#just for having the audacity to um. want to protect his home and city

[transvamp]

bg3 fans be normal about wyll and dont instantly discount his trauma challenge.

[mandoclan]

SWEET HOME KENTUCKY // Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x F!Reader

A/N: 14.8k. Yes, this is a spinoff of Sweet Home Alabama. I love that movie and I love Whiskey, so here you go! This is Jack Daniels x Female!Reader, but there’s no Y/N mention (unless I missed one).

Warnings: Character Death (mentioned in passing), Fluff, Angst, Divorce, Physical Abuse (a punch and a tight grip), Drinking, Drunkenness, (basically, if you’ve seen the movie, I’ve deviated but no more than normal).

She still dreamed about that night. The one where Jack took her out to the meadow behind his mama’s house and told her he wanted to marry her one day. To which she asked, “Why would you want to marry me for anyhow?” and he replied, “So I can kiss you anytime I want.” Her first kiss. Her first love. And they were only twelve at the time.

It didn’t come as a shock to her when Jack had asked her to marry him right out of high school. She was his first love, after all, and Jack swore he’d loved her since before he ever kissed her in that meadow. But then he never showed up to their reception because he was still drunk from his “bachelor party” the night before, he was always gone on missions and attempted to stop her from doing the same even when they worked for the same intelligence agency, and she eventually got shot in the head in a mission gone wrong, resulting in medical having to use Alpha-gel on her to bring her back.

That fatal injury had broken her and it had broken Jack too. He hadn’t been able to protect his own wife when she was his partner, and that killed him inside. After that, he became almost overbearing in his protectiveness and you’d eventually asked Champagne for a transfer after a whole year of turmoil in your home, explosive fights, and missions spent arguing. Champ loved you and Jack like his own kids and wanted you and your husband to fix this, but he did as you asked and you’d transferred to New York without telling Jack with the instructions that if he were to ask that Champ would tell him that you were safe and in another Statesman office.

That’s where you found yourself now, leading the New York office after the last agent had retired. You’d built up your reputation from scratch, leading missions and directing agents in the Northeast region of the United States. You kept in touch with Champ barely, but it had been seven years since you left Kentucky. You refused to even think about Jack unless you were sending another copy of the divorce papers or unless you had that damn dream about the meadow again.

You woke to the sound of your office door opening, and you lifted your head from the desk you occupied on the top floor.

“How come you let me sleep?” You grumbled to your assistant when he stepped into the room with a mug of coffee and a mission report from one of your top operatives.

“You needed it, boss, but it was only for a few minutes. Long enough for me to grab your coffee and fetch the report from downstairs.” He shrugged. “Y’know, that accent of yours gets a whole lot thicker when you’re dreaming.”

That boy had the audacity to smirk before you narrowed your eyes at him.

“And what exactly did I say?” You demanded.

“That I’m gonna get a raise when you realize how awesome I am.”

“We’ll see how good your coffee skills are, then.” You laughed, finally smiling at him through your exhaustion. In all reality, you liked this kid. He’d just been assigned to you and hadn’t earned his agent name yet, but you had a feeling he would do just fine and you already had plans to promote him come next quarter.

“Enjoy.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “I’ll see you tomorrow for that meeting in the conference room, alright?”

The kid agreed and you nodded at him before making your way to the elevators.

Your apartment on the lower levels of the Statesman New York building was modest, but well-lived in. You’d wanted to make it seem as much like home as possible. This time, however, your apartment wasn’t as empty as usual. The entire entryway and living room were filled with rose petals and rose bouquets in glasses of water.

“Goddamn that man,” you swore, stepping around the petals and heading to the panel you had on the wall where an orange light was blinking, signifying you had a waiting message. A button was pressed and suddenly your boyfriend’s voice filled the room.

“There’s a rose for every moment I thought of you last night. God, you must be exhausted. Sweetie, listen, I’ll see you tomorrow at our meeting. You’ll do great. I love you. Bye.” The message ended and you rolled your eyes before heading over to the largest of the bouquets.

You loved your boyfriend, Agent Rum, but this was too much. You hated huge, sappy gestures like this and he knew it, but you supposed it was a bit sweet. Very few other ladies you knew had such attentive men at their sides and Jack had never done anything remotely like this. A sharp breath was inhaled in an attempt to nix that thought from your mind before you headed to your front door and made your way to the ladies’ dorms. You left an embarrassingly big bouquet in front of each door and sighed in satisfaction once you’d swept up and removed most of the flowers in your apartment.

_________________________________________________________________

The meeting you’d scheduled came sooner than you’d liked, this being a collaboration between the Texas office and your own New York one. Rum walked in and kissed your forehead before the meeting could even start and you smiled at him. He could always brighten your day in an instant.

“Thanks for the flowers, babe.” You smiled at him, squeezing his hand in yours. He grinned, asking if you really liked them, and kissed you before sitting in his spot along with a few of your other agents. You both slipped on your glasses and started the meeting, knowing that you could talk properly once the collaboration was agreed upon.

It felt like hours went by before all positions were assigned and the intel was decided upon. You groaned once you were able to remove the glasses needed to see everyone in their remote locations, rubbing your temples. Hands were felt on your shoulders, and you knew it was Rum. Your glasses blinked a light on the side and you sighed, placing them back on your face.

The blinking was due to a message from Agent AppleJack, one of your own agents whom you’d taken a shine to and often spent weekends going about the city with. She was a nice girl from Maine who had an affinity for seafood you couldn’t quite get behind, but you’d consider her one of the closest friends you had in this city.

“Please tell me he has a flaw somehow.” She had typed out. You rolled your eyes before moving your eyes on the on-screen keyboard to type a reply.

“He asked me to go to California for Christmas.”

“He’s gonna ask you a lot more than that,” was her reply.

“You think so?” You were suddenly nervous. You’d only been dating Rum for six months and your divorce still wasn’t finalized.

“Sweetie, let’s go for a walk.” Rum took you from your conversation, and you nodded, slipping the glasses back off your face. “You’re so stressed, but you did so well today.”

You both made your way to the elevator, hand in hand, and eventually you meandered around Central Park just talking about your jobs and how your last missions went. You rarely went on them anymore, but you made sure that Rum had as many as he liked to keep him happy.

“So have you made a decision?” He finally asked, bright eyes boring into yours.

“About what?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“California.”

“Babe, California? That’s four months from now. We don’t even have to decide right now because we can literally jump on any jet we have and go within 6 hours if we want.”

“I was thinking maybe 200 guests, tops.” Rum continued in his words, but you stopped him with a pull to his hand.

“For Christmas?” You asked, still very confused. “Rum, are you on some kind of medication I don’t know about? Should I take you off of field duty for a bit? Did you get shot or something?”

All of a sudden, Rum was kneeling in front of you in the middle of a pathway in Central Park, and everything finally made sense. He held a diamond ring in his hand, the light hitting it just right and you gasped.

“Brandy, and I should probably know your real name by now, will you marry me?”

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not sure we can just go back to work and forget all about this. It’s only been six months.” You floundered, not even sure what to say, but he looked so hopeful and you really did love him.

“Brandy, I love you. I didn’t come by this decision lightly, and I really hope you’ll say yes. I want to build a life with you.” Rum stood, looking you right in your eyes. “So, I’ll ask again. Brandy, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice and felt the ring slip on your finger. It felt strange, another ring being there, but you were suddenly overcome with joy that your life was finally falling into place and you had a man who loved you and wanted to build a life with you. That’s all you could ask for. So you kissed him.

He grinned once you’d let yourselves out of his arms and released him from your kiss, hand reaching for his agency-issue watch.

“I’ve got to tell my family.” He gushed, “Wait until you see the look on the guy’s faces!”

“Babe, do you mind if we keep this to ourselves for a while? With this collaboration mission with Texas happening and everything else, I’d rather just keep this quiet for a bit.”

“You don’t want to tell your family?” Rum asked, a bit confused. You cursed yourself in your mind because he didn’t know. The only person close to being a family to you was Champ, and you hadn’t really talked to him in ages. Close to seven years, actually, which was downright awful. The guilt gnawed at you.

“Sunshine, I don’t really, um, have a family.” You stated calmly, fingers soothing the back of his hand as he pulled a face.

“But—” he started.

“I have a mentor who I looked up to as a father, but I haven’t seen him in about seven years. I think I should tell him in person.”

“Okay, whatever you want, sweetie. I’m happy as long as you’re happy.” Rum smiled, and you sighed in relief.

“He’ll love you, eventually.” You reassured him.

_________________________________________________________________

First thing the next morning, you caught a plane down to Kentucky and found yourself driving along the battered country roads to the little farmhouse where you and Jack used to live. Your watch buzzed with an incoming call, but you didn’t answer, knowing it was AppleJack. You’d fill her in later.

You parked the car next to the oak tree that still held your swing. A dog came rushing down the steps, howling at you, but you didn’t mind. It was your dog, after all. A tall man in heavy work boots busted out the door, hollering at the dog and telling you that “he don’t really bite.”

The man looked at you without really seeing you, seeing only a woman in worn out cowboy boots and aviators covering much of her face. Her hair was different, so she didn’t really expect him to recognize her.

“What can I do for you?” The man drawled in his southern accent. You shuddered, not forgetting the way that voice sounded when you were in bed together at all times of day or night.

“Well, for starters, you can get your stubborn ass down here and give me a divorce.” You snapped, pulling the sunglasses off your face. Jack’s eyes widened once your words registered. “C’mon, Jack, I mean it. The joke’s over. We need to finish this so I can get back to my office and take care of my job.”

“You’re shittin’ me, right?” Jack spluttered.

You finally got a good look at him. He had shaving cream on the side of his face as if he hadn’t got a chance to finish before your hound was howling, but he’d kept his mustache. You hated to say that he looked good, but it was the truth. The years had been kind to him.

“You know, I’ve never actually understood that expression, but no, I’m not “shitting” you.” You groaned, pulling a packet of papers out of the glovebox of your rented truck and spreading them out in the bed. “Look, it’s even got these idiot proof tabs so you can’t mess this up. I’ve got one copy for you and I both and one for my lawyer. So c’mon.”

When you looked up at him again, he didn’t say anything but he certainly looked like he had quite a few things to say.

“Well?” You demanded, irritated that he wasn’t coming down off the porch to sign the papers like you’d asked him to.

“You show up here after seven years without so much as a ‘Hey there, Jack, remember me? Your wife?’ Or a “Hi, honey, lookin’ good! How’s the family?’” He had the audacity to laugh, finally stepping closer to the edge of the porch.

“You expect me to tell you that you look good? Bless your heart. Sweetheart, we’ve been separated for seven years. I’ve had it with your bullshit.”

“They like that attitude wherever it is you’ve been?”

“Cut the crap, Jack. You knew where I was. Champ told me you accessed my records.” You spat, moving closer to the porch. “And don’t you dare tell me you’ve spent all this time missing me.”

“Oh I missed you alright, but I’ve been going to the range more and practicing so my aim’s gotten a lot better.” He drawled, leaning against the railing.

“Is that a threat, Jack? I’ve got a lawyer who charges me an arm and a leg. He charged me every time you sent these damn papers back without your signature on the dotted lines.” You lifted the papers as you spoke, but he scoffed at you.

“Well, I’m glad to see you got the message.” He smirked, going to say something else but you were both cut off by the dog howling again due to your hostile tones.

“Shut up, Coal!” You shouted, but Jack shouted a different name. “What happened to my dog, Jack?”

“He died. You weren’t here.” He grumbled, turning to go back into the ranch house. You stood there in shock for a second before realizing what he was doing.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m leaving!” He shouted, back turned to you, “You done it, so you should recognize the process. I need to finish shaving my damn beard.”

“Jack, can we please just keep this civilized? For God’s sake, we’re both adults and agents. Please just sign the papers so I can go back home.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. This was a mistake, you thought. He wasn’t going to sign the papers.

“What do you know from home?” Jack spit, finally turning around to face you, fire in his eyes. “Hell, I bet Champ doesn’t even know you’re here, does he? That old man took you under his wing and trained you himself and you have the audacity to avoid him like he’s some annoyance?”

“That’s my business, Jack, so you stay out of it.”

“Honey, he’s the only family you got.”

“Don’t you ‘honey’ me, honey!” If looks could kill, he’d have died about ten times by now with the murderous look you were giving him.

“Get your ass back in that truck, drive over and see him, and maybe we’ll talk after.” Jack demanded, pointing his finger at your vehicle. He was headed back inside before you could even think, and you started shouting at him as you followed him up the porch.

“Jack, you idiotic, stubborn, no good agent! The only reason you won’t sign these papers is because I want you to!” You yelled, hands on the doorknob of the windowed door he’d just slammed in your face and locked.

“Wrong!” He shouted, trying to pull the blinds on the door that he could never get figured out. “The only reason I ain’t signin’ is because you’ve turned into some hoity-toity, wine-drinking, Yankee bitch and I’d like nothing better right now than to piss you off!”

He finally maneuvered the blinds mostly over the door as you dashed to the back of the house, but he locked that too before you had a chance to get there in time. He could hear your frustrated shout from outside and he chuckled in disbelief before heading to his bathroom to get rid of the rest of his beard.

“Divorce, my ass.” He grumbled. Jack came out two minutes later, wiping his face with a towel to find you lounging on his bed. He froze.

“Hey genius,” you smirked, anger still evident in your eyes. “Next time you wanna lock somebody out, make sure they don’t know where the spare key is.” You waved the offending object in the air, and Whiskey made a mad dash for it but you closed your fist before he could snatch it.

“Knew I should’ve changed those damn locks. It’d be nice if my wife had told me where the spare key was!” He growled.

“I’m not your wife anymore, Jack.” You said softly, “I’m just the first girl that climbed in the back of your truck. But you’re right, I have changed. I don’t even know the girl you married anymore.”

“Then let me remind you.” Jack sneered before grabbing his cell phone and heading back into his bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Ten minutes later, Jack popped his head out of the bathroom.

“You bring any clothes with stripes on ‘em?” He asked, and you looked at him in confusion.

Red and blue lights flashed through the windows suddenly and your eyes widened.

“You called the sheriff?!” You gasped, jumping off the bed you used to share with the man looking at you with a satisfied grin on his face. “You know that old bastard hates me!”

“For good reason!” Jack shouted, still in the bathroom.

You made to run for the back door, but it opened to reveal a man you knew.

“Well, hell’s bells!” The man grinned, “If it isn’t our favorite Agent Brandy!”

“Tequila?”

“Hot damn girl, did we miss you! The agency wasn’t the same without you!” Tequila laughed, picking you up and giving you the biggest hug you’d gotten in a long time.

“I can’t believe you’re the sheriff!” You pulled on his badge for a second and knocked his cowboy hat off kilter to mess with him.

“Yep, I get to frisk pretty things like you all day and get paid for it.” Tequila put his hands around your waist and you slapped his chest.

“Aaron, can you try and be at least a little more professional? We got us a crime suspect here.” Jack emerged from the bathroom and you were struck with the fact that you hadn’t known Tequila’s real name until that moment. You quickly snapped back into it, though.

“Now, Brandy, you can’t just go breaking into your ex’s house whenever you feel like it, no matter how much they might deserve it.” Tequila—Aaron, you had to remember that—said.

“I didn’t break in. I used a key. My key, if you must know.” You snorted. Clearly, “Aaron” didn’t know that y’all were still married.

“Well, it still ain’t your house, Brandy. I’m gonna have to escort you out.” Aaron made to take your wrist in his hand, but you pulled away and grabbed the divorce papers you still had with you. You waved them as you heard Jack tell Aaron to use the cuffs on you.

“If you can get that asshole to sign these papers, I’ll let you run me out of town.” You smirked and Aaron laughed at your antics.

“Now that’s none of your concern, Aaron, you hear me?” Jack started, but Aaron was already taking the papers from you to look over.

“Well, what do you know. A bill of divorcement?” He asked. You nodded, and Aaron turned to Jack. “Hell, Jack, I thought you took care of this.”

“I thought I did!” Jack protested.

“Obviously not! Well, if y’all are still married, it’s her house too. This here ain’t nothin’ but a domestic dispute.” Aaron handed the papers back to you, and you smiled at him.

“He didn’t hit you, did he? If he took a swing at you, I’ll take him in right now.” Aaron told you quietly, out of earshot of your husband. You shook your head, because no, that man had never harmed you in ways that were physical. He’d only wounded your heart.

“No, he never hit me.” You replied quietly. Aaron nodded.

“Well, seems y’all got some catching up to do, so I’m gonna leave y’all to it. There’s nobody for miles, so Jack here can make ya scream all he likes.” Aaron winked at Jack, and you shouted in indignation. “G’night, lovebirds!”

“Aaron, I saved your life at least four times back in your Statesman years! You owe me!” Jack shouted, rushing to follow the sheriff’s retreating figure. He wanted you gone from his house in handcuffs if that’s what it took to get you to leave him alone about those divorce papers that he didn’t want to sign.

“Why can’t you just sign the damn papers, Jack?” You yelled after him, and he fixed you with the nastiest stare you’d seen in a long time.

“Listen, Jack. There’s nothing I can do. Your wife’s done nothing wrong, so I can’t just haul her in for nothing. Y’hear me?” Aaron blocked the doorway with his large frame as he lifted his hands in mock surrender.

“I suppose shoplifting steaks at the grocery store’s okay.” Jack spat.

“I took ‘em back and you know it!” You screeched back.

“You remember that vandalism out at the stockyard? Totally her!”

“Like I could tip a cow by myself at sixteen.” You growled, and Jack groaned. He couldn’t hit you with anything from your Statesman years either because that was all “classified information” you didn’t have to answer to. But Jack got an idea.

“Hey Aaron, isn’t there some outstanding warrant for whoever dumped your old man’s tractor in the fish pond?” Jack smirked triumphantly, making eye contact with your horrified expression. And then the cuffs were on your wrists and you were making your merry way to the county jail in the back of his cruiser.

“Now you know I didn’t have a choice, sweetheart.” Aaron smiled ruefully once y’all reached the station. He’d ended up hauling you off in cuffs just like Jack wanted and you were seething.

“This all could have been avoided if he’d just signed those damn papers.” You grumbled. “Can I make a call?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. You’ll get a couple minutes once I book ya.”

You rolled your eyes, taking the photos Aaron needed to do for “legal purposes.”

“You know that’s gonna get wiped once I make my call, right?” Aaron had the audacity to laugh, knowing exactly who you were going to call.

“I know. Tell big daddy I miss him.” Aaron pointed towards the phone.

It rang for a few seconds before a secretary's voice filtered on, saying the usual crap the Statesman company was supposed to yodel on about.

“Hi, I’ve got a word for you, lady.” You spit out, “Lemon drops suck.” You heard the operator say something about holding on for a moment and then a familiar voice was asking who you were.

“Champ! It’s Brandy,” you shouted, “Listen, I need a favor.”

“Name it, darling. You know I’d do anything for you and that wonderful husband of yours.” He drawled on for a moment and you smacked the phone receiver into the box.

“I need you to pick me up.”

“Well, where are ya? I’ll send a car or whatever it is you need.”

“That’s the thing. I’m in town. But, I need you to come get me from the jail.” You said after a moment. A groan came through the receiver and you winced.

“Alright, darling, I’ll be right there. I’m assuming it’s the usual one, then?”

“Yeah.”

Fifteen minutes later, the man himself was strolling through the door.

“I’m here for my girl, Tequila.” Champ rolled his eyes at you once he saw you waving. He had you out and your record erased within five minutes, and then you were back in his familiar old truck that smelled like whiskey and gunpowder. He accepted a muttered thank you while you drove off towards the Statesman offices.

“So what put you in jail this time?” Champ finally asked.

“Jack and his big, fat mouth.” You grumbled. “It was just a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“Kinda like that wedding I officiated, huh, darling?” You refused to make eye contact.

“I would hardly call that a wedding.”

“The boy was nervous.” Champ chuckled.

“He was still drunk from the night before!”

“Can you blame him?”

“Yes, I can! We’re supposed to be professional agents and he goes and gets piss drunk the night before we’re supposed to get married. I went to the reception by myself with his puke on the side of my dress while he slept it off at the hotel. And you’re still siding with him!”

“I ain’t siding with nobody, so get rid of that idea. Y’all two are my best agents and I need you both.” Champ stated firmly. “The boy’s changed is all.”

“Can we just not talk about Jack? I know he’s like the son you never had, but you also called me your daughter and all that, so can you just ask me what’s new with me or something instead?”

“Sure. Shoot.” Champ looked disinterested, and you had the feeling that he’d kept up with you better than you’d kept up with him. Curse the archives for always spilling your secrets before you ever could.

“I met somebody. And he’s quite a catch.” You started, and Champ raised an eyebrow beneath his larger than life cowboy hat. “And I’m happy. Really.”

The rest of the drive was held in silence, neither of you feeling like talking much. He pulled into the Statesman gates and led you inside, scanning his ID card on an empty apartment in the back of the warehouses where agents could sleep during the longer missions.

“Sleep well, sweetheart. We can talk about all this in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and you hauled your bag inside. “I’ll take you to get your truck in the morning, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.”

_________________________________________________________________

In the morning, you were on the phone with your lawyer, walking around the Statesman compound and attempting to avoid the various tour groups that were unaware of the real reason this distillery existed.

“How long does a contested divorce take?” You asked, exasperated that you had to do this now of all times because your no-good husband wouldn’t sign the divorce papers. “18 months? Mr. Collier, I don’t even have 18 days, really!”

The man told you that was how it had to be, you informed him that this arrangement wouldn’t work, and he was informing you of a different option when you heard someone wolf whistle at you, throwing out some jab.

“Ain’t seen the likes of you around this place much!” The man shouted from his horse.

“Mr. Collier, that’s just not going to work for me.” You groaned, trying to block out the man catcalling you from his horse. Clearly this was some junior agent. “Mr. Collier, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

“Listen here, bubba, why don’t you kiss my ass!” You shouted up at the guy, but screamed in happiness once you realized who it was. “Oh my god, Moonshine?!”

“Let’s go inside then, missy, because I don’t do that kind of thing out here in front of the guests.” Moonshine smirked at you, jumping down from his horse.

“I guess your mama raised you right, then.” You laughed, hugging him. You’d missed Moonshine, who’d been one of your first friends in the agency aside from Jack, of course. “I better back off of you before your little lady tries to come beat me up.”

Moonshine looked sheepish.

“There is a little lady, isn’t there?”

“I can hardly afford me and my unhealthy addiction to firearms and whiskey, let alone some high-maintenance babe.” Moonshine laughed.

“What about Cara what’s-her-name? From the class outside of ours? Y’all had real chemistry on some of the missions I supervised.”

“She transferred out to the Alaska branch, and uh, I wasn’t her type.” Moonshine scratched the back of his neck and you hummed, understanding the situation.

“That answers a few of my questions. Guess we all have our secrets, don’t we, Moonshine.” You grinned, your suspicions about him batting for the opposite team nearly confirmed.

“Yeah, we sure do.” Moonshine climbed back up on his horse, tipping his hat on the way. “I gotta get back to work now, missy, but are you gonna be in town for awhile? Me and a few of the guys are going down to our normal watering hole later tonight if you’re up for it.”

“I hope I won’t be here long. I have to go see Champ, but I think I’ll see you boys tonight.”

“Well, I better scram if you’re seeing the boss man.”

“Very funny. I’ll see you later, Moonshine.” You waved the man off and made your way inside, scanning your own ID card on the entry doors and taking the elevator up to Champ’s office.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t my favorite agent.” Champ drawled from his seat at the head of the conference table.

“Hey boss man, care to give me a ride to town so I can get my truck?” You asked, leaning up against the door jam and waving your keys. He laughed, standing up and grabbing his own keys from his desk.

“C’mon then, little lady. I did make you a promise. You can tell me all about why you’re here on the way over.”

_________________________________________________________________

Once you’d picked up your truck from the jail’s parking lot, you made your way to the bank. You hadn’t accounted for Jack taking as long as he was to sign the divorce papers, so you needed some cash for necessities.

Of course, the bank didn’t have an ATM. You cursed yourself for forgetting as you stepped inside. The bank guard’s eyes widened once he laid eyes on you, telling whoever it was in the teller’s booth that he was going to take a break outside. You winced once you remembered that this was the same man whose farm you and Jack and a few of your old friends had gone rolling pumpkins in year after year. He probably hated you.

You approached the teller, but didn’t recognize her. She clearly recognized you, though.

“Well, if it ain’t the queen of the New York Statesman office.” She grinned. You narrowed your eyes, attempting to figure out who she was when the lightbulb clicked.

“Jenny? Oh my god. I haven’t seen you since you and Tequila got hitched! You look amazing!”

“Thanks, sweetie! So do you. What can I do you for?”

“I need to make a withdrawal from my—“

“Joint account?” Jenny smiled like she knew something you didn’t, which knowing her, she probably did.

“My what?”

“Your joint account. With Jack? From what I hear, y’all are still married.”

“Why yes, yes we are.” You grinned, a plan already formulating in your mind.

_________________________________________________________________

It was after five when Jack got home, but you’d already got to work. You had on one of his favorite dresses that you’d found in a trunk somewhere, one of your homemade aprons, and a wide smile once he walked in the door.

“Hi, honey! Lookin’ good. How’s the family?” You grinned up at him, serving food onto two plates in the dining room.

“Cut the shit. Where’s my stuff?” Jack growled, chucking his hat on the couch along with his whip and lasso.

You smiled where he couldn’t see it, glad to see he’d noticed what you’d done to the place. There were new appliances in the kitchen, a new couch and loveseat, a flatscreen tv, a new rug, and Jack assumed you’d also done something to the bedroom. None of the things he’d had laying around since you left were where he could see it, and the sight agitated him.

“Now what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t pick up after my husband? Dinner’s ready in five.”

“The kind that don’t live here.” Jack groaned, hands raking over his face. “Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time—where is the house key?”

“I had the sweetest talk today with Tequila’s daddy.” You started as you ignored him.

“Nice to see you got your accent back.”

“Oh, I stumbled on a few things today.” You said, noticing Jack had gone to the kitchen, likely in search of a beer.

“Holy shit!” He shouted, and you stifled your laughter. “What happened to the stove?! And where are them little magnets I got from my travels, huh?” He opened the fridge and groaned.

“What the hell is this? Chick food?” He gestured to the fridge that you’d restocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, and new groceries that weren’t stale takeout containers.

“Light beer. Less calories, honey.” You smiled brightly, missing Jack’s murderous expression. He grabbed a can anyway and popped the top off.

“I tried to pick out a new bed today, but the mattress store only had old models. I’ll have to order something from New York.”

“Whatever floats your boat, honey.” Jack muttered, taking a deep swig of the beer you’d bought. He’d have to find his stash of whiskey and hope you hadn’t gotten rid of it.

“Oh, but darlin’, I thought you said we should think of it as our money.” You saw him freeze where he stood, and continued your crusade. “Just a guess, but I’m thinking the words ‘joint checking’ are flashing through your mind right now.”

“How much did you take?” He whirled around, effectively forcing you into the kitchen.

“All of it.” You replied simply, enjoying his facial expression.

“Son of a bitch!” He cursed, chucking the now empty beer can into the trash can and rubbing his face with his hands.

“You wanted a wife, you got a wife, honey,” you spat, “and what were you doing with all that cash? Why don’t you invest it? We work for a perfectly good company with shares for sale, don’t you know anything?”

“I know if you don’t get out of my house right now—”

“Sign the papers and I’ll give it all back.”

“Fine—fine!” He shouted, “gimme the pen.”

You rummaged in your packet for the pen and laid out the papers on the dinner table. You made to give him the pen, but thought better of it.

“Hold on. What are you doing with all that cash saved up? And since when did you tell Champ not to put you on anymore active missions? You aren’t doing anything illegal, are you Jack?”

“So what if I am? I don’t ask you about your boyfriend, you keep your nose out of my life.” He spat out, not making eye contact with you. You deflated.

“Who told you?” You asked quietly.

“Honey, just ‘cause I talk slow don’t mean I’m stupid.” He said in a much quieter tone. He almost sounded hurt.

“Look, Jack—” you trailed off.

“For god’s sake, nobody finds their soulmate at twelve years old.” He mumbled.

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jack almost smiled. Your eye caught something on the mantle and you looked up to see a horseshoe and a photo of your parent’s old farm.

“I can’t believe you kept that all these years,” you murmured, eyes trailing over the familiar old farm. It had burned down four years after that photo was taken, taking your parents’ lives with it. Jack looked at you before looking at the clock on the wall.

“Oh, hey sweetie, you know what? I just remembered I got myself a hot date.” Jack grinned maliciously, unbuttoning his collared shirt as he spoke. Your eyes moved from the picture to the skin being revealed and suddenly were at a loss for words. “You don’t mind if I have my lawyer take a look at these, do you?” He tossed the papers back on the table and left the room.

“What?!” You gasped.

“Hell, I’m just a dumb intelligence agent with no regards for the law. There’s words in there I don’t even know. You might be takin’ me to the cleaners for all I know.”

“The cleaners? You? You ain’t been there since our wedding, if you even washed your suit for that,” you scoffed. “Can’t you just sign the damn papers?”

“Nah,” he grinned from the doorway to his bedroom, “but thanks for stoppin’ bye. It’s been a real treat.” And then the door was slammed and you screamed into a newly-purchased throw pillow.

You’d realized after about ten minutes that Jack wasn’t coming back into the living room. In fact, his dramatic ass had jumped out the window and you heard his truck starting up outside.

Tequila had made an offer, though, and you planned to take up the social obligation. Besides, if Jack was as predictable as he’d always been, his “hot date” was probably at his mama’s bar where everyone in that little town went to unwind.

Your phone rang once you were outside the noisy bar near Jack’s truck, and you answered at once knowing it was your fiancé.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You smiled into the phone and Rum’s happy voice spilled out.

“Are you sitting down?” Rum asked.

“Why? Bad news? Did the mission blow up or something?” You panicked. You knew putting this in Rum’s hands would only backfire if something happened.

“No, no! Nothing like that. I was just going to tell you that I read the mission reports and everything went exactly to plan just like you said it would. You might be up for another promotion, babe.” Rum reassured you.

“Oh my god, really? Oh, I needed that almost as much as I need to see you.”

“What is that noise?” Rum finally asked, and you assumed he could hear the loud music and shouts coming from inside the bar.

“The sound of my past.” You grimaced.

“Have fun. I love you.” Your fiancé finished, and you returned the sentiments before hanging up the phone and waltzing into the bar. You were immediately greeted by a screech and an older woman who was still spry was pulling you into a tight hug and yelling over the music.

“Batten down the hatches, boys! Trouble done just walked back into my life disguised as my favorite daughter-in-law!” Helen grinned at you. “Honey, gimme a hug, it’s been too long.”

You laughed while you hugged her and stepped back to show her your ring.

“Soon to be ex-daughter-in-law.” You stated proudly.

“Ooh, who’s the lucky guy?” She asked, inspecting the diamond on your finger.

“His name’s Blake and he works with me.” You winked, and she nodded in understanding. She knew about a little of the work you and her son did, but she mostly stayed out of it, claiming that the stress would bring her to an early grave.

“Well, he’s got my vote if he picked out a ring as pretty as that. It’s good to see you, baby girl.” Helen gave you a pat on the shoulder and told her bartender to give you whatever you wanted. You asked for a whiskey on the rocks and nearly laughed at the irony of the situation.

Once your drink was in hand, you scanned the room, looking for your husband. You spotted him in the corner with some young blonde thing and rolled your eyes. A quick march found you standing right behind Jack and you flipped the edge of his cowboy hat.

“Mind if I join you?” You asked sweetly, leaning up against the pool table beside him.

“Actually we do.” Jack said, raising an eyebrow. He was challenging you, but you ignored him in order to set your sights on his date.

“You must be Jack’s hot date.” You grinned at the girl and she put a hand out to shake yours.

“I’m Carly.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Jack’s snotty, Yankee-bitch wife whom he refuses to divorce even though I’m engaged to another man.” You shook her hand, and the girl gasped once she saw your ring.

“Hot dog, Jack, look at the size of that thing!” She gushed. You nearly rolled your eyes at how dumb she was acting just in an attempt to impress your husband.

“Honey? Why don’t you get us a couple of drinks, yeah?” Jack turned to Carly and handed her a few bills. The girl smiled, popped her gum, and proceeded to ask you what you were having. You rolled your eyes then. “Not ‘me and her’ us, ‘you and I’ us.”

The girl agreed and scurried off, and then you turned to Jack.

“Why do you make me be mean to you? Is that what you want? To be humiliated in front of all your friends?” You snapped, frustrated that he was taking this so lightly. He shook his head and downed the rest of his own glass of whiskey.

“C’mon, Brandy, they were your friends too.” You heard Jack mutter, nodding towards a few agents who’d just walked over with their drinks. You recognized a few guys who’d been in the class behind you along with Moonshine. He nodded at you and ordered a beer before heading over to say hello.

“Alright, Brandy, you sit down while I teach your husband here how to lose at pool.” Moonshine grinned, pulling a bar stool over to you.

“Now Moonshine, I’m not really a watch and see kinda girl, am I Jack?” His expression was priceless as he took up the challenge.

At least six drinks later, you were definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol and you landed somewhere near Moonshine as he lined up his shot.

“Come on, now, Moony, you got it. Don’t blow this one, okay baby?” You drunkenly giggled and Moonshine laughed at your inebriated state.

“You can take the girl out of the honky-tonk, but you can’t take the honky-tonk out of the girl.” He missed the shot, but you didn’t care anymore, more focused on the conversation Jack was not-so-quietly having with Cognac? Coors? You couldn’t remember his codename, but it didn’t matter. Jack was talking about you.

“So, Whiskey, are you gonna divorce this girl or what?” The agent asked. Jack shook his head.

“She’s waited seven years. A couple more days won’t kill her. Unfortunately.”

“Like it’s gonna make a difference.” You snorted, nearly falling into his arms but stabilizing yourself at the last second.

“You never know,” the agent started, “you might be interested to know that Whiskey here has been—”

“Hey, hey, Cognac, let her think what she wants. She made her mind up about me a long time ago.” Jack cut him off, making you wonder just what it was that he didn’t want you knowing about.

You quickly forgot that thought, though, when Moonshine started yelling and telling Cognac he owed him fifty dollars. Cognac groaned, forking over the cash.

You didn’t really know what happened next, but you got into a shouting match with one of the other agents and eventually asked Helen for another round of drinks, but she quickly cut you off. Then you were shouting again as Jack dragged you out of the bar by your arm, yelling at you, saying that you couldn’t just insult everyone in the bar because you’d made it out of Kentucky but they were happy where they were.

“What makes you think you can treat them like somethin’ you stepped in, huh?!” Jack demanded as he put you right up next to his truck.

“You asked for it!” You yelled in his face, trying to get your keys out of your pocket. Jack quickly grabbed them.

“You show up here, you steal my money, you rearrange my house, and then you insult our friends, actin’ like you’re better than them.” Jack spat. He was angry and you knew it, but you couldn’t seem to stop.

“I am better than them! And you stole my keys!” You whined, wanting to be anywhere but here with your husband who was telling you that you were wrong. He was right, but you wouldn’t admit it.

“That’s all that matters to you, huh?” He asked in disbelief.

You tried to say his name, but he cut you off.

“God, ever since you left, this has been a nightmare. The money, the fancy office, the city, you’re pathetic!” He raked a hand through his mustache and you got lost in the action right before spitting out a comeback.

“Oh, like you’re goin’ places!” You groaned, a splitting headache appearing out of nowhere. “I certainly am once I get my keys back.”

“No, you don’t. No. You want to kill yourself driving, you do it somewhere else. But not here, not on my watch.” Jack said, putting your keys into his own pocket.

“At least I’m doing something with my life. So what if you and I aren’t partners anymore, you can still go on missions. You don’t have to worry about me anymore!”

“Get in the truck, Y/N.” Jack opened the door and guided you inside, defeated. His date was waiting by the door and you noticed them having a quiet conversation before he handed her your keys and made his way back to the truck.

You fell asleep before Jack even got on the two lane highway that led to the Statesman offices where he knew you’d been staying. Champ didn’t say anything when Whiskey carried you inside your temporary apartment, snoring away, but he wished things would work out between the two of you. His hopes were dashed as soon as Whiskey asked for a pen to sign the papers you’d brought with you.

When you woke up, still hungover from the night before, the divorce papers were stuck on top of the pillow beside you. You wished you could say you were happy about it, but you couldn’t deny that a pit was in the bottom of your stomach.

Once you rolled out of bed and had some coffee, the papers were sealed into an envelope and you drove to the post office to mail it out. You’d talk to Jack afterwards and apologize for your behavior.

When you got to the familiar farmhouse, you found Jack’s dog Midnight lounging at the base of the porch. You scratched his ears, and he whined happily at the attention he was receiving. The dog got up and raced up to Jack when he came out of the house with a crate.

“What’s she doing here, huh, boy?” He asked the dog before turning to face you, “Thought you’d have high-tailed it out of here by now.”

“I put the money back in your account.” You said quietly, searching his face for any emotion whatsoever.

“Thanks. Saves me from bouncing a lot of checks.” He smiled at you, a genuine smile, and it caught you off guard. “I like what you did, though, to the house. Should help it sell quicker.”

“You’re moving?” You were surprised. This was the house you and Jack had gotten and fixed up together in the early stages of your marriage and it held a lot of good memories along with quite a few bad ones.

“Well, I’ve been spending a lot of my time a bit south of the distillery, so . . .” he shrugged.

“Oh.”

“Look, hon, I signed your papers.” Jack sighed, finally hauling the crate into the back of his truck.

“Jack, I never meant to hurt you, or anybody else for that matter. And I just came out here to say thank you.” You finally said.

“You might want to move your toes.” Jack nodded towards where your feet were in reference to his truck tires. “Wouldn’t wanna run ‘em over since you need them for field work.”

“You can’t just leave!”

“Sure I can.” He chuckled, hopping into the cab. “You want to come?”

“Where you goin’?”

“I want to show you something.” Jack said solemnly, and you wished you could go. Something made you stop, though.

“I can’t.” You finally answered, defeated.

“Can’t or won’t?” Jack asked you, already knowing the answer but asking anyway.

“Both.”

“The girl I knew used to be fearless.” Jack leaned against the steering wheel to get a good look at you. You looked so much like the woman he’d once known so intimately, and yet so different. A lot had scarred you both and he recognized that.

“The girl you knew didn’t have a life.” You smiled weakly, fighting back tears.

“Well, I guess you better get back to living it then. C’mon, Midnight.” Jack got his dog in the cab with him and drove off, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

_________________________________________________________________

You didn’t know what possessed you to stay in town now that the papers had been signed and mailed out, but you found yourself in the town square that evening for the weekly square dance night.

“Hello.” You murmured sheepishly once you’d spotted Tequila and his wife, Jenny, and Moonshine, and a few of the agents from last night at the bar. “I just wanted to apologize to y’all. Last night was so uncalled for, and I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

“Brandy, forget it.” Tequila told you, a smile gracing his face. “You know we don’t stay mad for long.” The group nodded, and you smiled in relief.

Jenny pulled you to the side and handed you a glass of sweet tea.

“You know, he went up there.” She said, sort of secretively.

“Who?” You were confused about what she was talking about. But then she looked at you oddly and you suddenly knew. “Jack? When?”

“About a year after you left. He doesn’t know I know, but Aaron “big mouth” Tequila over there can’t keep a secret to save his life nowadays.”

“Jack was in New York?” You asked, completely surprised. You’d never seen him. He’d certainly never come to see you and say hello. Jenny nodded.

“He told Tequila he’d never seen anything like it. He realized straight off that he’d need more than an apology to win you back. He needed to conquer the world first. He’s been tryin’ ever since.” Jenny told you, downing her own tea.

“That’s why he kept sending the papers back.” You murmured, and Jenny nodded at you again.

“It’s funny how things don’t work out.” She sighed.

“It’s funny how they do.” You smiled warmly at her, knowing she was happy with her life and how it was turning out.

“Hey, look who I found wandering around the edge of the party.” Moonshine cheered, shoving Jack in the center of the group you were with. He had the nerve to look a bit sheepish, knowing you were there, but you were the one who blushed. After that, it was a whirlwind of everyone catching up on the times and you found yourself smiling at Jack.

The band finally started playing a slow song, and Tequila got up to ask you to dance, leaving his wife to drag Jack into the square. The both of you danced for awhile before Tequila stole his wife back, which left you and Jack standing face to face. Jack held out a hand to you to offer a dance, but you hesitated.

“Maybe we could just talk?” You asked him quietly. He shook his head and walked off, a sigh escaping your lips once you realized you were alone.

The night wore on with you on the sidelines, drinking sweet tea, and finally you made your way down the street towards your truck. Something stopped you, though, and you made your way into the coon dog cemetery on the edge of town. Maybe Coal was in there. You didn’t realize Jack had been watching you and finally ended up following you, and maybe you wouldn’t have been so honest in your talk with your old dog if you’d known.

You knelt beside the dog’s grave, his collar and your old license plate stuck to the stone placed above him.

“Hey there, buddy. Sorry it took me so long. I would’ve come sooner if I’d known you were sick.” You sniffed, fingers running along the etching of his name in the stone. “Actually, that’s probably not true. I’ve been pretty selfish lately. Dogs don’t know anything about that, do they, though?”

“You were always a big old pillow after missions. Like when everything went pear-shaped after I got shot, you never left my side. And then I just left you. Oh gosh. I bet you sat there on that big old porch, wondering what you done wrong.” You sobbed, wiping the tears away.

“I told him it was my fault.” Jack’s voice broke you out of your concentration and you whipped around to see him kneeling behind you.

“Quit bein’ so nice.” You sniffed, a small smile breaking through your tears. Jack offered you a hand to help you up and you accepted it. He led you to a bench right near Coal’s grave and kept holding your hand.

“It’s the truth.” Jack stated.

“How come everything has to be so complicated,” you asked tearfully. Jack smiled softly at you.

“What?” He asked finally.

“Truth, life, this,” you gestured between the two of you and towards the hand he was still holding in his grip. Jack didn’t answer that, not that you expected him to.

“He was one hell of a good dog, wasn’t he? You looked like you were having fun out there tonight before I got there and ruined it.” Jack mumbled. You brushed a thumb over your intertwined hands softly.

“I’m happy in New York, Jack.” You laughed wetly, “But then I come down here and this fits too.”

“Since when does it have to be one or the other, darlin’? You can have roots and wings, you know.” Jack told you. You nodded.

“Maybe I could just fly south for the winter.” You joked miserably.

Jack finally pointed out towards the woods and nudged your shoulder, “Look.”

“What?” You asked.

“There, see ‘em?” You followed his pointing finger until you realized that he was pointing at fireflies illuminating sections of the woods with their blinking behinds.

“Only you,” you laughed fondly, looking up at him. You couldn’t deny it, Jack was still just as handsome as the day you married him even if the years had gone by.

“You know, I still go out there sometimes. To the meadow, I mean. I hear the crickets and I go and sit in the field and stare up at the stars like we used to. It’s like a religion.” Jack revealed, turning to look down at you to gauge your response.

“I had a dream about it the other night, our first kiss when we were twelve. Remember that?”

“You ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten shot and died on that mission?” Jack asked bluntly. You were surprised and whispered his name.

“Just, let me get this out before I can’t.” Jack started, “I thought us working together on missions would be an adventure. I loved seeing you be this beautiful badass and I loved being the one who got to love you. And it took me awhile to realize that being tied down to me would be your only adventure.”

“I guess that thug knew what he was doing then, aiming at me. I was so ashamed, Jack, ‘cause I felt so relieved once I woke up and remembered everything. And all of a sudden, I just . . . Needed a different life. Y’know? I had to get away.” You were almost frantic in your story, the painful memories resurfacing of how you just ran away from your husband with no explanation. Gosh, the number you did on him.

“You done real well for yourself. I’m proud of you, sugar.” Jack told you sincerely, fingers brushing your hair away from your wet cheeks. “I’m just sorry I never danced with you at our weddin’. I’m sure this next one’s gonna go better for ya.”

You looked up and suddenly your lips were on his and it felt like you were breathing real air for the first time since you left his home and abandoned him. It felt good, his lips brushing yours in just the right ways, but you couldn’t do this.

“Jack, I can’t do this.” You whimpered through your tears. He nodded.

“I know. Go home, Brandy.”

And just like he’d appeared, Jack disappeared in the dark, leaving you alone with your conflicted emotions.

_________________________________________________________________

The next morning found Jack entering the Statesman offices as a man on a mission. But he found an unfamiliar man with flowers in hand, pacing in the lobby.

“Y’alright there?” He asked. The man whipped his head up and sighed.

“I’m here to surprise my fiancée. The secretary won’t let me in because I don’t have a Kentucky Statesman badge, only a New York one.”

Jack quickly realized the situation, knowing immediately that the man was there to see you without needing to be introduced. He also knew that you were probably in Champ’s office, talking smack about missions like you used to do.

“Well, I’m headed upstairs to see a friend of mine, but you’re welcome to join.” Jack motioned to the elevator, and your fiancé quickly nodded and followed him inside the cab. Jack rolled his eyes at the guy’s eagerness.

“So, fiancée huh? Which one of our lucky agents is it?” Jack drawled, knowing full well who this man meant.

“Agent Brandy.” The man answered, “and you are?”

“I’m Agent Whiskey. Who might you be?” Jack smirked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Agent Rum.” Rum laughed sheepishly. He was quite a bit smaller than Jack and had to look upwards to make eye contact.

“Ah, so you’re the man Brandy was talking about.” Jack couldn’t help but meddle a little in his ex-wife’s affairs.

“You know Brandy?” Rum asked, surprised.

“Course I know her. I know all about her.” Jack grinned down at the man, “I know her name, her whole life story, everything. She was my partner.”

“She never mentioned you.” Rum stammered. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same girl?”

Jack described you, and Rum nodded, but that description would match a few agents and Rum wasn’t sure Jack really knew who you were. Joke’s on him.

Moonshine got in the elevator and froze once he saw Jack with your fiancé. He’d looked Rum up as soon as you’d mentioned him, and the look Jack had on his face was downright scary to someone who knew him. It was like a lion playing with its prey.

“Uh, uh, hey Whiskey.” Moonshine stuttered.

“Morning,” Jack smiled. “Brandy here?”

Moonshine nodded.

“Yeah, yeah she’s here. She’s with big daddy.”

“Wonderful. I’m just escorting her fiancé here up to meet him.” Jack nodded towards Rum who waved a hand. Jack couldn’t figure out how this man got to be an agent, all timid and shy next to Southern guys. He seemed like a schmuck.

“Oh, that’s great.” Moonshine nodded emphatically.

“I’m sorry, you are?” Rum asked, in reference to Moonshine.

“Name’s Moonshine. I’m Brandy’s, uh—” her turned to look at Jack to figure out what to say.

“Her other partner.” Jack finished. Rum smiled at the two.

“Wow! Two partners while she was here. That’s something.”

Jack rolled his eyes behind the man’s back.

“So what do you like about our Brandy?” Jack finally asked him, directing the both of them to exit the elevator. Champ’s office was just down the way, but Jack wasn’t ready to leave this man with you yet.

Rum spouted off a lot of things that Jack knew you weren’t like whenever y’all were married and he quickly realized that the woman you were with this new guy wasn’t anything like the woman he married. The woman he’d seen in the last few days. This was a woman who had completely changed herself to fit New York, and that just made Jack’s stomach churn.

Finally, he pulled Rum over to Champ’s door and he threw open the doors. You were sat inside, alone, staring at a few photos on the wall before you looked up and made eye contact with your ex-husband. You stood quickly, walking over to the two men standing before you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking at Jack.

“Well, I came to deliver your fiancé.” Jack stared at you real hard.

“I, uh, think she was talking to me.” Rum cut in, handing you the bouquet of flowers he’d been holding.

“Jack . . .” You trailed off.

“Must be exhaustin’.” Jack started.

“What?” you asked softly. Rum echoed the question beside you, finally realizing that you and Jack were talking to each other in a way that wasn’t normal to him.

“Livin’ a lie.” Jack finished, hand shoving his hat further on his head. You shook.

“What’s he talking about?” Rum asked you, and you looked back at Jack, pleading for him to be kind.

“You and I are in love with two different people.” Jack said with a shake of his head as he left the room.

“Who is he really? He said he was your partner.” Rum asked you, staring after Jack’s retreating figure.

“He’s my husband.” You answered.

“Your what?” Rum was dumbfounded.

“I mean my ex-husband.” You gasped, correcting yourself.

“You married your partner?!” Rum was running his hands through his hair, trying to wrap his mind around the situation and realizing just how little he knew about you. Had you up and married another man while you were down here? Were you married before? You interrupted his thoughts with a quiet answer.

“No, I came down here to finalize my divorce.” You sighed.

“Hey darlin’,” Champ burst into the room, “just saw your precious hubby and took his resignation.” He froze once he saw who was with you. “Oh! You must be my baby girl’s new someone!”

You groaned internally.

Rum threw up his hands and made some new noise you’d never heard before then promptly left the room. You scurried after him, trying to get his attention.

“Blake! Wait!”

“I just—” Andrew started as he pressed the button on the outside of the elevator.

“Let me try and explain, you don’t understand!” You tried to wedge your way between him and the door, but he easily slid past you. You slammed your arm against the side of the sliding doors to keep them from closing. “This isn’t who I am anymore!”

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what else you’ve lied about, but I do know one thing. There’s a helicopter parked outside in the field, and I am on it.” Rum’s face was stony as the doors closed.

You stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, trying to grasp the situation. A sigh escaped your lips before you made your way back to Champ’s office to slump down in a chair.

Champ was sitting at his desk, Statesman glasses perched on his nose and a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He looked up right as you made eye contact and gave you his signature “I told you so” look. You groaned.

“I know you’re thinkin’ I spoiled things real good this time.” You grumbled, chucking your hat on the table.

“Now, sweetheart, don’t go accusin’ me of thinking. I ain’t done anything of the sort.” Champ snorted. “Anyway, I don’t think you spoiled what you think you did. You got a good head on your shoulders kid, and I love you.”

You talked for awhile, catching up on life and missions and things you hadn’t spoken of in years when a knock sounded on the open door of Champ’s office. Champ nodded whoever it was inside, but you didn’t even look up until Champ looked at you with a knowing smile.

“Hey, you two. Look who I found wandering around by the weapons labs.” Moonshine nudged someone forward and you finally looked up. Agent Rum, your fiancé, was in front of you with the sorriest look you’d ever seen on his face.

“I thought you’d be halfway to New York by now.” You said slowly, not sure why he was still here. Your little interlude an hour before sounded like a breakup if you’d ever heard one. You stood up and moved to stand beside Champ, knowing he’d back you up if needed.

“So did I.” Rum smiled sheepishly, nodding toward Champ.

“Oh, this is Agent Champagne, but we call him Champ. He’s basically been my daddy since I started here.” Champ reached up squeezed your hand in reassurance and you moved closer to Rum. “And this is Moonshine. He’s been my best friend for a long time, well, as long as I’ve been good to him. He’s always been a better man. This is where I started, where I grew up, and my home.”

“Well,” Rum started, “it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Agent Rum, Brandy’s fiancé. That is, if she’ll still have me.” You looked at him in surprise. “ Look, I don’t really care what just happened back there. So you have a past. I mean, who doesn’t? We’re all trying to escape something in this life. What I need to know is if there is a place for me in your future.”

“Good Lord, he’s saying all sorts of sweet things.” Moonshine muttered and you laughed at him.

“Well?” Rum asked. You nodded with a small smile.

“Crap, guess I need to plan my vacation days to go to New York then.” Champ grumbled at his desk.

“What vacation days, old man?” You sassed Champ. You turned back to Rum, “Babe, what if we had the wedding here? I have so much history here, I’d like to end it all here and start fresh with you.”

Rum smiled and agreed and Champ started hollering about how he couldn’t believe you were going to do this to him again, how he’d have to officiate yet another wedding, and how many times does his only daughter get married? Apparently the answer was twice.

_________________________________________________________________

A month went by before you knew it, full of missions and planning and setting up temporary groups while you’d be on your honeymoon. In between all you had to do in the Statesman offices, you were also wedding planning. Luckily, you had Champ and his wife to help with all that along with AppleJack and your assistant.

Mr. Collier, your lawyer, had been calling nearly every day, but you’d assured him that you had everything handled and that he could clear the divorce without you. You’d been calling Jack a lot too. You wanted to talk to him about what Champ meant when he said Jack had retired, and why no one seemed to want to talk about what he was doing. But he never answered his cell and your old home phone seemed to be disconnected.

It still didn’t feel real that you’d be getting married on Saturday afternoon as you stepped off your Statesman jet at the airfield in Kentucky on Thursday with Agent AppleJack and your assistant—now newly minted Agent Smirnoff.

“You guys remember that mark from a year ago on that mission I was on for about three months, right? The Spanish one?” AppleJack was telling you. You nodded, remembering who she was talking about. He’d been rugged and good looking, and you’d told her as much when you handed her the mission. “Well, he proposed to me, and I think I loved him despite his obvious attraction to black market trading.”

“Then why didn’t you say yes?” Smirnoff asked.

“Because I hesitated long enough to realize my head and my heart were saying two different things. And he was on the other side of the legal fence.” AppleJack scoffed.

You guided the two of them towards your waiting truck and chucked your bags in the bed of it. Theirs followed as they argued.

“Well, it’s a big decision.” You added in.

“It’s supposed to be the easiest one you ever make.” Smirnoff said. You’d always thought he was a romantic, and now you were sure of it.

“Hey, y’all, I want to stop somewhere before we head to the office. Okay?” You turned to look at the two of them, and they shrugged before agreeing. It wasn’t like y’all had much to do today anyway. Champ had already assured you that the cellar was decorated and pretty for you and Rum to tie the knot, and that he’d already arranged everything for your honeymoon too.

You drove the forty-five minutes it took to get to your parents’ old farmhouse where you used to live before it had burned down, taking both your parents with it when you were nineteen. You hadn’t been there since a few days after the fire when you’d set up headstones for your parents on the property, but you wanted to tell them what was going on.

The driveway was long, but you were surprised to see how well kept it was. Then the house came into view along with Jack’s pickup truck and a familiar black dog lounging on the steps. You slammed on the brakes and parked right off the driveway, jumping out of the vehicle.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, looking at the place. It looked nearly identical to the house that burnt down, but there was a new barn in the back of the house and fence posts as far as you could see down the drive that kept going. Your dad had never cleared that far into the woods, but it looked good. It looked like a really successful ranch had been started right where so much devastation had taken place.

“Brandy, do we know the people who live here?” AppleJack asked, finally catching up to your quick walk towards the house. “What is this place?”

A man walked out of the house and froze once he saw you, and you hardly heard both AppleJack and Smirnoff arguing about if he was single.

“Jack,” you breathed. He stepped down off the porch and came over to you, greeting you with a sad smile. “I tried to call you a couple of times.”

“Listen,” he started, completely ignoring your previous statement, “since you’re here, you and your friends should look around. Say hello to the horses in the barn or something. It’s nice out today.” He tipped his hat towards your two companions and called his dog, making his way back into the house before you could say anything else.

You shook your head, trying to clear your eyes of the tears that had somehow started filling them. As you looked around the ranch, you saw all the little things that Jack had done, as well as the big, that made this place feel so much like home. It was almost exactly the way it had been when you lived there so long ago, and you were reminded of the photo Jack had on your old mantel. You’d asked him why he kept it, but he hadn’t answered then. And the times when the guys you used to work with were trying to tell you that Jack was successful now, but Jack had cut them off. Now you knew why. He’d built this place for you.

_________________________________________________________________

When you got to the Kentucky office, Champ was waiting for you downstairs.

“Hey, little darling, there was a man here for you. He straight up asked about your whole name and everything. Did you have a guest coming for the wedding we didn’t know about who’d know your civilian name?” He asked. Your brow furrowed as you shook your head. “Alright, well we sent him on his way, anyhow. I’m sure it’s fine.”

You introduced him to your two companions and Champ grinned, happy to meet two people you trusted with your life. You asked him if Rum was here yet, to which Champ nodded and guided you all inside. “Got here about two hours before you, sweetheart.”

Once you were inside, it seemed like a whirlwind of things happened as you readied yourself to get married for a second time. The next 36 hours were hell, waiting for everything to be finalized so you could get hitched.

It was Saturday morning and Champ had stationed two low ranking agents to man the guests as they filtered into the cellar where you’d be holding the wedding. So far, only agents were to be in attendance and a few plus ones, but you’d wanted to keep it small. So when a balding man appeared and introduced himself as Mr. Collier, telling the two agents that he wasn’t on the list, they promptly told him that he couldn’t come inside as he wasn’t invited. The man insisted he had urgent business with a Ms. Daniels, but the agents weren’t having it and escorted him out of the cellar.

Meanwhile, at your old house, the one you had shared with Jack, your ex-husband was adding the last few crates and boxes of his and your things to his truck. He groaned once he saw his mama leaning up against her car in the driveway since he hadn’t seen her pull up.

“Hey, sweetheart, there’s a wedding goin’ on.” She said softly, helping him throw a gym bag into the backseat of his truck.

“Yeah, I heard mention of it a time or two.” Jack shrugged, “I sure hope this weather cooperates. It’s supposed to be a big storm.” He didn’t want to give into his mama and tell her how he really felt about all this.

The truth was, Jack was devastated. He’d spent so much time trying to get his wife back, and now she was marrying a man he knew she didn’t love as much as she loved him, and it hurt. It felt like something had died inside his chest, and he supposed something did. His heart.

“You know, Jack, you’re my only son and I love you, but sometimes you are too much like your daddy.” Helen sighed.

“She made her decision, Mama.” Jack set the last box in the bed of the truck and covered them up with tarps to keep ‘em dry.

“For somebody who’s been holdin’ onto somethin’ so hard, you’re pretty quick to let it go.” Helen eyed him.

“You know I can’t control her anymore than I can control the weather. I gotta go. I wanna get these inside before the rain ruins whatever I’ve got left.” Jack tipped his hat at his mama and climbed inside the cab. Helen shook her head in disappointment.

Champ stood in the corner of the apartment you’d been occupying in the Statesman office that weekend, watching you adjust your dress and cowboy boots. He smirked once he realized you’d be getting married, Southern style with the boots and a dress that he swore he’d seen in one of those fancy Southern Living magazines his wife was always reading. Or was it Southern Weddings? He didn’t know, but you looked beautiful. Even more so than the first time he’d officiated your wedding to Jack.

You kept fidgeting, causing Champ to speak up.

“It’s just nerves. You’re doing the right thing.” He attempted to reassure you.

“Am I?” You asked, unsure.

“When I married my wife, Lord, I was a goner for that woman. I couldn’t put one foot down in front of the other, despite being an agent with perfect balance, mind you. I remember standin’ there thinking, ‘Oh preacher, better hurry up before this woman changes her mind.’ And look where it got me. Sometimes she drives me so crazy that I could shoot her, but—”

“But you still love her.” You cut him off.

“God knows I do, and only she knows why.” Champ laughed, his eyes teary as he looked you over.

“Champ, I think I—”

“He can give you a life in this company, honey. You’ve always wanted this. And he adores you.” Champ said firmly, not letting you get back on the confusion train.

“He does, doesn’t he?” You sighed, “Well, even if he is a Yankee, at least he’s sober. Let’s go, Champ. I’m ready to get this over with.”

Champ led you down to the cellars, and then down the aisle. He didn’t get you two very far, though, when a man’s shouts were heard yelling “Ms. Daniels! Ms. Daniels!”

You whipped around, confused about why someone would be calling you by your married name. “Mr. Collier?” You asked in surprise. The two agents supposed to be manning the door had grabbed him by now, but you were quick to dismiss them.

Rum called your name, but you held up a hand to stop him from speaking. You didn’t know why Mr. Collier was here, but it had to be important if he was trying this hard to get in contact with you. The man took a moment to catch his breath.

“You are one hard woman to get in contact with.” Mr. Collier wheezed as he bent over to breathe.

“Mr. Collier, he signed the papers.” You said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“He did. You didn’t.” You finally noticed the papers he was holding and sucked in a breath.

“What? You mean I’m still married?” You asked, unsure how you felt about this new information. You thought for sure you’d signed the papers when you’d sent them off the day after Jack had signed them. Apparently, you hadn’t. Mr. Collier pointed at the line above Jack’s name, and sure enough, it was blank.

“Well, not if you don’t want to be.” Mr. Collier replied gently as he handed over the papers.

“For goodness sake, Brandy, I thought you took care of this?” Rum groaned as he made his way to stand in the aisle beside you.

“It’s an honest mistake, Blake.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“Well, then, can we fix it? We’ve got agents who need to be on missions soon and we have a honeymoon to get to.” Rum snorted. Your brows furrowed as you watched this normally kind man getting frustrated over a mistake you hadn’t even realized you made.

“Does anybody have a non-deadly pen?” You asked, knowing no one would have one on them unless it had ten functions to kill someone and not one of them being the purpose of a real pen with ink that would actually stay on the paper. You’d made the mistake before of signing something with ink that removed itself within two hours and you didn’t want to make that mistake again.

No one around you had one, not even Champ, until a woman behind you cleared her throat. You turned around to face your mother in law, Jack’s mom.

“These things don’t just happen, y’know.” Helen said with a knowing smile as she held out a fountain pen. You took it and uncapped it, placing it on the paper but not moving to sign it.

“You can’t ride two horse with one ass, sweetheart.” Champ said from beside you. You looked up at him and with a watery smile, you told him you couldn’t sign the papers.

“Blake,” you started, taking his hands in yours, “You don’t want to marry me.”

“I don’t?” He asked, eyes almost looking dangerous.

“No, you don’t. Not really. You see, the truth is—” You hesitated before continuing. “I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart, and I never really got it back. And I don’t even know what else to say besides ‘I’m sorry.’ I can’t marry you, and you shouldn’t want to marry me.”

“So this is what it feels like.” Blake muttered, eyes definitely glittering with anger now. “You can’t just do this to me. That’s it? You’re just going to leave me for the man you haven’t even wanted to be married to for seven years? God, Brandy, what the hell!” He shouted.

You took a step back, attempting to make space and remove your hands from his, but he held your hands tightly. You gulped, knowing Blake wasn’t done.

“In my entire career, and I have a good one, I have never met someone so deceitful and manipulative! I should’ve known, considering our occupations, but this is so disgusting what you’ve done.” Blake spat.

“I’m just trying to be honest.” You whispered.

“You are such a little bitch.” Blake roughly dropped your hands and Champ immediately stepped in, crowding the shorter agent.

“Now, look here, Agent Rum. She said her piece and there’s no need for name-callin’, you hear me?” Champ growled.

“Oh go back to your office and get shit-faced.” Blake spat at Champ’s feet. You saw red.

“Nobody talks to my daddy like that.” You growled, throwing one of your best punches. Agent Rum was soon on the ground and you chucked your engagement ring at his head. It hit his cheek and bounced off somewhere, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Praise the Lord, my baby’s back.” Champ cheered, pulling you away from your ex-fiancé.

“Hey y’all!” You shouted as you stood up on an empty chair in the venue, “If you’re friends of the bride, stick around! I’m gonna go find me a groom!”

And then you were off, grabbing your keys from Moonshine and hopping in your truck, wedding dress getting stuck in the door. You didn’t care, though. You knew exactly where Jack would be and you planned to go get your man back.

You roared into the meadow, truck chassis bumping around on the uneven ground. The door was flung open and you were racing across the field, dress bunched in your hands. Rain had started falling, and Jack was sitting in the bed of his truck getting sopping wet. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hands, but he hadn’t quite noticed you yet.

“Hey, cowboy!” You shouted above the rain and he whipped around to face you, eyes wide beneath the brim of his hat. Rain dripped off the edges and you almost laughed at how bedraggled he looked, but refrained. “You owe me a dance.”

“Nice dress. Where’s your husband?” Jack finally said as he capped the whiskey bottle and set it down beside him in the truck bed.

“I’m lookin’ at him.” You said, and Jack froze. “Apparently, you and I are still hitched.”

“Is that right?” He asked slowly as he got off the tailgate. He made his way over to stand in front of you, rain still pouring over the both of you to the point where you could only really see him anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me you came to New York?” You asked desperately, needing to know if he still wanted you, if he still loved you.

“I needed to make somethin’ of myself.”

“About done?” You asked in disbelief. This man was already enough for you, how could he not see it?

“What is it about you Southern girls? You can’t make the right decisions ‘til you tried all the wrong ones?” Jack scoffed. He was sure this was some elaborate joke, that your fiancé would hop out of your pickup truck and laugh at him any minute now.

“At least I fight for what I want!”

“Oh, what do you want, honey? Hell, I don’t even think you know.” Jack shook his head.

“You’re the first boy I ever kissed, Jack, and I want you to be the last.” You said as you stepped closer to him, dress dragging in the grass and dirt. You didn’t even care, not if it meant you could get your husband back.

“Maybe you and I had our chance.” Jack muttered, hoping you couldn’t hear him, but you did.

“Fine! Have it your way, stubborn ass!” You yelled.

“Whatcha wanna be married to me for anyhow?” Jack asked, repeating what you’d asked him all those years ago when you were twelve. You grinned, catching up to his game.

“So I can kiss you anytime I want.”

And then you were in his arms and he was kissing you, his hat dumping water on the both of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were already soaked. You’d gotten your man back, and you sighed into his mouth. You didn’t want to move again, the feeling of his kiss bringing life back into your lungs and giving you space to breathe for the first time in a long time. He just felt right. Hands wandered up his back and you knocked off his hat in an effort to get even closer to him. He groaned when fingers locked into his now soaked hair, tongue slipping into your mouth when you whined.

You only broke away when you heard someone yelling at the both of you, lights shining right onto your interlocking figures.

“What the hell are you two trying to do? Get yourselves killed?” Tequila yelled. You laughed, breaking away from Jack just long enough to shout back.

“What seems to be the trouble, officer?”

“I’m here to bring you in again, little lady!” Tequila called back, hands on his hips and looking downright hilarious.

“What did she do this time?” Jack shouted. He walked you both closer to Tequila and the man had the audacity to grin at the two of you.

“Well, the way I hear it, seems she run out on a perfectly good cake!”

You laughed and smooched Jack on the cheek before reaching down to grab his hat from the ground.

“Get in my truck, cowboy!” You grinned, “Seems we finally get our reception!”

You raced your husband to your truck, hopping in and laughing at the way you both shivered from the cool air you’d had blasting. Jack swore and turned on the heat as you got yourselves out of the meadow and started following the red and blue flashing lights of Tequila’s patrol car.

You reached a hand over to hold Jack’s and he lifted your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to the knuckles.

“I love you.” He murmured and you returned the sentiments, happy for the first time in a long time.

Tequila led you to the bar Helen owned, and you laughed once you realized where the guys had decided to hold your reception. It was only fitting that the place where you’d originally hosted your first reception was now the place of your second, and with the same man no less.

Tequila made his way indoors first and introduced you, yelling out a “Ladies and gentleman, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Daniels!”

You rushed inside, nearly tripping over your boots and dress, but Jack steadied you, dipping you for a deep kiss just inside the door.

Catcalls filled the air as Jack lifted you back up, a boyish grin gracing his lips.

“I do believe I owe this lady a dance,” Jack nodded at his Mama by the jukebox and she smiled at the two of you.

“You sure do!” Moonshine shouted.

“Hey Helen,” you turned to Jack’s mama, “make it a slow one.”

She saluted you, and then hit a button, playing Tennessee Whiskey. Jack snorted at the song choice as he held your waist in the middle of the space they’d cleared for a dance floor, but you didn’t mind. You’d always joked that the song was about him with his Statesman name, and he hated it. You loved him, though.

You had your husband back and you weren’t ever going to give him up again. You swayed to the song for a moment before leaning up to kiss him. Finally, you were home.

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

The Roommate

(KunTen Threesome)

Kun X Ten X Reader

16.2K words

You had no idea how you ended up in this situation, but God did it feel good.  

It had been so long since you felt this dirty, this... filled up. You were exhausted and yet you wanted more, you needed more. You never wanted this feeling to end. It was like you and Kun had been visited by an angel, or maybe devil would be more accurate. What used to be dull was now exciting and sexy. You couldn’t even imagine going back to what sex was like, what life was like before he showed you, and not just you, both of you were blessed by his presence. Others wouldn’t understand it, but that was their loss. They couldn’t understand the intensity of the pleasure you felt.��

You and Kun had only been together for two months now, but you knew that he was the one. He was everything that you could ask for and more. He was protective, reliable, caring, considerate, generous, the list went on and on, not to mention the fact that he had an ass that wouldn’t quit. In the short amount of time you two had gotten to know each other, you were already inseparable. There was only one problem, the sex.

You were far from a virgin, but you had just broken up with your ex when you first met Kun, so you wanted to take things slow. Your ex was a cheating son of a bitch and you had just felt used by him which is why you wanted to make sure that the next guy would love you for you, not just your body. Kun was actually there the night you had caught your ex, Xiaojun, cheating on you. Xiaojun was a club promoter at one of the biggest clubs in the city, Neo Zone. You knew that his job involved light flirting, but when you had tried to surprise him by visiting him one night, you ended up seeing something you wish you hadn’t, Xiaojun making out with some random girl. You had walked up to him and once he noticed you, he had the fucking audacity to just say “Oh. Hey,” causing you to run out of the club with tears in your eyes.  

With mascara running down your face, you ran past a line of people trying to get into the club you wanted so desperately to get away from. You wanted to avoid their stares and just when you thought that you had successfully avoided anyone and everyone, you ran straight into someone, falling flat on your ass.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry. I should have looked where I was going,” the man apologized offering you his hand.

“Don’t be stupid. It was me who ran into you,” you coldly replied, making a point to get up without the man’s help.

“Are you okay?” he asked again after retracting his hand.

“Oh, I’m just peachy,” you snapped.

The man stepped back, obviously shocked by the tone of your voice, yet he continued to press on.  

“You’ve been crying,” he commented.

“So what?” you barked before starting to walk away.

You hadn’t taken more than a couple steps before the overly curious man grabbed your arm, halting you.

You turned back towards him with a glare that could intimidate even the bravest of men. He reacted by looking down at the hand that was grabbing onto your arm, then quickly releasing it.

“Sorry. I’m just... you seem... sorry... do you wanna talk about it?” he seemed unsure of himself in every way so why was he still... trying?

“I’m not drunk so don’t think that you can ‘get’ me,” you scowled.

“No! I’m not... I’m not trying to hit on you. I’m just concerned. You seem really upset. Can I take you somewhere?  Like... to get a coffee or something? I know it’s late, but I’m sure we could get coffee at like a convenience store or something.”

You took notice of the man’s appearance for the first time. You had wanted to feel him out to see if his concern was really genuine, but instead you found yourself admiring his features.

His bleached blonde locks were swept to the side in a style that showed off his shaved sides. His eyebrows were straight, and his lips had a slight pout to them. His jaw was stronger than what you were used to, and you couldn’t help but notice the single gold earring that dangled from his ear as he spoke. It was strange actually. Normally a face like this would be considered intimidating, but the string of stutters and “I’m sorry”s made the man in front of you anything but.

Remembering that the subways wouldn’t start running for another few hours led you to accept his invitation for convenient store coffee. You ended up telling him everything about what had happened that night, about Xiaojun, everything. He listened carefully and didn’t make any moves on you whatsoever. It felt nice knowing that someone was being kind to you without trying to get laid in the process, which is why when he drove you home, you initiated the kiss. He gave you his number and you started seeing each other. It was really perfect actually. He respected your wishes and waited for over a month before you both had sex for the first time. He was perfect in every way... except one.  

The sex...was horrible. Okay, so it wasn’t the worst, but despite being compatible in every other way, you weren’t sexually compatible in the least. It wasn’t that he wasn’t gifted, God knows that he was more than blessed in that department. It was just that he was... gentle, too gentle.  

He was beyond attractive, but during sex, it was like he doubted himself in every way not that you were any better. For some reason you couldn’t preform either. Neither of you could understand it.  

He felt horrible that he hadn’t managed to make you cum even once, but the moment you faked it, he called you out immediately. It was a blow to his confidence to say the least.  

You weren’t the only one who was struggling to reach their climax. With him, there was a fifty-fifty percent chance that he would cum. Trying to comfort you, he would swear that he had never had this problem before, but of course that only made you feel worse about yourself.

You loved Kun and you wanted to make it work, but you had no idea where to start. You never had this problem before.  

Kun had invited you over to his place, so you were sure that sex was on the table. In an attempt to spice things up, you put on your sexiest lingerie before putting on a nice summer dress along with a cardigan to keep you warm. You were hoping to jump into his arms as soon as he opened the door, but you were not expecting him to have company. After knocking, a man that was definitely not Kun had answered the door.  

He was short. That was the first thing you noticed about him. He might have even been shorter than you, but you couldn’t focus on his height for long because he was absolutely breathtaking. He had very feminine features, but they didn’t take away from his masculinity at all. His eyes were large and round and his jawline was way better than yours, probably even better than Kun’s as well, but to compare the two would have seemed impossible. If Kun looked like an angel, then this boy definitely looked like a demon.  

His hair was raven black and styled so that his bangs were swept to the side. His skin was both tan and pale, which you didn’t know was even possible, but there were a lot of things about the man’s features that didn’t seem possible.  

He was wearing leather pants that were tight around his legs and.... well, everywhere else too. He wore a chain that draped from one of his belt loops, yet no belt, which probably made sense given how tight his pants were. He had on an oversized black t shirt that was ripped at the neck, allowing his protruding collar bones to peek out. His shoes were combat boots, because... well, of course they were. Everything about his outfit screamed intimidation right down to the myriad of piercings that adorned his ears.  

“Look who it is, the infamous Y/N,” the man teased.

You were caught off guard by his higher than expected voice.

“In-infamous?” you stuttered.

The man chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it sweetheart, I’m just kidding. I was wondering when I would get to meet Kun’s girlfriend,” he cooed, opening the door wider to let you in.  

You tried to collect yourself after the sudden shock of meeting the man who’s name and exact relation to Kun you were still unaware of.  

Walking through the door, your arm accidentally brushed past the man’s, but you figured that apologizing would only make you sound more awkward than you already felt.  

“May I take your sweater?”

You shot a glance towards him in a brief bout of confusion before he opened the coat closet and took out a hanger.  

“Oh, um... Sure,” you complied as you started to take your cardigan off.  

As the sleeves fell off your shoulders, so did one of your dress’ straps, revealing the lacey lingerie you were wearing underneath.  

You hadn’t even noticed your wardrobe malfunction until you realized that Ten was watching you as though you were doing something far more suggestive than just hanging your sweater on the closet rack. You quickly readjusted your dress strap unable to control the heat that suddenly rose to your cheeks, earning a chuckle from the strange man.

“Don’t worry, princess. I see what’s happening, what you’re trying to do,” he taunted.

“What? What do you mean? I’m not trying to do anything,” you started waving your hands erratically at his accusation, only to make him laugh even more.  

“I said don’t worry. It’s cute to see that Kun’s girlfriend isn’t as innocent as I had originally thought she would be. Although... you do get flustered just as easily.”

You continued to stare at the man in embarrassment.

“I’ll be leaving in just a few minutes, so you won’t have to worry about me when you make your move on my friend, here,” he mocked as Kun mad his appearance.  

The sight of your boyfriend was more than enough to send your mind into a panic.

Oh god, what were I thinking? The fact that the thought that this guy was suggesting that the sudden exposure of my lingerie was on purpose, had even crossed my mind proved how much of a pervert I really am. Of course, he was talking about how I was wearing it for my boyfriend.  

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Kun greeted, causing you to jump out of your skin a little in reaction to the sudden interruption of your thoughts.  

“H-hey, Kun!” you shouted a little too loud as you basically jumped into his embrace.    

“I see you’ve already met my roommate, Ten,” Kun continued.

You looked back at the raven-haired man who was simply watching you hug your boyfriend in amusement.

“R-roommate?” you stuttered as you released yourself from your boyfriend’s arms.

“No actually, we haven’t gotten to that part yet,” the man walked over to you, his hand extending towards yours.  

“I’m Chittaphon, but please call me Ten.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said as you turned back to Kun cutting off the introduction.

“I didn’t know you had a roommate.”

“Well I’m normally not here most nights, so I’m pretty sure he forgets he has a roommate himself sometimes,” Ten answered for him.

“Anyways, I’m about to head out, so don’t worry about me interrupting anything,” Ten winked as he grabbed a worn-down leather jacket from the closet you had just hung up your sweater in.  

Both you and Kun started blushing which earned yet another chuckle from Ten.  

“I told you,” he teased before walking out the door.

“Told you what?” Kun questioned.

“Um.. Nothing, I don’t remember. Haha,” you responded, kicking yourself for your awkwardness.  

Kun curiously quirked his head to the side but didn’t pry any further.  

Once you were sure that Kun’s roommate was gone your lips attacked Kun’s. Your hands travelled to the back of his head keeping his mouth pressed against yours, but he managed to push you away.

“Hey, hey, you just got here, don’t you wanna hang out and talk first?”

You looked up at him with a glint of defeat in your eyes. Your disappointment not going unnoticed.

“It’s not that I don’t want to! It’s just that I haven’t seen you in a few days and I wanna catch up, that’s all.”

“Kun, we text a thousand times a day and you call me every night, even when we do see each other,” you scoffed, slightly irritated.

“Babe, you know it’s not the same. I love it when we get to talk in person.”

Kun’s use of the pet name gave you a slight shiver, making you heed your boyfriend’s request.

You both walked over to the couch to sit down.

“So, what do you wanna talk about?” he asked.

“I don’t know. You’re the one who was so insistent on ‘catching up,’” you smirked using air quotes to emphasize your point.

Kun looked down at his feet.

“Well you could tell me about the roommate I didn’t know you had,” you coolly mentioned, not wanting your boyfriend to see the intense curiosity you held regarding the raven-haired man.

“Oh, Ten? Ten’s cool. We’ve actually gotten a lot closer lately. At first we never really saw each other.”

“Oh yeah?” you motioned for him to go on.  

“Yeah well, I couldn’t afford to stay at my last apartment since my old roommate moved out, so while searching for a new place, I came across a flyer for this place,” Kun continued.  

“It was a typical roommate wanted poster, but I remember thinking that it was a little odd,”

“Why?” you asked, curiosity taking over.  

“Well the flyer said that the renter was a night owl and that he was looking for a roommate who was quiet during the day.”

“Huh,” you commented.

“Yeah, but the rent was so cheap that I gave him a call the next day. We met up here and he gave me a tour and everything. He told me that he worked at night so I wouldn’t have to worry about him being loud while I was sleeping,” Kun relayed, chuckling at the memory.  

“I remember being so curious as to what he did for a living, yet for some reason I didn’t have the courage to ask him. I figured that he was probably a bartender or something.”

You kept looking at Kun as he recalled the events, but you remained silent, not wanting to interrupt his story,

“I ended up moving in later that week. At first, we never really saw each other. I was taking morning classes, so I was typically in bed before he left for work. Sometimes he would leave notes asking me to take out the garbage or telling me that the garbage disposal was broken, but not to worry about it since a plumber would be coming by to fix it. It wasn’t until I finished up the semester that we started interacting. I didn’t have to wake up as early, so I would stay up later. It was actually pretty nice. We mostly just did small talk, but it was nice to be able to actually see my roommate. Although... after a while, I noticed that Ten would dress up in some very unusual clothing. Sometimes it was casual, but sometimes he would wear all leather. either way it he wore mostly black. At first, I wondered if he was just going out before work, but he never brought a change of clothing as far as I could tell.”

“Those were his work clothes?” you inquired.

“Yeah, I know right? I still hadn’t asked him what he did for a living at that point, and honestly I think that I was too afraid to find out.”

“So, you don’t know what he does?”  

“Well, actually, it’s kind of a funny story,“ Kun started, as though the story hadn’t already been weird up to this point.

“One Friday night, Ten didn't have to work, so he invited me to drink with him at home. I was a little hesitant at first but Ten was being so kind about it, insisting that roommates should get to know each other over at least one drink, so I agreed and well, one drink turned into six and next thing you know, we’re telling each other our life stories. Ten is actually a pretty interesting guy, not to mention generous. Even though the rent for this place is 1,600,000 won, he only charges me 600,000. His reasoning was that he had the larger of the rooms. He seemed so well off that I even wondered why he needed a roommate in the first place. When I asked him, he told me that he was saving up to expand his business, which is when I finally asked him about it.”

You were completely captivated by Kun’s story, the suspense was almost eating away at you. What kind of job allowed you to wear leather and chains? Was Kun living with a prostitute? Or perhaps Ten was a dominatrix. Maybe his business was a sex club. It was crazy to think about but was it really that farfetched of an idea? It wasn’t like it would be unbelievable to think that a man who oozed sex appeal wouldn’t be capable of having chosen either one of said professions.  

“What did he say?” you asked mentally preparing yourself for Kun’s answer.  

“He’s a sex therapist,” Kun stated matter of factly.

Your eyebrows raised.

“A sex therapist? Just a sex therapist?”

“I know right? I thought for sure that he was a dominatrix of some sort, but no, he’s just a sex therapist.”

“So, the clothes-”

“He just likes them,” Kun answered already knowing what you were going to ask.  

“He own’s his own business so he doesn’t have to worry about a dress code,” he continued.

“But his clients, wouldn’t they feel uncomfortable-”

“Well get this,” Kun interjected once more.

“Ten isn’t your typical sex therapist.”

“What do you mean?”

“He watches them,” Kun hummed.

“What?”

“His clients, he watches them have sex.”

“Most sex therapists have an office where their clients come to talk about their sex lives and the problems that they have, but Ten does things differently. Of course, he does have an office and his clients do come in to talk about their sex lives, but Ten does house calls as well,” Kun explained.

“Did he tell you this?” you questioned.  

“He told me everything. He wouldn’t tell me his clients names, but he told me about how sometimes, if he felt the couple needed extra assistance, he would literally guide them.”

You felt a small tinge of guilt as the thought of you and Kun possibly needing Ten’s guidance crossed your mind.  

“So, he’s a prostitute sex therapist?”  

“No, he doesn’t join in, he just tells them what to do. Although.... he did hint that he sometimes he does other things like teaching them how to tie silk ropes or umm...” Kun suddenly coughed out of awkwardness.

“Sometimes he’ll what?” you demanded, on the edge of your seat.

“Nothing, I don’t know where I was going with that,” Kun said as he reached his hand to your shoulder.

Your strap had fallen down again, revealing your lingerie for the second time that day.  

“What’s this?” Kun playfully teased, trying to change the subject.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re the one who told me you wanted to ‘catch up.’ What did he say?”

Kun’s flirty façade suddenly faltered.  

“Can we talk about something else?” he pleaded.

“Kun, I wanna know,” you softly protested, your eyes widened in the hopes of charming the answer out of him.

“I just don’t feel comfortable talking about Ten’s personal stuff,” Kun defended.

“Baby, you literally just told me that your roommate watches people have sex for a living. How bad could it be?”

Kun sighed.

“I don’t know exactly what he meant by this because we were both pretty drunk, but he told me that when he makes a house call, it’s like he becomes a part of it, even though he isn’t physically participating. It’s like he does everything except have sex with the couple.”

Your earlier thoughts of wanting to ask Ten for advice on how to improve you and Kun’s sex life quickly dissipated as this new information on just how uncomfortable and violative Ten’s methods revealed themselves to be. Except now your thoughts were filled with images of Ten and what he could have possibly meant when he told Kun how he would sexually engage with his clients.  

Your guilt increased tenfold when an image of you and Ten crossed your mind. You wondered what sex with him would be like. Besides the fact that he was mouth wateringly attractive and was dripping in sex appeal, he had this aura to him that felt almost androgynous, something you didn’t often get to see in your everyday life. He was a man and yet his confidence in his femininity excited you. Not to mention the fact that a sex therapist had to be skilled in ways that Kun just wasn’t.

“Baby?”  

Your thoughts were interrupted when Kun called you by one of your many pet names.

You looked over to your boyfriend who was slowly inching his way towards you on the couch.  

“Wasn’t there something you wanted to do?” he playfully taunted.

“Maybe,” you teased back, softly biting your lower lip.  

“I mean, why else would you be wearing something so naughty underneath such an innocent looking dress?”

You chuckled at his boldness and he quickly grabbed at your waist.

“Why don’t you find out?”

You gasped as Kun’s lips made their way to your neck, immediately finding your sweet spot.  

His hands moved under your dress. You lifted up your arms allowing him to lift the dress off of your frame.

“You look so beautiful,” Kun complimented, gazing upon you in your lingerie  

You were extremely turned on and you didn’t know if it was because your boyfriend was starting to act more confident or if it was because of Ten...

You brushed away your thoughts so that you could enjoy your boyfriend’s touch, easing into it.  

You lifted his shirt off of him, exposing his upper body and soon enough you were both just grabbing at each other in a desperate attempt to remove yourselves from your remaining clothes.  

Once you both were completely undressed, Kun was on top of you. His hands gently caressed your body, sending shivers down your spine as he kissed your lips.  

Your hands found themselves traveling down Kun’s happy trail (Yeah he has one, we all saw it), only to find something not so happy.  

“You’re soft.”  

“What?”  

Kun looked down at his member.  

“Just give it a second,” Kun commented before his lips returned to yours.  

In your peripheral vision, you could see Kun’s arms moving as they pumped his length,  

“Ummm...” you started.

“No baby, I’m fine. This is really hot,” he promised, starting to sound a little panicked.

“Not if you have to try this hard to get hard,”  

You were filled with hurt when you’d much rather be filled with something else.  

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” you asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe you could suck it?”  

That was the least sexy request for a blow job you had ever heard, but at this point, you just wanted to get back to how you were feeling only moments prior.  

You did everything you could think of. You made eye contact, you played with yourself, you slapped the head of his cock against your perky tits, but all to no avail, he wasn’t even close to being hard.  

You felt like you could cry.

“Is it me?”

“What?”

“Is it me? Am I not attractive or-”

Kun’s face went from panicked, to even more panicked. He quickly kneeled down so that he was at eye level with you.

“No! Of course not! You’re perfect. I’m just-”

“Just what, Kun?” you nearly shouted.

You felt bad because you knew that he was probably just as unhappy with the situation as you were, but you couldn’t stand it anymore. Things weren’t getting better; they were getting worse. At first, he couldn’t make you cum, then neither of you could cum and now he couldn’t even get hard.  

You both felt pathetic.  

“I think I should just go home.”  

You started to put your dress back on. Kun wanted to stop you, but he didn’t know what he could do to make things better, so he just watched you get dressed. He followed you as you made your way back to the closet to retrieve your cardigan. He wanted to say something, anything to make what just happened a little less mortifying, but what could he say?

“I’ll text you when I get home,”  

“Oh, okay,” he meekly responded as you closed the door behind you.

<><><><><><>

“Hey, how did it go?” Ten asked as he closed the front door and walked into the living room where Kun was lying on the couch.  

Kun sat up and sighed, not intending to be as loud as he was.  

“That bad, huh?” Ten sat down on the couch and lifted his feet onto the low table that sat in front of them.  

“You have no idea,” Kun groaned.  

“What do you mean? Her dress strap accidentally fell down while I was taking her coat, so I assumed that you both were gonna.... you know,” Ten winked at his roommate.  

Ten looked down at the table his feet were resting on and spotted a half empty bottle of soju and several empty bottles of Cass beer.  

“Dude, are you okay? Did you two break up or something?”  

Kun drunkenly rolled his head so that he could look at Ten.  

“Why are you here? I thought you wouldn’t get back until the morning.”  

“Kun, it’s 4 am,” Ten responded.  

“Can I tell you something?” Kun asked, ignoring Ten’s declaration of the time.  

“Sure?” Ten cocked his head slightly.  

“How are you so confident?”  

“Could you elaborate?” Ten suggested, not understanding Kun’s inquiry.  

“I mean.... after... well... I mean... after a guy... you know... does that to you,” Kun tried to explain his thoughts, but despite his dramatic hand motions, he wasn’t able to express what he was trying to say.  

“Do you mean after bottoming?”  

Kun leaned forward and rubbed his temples.  

“Yeah... after that,” Kun confirmed.  

Now it was Ten’s turn to sigh.  

“Do you wanna talk about it? What happened tonight?”  

Kun looked back at Ten, eyes watery but not quite near tears.  

“You know how I was telling you about how Y/N and I were having troubles in the.... sex department?”  

Ten couldn’t help but let out a laugh at drunk Kun’s wording.  

“Yeah?”  

“Well, tonight... it was worse.”  

“How could it have been worse?  

Kun dragged his hands down his face.  

“I couldn’t even --------” Kun muffled the last part of his sentence.  

“You couldn’t even what?”  

“I couldn’t even get-------” Kun muffled again.  

“I’m sorry, what?”  

“I couldn’t get it up! Okay?!” Kun yelled.  

Ten sighed again.  

“Kun, first of all, bottoming doesn’t make you any less of a man. Second of all, you were exploring your sexuality. Everyone goes through shit like that when they’re.... discovering themselves.”  

Ten moved closer to Kun.  

“And third of all,”  

Ten slapped the back of Kun’s head.  

“You can bottom and still be a top,” Ten laughed.  

Kun slapped away Ten’s hands.  

“I’m serious, man.” Kun asserted.  

“I’m serious too,” Ten retorted.  

Ten patted Kun’s back.  

“I’m just not... as confident as I was before... Sicheng. Hell, even ignoring the whole Sicheng situation, I’m still not confident about... you know... being attracted to both women.... and men,” Kun took his time as he spoke.  

“Like what if she thinks it’s weird? What if she thinks I’m just a gay man who’s not ready to fully come out yet?”  

“Bisexual men exist, Kun. I’m sure Y/N is more open minded than you’re giving her credit for,” Ten commented.  

Kun suddenly turned his entire body on the couch so that he was facing Ten.  

“Help us,” Kun pleaded.  

“What?” Ten asked, knowing exactly what Kun was trying to say, but still hoping he wasn’t.  

“I love her, man. She’s the one, I just know it, but I’m gonna lose her if I can’t get my shit together,” Kun blabbered on.  

“Don’t worry, I have no problem giving you advice Kun,” Ten reassured.  

“No,” Kun boomed. “I- hiccup I mean we need you Ten. What you do for your clients... We need you to do that for us.”  

“You’re drunk, Kun. You aren’t serious. You’re just freaked out right now,” Ten laughed but the humor was absent from his voice.  

“I’m serious, man!” Kun grabbed Ten’s face and pulled it close to his so that they were only inches apart.  

Even though Kun was drunk, he quickly realized his actions when Ten shot him a smirk causing Kun to turn away more than a little flustered.  

“Not so confident now, huh?” Ten muttered running a hand through his raven black locks.

“You can’t even handle having your face be that close to mine without becoming a blushing mess, how are you gonna handle having me intrude on your sex life?” Ten continued.

In that moment, Ten’s words lit a fire in Kun, causing him to pull Ten’s face back into his.

“You don’t understand man, I’d do anything for her,” Kun mouthed as he stared intensely into his roommate’s eyes. “Anything.”

Now it was Ten’s turn to get flustered. He pushed Kun away, causing him to fall back onto the couch. Kun instinctively grabbed onto Ten’s arm, pulling him down with him. Ten hovered over Kun’s body, having used his free arm to prevent himself from falling onto the larger male. They stayed like that for a brief second before realizing the awkwardness of the situation.  

“Sorry,” Kun mumbled.

Ten lifted himself back up into a sitting position, Kun quickly doing the same.

Ten’s hand reached for the back of his own neck, not understanding why he was even trying to convince his roommate out of anything while he was in such a drunken state.  

In one last attempt to get Kun to recognize the weight of what he was asking, Ten brought up another concern.

“Even if you’re serious, would Y/N even agree to something like that?”

“I don’t know. Her reaction to your job wasn’t very readable. I mean she didn’t exactly react to it nonchalantly, but she didn’t seem disgusted either,” Kun responded.

“Oh great. I’m glad your girlfriend isn’t disgusted by me,” Ten sarcastically spat out as he stood up and made his way to the kitchen.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Kun retreated.  

He watched as his roommate poured himself a glass of water.  

“I’ll ask her real quick.”  

Kun took out his phone and started typing something causing Ten to choke on his water.  

“You’ll what?” Ten exclaimed.

Kun ignored his roommate’s inquiry as he continued to type into his phone. Ten quickly ran back into the living room and grabbed Kun’s phone, hoping to save him from making such a huge mistake, but it was too late.

“Fuck, you sent it?” Ten gasped, staring at the message on the dimly lit screen.

Kun only nodded in response.

“Maybe you can pass it off as a joke or something,” Ten hurriedly handed the phone back to Kun.

“Why? Your clients don’t seem to think it’s that weird,” Kun contested.

“My clients know what they’re getting into when they call me. Not to mention that I’m a professional, not one of their roommates.”  

“Quick! You can write something like ‘Haha I got you, didn’t I?’ or maybe-”

Ten’s ramblings were interrupted by a small pinging noise.  

“Shit, she saw it,” Ten sputtered, seeing the phone screen light up.

“You’re so screwed, dude. Your only option is to leave the country and start a new life.”

“She agreed,” Kun blurted out.

Ten’s eyes bulged.

“She what?” Ten sat down beside Kun in disbelief, but after looking at Kun’s phone, his brief moment of denial ended.

Ten and Kun just sat there on the couch staring off into space, neither one saying a word to the other.  

Although Kun was the one who brought the topic up, he couldn’t help but feel hurt that Y/N agreed so quickly. He knew things were bad, but he had kind of hoped that she would try to talk him out of it and tell him that you both just had to try again. Your agreement just confirmed that the situation was as bad as he had thought it was.

The silence was interrupted when Kun’s phone let out another ping sound.  

Kun lifted up his phone to read the message.

“So….what now?” the message read.  

Ten looked over Kun’s shoulder at the message.

“Well, I guess we should start with me getting to know my new clients,” Ten sighed comically.

<><><><><>

You walked through the front doors of BDLI, a soju room where Ten instructed you all meet to talk about the details regarding the upcoming events of the night. It seemed like a popular place since there was no shortage of people wandering around the halls, but it also seemed a little peculiar. You noticed that the other customers were dressed very similarly to Ten, wearing lots of chains and leather. For a second, you worried that Ten might have invited you and Kun to some sort of sex club. The fact that Ten had instructed you to tell the host/hostess that your room reservation was under the name “KItten” did not help to ease your worries. The host was a black-haired man with a name tag that read Hendery on it. At first you thought it was a typo, seeing as the name was so odd, but you quickly brushed it off and told him your reservation name.  

“Nervous?” the man asked, smiling at you.

You looked up at him feeling exposed. Did Ten bring all of his clients here? Did this random man know exactly why you were here?

You nodded slightly, your cheeks beginning to flush.

“Don’t be,” the man continued.  

“Ten is a miracle worker, trust me. My husband and I were clients of his for years.”

“Years?”

The host could sense the panic in your voice.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t take that long. Ten basically fixed our sex life in the first session we had with him. We just liked him so much that my husband, Yangyang, and I kept going every so often just to rekindle our sex life.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” you replied, not knowing what else to say as the man wrote down your room number on a slip of paper and handed it to you.

You had purposely arrived a few minutes late in the hopes that you would be the last to arrive as to avoid any awkwardness between you and either Ten or your loving boyfriend, yet when you arrived at your room number, you opened the door to see that Ten was also running late. You sat down next to your boyfriend. The awkwardness you wanted to avoid ended up being worse than you had originally imagined. Neither of you greeted each other, instead opting to sit in silence. You wondered if talking would ease the tension or increase it.  

Finally, Kun broke the silence.

“Are you still sure about this? We can back out now if you want.”

“I’m sure, Kun, but if you don’t feel comfortable…. I love you and I’m okay with things being the way that they are as long as you’re still in my life,”

Kun, who had been avoiding your gaze up to this point, smiled at you.  

“I love you too,” he spoke softly.

“Well, wasn’t that cute?” Ten remarked as he entered the soju room.  

“Sorry I’m late.”

“You could hear us outside the door?” you asked, concerned that this might not be the best place to discuss such personal matters.  

“Yeah, but only because this entire section is empty except for us,” Ten explained, putting you at ease.

“I always request a more private room when I’m meeting with my clients.”

Ten was wearing an outfit that, although still very dramatic, was a lot more toned down than what he wore the first time you met him. He wore black jeans that were ripped at the knees and a button-down shirt with a black, white, and gray design that resembled a granite countertop. He had a chain that ran down his belt loop and into his back pocket, probably attached to his wallet, along with a simple black leather belt. Compared to your boyfriend, who was wearing a simple white shirt, denim jacket, and black jeans, Ten looked like a model for one of those online stores that sell gothic clothing.

You wanted to ask Ten more about why he chose this place to meet clients at, but a part of you just wanted to get this over with.

“We aren’t doing this here, are we?” you asked.

Ten let out a warm comforting laugh.

“Of course not. If you two decide to move forward with this session, then we’ll move to a nearby motel that’s especially made for couples.”

“You mean a love motel?” Kun asked.

“Whatever you wanna call it,” Ten shrugged.as he reached into his bag.

“I’d like for you to fill these out,” Ten instructed as he pulled two sheets of paper out from his bag and handed them to you and Kun along with two pens.

“What are these?” Kun Inquired.

“Consent forms,” Ten stated as if it were the most normal thing in the world.  

“You mean like waivers?” you asked.  

“Hmmmm, not exactly. These are lists of things that you might be interesting in incorporating into your sex life.”

You gasped.

“Anal beads?!”  

While Ten couldn’t refrain from laughing at your sudden outburst, Kun looked mortified.  

“Listen, it’s just a list. I’m not saying you should try everything on this list tonight, it’s just a list of possible things to try, whether tonight or in the future,” Ten explained as he grabbed the list from you.

“You see these boxes next to each thing listed?”

Ten turned the paper so you could see.

“I want you both to go over this list and put a check mark next to everything you’d be interested in trying tonight, a circle around each thing you might be open to and an X next to anything you definitely do not want to do. This way, we can see which ways your lists overlap and make sure everything done tonight is consensual, understand?”

Both you and Kun nodded and started to fill out the forms.

“We should also come up with a safe word so that either one of you can revoke consent at any point you start to feel uncomfortable with something that’s happening. My personal fave is ‘cactus.’” Ten suggested.

“Why cactus? Why not just say ‘safe word’ or stop?” Kun asked.

“Some people like to taunt each other, you know? Like daring the other to say the safe word. It’s a whole kink in itself. Also, there are several times in which a person may say stop and not want the person to stop, the obvious example being ‘don’t stop,’”

“Okay but why cactus?”  

“Simple,” Ten smiled.

“There is no faster way to kill the mood without ruining it for the while night like thinking about a prickly cactus.”

The three of you couldn’t help but laugh at such a stupid joke.

“So, let’s get started with the details. Since every case is different, instead of explaining how the process works, I’d rather go over your questions and concerns.”

Ten looked at you and Kun.

Neither of you said anything.

Ten’s eyes moved to yours and smirked slightly. You had felt even more nervous than when you two had first met and yet it didn’t seem like Ten was teasing you. Instead, he seemed curious.

“Okay, it’s normal to be stand-offish at first. Maybe we should have a few drinks to ease into it,” Ten offered as he started preparing three somaek glasses.

“Just try to limit yourselves to two drinks each, we don’t want to deal with any issues regarding proper consent or whisky dick, do we?”

“Can’t you tell us a little bit about the process?” Kun asked, ignoring Ten’s whisky dick comment.

Ten sighed softly as he handed each of us a drink. Without cheersing, we all started sipping on our drinks.  

“Basically, what I’ll be doing if you decide to go through with it, is instructing you two on what to do, without really instructing you to do it.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Kun asked.  

You were glad that he was taking the lead on this, so you didn’t have to.

“It’ll be more like encouragement from the sidelines or showing you new techniques to try out and stuff like that. To be honest, it’ll probably be better if it’s more of a surprise.”

Kun looked uneasy.

“So, what are your biggest concerns?”

Kun and you looked at each other. Several concerns crossed both of your minds, but neither one of you knew where to start or even how to phrase them.

“Come on, I’m not going to be able to help you guys if I don’t know what I can and can’t do.”

“About that-” you started. “What you can’t do… I wanted to ask. You don’t actually have sex with your clients, do you?”

“I’m a professional, so no.”

“But we aren’t technically your clients,” you pointed out.

Kun’s eyes bulged and he shot you a concerned look.

“Baby, what are you-”

“I’m just wondering. Kun told me over text that you were doing this as a favor. I know that he’s paying for this room, the soju, and probably for the hotel room as well, but you aren’t charging us for your services, so we aren’t your clients,” you continued.  

“I guess you’re right,” Ten responded. “And I’m sure that Kun has at least hinted that I’m more sexually open in my own personal life than most.”

“Wait-” Kun tried to speak before he was cut off once more.

“If you two wanted me to join in, I suppose I legally could do so, but don’t worry. I know that isn’t why you both asked for my help, so I won’t overstep.”

You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment at his response. You looked over at Kun, who seemed relieved.

“Any other concerns?” Ten asked.

Silence.

“Okay then, ready to go?”

“What about the consent forms? Aren’t we going to go over them?”

“We’ll save that for when we’re actually in the hotel.”

<><><><>

All three of you made your way out of the building. No one was spared from the awkward tension between you three. Ten hailed a cab, choosing to get into the passenger side so that you and Kun could share the back. You could see Ten mouth words to the driver, but none of them registered in your mind. You were too anxious. Your heart was racing but your mind was blank. You could feel the panic building up, but then you felt a hand grab yours.  

You looked up to see Kun smiling at you. He could sense your uneasiness and despite his own anxiety, he couldn’t bear to see you in such a state.  

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered over and over again until your breathing slowed.

He flashed you another smile and you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.  

The cab ride couldn’t have lasted longer than 6 minutes, but the anticipation made every minute feel like an eternity.

Ten thanked the cab driver and handed him more than the due cab fare before turning to you and Kun, motioning that it was time for you to make your exits.  

After that, everything felt like a blur. Ten handled everything just like he had been, and next thing you know, you were already walking into the hotel room.  

The room was bigger than you had expected. You imagined a typical hotel room, full sized bed, dresser, maybe a tv, but this was so much more. The bed was huge. You didn’t know that a bed could be so big and yet it didn’t even take up most of the room. You were on the 12th floor as made obvious by the ceiling to floor length windows that made up the corner of the room. The curtains didn’t seem that useful since they were made of a sheer grey fabric, not that privacy wasn’t already guaranteed by the height your room was at. The bed sheets, which had to have been satin or even silk, along with the mountain of pillows that rested on top of them were a tone of grey similar to that of the curtains. You wondered how soft they would feel. The hardwood floor was a colored a deep black that easily reflected any light that touched it. There was no TV, which surprised you since in every other way, the room screamed that no expense was spared, but this was still a love hotel, so that there was no use for a television.  

You were in shock.  

How could Kun even afford a night in a room like this? How much could it have cost?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Ten asked, “Would anyone like another drink?”

You and Kun, who had also been taking in the motel room, turned to see Ten opening a fridge next to a bar counter you hadn’t noticed until just now.  

You both raised your hands in unison earning yet another chuckle from Ten.

“Remember, the goal here isn’t to get drunk, but to get comfortable.”

Ten waved for you and Kun to join him at the bar as he started making three gin and tonics.

After getting yourselves situated with your drinks, Ten cleared his throat.

“We should talk about everything that’s been going on with your relationship lately before we get started.”

“There isn’t anything to talk about,” Kun spoke up.

Ten turned towards Kun.

“We’re perfect for each other, it’s just about the sex.”

You kept your eyes glued to your drink.  

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with your relationship, I’m just saying that we should do some actual therapy before we jump into things,” Ten explained.

“Kun, is there anything you want to share with Y/N?”  

Ten gave Kun a strange look.

Kun shook his head.  

“I don’t.”

Ten looked like he wanted to probe further but decided against it.  

“What about you Y/N? Do you have anything you want to say?”

“Yes actually, I do.”

Your words caused elicited a panicked look from Kun.  

“I just want to say that I love you, Kun, and I’m going to do my best tonight.”

Kun’s face softened at your words. He took your hands in his.

“I love you too, baby girl. Are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure, Kun.”

Ten just watched as you two stared into each other’s eyes for a brief moment.  

You were the first to break eye contact as you looked at Ten.

“So, what do we need to do?”

“Why don’t you both start off by telling me what you wish to see more of in your sex lives? You can share what you marked on your consent forms as well.”

You looked at your boyfriend. It was his turn to stare at his drink.

Taking the hint, Ten motioned for you to go first.  

“I guess.... I guess I wish Kun was more dominating during sex.”

Kun’s head lifted slightly.

“It’s like he’s too careful with me, you know? It’s like he’s afraid he’ll break me. When we’re out together, he’s romantic and flirty, but during sex, it’s like his confidence disappears. I’m not asking for him to go into full BDSM mode, but it would be nice if he could push me around a little more.”

Ten nods as you explain.

“Was there anything that you marked on your consent form that you’re especially interested in trying?”

“I guess the thing that stood out the most to me was the...pain play, specifically the light spanking and slapping, I guess.”

“How about you Kun?”

“Huh?” Kun seemed to have been contemplating your words.  

“What would you like to see more of when you’re having sex with Y/N?”  

A hint of panic painted Kun’s features as Ten directed the question towards him.

“No-nothing! I mean... not nothing... just... I mean... what I’m trying to say is... No... Y/N is perfect. She doesn’t need to change anything.”  Kun stuttered.

“It’s okay Kun. You can tell me. I know that I need to change too.”

“No, that’s not it.”

Kun brings his hands to your face.  

“You’re perfect. This... this is all my fault. You don’t have to change anything. I don’t want you to change anything.”

“But Kun that’s not true. I’m at fault here too. I just hope that it’s something that I can fix.”

Kun’s panicked expression morphed into a pained one.  

“What do you mean?” Ten interjected.

You took Kun’s hands off of your face and rested them onto his lap.  

“Kun struggles to... stay hard with me sometimes.”  

You were answering Ten, but you never took your eyes off your boyfriend’s.

“I see,” Ten commented.

“I try everything I can to make him feel good, but sometimes... I wonder if it has less to do with what I’m doing and more to do with... me.”

“Baby girl, of course not.” Kun wrapped his arms around you awkwardly pulling you into his chest.

“You’re perfect in every single way,” he comforted.

“But am I sexy?” You pushed him away.

“I know you love me, but are you attracted to me?”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

Kun stared into your eyes as he calculated how he should respond. After what felt like minutes, Kun broke the silence.

“I’m ready.”

“Huh?” Ten gawked.

“I said I’m ready,” Kun repeated as he got up from the barstool.

“I’m going to show you just how sexy you are, baby girl.”

You didn’t have time to feel nervous about the whole thing because next thing you knew, Kun had quite literally swept you off your feet. A small yelp of surprise shot past your lips as you instinctively wrapped your arms around Kun’s neck for security. He carried you over to the bed and laid your body down across the grey satin sheets.  

“Guys hold up. I don’t think we’ve quite covered everything we need to cover,” Ten insisted as he hurried over to you two.

“She said she wanted me to be more dominate in bed. I can do that. We can try the pain play too. What else is there to cover?”

“That’s not how it works, Kun.”

“Oh yeah?”  

Kun turned to face Ten, their vast height difference had suddenly become more apparent. You sat up and watched the two men in front of you. If you didn’t know better, it almost seemed as if Ten was intimidated by Kun.

Kun cocked his head slightly to the side.  

“Are you sure about that?” Kun growled.

You had no idea what was happening. Ten’s eyes were opened wider than you had ever thought was humanly possible. There was no mistake about it, Ten was nervous.

Kun turned back towards the bed. You couldn’t move. You were too stunned to do anything but gulp.  

Who was this man towering over you and what had he done to your boyfriend?

“K-kun,” Ten stuttered.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Kun's almost raspy voice went straight to your core.

“Kun I-”

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Kun cut you off.

“We came here to play, didn’t we?” he smirked.

Your stomach was in knots. You knew that this was what you had asked for and yet you couldn’t help but feel conflicted. If it was really this easy, then why did you have to drag Ten into your sex life? Your doubts about your boyfriend’s drastic change in character only clouded your mind for a brief moment before your body was suddenly being pinned to the mattress. Kun’s face hovered just above yours. His lustful eyes stared deeply into yours, taking in the view of you completely at his mercy.

You had never seen this side of him before. It felt like Kun had been possessed, by what, you didn’t know but you couldn’t ignore the aching feeling in the pit of your stomach.  

You turned your head towards the other man in the room. It was like you were asking permission with your eyes, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Kun. Kun released one of his hands that held your arm above your head and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him.  

“He’s not the one you need to ask, darling,” Kun instructed, reading your mind.

Every nerve in your body was on fire, the sensitivity was only heightened by Kun’s gruff and commanding voice.

“I-I...” you were too overwhelmed to say anything substantive.  

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” Kun chuckled.

You weren’t the only one who was caught off guard by Kun’s surge of dominance. Ten could only watch as Kun taunted you. He had no idea what was going on with his usually shy roommate, but he couldn’t decide whether intervening would be a smart idea or not.  

Kun released his grasp on your chin to free himself from his shirt, revealing his muscular torso.  

Despite having seen much more scandalous acts, Ten couldn’t help but stare at his roommate as he stripped. Ten felt conflicted as he debated whether it was okay for him to be there or not. Although he had done this countless times, it seemed as though the realization that you and Kun weren’t like his regular clientele had just now hit him. His breathing was hitched, and his skin had become noticeably flushed.

Was this okay?

Ten’s feelings for his roommate had been nothing but a bother to him since the beginning. When he first saw Kun standing in his doorway, he was more than a little surprised. He had been expecting a college student to come by for a house tour, but he never expected that his potential new suite mate would be this fucking hot.  

Despite his best judgement, Ten agreed to let Kun move in. Ten wasn’t the type to admit when he had fallen for someone and he figured that his schoolboy crush would disappear as quickly as it had manifested, but he was so wrong.  

When he had left for work for the first time, he walked into the living room to find a shirtless Kun similar to the one who was currently sucking on his girlfriend’s neck. After finding himself too flustered for comfort, Ten started leaving later and getting home earlier hoping to avoid his new tenant.  

Once Kun’s classes ended, Ten could no longer wait for his roommate to fall asleep before leaving for work, so he surrendered and realized that the only way to alleviate the awkwardness was to actually get to know the guy. What Ten didn’t know though, was that getting to know his roommate would only deepen his infatuation.  

Kun was probably the most uncool person Ten had ever held a conversation with and yet he was a loser in the most heart wrenchingly charming way possible. Ten couldn’t help but tease him.  

When Kun drunkenly admitted to Ten that he was bisexual, Ten knew he had to make his move, but before anything could happen, Kun went on to talk about how his sexuality was causing problems with his new girlfriend, putting a stop to any hopes Ten might have had.

Ten didn’t want to like you. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to despise you, but once he saw you in your flustered state standing in the same doorway where he had first met Kun, he couldn’t help but see how perfect you two were for each other. He also found himself being drawn to you in the same way that he had been drawn to Kun. It was like you and Kun were different versions of the same person. Ten could find no humor in the situation, only finding the urge to kick himself for his poor taste.  

And now here he was, watching you both kiss each other passionately.

Ten had only agreed to this arrangement thinking that seeing you two together would extinguish the feelings he had for Kun and the attraction he felt for you both, but even Ten had to admit that his reasoning was flawed in every sense. If anything, Ten’s feelings were increasing tenfold. As strange as It was, despite literally watching you both claw at each other, Ten’s desire to be a part of your relationship seemed almost like a realistic goal. He was literally only a few feet away from you both, after all. He knew that he couldn’t expect you both to accept him, but in this moment, Ten felt closer to that fantasy than he had ever thought possible.

Acting against his feelings, Ten continued to watch, not allowing himself to insert himself into the situation unless he absolutely had to.  

Kun had stripped both you and him of almost all your remaining clothes, not once allowing you to help. The only thing that was left were his boxers. You tried to pull those off too, but Kun wouldn’t have it. He pulled you further down the bed by your legs, causing your upper body to fall flat against the bed. Kun’s eyes never left yours for a second. Every time you broke eye contact to glance at Ten, Kun would respond by landing a sharp slap to your thighs. The slaps weren’t too painful. If anything, they only added to the circus of sensations that were going through your body.  

It felt like you were the only one who was aware of Ten’s presence. It wasn’t too uncomfortable having Ten there, but it definitely added a whole new level of kinkiness to the situation.

Kun slowly inched himself down your body, kissing it along the way. Every once in a while, his teeth would graze at your subtle skin leaving small purple marks.  

Once he had reached your core, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, keeping them in place. His lips hovered over your folds not yet giving you the pleasure of feeling his tongue glide across them. He wanted to see just how badly you wanted him and oh god, did you want him. He couldn’t believe that it had taken him this long to see you squirming under his touch. Your face was flushed a beautiful shade of red, your uneven breathing only furthered his unquenchable thirst for your wetness. He knew that your blushing skin was probably intensified just by having a third party see you in such a vulnerable state, but he didn’t mind. He enjoyed having someone there to witness the intense amount of pleasure he was about to give you. He could tell that you were getting impatient, but he could also sense your hesitation due to the third pair of eyes in the room.

Kun gave his lips one last lick before finally diving into your folds. Your hips instinctively buckled into his touch. Kun had eaten you out several times before but never like this. It was like he had been starved and eating you out was the only sustenance he had in days. The pleasure came in waves, taking over your entire body and yet you still couldn’t focus on the man whose tongue was dipping inside of you at an ungodly speed. For some reason, you were distracted by a hungry looking Ten.  

You couldn’t understand it. With Ten’s line of work, he must have seen countless couples getting it on, and yet for some reason Ten looked lustful. He was staring at you intensely as he bit his lips. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was actually enjoying watching instead of being there solely to guide the two of you. It made you feel self-conscious, but it also had another effect on you as well. You wanted him. You wanted both of them, at the same time and it killed you that you couldn’t have your way with them both.

Kun was too distracted to notice the longing stares you directed towards his roommate, and Ten was too captivated with watching you to destruct the meaning behind your eyes.  

Being watched by Ten did something to you. You could feel a familiar feeling starting to rise from the pit of your stomach. Something you hadn’t felt with Kun before, but you were definitely feeling it know. Your vision began to blur but you could still make out Ten as he watched Kun’s tongue take you over the edge. Your moans turned into squeals as you approached your high and Kun could tell that you were close. His fingers started to dip inside of your wetness as he pushed you past the point of overstimulation. Your hips tried to separate themselves from Kun’s skillful tongue, but he held you down as he pressed on. Your squeals were now screams of pleasure. The safe word had disappeared from your vocabulary and your mind was too far gone to even think of using it.  

Once your soul had returned to your twitching body and your mind was able to form coherent sentences again, you saw your boyfriend’s eyes staring into yours. They were lined with pride. You were surprised to find that you weren’t even close to tired. If anything, you wanted more. You started gripping at your boyfriend’s boxers begging for him to take them off. His prideful gaze turned into one of panic and you couldn’t understand why.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“N-nothing, I just want to do it again.”

“Kun, that was amazing in every single way, but I need to have you inside of me right now,” you begged.  

Kun looked over at Ten who appeared lost in thought. After noticing Kun’s eyes, he seemed to remember where he was and stood up a little straighter.  

“Are you shy because Ten is here?”  

Kun stayed silent.

“Kun, I’m sure Ten had seen it all before, and he’s watched us this far.”

“That’s not it...”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Your eyes traveled down Kun’s body, past his happy trail and saw what the problem was.  

“Oh my god.” you faltered.

“Baby girl, I-”

“Even after all that, you’re still not hard?”

“Baby I-”  

“So, it is me!”

If Ten were a cat, his ears would have perked up because that was definitely his que to cut in.  

“Y/N, listen,” Kun pleaded.

“No Kun, I can’t do this. You were able to change for me immediately and yet I still can’t even something as simple as turning you on. You’re not attracted to me!”

“Y/N, that’s enough.”  

Ten was standing at the foot of the bed, staring down at you and Kun.

His voice was gruff and dominating but not flirtatious in the same way that Kun’s had been earlier. It immediately shut both of you up.

Ten’s stern face only lasted for a few seconds before turning into one of exhaustion. He sighed before turning to Kun.

“Kun, it’s time to tell her,” he urged.

“Tell me what?”  

“Ten, I have no idea-”

Ten didn’t say anything, he merely scowled at Kun, but that was enough to cut him off.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, wrapping the duvet around your naked frame.

Kun flashed Ten a pleading look. The confident Kun had disappeared once again.  

“You know what, Kun? You say that you love Y/N and that you’d do anything for her, but you won’t consider opening up to her even if it might be the only way to save her the pain of blaming herself?” Ten snapped, earning a surprised look from both Kun and you.

Ten sighed in annoyance.  

“Ok, last chance. Either we are going to have an actual therapy session or you’re on your own, Kun. I should have never given you special treatment. Nobody gets to just skip out on the therapy part of sex therapy!” Ten shouted.

Kun and you looked at each other.  

“Um... what is he talking about, Kun? What’s going on here?”  

Kun looked back at Ten, then back at you, trying to think of a way out of the situation. You could see the panic in his eyes but before he could say anything, you took his hands in yours.  

“Kun, please,” you begged.  

Now it was Kun’s turn to sigh.  

“Okay, but let’s get dressed first,” he finally agreed.

<><><><><><>

After putting your clothes back on and accepting the almost humiliating situation you were in, Ten invited you both to meet him back at the bar counter.  

Despite being fully clothed, you couldn’t look Ten in the eyes, yet for some reason it felt like he couldn’t do it either.  

Kun was just staring at his hands as he twiddled his thumbs.

“Let’s hop right in, shall we?” Ten suggested.

Kun and you stayed silent while Ten continued.

“Kun, I think you should tell y/n about what happened the night you two met.”

Your head lifted up, curious about what Ten meant.  

Kun took a deep breath and looked up at both Ten and you.  

“Take your time,” Ten instructed.  

“We have all the time in the world.”

Kun’s gaze left yours and returned back to his hands.  

Taking one last breath, Kun began relaying the events of that night.

“The night we met, before you had run into me, I had just left a hotel.”

You did your best to hold back any surprise from showing. You could tell that whatever Kun was about to tell you would be hard for him, so you didn’t want any judgement to show in your features.  

“I started questioning my sexuality a few months before that night and I didn’t really understand what was going on with me. I had always known I liked women, but I had started noticing these feelings of attraction whenever I was around a certain kind of guy. I didn’t really understand what these feelings were because no one ever really talked about how bisexuality was a thing, so I was afraid that I was turning gay.”

You nodded as Kun explained.

“One night, a friend of mine told me that if I really wanted to understand these feelings, I should go out and explore them, so I went to a gay bar. At the bar, I met this guy who told me his name was Winwin because he’d always ‘win win.’ It was a horrible line, but I recognized that he was Chinese from his accent, so I kept talking to him. It comforting having someone who I could talk to in Chinese, especially given how foreign everything else in that bar felt. I guess I also got a little carried away and had a few too many drinks hoping they would calm my nerves. I wasn’t drunk, but I was definitely not sober which is probably why when Winwin asked me to go to a hotel with him, I said yes.”

Kun looked back up at you, checking your reaction before going on.  

“When we got to the room, I didn’t know what to expect, but I didn’t really have time to think about it before Winwin started kissing me and taking his clothes off. It wasn’t until we were both naked that I had the guts to tell him that I had never had sex with a man before. I remember that when I told him, he took a step back. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he told me that he would be extra gentle with stretching me out and that he would go slowly until I got used to it. Of course, I was confused but when I asked what he meant, he just told me that he had never topped an anal virgin before but that he would try to make it as painless as possible. That was when I realized that Winwin expected me to be the bottom, something I definitely was not comfortable with, but Winwin had told me that he was solely a top. I didn’t know what to do at that point and looking back, Winwin probably would have understood if I had just told him I wasn’t comfortable being the bottom, but in that moment, I felt like had to do whatever it took to figure out what my feelings towards men were... so I agreed.”

Kun was trembling slightly but his continued his story. You wanted to reach out towards him, but it didn’t feel right to interrupt his story at this point.  

“It was painful, but that wasn’t what made it so horrible. It was like my masculinity was being taken from me and I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. I left the hotel room as soon as Winwin fell asleep and was planning to go home when I ran into you. I know I should have felt bad for you since you had obviously been crying, but if I’m being honest, I was comforted by the fact that someone else was having a night just as bad as mine, which is why I invited you to coffee.”

The room stayed silent for minutes after Kun finished his story. Neither Ten nor you felt comfortable having the first word after hearing Kun go over the events from that night.

“I guess I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t know how you would react to hearing about my sexuality and also... I haven’t really been able to feel confident in myself as a man after what happened with Winwin.”

“You see Y/N? It’s not that Kun isn’t attracted to you, it’s that Kun has been doubting himself ever since that night, not just sexually but he’s been doubting everything about himself in general,” Ten explained.  

You had felt horrible. After all this time, you thought that you were to blame for your sex life but really, your boyfriend was going through something and you had no idea whatsoever. You had to say something.

“Kun, I don’t care that you’re bisexual. I love you.”

“I know it’s stupid because being bisexual/gay or bottoming doesn’t make anyone less of a man, but it’s different when it’s yourself, you know?” Kun sighed.  

You took a deep breath before responding.  

“Yeah, you’re right... It took years before I felt comfortable enough to admit that I was bisexual, even to myself.”

Kun’s gaze shot towards yours.  

“What?”  

“I’m bisexual, Kun. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was worried that you wouldn’t accept me if you knew.”

Kun got off of his chair and embraced you in his arms.

“What are you talking about? Of course, that wouldn’t change how I felt towards you!”

“Ahem,” Ten coughed.  

Kun released his hold on you to look at Ten.

“So, you’re saying that Y/N being bisexual doesn’t change how you feel about her, and I know for a fact that my bisexuality doesn’t bug you either, so why would your being bisexual change how she sees you?” Ten pointed out.

“Wow, it really sounds stupid when you phrase it like that,” Kun commented.

“It’s not stupid, Kun. Everyone goes through it. Insecurities don’t have to be logical, but you do.” Ten responded.  

“Now that Y/N knows and accepts you, you need to work on getting over your fears about how people will respond to you being bi or having bottomed. Oh, and by the way, you can be a bottom and still be a top,” Ten lectured.  

“Although you are 100% a top,” he added.

“How can you tell?” you asked.

Ten turned to Kun, looking him up and down.

“Oh, I can just tell,” he chuckled.  

“I don’t know if that was an insult or a compliment,” Kun muttered.

“And what are you?” you asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ten winked.  

Kun laughed before turning back to you.

“How could I have not noticed that you were bi?” he asked.  

“Same way that I couldn’t tell that you were,” you shrugged.

“How long have you known?” Kun inquired.

“Since I was a teenager. I’ve always known that I was attracted to feminine qualities, but I wasn’t able to admit that I liked women until I was in college. If I’m being honest, when I first saw Ten, I kind of thought he was a bisexual’s wet dream.”

Kun and Ten shot glances at each other.

“What do you mean?” Kun hesitated.

“Kun, I love you and I will always be loyal to you, but Ten is so pretty and so androgynous looking that I didn’t know whether I was jealous of him or wanted to fuck him.”

I turned to Ten.

“No offense.”

“No offense taken,” He smirked.

“I know I should probably feel jealous hearing that my girlfriend thought my roommate was hot, but... since we’re being honest...” Kun started,

“What? No way!” you raved, watching your boyfriend rub the back of his neck in embarrassment.  

Kun smiled awkwardly in response while Ten looked like he was in the middle of a mental breakdown.

“What can I say? You’re a good-looking guy. Some might even say a bisexual’s wet dream,” Kun offered.

Ten’s eyes were bulged, and he tried to look anywhere but at you or Kun.  

“Well then, I guess you both are going to be alright after all,” Ten coughed still avoiding eye contact.  

“You know Kun, I wouldn’t mind you exploring your sexuality while we’re together,” you commented.

“What? Really?” Kun exclaimed.

“Yeah, as long as you’re happy and honest with me, I wouldn’t mind you having sex with other people, as long as I get to meet them, and they understood what was going on.”

“What do you mean?” Kun asked.

“Well... this might be super inappropriate...” you explained turning towards Ten.

“but I really wouldn’t mind if Ten wanted to join us every once in a while.”

Ten’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his skull as the panic in him increased.  

“I-I umm....”

“Maybe I read it wrong, but it seemed as though you were watching us with something more than just psychological curiosity in your eyes,” you smirked, enjoying how the confident Ten, was panicking like a child who had been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.  

Kun glanced at Ten who kept stuttering trying to come up with an excuse.  

“You know, looking back on it, you didn’t really give us that much direction. Wanna try again?” Kun teased having regained his confidence.  

After seeing both you and Kun smirking at him, Ten quickly realized what was going on.  

“Fine, I’m up for anything. You aren’t my clients after all, but are you sure that you both know what you’re getting yourselves into?” He taunted having suddenly lost all trace of the panic he had been drowning in only a moment ago.

You and Kun gulped in unison having suddenly lost your feelings of confidence.  

“Oh, come on now, you two. Cat got your tongues?” Ten challenged, lighting a fire in Kun.

“I’m ready if you are,” Kun told Ten in a voice too mischievous for your liking before they both turned to face you.

What had you gotten yourself into?

Kun quickly stood up and grabbed your chin with one hand, the other slowly moving down your back.  

“Hey, Ten?” Kun quirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Yes?”  

“What were the things that Y/N checked yes to on her consent form?”  

You didn’t need to see Ten to hear the smirk in his voice.

“Impact play, choking, gagging, punishment play, marking, bondage, being dominated, light humiliation, slight masochism, the list goes on. It looks like we have a little slut on our hands. Oh! And look at this. Exhibitionism? Tsk tsk tsk. No wonder she was so open to having me here tonight,” Ten cooed.

“I-I um, AH!” Before you could explain yourself, Kun had lifted you into his arms and was carrying you back to the bed.  

Ten slowly strutted towards you both, only drawing further attention to his catlike walk.  

“Do you want this, Y/N?” Ten asked, slowly licking his lips.

You found yourself struggling to answer. You were so caught off guard by this sudden change in power dynamics but that only excited you. The thought of having both of them together seemed so unreal but you couldn’t imagine letting this opportunity pass you by.  

You nodded.

“Y-ye-”

“Use your words, baby girl,” Kun instructed.  

“Y-yes, I want it.”

“Wow, Kun. I knew your girlfriend was kinky from the way she screamed your name earlier, but I had no idea she’d be this... Well, this excited,” Ten taunted.

“I know. Such a dirty girl, wanting to be with two men at the same time.”

“What do you think we should do first?” Ten pondered, tapping his fingers on his cheek in a thinking gesture.

“What would the professional suggest we do? It’s only fair that we follow the expert’s instruction.”  

“Hmmm...” Ten hummed as he took the spot next to you on the bed.

“Well, we can’t do much fully clothed, now can we?” he laughed.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Kun growled as he pinned you onto the bed.  

Ten stayed seated as he watched Kun do everything but rip your clothes off.  

As soon as the cool air hit your skin, your body trembled under the eyes of the two men. It wasn’t the first time either of them had seen you naked, but this time felt different. You tried to cover your breasts with the satin duvet, only for Kun to pull you out from underneath it by your legs. You let out a small gasp as your upper body hit the bed.  

“Don’t be rude baby girl, I went through all of that trouble to undress you just so you could hide that beautiful body of yours from our guest?”

“Isn’t it time you teach your girlfriend some manners, Kun?” Ten suggested, biting his bottom lip.

He couldn’t help but wear a hungry expression as his eyes grazed over your exposed frame.  

“You’re right.”

Kun lifted his own shirt over his head and there wasn’t much that you could do to stop yourself from staring and by the looks of it, neither could Ten.  

“You don’t mind if Y/N and I test out the therapy you’ve given us, right?” Kun asked, more flirtatious than serious.  

“Please do,” Ten answered, amused by the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn with both of us,” Kun assured, taking off his jeans.

He was calm yet he was barely able to hold back his excitement and so were his boxers from the looks of it.

You didn’t have time to feel any relief from seeing the tent in your boyfriend’s boxers since all you could think about was how good his hands felt as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs. You let a squeal fall past your mouth.  

“What’s wrong baby girl? We haven’t even gotten started and yet you’re already squealing under my touch?”

Kun loved seeing you wriggle underneath him as he trapped your body underneath his. His hands moved from your thighs up your stomach, past your breasts and stopped when they reached yours. His fingers interlocked with yours as he lowered himself onto you. His face hovered above yours for a brief second, his eyes staring into yours. The thought, “he looks hungry” was the only thing that crossed your mind before he dived into the crook of your neck.  

His lips caressed your skin, and nothing could take away the pleasure of having his teeth sink into your sweet spot.  

“K-kun,” you half whimpered half moaned his name.  

You opened your eyes to see Ten looking down at you as Kun attacked your neck with his mouth. He watched in amusement knowing fully well that you didn’t have the power to turn away from him. You could only close your eyes, but you didn’t even know if you could do that. Ten’s eyes were hypnotic. They locked with yours and although you were intimidated, you didn’t want him to look away.  

“Are you enjoying yourself Y/N?” he asked prompting Kun to remove his lips from your neck.  

Kun smiled in at the sight of your bruised neck. He could make out the outline of his teeth marks in your darkening skin. He wiped the saliva from his lips and brought his hand to your mouth.  

“If you’re not going to answer, then why don’t you use that mouth of yours for something more useful?” Kun growled as his thumb entered your mouth. He moved his index finger under your chin and pressed his thumb onto your tongue, forcing you to look up at him. You tried to turn away only for him to press harder.

Kun let out an amused chuckle. He didn’t mind if you fought back a little bit especially since he knew how willing you were.  

“How bad do you want him, Y/N? How bad do you want Kun’s cock in your mouth?” Ten taunted.

You tried to answer him, but your words came out muffled and gargled from the pressure on your tongue.

“Tho bag,” you tried.

“What did you say?” Ten quirked slyly.

“I wanit tho bag,” you repeated.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand what the little slut is saying,” he continued.  

“Hmmm, well I guess she doesn’t want it,” Kun smirked.  

“Only good girls get to suck on daddy’s cock.”

“Daddy?” Ten laughed, almost ruining the mood.  

“What?” Kun demanded accusingly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing, I just never pegged you for the daddy type,” Ten mocked.  

“I’m just doing it because it was on her sheet,” Kun explained.

“Umm, no it wasn’t,” Ten cracked up.

“Shut up. Yeah it was.”

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t, daddy!”  

There was a teasing whine in Ten’s voice as he jokingly called Kun daddy.

Kun’s grip on your jaw stayed firm as his left hand shot towards Ten’s. Currently gripping both of your jawlines Kun flashed Ten a devious look.  

Ten had suddenly fallen silent and looked almost fearful as Kun stared into his soul.  

“Cat got your tongue?” Kun taunted, repeating the phrase Ten had used earlier that night.  

Ten looked down before returning to meet Kun’s almond shaped eyes with his big round ones.  

“Sorry, daddy,” he mused, having started cracking up again.  

Kun rolled his eyes and turned back to you.  

“How about you?” he asked, releasing his hold on your jawline.  

“No, daddy.”

Both Kun and Ten looked at you in surprise.

All humor had left Ten’s face and a grin had made its way onto Kun’s.

You didn’t know why, you had never thought about calling any man daddy, not even your actual father, but for some reason when the word fell past your lips... it felt... right. It was like the word was made for him and him alone.  

Kun stood up from the bed. That one little word was all it took to have him pulling you up by the arm and pushing you down in front of him. Falling to your knees, your hands found themselves grabbing his thighs in order to keep you from going too far forward. Finding your composure, you looked up at Kun and then towards Ten expecting words of approval.

“Ah ah ah,” Kun tsked, grabbing a fist full of your hair and turning your face away from the raven-haired man who was still sitting on the bed.  

“Don’t look to him for permission. I’m the one who daddy’s little girl needs to get permission from, got it?”  

You nodded in agreement only for the grip on your hair to get tighter.

“Ah! I mean, yes, daddy.”  

“Good girl. Now what did you need permission for?”  

“C-can I suck daddy’s cock?”  

Kun paused before answering.  

“Hmm. I don’t know. I don’t think you really deserve my cock. After all, you haven’t exactly been the most well-behaved little girl, now have you?”

“Please, daddy! Please let me suck your cock,” you pleaded starting to blush from being the only one in the room fully naked.

Kun bent down so that he was at your level before harshly pinching one of your breasts with his thumb and index finger.  

You let out a yelp.  

“What do you think, Ten? Has Y/N been good enough to deserve my cock?”

“Oh, she deserves it alright, but I don’t think it’s from being good,” Ten responded.

“I think that that she’s been acting too much like a whore this evening and deserves a big punishment.”

Kun grinned deviously at Ten’s suggestion. Standing back up, Kun slid his boxers down his built thighs.

“Open,” he commanded.

You did as you were told, not expecting it when Kun slammed his entire length down past your lips. You stifled a gag as he hit the back of your throat.  

Kun’s moans filled the room as he thrust himself into your mouth.  

“Oh god, Y/N,” he softly panted.

You had blown Kun several times before but tonight, with everything that had happened, Kun was fully hard and you struggled to keep your mouth opened wide enough to take him in all at once. You could feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes as he started to thrust faster. You weren’t able to react when a pair of hands grabbed yours and held them behind your back.  

A pair of lips found themselves tracing your shoulders. Ten had managed to keep your hands restrained with one hand while the other explored your body. The soft caresses were more than enough to bring your attention to the building wetness that had started dripping down your folds. Once his teeth buried themselves into your nape the vibrations from your whines only worked to bring Kun closer to the edge.  

“Ah, god! Fuck!"  

A string of curses fell past Kun’s plump lips as thick ropes of cum poured down your throat. You struggled to swallow it all especially as Kun continued to shakily thrust down your abused throat.  

Removing himself from your mouth, Kun admired the strings of saliva and cum that still connected his cock to your lips. Seeing your fucked-out face made him worry about having maybe been too rough with his little princess but the way you licked your lips and stuck out your tongue, revealing to him that you managed to swallow every bit of his seed only made him want to be even rougher. He would also be the first to admit that he loved watching his roommate restrain his girlfriend’s hands as he fucked her face. Just the thought of it made him hard again.

Kun gave you little time to rest before he hoisted you back up onto the bed.  

You prepared yourself for what was coming next, but you were surprised when Kun had listed Ten up as well. Kun desperately smashed his lips onto Ten’s. Their first kiss was a sloppy mess of teeth and tongue but that didn’t stop them. Kun lifted Ten’s shirt over his head and arms revealing the soft but toned muscles underneath. He looked exactly like how you would have expected him to, fit but still feminine. He wasn’t as muscular as Kun in the least, but he didn’t have to be. His body was alluring in its own way. You had the insatiable urge to touch it, to feel his skin’s softness for your own but Kun was already engulfing his petite frame, leaving a trail of marks from him neck to where Kun was currently struggling to unfasten Ten’s belt.  

You watched as Kun practically tore Ten’s jeans from his lower body. Ten smirked almost sassily as Kun reached his boxers. You were actually surprised to see Ten’s length, you expected it to be smaller than Kun’s massiveness, but to say he wasn’t gifted would be far from the truth.  

Kun didn’t hesitate in touching Ten’s body in the slightest which was relieving to see, but you couldn’t focus on the progress your boyfriend had made in only one night since what was happening in front of you was way too hot to think about anything else.  

Kun licked a long strip going from the base of Ten’s cock to the head before taking the tip into his mouth. Kun swirled his tongue around knowing that in the past, he always enjoyed it when you did the same to him.  

Ten groaned softly, letting Kun know that he was enjoying the action. Before Kun could take Ten’s length further into his mouth, Ten brushed his hand over his cheek.  

“Small steps, okay?” Ten whispered.

Kun nodded before Ten sat up against the bed frame.  

They both turned to you, their shared smirks informing you that your short break had come to an end.  

“Uh oh,” you gulped almost afraid of the inherent lust that filled their gazes.  

Their eyes drifted over your nervous figure. Your disheveled state only added to their wanting.  

Ten couldn’t help but think of this as one of the most beautiful sights he had ever laid eyes on. He could only Imagine what you would look like bouncing on Kun’s thick cock, but Kun had his own plans.

Kun grabs your waist and instructs you to turn over. With your arms keeping your body steady and your ass up, Kun positions himself at your entrance. Soft mewls escape your mouth as he rubs the head of his cock against your clit only dipping far enough past your folds to wet the tip.  

You whine in frustration at his teasing actions only to earn a harsh slap on your ass.

“Aaahhh,” you hissed, feeling a mixture of pain and pleasure.

The stinging sensations that lingered only added to the aching you felt. The need to be filled was almost overwhelming, yet you knew complaining would only prolong your feelings of emptiness.

“Please, Kun,” you whimper.  

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” you begged.

Kun paused, reveling in your needy state.

“Please Kun. I need you. I need you inside of me. I want to feel you. I’ll do anything. Please!”

“Hmmm. I don’t know,” he mused.

Desperate to feel any form of relief, your hand snaked its way to your twitching womanhood, only for Ten to pull both of your arms out from under you, your face now pressed into the pillow. Kun lands yet another slap onto your ass, this one stinging more than the first.  

“Wanna try that again sweetheart?” Kun asked, almost daring you to defy him, to see what would happen if you did.  

“Your breathing was uneven. The frustration was starting to take over.

“Please, Kun. Please!” you cried, tears starting to fall down your cheeks.  

Kun felt conflicted. One on hand, he hated to see his baby girl cry, but on the other, he had never seen you this needy for his cock before.  

Without any warning, Kun slammed his entire length into your tight cunt. Your mind, which had been going crazy out of frustration, was now more fragmented and useless than you had ever thought possible.

Kun’s nails dug into the bright red marks that were covering your ass cheeks. Ten groaned at the sight of you turning into a moaning mess as Kun fucked you in front of him, your tits bouncing wildly with each thrust. It was all too much for him, he had seen some kinky shit, but just the thought of getting to have a turn with you both made everything feel so much more elated. He couldn’t help himself.

“Come on Kun, is that all you got?” Ten teased.  

“I thought you were daddy Kun, not mommy Kun!”

Motivated by Ten’s playful words, Kun picked you up by your arms and moved both of your bodies so that you were lying on top of Kun while he continued to thrust into you even harder. Your moans which had not been quiet in the least had suddenly turned into a mixture of whimpers and screams.

“How does it feel, Y/N?” Ten asked, now focusing on you.  

His voice was innocent but the look on his face could have gone come from a demon.

“How does it feel being fucked by daddy’s cock?”

“I-it... it feels.”

“He asked you a question, baby girl. Answer it,” Kun ordered, increasing intensity.  

The sound of his skin slapping into yours should have been enough to wake any possible neighbors even with the soundproof walls, but you didn’t care. Your mind was gone at this point, but your voice was anything but. Fireworks filled the pit of your stomach and your arousal was dripping down your thighs, covering Kun’s cock with your essence. Nothing could you stop you from reaching your high except Kun stopping. You knew you needed to answer him, but you didn’t know if you were even capable of doing so. The closer you got to your release the farther gone you felt. Even if it took all of your energy, you knew what you had to do.  

That was.. until Ten had positioned himself in between your and Kun’s legs. You were unaware of this sudden change in position until Ten’s tongue met your clit. An electric shock moved through you as Ten started bobbing his head so that he could lick both you and Kun simultaneously.  

“IT FEELS.... SO G-”

The insane amounts of pleasure clouded your mind and you swore you could see stars. You couldn’t tell if you were screaming or silent and you didn’t care. Let the neighbors hear. Let the whole world hear how amazing you feel.  

The last sensations you remembered was the uncontrollable shaking of your body and the black dots that filled your vision.  

<><><><><><>

"Y/N? Y/N? Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Your eyes opened to see both Kun and Ten staring down at you.  

“W-what happened?”  

“You passed out,” Ten answered matter of factly.

Kun, who looked significantly more worried than Ten, took you in for a hug.  

“Oh thank god, you’re alright.”

“I told you she would be fine. This kind of thing happens all the time. You know, you should really be more proud and less worried,” Ten sighed, handing you a bottle of water from the bar fridge.  

“Thank you,” you mouthed to Ten.  

“Are you sure you’re okay baby girl? I’ll take you to the hospital, just say the word.”

“I’m fine, Kun. I’m just tired. What happened after I passed out?”

“This one freaked out,” Ten relayed, pointing at Kun.

“He was so worried, he though he broke you with his dick even though, if anything, I broke you with my tongue.”

“You didn’t finish without me?”

Ten and Kun shared a smile before turning back to me.

“Of course not,” Kun assured.

“Yeah to be honest, it would be kind of weird if we kept going with you passed out on the bed,” Ten joked.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized.

“Don’t be,” Ten laughed.

“We made a lot of progress tonight and besides, anything we didn’t do tonight we can explore next time.”

“Next time?” you and Kun asked in unison.

Ten’s smile faltered slightly.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I just assumed.”

“No!” Kun and you shouted.

“We would love for there to be a next time,” Kun mumbled, having suddenly become shy.

“That is... if you’ll have us,” you finished.  

Ten put his hand to his chin as if he were seriously thinking about it.

Neither you nor Kun could help but feel anxiety awaiting his response.  

“Yeah sure, why not?” Ten answered finally.  

You wrapped your arms around Ten and pulled him back onto the bed with you and Kun.  

“I mean it wasn’t that bad, I guess. Kun could have performed a bit better,” Ten taunted as Kun punched him in the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“Nothing,” Kun smirked before wrapping his arms around the two most important people in his life.  

[jetsetlife138]

Imaginary - Chapter 4

Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Suggestive language, explicit language

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3

Note: Just a reminder to my uninformed and curious folks out there: Asexuals can become aroused.  Asexuals can have the desire to become aroused. Asexuals can enjoy being aroused.  Asexuals can take steps to becoming aroused.  Asexuals can be aroused by someone else.  Asexuals can be curious about arousal.  Asexuals can alternatively have no interest in arousal.  Asexuality doesn’t mean that you are celibate and have no interest in sex. Do yourself a favor and do some research. Talk to your ace friends. Trust me, they’re more than happy to educate you on that subject.  Brace yourselves for another fun-filled chapter! 

Looking back, acting so aggressively towards the infamous demon was probably not the smartest plan. It may have been a bit premature to assume that he was making any kind of sexual advances towards you. After all, he never really confirmed that was his intention. You may have just dug yourself into an even deeper hole. 

Then again… you wouldn’t put it past him considering how he carried himself and also by the way Angel Dust encouraged more illicit behavior. Even with the small amount of time that you had spent with him, it was obvious that the Radio Demon was an opportunist, and also a crafty bastard who got off on manipulating others for his own personal gain. You had wondered if there was a part of him that genuinely wanted to help Charlie with the hotel, or if he had any ulterior motives. Maybe Vaggie had the right idea about him after all. 

Whatever the case, you had to be smart about this. You weren’t going to get anywhere by being so negative. However, it was also important to brace yourself for any impending threat, especially considering that you were, after all, in Hell. Cartoon or not, this place was filled with evil creatures, and you had to watch your back. 

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself to leave the safety of your room, equally curious and terrified of what would await you in this mysterious land. Stepping out into the hall, you took a moment to really look around, admiring the creepy hotel structure as well as the art on the wall. Painting of strange beings lined the halls in old, corroded frames. You weren’t sure if the creatures on the canvas were important historical figures, or if they were just members of Charlie’s family. Either way, they were haunting. 

Hearing a commotion downstairs, you decided to go and investigate. Following the noises, you had eventually found yourself in a large room where Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel Dust were gathered together, bickering about something with an odd, furry cat demon who was positioned behind the bar next to them with an annoyed look on his face. 

Upon seeing you enter, Charlie cut the conversation short, forcing a nervous grin. “Oh, hey there! How’s it going?”

Keeping your expression neutral, you replied, “I’m hanging in there, thanks. Am I interrupting something?” 

“Not at all!” she assured you, clearly deflecting. “We were just, uh… discussing tactics to get you home. It would help if we had a little more to go off of. Can you tell us more about you?”

“Just ask Alastor,” Angel suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. “The two a them were gettin’ real familiar upstairs. I’m sure he’d be happy to fill you in.”

“Um. What?” Vaggie snapped, her expression equally enraged and horrified. 

Glaring at the spider-demon, he merely blew a kiss at you in return before snickering fiendishly, eager to see how this would play out. 

“He came to my room after the two of you left,” you admitted, noting the nervous glances between Charlie and Vaggie. “It wasn’t a big deal. We just talked.” 

“Oh, honey,” Angel began. “You was doin’ a lot more than that. These walls talk, babe. And these walls told me they saw you two in bed together.”

Oh, fuck. Not good. 

Charlie looked horrified  while Vaggie seemed to be on the brink of a conniption. “No, no, no, it wasn’t like that,” you urged, putting them slightly at ease. “He was trying to help me.” 

“How is being in bed together helpful to your cause?” Vaggie pressed, clearly not buying it. 

“He did something to me… I’m not even sure. He said that he could help me and then he put his hand on my head. Next thing I know, I’m blacking out. I woke up later in the bed, and he just happened to be lying next to me. That’s it.”

Angel Dust rolled his eyes, crossing one set of his arms in disbelief while Vaggie pursed her lips in a disappointed manner. Charlie took a moment to find her words before she asked, “What exactly did he do to you?”

“Apparently, he could see inside my head. By looking through my memories he could see what my world looked like. I’m not sure how that’s beneficial. Maybe he just wanted to see if I was telling the truth. He didn’t say. He’s… weird.” 

“That’s an understatement,” Vaggie murmured, earning a chuckle from the cat-demon behind the bar. 

“Was that all?” Charlie inquired curiously. 

“Yeah, toots. Was that all?” Angel teased, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Ugh, he was going to be the death of you. 

“He tried to make a deal with me,” you finally divulged. 

“Hijo de puta,” Vaggie seethed, baring her teeth in anger. 

Swallowing thickly, Charlie asked, “What kind of deal?” 

Shrugging your shoulders awkwardly, you replied, “If he succeeded in somehow returning me to my world, he wanted me to take him with me. I guess he thinks my world would be entertaining for him.” 

You glanced at Angel, knowing that he was well aware of the other services that Alastor allegedly offered you. Pleading with your eyes, you hoped that he would take pity on you and keep his mouth shut just this once. 

A smirk graced his lips as he considered your silent request. Much to your relief, he kept quiet. You’d probably pay for that later, but it was worth it to avoid more horrified expressions from the others. 

Charlie wrung her hands together nervously while Vaggie approached you, worrying her lip. “Please tell me that you didn’t make a deal with him.” 

“No!” you confirmed, shaking your head. “Of course not. I barely know him.”

“You gonna give her a history lesson? Looks like I’m not the only one around here who isn’t familiar with the Strawberry Pimp,” Angel drawled, now apparently bored of the topic. 

Rolling her eyes, Vaggie sighed with exasperation. “Alright, look. No one knows how he’s accomplished so much since arriving in Hell. Overlords that have ruled Hell for centuries were no match against him. To prove his dominance and establish a reputation, Alastor pretty much massacred anyone who posed as a threat to his power. He broadcasted his carnage all throughout Hell, the mere savagery of his slaughters attesting to his abilities. That’s how he got his name, “The Radio Demon”. How original, right?” she jeered. 

Furrowing your brows, you continued to listen intently. “It’s still unclear as to how he attained the power to overthrow our world’s most ancient and devastating evils, but it’s evident that he's a nefarious demon and dangerously unpredictable--capable of unimaginable destruction.”

Holy fuck. You knew he was dangerous, but you had no idea what he was actually capable of. And you had the audacity to berate him. 

Struggling to keep from trembling, you asked, “So… if he’s so dangerous, why are you partnering with him?” 

Charlie smiled timidly, trying to maintain her optimistic demeanor. “He offered his expertise because he supports what we’re trying to do here!” 

“You cannot possibly believe that,” you countered skeptically. 

“I don’t,” Vaggie barked back, scowling. “I want nothing to do with him.”

“Vaggie, come on,” Charlie implored. “We’ve been over this. We’ve got to at least give him a chance. Everyone is capable of redemption. He hasn’t done anything to hurt us or the hotel. He could be the best thing to happen to this place. Other than you,” she finished with a smile, earning a flirtatious eye roll from her girlfriend. 

“You could always try commanding him to leave,” Angel taunted. “I’d like to see how Hell’s princess pairs up against Hell’s most powerful demon.” 

It was then you remembered hearing her mention that she was a princess the day before when she had saved you from the mob. In all of the calamity, it had completely slipped your mind. “Wait, so you’re actually a princess?” you asked. “How does that work?”

“Jesus, you really are from another world, aren’t you?” Angel interjected, reaching for a drink at the bar. “Ever hear of Lucifer? The Big Bad of Hell?”

Nodding your head, Angel then pointed to Charlie. “That’s his kid.” 

Your eyes were probably the size of baseballs as you stared at Charlie, completely at a loss for words. “It’s really not a big deal,” she assured you, her face flushed with embarrassment, which only added to her already rosy cheeks. 

“Wait, you’ve been here for less than a day. How do you even know about Lucifer?” Vaggie questioned. 

“I mean… I don’t know about your Lucifer,” you clarified, trying to find the right way to explain yourself. “In my world, Lucifer isn’t an actual person. He’s more of a myth, or a religious figure, depending on who you ask. There’s stories about him and no one knows if he actually existed. He’s always been portrayed as evil incarnate. He brought sin to the world and God cast him down into Hell. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”

“Interesting,” Vaggie commented, pressing a finger to her lips inquisitively. “Your world’s version of him isn’t too far off. Rest assured, he’s real. And he’s not really a fan of our business.” 

“Yet,” Charlie corrected her. 

“Yet,” Vaggie agreed, grinning slightly. 

“Wow,” you huffed, trying to comprehend everything. 

“I know that this is probably a lot for you to take in,” Charlie sympathized, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, but we’re going to help you. All of us.” 

“Speak for yourself,” the cat-demon commented before taking a swig of his booze. 

“Oh! I forgot to introduce you! This is Husk. He’s a friend of Alastor’s--”

“I ain’t his friend!” he barked back, seething. “That stupid son of a bitch dragged me in here outta nowhere! I’m just biding my time until the booze runs out.”

“Got it,” you acknowledged, thoroughly enjoying his callousness. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“I can’t say the same,” he grumbled, reaching for a new bottle of alcohol after pitching the old, empty bottle behind him. 

Clapping her hands together, Charlie quickly changed the subject. “Right! Let’s get started! What can you tell us about how you got here?” 

It was mostly a blur, but you tried your best to concentrate and remember exactly what had happened. “I was out with my friends and we had passed by this old thrift shop,” you began, trying to recall the details. “It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I was looking around and saw an old television set on display. It looked like it was at least fifty years old, still in prime condition. I love that kind of retro stuff. I remember grabbing the remote for the t.v. to see if it still worked. I pressed the power button, and bam!” You threw your hands up dramatically for affect. “That’s the last thing I remember.” 

Charlie hummed in thought, looking to Vaggie for her input. “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” the moth-demon thought aloud. “Could it have been cursed?”

“That kind of stuff doesn’t exist in my world,” you countered. “Magic and curses and stuff… none of that is real. It’s all mythical.” 

“If none a that stuff is real, how do you explain this place, sugartits?” Angel chimed in, cackling. 

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t sure how to explain your situation. “I… I don’t know,” you stammered. “Maybe magic is real. Or maybe it’s something other than magic. Of course, there’s always the very real possibility that I’m just insane and all of this is in my head.” 

“Oh, no, my dear,” an eerily familiar voice resounded ominously throughout the room. “I’ve been in your head, and I can assure you… you’re as sane as I am.”

Everyone was looking around frantically, wondering where Alastor was hiding. Moments later, a shadow appeared on the floor close to your feet, causing you to jump back and yelp as it grew rapidly until the Radio Demon himself materialized next to you, grinning widely. You briefly caught the glares and nervous expressions from the others out of the corner of your eye as he loomed over you. Wincing at his misguided assurance, you replied, “Great. That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Ha! I do so enjoy your brazen disposition,” he jeered boisterously.

Your automatic response was to bite back with an aggressive jab, but after hearing what he was capable of, you instead avoided his gaze as you fought back the urge to antagonize him.

Immediately picking up on your hesitance, he carefully gauged your reaction as he stepped closer to you. “Now, now, darling. No need to muzzle yourself.” He then reached forward to place one of his slender fingers under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. It took everything you had to remain still and maintain eye contact rather than smack his hand away. 

Baring his teeth in a leering smile, his eyes morphed into intimidating red slits as he purred softly. “We are going to have so much fun.” Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88

[sserpente]

A/N: Thought I’d throw this in between all the requests. Enjoy, my lovelies!

Words: 1820 Warnings: almost drowning, mentions of bad parenting… and loooooads of fluff

It’s cold, it’s winter, I’m covered in snow… it’s cold, it’s winter, I’m covered in snow… You repeated the pleasant thought like a mantra as you took one deep breath after another, your bare feet dancing in the cool water of Tony’s pool.

You had run out of iced tea again; and sweat was pooling down your neck like a water flow. The sounds the water made whenever one of the Avengers swam by were heavenly. Not only once had you dipped your hands in up to your wrists and scooped some of it up to pour it all over your body. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

You longed to jump right in yourself, to cool down in the singeing heat around you. Even Loki was there—and secretly watching him how he swam and dived, watching how his muscles kept flexing and how his pale and well-defined chest was shimmering with the wet film on his skin didn’t exactly help.

It was just… you couldn’t swim. You simply had… never gotten around to learn it and your parents hadn’t exactly cared, thank you very much. Now Tony’s pool was deep and unless you swam, you would sink to the ground like a lifeless rock.

Nobody knew, of course. It was… embarrassing. A (Y/A) year old woman, unable to swim! And thus far, no one had but teased you a little bit about avoiding the water like a terrified kitten even though they probably wondered why you did so in the first place.

You were about to stand and get a refill from your iced tea when suddenly, a large shadow was cast over you. Squinting up, you made out Thor standing right behind you, hands on his hips and a big grin on his lips. He was all wet, his beard still dripping.

“Come on, (Y/N), the water is wonderful. You’re not going to sit here again all day, are you? Get in!”

Smiling politely, you shook your head. “I’d rather not. I’m not exactly a water lover.”

But Thor’s grin only widened in response. Chuckling, he bent down, picking you up effortlessly.

“Thor, no! Stop it, put me down, now! Thor! Thor, please stop!” Heads turned in your direction, the present Avengers—Tony and Natasha—grinning in an amused manner and unknowing of how much you were panicking. Your heart was in your mouth when you dug your nails into his shoulders, anything to prevent him from throwing you into the pool. You couldn’t see what Loki thought of your hysterical screaming but quite frankly, you were busy. And of course, Thor was much stronger than you.

He laughed when he let go and threw you like a light-weighted piece of wood—right in the middle of the pool where there was nothing for you to hold on to. For a moment, ice cold anxiety washed over your body, wrapping around your veins, freezing your blood, making you immobile. Your whole body was underwater, your lungs filling with water as you accidentally took a deep and shocked breath out of reflex. Once you burst through the surface, you gasped for air fearfully, your arms and legs wailing helplessly in the cool wetness around you until suddenly, your felt one of your feet brushing something—or rather someone. Next thing you knew you already practically attempted to climb on top of Loki. Anything to keep your head above water.

Thor was nowhere to be seen. Did he have the audacity to just leave without checking on you? You knew he had meant it as a joke, he couldn’t have known why you avoided the pool in the first place but he should have listened to you when you said no.

Loki gave you an annoyed hiss. “What in the nine realms are you…?”

“I… I can’t swim.” You whispered out of breath, holding on to him for dear life. With a start, his expression hardened, his arm coming up almost immediately to wrap around your middle underwater, pressing you against him.

“I’ve got you, keep still.” He replied quietly, making sure Tony and Natasha—both busy with alcoholic cocktails—would not notice. Only you did not do as he said. It was like your brain had shut down, stopping you from thinking rationally altogether. “Keep still.” He repeated a little more sharply. You whined, burying your face in his neck in a desperate attempt to block out the world around you.

It’s winter, it’s cold, I’m covered in snow. It’s winter, it’s cold, I’m covered in snow.

“There. Grab the ladder.” Blindly, you stretched out your hand. It took you a moment to find the rescuing metal construction. As soon as you did, you pulled yourself out of the water faster than a complaining cat.

“T-thank you, Loki.” Your voice was shaking. The God of Mischief nodded in response, yet, he did not move away from the edge of the pool. He waited for you to grab the towel you had been sitting on earlier and wrap it around yourself before you returned to your previous position.

“How is it you cannot swim?” He asked quietly. You swallowed thickly.

“I just… never… learned it. I grew up in a small city, far away from lakes, the sea or even pools. We were very poor and my parents never bothered… when… I always stayed home from school trips to the public swimming baths in the next town because I… well. Anyway… Thank you, Loki.”

“All thanks to my stupid oaf of a brother.” You gave him a weak smile. Silence spread between you. “I could teach you.” He suddenly said.

“W-what?”

The God of Mischief smirked. He himself was not quite sure why he would willingly lay his selfishness aside and help you… after all, the Avengers had not exactly treated him kindly ever since his return to Midgard. However, there was something about you that intrigued him. If anything, you reminded him of himself. No one had been there when he had struggled. He might as well change that for you—nobody but you needed to know.

“Swimming is not hard, my dear.” You heard him say. Your heart skipped a beat.

“It’s just… I don’t… want the others to know.”

“I figured that. Meet me at the pool after dark.”

Your eyes widened. You nodded, giving him a timid smile before disappearing inside to change your clothes.

-

As promised, as soon as the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, you slipped back into your bikini, grabbed a towel and sneaked back outside onto the vast terrace of the compound. The pool was quiet, almost eerie at this hour of the day, the surface glistening in the moonlight. And it somewhat… felt unreal.

Loki, God of Mischief, who despised pretty much everyone in the compound, wanted to teach you how to swim. He had saved you today, without making a scene, without laughing at you or calling you out. You hoped you had been right about him. Deep inside, he must have had a good heart.

“Loki? Are you here?” You whispered. You were worried of course that it had all been a joke, that he had lied to you, mocked you. But somehow… somehow you couldn’t believe that. The sparkling in his blue eyes had been so genuine when he had offered you his help…

Behind you, someone chuckled. You turned on your heel, facing Loki wearing no more than his black swimming trunks. He looked outrageously handsome in the moonlight, his raven hair complimenting the rather pale skin. You swallowed.

“Hey…”

“Come.” Loki smirked—and apparently, wasted no time.

You giggled. You must have looked so stupid climbing into the water and clinging onto the God of Mischief like a monkey. Skin against skin… only now did you realise how excited this whole situation made you—how fast it made your heart beat.

“Now… Hold on to the ladder and let me show you how to move your legs.” You feared it would be difficult to watch him in the dark but it was surprisingly easy. With a concentrated expression, you mimicked his movements and did the same with your arms after, all the while he held you around the middle to keep your head above water.

“Tell me, is it hard?” He asked.

“No…?”

“No. I want you to lean forward now and do what I have just taught you.”

“I will sink!”

“I will hold you. I am not letting go. Do it. There is no need to worry.” He insisted.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. Oddly, with Loki by your side, you felt… safe. Even when your movements became too hectic out of fear and your head dipped underwater briefly before he pulled you right up again.

“Easy, my dear.” He was so gentle… so unlike you knew him… or at least… how you thought you knew him. Was this what the real Loki was like, when he opened up? You could get used to that.

“Try again.” He ordered softly. You obliged, focusing hard to combine the arm and leg movements he had taught you. And this time… this time it worked. You were swimming. Well, more or less. Your body was gliding in the water all the while Loki protectively held you by the waist.

“Now that wasn’t so difficult, was it? With a little practise, you will be swimming in no time.”

“Oh my God… I can do it! I can do it, Loki!”

“That I can see, my dear.” He smirked. And maybe that was when something inside you snapped and you leaned forward to press a light kiss on his cheek. The God of Mischief was so surprised he almost jerked away.

“Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… I mean, I just… thank you. Why did you… I mean… why did you help me?”

Loki hesitated, his blue eyes locking with yours. “Let us say you are… interesting, as opposed to the others.”

You giggled once more. You were pretty sure he meant that as a compliment.

“That might sound… a little weird now but would you… would you like to have a drink with me sometime?” You longed to get to know him better. In but a single night, Loki had shown you his real face. The one he seemed to keep locked away in his heart so no one could hurt him anymore.

Loki chuckled darkly in response Yes, he figured. He liked you. There was something about you that was oddly intriguing, after all. He would do well to find out what it was in the upcoming nights.

“Is that what Midgardians like you would call… courting?” He teased. Your eyes widened.

“Um… well… I don’t know, I… if you don’t… I mean, I just…” You swallowed thickly, fighting to find the right words.

Loki’s smirk grew even wider.

“Yes. I would.”

 -

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would be flattered if you supported me on KoFi! kofi.com/sserpente

[strwbrryeos]

My Blood, Your Tears 01 (M)

summary; Two rival factions vie for control over the city and the government: the Min family and the Kim family. Generations of feuds fuel the struggle for power. In the new generation, Kim Namjoon continues his father’s battle, unaware of the Min family’s secret weapon.

genre; mafia au, series, angst, smut

pairing; mafia leader!namjoon x mafia member!reader

contains; mafiaLeader!Namjoon, sex trafficking references, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, oral, references to violence

next

Namjoon breathes heavily as he thrusts into his fuck-of-the-night one last time, and from his mouth escapes a long, sated groan. He collapses beside her, the only sound in the room being the faint buzz of a TV channel long since forgotten. The bed shifts next to him, and from his peripheral vision he can see her watching him intently.

The girl―fuck, what was her name?―won’t stop looking at him, and Namjoon rolls over with a sigh.

“Can I help you?” he asks a bit gruffly.

The girl looks a bit taken aback, and if Namjoon weren’t such a sadist then maybe he’d feel bad. “I just―” she starts, pausing shyly to tuck her hair behind her ear, “was wondering if, um, maybe we could do this again.”

Namjoon huffs and sits up, looking around the room for his scattered clothes. “We probably won’t,” he replies simply as he slips on his pants.

“I―oh, okay. I’m sorry. Was it, um, not good for you?” Her face is flushed a furious red as she pulls the sheets tighter around her body.

Namjoon pulls his shirt over head head. “Nah, it was good. You have a tight pussy.” Her face turns redder, if possible. “I’m just not a relationship type guy, you know? I’m super busy. I don’t have time.”

“That’s...yeah. I understand.”

Once Namjoon is dressed, he finds Jieun―yeah, that’s her name―her clothes and lays them neatly on the bed for her. She murmurs some form of appreciation, but Namjoon is really too disinterested to care. Jieun turns around bashfully, hiding her body from Namjoon as if he weren’t fucking her senseless just ten minutes earlier, and begins dressing, leaving Namjoon the perfect opportunity to stick his hand in her purse.

He rifles through it carefully and quietly, one eye on the alert in the event that she turns around. His fingers touch a phone, wallet, what feels like chapstick, and, ew, is that gum? But at the bottom of the purse he finds what he’s looking for: keys. The keyring has five keys on it, and Namjoon has approximately thirty seconds to determine which one he needs. He takes a deep breath and glances towards Jieun before setting to work.

Now, obviously it’s not the car key, so that’s one down. The house key is decorated with artsy butterflies, and he quickly discards it. Now he has three keys and twenty seconds. His fingers trace the ridges of the keys as he scrutinizes them. It can’t be this one―the bow is too big; it must be another house key. The next one has a different bow, but it’s the same size as the previous one. If his assumptions are correct―and they usually are―the key he needs is the last one. Slightly smaller, slightly plainer, but far more important. He slips the key off the keyring and into his pocket. The rest of the keys fall with a slight jangle back into the purse, but Jieun is too occupied with her own embarrassment to really notice.  

“Do you need a ride home?” Namjoon asks. Yes, he might be fucked up in a lot of ways, but he was still a gentleman.

“No, thanks,” she replies immediately. “I’m just going to call a friend.”

Namjoon shrugs. He offered. “Whatever suits you. Thanks for a wonderful evening.”

As soon as he’s out of the room, Namjoon’s phone is at his ear, dialing a tone while he walks briskly. He taps his pocket twice to make sure the key is still there.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. I got it.”

“I’m across the street, two buildings down. Area is clear.”

“You sure?”

The man on the other end scoffs. “It’s me, of course I’m sure!”

“Okay but―”

“That was one time! Just hurry your ass over here or the Min cronies will show up like they always do!

“Yeah yeah, I’m outside. I see you.”

Namjoon hangs up the phone, and his senses are hyperalert of his surroundings as he takes a step forward. A shadow in the corner of his eye, and Namjoon is already shouting for backup from across the street.

Someone lunges at Namjoon, but he is too fast, and he dodges swiftly. He curses himself for not having any weapons on him, but then again, it’s really hard to seduce a woman when you’re strapped. He’s not too worried though, because his men are beside him in an instant. The commotion stops when his attackers realize he’s not alone.

Namjoon scoffs and fixes his jacket and his hair, looking at the men in front of him with disdain. “Did you really think I’d come here alone?” he scoffs.

“Give us the key,” one of the men growl.

“Not a fucking chance,” sing-songs Hoseok from beside Namjoon, causing Namjoon to laugh lightly at his friend.

“Look, you give us the key, or this pavement is gonna be painted with Kim blood.”

“That was...oddly poetic. But should I really be scared? I mean, Yoongi didn’t even bother sending anyone important,” Namjoon laughs, and he sees the enemy men falter. “Oh? You’re not even hiding anyone up your sleeve? Now that is really unlike Yoongi.”

“Just give us the key.”

“No.”

Hoseok giggles. “Oh, man! Yoongi is going to put a bullet through all of you! Can’t believe he assigned such a task to such a weak group.”

One of the men step forward and places a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder. “If you really wanna play this game…” he growls.

“Your mistake,” Hoseok says with a nonchalant shrug. The man isn’t prepared for what happens next. Hoseok doesn’t move―doesn’t really need to when Jimin is moving at lightning speeds. He appears as if from nowhere, his hands grabbing tightly at the man’s shoulder and wrist. He pushes forward, and with a swift and powerful maneuver, there’s an audible crack as Jimin takes advantage of the odd angle of the arm, and the man falls to the ground in a painful, broken whimper. “Sorry about that,” Hoseok says, handing the fallen man a handkerchief from his breast pocket. “My friend here can get terribly protective of us, and he’s not nice when he’s pissed off.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and huffed, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. “Only I’m allowed to touch you,” he mutters.

“Aw, baby,” Hoseok coos, cupping Jimin’s face. Some of Namjoon’s men chuckle, unfazed by the couple’s antics. They’ve done worse in worse situations. (“Jimin, you can’t just suck your boyfriend’s dick while someone is trying to break my neck!”)

“Yah, lovebirds! Are you done? I need my driver,” Namjoon says, gesturing towards Hoseok.

“Ugh, fine,” Jimin whines. “But you owe me.”

“Owe you for what?” he asks as he leads his men away, ignoring the wails of the man with the broken arm. Shouldn’t sign up for this job if you can’t handle it, Namjoon thinks with a shake of his head. “Not letting you engage in public sex in front of a fancy hotel and our rivals? Man, you owe me.”

The defeated men watch as the Kim members file into their cars and drive away. One of them even had the audacity to flick them off through the open window, and a Min member can’t help but spit in the cars’ direction. “Fucking assholes,” one of them hisses through grit teeth.

“Fuck, fuck,” whimpers the one on the ground, still clutching his arm.

“Yo, Yeosang, you alright?”

“No, no. You have to kill me. Kiyoung you have to kill me.”

“W-What?” Kiyoung stammers as he lifts Yeosang from the ground. “The fuck, why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, Yoongi will. Er―Boss.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Yeosang,” another of the men says, “It’s him. Boss. He’s not gonna hurt us. He needs us.”

“How can he need us if we can’t even get a stupid key for him?” asks Yeosang, yelping when Kiyoung moves him too harshly.

“Don’t talk like that. C’mon. Get you to Taehyung. He’ll patch you up.”

The car ride back to headquarters is mostly silent with the exception of Yeosang’s soft crying. Any other day, someone might tell him to shut up, but there is an overwhelming sense of dread as they get closer to their destination. No one wants to be the one to tell Yoongi that their mission was a failure.

If they thought the drive was bad, the walk in is even worse. It feels like everyone’s eyes are on them as they approach Yoongi’s door. A gentle knock and a gruff “Come in,” and they disappear, leaving the rest of the members to whisper about the conversation that’s taking place.

Kiyoung has only been in this room once before, and he’s no less nervous upon entering. It’s not a terribly large room―a simple, lowlit study with a bookshelf and a desk, but the man in front of him is what has him on edge. Yoongi stares at them from his great, mahogany desk. He’s wearing a pressed suit and a single gold chain, and though his hair is slightly ruffled from pulling on it too much, he’s the epitome of intimidating. Two men stand menacingly beside him, and Yeosang wants to shrivel up and die under their gazes.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

Kiyoung takes a step forward and, gesturing to Yeosang, says, “Uh, Boss, could I take Yeosang to the infirmary? One of the Kims―Jimin―broke his arm.”

Yoongi’s eyes rake over the two of them skeptically before nodding and dismissing them with a wave of his hand. “Fine,” he replies, “But I need to hear a report. Are one of you going to give me one? Jong?”

Kiyoung gives Jong a sympathetic look before slipping out of the room with Yeosang in tow. Jong moves toward Yoongi and lowers his head. “I apologize, Boss, but our mission was unsuccessful.”

One of the men beside Yoongi scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I told you, man. Don’t send rookies to do important business.”

“Shut up, Jin,” Yoongi says, earning an annoyed huff from his friend. “I wanted to test them out.”

“Well, tell me, how did that work out?”

“Do you want me to kick your ass?”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Yoongi stands, and for a second Jong thinks that he’s going to punch Jin, but instead, he rounds the table to stand before Jong. Instinctively, Jong lowers himself on one knee, displaying his submission. “All you had to do was get a key. It’s a small thing. You know what keys are, right?” Jong doesn’t answer, unsure if the question is rhetorical or not. “Right?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Okay, so then, what happened?”

“Uh, our scouts were wrong, Boss. Whoever said it was a Kim seducing Jieun forgot to mention that this particular Kim was Kim Namjoon.”

Yoongi balls his fists, and Jong flinches.

“Jungkook,” Yoongi snaps, turning towards the men behind him, “who the fuck reported that? Who could possibly mess that up?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Fuck if I know. Was probably a newbie scout.”

“And tell me again why we sent a rookie?”

“Intercepted information. Sent someone to investigate the details. Looks like we picked the wrong person.”

“Did he not recognize Namjoon’s face?” Yoongi asks, venom lacing his voice. “How do you not recognize a motherfucker with that ugly a face?”

Both Jungkook and Jin laugh. “Want me to call them in?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes,” he says before turning to Jong. “You’re dismissed.”

Jong heaves a sigh of relief and exists the study, leaving a miffed Yoongi behind. The man taps his fingers impatiently, waiting as Jungkook calls all the novice scouts into his study. There are only a few, so it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out which idiot’s neck Yoongi is going to wring. Jungkook lines them up to face the Min leader and starts naming them off. “Minjoon, Dohyun, Chungho, Daeho, and Iljung.”

Yoongi scrutinizes their faces. He’s not a particularly forgetful man, and he always has new members run by him, but for some reason he can’t seem to place Daeho. That in itself is the tip-off. “Dismissed,” he commands. “Daeho. Stay.”

The man kneels before Yoongi, as all men do, giving Yoongi easy access to grab his hair and yank him forward. Daeho catches himself on his hands and looks up. “Boss…”

“Don’t ‘Boss’ me,” he growls, grabbing Daeho by the hair once again. He pulls him, twisting him to the side to expose his neck. Long fingers pull at the turtle neck, revealing skin with a small moon on it, just as Yoongi had suspected. “Filth.”

He tosses Daeho back on the ground, even more angered that the kid doesn’t really seem to give a fuck. Literally fuck Namjoon.

“Want me to send his head back to Namjoon?” Jungkook asks, taking a step forward. The menacing look in his eyes says that he’ll do it, and it’ll hurt.

Yoongi shakes his head. “I’d rather do it myself. I’m tired of his fucking games.”

“Do it,” Daeho says with a shrug and an infuriating laugh. “Got nothing to live for anyways. Really think he would’ve sent me out here otherwise?”

“Oh, is that what you want? Then that’d be too easy.” Yoongi ponders for a minute, then looks at Jin. “What do you think we could use him for?”

Jin shrugs his shoulders and holds up his hand, counting off a number of things. “Test different torture methods on him, could test new weapons on him, we could whore him out…”

Yoongi’s ears perk up. “Whore him out?” Daeho looks at the ground and looks away. “Oh, you don’t like that do you? Oh even better! Why don’t we give him to one of our clients? Make him a...personal assistant instead, you know?”

Jin taps his chin thoughtfully. “Yes. I’ll get his measurements, see what he can and can’t do, and we’ll find a buyer.”

Yoongi nods approvingly. “I like it. Get to it.”

Daeho is dragged, rather roughly, out of the room by Jin, and just barely Yoongi can hear him say, “I hope you’re a sub, or else this really won’t be fun for you,” and Yoongi can’t help but laugh.

“Jungkook?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“Go check up on Yeosang. Report his status. I’m gonna have to move someone into his unit.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Oh, and Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“Call my sister in.”

Jungkook isn’t a nervous person. He’s got a reputation to uphold, and it’s one that precedes him. His past is dark, and it’s easy to tell with a glance. He radiates dominance; members of their mafia stepped aside in his presence, for nothing is worse than the commanding stare or the lethal hand of Jeon Jungkook.

But around you, Jungkook is nervous.

He reminds himself that you’re one of his best friends (or perhaps only friends), but that doesn’t make you any less intimidating. He has to steel himself as he approaches you while you sit, unassuming, busying away on your desk, scribbling furiously in your notebook and stopping ever so often to yell something at Taehyung, then proceeding to type away at your computer. This was probably the most vulnerable state he’d ever seen you in―which in itself was terrifying, because what kind of a person could be so collected that their vulnerable state was writing in an overused notebook?

You feel a presence, and you notice the reflection in your laptop, causing you to react immediately. Your laptop slams shut as you shout, “Taehyung!” and Jungkook jumps because he didn’t expect you to be so perceptive. Then again, it was you and he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

Taehyung barrels into the room, smiling when his eyes land on Jungkook. “Oh, hey man,” he greets. “What brings you down to our side of town?”

The room is mostly white, decorated with a few paintings here and there, but it’s mostly occupied by monitors and operating tables and contraptions used for hell knows what. Sure, he could kill a man in the dark with his hands tied behind his back, but Jungkook was definitely not in his element. And of course, you knew that.

“I’m here for a status report on Yeosang. Yoongi’s gotta know where he can move him for the time being,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” replies Taehyung. He turns to you. “Y/N, can you print out a report for Kook? Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say with a wave of your hand. You take the freshly printed paper and hand it to Jungkook, flashing him a smile. It’s the first time he sees your face since arriving six minutes ago, and he forgot how nervous it made him. Your warm, “I-promise-I-don’t-bite!” smile which starkly contrasted with your eyes that just screamed, “I know all of your secrets,” and honestly? He’s sure you know every single one. “Anything else you need?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, “Yoongi needs you.”

You nod and smile, standing up and brushing your lab coat as you hang it up. “Lead the way.”

Jungkook exits the infirmary, and though he would’ve been comfortable with you tailing him, you stride right beside him, and his adrenaline spikes. Eyes are on you as the two of you walk back towards Yoongi’s study. There’s always been an aura of mystery around you, and it’s terrifying. Terrifying because, yes, everyone here has their own dark secrets, but terrifying because you know everyone’s, and they don’t know yours. They know that you’re the only one that can scare the higher ups. The only one that makes their fearless leader tremble. The only one they send when they really need something done.

There are plenty of rumors about your story. Plenty of rumors about who you are and where you came from. Your relationship to Yoongi is something that only Yoongi and his most trusted men know. Your existence is something that only Yoongi and his most trusted men know. That’s not to say the other men don’t recognize you. They do. They see you around. See you appear after being gone for months. See how you leave from an interrogation room with an air of superiority while your victim is stricken. But who are you?

Once the door closes behind you, Jungkook lets out a small breath and relief, and although he thinks he’s in the clear, you’re quick to pick up the change in his demeanor. A knowing smile in his way has him wanting to shrivel under your gaze.

Jin feels the same as Jungkook, and he sure as hell is glad that Yoongi didn’t ask him to bring you up. He doesn’t like the way you can read him so easily. It takes him years to open up to people, and even then it’s always surface things. But within the first five minutes of meeting you, he had the overwhelming urge to spill his entire life story, and he did, and to this day he still doesn’t know why.

“Damn, you walk slow,” Yoongi says to you as a small grin creeps on his face.

“I just got used to matching your pace, I guess.” You roll your eyes and take a seat, relaxing into the chair behind you even as the rest of them stand.

That in itself sets both Jin and Jungkook on edge, and they share looks of agreement. What kind of a madwoman is just so nonchalantly comfortable with men like Jin, Jungkook, and Yoongi, and moreover, what made you so bold that you could sit before them as if you retained the power? Sometimes Jin wondered if Yoongi really was the head of this whole operation.

“Got an assignment for you,” Yoongi says, handing you a file.

Your eyes light up. “An assignment? It’s been awhile! Target?”

“Kim Namjoon.”

You hesitate, then look up at your brother with a raised eyebrow. “Kim Namjoon? As in, leader of the Kims?”

“The very same.”

“You wanna elaborate or are you gonna draw it out for me?” you ask with a little bit of sass. Yoongi clicks his tongue at you.

“He has a key. We need you to get it from him.”

“Reason being?”

“A storage unit. Stole it from the daughter of a politician. Kinda high up. Got some pricey stuff in the unit, but there’s also information. Good information to have, you know?”

“We know how?”

“Intercepted information from the cyber unit,” Yoongi replies. “They know the location of the unit and the key. All we got was the key, but we have no idea where the unit is.”

You lean back, your mind running through every scenario and calculating every outcome. “Interesting. Whoever gets that information wins legitimacy and influence in government affairs, then?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Tell me, what do you know about Kim Namjoon?” Yoongi pauses, as if expecting you to have that information, not realizing that the question isn’t directed at him. “Jin?”

“Wait, what?” Yoongi asks, surprised, turning around to face his right-hand. Jin’s face flushes scarlet and he looks down at the ground. Jungkook looks equally as surprised.

“Don’t be modest, Jin. It had to come out sometime. And stop looking so angry, Yoongi, it’s not like Jin’s a mole or anything. Geez.”

“Well you can never be too careful…”

“Anway,” you say, “Jin used to know Namjoon. Back before he became what he is. Give me what you got.”

“I, uh, there’s not much to tell―”

“Bullshit, there’s always something to tell. Favorite color?”

“Black.”

You snort. “Of course.”

“Favorite drink?”

“Uh, dramble, I think.”

“With gin or whiskey?”

“Whiskey.”

“Hmm.”

You lean back in your chair, ever so thoughtful, and the three men in front of you shift on your feet nervously. It’s such basic information. What were you supposed to do with it?

“The Kims own six major clubs. But a man like Namjoon is quiet, thoughtful. Takes his time. Appreciates the finer things in life. Does he frequent Richie’s Bar?”

You look at Jungkook expectantly.

“What―yeah―how did you know that? He doesn’t really go there in mass numbers. Just takes a few bodyguards. We’ve surveilled him there often enough.”

“After such a success tonight, he’s probably going to look to reward himself tomorrow, right?” you say, looking up at your brother. Realization dawns on him when he meets your eyes.

“Richie’s Bar, little black dress, with a whiskey dramble in hand, huh?”

You laugh sweetly. Jungkook might feel sick. “Did you expect anything less?”

“Your sister is fucking crazy,” Jin says as he watches you walk into the bar. Yoongi hums in agreement from his seat, assessing the scene while Jungkook’s eyes dart over the monitors.

“I feel like psychotic is more accurate,” Jungkook chimes in, fiddling with a few wires.

“Don’t talk about my best friend like that!” Taehyung shouts from the back of the van. “You’re all just a bunch of wimps!”

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re a crazy motherfucker too!” Yoongi shouts back, earning laughter all around.

“Okay, got it!” Jungkook exclaims. “God, we really need new equipment, Yoongs.”

“Please don’t bring that back,” Yoongi says with a groan.

Jungkook doesn’t listen though because he’s radioing in to you. “Yo, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Jeon.”

“CAN YOU HEAR ME?” asks another voice over the radio, causing everyone in the van to groan in pain.

“Geez, Tae!” you exclaim. “Try not to blow my eardrums out, please!”

“Sorry,” he murmurs sheepishly, though the smile on his face shows that he’s really not sorry at all.

“Alright little Min, how we looking?”

You scrunch up your nose at the name. “Are we doing that again? I’ll start calling you Yoongsicle again.”

“YOONGSICLE―” Jin barks over the radio, unable to contain his laughter.

“I will murder your entire family.”

“Nice try, bitch, you’re my entire family!”

“Oof, thanks for the sentiment, Kim.”

“Ah, Y/N,” Jin coos. “You know you’re like the sociopathic little sister I never had.”

“That explain why you’re so terrified of me?” you counter, and you’re only met with soft sniggers.

“Get back to work,” he mutters and you can’t help but laugh.

“Oh, shit,” you say when you see a certain handsome man enter the bar. “Everyone shut up.”

Everyone notices Namjoon’s presence when he enters, but no one dares draw attention to it. Instead the lights are dimmed, and smooth neo soul beats can be heard from the club’s speakers. Namjoon’s men file in behind him, a few of the sleazier ones immediately attaching themselves to whoever they can find on the dancefloor. Namjoon himself walks leisurely, taking his time to examine anyone and everyone before taking a seat at the bar. He doesn’t order a drink, instead turning around a relaxing against the counter. A few men come up to whisper a couple of words to him, but before long he’s dismissing them, eager to have his quiet time. You take it as your cue to finally make your way over. “Going in,” you whisper.

You don’t need anyone to tell you that you look good. You know you do. The dress is simple, accenting your curves and fitting in perfectly with the club atmosphere. It’s classy, and it’s elegant, with just the right amount of scandalous. You sit a calculated three seats away from Namjoon. A choice that said you came here alone, but that you weren’t waiting for anybody, and while you didn’t know Namjoon, you were open to getting to know him.

Namjoon sees a new face, and his first instinct is to assess and analyze. This, he does, because he’s absolutely and entirely sure he’s never seen you around before. He would’ve remembered that skin. That dress. That body. That small scar. And the way your lips move when they say, “Dramble, please. Oh, but with whiskey, not gin.”

Now, Namjoon is definitely intrigued.

You see him moving towards you in your peripheral vision, and as he takes a seat next to you, the bartender hands you your drink. “Put that on my tab,” Namjoon says as he finally makes eye contact with you, “And I’ll have the same.”

A flicker of emotion crosses Namjoon’s face when he gazes upon you. He curses himself for it because he already knows that you noticed it. He knows because he knows that look. Cynical. Calculating. Alert. He’d just never seen it so precisely etched into someone else. For a second he thinks he should have someone inspect you, but then he remembers that you were inspected before entry, and that new faces appeared at his clubs all the time. You had to be a little bit alert if you were knowingly walking into Kim territory.

You take a slow sip from your drink as the bartender places Namjoon’s in front of him, and he lifts it up to do the same. Neither of you say a word, as if daring the other to speak first. The tension is thick, and the bartender senses it, backing away as if intruding on a lovers’ moment.

“Y/N?” Jin’s voice whispers to you, but you ignore it. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

You don’t, of course, because then the power would lie with Namjoon, for he’d know that you were looking for something from him, and you can’t concede so early in the game. Namjoon ponders over the same thoughts as you, but for him, it’s about pride rather than power. He’s not going to―he won’t―submit to this woman that he doesn’t even know the name of.

And yet, he finds himself doing just that.

“First time here?” he asks.

You smile. The game has begun. Your move.

“How’d you know?”

“I come here a lot,” he replies, pausing to sip the alcohol, “and I’m certain I would’ve remembered you.”

“Oh? What makes me so special?”

You don’t pin him for a greasy comment type guy, but from the way his men are acting in the background, you wouldn’t put it past him. But then he says, “Interesting drink taste.”

You laugh, and he finds himself very attracted to that sound. He wouldn’t mind hearing that more often. He briefly wonders what it sounds like when you moan.

“Is it so interesting if you have the same thing?”

“Well, if I consider myself interesting, and I do, then absolutely.”

You laugh again, showing your teeth as a light blush dusts your cheeks. You notice the way Namjoon’s eyes flicker over your features, taking in all of those details.

“Doing great, little Min.”

“This is nice,” you say, and though to Namjoon it sounds like a simple compliment, Yoongi knows that you hear him and you’re doing fine.

“What is?”

You shrug. “The atmosphere. The music. The drinks.” You pause, gesturing to the handsome man in front of you. “The company.”

“You know, I feel like the company would be better in an area where I could hear you better,” he says with raised eyebrows, nodding his head towards the VIP lounge.

“I think I’d like that, but tell me, will we have any other company?”

“We hear you. Jungkook’s tapping into the lounge’s cameras. Don’t worry.”

“It’ll be just us,” Namjoon replies, holding out his hand.

“Well then,” you say, hopping up from your seat and taking his hand, “that’ll be nice.”

“We’ve got eyes on you.”

Namjoon leads you into the lounge and away from the grimier of his clan. The VIP lounge is softer, more jazz type music playing. Men talk in urgent, hushed voices that pause when they see Namjoon walk in. With an exchange of nods and a quick glance at you, they resume their conversations and continue dealing their cards. A few rounds of laughter are heard every so often as someone loses a bet, but Namjoon pays them no mind as he leads you to a back corner. Namjoon flicks his finger twice, and any surrounding booths are suddenly empty. He slides into the booth, leaning against a wall as you slide in next to him, his arm draped around your shoulder.

“Mm, gross,” Taehyung says through the earpiece.

“So what made you come here today?” he asks as two drinks are placed before you. The arm around your shoulder moves to pick up a drink and hand one to you.

You sip it thoughtfully before replying, “Wanted a change in pace. I don’t get out much.”

“Must be why I never see you around. Tell me, what do you do?”

“Oh, I work in a clinic,” you answer simply. “Help patch people up when they get hurt, you know?”

“How sweet.”

“And you?”

Namjoon laughs because, to him, you’re a cute little nurse who has no idea what she’s getting herself into. “Ah, nothing interesting. Just a regular businessman.”

“Business? What company do you work for?”

“Oh it’s small. Kim Incorporations.”

You feign surprise, even going so far as to choke on your drink (although you might contribute that to the much too large ice cube that tried to slither its way down your throat). “And you really consider Kim Incorporations to be small?”

Namjoon shrugs. “It’s no big deal, really.”

“Well, geez, if your job is no big deal then I really don’t know what I’m doing,” you laugh, and Namjoon pauses. There it is. What a cute sound.

“You know,” says Namjoon, and you’re shocked to see that he almost looks...embarrassed, “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

“Ah,” you chuckle, “How rude of me. I’m Y/N. And you are?”

“Namjoon,” he replies, holding out his hand.

“Well, Namjoon, it’s good to meet you.”

“And you.”

“So, Y/N…” Wow, your name sounds delicious off his tongue. “You’re a nurse? How’d that happen?”

His hand rests on the table, and as you speak, you trace patterns across the back of his hand. You never break eye contact, so it seems subconscious, but the way his breathing pattern changes is all too noticeable to you. “I’ve always wanted to help people. Ever since I was little. So really, it only made sense.”

“Ah,” Namjoon says with a nod, his eyes briefly darting to where your fingers touch his skin, “Wish I could say the same. Kinda followed in my parents’ footsteps, you know?”

“Oh that’s sweet. Are you close with them?”

Namjoon laughs bitterly. “Not in the slightest. And unfortunately, they died a while ago.”

“Oh.” Your voice is full of sympathy, and now Namjoon can only see sweetness in your eyes. You hand moves up, making long strokes on his arm, and his shudders. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I know how that must feel.”

He looks up at you. You’re so young! Maybe you had just as bad of a childhood as he did. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” you reply, refraining from clenching your jaw. “My parents passed a few years ago.”

Namjoon sits there, momentarily, in a state of awkwardness and panic. This isn’t normally how these conversations with women go. Why is it so personal all of a sudden? Anyone else and he would’ve been fucking them in some fancy hotel room by now. What the fuck?

“Sorry,” you say, pulling your arm away. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, uh―” Why does his throat feel so dry? He swallows and drinks a little more. Is he...nervous?

Jungkook giggles in your ear. “Fucker is nervous!”

“Well of course he is. He’s talking to Y/N.”

“Yeah…” Jungkook mutters.

“It’s okay, Kook, we all know you get nervous talking to her.”

“Shut up! You do too!”

“Tell me something else, then,” you whisper, ignoring the idiots in your ear.

“What do you want to know?” he whispers back, just loud enough for you to hear him over the music.

“I don’t know,” you answer, scooting closer to him, boldly moving your hand from his arm to his leg. His breath hitches and he looks down on you with a darker gaze. “But if you want, we can forgo the talking.”

“Do you have something else in mind then?” he asks, leaning closer to you. His face is so close to yours that he can see the blush on your cheeks and the glisten of your lips, whether it be from the drink or your lipgloss he’s not sure.

You lean in, your lips ghosting his, causing him to take a deep breath as he tries to regain control.

“Whoop! That’s your little sister!”

“I will literally come back there, and I will slit your throat!”

You can’t help a small laugh, and Namjoon moans at the feel of your hot breath on his mouth. It’s at this sound that you go in for the kill, tugging the back of Namjoon’s hair to kiss him fully and heavily.

“Bite him! Bite him!”

“Taehyung! Let the girl do her work!”

In fact, you do take Taehyung’s advice, biting gently down on Namjoon’s bottom lip, and it’s enough to leave him reeling. He pulls back for a second to catch his breath before he’s back on you again, tasting the dramble on your lips. In an act of dominance, you slip your tongue inside his mouth, and it has him growling.

“Fuck…” he whispers, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit turned on.

He squeezes your waist, encouraging to move closer to him, but there’s not much place else to go except his lap. He sees no problem with that. You grind down on him, eliciting a moan that almost as you whimpering. Almost. Damn, he’s too attractive. You nibble on his lip one last time before moving to the side, planting light kisses on his jawline (seriously, this man is too attractive) and working your way down his neck. He grabs at your ass, content to let you lick and suck his neck as you please, so long as you don’t stop.

Until, well, you stop.

“Sorry,” you whisper against his skin before climbing off.

He looks at you in utter confusion. “What…”

“Hooking up with guys I don’t know isn’t really my style. Though,” you laugh, “I was this close to making an exception for you, so I have to stop before I do something I don’t regret.”

“Aw, no, Y/N…”

“Sorry, Namjoon. Maybe we’ll see each other some other time, though.”

“You don’t even have my number.”

“Are you going to give it to me?”

Namjoon, tongue in cheek, looks you up and down, amazed. It’s been quite a while since he’s found someone so fucking bold. He shakes his head in amusement and pulls out his phone.

“I guess I am.”

You exchange phone numbers and then he stands, deciding to escort you out. He’s staked a claim and he doesn’t want any of his men―yes, they’re his men but still―trying something out. One hand on the small of your back, he leads you out of the longue. You can feel the men at the card tables watching you closely, a few snickering because ha, you have no idea what you’re getting in to, and you’re going to be left broken-hearted after a one night stand.

But of course, the truth is, Namjoon doesn’t know what he’s getting in to.

He leads you to the front of the bar and out onto the silent street, and you’re surprised to see how late it actually is. You might’ve gotten a little distracted, but, hey, you did your job.

“Thanks for walking me out,” you murmur, pressing your body up to Namjoon. He heaves as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself, then leans down and presses a soft but firm kiss on your lips.

“Anytime.”

“I hope we can see each other again sometime,” you laugh. “I think we’ll have more fun.”

“Yeah, I think so. Do you need a ride?”

“No, thank you. My ride's here,” you say, gesturing to the car across the street.

“Uber?” Namjoon asks.

“Of course.”

“Well…”

You chuckle at his uncertainty. “I hope I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Namjoon’s eyes trail after you as you hop across the street and into the van. A few more seconds and it pulls away, leaving him entirely confused and way too eager to see you again.

“Oh, dude, what are you doing here?” Hoseok asks, stumbling out of the bar with a way too drunk Jimin on his tail. “I thought you were going home with that girl.”

“No, uh,” Namjoon laughs, “She left, actually.”

Even in his drunken stupor, Jimin comes alive, taking in the information. “I’m sorry, what?” He can’t stop laughing, and it takes everything in Hoseok not to drop his ass then and there. “A girl left you, the great Kim Namjoon, oh so fearless leader of the Kims, heir to Kim Incorporations, alone? At night? Without a fuck?”

“Jimin!” Hoseok shouts. “Shut the fuck up!” But even Hoseok is struggling to contain his laughter.

“Lost your edge, Leader?” Jimin laughs. “Look, I might be gay, but I can certainly teach you a lesson if you need me to!”

“Babe, seriously, I love you, but if you don’t shut up right now, I’m going to leave you here.”

“What? Hoseokieee,” Jimin whines.

Namjoon shakes his head at his two friends. “What happened to his alcohol ban?”

“He got off his leash!” Hoseok shouts defensively.

Namjoon blinks. “You put him on a leash.”

“Well…”

“Keep it in your pants, Jung,” he snorts.

Hoseok groans and rolls his eyes. “Okay, you can shut up too. Can we go home? I have to sleep in the same bed as this motherfucker but that means I also have to take care of his drunk ass.”

“Look, not my fault you guys got together.” But Namjoon smiles and leads them towards their car. The bodyguards that had accompanied him in follow him out, opening the door and helping to escort their much too drunk friend into the car. Jimin squeals, having way too much fun, and Namjoon sighs, internally agreeing with Hoseok that they should just leave him here.

“This man has killed half the fucking city,” Hoseok huffs after Jimin collapses on his lap. “Can you believe it?”

“Well, given that you’ve killed half the people in this city, can I really say I’m surprised?”

Hoseok scoffs. “Fair.”

As the car pulls away, both Hoseok and Namjoon sigh, leaning back into the leather seats. Namjoon’s eyes flicker out the window, as if he’s expecting to see you walking down the street, and he shakes his head. He doesn’t like how fucked up you’ve got him, and all he knows is your name. He’s supposed to be the one in control. Not you. When did he give up the power? And did you know all along? Or were you innocent in planting that small, small seed in the corner of his heart?

“So who was she?” Hoseok asks.

“Hmm?”

“The girl. The one that’s got you whipped.”

“Whipped? I don’t even know her.”

“Then why do you look like a lovesick fool?”

“The only lovesick fool here is you.”

“Well then that explains why I know what a lovesick fool looks like.”

Namjoon huffs and looks back out the window. “I don’t know. I have no idea who she is.”

“Get her number?”

“Of course.”

“Then find out.”

“Eh, I’m not sure it’ll be worth my time. She’s some cutesy nurse. Can’t get her all wrapped up in my shit.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. He loves Namjoon. He’s his best friend. But sometimes, Namjoon is a fucking idiot.

“Hey, what’s that super obvious and super visible thing that’s right on your fucking neck?”

“Huh?” Namjoon instinctively puts his hand on his neck, and he remembers your lips on his skin, shuddering at the thought.

“Here’s a hint,” Hoseok says, pointing to the tattoo on his own neck. The moon. The moon. Shit.

Namjoon’s eyes widen in realization. “Shit! Do you think she knows who I am? I got so caught up in...the moment that I didn’t even realize!”

“No, genius! It means, she saw it, she licked it, and she still gave you her number. Plus, I’m sure she’s not stupid. She knows what bar she walked into.”

“So, you’re saying…?”

“Call her! I saw her. That’s one ballsy bitch. You’ll be lucky if you find someone even close to that. Plus with the way she messed with your head in the span of, like, three hours. Man, call her, or I’ll call her for you.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at his friend, but he’s already mulling over the prospect. Maybe. Right now, he just wants to go home, jerk off because of the massive fucking boner you gave him, and go to sleep.

You sigh in the car, as you massage your feet, or, more accurately, as Taehyung massages your feet. He complained about it, but when he realized you got the Kim leader’s number, he quickly shut up.

“So what now?” asks Jungkook from the driver's seat.

“We wait,” you answer. “He’ll call. I doubt he's used to being left high and dry. And by now he'll have noticed that I know he's a Kim.”

“Will he?”

“Given that I actively made out with his tattoo, I certainly hope so. If not, he's dumber than I thought.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes at you as Jungkook speaks up from the front. “Are you coming home with us or do you want me to drop you off at your apartment?”

“Drop me off,” you respond. “I’m super tired and you guys are too loud. Plus I have work in the morning.”

“I don’t get why you don’t just quit,” Yoongi groans. “It’s so much easier if you just live at home again.”

“I didn’t study neuroscience and psychology for nothing,” you remind your brother, a slight edge to your voice. “Despite what Mom wanted, I’m not dedicating my entire life to the family business.”

Yoongi’s eye twitches slightly. “Dad wanted it too.”

“Well Dad’s not here, is he?”

Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jin shift around uncomfortably. The Min siblings are normally so calm and cool and collected, but when things do get heated between you two, it makes everyone in a ten miles radius want to hide for days.

But thankfully, Yoongi retreats, not having the energy to have this fight with you. Maybe another day. “Just let me know when you get to work tomorrow. And don’t forget to let us know if Namjoon calls. I’ll send someone over to guard your door tonight.”

“Think he’s already figured out who I am?”

“Not yet,” your brother replies, “but he will. There are plenty of rumors about my ever so elusive sister, but those who know you exist know your face, and there’s no way to keep that from him. You’ll just have to break him before he finds out.”

―

Your apartment is cozy and small. Yoongi prefers to call it ugly and cramped. You prefer it, though, because it’s a nice contrast to the way you grew up. It’s a studio apartment with your bedroom and living room separated only by a small partition. It’s not gorgeous, but it’s a safe place.

One of the first things you learn before working in the mental health field is decompression. To be able to help others, you need to be able to help yourself. You need to be able to keep a sound mind when others can’t. The golden rule, really.

Your mother taught you that, among other things.

She’s the reason you’re a psychoanalyst, mostly because, like the dutiful daughter you were, you followed in her footsteps. You learned how to read people by the time you were six years old. Could tell what your friends were thinking before they even thought it. It scared your classmates and it scared their parents. You moved schools that year.

She’s the reason you’re a spy―the go to undercover operative. You learned to be anything you were needed to be. You learned how to dodge questions and manipulate answers by the time you were ten. You figured your way around the teachers when the questioned the bruise marks on your wrist. You moved schools that year.

She’s the reason you’re an extractor. An extractor of information. Where pain fails, mind games always work, and just like your mother, you got what you needed without ever having to lift a finger. By the age of sixteen, the student had become the master. Your words were deadly. Your stares, lethal. The bullies at your school found that out when they found themselves confessing all of their drug endeavours and student attacks to the entire student body. You were homeschooled from then on.

But it’s because of her that you’ll never be a whole person again. You’re a shell, beaten, broken, and bruised. Worthless, worthless, worthless because you were never good enough. You needed to be better.

“Better,” she’d say. “But not good enough. Try again tomorrow. Go decompress.”

You breathe deeply and heavily, falling onto your mattress easily, the sheets smelling slightly like your favorite lotion. You’re ready to fall asleep, ready to let yourself be dead to the world, but you find that you can’t. Your eyebrows furrow as your heart rate picks up, your mother’s words echoing in your head.

You never sleep. Can’t sleep, especially when her ghost still haunts you.

“You need to be better. Haven’t I taught you anything?”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I won’t disappoint you.”

You feel the wrath of her disappointment weighing heavy on your chest as you struggle to breath.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t disappoint me,” she says, the words acidic on her tongue as she grabs your wrist roughly. “Look at your brother. He’s doing so much better.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll try to be better.”

Better. The resentment. Your brother was always better than you. He always got your parents’ attention. He was always better.

“Good job, Yoongi!” your father praises. “A perfect shot! What about you, Y/N? Wanna try?”

“No,” your mother interrupts. “I don’t think she’s earned it. How can she shoot if she can’t get a couple words right? You have to mean it, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry.”

Guilt and shame and anger boil up inside you, and suddenly you’re running to the bathroom to throw up. You shake your head, irritated with yourself. Why are you always so weak?

You realize that you haven’t even changed out of your dress when you open the door, but by then you don’t really care. The man standing outside your door is surprised to see you, but quickly moves out of the way.

“S-Sorry, ma’am―”

“Take me to my brother,” you command, and he nods quickly, leading you out of the complex and into a waiting car. He drives hurriedly, as if trying to get past traffic, but there’s really no need when no one dares to be on the streets at this hour. From your window you can see a few sketchy figures hiding out; probably members of some local gang. Amateurs.

The car stops in front of a large, expensive house. You let out an exasperated sigh into the night. Luxurious lives are beautiful, but the memories are far from it. If your bodyguard cares, he says nothing. He trails behind you as you approach the large, glass doors, and, upon seeing your safe entrance into the house, turns right on his heels to either kill a man or get a good night’s rest. Depends on how Yoongi’s feeling.

The house is silent, and, why would you think otherwise? As late as it is, no one’s going to be awake. Well, except for that idiot looking longingly at a bag of chips at four in the morning.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asks, perking up when he notices you entering. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing with the bag of chips?” you counter.

“I asked you first.”

“Okay, and I asked you second.”

Jungkook only blinks at you. “Do you know what fun is? I feel like someone needs to teach the Min siblings what fun is.”

“I’d rather you not,” says another voice, prompting you to watch as your brother descends from the staircase.

He looks at you before letting out a sleepy yawn. “What are you doing here? I thought…”

He trails off when he sees that look in your eye. He knows that look. He about leaps off the stairs in an effort to reach you, pulling you to him in a tight hug. You shudder, and your arms slip around his waist to hold him just as tightly, burying your face in his chest.

Now this is definitely the most vulnerable Jungkook’s ever seen you. He, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jin are close. They know each other’s stories, and they’ve crumbled before each other. So Jungkook knows yours and Yoongi’s stories. Knows that you’re both scrambling to find something to cling to before you fall completely. He’s just never seen you fall, and now that he has, he’s not completely sure what to do with himself anymore.

Apparently you’re human, too.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi whispers into your ear. “She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

You nod your head slightly. “I know. It’s just…”

“It’s okay. C’mon, you need to sleep. Gotta have your energy up for when Namjoon calls.”

“Yoongi―you fucker―what is all the noise,” grumbles a deep voice, scratchy and tired.

“Shut up, Taehyung,” Jungkook replies, causing Taehyung to look up in surprise, not expecting to hear Jungkook’s voice. His eyes move over to Yoongi, then to figure in his arms, and his eyes widen. Without another word or explanation, he scoops you up in his arms, carrying you up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom.

“Taehyung,” you protest, “I can sleep on my own.”

“Bullshit,” he answers, throwing you on the bed before rifling through his closet. “If I leave you alone, you’re not gonna sleep until it’s too late.”

“But Tae―”

“Not buts,” he says as he carelessly tosses a shirt at you. “Change.”

He climbs into bed, slipping quickly under his covers. He waits until you’ve just barely pulled his shirt over your head before reaching up and dragging you down onto the mattress.

“Taehyung!”

“Shut up,” he replies, even as he’s sweetly tucking you under the blankets and cuddling into your back. “You have a job to do. Gotta be well rested.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you mumble as sleep overtakes you.

When Namjoon wakes up, it’s not to the pleasant sounds of birds chirping, nor is the love of his life sitting wrapped in his arms. The sun isn’t casting a golden glow into the room, and white sheets aren’t tangled in his legs. Rather, there’s a cacophony of yelling, and with a groan, he pulls himself from his empty bed.

He stumbles into the hallway, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Why the fuck are you yelling at whatever the fuck time it is?”

Over the railing he can see Hoseok and Jimin, obviously freshly woken up, but with only anger on their faces. An unfortunate man―Hojong, if Namjoon remembers correctly―is being met with the biting words of the pair. He flinches a couple times and is sure to avoid eye contact.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammers, “It’s not―I’m just the messenger.”

“Well who the fuck is responsible, then?” Jimin yells, eyes blazing.

“It was just―I don’t know, I’m not on cyber.”

“What are you yelling about?” Namjoon grumbles from his place at the top of the stairs.

Jimin points an accusing finger at Hojong. “Him―this―he―”

“Breathe, babe.”

“We were hacked!”

Namjoon’s suddenly much more awake. “Hacked? Hacked? What the fuck?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says with a tired nod. “Apparently there was hole in the system and information was lost. Thinking it was the Mins. Explains how they knew where to find you at the hotel. We kicked them out before they got much more, but I don’t know what they have.”

“Oh, what the fuck?” Namjoon groans, rolling his head back. “Is there a way to find out what they do know?”

“Uh, our mole has been MIA ever since the night of the hotel incident. With this, I’m thinking that he managed to misinform them enough so they’d send the low-levels that they did, but I think he got found out. No idea where he is now.”

“And there’s no way to find him?”

Hoseok shakes his head solemnly. “He knew what he was getting into when he accepted the mission.”

“Great. We have to keep our plans on the low then. We can’t risk the Mins getting to the senator first, or they’ll have a one up in the government.”

“Then what’s the plan, Sir?”

“Give them a taste of their own medicine. Jimin, do what you do best. Get under their skin. Wreak havoc. Find their weaknesses. I need something―anything―that’s gonna give me a leg up. I want blood.”

Jimin’s face morphs into pure happiness. “I’m on it. What do you want? Members? Connections? Information?”

“Start with connections,” Namjoon says thoughtfully. “See who they know. They’re powerful, make no mistake, and they have influence. If we can tear a hole in those connections, they’ll start falling apart.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Jimin eagerly scurries off (but not without planting a quick kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek), and he’s out the door within seconds. He whips out his phone, scrolling through his multitude of contacts. He’s the Kim’s Joker Card for a reason; he plays his roles well, slipping into the person that suits his needs.

“Jungwoo,” Jimin says over the phone, “I need a favor.”

“What is it?” Jungwoo asks, slipping out of the conference room in his office building. He looks around nervously, making sure no one overhears.

“I need you to do some digging for me. I need something on the Mins.”

“The Mins? What could―”

“You really wanna be asking questions?”

Jimin can hear Jungwoo gulp. “No.”

“Good.”

“Can you be more specific? I don’t know what ‘something’ means.”

“Look higher. Who they have power over. Or maybe, who’s close to them. I need something that’ll get them to back off.”

Jungwoo looks around again before ducking into an empty bathroom and locking the door behind him. “I might have something,” Jungwoo whispers. “But it’s just a rumor.”

“Even the most scandalous of rumors are derived from some truth.”

“There’s a member. Someone who’s close to their inner circle. Close to their leader. A woman, I think.”

“Oh? Yoongi’s got himself a woman?”

“I don’t know. It’s just talk. They say she appears in intervals. Disappears for months, or maybe she’s never there at all.”

“Sounds like a ghost.”

“Maybe she is,” Jungwoo huffs. “But don’t get me involved. That’s all I know.”

“Who’d you hear it from?”

“It’s one of those things that you just kind of overhear. You’re gonna have to hear it from a Min, not me.”

Jimin ponders this and then nods. “Alright, Jungwoo. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Bye.”

Jimin wanders down the streets of the city, letting his mind wander. Who is this woman? What does she know? What influence does she have? Why is Yoongi keeping her a secret?

“Namjoon, I think I found something,” Jimin says into the phone as he continues to walk.

“Oh?”

“Someone. I don’t know. Looks like they might’ve slipped under our radar.”

“A member?”

“Looks like it. High-ranking, too.”

“They’d have to know what they’re doing for us to not know about them.”

“Could also be just a rumor. I’m gonna look into it.”

“Whatever. I need something good,” Namjoon replies with a disheartened sigh. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Joon.”

Namjoon ends the call, rolling back on his bed in exhaustion. Curling back under his covers sounds ideal right about now, but, unfortunately, he has to actually do stuff. He huffs, moving into his closet to change. A grey, perfectly tailored suit hangs, waiting to be used for the day. Namjoon dons the attire and combs his hair back for good measure.

“Looking snazzy, Boss.”

Namjoon groans. “Don’t call me ‘Boss,’ dumbass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hoseok laughs.

Namjoon’s eyes sweep his friend, and he raises his eyebrows. “You’re dressed just as nicely.”

“Well I can’t go into meetings in leather jackets, now can I?”

“Oh my god, let’s just go.”

Hoseok and Namjoon are escorted from the house and into the car, as if someone would attack them in that ten second walk. Namjoon screams internally, but shows no outward emotion.

“So,” Hoseok says when they’re comfortably seated in the car, “did you call her?”

“Huh, what?” Namjoon asks, snapping out of his daydream.

“Did you call her?” Hoseok repeats.

Namjoon hesitates. “No.”

“Call her.”

“I will.”

“Call her now.”

“I’ll call her eventually.”

“Call her now.”

“Why? We have a meeting in like, twenty minutes.”

“Plenty of time for you to call her and ask her out.”

“That’s not really my style, Hoseok,” Namjoon argues.

“What’s not your style? Getting in on with super hot, super mysterious girls that you meet in bars? Or do you always have to have an ulterior motive?”

“I don’t―What?” Namjoon stutters defensively. “There’s no―I have relationships.”

“Sure,” Hoseok scoffs. “When’s the last time that you had a relationship? One night stands don’t count you know.”

“Look, it’s not easy for people like us to date.”

“Uh―”

“Not everyone can find someone fit for this way of life that easily! If I ever told a girl what I did behind closed doors… I mean, she’d leave so fast.”

“You don’t know that. Everybody has their secrets.”

“You saying she has secrets?”

“Course,” Hoseok replies with a shrug. “Why else would she be at Richie’s, a bar deep in Kim territory? She knew what she was doing, man.”

“I mean…”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone, you dick.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“If you don’t give it to me, I’m gonna touch your dick. And then I’ll tell Jimin.”

“What―Is that a threat?”

Hoseok moves forward, and Namjoon immediately holds his hand out in surrender. “Okay! Really trying not to die young!”

Hoseok laughs as Namjoon hands him the phone. “Really that afraid of him, huh?”

“That motherfucker has no conscience.”

“I know,” Hoseok says with a loving twinkle in his eye. “Anyway… What did you save her as?”

“Uh, Y/N.”

“Boring.”

Hoseok dials the number and puts it on speakerphone.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hi,” says Hoseok.

“This doesn’t sound like Namjoon.”

Hoseok looks up at his friend, and Namjoon can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. “Oh. Observant. It’s not.”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Wanted to know when you’re free. Namjoon wants to go on a date with you.”

“Then why doesn’t he ask me himself?”

“Cause he’s not here. I’m doing it for him. So anyway, when are you free?”

“How do I know that you’re not trying to lure me into a trap or something?” you ask suspiciously.

“If you end up dying, you can sue me.”

“For how much money?”

“As much as you want.”

After a few seconds, you respond, “Okay. I’m free after work tonight. I can meet you somewhere.”

Namjoon opens his mouth to say something, but Hoseok answers for him. “Can you meet him at Kim Incorporations, say, seven o’clock?”

“Yeah. Alright.”

“Great!” Hoseok says excitedly. “Bye!”

Namjoon snatches the phone back as soon as the call ends. “You’re a dumbass, you know that?”

“Jimin tells me on a daily basis.”

“Wait, what the fuck?”

“What?” Namjoon looks at his friend, concern on his face. A giggle finds its way out of Hoseok’s mouth. “Oh my god!” he exclaims in realization. “You’re nervous!”

“I am not!”

“You totally are! Oh, don’t worry. I’ll help you plan it.”

“I can do it on my own just fine.”

“Sure, sure. And I’m straight.”

“Please, please, shut the fuck up.”

“Agh, you’re no fun,” Hoseok laughs as the car comes to a stop. “Whatever. Let’s just get through these meetings. You shouldn’t have any after hour visits today, so that gives you time to figure out what you’re gonna do with her.”

“Fine, fine,” Namjoon says, stepping out of the car. Namjoon cranes his neck to see the building in front of him as it reaches into the sky; though people fall over themselves for a job here, he can only look at it in disdain.

Conversations cease when Namjoon walks in, everyone looking to get a glimpse of the young man running the corporation. Namjoon pays them no mind, though, and walks immediately into his office. He glances at the clock once before sitting down to work, and when he looks up again it’s dark outside.

“Ah, shit,” he mutters as he collects his stuff. The door to his office swings open just as he’s about to grab the handle, and he jumps back as his friend steps into the room.

“Oh, shit, sorry, dude. Um, I’m here to tell you that your date is in, like, twenty minutes.”

“Thanks, asshole. I noticed.”

“Where are you taking her?”

“I’ll take her to that nice restaurant on the west side, maybe a stroll or something, and then back home if I’m lucky.”

“A stroll? Back home if you’re lucky?” Hoseok laughs. “Oh my god!”

“What? What?”

“You’re in love,” Hoseok sing-songs.

“Oh my god,” Namjoon groans. “Shut up.”

“You’re in love!”

“I don’t even know her!”

“All I know is that you only take home the girls you wanna impress.”

“Okay,” says Namjoon sheepishly, “maybe I want to impress her, but I’m not in love.”

“Yeah, yeah. But you will be,” Hoseok replies with a cheeky grin. “Anyway… I think you have a date, yes?”

“I’m seriously considering kicking your ass instead.”

“If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll eat your ass.”

Namjoon scrunches his nose. “Why am I friends with you?”

“Cause I do all your dirty work.”

“Hm. I have to go.”

“Have fun! Don’t be too loud when you come home!”

Namjoon grunts, flicking him off as he walks away. A few late-workers greet him as he exits, but he hardly spares them a glance. They look after him desperately, wanting to be recognized or merely acknowledged, but Namjoon is far too occupied thinking about you. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, you’ve been at the forefront of his thoughts ever since you left him high and dry that night.

As Namjoon steps out of the building and into the night, he’s surprised to find you already waiting for him, dressed in red and your head cocked to the side as you lean against the wall.

“So is it just me and you tonight, or is your friend coming along as well?” you ask with a playful smirk.

Namjoon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to him, leaving a gentle kiss on your lips. “I figured it would be more fun with just the two of us,” he whispers.

“Mm, I think I agree.” Namjoon releases you and guides you to the car where a man patiently waits, having watched the entire scene previous. A few eyes follow you to the car, causing you to lean back and murmur, “I think people are watching.”

“Ignore them,” he replies as he slides in after you.

“Am I going to get hate mail after this?” you laugh.

“If you do, I’ll protect you.”

“Will you? Ah, my hero.”

“Do I get a reward?”

“That depends,” you start, scooting closer to him, “on what you want.”

“If I want you?” he mumbles as his face inches closer to yours.

You pause, letting him stir in anticipation, your breaths on each other’s lips. “You can have me.”

He lets out something akin to a growl, his hand once again finding its way around your waist as he pulls you close to him. His lips meet yours in a satisfying kiss, as if you both had been waiting for this since you left in each other.

In truth, you had.

There is not nearly as much meticulous practice or precision to this kiss as your last one. It’s hot and messy as your tongues clash, breaths heavy against one another’s lips. He smiles against you as he angles his head to kiss you deeper. You tug at his shirt, pulling him the slightest bit closer to your body.

And just as quickly as it started, it stopped.

You pull away, panting slightly. Namjoon’s eyes twinkle in delight as they observe the pink tinge to your cheeks. The door opens, and Namjoon steps out first, holding his out for you.

Your hand fits smoothly into his, and you have to remind yourself that you’re here to do a job. Soft music plays from the building in front of you, reminiscent of that night a few days ago, and you can’t help but smile at Namjoon’s particular penchant for the finer things. He escorts you inside, and you’re seated immediately despite the long line of waiting patrons.

The power of the Kim family at work.

“So,” Namjoon says once the two of you are seated, “tell me about yourself.”

“That’s vague,” you laugh. “I’ve already told you about my job.”

“Family?”

“None to note, really.”

“Hm,” Namjoon says, rotating his drink thoughtfully, “I guess it’s just you and me then.”

You lean back, mischief clear on your face. “What exactly does that entail?”

It entails, you come to find out, your legs around his waist as holds you against the wall, sucking roughly on your neck. “Namjoon,” you whimper.

“What is it, baby?” he coos.

“I need―oh, fuck.”

He nips at your collarbone, laughing as you whine under him. “Like that?”

“Y-Yeah,” you reply, your breathing becoming quicker.

“What do you want?” he whispers, his breath hot on your ear.

“Bed,” you answer immediately. He obliges, keeping you tightly wrapped around him as he walks over to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you groan as he climbs on top of you.

“What happened to not sleeping with guys you hardly know?”

“Well,” you say as he rips off your dress, “I think we’ve gotten to know each other a little more.”

“Have we?” he laughs as his shirt falls to the ground.

“If we haven’t, then dinner really was a waste.”

“Well then,” he says, coming down to capture your mouth again, “I think I can make it up to you.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Oh, you’re asking for it.”

“That’s the point,” you giggle as his lips descend on your newly exposed skin. You sigh into the feeling, his breath tickling you as he makes his way down. His kisses are light and gentle, and stark contrast to the way he about rips your panties in half just to see you finally revealed to him.

“Pretty,” he murmurs as he finally touches your pussy.

You moan in pleasure, his long fingers massaging the sensitive skin around you. “Don’t tease me, Namjoon.”

“But it’s far more fun if I do.”

His hands are cold, so you’re shuddering under him, gripping the sheets as you anticipate him touching you further. He’s merciful, finally, after what feels like years of just looking and feeling. A finger dips inside you, retreating when you let out a soft moan.

“You asshole,” you groan.

“What was that?”

“You fucking heard me.”

“Better watch your mouth, baby,” he says as he leans down.

“Or wha―fuck!”

You cry out as Namjoon’s tongue licks at your clit before his mouth encaptures it fully, sucking on it until you’re bucking under him. You can feel him smirking against your skin as he eats you out, fully enjoying the sounds that you’re making. You look up at the ceiling, the sensations leaving you reeling. He kisses down from your clit to your vagina and back up again, leaving no spot untouched. Again, you buck towards him, and he has to hold your hips down in an effort to still you.

“Relax, babe,” he chuckles.

“F-Fuck you,” you gasp as he presses his tongue flat against you.

“Or,” he says, pausing to slide two fingers into you, “I could fuck you.”

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He finger fucks you while sucking on your clit, and your hands shoot down to his head instinctively, grabbing roughly on his hair. You yank slightly, and he groans against your skin. “Oh,” you laugh. “You like that?”

“Do it again,” he commands, and you eagerly obey as he gets back to work on your aching center. His tongue alternates patterns, licking and prodding in different directions as his fingers work inside you. You free one hand from his hair, using it to play with one of your sensitive nipples.

“Namjoon, I’m―”

“Almost there, baby,” he whispers.

“Oh, fuck, oh my god.”

“C’mon, babe,” he says before pulling his fingers against your g-spot.

“Shit!” you exclaim, tightening your grip on his hair.

“You taste so good.”

“I’m getting close… I’m getting close…”

“I know.” He laps at your clit again as he introduces his thumb to help speed along the process. His fingers continue thrusting into you while his tongue and thumb double-team your clit. You gasp, every moan and curse falling from your lips.

“Namjoon!” you shout out, arching your back as your release builds inside of you.

He groans when he feels you clench around him. “Shit, you’re so tight around my fingers.”

“I’m gonna―oh shit, Namjoon, oh my god.”

“Cum for me, babe.”

“Shit, shit, I’m cumming, Namjoon! Fuck!”

With a final cry of his name and twist of his locks, you cum hard on his tongue. You squeeze your eyes shut, and Namjoon has to keep your legs open or risk you suffocating him. Though, the idea of dying between your legs doesn’t sound entirely unappealing.

Your orgasm pulses through you, leaving you slightly light-headed, and the only thing you can do is breathe deeply and stare at the ceiling. Your view is obstructed, however, when a face appears over you, laughing at your state.

“How was that, babe?”

“I…” Anything that you might say falls flat, for words have long since escaped your brain.

“You still alive?” he asks, laughing to hide the etching of concern in his voice.

It takes a minute or two, but finally you’re able to breathe out, “Yeah.”

“Made you cum that hard, huh?”

“Shut up,” you laugh as you pick yourself up, swiftly pushing Namjoon onto his back and straddling him. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Is that a promise?” he asks, mimicking your earlier words.

“Definitely,” you say as you reach behind you to grab his cock. Namjoon gasps at having you finally touch him, his turn to buck into you.

“Fuck,” he groans lowly, eager to finally be inside you.

You want to get him back for the torture he put you through, so you take your sweet time, giving him a couple of soft, slow strokes before positioning yourself over him. He pinches your side, reminding you to get on with it or he’ll have no problem with punishing you for it later.

“You’re so impatient,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“And you weren’t?”

“Fair,” you chuckle as you finally begin easing him inside of you. The both of you gasp, your breathing short as you sit down on him slowly. He fills you entirely, stretching you in all the right ways. He moans when you’re finally fully seated on him, and he thinks you look so fucking good, all fucked out, just for him.

“Ride me, babe,” he says huskily.

You roll your hips on him, moving back and forth until you’re both moaning in pleasure. He’s eager for more, though, desperate to finally cum, and he starts fucking up into you. You yell, grabbing onto his shoulders to keep yourself from falling off.

“Ungh, Namjoon!”

“Shit, you feel so good. So good, Y/N.”

“I’m―oh, fuck.”

“Doing so good, shit.”

He thrusts up into you a few more times before rolling you over onto your back. One hand wraps around both of your wrists while the other holds your hip, and at this angle, it’s easier for him to pound into you relentlessly. His cock touches every part of you, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure.

You briefly wonder what Yoongi would think if he saw you getting fucked by his biggest rival like this.

“N-Namjoon!”

“Shit, babe, you keep clenching around me.”

“It’s feels so good… so good.”

“Yeah?”

He fucks into you a little bit harder, hungry for you the sounds you make when you come apart. He craves it. You’re a strong woman―he knew that the first time he saw you. You’re bold. You’re confident. You do what you want. But here you are, writhing under him, crumbling under his touches, and only he gets to see you like that. It stokes his ego. It gives him power.

“I’m gonna―shit―Namjoon! Oh my god,” you moan, and Namjoon thinks his name sounds better when you say it.

“That’s it, baby, shit, you feel so good. I might cum.”

“I want―yes, yes, yes―I want your cum.”

Namjoon thrusts into you even harder, if possible.

“Are you―ungh―sure?”

“Yes!” you cry, desperate to feel him as you get closer to your high. “Please. Cum inside me, Namjoon.”

“Oh, shit, I’m cumming. Y/N, fuck…”

Namjoon lets out a long, low groan as he cums inside you, one hand furiously rubbing your clit in an effort to get you off too. It works, and you come undone around him, holding onto him as if your life depended on it.

Namjoon’s forehead meets yours, looking at you as he comes down from his high, his breath on your skin. Neither of you say anything for a minute or two, the only sound in the room that of your heavy breathing. Eventually, Namjoon plants a soft kiss on your lips and rolls over, collapsing beside you, one arm slung over your bare stomach. The both of you know you need to get up and clean off, but you’re far too tired to move.

You think you might just fall asleep, cum dripping out of you and sweat sticking to your body, but Namjoon scoops you up in his arms just before you do. He’s surprisingly gentle, and in the back of your mind you can’t help but laugh at the idea that he’s the head of a notorious crime family.

He takes care of you tenderly, making sure you’ve used the bathroom and are properly cleaned up before he tucks you under the covers of his bed. He doesn’t normally do this. He can’t quite believe he brought you all the way back here in the first place, but something about you felt so right.

Just before he falls asleep, Namjoon can’t help wonder if you’d stay with him if you knew who he was.

You’re terribly disoriented when you wake up. You don’t know that door, or that dresser, or that chair, or this bed, or these sheets, or this arm wrapped around you―oh. You roll over and are greeted with Namjoon’s blinking eyes.

“G’morning,” he whispers, his voice thick and sleepy.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’m normally up early. I just didn’t want to wake you up accidentally.

“You’re sweet,” you chuckle.

“And you look good in my bed.”

“Ew,” you say, scrunching your nose as you move to leave.

“No,” he groans, grabbing your arm to pull you back to him. “Stay.”

“I have places to be.”

“You said you didn’t have work today.”

“Fuck, you got me.”

“Then where are you trying to go so fast?”

“Home, you weirdo.”

“Stay here,” he says as he spoons your back, holding you tighter.

“But―”

“C’mon,” he pleads. “You know you want to.”

You finally relent, relaxing into his arms. “Fine.”

After sleeping a bit more, along with some gentle coaxing, you convince Namjoon to shower and get ready for the day (granted, you had to shower with him). While you’re once again in your dress from last night, Namjoon is in a comfortable looking turtleneck, and you can’t help but smile at how good he looks.

He walks with you into the hallway, his arm comfortably draped around your shoulder as he tries to convince you to let him take you home. “C’mon,” he laughs, “it’ll be more fun that way.”

“No,” you say, even as you wrap an arm around his waist. “I’m meeting a friend anyway.”

“I’ll meet your friend then.”

“We barely know each other.”

“We should change that.”

“I have a feeling we will.”

“Is that a promise?”

Namjoon walks you out the mansion where a car awaits you. You kiss him goodbye, and he watches as you disappear from view.

“And?”

You turn to the driver of the car, rolling your eyes. “We literally just went out.”

“Well you stayed over.”

“Yeah, but he’s not about to give me all of his life secrets like that.”

“Fine… Was he good though?”

“Taehyung!”

“It’s a genuine question!”

“I’m not telling you.”

Taehyung shakes his head and returns his attention to the road. “I can’t believe you fucked Kim Namjoon. The Kim Namjoon. Crazy.”

“We do what we need to do.”

“I just never thought you’d do him.”

“Shut up, Taehyung.”

“Can I be there when you report to Yoongi?”

“Shut up, Taehyung!”  

“So you guys fucked?”

“Could you not say it so bluntly?” you groan.

“What? You did, didn’t you?”

“Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to agree with Y/N on this one,” Yoongi says with a disgusted face. “Because gross.”

“I got the job done. That’s all that matters.”

“You guys fucked and you consider it a job well done?” Jin snorts.

You grin a Cheshire Cat smile and from your pocket pull out a small key. “I think it’s a job well done.”

“Woah, woah, woah, what the fuck?”

“This is what you were looking for, right?”

“How the hell did you get it?”

“He fell asleep pretty quickly after we fucked. Just had to poke around his room until I found it,” you say with a shrug.

“No way it was that easy.”

“It was literally that easy,” you laugh.

Yoongi snatches the key from you and inspects it before handing it to Jin. “Good job, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Boss.”

“Think you can do it again?”

“I thought it was a one-time-thing.”

Yoongi shrugs. “The closer you get to Namjoon, the closer we can get to finally bringing them down.”

“So… what’s the plan?”

“See him again. Find out how their system works” Yoongi answers, “and dismantle it.”

[inappropriatefangirlneeds]

Gotham s5ep8 “Nothing's Shocking” Personal Review

“Put a bow on it..”    Warning spoilers below

Hello, old neglected characters, hello detective work and investigations, hello notion that doing bad stuff should have consequences. This sounds like an episode that I should really like but then it turned out to be EHHHHH .. why you gotta do me dirty like this?  BARBARA KEAN & JIM GORDON Two guys are murdered at the Sirens and instead of doing the usual thing Barbara Kean is so kind as to tell the cops. But that´s about it. “Harvey, you're confusing me with someone who cares. I called you as a courtesy.”   Jim Gordon has the audacity and idiocy to keep being an absolute asshole to Barbara. He thinks he got a part in the child´s life and Barbara´s reluctance about that becomes more and more understandable, not that it wasn´t already. And I say reluctance because we have had surprisingly little clear cut messages of Barbara telling Jim to get lost and that he won´t be a part. It´s usually, as it is now, her pointing out how he presses for this. Would Barbara want a Jim that cares for and about the child, but preferable one that recognizes her as more than a horriblepersonTM. She tried to talk about the pregnancy with Jim but he didn´t give her a chance to not make it public like that. I feel like they keep this notion in that she would be open to have Jim in their life, as long as Jim gets his stupid act together?!  At this point I should probably mention the shittyJimLine of this week: “You should think about what kind of person you want to be when it does. It's a chance for you to start anew.”  And context matters. Jim says that right there in the moment where Barbara Kean cared and helped the GCPD. She could have just gotten rid of the bodies and have had none of these troubles. Jim is actually acknowledging zero of this. This is infuriating. Granted there´s a point to be made about her usual method of burying bodies is not the behaviour of a outstanding citizen but who has that in that show. Also give credit where credit is due! And Barbara for sure deserves at least a thank you!  She says the only right thing: “I like who I am.” And I like who she is too, not so much some of the hers that they had her be but right now she really rocks.  And Harvey Bullock´s “That sounds like Barbara”  just highlights this. The show provided us with two Barbara´s right next to each other, one pleading Jim to save her and fulfilling this tired stereotype and one with agency and personality, I guess it´s clear with one is preferable.  Later Barbara returns. Partly because “I thought I'd be a good citizen.” she got some more information to tell them. Knowing Bullock might be a target certainly might have been very useful in another turn of events. So she´s actually being helpful. But all Jim´s probably going to see is her selfish motive. Although I don´t even want to say it´s selfish, her words illustrate really well how precarious her situation actually is. Can you blame her for at least trying to get clarity on that. And she´s even really civil about it, this could have been played very differently. I feel like she´s not there to accuse Jim of this line of behaviour but to figure out if he would do something like that, which isn´t really an unreasonable thought after all. And it kind of feeds my suspicion that they let her act with that underlying notion of it would be nice to have a father but only one that´s decent. But I guess Jim´s not going to see it that way? But at least I doubt that something like this was something he considered doing. Since Walker and her military unit seem to be out of the picture and they were after all antagonists for Jim he indeed wouldn´t have any clue if this list was just a Walker thing or if current authorities would keep that list up. But, but I do also think if things played out like that Jim wouldn´t hesitate to benefit from the situation. “Listen what you said before, about me being a known criminal. I was on some list your army buddy had. When the government rolls in, am I gonna be arrested?” “Honestly, I don't know.” “But that would work out for you, right? I go to jail. You get the baby.” “I don't want that. Is that a promise? “  HARVEY BULLOCK and JIM GORDON being insufferable pt2  “I felt it. I said something, and they told me to keep my trap shut, just close the case, put a bow on it. After a while, I stopped feeling it. And I went down that path for a long time until I met you.” “What do you want from me, Harvey? Forgiveness? Can't give that to you.”  “I just needed you to know.”  Okay so I used to be much more forgiving with this stuff but this week they just went overboard with the misguided righteousness of Jim Gordon. Not only his act with Barbara but with Bullock too. Don´t get me wrong “benching” Bullock in this case was justified, and this puzzle piece of the past that Bullock revealed was interesting and well made, but right at the moment when they make it look like Harvey needs or should care for absolution from Jim Gordon everything just crashes into a wall. Jim IS right he can´t give forgiveness, not when he himself has so much to ask for forgiveness for, but that´s not how they played this line.  [There really isn´t anything to add about the absurdities of judgmental Jim Gordon that @sunlitroom hasn´t already written down]  JANE CARTWRIGHT “That's when Jane Doe was born.”  I liked the investigation stuff about this. First we get Jim being a dickhead. Having recognized how much distress this would put her in he tells her she can only keep her mask if she talks, if not she´s going to forcibly remove it from her face. But at least when he figures that the person does not identify with Cartwright anymore he at least switches to a more sympathetic approach. I liked that much more. “Me? Nothing happened to me.” “Okay. What happened to Jane?”  It slightly reminds me of KAREN JENNINGS both could have become really interesting cases if they had gotten more time. It was pretty clear from the start that Jane´s face would be fine, because well what else. And I kind of appreciate it that they didn´t have Bullock blurt that out, or try to convince her things are fine cause she got nice skin or something. At least they kept it clear what this character and her issues were about. It seems that the acts of the police guy took a toll on her but she didn´t turn “that bad” until Strange´s experiments. I think it would have been interesting to keep her around (see I still don´t want to hear about the cancellation) and go a bit deeper into who is “at fault” here.  Instead of Bullock just shooting here. Obviously both police and “medic” malpractice seem to basically go hand in hand here.  I didn´t full get the “You made Jane into a killer.  You and your friends. There have to be consequences.” Line? Was this about her killing the police men, or about her testifying against her parent? Or caused Strange to do her anything else, which ultimately was the guys fault too cause they cause her to be a warden of the state and got here into Arkham?  Also the following “You killed three men already.” “When is it enough? When you're dead.” Could make for good meta comparing the REVENGE AND GUILT CIRCLE that surrounds Oswald Cobblepot.  The cases are different enough that this would be interesting  “Ask your friend”  If they had just omitted her remarks in the Sirens scene or something I think this line could have had much more impact. Sure for Jane it was probably important that the police guys knew why they were murdered but if we as a audience had just gotten something more vague and in general more vagueness after I think this spotlight shift on Bullock could have been so much more dramatic.   * HUGO STRANGE “was obsessed with the power to change. The way a chameleon would change its skin. He wanted humans to have that power. He made it so Jane could change her skin her bones, her hair, the color of her eyes. All it takes is a single touch, and her body becomes a mirror. When it's done, she sheds her skin and starts anew. It remembers everyone it touched. It's touched you, Detective.”    I wonder if this skillset was a particular objective of the COURT OF OWLS. I remember them pestering him for results, but not quite which one? Or was this more a personal interest of Hugo Strange, but now it seems he´s following other kinds of things so maybe not unless the current situation forces him as well to focus on doing things that clients pay him for.  After all for an organisation like the Court of Owls that would be a very valuable skill.  BRUCE WAYNE & ALFRED PENNYWORTH   So a woman tells them about a monster and missing people, they contemplate telling Jim Gordon but recognize he´s got all hands full. So they just walk through icky, toxic puddles until someone runs into them scared of someone coming. I want to scream at them why are you still there, get the man out of this place and into safety, he told you the others were dead, that´s what you here for. Why even did he stop running? And indeed he seems to be in danger for a while but luckily at the end he makes it out. Which is nice, if only Jane and Penn could have had the same fate.  So then about this one particular conversation between them: “We should've went to Gordon from the start. We were reckless.” “Ah, that's nonsense. We took decisive action. We saved a man's life. The people in this city have suffered, Master Bruce. They need someone that will protect them.” “I agree. But there are better ways to find absolution. “I, um, I don't follow.” “What happened to Wayne Manor wasn't your fault. I know you've been blaming yourself. You didn't destroy our home, Alfred.” “But I feel like I did. I feel like I wasn't strong enough to fight Tetch or that bastard Valeska. I feel like because of my weakness, you lost your last tie to the past. You lost your home, Master Bruce. I must never be that weak again.” “Part of being a family is that we can be strong for each other.” “And when did you get so smart? I had a good teacher.”  I don´t follow, why would Alfred look for absolution with getting Bruce into another dangerous situation? Wouldn´t he like maybe send Bruce to tell Jim about it and run off to try handle the situation himself or something?  Also holy shit batman, that´s how you get batman. Alfred telling Bruce straight away that the people need someone, aka.Bruce to protect them that´s, that´s a hand full. Especially in this context of Bruce talking about how it might have been better to involve the police. Like he downright says: This was reckless. We should have told the police. But Alfred is like No! I get that the “nonsense” comment is meant to deflect any doubt that they didn´t cause good and that´s not a bad notion but maybe something at least like, an argument about how going to the police and get them to act would have taken longer and the husband would have gotten ripped to shreds by the time they would have been there .. or some reasoning would be easier to stomach than a .. NO! Go turn into batman! Vigilante Justice RuleZ. 

Also Noticeable with Harvey Bullock & Jim Gordon it´s FORGIVENESS and with Bruce & Alfred it ABSOLUTION  there´s got to be some meta in this, it certainly links back to the Bruce/Jim contrasts and parallels …  Just that we have Harvey arguably having done something wrong (or at least not right) looking for forgiveness from someone who has no business giving that. And then there is absolution that can´t be given because it´s not necessary cause Alfred has no business feeling guilty because it wasn´t his fault.  

Sooooooooooo then this last bit. Getting MR. PENN back was a blessing, after word spread I was worried that I wouldn´t like the Mr. SCARFACE stuff but I actually really enjoyed how they set that up but now I hate that they gave and took a second later. Bring him back again you fools!  So Mr. Penn just woke up in the GCPD morgue after being shot and patched himself up. Surely, he can do that again after being shot by Ed? Right? Riight?  I am not happy about Penn´s death 2.0. This was so unnecessary but I should have seen it coming right away. They started the scene with Oswald pointing out Edward´s “paranoia” which Edward promptly counters with saying there IS someone watching them. Which is why he has the alarm bells. It should keep people out. No one else allowed. Nygma is not happy at all that Oswald brought the muscle in and I feel like if the “mute and dumb as a post” line had not hit right in Edward´s superiority complex (like what kind of threat is a dumb person to him .. ) he would have taken measures against this guys presence if not right away then soon. But it seems pretty clear that EDWARD NYGMA just won´t tolerate anyone else on this project. This apart form the construction work seems to be the strongest focus he has. Moreover Mr. Penn is not only just some random intruder. When Penn talks to Oswald about the “treasure” he lowers his voice and his gazes at Edward make clear that he´s still treating this as a secret between Oswald and himself. There is a connection that is a threat to Edward, and I guess if he didn´t decide right away that was the moment that sealed the deal. Like as long as he was just some lunatic Edward was ready to just do his own thing and have Oswald deal with this nuisance (fitting considering Oswald just gave a speech that proclaimed he´d been working on just quite those kinds of issues)    Which in NYGMOBBLEPOT terms makes me wonder how much acting and how much truth was in Edward´s words. Granted even if he chooses to say what he said as a strategy early on then this does not negate it being things he thinks as well, but it might not been that conscious?!  Using people and spitting them out, Oswald deserving this, him being opportunistic, shaky loyalty, selfish and hurting others that´s all things Edward might actually agree with.  And at that point of tangled emotional personal relationship mess I just got to link to @littlehollyleaf because this post says everything about 1.) Ed possibly recognizing something from himself in Penn, with a personality that manifests in parts, 1a.) which he recognizes considering his own issues as a persistent threat despite the “free” revelation, 1b.) hostility due to projected self loathing 2.) Jealousy and preceding incidents of this liking (Butch and him rivaling over Oswald)  3.) With 1 & 2 combined you get a parallel of Penn/Ed caring for Oswald, then being treated not so nicely, then resentment and later Oswald as someone that “fixes” their split 1b.) then would also be the rejection that Ed is a “lunatic” like that  Nevertheless, Oswald talking about being alone, claiming seeing/recognizing Penn for what he was must be worth something culminates in the Nygmobblepottery that his Edward throwing this idea right back at Oswald and claiming that Oswald sees and accepts him for what he is which means their friendship works and they got some common ground [Eh idk, if it would work, would Ed feel threatened that easily .. just saying .. ]  Anyway recognizing and valuing people for what they are?! Did I say I love Oswald, lately cause I do. Is Edward right though? ~~ If Oswald wasn´t loyal at all I feel like a lot of people would be dead by now, isn´t he the one plagued by betrayals. But then again if Jim shared his “BarbaraBad”Goggles then I guess this could be seen as Oswald just keeping them around for selfish reasons, like he would only protect people because he thinks he can use them later, or like as trust investment that pays off later.  ~~ Does Oswald deserve this? Eh, with Penn I´m leaning towards a firm kindaish ~~ Cold Logician? Eh, Edward is more an emotional drama bitch?  EDIT: Yes @vampirebillionare got to the root of this issue: while I think Ed isn’t quite right about him being a “cool logician” that’s the only way he knows how to phrase “I’m not good with feelings and sometimes I’m going to do what I think is best or what I feel compelled to do even if it hurts you, but you understand that about me and you’re still here” ~~ I am 100% convinced Oswald remembered PENN´s name. It was just the Doylist thing that the original Ventriloquists name was Arnold Wesker, and while this is a nice nod, Oswald would have remembered the name, fight me!  ~~  Edward saying “Dummy” is awesome because not only does it sound like he´s insulting Oswald but it also totally reminds of the corrective “IsabellA”  Back to MR. PENN AND SCARFACE  I actually really loved this. Because Mr. Penn getting a puppet that says what he can´t is really relatable. He can just outsource and shift all the blame on Scarface. It was even the puppet that found him! Not the other way round! Wonderful. And as short as it was and even despite them showing us nothing of the transition period, I would vote this as one of the better origin stories. Like it´s got more going on than being “aged” and being “aged again”.  I feel like I understand that someone like Penn could get out of his turtle shell by proxy like that. You still have this “he” wouldn´t ever do that, and a preservation of his character but also enough change to buy that he´s acting differently now. There´s also a great focus on motivation and personal relationship. Maybe it´s due to his profession that he kept track of everything that well and can list all of Oswald´s shortcomings but it just feels like what happened gets accounted for. Like all those other messes where characters pretty much must have had some blind eyes to act like they did, I don´t think that would fly with Penn. Related to the change, just basically dying is a good “trigger” point. I absolutely buy that this would get him to a point where he is like. Look where everything got me so far. Time for something different. Just that he´s aiming for something that he doesn´t really want, something that he isn´t really. He doesn´t want what Oswald has and does but obviously he´s had no tools to demand the recognition that he wanted before and at that point that whole horse has left the barn so it´s understandable that he wouldn´t just go straight back to status quo and some more demands but to a new thing altogether.  Althought it´s not so new entirely, cause there still is this issue of who he is and what he actually wants.  And because isn´t Scarface partly an Oswald substitute?!  First of all the introduction goes straight from “Mr. Cobblepot this is Mr. Scarface.” don´t tell me that´s not a parallel. (In 4x14 I think he consistently calls Don Falcone ~Don~ Falcone, there´s also no reason Scarface had to have a Mr. before his name … )  Then just the “Mr. Scarface is very persuasive.”  I know it´s also a reflex of shifting the blame, if Scarface is good at what he´s doing, Penn just got no other chance but it also used to be one of Oswald´s defining qualities. And then of course it´s Oswald comparing himself to Scarface and pointing out even if he was manipulative he was not as horrible with it than Scarface is. While pointing out they have different goals/methods he´s basically acknowledging that they got something in common for a moment.  It´s just amazing how Scarface on the one hand is an ENABLER that should “free” Penn from the likes of Oswald Cobblepot but at the same time he´s subjecting himself to quite a similar dynamic/relationship because that´s what he actually wants.  Also OSWALD COBBLEPOT in this.  I love how he goes from chiding Nygma for “playing along with his psychosis” right to “The dummy was the threat” aka to actually “believing” the content of said psychosis.  Or like rather understanding why the dummy is there and how it works for Penn. Aka. seeing he in fact doesn´t want murder/gold/beingboss. So of course in between there´s Oswald figuring out something about Mr. Penn. The dummy is indeed the threat, Oswald doesn´t have to care about the “treasure” and “being boss”. Scarface isn´t there to grant Penn this, and this is when Oswald targets the relationship. He recognized that this isn´t what Penn is or wants and he´s ready to treat Scarface as a different entity to undermine their relationship. He understands that Scarface ins some way actually is forcing Penn.  Pointing out that he, knowing Penn would never asked something so severe of him works, saying that he accepted him for who he is and valued him for that and not something that he isn´t works too. And omg him shooting the dummy was such a good moment. Can we just, honour their relationship and start over at “Mr. Cobblepot you freed me, how can I ever thank you”  Because Oswald Cobblepot had a prime chance to be every nasty thing that has just been said about him. Not even that, he could just shoot the man that pointed a pistol at him and not load to much guilt on his shoulders because that´s what you get going around pointing guns at people, so I wouldn´t even call that overly nasty.. Yet he does NOT do that. That´s got to be worth something, give it room to grow.   And moreover Penn says he was ALONE waking up in the gcpd I wonder if Oswald intentionally threw that bit about him being Alone in too, cause Oswald indeed feels alone (just all that “only friend” talk the past episode) and Penn did too , so much he fixed himself another Oswald .. PENN & NYGMOBBLE RELEVANT QUOTES  ** “That's where Mr. Scarface found me.” “And he told me all about you. How you used him. Chewed him up and spat him out. Treated him like a palooka!” “That's a lie!” “Oh, please, Oswald. It's what you do.” “Arnold, Arthur. What do you want?” “I don't want anything. But Mr. Scarface, well he wants your treasure. And to be boss.”  ** “What am I doing? I'm talking to a doll.” “Dummy.” “Seriously?” “ You know what, Oswald? Honestly, you deserve this.” “Nobody asked you.” “You are opportunistic, your loyalty is shaky, at best, and you will hurt anyone, anyone to get what you want.”  ** “I cannot believe that you told him about the sub. And that you're playing along with his psychosis.” “Obviously, he was gonna kill you.  I bought us time.” ** “You accuse me of manipulating you, but what about him? I never asked you to kill anybody.” “That is true.” ** “And yes, I was not a good friend. To you or to anyone. It's why I'm alone. But I saw you for what you are, and I valued that. That must be worth something.” ** “Why did you do that? He wasn't the threat. The dummy was the threat.” Oswald. I accept you for the person that you are.  Just as you accept me for the cold logician that I am. That's why this friendship is great. And as friends, I think we can both agree that that lunatic had to be stopped.” “Perhaps, Edward we really are meant for each other.”  ** “Mr. Cobblepot. You freed me. How can I ever thank you? “ MORE RANDOM NICE LINES * “And as safe as I feel with your jingle bell contraption in place, I went out and procured us some muscle.  You're welcome.”  Teamwork is a two way street, just sometimes you got to ride that one street to recognize that it´s indeed rocky,  * “I've been working on the sonar, which, turns out, is far more complex than I anticipated.” “Well, I am confident you will figure it out.” “Of course I will figure it out.”  I´m glad they recognize that building a whole submarine from scratch just can´t happen like that, not even with Ed,  *  “He?Who?” It sounded like that one meme that I can´t spell, I´m still giggling  * “Penn, show these dewdroppers we're serious.” “palooka” “ventilate that mook” “applesauce” “Now let´s talk turkey turkeys” ~~ Someone needs to write about Mr. Scarface´s dated vocabulary //gotham language//  * “Shut it! Let the smart one talk.” *  “After you get your tiny wooden hands on that treasure”  

* “Then no” The scene between HARVEY BULLOCK and his old partner DIX  and all the guilt but also comapssion involved was incredibly well done and emotional. I just wish they hadn´t gotten rid of the character.

[peeterparkr]

Promises. pt. 1 p.p.

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED INFINITY WAR DON’T READ THIS

GO AND WATCH THE MOVIE

AND THEN READ THIS

I’VE WARNED YOU

part 1/ part 2 / part 3/  part 4

anon asked: I’m still sobbing after IW, are you taking requests? Would you write a Stark!reader x Peter in which she goes up with them (tony and peter) to space?

pairing: stark!reader x Peter Parker

word count: 4.2k

warnings: it’s INFINITY WAR SO SPOILERS, AND OKAY THIS WILL BE SAD, swearing, this is short but I need to process everything and this will be  series because I’m still deciding where exactly I will try to go with this, oh and it turned out to be shit so sorry. 

MASTERLIST

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tags: @spidergirlwanab @dracxnic-archangel @purepeterparker @dorisagent101 @hollandharrison @peters-vlogs @daughter-of-the-fandoms @fame-works-quicker  @starsholland

 If you looked ‘Stubborn’ up, the first thing that’d appear would be your picture. Your father said it was your middle name. Y/N Stubborn Stark. It had a ring to it.

But it wasn’t like you were the only one carrying that name, for you knew you had got your name singlehandedly from him, you would even erase his actual name just to make the perfect acronym for him: Anthony Stubborn Stark, better known to you as ASS.

You loved your father, though. Even if you had kept secrets from him, you wouldn’t doubt twice to save up his ass. It had come to you that whenever he was proud of you, it had rather become a rather pleasant outcome.

When you looked up to the sky from the compound, you knew your father would be near the rounded cosmic flying spaceship, it was landing in New York. Sure, Tony Stark had to be there. It wasn’t unknown to you that whenever problems were fired: your father would be up there, fighting chaos. Sometimes he was the chaos.

So as you saw the circle getting closer to the ground, a part of you wanted to fight down, finally prove your father you were as capable as he was to fight. You wouldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you fight, after all, you had grown up with some of the Avengers and you had learned some technique by yourself. You were young, passionate and just as smart as he was, even smarter, you’d say.

“You are a teenager,” he would answer. So was Peter and Peter had a suit. Peter Parker. Your relationship with Parker had become an envious love-hate snapping from both of you. Unintentionally peeking with a bit of flirty, quirky and mellow encounters. A bit of tease, a bit of a flirt, and just, overall a dancing rollercoaster.

You were friends, friends who sometimes couldn’t stand each other, and friends who sometimes crossed a few lines. Yeah, you had a crush on him, and sometimes the teasing between each other led to an ‘almost kissing’ situation, but it would always end up in a roasting each other contest.

However, Peter faced the same struggle as you did every day, trying to convince your father that you were both more than he thought of you both.

Tony Stark gave you your own merit, and when it had come to the new nanotechnology he was developing,  you had helped him up building the new suits, deep inside you knew Tony knew about the features you had included for yourself. Tony was aware he couldn’t stop your eager excitement and your love for adventure and science, so as the years went by he turned a blind eye to make sure you had your fun.  

Even though your stomach was fighting to stay inside yourself, you toned it down, knowing that this was your chance to prove yourself, to finally convince your father you could be the one to help him. The opportunity had puffed, and you were bound to believe the audacity beneath wouldn’t fail you.

You snuck into his lab, and found the other nanosuit, you knew you’d be taking risks, but something about this didn’t feel right, a part of you knew you could lose him, and certainly, you didn’t want to be the one to blame if anything happened to your father. It was a sentiment you couldn’t fight off.

You suited up, as you flew your way to New York, adrenaline busting you up. Catastrophes had their own way to swallow you down, making every inch of you radiate with energy. But this time, you were scared, because as you were approaching, the air didn’t seem like another fight that someone could easily brush away.

“Hey, Friday, call Peter Parker,” you implored as you were approaching the city.

“Hey, aah, Hey y/n!” He answered as you heard him struggle, as you realized that he probably was already there. But you saw the flying spaceship going back into air.“I’m kinda busy right now…”

“You near the flying donut?” You asked him and he kept yelling. “Peter.”

“Yeee-yes, y/n, this is way-”

“Hey, I’m on my way, any heads up?” You asked.

“What in this world do you mean you’re in your way?” You heard your father’s voice as you whispered some cuss words.

“Mr. Stark… I’m… I’m going up, I could use a little help” Peter Parker was saying, and you felt your whole body tense up, shuddering.

“I meant I’m on my way,” you snapped. “Peter, what do you need-”

“Y/N! Go home,” Your dad ordered and you were cussing, trying to fly higher. He ordered to release something, but you weren’t truly listening as you were busting higher and higher, closer to the spaceship.

“Miss Stark your father has ordered me to send you home,” Friday answered.

“Ignore that, we’re closer to the spaceship than to the ground anyway,” you ordered and you watched how another suit was flying by. It was your father. You weren’t sure why you were following up the spaceship, but Tony was following so you thought you’d follow his path. A thing which wasn’t as smart, after you gave it a second thought.

“Y/N!” You heard Peter whisper.

“Peter?”

“Y/N get your ass back home!” Tony ordered and you were both flying to the circled spaceship. You focused and saw the red and blue glued to the center.

“Friday. Is that-?” you asked and the AI confirmed it. “Peter, don’t tell me you’re up there,” you begged, as you were seeing your father flying after the spaceship.

“He is, and he is running out of air,” the AI added as the suit was dragging you down. “Your dad ordered me to send you home.”  

“Friday, I want you to erase all of my father’s orders and send me up there or else we’re losing them both,” You ordered Friday as the suit powered up, and you saw Peter Parker, gripping for his life. “This is code red.” Friday got you and impulsed the suit higher.

“I’m...I’m running out of air,” Peter’s voice came like daggers to you, you weren’t aware of what was happening. Until it hit you, you were flying into space. This wasn’t how you had figured out you’d prove yourself. A capsule of sorts flew beside you, you managed to catch Peter as he had let go of the spaceship. You were seeing a knocked out Peter on your hands, but the capsule that had followed you up released and took Peter out of your grasp, and suited him up with the Iron Spider armor you and your father had designed for him. You suddenly felt a relief cover you up, as you landed beside Peter. He glanced at you and realized your suit was smaller, and with more golden assets than your father.

“This smells like a new car,” he said, still taking a glance at his own new suit. “Y/N, is that you?”

You besieged him and wrapped your arms around him, thanking every possible deity you could think of to keep him safe. He hugged you back.

“You could’ve died, asshole,” you said and he held you tighter.

“Okay, you could’ve both died so go home, now, Friday send them both lovebirds home,” Tony answered and both you and Peter were dragged back into the earth as a parachute opened up from Peter’s suit to bring you to the ground.

“Oh c’mon!” Peter complained as you gripped tighter to him.

“Cut the connection with my father, Friday,” you ordered and as you burned the parachute off, and flew back to the spaceship.

“You’re an idiot, Parker,” you said as you glanced at him.

“I missed you too, Stark,” he said as you both climbed up around the spaceship. “Thanks for -um, catching me.”

“I should’ve let you fall,” you joked and he didn’t answer straight away, so you felt guilt running through your veins. “Are you okay?” you asked him, concerned.

“We’re both headed to space and I stopped breathing for a bit, but yes, I’m okay,” he answered and cleared his throat. “What about you?”

“I’m fine,I really thought I could’ve lost you,” you said. “So, what’s up?” You asked him. “Illustrate me in all of this shit.”

“Okay, so, this hit up New York, Bruce Banner is back, there were two guys fighting us, we got rid of one, but the other one, he looked like Voldemort, managed to fly away with this wizard.”

“Wizard,” you repeated his word. “Wizard?”

“Yes, he’s got this cool cloak and he’s protecting this stone of sorts”

“So, we’re basically reviving the Harry Potter franchise, great,” you said as you were both looking for a door, and entered into the spaceship as quiet as possible, you both took a glance as you saw your father. “I have a bad feeling about this,” you said.

“That’s Star Wars, idiot, not Harry Potter but okay,” Peter teased and you could sense his smirk from down his mask.

“I’m not quoting anything, I actually-” You were interrupted.

“Mr. Stark is receiving a call from Ms. Potts, want me to connect you, too?” Friday asked.

“Oh, no, no, I’m already going to be grounded in my entire life for being up here,” you gushed.

“So, did you come up here to save me?” Peter asked teasingly.

“To save up the world, actually, dumbass,” you chided.

“You were scared of losing me,” he mocked with pride, and you took off your mask just so he could see you glaring at him, he just stared back.

“Okay, I feel stupid, I just winked at you, but the mask…” he cleared his throat and a small smile spread across your face as your own mask came back on, and you entered deeper into the spaceship, stopping as you saw the supposed wizard being held up in the air with what you thought it was needles surrounding him and pointing it up, as the Voldemort-faced alien was trying to get information out of him. “That’s Voldemort?” you asked Peter as he nodded, sticking to the ceiling. “What does he want this stone for?” You asked.

“I don’t know,” Peter answered. “Look, I really think your dad needs to know we’re here so he doesn’t blow this up,” confided Peter

“Miss, I’m losing my connect-” Friday shut down and you felt your shuddering body tell you this was way worse than you thought. Somehow this battle hadn’t even started but you felt like you were losing already. You got closer to Tony, as you watched as the iron man was looking up from another floor the wizard and as the red cape touched his shoulder. He pointed his hand at the cape.

“You’re really loyal, huh” Tony said.

“you first,” you demanded Peter in a whisper and he shot a web and slid down over to Tony.

“Speaking about loyalty, Mr. Stark,” he said.

Tony scowled, as he watched Peter take off his mask.

“I told you to go home,” Tony retorted.

“Yeah, dad about that,” you chipped in, your father watched as you took as well your mask.

“What in the world are you doing here, Y/N?” His voice indicated more fear than anger.

“Look, I just… being honest, Peter’s parachute got tangled up with this, and well, we were already here, and I don’t want you to face this alone.”

“Y/N, why would you do this? This is a one-way ticket, and I can't believe you stole a suit and risked your effing life for this.”

“You’re risking it too,” you complained. “I’m sorry but I can’t afford to lose you.”

“No, y/n, you’re being irrational-”

“You really think I didn’t give it a second thought?” You argued back, as Peter watched you both.“I’m here and I’ll do anything to impede any of you two dying,” your words were clear, and strong.

“And if you’re the one to die?” Tony scowled.

“I’m pretty sure neither of you would let me,” you snapped and Tony blinked, defeated.

“You had one job Parker,” Tony looked at him. “Stay close to the ground.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark but I can’t be friendly neighborhood Spiderman if there isn’t any neighborhood.”

That hit you right, but Tony scowled watching him.

“Look, I don’t know what I’m saying, and that made no sense, but y/n and I  really know what we’re doing, you got that.”

“No, you don’t, you’re two teenagers.”

“And you’re most likely suffering from senile dementia,” you snapped. And Tony, sighed, defeated.

“Well, if we’re doing this, then, any ideas?” You three stepped in front, kneeling down to see the wizard, and the alien.

“Let’s kill his Horcruxes,” you whispered to Peter, and he snorted back a laugh. Tony glared at you. “Sorry, I know, no times for jokes.”

“Okay, have you guys seen this really old movie-” Peter started and you got his idea right away.

“Alien,” you and Peter said at the unison and he smiled at you, nodding. Tony scowled and sighed.

“I can’t believe I’ll be stuck in space with two teenagers,” he muttered under his breath. You watched as the living cloak was standing between you all.

“Y/N Stark,” you offered your hand and the cloak rose aside to shake your hand and you smiled at. Peter tried copying your introducing moment but failed completely as the cape was quick to fly away from him.

“Okay,”  Peter sighed, and you chuckled patting him on the back.

You wrapped up the plan, and before you could count on it, you flew down.

“I think you should let him go, Voldemort,” You said as the alien turned around to see you.

“You’re not…”

“Oh, I know,” you laughed.

“You can’t save up your friend,” the alien’s words were like venom. Tony flew his way over to you, as you were both pointing your hand at him.

“Being honest, I don’t even know him,” you answered.

“And he’s not my friend, this is more like doing the political and correct thing, you know a kind of courtesy,” Tony followed you up.

“Even if there’s two of you, your suits won’t be able to defeat my power,” the alien smirked as he rose his right hand, ready to attack you both.

“Good thing we’re film nerds,” you said as you blasted a hole open the side-wall, as the alien was dislodged through it, but the Wizard was also pulled, so Peter was quick to shoot a web at him, and try to stop him from going into space. Peter was hanging from a web, and you saw how he was dragged into the hole. Your heart stops, but the suit is quick to pull up the mechanical arms, to help Peter.

“Damn, what are those?” he yelled and you were quick to fly down and help him with the Wizard as your father closed the gap in the spaceship. You both landed on the floor, leaving the Wizard to walk. Both Peter and you stayed behind.

“Who are you?” the wizard complained with a frown, as both you and Peter.

Your head showed and you watched the guy.

“Y/N Stark,” The wizard called you before you could even say it.

“I’m Peter by the way,” he walked up offering a hand, which was rejected by the wizard as he glared at him.

“Doctor Strange,” the wizard answered and you frowned.

“Oh, we’re using our made up names, then… I’m Spider-Man,” Peter puffed up his chest.

“What in this world are you doing here?” Doctor Strange glared at Tony. “You brought two teenagers? That was your plan.”

“We just saved you, you could say thank you,” you pointed out.

“You know, you should’ve disappeared when I told you to,” Tony crossed his arms. “Bet you’re regretting that now.”

The Doctor didn’t answer. “You can bring us down to earth, then?” He asked.

Now, it was your father’s time not to answer.

“No, this guy, Thanos, he’s been in my head for 6 years, ever since New York I’ve been thinking about him, he’s the one to send Loki, and I’m sorry, but there’s another infinity stone right there, and I’m sure, I prefer bringing the fight to him rather than have him destroy earth.”

You and Peter glanced at each other unsure of what was going on.

“You prefer risking your daughter,” Doctor Strange said, and Peter snuggled closer to you. “So you say you want to bring the battle to him?”

You felt cold. Thanos, you didn’t know anything about that name, but it felt like bad news.

“I say, let’s stop him before he comes to the world,” Tony said. “I’m not risking her, I know she can take care of herself.”

“Okay, so she’s your daughter,” Strange pointed at you. “And he is your… protege? Or are you his mentor?”

“No,” Peter scowled.

“Ah, so the young Stark brings her boyfriend,” Strange concluded and both Peter, Tony and you were quick to correct him.

“THEY ARE NOT DATING.”

“HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND.”

“I THINK WE ARE NOT EVEN FRIENDS.”

Strange rolled his eyes but then turned to Tony.

“I just want you to know, Stark, when it comes to the kid, your daughter, you or the stone, I won’t hesitate on saving the stone.”

The three of you stayed quiet.

“So we’re just… going into space?” You addled as you watched Tony walking over to Peter.

He patted him in on both shoulders, as a knight.

“Kid, you’re an Avenger now,” Tony said as Peter’s face lit up and smiled, he turned to you proud of himself and you stepped up to your father. You cleared your throat.

Tony raised an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, yeah,” he walked over to you, placing his hand on your shoulder and you closed your eyes smiling, you had waited all your life for this. “You’re grounded,” Tony said as he walked away.

You scowled and threw your hands up in the air, as Peter burst out laughing. You glared at him and hit him on his shoulder. He smirked as you were taking off the armor, slowly disappearing. He watched you impressed.

“That’s an amazing armor, too bad you’re not an Avenger,” he teased as you crossed your arms and walked away, watching the space. “Oh c’mon, don’t be mad.”

You weren’t mad, you were afraid and disappointed. You were terrified, and excited. You were confused and zoning out.

Tony and Strange were backing up, discussing something. Fear was read across your father’s face and you knew it was partly because you were here, but it definitely had everything else with that Thanos guy.

“Y/N,” Peter said standing next to you.

“Peter,” you frowned as you watched him.

“We are in space,” he stated as he looked out. It looked so beautiful, and so unexpectedly scary. The stars were amazing, everything that you had dreamed of. You nodded as you watched it.

“It’s beautiful,” you said as it was taking your breath away, Peter smiled and he turned to you.

“You know what else is beautiful?” He asked and you felt your stomach shrink, and your skin to flutter.

“What?” You asked him, not sure if you were ready to take a step up with Peter.

“Being an official Avenger,” he smirked as he laughed jumping off. You scowled and pushed him away. “Oh,” he wiped off a fake tear. “This is going to be fun.”

“Aren’t you scared?” you asked, turning to him, stepping over so you’d be inches apart. He gulped and looked down at you.

“No… this is fun,” he babbled. “I mean, we can do this, right?”

“I guess we can, but, we’re stuck in this flying donut with a stranger, whose name is actually Strange, my dad has that look and I’m not sure, we don’t even know what stone they’re talking about.”

“I think we should go ask,” you said and turned around.

“Hey, y/n, wait,” he took you by your arm and you looked up at Peter. “I know that we haven’t been on the best of terms lately, but, really, thank you for catching me.”

“Anytime,” you smiled, as you both made your way to Tony and Strange. “So who will we fight?”

“His name is Thanos,” Strange started watching you. “He is looking for the 6 infinity stones, he already has 2 of them, or that’s what we know, .”

“Infinity stones,” you raised an eyebrow.

“There are 6 of them, the power stone, the reality stone, the mind stone, the space stone, the soul stone and the time stone,” The doctor said pointing at his chest. “If he gets his hand on all of them, he will destroy half the universe. Already having two makes him the most powerful being in the galaxy.”

“And we are going to just go and fight him? Basically, hand him this stone?” You scowled. “Why don’t we just destroy it before he can even touch it? You know, let’s just toss it in space, or blow it up!”

Tony nodded and the Doctor rolled his eyes. “You can’t deny family.”

“But why? I mean, she’s right,” Peter intruded.

“We swore to protect it,” Strange hissed with venom and you and Peter scowled.

“Where are the other stones?” you asked.

“Vision has the mind stone,” your father exhorted. “I guess Banner will take care of that one.”

“Which ones does he have?” asked Peter as he reached over for your arm.

“Space and power stone,” Strange answered. Or maybe he could have more. Your hand reached for Peter and you squeezed him. His hand was as cold as yours as if you were just getting the whole scenario and fear was taking control of you.

“What’s the plan?” your voice came out deeper than expected.

“Now, can we just… the adults are talking here, please,” Tony said.

“But dad-”

“Yeah, I don’t want to speak to you right now, please, go and kiss Parker or whatever you guys do,” Tony said. “I need to figure out a way in which we can defeat him.”

You didn’t answer and felt how your blood was burning up in rage. You knew your father was angered at you, but not talking to you even when you were about to face probably the scariest and most dangerous thing that you could face was a risk you weren’t willing to take.

You were about to snap at him, but Peter placed his arms around you and pulled you away. Taking you back to the window like surface.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he marveled.

“Peter,” you glanced up at him. “Promise me something.”

He glanced down at you.

“We will live, for each other, at least,” you strained.

“I promise.”

“Peter, you don’t understand,” you said. 

“No, I do.” 

“No, Peter, I really mean it, I… I really don’t know where we are going, and I’m stuck here with you.”

He chuckled and looked down. “I guess I am scared too.”

“We can’t let my father die, either,” you said. “I can’t lose him.”

He hugged you, tightly, and for the first time in your life, his hug wasn’t teasing it wasn’t anything near from your other hugs, it was a knowing hug.

“You won’t, I promise,” he assured you. But you knew Peter didn’t mean his promise, because there were certain promises you couldn’t take if you weren’t able to make them. This was one of them. “But promise me something then.”

You looked up letting him go.

“I won’t lose you either.”

You didn’t want to answer, you didn’t want promises you couldn’t keep. And you knew, that when it came to save Peter or your father, you had to take risks.

“Y/N, promise me,” he placed his hands on your shoulders and looked at you straight in the eye.

“I promise, Parker,” you alleged. “You worry about me?” You tried to tone down the conversation with a smirk.

“Oh, please, don’t,” he blushed as he looked away, letting you go. “I just want you alive so I can kill you myself.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you smirked.

“And we both know you worry more about me,” he asserted, as you laughed sarcastically.

“Please Parker, I couldn’t care less about you,” you snorted and he threw his head back with a sneaky grin.

He cleared his throat.

“Promise me we will live for each other,” he mocked you, pitching his voice higher. “I won’t lose you, either.”

“Come on, my voice doesn’t sound like that, my voice is even deeper than yours.”

“Is not!” He objected.

“You know, never mind, I want an alien to eat you up,” you joked, denying every feeling of fear that had you powering up.

[purple-spring]

Tomorrow - a SH fanfic

Author’s Note: This is my first SH fic and I have absolutely loved writing it. While I know that RPF is controversial for some, this was a piece I wanted to write to speculate on how SH began. This is obviously purely a work of fiction, and no offense is intended. Inspired by the following songs: “FOOLS” (Troye Sivan), “Television Romance” (Pale Waves) and “Can We Work It Out” (Gordi). A huuuuuuge thank you to @jandjsalmon and @theladylabyrinth for all their feedback and encouragement!

Summary: Lili and Cole are friends. Really good friends. So what happens when she wakes up next to him on a couch?

“What would it be like to let him in, to let herself love him? What would it be like to take a chance, to abandon her fears and leap freely into the unknown?”

Fic after the cut. Enjoy! And I love love love feedback, so leave me some love in my asks; hate will be blocked and deleted!

What came first was the warmth. A languid, pleasant warmth that reminded her of… of what? Of Christmas morning, she thought, with a sleepy smile. The gentle anticipation. The feeling of being home.

The second thing was her neck. It hurt. It rested awkwardly not on her own pillow but on the flat, firm surface of a couch that was definitely not her bed. She forced her eyes open and squinted against the bright California sun streaming in through the balcony.

Debby’s balcony. She was at Debby’s place. On Debby’s couch. Fuck. Guess I didn’t make it home last night.

She blinked slowly, attempting to rouse from her groggy haze. She’d overslept. Usually she was up by this time, but a few late nights in a row must have thrown her body off its normal cycle. But despite that, and despite the pain in her neck, she realized that she hadn’t actually slept this well in ages – a deep, dreamless slumber snuggled underneath a giant blanket. Maybe that’s why I feel warmer than usual.

Her neck really was killing her, though. She turned slightly to try and crack it, but was startled by something - someone - shifting behind her. An arm tightening protectively around her waist. A hand half-curled underneath her t-shirt, grazing her bare stomach. A sleepy groan mumbled into her hair. And, most tellingly, the faint scent of a familiar cologne cut by the slight undertone of cigarette smoke.

No.

She suddenly remembered.

Cole.

FUCK.

Her stomach dropped. Cole was spooning her. She had fallen asleep with Cole.

If she could have, she would’ve screamed. But she didn’t want to wake him and face the awkwardness of the situation, so she settled for gritting her teeth and shutting her eyes as tightly as she could, until she saw stars. A thousand thoughts streamed through her mind.

Is Debby awake? SHIT SHIT SHIT. HAS DEBBY ALREADY SEEN US?

I should go. Yup. Definitely need to go.

Okay, Lili. Focus. We can do this. But we need a plan.

Maybe I can sneak into the kitchen, make myself a coffee and pretend that nothing happened once he wakes up.

No. He’s not that gullible. He’ll know.

Okay, how about I pretend to fall out and then we can just laugh about it after? Then it’ll all just be a stupid joke, no harm done! Right? Haha.

Oh, god. Fuck. This is the worst. I’m just gonna go home. Screw it if he wakes up. I am not equipped for this.  

Then, in the midst of all the rambling, a traitorous thought.

Or I could stay.  

Her breath hitched at the audacity of the suggestion. She shut her eyes against it. No. No. We’ve been through this, Lili.

She felt her throat tightening, eyes threatening to brim over with tears. Images flashed through her head of the torture she had subjected herself to these past few months - letting herself fall for him and then battling, resisting, attempting to undo everything she felt for him.

Because this was all just so typical. Here, lying down next to each other, without any certainty of what they actually were… it was classic Cole and Lili. Affection without definition. Entanglement without clarity.

She sighed. A sigh that she felt all the way down to her bones.

How did we get here, Cole?

…

The immediate, short-term answer to the question was fairly simple.

Debby, Cole’s friend, former co-star and temporary roommate, had texted her the night before with an invitation to come over for dinner. “Cole’s still out of town so I’m getting the girls together for dinner. You down?” With nothing but ketchup and a bag of frozen peas sitting in her fridge, and with no other plans than hitting up her beloved Taco Bell again, she quickly replied with a grateful “yes”.

Lili had become fast friends with Debby since Cole introduced them to each other. Debby was lovely, down-to-earth and, in all honesty, not at all what she’d expected. If she’d been a psychologist or an anthropologist, Lili would have loved to have analysed both Debby and Cole as outlier case studies for the Disney child star phenomenon. They were both smart, worldly, kind and well-adjusted – totally opposite to the cliché of the bitter, washed-up, cynical ex-Disney kid (although she just knew that Cole would probably pipe up at this and say that he was bitter, washed-up and cynical. And then she’d have to roll her eyes and give him real-life examples of why he wasn’t any of those things. And in the middle of passionately enumerating ways in which he wasn’t bitter, he’d stare at her and say, “Okay, relax, Dr. Phil. I was kidding.”)

Lili hadn’t realized that being friends with Debby, well before anyone else on the cast had even met her, was somewhat significant, until she mentioned it in passing to Madelaine over lunch.

“Wait,” the redhead said in between sips of her smoothie. “So you’ve met Debby? Debby Ryan?”

“Um, yeah. Haven’t you?” While it was true that Cole and Lili had been cast first and had been acquainted since February, the rest of the Riverdale gang were becoming closer and were starting to mingle within each other’s circles.

“No. I mean, I’ve come across Debby at a few parties, but unless you count smiling at her awkwardly while re-applying mascara in the bathroom, then no, I haven’t actually met her.”

“Oh.”

“And I certainly haven’t had Cole introduce me to her.” Madelaine looked at her pointedly.

Huh. That was odd. But of course she’d met Debby. Cole was living with her while he was in LA. And Lili had assumed…

Well, what? That Cole brought all of his gal pals over to his place and got them to hang out regularly with one of his best friends? That this was just a normal occurrence for anyone within his circle?

Yeah, kind of?

She was startled to realize that this wasn’t true. Madelaine had a point - she was the only one. She’d even met Dylan, too. To the outside eye, that was… something. But he happened to be in town, she reasoned. And Cole and I had plans to hang out anyway, so…

“Lils, you there?”

Lili snapped back to attention and quickly changed the subject to cover up her thoughts. She brought up their plans to go bike-riding in Vancouver. In no time, Madelaine was distracted, chattering excitedly in between using her phone to find the best bike rides in the city. Lili contributed to the conversation whenever she had to, but her mind was somewhere else. The rest of that lunch – and every day since then, really – she couldn’t shake off that mild revelation that what she and Cole had wasn’t quite the same as what everyone else did.

…

How did we get here, Cole? Now, the long answer. This was more complicated.

What did she feel for him, anyway? ‘Like’ and ‘love’ were simplistic, overused terms. Of course she liked him. They were way beyond that. Did she love him? She wasn’t sure. This was why she rejected those terms to begin with – they were too vague, too general. They didn’t describe the way she felt whenever she was with him, or away from him.

If she could distil it to its essence, she’d say that she and Cole fit, in a way that calmed and exhilarated her in equal measure. It was easy being friends with him. That part came naturally to Lili. Like laughing at a really good punchline, or breathing in oxygen after being underwater for too long. They knew each other uncannily. They laughed at the same jokes and finished each other’s sentences. She told him once that he challenged her views on reincarnation because surely they’d met in a past life. Soon it became a running joke between them. He even created an entire fictional universe about their past lives as otters living along the Nile River (“That… is so random, Cole.” “Well you try studying archaeology for four years and not having Egypt in your subconscious. Shut up and let me have my otter dream.”)

But then there was also… him. She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t find him objectively attractive. It was disarming, to say the least, even though it lay underneath the rumpled clothes he insisted on wearing, which she didn’t mind. If anything, while his brother and his friends teased him by observing a strict roll call for his small roster of shirts (“It’s Tuesday, Cole, how come you’re wearing the Friday Orange?”), she found it endearing, and it drew her in and intrigued her. He was like a prince in exile, determined to downplay any part of him that referenced his darkly glittering childhood. But that face – the keen, blue stare, the mischievous mouth, the constellation of freckles – could not have been more at odds with the concealment. It was a face that was going to stand out no matter what.

So it was that Lili found herself veering between appreciating their easy friendship and then looking up and realizing that the goofball who was making her laugh was also the same man who could make her heart stop in its tracks.

And he wasn’t helping, either. Sure, there were times when she she felt like nothing more than a pal. Like when he’d throw fries at her head. Or FaceTime her at 3 in the morning to show her a cat he’d come across during a shoot (“Very nice, Cole. Now fuck off,” she had said while he cackled at her groggy face dotted with pimple cream. “IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS PLANNING ON SEEING ANYONE, my god, go away”).

But then, there were other times that made her wonder. Like that time when she mentioned that she’d damaged the original lens on her camera, and woke up one morning to a package on her table containing a newer, much better one, attached with a note simply scribbled “For future adventures -C.” And all the times – she couldn’t have just imagined them, there were too many – she’d catch him staring just a fraction longer, with a small smile playing on his lips.

Those were the times when she’d let her guard down, let herself imagine. What would it be like to let him in, to let herself love him? What would it be like to take a chance, to abandon her fears and leap freely into the unknown?

It didn’t matter, anyway. Because the more these feelings took root in her heart, the more she felt and fretted at the weight of the year ahead. With Riverdale getting the green light for a full season after a successful pilot, they were going to be filming full-time as co-workers. This was her big break; this was his return to the spotlight. There was a lot at stake for both of them, and there simply was no room for this foolishness. She couldn’t risk it. She was just going to have to shut it down and get over it somehow.

For herself. And for him, too.

…

For dinner, Debby had somehow managed to concoct a delicious compromise between her healthy eating habits and Lili’s more decidedly low-brow tastes (“Fish tacos!” Lili had exclaimed. “Deb, this is like if you and I got married and had taco babies”). The night was fun and light, and Lili found that she was enjoying herself more than she had all week.

That was until they heard the front door open and a large bag dropping onto the floor.

“Hey, I was gonna yell, ‘anyone home’, but I think the answer’s fairly obvious.”

Cole made his way into the dining room and they all burst into surprised elation.

Except Lili. She felt like throwing up. Well, fuck. She’d been studiously avoiding him – his texts, his calls, his social media – and now there was barely half a room between them. Right before he left, she had sworn to herself that she couldn’t do this anymore, this complicated dance of intense closeness and uncertain labels that only she seemed to be aware of. So she decided that she was going to use his absence productively, to take some space away from him. Out of sight, out of mind, she reasoned. And hopefully out of heart. The first few days were pure torture, but after managing to keep herself busy and out of the house, she was doing well.

Not anymore. Now, seeing his face, his shirt rumpled from travel, she was falling apart.

Debby got up and gave him a quick hug before looking for an extra plate. “Cole Mitchell. I thought you weren’t gonna be home until Friday?”

“Yeah, shoot wrapped up early. We got most of what we wanted on the first day, and one of the models who was scheduled for a later day managed to free up some time.” He looked around the room and spotted her. His face registered shock, and her heart ached as she watched him trying to contain it. “Hey, Lili.”

Fuck. He knew. Of course he knew she was avoiding him. She heard it in those two words, the measured casualness of his voice, the way he said her full name – Lili – unlike everyone else who shortened or lengthened it to Lils or Lilipad or Lilibeth. And fuck him because he just knew how to play it, how to say those two words so that she’d pay attention to what he was trying to say. Hey, you. Where’ve you been?

“Hey, Cole.”

The room tensed momentarily as everyone caught on to the odd coldness between the two. This was, after all, Cole and Lili. Cole, who knew exactly how she took her coffee. Lili, who’d freely walk into Cole’s bedroom to drag his blanket off his bed whenever she was cold.

Debby cut through the awkwardness. “Uh, Cole, you wanted dinner, right?”

“Yep.” After another significant look, Cole made his way into the kitchen. Lili wanted to sink into the floor. When he came back with his plate, he sat well away from her and started a conversation with someone else. She wanted to leave, but she knew that that was only going to attract attention after their little moment. So she resolved to stay and grit her teeth through it, figuring she’d make her escape once everyone left.

She really should’ve known. She should’ve predicted that Cole knew her too well, was far too ingenious to just let her go. They had already started putting everything away when he piped up. “I feel like watching a movie tonight, guys,” he said. “Anyone up for a Baz Luhrmann movie marathon? Strictly Ballroom? Romeo and Juliet?” He caught her eye. “Moulin Rouge?”

You little shit. She wanted to throttle him. Not only did he know it was her favourite film, he knew that Debby knew it, too. And there was no way she was going to get the opportunity to beg off the night without seeming rude.

Debby lit up. “Oh my god, yes. We haven’t done that in ages. Lil! Weren’t you saying you hadn’t seen that in months?”

Lili looked wearily at Cole. He looked right back at her, a shit-eating grin on his face. I win. She couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter. He did, too.

“Fine,” she said, settling into the couch. “But we’re skipping Strictly Ballroom and getting straight into some classic old-school DiCaprio.”

Cole settled right next to her. With his forelock falling carelessly across his face, a roguish look in his eyes, of course he had to be the very image of Leo himself. Calm down.

He smiled. Her heart stuttered. “Fine by me.”

…

Lili waited for Cole to snark her about ghosting him. He didn’t. If anything, he seemed determinedly normal, whispering random commentary throughout the movie that made her laugh. She wanted to be annoyed. After all, it had taken considerable effort to ignore him all week. But being with him again - talking to him, trading barbs and banter - was like crawling toward sunlight after languishing in the dark.

After Romeo and Juliet finished, Debby’s friends decided to call it a night. Lili got up and stretched. Cole smiled lazily up at her. “Hey, you,” he said. There was something strange about him.

“Hey, yourself,” Lili replied. “You’re in a funny mood.”

“Yeah? What mood am I in?”

“I don’t know, you’re just being weird.”

Cole smirked in reply and shrugged. “You’re staying for Moulin Rouge, right?”

Lili hesitated. She was starting to feel a little tired. “I… don’t know.”

“Oh, come oooonnn. I’m a little jetlagged and buzzed and could probably do with some company, to be honest.”

“You have Debby.”

“Yeah, but Debby’s boring.”

Debby poked her head in from the kitchen. “I heard that!”

“I meant for you to!” Cole quickly ducked as Debby threw a bag of chips at him, then turned to Lili. “See what I have to put up with? You have to stay. Please.”

“Just stay, Lil!” Debby called out. “I’ll whip up some fresh guac for the chips and bring out some chocolate as well.”

Lili sighed and turned to Cole. “Can you at least promise to drive me home if I get too sleepy?”

“I promise.”

What choice did she have? This was Moulin Rouge and Cole. “Alright, you big baby,” she said, laughing at his puppy dog eyes. “I’ll stay.”

…

Moulin Rouge was Lili’s favourite movie and an absolute assault on the sense, but it didn’t take long for her to feel drowsy. She took advantage of all the snacks Debby had laid out in the living room in an attempt to keep herself awake, but all the sugar was just causing her to crash. She needed to lie down.

“Cole?”

“Mmm?”

“I feel sleepy.”

Cole nodded and shifted down the couch to give her space to stretch out. She settled into her new position, tucking her feet under her so he could have some space.

But he gently resisted that, propping her feet on his lap. She would have protested, insisting that he didn’t have to, but soon he was tracing lazy circles on her ankle with his thumb, and she did not have the energy to fight how good it felt, or overthink whatever the hell it meant.

Soon Debby got up from her spot on the floor and announced that she was going to bed. She turned to Cole. “Can you please turn off the lights? And make sure Lils gets home.” He nodded. She and Lili bid each other a sleepy good night, and she retreated to her bedroom.

Cole and Lili stayed still on the couch as the movie kept playing. Lili had no idea what they were watching anymore - she was fighting her sleep, but more than that, she was fully aware that she and Cole were alone together for the first time in weeks. Which she was usually comfortable with. Tonight, however, something unspoken hung in the air between them.

Suddenly, he got up and walked off in the direction of his room. She was briefly startled, until he came back into the living room holding his dark blue plaid blanket, which he’d dragged off his bed. “Here,” he said, throwing it over to her. “I knew you were approximately thirty seconds from whining about freezing your ass off.”

She laughed as he sat back down on the couch. “Oh yeah? And I do this regularly now, do I?”

“Yep. You’ve also made me watch this musical a thousand times, AND” - he covered her mouth with his hand as she started to interrupt - “you’re going to correct me and say, ‘Cole, don’t be a peasant, it’s a jukebox musical, not a musical, and yes there’s a difference.’”

“There IS a difference. And now you know, so I’ve taught you well, young Padawan.” She pulled the blanket over her body and closed her eyes. “What else do I do?” she asked, yawning.

He looked at her for a moment, his mouth opening and closing, as if to measure what he was about to say next. “You go to Starbucks and always get a size too big, and make me drink the rest of whatever sugary confection you’ve ordered that day. Your favourite VSCO filter is C3, even though it’s obviously trash. Your favourite shirts are all white, despite the fact that you always spill something on yourself - case in point, the salsa on your top tonight.”

“Hey, how did you –”

“Also, you suck at driving my Jeep –”

“I can SO drive your Jeep.”

“–you suck at driving my Jeep, no matter how many times I’ve walked you through it.” He laughed, and his gaze softened. “You buy a new notebook every other week because you write prodigiously. You buy yourself flowers every Friday and never make a big deal out of it. And… you can sleep pretty much anywhere, but once your hand touches your cheek, I know that you’re off and definitely dreaming.”

She looked back at him and smiled, already half-asleep. “Nice work. Since when did you know so much about me, Mr. Sprouse?”

He only smiled in reply, obviously proud of himself. She closed her eyes as his hand settled on hers. I can fall asleep like this forever.

Sleep began to overtake her, but not before she felt a slight puff of air against her leg as Cole suddenly lifted the blanket. He slipped his lithe, sinewy frame behind her, his strong arms wrapping themselves around her waist. She froze. She could feel the length of his body against hers and it was slowly obliterating every reasonable thought in her system.

“Cole?”

“Mmm?”

“Are we doing this?”

He nuzzled his face into her hair, his breath warm against her neck. She felt his mouth turn up into a grin. “Sure. Fuck it. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Every ounce of logic in her body screamed against it. If she was smart, she’d get up and drive herself home. Or demand that they actually talk about this.

But as his hand found the skin under her shirt and settled on her waist, she decided she was with Cole on this one; fuck it.

We’ll figure it out tomorrow.

…

And now tomorrow was today.

Lili lay still on the couch, wanting to smack herself for being so reckless. For letting Cole get to her so easily. He had a knack for wearing down her defenses, but she’d had enough.

She felt him stir against her. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice low in her ear. “Did you sleep okay?”

She had to keep a clear head. She had to. “I slept… fine,” she replied, keeping her tone flat and even.

“Good.” Cole stretched his arms above him. She silently berated herself for missing the warmth of his hands on her bare skin. “What do you want to do today?”

I want to stay here with you.

I want to run away from you.

Lili sighed, exasperated. She sat up and faced him. “Seriously? ‘What do I want to do today’? My god. I don’t know, Cole. Maybe figure out what the hell we’re doing here?”

Cole’s eyes flew open in confusion. He sat up to face her. “What?”

“You heard me. Don’t pretend this is normal for us. I just…” She paused and pinched the bridge of her nose to stop herself from tearing up. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Cole looked at her steadily. “Do what, Lili?”

She waved her hand frantically between them. “THIS! You, and me, and this indefinable whatever that we’ve been carrying on for months now.”

“‘Indefinable?’ What’s there to define?!”

“Everything!” Lili’s voice caught at that, and her eyes welled up. “The hanging out. The late night phone calls. The constant texts. The random presents. And on top of that, last night and this morning and the fucking spooning. All of that, Cole!”

His eyes stayed on her, his silence willing her to go on.

“I just… I need to know because I need to get away from it. It’s so fucking complicated, Cole. We can’t keep doing this, not when we’re about to work together, and see each other everyday, and god, I like you too much to screw this up. I have no idea where you are, or how you feel about me – “

“Lili.” Cole grabbed her wrists and pulled her close. “Are you… seriously… that ignorant?”

She went still. His eyes searched her, challenging her to respond. She felt naked under his gaze. She knew that every fibre in her being was about to give in to everything she had fought for so long. But could she really allow herself to? She shut her eyes against his stare, attempting to make a last-ditch effort at resistance.

But the tide had turned, and he was already well ahead of her. Because he had already moved in on her, his lips finding her cheek, grazing her cheekbone lightly and leaving every inch undone in their wake. The damp, fervent heat of his breath made her tremble. Slowly, one of his hands released her wrists and moved up to the collar on her shirt, fisting the thin cotton, pulling her closer to him. His lips worked their way down to her sharp jawline, planting a trail of small kisses that ended at the corner of her mouth. He pulled away and looked at her, and the hunger in his eyes took her breath away.

Then he crashed on her like lightning, his mouth feverish-hot and full of need. One hand slid into her hair, making a snarled mess, the other pulling at her waist, bringing her deeper into their kiss. She tasted smoke, felt thunder churning inside of her. She couldn’t help herself - she lifted her fingers to touch his lips as he brazenly explored hers. Just to check. Just to make sure this was real.

And in brief moments of lucidness, between being kissed into oblivion, she knew. That this would be her undoing. That this was creating a need in her that she never knew existed. That if things did happen later on between her and Cole, and if things went bad, that she would do everything in her power to be kissed like this again.

At last he broke away. As she caught her breath, his thumb lingered on her mouth. She opened her eyes and met his, and she couldn’t help it - she laughed. He made a face at her.

“You’re laughing?”

“No. I mean, yes. Not at this. With this, if that makes sense.” Her mind was still reeling, and she could barely explain herself. Later that night, she would recognize that it was pure joy that had spilled out of her; that it reminded her of running downhill, of riding a rollercoaster, of splashing madly into a sun-dappled ocean.

He took her hands and wrapped his fingers around them. “All this time… you never knew?”

“You never said anything, Cole.”

“Lili, you know that I did. Maybe not with words, but I did. I thought you’d have that figured out. I mean… I don’t just introduce Dylan to anyone, you know. He’s usually locked away in a basement. It takes a lot of effort getting him out.”

Lili laughed. And was relieved to realize that this still happened - that they could still joke and banter like they used to.

“But… this past week made me figure that maybe you weren’t getting that.”

“You noticed I was ignoring you?”

“Noticed? You were killing me, Lili.”

She felt guilty. Tentatively, she leaned forward and kissed him as a way of apology. It caught him by surprise, and he lingered over the kiss longer than she had meant for it to last, tugging at her bottom lip before letting go. Over the next few days, she would lose count of how many kisses they’d trade, but in that moment she took note that this was only their second kiss, and already it felt natural to her. “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. And, you know, feel free to apologise again, and soon.” He grinned at her.

“So… can I ask? Why didn’t you just come out and tell me all this before it got tense and weird and complicated?

“Well… one, because I thought you knew. I mean, shit, are you even aware that my nickname around this house is Captain Obvious? It’s actually embarrassing.” Lili smiled at that. “And two, because I really was in no rush to define what we were. I mean, why would I need to name it when it was already so fucking good, you know? I didn’t want to jinx it. I’m sorry, that sounds immature, right?”

“No,” Lili conceded. “But I guess for me it would’ve put some parameters on what I was supposed to feel, what I was supposed to do. Because you came out of nowhere, Cole. Like… a cat. A cat getting hit by a car.”

He burst out laughing. “That is the worst comparison. You suck at this.”

“I’m sorry! But it’s true.” She laughed, and looked down at her hands, still enclosed in his. “So… what now?”

“Now?” He shrugged. “I don’t know, you wanna go out for breakfast?”

“Cole.” She levelled a stare at him. “I’m serious.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, Lili. What are you really asking here? Are you really asking about now, or tomorrow?”

“Can I ask about both?”

“Sure. Here’s my answer to now. I’m honestly crazy about you.” With that, he pulled her in until she was sitting on his lap, and buried his face into her neck, his mouth forming words on her skin. “Every time I’m with you, I can’t decide whether I feel brave, or reckless, or vulnerable, or exposed. More likely all of them, all at the same time.”

She smiled, and turned her towards him so that their foreheads were touching. “And tomorrow?”

“If you’re asking me what the next few months will look like, I… really don’t know.” She nodded and pulled back, a little deflated. It was a fair and honest answer, but it left her feeling uncertain. He noticed her disappointment, and planted a kiss on her bared shoulder. “But tomorrow? You and I have that. I can promise you that.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at him, traced his dimple lightly with her finger. Tomorrow. Maybe she could live with that for now. Maybe in the face of everything that was about to happen to them - the avalanche of Riverdale and everything that came with it - that small promise was enough.

She just needed to know one more thing. “Cole? Can you promise me something else?”

“Shoot.”

“Can you promise me…” her voice trailed off, and suddenly she felt shy. “Can you promise me that you’ll kiss me again? Tomorrow?”

He arched an eyebrow in surprise, and smirked at her. “Tell you what,” he said. “How about we bring tomorrow forward“ - he leaned in to plant kisses on her chin, her cheeks, her neck - “and figure it out as we go along?”

But as he was teasing her, she was already lost, obliterated - this time, it was her pulling him in. And as he returned her kiss with equal passion, she knew with absolute certainty that this was only the beginning. That they’d be here again many times over. That the future may be unsure, but at least, for now, what they had was real and raw and breathtaking.

Tomorrow was already beckoning.

[starryfictionalgirl]

Warriors (Peter Parker x Reader) Chapter 1: Unexpected Visitor

Masterlist

Relationships: Peter Parker x fem!hero!reader

Warnings: Cursing and some very light smut. Like so light it’s basically not even smut more of a mention honestly.

Summary: Essentially a Wonder Woman AU but with some differences. You grew up in Asgard. You’ve lived there your whole life. But then your life changes when Peter Parker stumbles into Asgard, and right into you. There have been recent attacks by aliens on Earth. And Thor and Tony have been working together to try and stop them. And Peter has been dying to help but Tony and Thor both think it’s too dangerous for him. So when he accidentally stumbles into Asgard he’s going to need your help to get out without Tony or Thor noticing. You agree to help him. On one condition...He takes you to Earth with him to fight off the invading aliens. 

“Thor look out!” Tony calls out and points at a giant troll like creature coming towards him. 

Thor easily knocks it away with his hammer and laughs at Tony. 

“I knew it was coming Tony. If anything that troll should have been looking out for me!” He bellows and takes down a few more aliens that were terrorizing New York City. 

“Yeah I know. Just be careful. I don’t want to worry about anyone getting hu-” Tony says then stops when he sees an alien get hit by a web and pinned to the ground. “Shit.” 

He turns and sees Spider-Man swing into the street. Webbing down aliens that were threatening to attack citizens. Tony grumbled to himself and called Peter using FRIDAY. Peter picks up using Karen.

“Oh hey Mr. Stark! What do you think? I’m doing good right?” Peter asks.  

“What are you doing here Parker!” Tony yells at him. “These things are extremely dangerous! You shouldn’t be fighting them!” 

“Yeah well ever since I took down those weapons sellers I’ve sort of got a reputation to hold up and-” Peter explains and Tony cuts him off. 

“I don’t care about any of that! These things are giving me and Thor a run for our money! The last thing we need is to worry about- LOOK OUT!” Tony yells at him and Peter immediately swings away from a giant alien that slammed his fist down where he was perched on a building a second ago. 

“Thanks for the heads up Mr. Stark! I’ll watch out for you too-” Peter starts but Tony cuts him off. 

“No you will not! You will go home right now or else I’ll give Happy instructions to ground you from crime fighting for a month.” Tony says. 

“What!?” Peter exclaims. “You can’t do that!” 

“Actually I can. I have an app built into that suit where I can shut it down for as long as I want.” Tony says. 

“You do not!” Peter scoffs. 

“Want to test me Spider-boy?” Tony argues. 

Peter sighed. 

“No. I’ll go home...” He says dejectedly and the call with Tony ends. “Right after I finish off this giant loser!” He declares and swings over to follow an alien into an alley and starts to fight it. 

Meanwhile outside Tony and Thor fought off the last of the aliens. 

“Alright. That’s all of ‘em.” Tony says. 

“We should head back to Asgard immediately. We should discuss what has been happening here with my father. Perhaps he could give us some council in this matter.” Thor suggests.

“Okay.” Tony says. “Any excuse to get my hands on some Asgardian booze.” He says and smiles. 

Thor rolls his eyes and takes a small device out.

“What’s that?” Tony asks. 

“Oh it’s a teleportation device that allows me to go from here to Asgard without using the bifrost.” He explains. “It’ll take us directly to the throne room.” 

As he gets it set up, Peter saunters out of the alley, leaving a webbed up alien behind, and then he sees Tony and Thor and freezes behind them, hoping he’s not noticed. Then suddenly he feels like he’s being sucked into a portal, and the next thing he knows, he’s extremely dizzy and in a place that doesn’t look anything like Queens. But Tony and Thor are still in front of him so he runs over to the side of the room and hides behind a pillar so they can’t see him. 

“Shit! Karen where am I?” He asks his AI. 

“Asgard.” She says. 

“Asgard!” Peter exclaims silently so Thor and Tony didn’t hear him. “As in the place where Thor lives!? That’s definitely not Earth?” 

“Yes.” She answers. 

“Fuck! How do I get out of here? I can’t let them know I came here I’ll be grounded!” Peter freaks out. He looks around then notices a hallway. “I’ll have to look around here for another way back home.” 

He runs down the hallway and embarks on a journey throughout the palace. He was careful not to let anyone see him, because he didn’t want Thor or Tony to be alerted of his presence. 

“I’ve got to find a place I can hide for awhile.” He decides. 

Then he notices a secret door in the wall.

“Perfect.” He says and goes over to it. 

He pushes it open and sneaks inside. It shut behind him. He climbed onto the wall then made his way onto the ceiling and came into a big room. He looked around the room and noticed there was a big bed, some bookshelves, a fireplace, pillows and an outdoor garden/what appeared to be a training area. 

“Wow.” Peter says and slowly hops down from the wall. “I picked a great place to hide out.” 

And then everything went black as he got hit in the back of the head with a shield by you. 

He groaned and then blinked a few times as he regained consciousness. He took a moment to take in his surroundings and then realized his mask had been taken off and he was laying down on some pillows. Once his vision focused he sat up slowly and noticed you sitting with your back turned to him. You wore what appeared to be some sort of chest plate with a skirt and sandals. And you were fiddling with one of his web shooters. 

“Hey give that back you’ll mess up the-” He starts and reaches forward to get the web shooter from you then gasps when you turn and he sees your face. “C-cal-libration.” He finishes in a high pitched voice. 

His mind went blank. He swore he had to be dreaming. There was no way someone as pretty as you could exist on Earth. But then he remembered he wasn't on Earth. 

“Oh you’re awake!” You say and smile at him. “I’m sorry I had to knock you out. I just got a bit paranoid that someone had broken in trying to hurt me. But when I took off your mask and saw that you were around my age and that you were so easily taken down by the lightest shield I have I knew you weren’t any sort of threat to me. So...I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t too mad.”

Peter didn't answer. He just continued to stare at you with a look of awe and wonder on his face. You tilted your head, confused by him. 

“Um are you alright?” You ask him and wave in front of his face. 

“Heh heh pretty....” He says dreamily. Then he snaps out of it when he realizes how creepy that sounded. “I mean I’m fine!” He says. “I barely even felt it.” He says and touches the back of his head and winces. 

“Well that’s good!” You say and smile at him. “What is this thing? Did it enable you to stick to my ceiling?” 

“No. Actually that’s just part of my powers.” He says proudly, wanting to impress you. 

“Powers?” You ask, intrigued. “Are you a warrior?” 

“Yes. From Earth.” He says. 

“Earth? You’re from Midgard?” You ask him. “The place that Thor goes to all the time?” 

“Yeah. That’s the one.” Peter says. “I actually fought at his side today in a battle against some aliens that had the audacity to invade my city. Now I totally could have handled them all on my own.” Peter assures you. “But Thor really wanted to help out and who would I be to turn such a nice guy down?” 

“That’s so sweet of you.” You tell Peter, totally buying his story. “But what brings you to Asgard? Don’t your people need your protection?” 

“Well yeah they do, but there’s other warriors on Earth that can protect them too, it’s cool if I leave them for a little bit. And besides, I was curious about this place. I’ve heard a lot about it from Thor.” He says and looks around your room. “This place is paradise...” 

“Yeah...I suppose so.” You say in a somewhat disheartened tone. 

“Sounds like you don’t really like it here.” Peter notices. 

“No I do! I love it here it’s amazing but...I’ve never been anywhere else...I’ve been stuck here my whole life. Sometimes I wish I could go to another place...And fight evil and be a hero like everyone else here in Asgard. But even though I’ve been training my whole life, I fear I may never get the chance.” 

“Aw don’t think like that.” Peter says. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to prove yourself soon. I did.” You smiled at him. 

“Thank you. That’s encouraging to hear. So what are these powers that allow you to stick to the walls and ceiling?” You ask him. 

“Well about a year ago I got bit by a radioactive spider. So now I have the same powers as a spider.” He explains and you laugh. He looks confused. 

“No wonder I was able to knock you out so easily! Your powers come from a weak little bug!” You tell him and hold your stomach from how hard you were laughing. 

“Hey! It is not a weak bug!” Peter argues. “I can shoot webs! I have super strength! I have spider senses that allow me to sense danger-” 

“Then how come you didn’t sense me coming?” You ask him. 

“Well...” He thinks for a minute. 

Then his train of thought is interrupted when he feels you touch his bicep. A faint blush forms on his cheeks as he watches you run your fingers along his arm. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks you. 

“I’ve never seen this sort of material before...” You say and get closer to him. 

His breath hitches when you place both of your hands on his chest. 

“May I touch it some more?” You ask. 

He nods eagerly and his breathing gets heavier as you run your hands along his torso, feeling the thin material of his suit. 

“It’s so smooth and silky.” You say in awe and Peter nods. 

He’s not even really listening to what you’re saying. He’s just too amazed by the fact that a girl is touching him in such a sensual way. And you, being the innocent sheltered girl you were, had no idea just how much of an affect you had on him. But you were about to rock his world when-

“What’s this odd protrusion here?” You ask when your hands reach the end of his torso and gently grasp the obstruction. 

Peter let out a loud gasp when he realized just how low on his torso you had gotten and now the symbol of how much you were affecting him was what you were now gently cradling in your hands.

“Why is it so stiff?” You ask and gently palm it once, making Peter choke out a moan. “And this wasn’t here a few moments ago-” Peter knocked your hands away quickly and covered his crotch with a pillow. 

His face was beet red and you seemed really confused. 

“H-have you ever met a guy before?” He asks in a high pitched voice. 

“A guy? As in a male?” You ask. 

“Yeah.” Peter says. 

“No actually. I’ve heard of men. But all of my tutors are female and Lady Sif is the one who trains me for battle so I have not met any men my entire life.” You explain. “Are you a man?” 

“Huh? Yes! Yes I am definitely a man.” Peter says quickly. “Uh...Why didn’t you already know that?” 

“Well men have been described to me as very tall and bearded, with deep gruff voices and they’re always confident. But you seem very scared, small, and your voice is rather high.” You tell him and he groans and his face reddens even more. 

“That’s just because I’m a teenager.” He says. 

“Oh! You’re in the transition between childhood and adulthood like me?” You ask him and he nods. 

“How old are you?” He asks. 

“A few hundred years. But in Midgardian terms I am fifteen.” You tell him. 

“Me too.” Peter says and smiles. 

You smile too, happy to have found someone around your age. 

“So what was that thing that grew under your suit?” You ask and reach towards the pillow. Peter covers it more. 

“N-Nothing.” Peter says quickly. “It was just...uh...a battery. That helps power my suit’s capabilities.” He lies. 

“Oh that explains why it was so hard and stiff. And that would also explain the large size.” You say and Peter bites his lip. “But it seems like this battery fell out. It’s bulging out of your suit.” You say. 

“That just means it needs to be charged.” Peter makes up. 

“Oh. How does one charge it?” You ask. “Is there anything I can do to help energize it?” You reach for it again. 

“Well uh...” Peter suggests and smirks then shakes his head, thinking better than to let his teenage hormones trick you into helping him get off. “No. It’s fine I can take care of it myself but thanks for the offer.” He says and blushes a bit. 

“Oh. Very well then.” You say. “Would you like me to get you some food?” 

“Yeah. That would be nice, thanks.” Peter says and you get up and go to the garden to get food. 

“A Goddess was touching my penis!” He silently exclaims to himself. “And she thinks it’s big!” 

You two spend the rest of the night talking.You told him how you had been training your whole life to become a great warrior to defend Asgard and you asked him a lot of questions about Earth, and he answered them all, loving how excited you looked each time he gave an answer. He told you about his battle with the Vulture and how he stopped the weapons dealers. 

“You truly are a hero.” You tell him. “I hope that someday I’ll be able to fight to defend those who cannot fight for themselves too.” 

“I’m sure you will someday.” He tells you. “I still have a long way to go honestly. There are these aliens that keep invading Earth. Today they attacked my city, New York. And from what Tony and Thor say, it sounds like it won’t stop there. And that won’t be the last attack.” 

“Well then you should get back to Midgard as soon as possible.” You tell him. “Your people need you!” 

“Yeah...uh...well...funny thing about that.” Peter says and blushes. “I uh...Don’t really know how to get back...” 

“But Thor brought you here?” You ask him. “Just go to him and he’ll bring you back.”

“Well...you see...He didn’t exactly bring me here.” Peter says. “I kind of got stuck in his portal and came here when I wasn’t supposed to. And if anyone finds out I’m here, I might not be allowed to fight again.” He says. 

“Don’t worry!” You tell him. “I know of another way to get you back to Midgard. But...It’ll require you to do something for me.” You say and smirk. 

“Okay. What’s the catch?” Peter asks. 

“You have to take me to Midgard with you!” You tell him and grab his hands. His eyes went wide. 

“Y-you want me to what?” He asks. 

“Take me home with you! These aliens are clearly giving your Midgardian heroes and even Thor a hard time. I have been training for so long now...I’m sure I’m more than capable of helping you defeat these evil creatures that are threatening your people.” You explain. “This will be my chance to prove myself and fulfill the purpose of my training! Perhaps it was fate that you found me here. You’re the one who’s going to allow me to save the good innocent people of this universe!” 

“Yeah....” Peter says. “Sure. I’ll bring you home with me. I’m sure we could use the extra help-” 

“Thank you so much!” You exclaim and hug him tight. 

“You crawling into my room so I could knock you out with my shield was the best thing that’s ever happened to me!” You exclaim and Peter nods. 

“Uh huh. Totally.” He says dreamily and smiles. 

You get up and run over towards a closet, leaving Peter shocked and flustered, amazed by how someone so amazing like you was so impressed with a geek like him. 

“Finally. It’s time.” You say and step out of your training gear and take your armor off of it’s stand. 

It was a silver chest plate with a red armored skirt and red boots that went all the way up to your knees to match. You took your sword off of it’s stand and grabbed your heaviest shield and placed it on your back. When you appeared before Peter again, he was even more awestruck by you. 

“Let’s go save Midgard.” You tell him and he smiles and nods eagerly. 

You both carefully snuck through the hallways, careful not to be in the sight of any guards or servants walking through the halls at night. At one point Peter let you climb on his back and he crawled up on the ceiling so you could avoid being seen by some guards who were in charge of guarding the portal entrance.  He easily slipped over them since the ceiling was high and then made his way down the wall and into the open archway without any problem. Once you were far enough away he let you down and the two of you jogged down the hallway until you reached a large room. 

“We’re here.” You tell Peter. “This portal is kept very secret, only to be used in times of emergency. But luckily for you, I overheard two of my tutors talking about it when they thought I was asleep.” 

You placed a crystal from a bowl in the corner into a disc in the center and it glowed blue and soon a portal opened. 

“All you have to do is think of where you want to go.” You tell Peter and take his hand, making him blush. And your cheeks tinted a bit pink as well. “And then this portal will take you there.” 

“Okay then.” Peter says and smiles at you. “Get ready to finally say goodbye to Asgard, and hello to Queens New York!” He says and you smile as the two of you jump into the portal and it closes shortly after. 

A/N: So what do you guys think of this new series!? Is it good? Are you eager for a part two? I do plan on writing one but I’d really like some feedback to see how everyone liked part one first. So please comment or send me messages, anything! And part two will come soon!