbed to say the least. Okay extremely may be over exaggerating, but the way you acted got underneath his skin bad

You reminded him too much of Dazai, minus the suicide attempts and the animosity towards him. Although that didn’t stop the morbid jokes from happening

“Hey Chu-Chu, what did the librarian say to the guy that wanted to check out a book on how to commit suicide?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that!-“

“Go away, you’re not going to bring it back. HA! A knee slapper, am I right?”

He wondered if Dazai got to you first like he did Akutagawa, and if he did, that was just another reason to strangle him

You were his partner, and you were young. So seeing the way you interacted with everyone and everything with such a pessimistic attitude while still being cheery was alarming

Not to mention how easy it is for you to just readily accept death at every turn. You’re the literal embodiment of “guess I’ll die” and it drives Chuuya up the wall every time

He remembers the one time an enemy held you hostage how you were so cheerful to finally be rid of this joke you called a life, and that you told the guy who was holding a gun to your head to “put it between the eyes, it looks 10x better that way.” And “don’t be afraid to blow my brains out either! But you do you, but I think it’s a rather stylistic choice if I do say so myself.”

The man thought you were trying to distract him at first, but when he figured out that you were serious he honestly got so nervous he was ready to just let you go and suggest therapy lmao

After he handled the situation, he took you directly under his wing. Sure, you were already his partner, but he was really going to look out for you including outside of work. If it meant that he had to “babysit” you, then oh well

Plus he didn’t want to face Mori if he just let you die while under his care

You realized what he was trying to do when you two would go off to “collect information” and would be doing the complete opposite. “Hey, I’m kinda hungry, let’s take a break and grab a bite to eat.”

“I thought we had to get this info back to Mori ASAP. Not that I care if he’s mad, he’s been holding out on me and this is the perfect way to take revenge.”

“Holding out how?”

“I told him that since he’s a doctor he would be the perfect teacher to show me some new techniques.”

“...on?”

“Torturing, duh! My methods are getting kinda stale, and I do want to perfect my craft after all. I want to be good at something before I kick the bucket, Chu.”

Poor man is honestly in so much distress because of you please help him

And the way you interacted with the other members was both entertaining and horrifying to watch at times. Majority of the time, you were this happy go lucky kid with a dark sense of humor (you still made people smile, although sometimes it was tense or apprehensive, but whatever a smile is still a smile). But when you were having a bad day or a mission was going wrong, everyone knew to steer clear of you.

A new recruit tried to cheer you up one day, telling you that “it could always be worse”. You then got pulled into the office with a very angry Chuuya and a mildly disappointed Mori.

Chuuya finally had enough after months of this occurred. It was like a never ending cycle: except your behavior was getting increasingly more reckless and dangerous. It was driving him crazy trying to figure out why you were this way and if it was any way to snap you out of it

He wasn’t a stranger to death, he’s seen it with his own two eyes, end even killed people with his bare hands. But the huge difference between you two is that he didn’t particularly enjoy killing, if it had to be done then he had no problems doing so; it comes with the job y’know? But with you, you took actual pleasure in killing. It filled you with a sick sense of glee, and it even made his stomach turn

The bond between you two grew from just a typical work relationship (as far as working in the mafia goes). He knew that from underneath your rather concerning persona, you were just troubled. Someone or something made you this way, and while he had his own troubles growing up, he was able to deal with it and overcome his issues. It just seemed like you just...gave in to yours. And it made him feel pity for you.

You didn’t mind Chuuya at all. You actually liked being his partner! He was pretty much the only person that you didn’t feel a need to harm or kill. And he was fun to be around, when he wasn’t being such a party pooper (I mean what’s the point of being in the mafia when you can’t purposely spill some blood every now and then for fun?). The only thing you didn’t like was how he would try and get you to talk about your past. You honestly didn’t see a point in it, it’s called the past for a reason, why didn’t he understand that?!

But no matter how many times you would shut down or try to change the subject, he would always try again, and again, and again. It was very annoying. And you didn’t like to talk about it. Why didn’t Chuuya understand that?!

Eventually, his pestering worked. One day after a rough mission when he had to patch you up, you opened up to him. You didn’t immediately tell him everything, but you gave him small insights to what happened, to what lead you to be this way

You could tell that he was grateful that he was finally getting somewhere with you. And you yourself was surprised that your dynamic didn’t change. He didn’t look at you with sympathy in his eyes, he didn’t baby you, he wasn’t disgusted by you, everything was normal. The only difference is that Chuuya told you that it was okay to talk to him, and that you shouldn’t be scared to approach him (psh you scared, yeah okay)

Chuuya felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders once you opened up. You were still a bit sadistic (but you did tone it back after the recruit incident, and after you saw how repulsed he looked, so you just did everything behind closed doors now) and had your cheery persona on, but it felt a little bit more real now. It felt genuine. It gave him a good feeling to see some spark in your eyes instead of the full he felt himself getting used to. And he would never say it to you, but it also gave him a warm feeling with him being your role model (you knew but didn’t want to burst his bubble yet)

Your change wasn’t very noticeable at first, but that’s okay. No one needed to know, it was fine with just you and Chuuya. You still felt the desire to just be done with life, but it wasn’t your focus whenever you were with him. You hadn’t made peace with your past yet, but you felt you could one day with him by your side. He was someone that you didn’t knew you needed (or wanted to admit to), but it worked out in the end. You had doubts that you could or would ever change, but if you did, growing to be someone like Chuuya would’nt be the worst possible outcome

Plus, whenever he did run into Dazai with his new sidekick, he is 10000% bragging about how much better and cooler you are, with him being the superior between them both. He can’t WAIT till you guys can whoop their ass

Fyodor

Well weren’t you such an interesting character

To see someone as young as you ready to just leave this world in an abrupt way was intriguing, and he realized that he could use this to his advantage. Maybe even give you something to gain in exchange

He found you hiding inside a disgusting abandoned building (a fitting place for a rat if he would say so himself), drenched in blood. Fyodor didn’t necessarily care why, but he was curious about one thing: why were you smiling? Your eyes were so lifeless, yet here you were smiling so bright, as if you weren’t covered in someone’s blood

Fyodor found himself smiling down at you. Did you think he was prey, that he was going to be your next target? He wanted you to try, he wanted to see what you were really capable of

“Tell me, what is going to be your next move? Do you wish to attack me?”

“If you do something that I don’t like, then yes, that’s the plan. Why are you here Mister? You wanna have some fun too?”, your smile turned into a smirk, twirling your very sharp knife in your hand. “You’re not even from here, so why are you trying to bother such an innocent kid like me?”

He matched your smirk, “You are from innocent, child, even a blind man can see that. To see just how full of sin you are. This wasn’t your first atrocity that you committed nor would it be your last. Which is a shame, it might be too late for me to cleanse you of your filth.”

Oh, he was going to be very amusing to mess with. But you weren’t stupid. Something wasn’t right with this man. No one would walk up to someone with copious amounts of blood on them, holding a weapon that caused said blood, while berating them about being “full of sin”. What was his ability? Did he have people with him? Was the building surrounded or booby trapped? These questions swirled around your head, all while he just kept smirking at you. He was pissing you off, who the hell did he think he was?

But you kept your anger at bay, plastering a cheerful smile on your face. “Sin? Cleanse me of my filth? I guess I do kinda stink but who exactly do you think you are, some type of God?”

“That’s exactly what I am. I’m here to free this world from this wretched curse that has been brought upon.”

...huh? Did-did he escape from the asylum or something? Did he seriously believe himself to be a God (not even a prophet but an actual God)? Seeing your confusion, he continued on, “The curse of ability users. They plague this Earth, and they need to be eliminated.”

“Why is that? What’s wrong with having abilities? Hellooooo, some people’s abilities are actually pretty cool! If you just have a terrible ability, it’s your problem, not the world-“

“Why not let me show you why it’s indeed a curse?”

“And how would you do that? You must be crazy if you think I’m going anywhere with you. I may be dangerous but I’m not dumb!”

“You poor, misguided soul.”, he tutted at you. “Look at where you have ended up at. These people with these so called “cool abilities” have failed you, have they not? Yet you still idolize them, not believing that they are the reason for your misfortunes. If they were truly your idols, they wouldn’t have left you to fend for yourself, to live among the rats. They left you to rot, do you not see that?”

He was hitting too close to home, he was getting too personal, too close. He didn’t know you at all, you’re a complete stranger to him, but why did his words hold some truth to them?

“Come with me, and I will prove to you first hand why this has to be done.”, he was now physically close to you, staring you deep into your eyes. “It would be such a waste for you to die without knowing the truth, wouldn’t you agree?”

You didn’t have much, he wasn’t wrong. But if he could take you somewhere with real food and not scraps you had to fight to find, and to have real shelter, then fine. You agreed. And if you felt that something was up, you’ll just kill him, run away, or both

After he took you away, he kept to his word. It seemed like he was really was telling the truth, you getting first-hand experience like he promised. It was scary that he was right, but you were also indebted to him. He not only allowed you to live in luxury (at least it was luxury to you considering what you had before), but he opened your eyes to what the true problem is. He gave your life a new purpose. If you two were able to successfully complete his goal, then your problems would be gone forever right? You would finally be able to feel a sense of peace, and you can’t wait till that could happen

You and Fyodor, after he opened your eyes, bonded easier than in the beginning. You were smart enough to not fully trust him after leaving with him, but after just a couple of pulled strings to cause certain things to happen, you slowly melted and molded into the way that he planned. You would be an excellent pawn in his grand plan, and you would do well in keeping him entertained at the same time

You were a joyful child, even when carrying out his dirty work, you did so gleefully. After joining the Rats in the House of the Dead, you tried to spread that joy among the other members. They didn’t find it very amusing, but you didn’t care and neither did Fyodor. You were far too important to let go of now

You were always by him, it seemed. Always in the same space, whether he was planning his next move, and playing the cello, you were always there with this look of awe directed at him. Every time he would catch you staring, he would simply chuckle and softly reprimand you about, “how rude it is to stare, but you simply can’t help it.”

He even taught you how to play the cello!

You sounded terrible but practice makes perfect

As time went on and the end goal seeming to be closing in, he came to see you as more than just an expendable tool. He found out about your past, but simply proved to you once again why you two had to make sure the curse was ridden as soon as possible. No one wanted a repeat of what happened to you to happen to anyone else, so the mission had to be success. Failure was not an option

Fyodor didn’t see himself as a cruel man towards you. He just didn’t mince his words and he made sure that you were dealing with the truth, and not some lie that was attempted to be twisted as reality. If anything, that was the way that he showed that he held some compassion for you, he wasn’t willing to let you be lead astray from the truth again, not while he was here. You had somehow wiggled your way into his mind, where he had been accepting of your close bond, and he took that into consideration

Once his goal is achieved and he has truly made his place known as a God, he’ll make sure that you gain your rightful place among him as well. You were worthy in Fyodor’s eyes, and as long as nothing came in between your bond and the end goal, then everything will work out. He will make sure of that.

#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #bsd reader insert #bsd headcanons #bsd chuuya x reader #chuya x reader #bsd fyodor x reader #fyodor x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd fyodor #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

zero gravity ✰ namseok

✰ pairing: namjoon x hoseok x reader

✰ genre: space au, f2l, angst, smut, slight crack & fluff

✰ summary: being the captain of a spacecraft is all fun and games until the only two others on board start hooking up and you start falling for both of them. it’s only natural that you act out - just a little

✰ word count: 11k+

✰ warnings: 18+, pre-established namseok relationship, mentions of throbbing disco sticks, jealousy, an unintentional viewing of dick pics, dom/sub themes (bratty sub!reader, dom!joon, switch!hobi), a bdsm club (reader watches a scene), grinding ft. jooheon from monsta x, smut (slight voyeurism, mxm, manhandling, spanking, threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it), oral (m + f receiving), double penetration, slight breeding kink)

✰ beta’d by: phia @meowxyoong | ✰ banner by: rose @jeonggukingdom

✰ commissioned by: THE LOML ATLAS @miamorjoon I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS UWU

The blinking lights from the monitors adorning the walls of the control room of your ship - The Imperial Kween - illuminate your path as you make your way towards the navigation deck. It isn’t like you to be awake at this hour; you’re usually sound asleep by 0100, tucked snugly in your soft bed within your cozy captain’s quarters. Yet, here you are at 0300 after a late night of binging Tron and Agnate Plus Eight (Tentacles).

As captain of the Kween, you are perhaps a tad bit overprotective of both your ship and your crew. You had won your ship some moons ago when you were on Xyreus - the lawless planet of the Huvian System. You had been on the run, having just recently fled the Space Force Academy where you had been a rising captain.

The Academy had seemingly been your only option as an orphan. Your years there had been heavy with intense physical, mental, and intellectual training. The strict regimen enforced by your commanders had almost crushed your spirit. Almost.

Instead, your path had crossed with Jung Hoseok and Kim Namjoon. They had been assigned to you in your last month with the Academy when you rose high enough in the rankings to begin training for captaincy. You had been designated as their tentative captain with Hoseok as your pilot and Namjoon as your first officer. Upon meeting them, you had been the perfect captain that your superiors had wanted you to be - cold, callous, calculating.

But then you had grown to like the boys. Actually, it had more so been that they had forced you to like them. With the two of them surrounding you day in and day out, your walls had crumbled. Hoseok taught you how to be happy again, how to see joy in the little things, and how to share that joy with others. Namjoon made you see other options, futures separate from the rigidity that had been the only life you knew.

It hadn’t been until you caught them whispering about wanting to leave the Academy that you realized that could be a possibility. And then that possibility became all you could think about. You had hacked into the Academy archives, taken inventory of the ships in the cargo bay, and carefully extracted information from your commanders.

What you had found was not pretty. Yet, it had also been strangely unsurprising. Perhaps you had always known the Academy was built on corruption and oppressive tactics. Perhaps you had subconsciously chosen to ignore it until you couldn’t anymore - not when such pure souls like Hoseok and Namjoon had relied on you and still do.

You had laid out your plans to Hoseok and Namjoon at the last possible second, protecting them from anything incriminating until the end. Your heart had burst when they dropped everything, choosing to follow you, to stay with you, to trust you. You think that had been when you first knew you loved them.

Sneaking out had been easy. You had been scoping out a small ship in the cargo hold, tinkering with its systems to get it set up for your escape. The hard part had been staying out. You, Namjoon, and Hoseok had barely breathed sighs of relief before you had Space Force officers tailing you. While Hoseok worked on evading their grasp, you and Namjoon had decided to direct your course to Xyreus to ditch your stolen ship and to negate any authority the Academy might try to push on you.

The three of you had spent a year on Xyreus, trading the parts from your Academy ship for a tiny apartment. The Academy eventually had lost interest in you all, probably replacing you easily. You had obtained freedom by the pen of a freelance forger who constructed new identification cards for you and your crew. And you had won your ship.

It had been a particularly eventful night. Hoseok and Namjoon had dragged you out of your apartment and to the Snake’s Den - a particularly popular club within Xyreus’ gambling district. The boys had really been into the fight scene and the rapid betting that accompanied it. You, however, had found your place amongst the card players. Your game of choice back then had been and still is Queen’s Revenge - a vicious game of strategy and deceit.

Amidst the haze of the club, you had located your people, settling into the crowded booth of players. Soon enough, you had picked your victim, a loud, obnoxious fellow from Gwexion who would not shut up about his ship. “She flies faster than any ship you’ll ever see!” He had cried, thrusting his stein of Xybrew in the air, “And she can vanish without a trace with the flick of a switch!”

You had wanted that ship. And you had gotten it.

About two hours after sitting at the table, you had made your move. “My ship for yours,” You had wagered, taking advantage of a lull in the conversation. The rest of the booth had laughed, only seeing you for your gender. Twenty minutes later, there hadn't been a sound other than the sobs of the man from Gwexion and the jingle of the ship’s control keys in your hand.

Hoseok and Namjoon had berated you for hours about your recklessness of wagering a ship you didn't have. You hadn’t cared; you had known you would win and finally be able to fly. The three of you had sold your apartment the next day, boarded your ship, and flew off. You haven’t looked back since.

Now, two years later, you’ve made quite a name for yourself across the galaxies as a mercenary of sorts. Your trade of choice? Information.

If something is going on in space, you’re likely to know about it; and, you’ll make people pay for that information to be shared or to be kept quiet. As captain of the Kween, you’re in charge of keeping the ship running - and that includes earning a profit.

Hoseok and Namjoon aren’t too fond of your enterprise of information because it often puts you all in danger. You can’t fault them for that. You know this venture is tricky, but it's also very lucrative and it often results in you screwing over bad people. So, you take that as a win.

You arrive at the navigation deck and sigh in disappointment at the absence of Hoseok who sometimes monitors the flight course during the night. Instead, you activate your ship’s Responsive Electronic Environmental Systems Engine - simply called R.E.E.S.E. for short. “Hey, R.E.E.S.E. Status report, please.”

“Hello, Captain (y/n). It is my esteemed honor to deliver a status update to you at this hour. I have been getting so lonely, you see. Usually Pilot Hoseok stays up with me, but tonight he has abandoned me for—”

“R.E.E.S.E.!” You groan. This is typical R.E.E.S.E., going off about something trivial in a dramatic fashion.

“Oh my. I have done it again. My apologies, Captain (y/n). All systems operating as normal. Shields activated and secure. Navigation set on nightly autopilot course.”

“Thank you, R.E.E.S.E.” You gaze out of the front windows for a moment; the view never gets old. Countless stars surround you with planets of every color scattered in between. Sometimes, you would see an occasional ship passing by, but right now there is not one to be seen.

You deactivate R.E.E.S.E. and head back to your captain’s quarters. Walking through the control room once more, you pass through the common quarters and finally enter the hallway containing your shared bathroom, both Hoseok and Namjoon’s respective quarters, and then your own at the end. The hallway is dim, illuminated only by the slight glow of the floor beneath you.

You move slowly, careful not to wake either of the boys.

And then you hear it.

Your first thought is porn as you pause in your tracks, standing stock still as the sounds of muffled groans and slapped skin seep through the sliver of space under the metal door leading to Hoseok’s quarters. Is he really jerking it right now, you think as you shamelessly creep closer to get a better idea of whatever - or whoever - is going down right now.

“Fuck, give it to me harder.”

Yup, that’s Hoseok all right. You place your palm on his door, dirty visuals racing through your mind. Who is he imagining? What you wouldn’t give for him to be thinking of you...

“Oh yeah, I’ll fucking give it to you hard, baby. Just how I know you like it.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you slap your palm over your mouth. Holy shit. Holy fuck. Holy hell in a handbasket. That’s Namjoon. Namjoon is there with Hoseok, fucking Hoseok.

Your imagination goes wild - as do your heart and your thoughts. How long has this been going on? How have you missed this? Are you that oblivious? Or are they just that good at hiding their relationship? Why haven’t they told you? Do they not trust you as much as they say they do? Do they think you won’t accept them if you knew?

It’s those final thoughts that hurt the most.

How is it possible that you know the intricate plans of an uprising occurring on a planet light years away, but you don’t know your only two crew members are hooking up?

You somehow manage to soundlessly continue down the corridor to your quarters. How does someone respond to overhearing the two men that you’re desperately in love with having sex? And just steps away from you at that?

All of your training never prepared you for this moment. You sit in your empty bed, gazing out the large window that takes up the majority of your quarters’ back wall. Emotions roll over you like waves. Arousal. Grief. Shame. Longing.

It isn’t that you are upset at them for being with one another. If anyone in the galaxies deserves love, it is Hoseok and Namjoon. You are more upset with yourself for naively thinking that they might have had feelings for you, that they might have loved you back.

There had been that fateful night at a bar on Xyreus when the three of you had gotten just a little too drunk on Xybrew and had fooled around. You still remember the feeling of Hoseok grinding into you on the bar’s tiny dance floor, his hands wandering across your body, driving you insane. You still remember the taste of Namjoon’s lips as he pushed you up against the wall of the small alley behind the bar, his fingers digging into your ass as he pushed his hips into yours. You still remember how Hoseok watched you with fire in his eyes as Namjoon sunk to his knees and—

Fuck, you can’t go there. You can’t revisit that memory because it only ends in disappointment.

“A drunken mistake,” They had called it the next morning before you could get a word in edgewise. “A threat to our crew’s dynamic.”

What a joke. It turns out that their only regret must have been including you.

Your mind wanders to all of the small moments over the past few years. The hugs, the tender looks, the things that had made you question whether they actually felt more for you after all turned out to be just signs of friendship.

With all these thoughts heavy in your mind, you eventually fall into a restless sleep.

The next morning comes all too soon as you find yourself going through the motions of everyday life with much less enthusiasm than normal. You’re drained, both from your lack of sleep and from the onslaught of emotions that still riddled your body.

And so when Hoseok greets you in the ship’s kitchen with that beautiful smile of his, you can barely get your lips to even turn up slightly.

“(y/n), are you okay?” Hoseok’s eyebrows are drawn together and he looks concerned.

You sigh, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring yourself a cup. “Yes, I’m fine, Hoseok. I just didn’t sleep very well,” You eventually answer him, refusing to meet his eyes and choosing instead to gaze into your coffee like it might tell you how to behave right now with the knowledge you gained last night.

Obviously, it does not. You only see your distorted reflection gleaming back at you from its brown depths.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hoseok pouts, making his way over to your side, “Is there anything I can do?”

You try in vain to ignore the affect his proximity has on you as you flick your eyes across his form. Hoseok is tall and lithe with delicate features and the most beautiful heart-shaped smile you’ve ever seen. Though he may look slight, you know the lean muscle that lies beneath his oversized t-shirts from the early mornings you catch him roaming around shirtless and half asleep. You have first hand knowledge of how well he can move that body from the late nights at the clubs on Xyreus. You know how well he f—

Nope, not today. Instead of going down that dangerous path, you choose to be the little shit that you are when you feel like you are at a loss. “You can share your secret on how to be so well rested, Hoseokie,” You say, your eyes laser-sharp on his expression, “You’re practically glowing this morning.”

Hoseok’s cheeks flood with color as he laughs lightly and replies with a slightly wistful look on his face, “Maybe someday, (y/n).”

You let out an unamused huff, which only makes Hoseok laugh again. You glare at the happy boy and then stiffen as arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back against a warm body. “Morning, (y/n),” Namjoon murmurs into your hair, his fingers leaving a blazing heat on your skin as they drag across the swell of your hips.

He turns your body around to face him, and you hesitantly bring your gaze up to his. God, he’s just as beautiful as Hoseok. Namjoon’s height had been the first thing that you noticed about him in the Academy. The second had been his dimples. You have been a goner for him ever since.

Your eyes drift up past his strong thighs to his tapered waist, his toned chest, his tanned neck, and finally to rest on his warm brown eyes. “Hi,” He grins, those godforsaken dimples popping out to greet you, too.

“Hi,” You manage to reply, your heart constricting painfully in your chest.

Always too smart for his own good, Namjoon catches your mood immediately, “What’s wrong?”

“She didn’t sleep well,” Hoseok comes up next to Namjoon, throwing an arm around his shoulders. His frown is prominent as he stares down at you. Namjoon’s expression quickly matches Hoseok’s as he brings his hand to cup your chin, lifting your face up to look at you.

“Baby,” He murmurs, “Were you dreaming of that damned place again? I thought that had stopped for you.”

You bristle under the weight of their inspections and from the pet name you now know means nothing. Namjoon is, of course, referring to your recurring nightmares from the Academy, and he is also inadvertently giving you the perfect excuse not to come clean about the real reason for your fitful night.

And so you nod as best you can with Namjoon’s hand cupping your chin, and the boys exchange a long look. Hoseok turns to you, “Go rest today. Namjoon and I can handle things. Okay, lovely?”

You turn away, forcing Namjoon to drop his hand. “I need to plan out a potential deal on Naroxu,” You mutter in disagreement, “I’ll be fine.”

“Naroxu?” Namjoon bites out, “(y/n), we talked about this.” You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Sometimes it feels like you're not the captain of your own ship. And it is exasperating.

“You know what?” You grab your coffee, brushing past the boys, “I think I will go rest after all. Don’t disturb me, okay?”

“But (y/n)—!” You leave them in your dust. Of course you should have realized they would have a problem with Naroxu. It’s a planet just as lawless as Xyreus, but it’s focus is more on the carnal sort of chaos. You aren’t unaware of the dangers that lay within the pleasures on Naroxu; you’re just unfazed by them.

Apparently, Namjoon and Hoseok feel differently. Your boys can argue with you about anything in the name of “safety”. You’ll definitely need to make certain that you’ll have a foolproof plan which leaves them with no room to argue. But, that is a bridge you shall cross another day...

A few days later, you realize that you definitely must have been oblivious to the relationship occurring right under your nose. There are signs of it everywhere - in the way they speak to one another, in the way their eyes linger, in the way their hands brush as they pass each other by.

You have not dared to venture out of your quarters late at night ever since that fateful discovery, but that doesn’t help. Your thoughts are constantly plagued by the sounds of their desire, their intimacy. Your mind conjures images that you can’t forget. You crave that. You want to be part of that passion with a desperation you have never felt before.

And so, you have accordingly descended into internal chaos, choosing to throw yourself into your plans instead of joking around with Namjoon and Hoseok in the common quarters like you usually do in your spare time.

They know something is up. It’s not like you haven’t spent almost three full years together. Knowing each others’ tendencies and habits is second nature. Well, clearly that knowledge has excluded intimate relationships - at least for you.

The tip of your pencil snaps under the strength of your grip; and, when you look down to assess the damage, you sigh. All you have written down so far is: “Plan A: Go with Joon and Hobi. Plan B: Go without Joon and Hobi if they don’t like Plan A.”

Pushing your desk chair back, you stand and stretch out slightly. The rest of the logistics for the meeting are set. Now comes the hard part - convincing the boys to come along. It’s not that you can’t go alone; it’s that you feel better knowing you have two people watching your back, no matter how frustrating they might be.

Walking out of your quarters, you make your way towards the sounds of laughter and low voices coming from the control room.

“We really do have to tell her soon, Hobi.” You hear Namjoon say as you draw closer. Are they talking about you?

“I know, Joon. I’m just scared. I don’t want to lose her friendship.” Hoseok’s voice is small, barely above a whisper.

“You won’t, baby. Just think of how free we’ll be to share our love…” Your ears strain to hear them now, even as you get closer.

“...Leaving her.”

Your feet stop in their tracks. Leaving? Are they really thinking of leaving you? Your body sags against the wall, sliding to the floor. What would you do without them?

You guess you could recruit a new crew, but no one could replace Hoseok and Namjoon. Not when they’ve been with you through everything. Not when they’ve accepted you for who you are. Not when they’ve become your life.

You allow yourself to sit for a moment. And then you collect yourself, shoving your useless emotions down to the pit of your stomach. You just need to move forward and enjoy every last second with your boys before they go. Because they would leave you, and you would let them go because you love them.

Standing, you make sure to make louder footfalls then normal to alert Hoseok and Namjoon of your incoming presence. Sure enough, the minute you step into the control room Hoseok tackles you in a hug.

“(y/n)!” He picks you up and swings you around, “I’ve missed you, lovely!”

You laugh despite your lungs being constricted by his tight embrace, “I saw you last night at dinner, you fool.”

Hoseok sets you down and jokingly pouts down at you, “But that was so long ago! You left me all alone with this one.” He juts his thumb out at Namjoon, “And you know how he can get.”

“Not as well as you,” You mumble under your breath.

“What was that?” Namjoon narrows his eyes, focused on you from his nearby stance leaning against the wall. His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his dark t-shirt straining against his biceps.

“Nothing,” You smile sweetly at him. “Hi, Joon, nice to see you, too.”

Namjoon stares at you for a moment more and then sighs. Walking over to you, he pulls you close, “It is really nice to see you, baby.” That blasted nickname is going to lower you into an early grave. Indulging yourself with a short hug from Joon, you pull back and decide it's time to get down to business.

“Alright, let’s go over the plan for Naroxu.”

“(y/n)!” Namjoon shoves a hand through his hair, “I thought we scrapped that idea. That planet is on our ‘no-go’ list!”

“Naroxu is dangerous, lovely,” Hoseok’s wide eyes bore into you, “Please think this through.”

“You scrapped the idea,” You say to Namjoon, “I kept it. Besides, that ‘no-go’ list was all you and Hoseok.” Turning to the boy you just named, you continue, “And I have thought this through. Extensively, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself, okay?”

You can tell they are getting pissed; but honestly, so are you.

“We know you’re a ‘big girl’.” You do not appreciate Hoseok’s use of air quotes, but you allow him to continue because you’re gracious like that. “But there are tons of bad people on Naroxu who would love to chew you up and spit you out - physically and metaphorically speaking.”

“Gross, Hobi,” You scoff. “And before you both cast judgement, why don’t you give me a chance to explain the plan? You don’t even know who I’ll be meeting for gods' sake.”

The boys exchange a glance. “Fine,” Namjoon bites out, “But this won’t change my mind.”

Obviously, you think to yourself. Trying to get Joon to change his mind is like trying to get R.E.E.S.E. to delete the overwhelming amount of data she has dedicated to some group of musicians from Earth. Impossible, but you would always try anyways.

“Okay, so the contact that I’m meeting on Naroxu is Joohoney—”

“What?!”

“Joohoney from Monsta X?!”

“Oh my gods, will you let me finish?” You roll your eyes to the ceiling and plead with any higher power to help you find patience, “Yes, Joohoney from the Monsta X clan. How many other people in the galaxies go by that name?”

Hoseok opens his mouth to answer, and you cut him off, “That was a rhetorical question, Hobi.” He blushes, bottom lip sticking out slightly.

“Anyway, we’re going to be meeting up at this space BDSM type sex club called Throbbing Disco Sticks. I’ll tell Joohoney what he wants to know, he’ll pay me, and we’ll bounce. Got it?”

You get nothing but silence. Looking at them, you notice the tightness of Namjoon’s jaw and the darkness in Hoseok’s gaze.

“Oh, now you want to be quiet?” You push them, “Well, you can both stay here. I made a separate plan to go alone so—”

“Not happening,” Joon grits out, moving closer to you. “We made a pact, (y/n). Or have you forgotten?”

“Together or never,” Hobi recites and you almost laugh. It’s absurd that they bring this up when they had just been talking about leaving.

“Fine,” You shrug, “Then we leave at 2200. Hope you have something tight to wear.” With that, you stalk out of the control room. Their shouts follow you.

“Tonight?!”

“(y/n)!”

You grin. Maybe this will be fun after all.

Update: it is not fun after all. You only have twenty minutes left to get ready and you’re panicking. You had just made the mistake of asking R.E.E.S.E. to bring up pictures of Throbbing Disco Sticks and immediately had regretted all of your life decisions.

Is that why they named that club what they did? You think both you and R.E.E.S.E. are scarred from the unexpected amount of male genitalia that the search produced. Only after you add the addition of ‘Naroxu club’ do you get the results you’re looking for - mostly.

You had just wanted some guidance on what to wear. Instead, your thoughts are now full of images of chained leashes, silk ropes, and dark rooms with blinds raised to welcome an audience. You wonder what sort of things happen in rooms like that and if you’d ever get a chance to try those things out.

Your tablet beeps, alerting you of your upcoming meeting. Taking one last glance in the mirror, you assess the way your tight leather pants accentuate your body and your slightly sheer black crop top hints at your lack of bra underneath. Still, your outfit is missing something… You think it over as you tug on your pointy black steel-toed heels.

Ah, you stand and make your way over to your trusty jewelry drawer. Of course. Carefully pulling out your body chain from its place, you drape it around yourself. The chain clasps around your neck and then falls lower between your breasts, settling around your waist. The coldness of the metal causes you to shiver, but the way the crystals embedded in the silver glisten as you turn to admire your final outfit makes it worth it.

You keep your makeup minimal - just a red lip and a slash of black eyeliner. You want to blend in, not make a statement.

Finally, you tuck the map outlining the information Joohoney wants into your back pocket. Any bag you might bring would be searched, so you can do without one.

You take one last calming breath and make your way down the hall to meet the boys. “Hoseok, Namjoon: Are you ready?” You call as you don’t see any sign of them out in the common quarters.

“Coming!” Hoseok’s voice calls back to you and then he emerges from his quarters.

You have to use all of your might not to let your jaw drop. It seems like he also had searched up what to wear because he looks like he stepped right out of the pictures you had seen just a half hour ago.

Hoseok is wearing tight dark jeans tucked into black combat boots that buckle up to the middle of his calves. What he isn't wearing is a shirt. Instead, a deep red leather harness is strapped across his chest with a silver hoop in the middle.

Did he just have that harness lying around? Gods save you.

While you are busy ogling Hoseok, you fail to notice him doing the same to you - so much so that he doesn't move an inch from his spot until Namjoon bursts out of his own quarters and bumps right into him.

At this point, you begin to sweat because Namjoon looks just as lethal as Hoseok in his light jeans, a black leather thigh harness, and a completely see through tight mesh t-shirt. You watch as he fiddles with the two leather cuffs circling his wrists.

“Hoseok, what are you doing?” Namjoon scowls, dropping his hands to his hips. Hobi says nothing and just points in your direction.

“Why are you pointing at me?” You huff, “Don’t blame me for being an idiot and just standing there practically waiting to get hit.”

Namjoon stalks towards you, eyes blazing into you as he takes in your outfit. “Change,” He orders.

He’s giving you orders? A burst of heat flares within you that you try to classify as anger but fail miserably.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Joon,” You fold your arms across your chest. Hoseok chokes as he comes up to stand next to Namjoon who is suddenly all up in your face.

“Go. Change.” Namjoon’s voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it.

“No.” You stand your ground. Why is he trying to dictate your clothing choices anyway? He’s not your father or your boyfriend - not that you’d let either of those people tell you what choices to make with your own body.

Namjoon turns to Hobi, who still hasn't uttered a word to you, and says lowly, “Go set the course to land on Naroxu.”

Hoseok practically runs off in the direction of the navigation deck. You gape after his fleeing figure and then turn back to face the fuming Namjoon.

“Listen,” You shove your finger into his admittedly toned chest, “I don’t know what has gotten into you, Kim. This outfit isn’t even that bad. Besides, you’ve seen me naked before. Remember?”

“You’re really going to ask me if I remember.” Namjoon’s face is inches from yours. His scent wraps around you and you have to collect yourself for a second. His eyes drop to your lips for a second so brief you believe you imagined it. “You’re really going to ask me that as if the image of your body isn’t burned into my memory and as if every single time I close my eyes I don’t see you.” Namjoon takes in a shaky breath, “And so, (y/n), I’m begging you. Please go change. Not for you, but for me. And for Hoseok.”

You’re at a loss as your brain scrambles to make sense of the words Namjoon just spoke. Okay, he does remember... So, is he mad that it happened? Or is he mad that it only happened once? Must be the first, you think. He has Hobi, after all.

“Maybe you two should stay back,” You suggest, patting Namjoon’s chest comfortingly, “Then you won’t have to look at me while I look like this. I’m sorry it brings up bad memories.”

Namjoon looks completely baffled, “What? What the hell are you talking about? Stop trying to get us to leave you alone!”

“Please,” You laugh without humor, “Like I have to try.”

This time, Namjoon just looks pissed. “Baby, that’s the second comment like that you’ve made today. And I’m getting the sense that you have something to say. So why don’t you just say it?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He is so onto you.

Namjoon’s presence looms over you, making you feel so small. Your gaze drops to the floor, “I don’t have anything to say.”

“You’re lying. Hm, what a bad girl.” Your head snaps up, eyes wide as you try to slow the pounding of your heart and the increasing pressure between your thighs.

“Do you know what happens to bad girls, (y/n)?” Namjoon croons, eyes dark and locked on yours. You don’t even have the ability to respond, and so he just continues, “They get punished.”

A small whine bursts from your throat before you can stifle it back down. Namjoon’s smile in response is predatory.

“(y/n)! Namjoon! We’ve landed! Oh—”

You and Namjoon turn to stare at Hoseok whose face shows a whole number of emotions in the blink of an eye. Hurt. Confusion. Lust?

All of a sudden, the ship feels too hot, and you need to get off. Ducking around Namjoon, you head towards the ship’s main door. You can hear them murmuring behind you, but you ignore them.

You need to get your shit together. It’s not good to get distracted on a job. It’s even worse to get distracted before said job even starts.

Practically punching the exit button, you tap your foot and wait for the door to open and the ramp to descend.

“(y/n),” Hoseok calls to you, “Slow down! We need to talk to you!”

“No time,” You reply, stomping down the ship’s ramp. Barely taking a second to appreciate the beauty that is Naroxu, you power forward through the landing site. Ships of all kinds surround you. The night sky is a dark inky purple and Naroxu’s famed twin moons shimmer with swirls of silver.

“Then make time!” Namjoon’s growly response sends a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the crisp night air. You increase your pace, heading towards where you hear thumping music and peels of laughter and murmured conversation.

“Namjoon, you of all people should know that’s against the laws of physics,” You retort as you finally burst through the end of the landing site and into the crowded street dotted with neon signs and vendors of all sorts.

“She’s so infuriating!” You hear him spit out behind you to Hobi, and you can't help the smile that winds its way across your face. At least you aren’t alone in your anger.

Finding Throbbing Disco Sticks is the easiest part of your night. You simply follow what looks like cylindrical sticks of shimmering glass mirrors spinning from atop a building. There’s a line that winds its way from the club’s doors and down the block. You quickly realize that your outfit is on the conservative side and grimace. You settle for tying your crop top higher on your waist so it hits right below your breasts. This is the best you can do.

“(y/n)!” Hoseok gasps from beside you as he realizes what you’ve just done, “Why are you torturing us like this?”

“Not this again,” You groan and decide that - fuck it - you’re going to name drop to bypass the line. It’s totally tacky, but you’re desperate at this point. Ignoring the hecklers amongst those waiting, you come to a stop in front of the two burly bouncers who are clearly Naroxuin natives with beautiful lilac skin and curling silver horns.

“Can I help you, little lady?” The slightly taller one addresses you, and you immediately swoon at the depth of his voice as it flows off his tongue like chocolate. Damn these sexy Naroxuins…

“I’m meeting an old friend,” You flash them your best smile, “And he doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Would you be able to let us in?”

Blinking your wide eyes up at the two bouncers, you watch as they exchange a short glance and then turn back to you. “Who’s your friend?” The other bouncer asks you, his sharp eyes assessing your figure.

“Jooheon,” You say, shrugging, “He usually goes by Joohoney.”

Their eyes grow large. “We didn’t know Joohoney had a pet,” The first bouncer comments, eyes flicking over your form, “But then again, you are quite delicious, aren’t you?”

A hand slips around your waist and grips it firmly, while another settles on the small of your back.

“Oh, does Joohoney share?” The second bouncer grins, his eyes turning to crescent moons as he stares at the hand digging into your hip. “I never would have guessed. Keep me in mind, would you, pet?”

“Oh, shut it, Jimin,” The taller bouncer laughs, “Like she’d ever pick you over me.”

“Fuck off, Tae,” Jimin glares, stepping aside to let you through. “Have a nice night, pet. You know where to find me.”

“And me!” Tae calls, laughing again as Jimin shoves him.

You move along, shaking your head at the oddity of that encounter.

“I thought you were supposed to be keeping a low profile!” Namjoon hisses over to you as soon as you’re out of earshot of the two bouncers.

“Yeah,” Hoseok mutters, “Flirting usually doesn’t fall under the category of ‘low profile’.”

“Oh my gods,” You tug out of their holds, “I barely said two words to them! And I didn’t realize that flirting at a sex club would be completely out of the ordinary. Wow, lock me up!”

“Don’t fucking tempt me.” Namjoon’s response is immediate. Your breath hitches as he corners you close, “Now, go finish your little mission and we’ll settle this back on the ship, baby. And, believe me, it will be settled.”

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. You watch as Namjoon tugs Hoseok further down the corridor towards the main club area. “We’ll be watching!” Hoseok calls over his shoulder and shoots you a look you’re not even sure you want to interpret. And you can’t - not when you have a meeting to attend.

After grabbing a non-potent drink from the bar, you make your way around the crowded club. The dance floor is packed full of people of all shapes, sizes, and skin tones. You even see a few Uyiths with their glowing gold skin in the far corner, practically providing light for their whole area.

The majority of the clubbers here seem to be experienced in the lifestyle. Many are collared or are the ones leading the collared. Others are unclaimed and waiting to be approached or to approach. You, however, are just trying to not be propositioned for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes.

“Well, aren’t you exquisite,” A low voice murmurs from your left.

“Not interested,” You say, sipping your drink and wishing you weren’t on a job so you could have something stronger.

“Your loss,” The man shrugs in your periphery before slinking away. At least this one had not been pushy like the last. You had to threaten to remove his balls using just the tip of your stiletto to get him to flee. You are so over it.

Hopping off of your barstool, you decide to explore the rest of the club while you wait for Joohoney. You try to ignore the heat from the two pairs of eyes glued to your every move. And then you duck into the dim hallway that you know leads to the individual rooms full of sin.

The first few have their blinds closed, much to the disappointment of your curiosity. However, the fourth room is fully on display. Only two others are gathered in front of the glass, paying close attention to the activities occurring on the other side.

And what activities they are… You peer through the glass at the sight. A man is tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross, his arms and legs straining against the cuffs as a woman dressed in only a leather bustier runs her finger teasingly up and down his shaft. A second man lays beneath her, his face buried between her legs. Your attention returns to the man restrained.

What had he done to deserve such painfully pleasurable punishment? Had he done it on purpose?

As if he feels you staring at him, the man’s head lifts up and he meets your eyes. A small smile forms on his lips as he raises his chin to acknowledge you.

The woman turns to follow his gaze and raises an eyebrow at you. She hooks her finger in your direction, beckoning you to come inside. Almost subconsciously, you listen. But before you can take a step, a hand catches your wrist and tugs you back.

“What are you doing, lovely?” Hoseok’s voice jolts you from the scene that had captivated your attention. The woman in the room eyes you for a second more and then shrugs, returning to her other playthings. “You weren’t really thinking of joining them, were you?

“And so what if I was?” You reply petulantly. You cast a glance around you, noticing that the other couple watching had since disappeared and that there is no sight of Namjoon. “Where’s your other half?”

“My other half?” Hoseok’s nose crinkles adorably as he thinks, “Oh, you mean Joon? He’s taking care of something.”

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead, “He’s taking care of something? Why does that sound so sinister, Hobi?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, lovely,” Hoseok grins and then glances over your shoulder at the scene you had been watching. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

You, of course, turn immediately. The man is still tied, but now the other is sucking his dick as if his life depends on it while the woman watches with a small grin on her face. She holds a small device in her hand and is fiddling with its buttons. Then you notice the glimmering jewel that winks back at you from the ass of the man kneeling.

“It is… What do you think is hot about it?” You ask, as the tied man moans, throwing his head back and baring his throat.

“All of it. The way she commands the room, the way the men please her, the way she tortures them. I don’t know who I’d rather be,” Hoseok lets out a small laugh, shoving a hand through his tousled hair, “Do you?”

“I’d want to be tied up,” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Hoseok’s breath hitches in his throat as his hands come down to clench your hips.

“(y/n), lovely, I’d want to see that, too,” His eyelids are heavy as he stares down at you. One of his hands travels lower on your body, palming your ass slightly.

“H-Hoseok,” You gasp, your back arching into his touch.

“Goddamn, lovely,” Hobi moans, “I thought I might never get to hear you say my name like that again.”

Your thighs clench as you vividly recall the memory not unlike this when Joon had eaten you out against the back wall of the club and then Hoseok had slid into you and fucked you until you couldn’t walk. You definitely had cried his name more times than you could ever count.

And this makes you so confused. Does this mean he had been wanting to hear you moaning his name again? That makes no sense considering he’s sleeping with Namjoon and planning to leave you.

Hoseok must read the thoughts on your face because he sighs, bringing your hand to his lips. “Later,” He promises - of what, you don’t know. He presses a kiss to your knuckles and then disappears back into the crowded club.

“Well, that was quite a show,” An amused man emerges from the shadows, “Just when I thought you might join the Mistress with Suga and Jin, you get caught up in another. How delightful.”

Sighing, you stick your hand out to greet your contact, “Hi, Joohoney. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Joohoney’s dimples flash at you as he grins and you internally melt. God, your thing for dimples is getting out of hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, pet. Please, call me Jooheon.” His hand grips yours firmly as he takes you in. You pay him the same regard, eyes wandering over his black long sleeve shirt with the sleeves pushed up his forearms. His shirt is tucked into slim fitting black pants and cinched with a belt that looks like it could also double as a harness. He looks expensive as hell.

And then what he says registers to you.

Groaning, you tug your hand out of his and grimace, “That wasn’t my fault! The bouncers just assumed, and I didn’t think to correct them.”

Jooheon’s grin turns wicked as he stares you down, “Oh, I’m not complaining. You can be my pet anytime you want, (y/n)…” He not-so-subtly flexes his wrist where a black choker with a silver ring in the center is wound around it twice, “This would look pretty around your neck, wouldn’t it?”

You struggle to find a response, your mouth opening and closing as you blink at the absurd turn your night has taken.

“Ah, don’t answer that. Let’s dance,” Jooheon smiles sweetly down at you like he hadn’t just asked to own you in every sexual way possible.

So you agree, nodding slightly, and then he whisks you onto the dance floor. The music thumps through you as Jooheon drags you into the throng of the crowd. Looking around you, your eyes fall on your boys.

Hoseok and Namjoon are wrapped around each other, their bodies pressed together, hips grinding to the beat. Their eyes are both on you, their gazes absolute and piercing. Namjoon grasps Hoseok closer to him, his hands drawing the other boy further into his crotch.

Are they really doing this right now? In front of you? While staring you down?

And so when Jooheon grabs your own hips to pull you back into him, you let him. The response from Hoseok and Namjoon is immediate. Namjoon’s nostrils flare as he watches you begin to shift your body in time with Jooheon’s. Hoseok’s tongue presses against the inside of his cheek as he glares over your shoulder.

“Looks like we’re making some people mad, pet,” Jooheon laughs, his lips brushing your ear. “Are you with them?”

You lean your head back to respond, “Technically, yes. They’re my crew.”

“Well, then why does your crew look like they want to fight me for putting my hands on you?”

“Oh, they’re just protective,” You reply, “They’re in a relationship anyway, as you can see.” You wave a hand over to where Hoseok and Namjoon are murmuring to each other, almost seeming to be mirroring you and Jooheon.

The motion of your hand recaptures their attention and you swear the movement of Namjoon’s lips produces the harsh phrase of ‘I’m gonna destroy him’.

You’re almost certain that Hoseok and Namjoon are about to blow your entire deal; you cannot have that happen. And so, you turn to Jooheon and ask if you can make the trade now. Luckily, he agrees and leads you through the crowd towards a door beside the bar along the far wall.

Before you step over the threshold, you turn back. Hoseok and Namjoon are steps away from you, looking pissed. And then you let the door fall shut behind you.

The trade deal goes down fairly quickly. You tug the map out of your back pocket; Jooheon places a few stacks of currency on the table. You count it first, of course. This isn’t your first space rodeo.

Thankfully, Jooheon is true to his word and has the full amount ready for you. You then unfold the map you had drawn and begin to explain it in detail. “So the Alravi are planning to attack the Wyxian border here, here, and here.” You point out the spots you had starred. “My informant is certain they will strike at 0400 in two rotations.”

A scoff meets your ears. One of Jooheon’s partners stands. He’s handsome and tall with full lips and sleepy eyes. “How do we know that this information is even legit, Joohoney? She could be making this up.”

Jooheon shoots you a look and you step towards the skeptic. “Well, Chae Hyungwon,” You purr, “I can guarantee that this information is as real as the tattoo of your mother’s name on your left asscheek.”

Hyungwon turns fuschia as Jooheon cackles, “Is that true, Wonnie? Do you have that?”

“Yah!” Hyungwon glares at you, “It’s not a tattoo of my mom’s name, it’s a tattoo of my ex-girlfriend’s name! It’s not my fault they happened to share the same one.”

Jooheon wipes tears from his eyes as he hands you your money, “Please, pet, call me for a trade anytime. This has been the most fun I’ve had in months.”

“Will do,” You grin, sliding the money into your pocket. It barely fits, but you don’t care. It always feels good to secure a bag.

You wave at Jooheon and his crew as you exit the small room and re-enter the crowded club. No further than two steps out of the door, you are thrown over someone’s shoulder.

“Hey!” You pound on your assailant’s back, “Put me down!”

“Shut it, (y/n),” Comes the growled reply.

You still for a second in an attempt to process what the hell is happening. “Joon?!” You cry, “What the fuck! Where’s Hobi?”

“Here.” Hoseok’s voice comes from behind you and it’s devoid of any of its usual amusement.

You curse, trying to wiggle out of Namjoon’s hold.

Thwack. Your ass stings and you gasp. Heat floods through you as you realize that Namjoon just outright spanked you in the middle of a crowded club - in front of Hoseok.

Damn you for even thinking a deal at a sex club would go well. No one even paid the three of you any mind as Namjoon sauntered out of the club and into the night with you hitched over his shoulder and Hobi trailing behind you both.

You even hear the laughing comments of the two bouncers from earlier as they yell over to you...

“Have fun!”

“Come back to visit, pet!”

You flip them off, but sadly Hobi obscures the gesture from their sight.

“I can walk, you know,” You mumble, thoroughly put out by your situation.

“Yeah, we do know, (y/n),” Hoseok scoffs, “You walked away from Joon and I just fine a few minutes ago. What happened to having one of us in the room with you?”

“I can handle myself just fine,” You retort, turning your head to assess how much further you’re going to be left hanging. You’re probably almost at your ship if you had to guess. “Plus, it was good practice for when the two of you leave me.”

Namjoon halts in his tracks and slides you off his shoulder and onto the ground. You wobble a bit from the blood rush, but he steadies you.

“What did you just say?” Namjoon’s voice is deceptively soft, his hands grip your biceps firmly. You can feel Hoseok behind you, his breathing hard.

You snap. Honestly, you’re a bit shocked it took you this long when you’d been feeling like you might crumble for days.

Your eyes glare back at Namjoon as your lips curl into a sneer, “Yeah, I know you’re leaving me, just like I know about you and Hobi. So why don’t you drop the act like you actually care about me and fuck off.”

Namjoon’s eyes are wide as they stare down at you. Hoseok seems to have stopped breathing altogether and a slight whine sounds from him.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon says, “Bring her to her quarters while I set the course.” He steps around you and stalks towards your ship which is only a few paces away.

“Come on, lovely,” Hoseok grabs your hand but you just shrug him off. A flash of hurt crosses his beautiful face and you almost cave and hug him close. But you have to be strong - just like you always have.

You march forward, heading up the ramp and onto your ship. Hoseok closes and locks the door behind you; the ship lifts off immediately.

Laughing bitterly, you head towards your quarters with Hoseok in tow, “What’s the big rush here? Can’t wait to start your own life together without me?”

“(y/n), please. Let’s talk about this,” Hobi begs, for what you’re not sure. The quiet desperation you hear in his words almost drains the fight right out of you, but you’re in too deep to stop now.

“What’s there to talk about?” Your words sting with bitterness as you enter your room, “I know you two don’t love me, and I get it. Who would? You and Joon deserve a better life. I’ll be fine without you just like I was before you came into my life.”

Hoseok shoves a hand through his hair as he gazes sharply down at you, “Lovely, no. Don’t say such things.”

Angrily wiping away a traitorous tear, you sink onto your bed. Just when Hoseok looks like he’s about to say more, Namjoon storms in. He takes one look at you and Hoseok and sighs deeply. “What are we going to do with you, baby?”

“She thinks we don’t love her!” Hoseok cries.

Namjoon blinks and then approaches you, “Is that what you really think, (y/n)?” He bends down, his face level with yours from where you sit on your bed. Hoseok sits beside you, and you watch as his hand slowly inches towards yours.

You tug it out of reach. “I know you don’t love me, Joon,” You shrug, “And that’s okay. I’ve always been alone; it's what I know best.”

Namjoon shares a long look with Hoseok and then he turns back to face you, “Baby, how did you get these ideas in that pretty head of yours?”

Your anger boils back up, “I got them from you!”

You spring up, standing toe-to-toe with Namjoon, “If you really want to leave to be “free to share your love”, don’t let me hold you back. After all, I’m just a drunken mistake, aren’t I? Just a nasty little hiccup in your relationship. Just a painful memory that makes you cringe. Don’t you realize how much that hurts me? I fucking love you and you both can’t stand the sight of m—!”

Namjoon’s hand grips the back of your neck as his mouth slams onto yours. Your mind blanks as you gasp, his tongue sliding over yours. You kiss him back. Your hands wind up his chest, feeling his skin burning through the flimsy mesh of his shirt. You feel another pair of hands grip your hips and that jolts you enough to come to your senses.

“Wait, wait, wait,” You pull your mouth away from Namjoon’s, “You can’t just kiss me and touch me like I’m yours when I’m not.”

“But, lovely, you are,” Hoseok tugs you back into his body and places a light kiss on your neck, “You always have been.” His mouth feels hot as it sucks gently on your skin, undoubtedly leaving marks in its wake.

“I-I don’t understand,” You stammer, trying to wrap your head around everything that’s going on. “I thought you were leaving me. I thought you were ashamed of that night on Xyreus. I thought you didn’t want me when you so clearly want each other.”

“For someone so smart, you sure draw some dumb conclusions,” Namjoon mumbles, his hands cupping your face carefully. “Number one: the conversation you overheard was about how we agreed that we would never leave you.” Your breath hitches as you feel Hoseok’s hands slip around your body to toy with the hem of your crop top right under your breasts.

“Number two,” Namjoon continues, recapturing your gaze, “We are ashamed of that night on Xyreus. But what we’re ashamed of is how strongly we came onto you, how we were so sure we felt more for you than you felt for us. We couldn’t lose you. If we scared you off with how much we loved you - and still love you - we would never live with ourselves. And so we cut it off.”

“You love me?” You breathe out, “Both of you?”

“So much, baby,” Namjoon looks down at you like you’re the most cherished thing to him.

“So, so much,” Hoseok growls in your ear, nipping at it slightly. You shiver, your body pressing back into his. You feel his cock hard against your ass and you press back even further, craving some kind of friction. “Fuck, lovely,” His head falls to your shoulder as he grinds into you.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon’s tone is hard and full of warning. It sends a rush of heat straight to your core.

The other boy groans but pulls back from you just a bit. You frown at the loss.

Namjoon notices and rolls his eyes, “How did I forget that you’re just as insatiable as him?” Before you can even retort, he continues, “Number three: yes, Hoseok and I want each other; but, we also want you. We talk about it all the time. How your pussy tasted on my tongue. How you felt around Hobi’s cock. How it might feel to fuck you at the same time…

His eyes are dark, his pupils so dilated that they encompass his irises. “I think about that, too,” You bring a hand up to hold one of Joon’s as he still cradles your face. “I think about how it would feel to be between the two of you as you pound into me, using me for your pleasure.”

“She almost joined a scene tonight,” Hoseok blurts. Your eyes widen as Namjoon’s eyebrows raise.

“Is that so, baby?” Joon murmurs, one of his thumbs brushing over your lips. “What drew you in? Hoseok and I can give it to you in any way you want; you just have to ask.”

Your thighs squeeze together as your walls clench around nothing. Of course, Namjoon’s observant eyes miss nothing and he quirks a small smile.

“I liked how they pleased their mistress,” You gasp out, “How they touched each other to make her satisfied. I want to do that. Let me do that for you.”

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon groans, “You want to please me? Fine. Strip - both of you.”

Hoseok immediately sets on unbuckling his harness. Meanwhile, your hands shake too much to be able to unclasp your body chain.

“Leave it on,” Namjoon slips a finger under the chain between your breasts, “I’ve been dying to see you in this and nothing else.”

“But my shirt—!” Your protest is cut short as Joon grips the collar of your top and rips it straight off. “Namjoon!” You berate, shooting him a dirty look which he definitely doesn’t see since he’s staring at your half-naked body like it’s the sun in which he revolves around.

“So goddamn beautiful.” Just as you think he’s going to touch you, he backs off. “Hobi, take her pants off, and then I want to watch you make her come.”

Hoseok moves to stand in front of you. You stop breathing as you take in his bare body - his cock already hard. He sinks to his knees in front of you, hands winding their way up your calves, your thighs, your ass. Hobi slowly tugs down the small zipper on the side of your pants and then pulls them off you.

He lets out a moan as soon as he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear. How could you have in tight leather pants?

“You dirty girl,” Namjoon’s words reclaim your attention as you look up at him. He’s sitting in your desk chair, legs spread wide, making no move to hide his arousal. “Now keep your eyes on me when Hoseok fucks you with his tongue.”

You let out a moan both at Namjoon’s words and at the first brush of Hoseok’s tongue on your aching pussy.

“Gods, Joon,” Hoseok growls, “She’s so wet, so sweet.” His tongue flattens as it drags down the length of your folds before circling your clit.

You’re panting at this point, and when Hoseok lightly kisses your clit and sucks it into his mouth, your back arches. You grind your hips shamelessly down onto Hobi’s face, craving more with a desperation you haven’t felt before.

Your eyes never leave Namjoon’s as he speaks to you in a low voice, “Fuck yeah, baby. Ride his face. Does it feel good?”

“So good,” You moan, hands winding into Hoseok’s hair as he slides his tongue inside you.

“Do you think you deserve to come, (y/n)?” Namjoon questions, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he leans forward. “Even after the stunts you pulled tonight on Naroxu?”

“Y-yes,” You answer petulantly and then jolt as Hobi spanks your ass. Your walls clench automatically around Hoseok’s tongue and he moans, the vibrations make you squirm. The pleasure builds and builds inside you, coiling in the pit of your stomach and spreading across your body.

You murmur Hoseok’s name like a mantra as your fingers dig into his hair, holding him against your pussy.

“Stop.” Namjoon’s voice cuts through your impending bliss. Hoseok draws back and you whine at the loss of contact.

“Joon, please,” You beg, “I’m so close!”

“I want to feel you come around my cock, baby,” Namjoon walks over to you, “Can you do that for me?”

You nod furiously, and he smiles, his dimples peeking out at you. “Good girl.”

You watch as Namjoon strips, taking in the sight of the thickness of his thighs, the hardness of his cock.

He kisses you swiftly and then turns you around. “I want you on all fours, baby. Go on,” Namjoon squeezes you ass and then pushes you lightly onto the bed.

You shift onto all fours, all too aware of how much you’re on display for them. And you feel yourself getting even more turned on.

“Damn, Joon, look at that pretty little pussy,” Hoseok groans, “It’s all ours. She’s all ours.”

You feel a finger slide into you. “Babygirl,” Namjoon groans, “When I wreck you, I want you to suck Hobi off, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You pant, needing them both so bad.

Namjoon chuckles darkly as Hoseok gets into position in front of you. He barely settles before you lean down to taste him. Your tongue swirls around the tip and then you take him into your mouth.

You feel Namjoon’s finger slip out of you only to be replaced by the head of his cock. As he eases into you, you groan around Hoseok’s length, making him twitch.

Namjoon slowly begins moving in and out of you. “You feel so nice, baby,” He murmurs, gripping your hips, “So hot and tight around my cock.”

You clench around him and Namjoon moans, “Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna come too soon.” You clench again, because you’re a brat.

Thwack. Namjoon’s hand comes down hard on your ass and stays there, kneading the sting out slowly. His pace picks up. His cock slamming into you, his hips grinding into your ass with each thrust. Soon enough, you’re hurtling towards the edge once again. You release Hoseok from your mouth; and instead, you focus on moving one of your hands up and down his shaft as you lap at his tip.

You feel yourself gripping Joon tightly as you move your hips back to meet each of his thrusts. “You gonna come, babygirl?” Namjoon spanks you again as his other hand reaches around your body to rub your clit.

You come with a scream, your vocabulary erased to the point where you only know the names of your lovers. Namjoon continues to pound into you, carrying you through your orgasm.

But still, you’re not satisfied. “Hoseok,” You peer up at your sunshine, “I want you inside me, too.”

“Lovely,” Hoseok sighs, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” You nod emphatically, shaking your ass slightly.

Still inside you, Joon groans, “We’ve unleashed a monster, Hoseok. Go grab the lube from your room, yeah?”

“Why? I have some,” You point towards your bedside drawer. “It’s in there.”

Hoseok opens your drawer and curses, “Lovely, have you been fucking yourself with these toys?”

“No,” You retort, getting up from your bed and ignoring the noise of protest that Joon makes when he slips out of you. “I just stare at them for the aesthetic, Hobi.” You move him aside with your hips as you grab the lube from its spot.

Hoseok bites down on your neck. “Such a brat,” He mumbles into your skin as he kisses the mark he just made.

They don’t know the half of it... You grin, “Now, are you both going to fuck me? Or should I go back to take those bouncers up on their offer?”

No sooner had the words left your mouth than Namjoon grabs you, wrapping your legs around his waist and sinks his cock back inside you. “You think that’s funny, baby?” He growls into your ear, “You’re not even going to remember their existence when Hobi and I are done with you.”

You moan as you feel Hoseok’s finger teasing your ass, getting you ready to take him. The coolness of the lube sends a shiver down your spine as you eagerly anticipate being full of both your boys. “Please, Hoseok,” You whine, desperate for him. You grind your hips down onto Joon as best you can, and when you feel the first gentle touch of Hoseok’s cock against your hole, you throw your head back so it rests on his shoulder.

Hoseok sinks into you inch by inch, torturously slow. You’re panting now as you are stretched around the two of them.

“Gods-fucking-damn,” Hobi moans, his hips meeting your ass as he bottoms out inside you. “Joonie, I can feel you. Gods, you’re so tight, lovely.”

“Please,” You cry. You need them to move, to fill you up with their come.

And when they finally start moving in and out of you, you think you might be ascending into the astral plane. Namjoon’s mouth lowers to suck at your nipples. Hoseok’s hands roam around to flick and play with your clit. You’re so overwhelmed by the multiple sensations, your hands digging into Namjoon’s hair, holding him close to you.

“I’m gonna come,” Hoseok whines, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his hips stuttering as he chases his high.

“Me too. Come with us, baby,” Namjoon orders, his own voice straining as he shifts your legs up higher to get deeper inside of you.

Tears stream down your cheeks as his cock hits that spot inside you, and you’re coming. Your walls clench down around both of their cocks, milking them. Their cum fills you up with warmth as your pussy continues to pulse around them.

“Oh, lovely,” Hoseok sighs, his voice breaking as he thrusts shallowly in and out of you, riding out his orgasm.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” Namjoon places light kisses all over your chest, “You were made for us.”

You can’t even find words as they eventually pull out of you. Cum drips down your legs as Joon sets you down. You watch as Hoseok swipes at it with two fingers and then brings it up inside you. “Want you to be full of us always,” He says, placing a swift kiss to your lips.

“My heart already is,” You murmur, your lips twitching as Hoseok groans at your cheesiness.

“Baby,” Namjoon sighs, his arms wrapping around you, “That was terrible.”

“Please,” You roll your eyes, “You love it.”

“Yeah,” They reply, “I guess we do.”

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