#man i knew there was probably going to be a fellow card and yet i still did a bad job of saving my keys

[egophiliac]

(looks at upcoming card releases)

I'm in danger :)

[pirateprincessblog]

Killer Eyes

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: when a lowly prisoner's eyes meet the ones of a kind young woman, his heart fills with a will to live again

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x fem!reader, ft jeong yunho (not a love interest)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.4k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, prisoner!mingi, prisondoctor!reader, prison theme

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, body worshipping, praising, size kink, possessive kink, marking, v-card loss, fingering, squirting, creampie

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: self h*rming, attempted s*icide, bullying, violence, swearing, r*pe mentions, unprotected sex

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.

check out sequel HERE

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.

song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.

mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.

he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.

"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.

nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.

loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.

"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"

at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.

the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.

"stand up."

the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.

"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.

he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.

"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.

he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.

"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.

the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.

"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.

"excuse me, what is going on here?"

a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.

"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."

"that man needs help!"

"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."

"help"

his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.

"i'm calling help, mr barnes."

"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."

mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.

you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.

you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?

"i want a patient change."

"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.

"he's a human before everything, sir."

the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.

"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"

"i'm just a doctor–"

"–s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."

"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.

"then act like it."

he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.

"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.

at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.

"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"

you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.

"understood?!"

"yes, yes–"

your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.

"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."

"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."

"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."

"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."

"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.

"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.

you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.

"dismissed."

days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.

a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.

what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.

you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.

your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.

your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.

PRISONER INFO

name: mingi song

record id: ##############

nationality: korean 

gender: male

citizen: yes

eye colour: brown

hair colour: brown

dob: 09081999

age: 24

height: 183 cm

weight: 75 kg

ARREST & SENTENCING INFO

date: 25122022

charge: kidnapping, assault, voluntary manslaughter, domestic violence

summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.

you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.

the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.

"jeong office."

"i'll need you to cover for me today."

"doctor?"

"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."

it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.

"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."

"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."

"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.

you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.

you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.

"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.

they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.

"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."

"no, sit on mine!"

"i'd rather her sit between my legs."

"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"

you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.

you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.

"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.

"what is it, elijah?"

the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.

"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."

and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.

"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.

he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.

"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."

he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.

"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.

you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.

"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"

you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.

"imagine how it hurts me."

you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.

"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"

"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."

"the source of my pain, doctor. please."

your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.

"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"

"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."

you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.

he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.

"mr song?"

"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."

he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.

"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."

"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.

at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.

"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"

"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."

"mingi," he exhales.

"i'm not supposed to-"

"please."

you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?

"okay, mingi."

his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.

"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.

"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"

"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."

he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.

"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"

"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."

your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.

"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.

he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.

"mingi, you will have to let me go."

"just a bit more, please."

"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."

the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.

"lift your shirt up for me, please?"

he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.

you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.

you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.

"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"

"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.

he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.

"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.

he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.

"you're pretty." he blurts out.

"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.

"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.

"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.

"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."

you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.

"oh, god. what is this?"

"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.

"a belt?!"

"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."

"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.

you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.

"and what about this? does this hurt-?"

"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.

your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.

"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."

"x-ray? what could it be?"

"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."

he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.

"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.

"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."

your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.

"are you eating properly?"

he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.

"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."

"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.

he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.

"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.

"nothing."

"you can tell me." you push.

the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.

"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.

"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.

his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.

"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."

you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.

"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.

a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.

the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.

"good morning, mingi."

he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.

"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.

"good morn–"

slap. 

mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.

"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"

the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.

"did I make myself clear?!"

"yes, yes! perfectly clear."

mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.

"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.

his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.

"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."

you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.

a good boy.

he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.

"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"

he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.

he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.

"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."

but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.

you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.

in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.

he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.

he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.

your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.

his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.

he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.

"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.

"shut the hell up."

the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.

"that lip cut looks new." you comment.

"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.

"cole?"

"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.

"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"

"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.

"okay."

mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.

"here's your medication."

you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.

"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.

"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.

"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.

the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.

"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.

"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.

"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.

"canteen?"

"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."

and with another smile, you are gone.

canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.

the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.

"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."

"okay," he finally agrees.

he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.

with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?

"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.

the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.

he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.

"well, well. lookie here."

three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.

"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.

"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.

"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.

"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.

they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?

"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.

"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"

"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"

"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.

"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."

the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.

jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.

"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"

"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."

"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."

"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."

"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."

mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.

"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"

"i'd rather her give me a head."

"i heard she's a virgin."

"aw, i get to be her first and last!"

mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.

one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat. 

"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.

mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.

"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.

"what the fuck?!"

"oh my god!"

"who let him in here?"

"run!"

"get dr rachel!"

his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.

he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is  slowly turning red.

"safe..." he whispers.

jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.

"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.

"safe from what, mingi?"

"i'll keep you safe."

his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.

"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"

dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.

"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."

"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.

"mr jeong?" she searches for support.

but he remains silent.

"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"

"shut up."

"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."

"shut up."

"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."

"shut up."

"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.

"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.

"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"

your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.

you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.

"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."

and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.

"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.

days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.

you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?

"doctor?"

you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.

"how is he?" you ask before thinking.

elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.

"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."

"how are his injuries? anything new?"

"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."

you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.

"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.

"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"

"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."

"i need to see him."

"no."

"make it happen, please. please, elijah."

"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."

you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."

elijah exhales. "fine."

at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.

hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.

you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.

"mingi," you call in a whisper.

his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.

"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.

"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."

"well, i'm not."

you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.

"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"

when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.

"i'm sorry," you choke out.

you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.

"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."

his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.

"can i? please?"

"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.

"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."

"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."

"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."

a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.

"barnes! care for a drink?"

"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."

"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."

"you paying?"

"sure am."

"then what the fuck we waiting for?"

the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.

"my savior,"  he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.

"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"

mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.

sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."

"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.

his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.

"so it's true."

"what is?"

"you're a virgin."

"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"

"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."

oh. oh.

"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."

"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."

the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.

"don't be a brat. i came to see you."

"and you did. i'm fine. now go."

"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"

"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."

"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."

he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.

mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.

"i can't."

"why not?"

"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."

"maybe i want to be hurt."

"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."

your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.

"i'd break you."

you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.

"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.

"and if you regret it?"

"i'll get over it."

with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.

"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.

"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."

"touch me more. i need more."

the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.

he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.

"should i take it off?"

"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."

"but won't it be difficult?"

"let me do the worrying. you just relax."

with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.

"stay still for me, princess."

a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.

"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."

"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"

"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal. 

and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.

he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.

"does it hurt, doctor?"

"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.

"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."

his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.

"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.

"why?"

"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.

"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."

his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.

"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."

your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.

"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.

tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.

"forgive me."

"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.

"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."

his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.

"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."

you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.

"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."

then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.

"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."

"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.

"can i stuff you full of my cum?"

"you can, please."

"are you on any pills?"

"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."

mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.

"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."

"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."

"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."

"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."

"i want you all to myself."

he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.

"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."

"your cunt was shaped for me."

"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."

"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."

"and nobody will touch me, except you."

"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."

he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.

"cream all over my cock, princess. please."

he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.

"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."

you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.

"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."

your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.

jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.

my saviour, the young prisoner said.

yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.

[hannieehaee]

NEEDLE IN THE HAY

18+ / mdi

summary: after swearing off dating due to a messy breakup, wonwoo finds himself being forced out of the house by mingyu, joining the 97 squad as an honorary member. what wonwoo didn't realize, however, was that he'd end up swallowing his words after meeting the newest addition to the friend group.

content: idol!wonwoo x idol!reader, pining, friends to lovers, wonwoo's pov, reader is a 97 liner, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, angst (with a happy ending), some self-deprecating thoughts from wonu </3

wc: 8.5k

a/n: can u guys tell i love idol aus or what .. anyways, this time i used proper capitalization since this is long as fuck! hope u enjoy even if its a bit of a mess <3

masterlist kofi/patreon

support me through a one-time tip! <3

Wonwoo was going through a slump.

As commonly known by his fans (and probably non fans too, by now), Wonwoo had a girlfriend prior to debuting. He's not entirely sure how the news came about to the public (something about a trainee leaking information ..?), but in reality that didn't really matter. What mattered now was that he now had to relive his messy breakup over and over again as people made it a bit of a 'meme' among the fandom. It wasn't like it made it to the news or anything, but even the reminder was enough to bring back the bad memories surrounding it. All the low self-esteem and doubtfulness that was attached to it. The breakup might've been distant by now, but the news breaking out were fresh, causing Wonwoo's wounds to reopen.

Now, Wonwoo didn't blame carats for this. Under any other circumstance he would've also found it comedic, but after it being a few years since the breakup and not managing to find a long-term relationship ever since, Wonwoo found himself in a slump once more, just like he felt when he was freshly broken up.

She, who shall not be named, was one of his closest friends in grade school. She hung around when he was nothing more than a lanky loser (not his words, but that of a few rowdy kids at school). She'd seen him and respected him before the world even knew his name. And then she'd become more than a friend.

As Wonwoo first made the decision to join Pledis, he was entirely unsure of himself. He wasn't untalented by absolutely any means, that much even he knew. He was growing to be a handsome young man, and was discovering new skills every day. But he didn't feel like he stood out enough to make it all the way to debut. His girlfriend, however, stood by him and gave him the strength to continue, which he did in hopes of making not only his family proud, but what he believed to be the love of his life proud too. Okay, maybe that was a bit too much, but he was a teenager, who could blame him for thinking himself in love?

Soon after came his debut. Things were going great. The sole fact that he had made it to debut with 12 of his friends and fellow trainees had him over the moon. He had fans now; supporters who thought the world of him. He had a happy family waiting for him at home, and a girl he was infatuated with that he could keep all to himself, away from the public eye. Everything was perfect. Until it wasnt.

It was as predictable as you'd imagine. The fame, the limelights, the constantly-changing schedules. It was all too much for someone who could do no more than watch from the sidelines. The issues began a few years into his debut. He felt her begin to pull away. To be fair, he might've unconsciously pulled away first, but his life was getting too hectic for things to be the same as before. Maybe it was his fault for believing that she would evolve along with his life, willing to follow him as he continued his journey with his 12 friends.

If that had been the end, maybe it would've been okay. But the breakup had not happened just yet. We could've stayed friends if we had only ended it there, he'd thought many times. Unfortunately for Wonwoo, a clean break just was not in his cards. He found out about it through his younger brother. The betrayal. The disrespect. The heartbreak. He would've rathered she'd broken his heart face to face, you know? Maybe that way it wouldn't have hurt years into the future as it continued to do.

She had found someone else. It was some guy she met in college (something Wonwoo thought he'd do someday, but had chosen the life of an artist instead). There was nothing wrong with the guy, it just wasn't Wonwoo. He thought that maybe if she'd told him, he would've understood, would've been sad, but would've respected her decision, but no, she made her choice. Had she forgotten to break up with him beforehand? Was he just an afterthought? These were the questions that plagued Wonwoo's mind years after the fact. He had decided to confront her with what his brother had seen. Them together at a cafe, too close for comfort. What was saddest was her lack of denial. She didn't even fight back; fight for him. She had turned it around into his fault. As if he'd forced her hand. What broke Wonwoo more than the betrayal was the look of disdain in her eyes. It made him feel like maybe he was the villain. That maybe even if he tried, he just couldn't be loved in that way.

That's how he found himself in this situation. Two years past the five year long relationship, coming across another post detailing a theory of whether or not Wonwoo was still with his 'pre-debut girlfriend', as people liked to call her. He believed himself to be over the girl, but couldn't find himself to admit whether or not he was over the hurt. Only time would tell, he guessed.

"Come on, hyung. You can't stay here every time you have one of your episodes. It's been years, you have to move on!"

Mingyu was getting ready for another outing with his famous 97 squad; this time the attendees being Eunwoo, Jungkook, and Y/N. He was trying, yet again, to convince his elder of joining him and his friends. Maybe he wasn't a 97-liner, but he was well-liked by all the members of the group, and he figured the outing would do his friend some good, seeing as he was once again down in the dumps over his old girlfriend.

"I told you it's not that, Mingyu," responded Wonwoo, barely facing away from his computer, once again gaming during his very limited free time.

"Okay, if you're truly not sad about that anymore, then come out with us! It's been a while since you've even left the apartment, and you've never actually accepted any of my invites out! If you don't like it, we'll leave. It's all people you've already met anyways," reasoned, a very stubborn Mingyu.

"I don't actually know any of them, Gyu. Saying hello whenever they come visit you doesn't really count as knowing a person."

"Okay! Fine! What do you want? What do I have to give to get my best friend to hang out with me? Money? You're rich! What? You wanna play video games? They like video games, too! Come. On. Just this once."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, knowing his friend meant well, but not wanting to be around people while he had one of his usual slumps.

He pondered it for a minute. Maybe it'd be nice to be with other people like him. He'd never really made friends within the industry outside of the members and a few people he'd politely nod to as he walked the hallways of Hybe. Maybe it was time he broke out of his shell and befriended other people who would understand the loneliness that came with being an idol.

"Fine," he replied before his friend could hit him with another rebuttal to his denials. "Just this once."

Wonwoo didn't know what he was expecting any time Mingyu would bring up his outings with the 97's. With Mingyu's extroverted and eccentric personality, both in and out of the public eye, he assumed he meant clubbing or at least hitting up a pub. He wasn't sure what you or Jungkook or Eunwoo were into, but he assumed you'd be somewhat like Mingyu. But he couldn't have been more wrong.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that his loud friend's friends all had a very striking contrast to him. The three idols sitting around him in Eunwoo's (whose name was actually Dongmin, apparently) apartment all seemed very quiet and calm. Their personalities also all seemed to match his better than that of Mingyu's, which made him come to the realization that maybe that was how they'd all befriended each other; through the overgrown puppy's incessant need to befriend everyone in every room he walked into.

Wonwoo appreciated Mingyu, truly. His outgoing nature would sometimes make a shy guy like Wonwoo, who liked to keep himself as small as possible, a little uneasy at times, but be appreciated his best friend's constant aid in getting Wonwoo's mood up. Even now. He hated to admit it, but his sudden decrease in mood seemed to be rapidly disappearing thanks to the new change of environment.

He had quickly taken a liking to Mingyu's three friends.

Dongmin was nice and insightful. A pretty face and a very interesting mind. He saw a bit of himself in him.

Jungkook was polite and funny. He was the perfect balance of childhood friend and college heartrob.

You. Well, Wonwoo hadn't quite figured you out yet. Admittedly, this had been the first time you'd ever spoken past a polite greeting or an inquiry for Mingyu's whereabouts, but he had been able to get a read for the other two members of the group. You were the outlier.

What he knew, though, was that he liked you. Okay, not like that, but there was an easiness that you seemed to carry with you. You were simply easy for him to fall into conversation with. It had already been a few hours (and a few drinks) since Wonwoo and Mingyu had arrived to Dongmin's apartment, and you and Wonwoo had been engaged in ongoing conversation shortly after arriving. And the conversation didn't seem to be heading towards its end any time soon. It had begun as a group outing (well, indoors), but to Wonwoo it now felt like a one-on-one, as the three remaining members of the 97's seemed distracted on their own, leaving you and Wonwoo to converse with each other freely.

-

"Okay, yeah. That can be kind of annoying, but how can you complain about Mingyu?! He's such a sweet guy," you laughed, responding to one of the many lighthearted disses of Mingyu Wonwoo had been feeding you with.

"You don't have to live with him. He's even louder at home," he chuckled.

"Then move out! I live alone now, finally. I love my members, but there's nothing as nice as being alone after coming home from hectic schedules."

"Yeah, I can imagine. Can't do that, though. I don't really like being alone that much," he revealed.

"You? Really? Then how come it's taken Mingyu this long to get you out of the house?," you inquired, leaning towards him with interest.

That was something he liked about you immediately. You listened. You showed visible interest in what he had to say. Granted, none of the things you'd been talking about thus far were groundbreaking (so far you'd managed to speak of predebut stories, hopes for your respective groups, current hobbies, a few movie and book recommendations here and there, and endless other things), but he still appreciated someone outside of his family and members who showed interest in what he had to say. Still, part of him believed he might've been so starved for affection he could've just been reading too much into it.

"Oh," he chuckled. "He told you about that?"

"Fuck. Okay, don't tell him I said this. And I mean it, I trust you, Wonwoo," you paused. "He told us he'd been trying to get you out of the house a bit ... that you'd been feeling down."

Oh. Okay, now he felt a bit awkward. Why would Mingyu give opening for him to receive pity even from strangers?

"Oh. I-"

"So, I insisted he invited you come out with us."

Oh?

"You did? I .. How come?"

"Well. Honestly? I've been there. Having your members is great and all. And if you have a supportive family, that's even better. But our lifestyle's too isolated to not have as many people around us as we can. I don't know how I managed to navigate the industry before meeting Mingyu. He really took me under his wing and made sure I felt welcomed with the other 97's, even with all the shit he got for hanging out with a female idol so publicly."

So, that's how you'd met. Man, he's always known Mingyu as one of the nicest people he's ever met, but this truly made him take the cake. He remembered the articles that came out about both you him (and a few of the other 97-liners) when they'd made you the first female addition to the friend group. He didn't pay them much mind, seeing as dating rumours come by the dozens among idols, but he hadn't really stopped to think about how it might've affected you.

"Did he tell you about .. why I kept saying no?"

"No. And I didn't want to intrude. Your battles are your own, Wonwoo, unless you want to share them."

Well, fuck. He was wrong. Well, right. Both. You did care. You didn't even know him, but you still cared. Or at least it seemed like it. He couldn't really wrap his head around the concept. He hadn't let anyone in (other than his 12 brothers) about what had happened. He had never felt the need to. He felt embarrassed by it. I mean, it was just a break up; an old one no one even knew about. Yes, he got cheated on, but it had been years ago. He should be over it by now. Even though people kept bringing his ex up. But why did he feel like he could confide in you?

He considered it. Telling you, that is. But he quickly realized that was just the alcohol talking. You had just met. He didn't want to scare you away. Hmm. Maybe he should circle back on this thought at some point. He also didn't want to make you privy to the most embarrassing thing about him (the green room shenanigans did not hold a candle to his pathetic heartbreak story if he had anything to say about it). So, he decided to save it for another time. He'd already decided in his head that he'd want to see you again. Maybe he would take up Mingyu on his offer to join the 97's as an honorary member.

The conversation eventually circled back to something more lighthearted, allowing Wonwoo to enjoy your company for a few more hours before Mingyu decided it was time for them to leave, knowing his friends probably had busy days tomorrow, just like any idol would.

Wonwoo couldn't sleep. The effects of the alcohol were fully gone by now; his loose tongue tightened back up and his mood regulated once again. Despite that, his mind was still clouded with thoughts of you. He had originally chalked it up to alcohol, how he felt a strange sense of disappointed upon having to bid his goodbye to you earlier tonight. But, lying in bed many hours later, he realized it was all still in his head. Your long-winded conversation, the drinks you shared together, the genuine care in your eyes, even Mingyu's stupid smirk as they walked back into their apartment, muttering something along the lines of 'I knew you'd have fun'. It was all still running around in his head, depriving him of sleep. He felt an odd sense of anxiousness. Excitement, maybe? He wasn't sure. He was looking forward to finding out though.

-

The next day was filled with schedules. A quick appearance at a comeback show in the morning, followed by a fitting back at the Hybe building, along with a few hours of practice with the boys. He'd always enjoyed hectic days like this. While tiring, they kept his mind occupied, and allowed him to spend the day with some of the people he treasured the most. Seeing carats early in the morning was also a treat. Even if for only a few minutes, walking past the crowd of people waiting for his arrival at MNET was always nice. It made him put a face (well, multiple) to the people who loved him most.

He was now ending his day, just as soon as it had started, when he heard a voice call to him from across the long hallway. Turning around, he found ... you? you! what were you doing here?

"Wonwoo! Wait up!", you quickly caught up to him as he halted his movements in order to wait for you. You two then began walking together.

"Hey ? What are you doing here?"

You stopped. "Really? Wonwoo! I work here? My group's been here for a few months now, did you never notice? Hybe acquired my company last year," despite your shock at his ignorance, there was no actual anger or annoyance in your voice.

He felt kind of bad. You'd spent grand part of last night letting Wonwoo know how much attention you'd paid to Mingyu's retellings of Wonwoo's problems only for him to not know the most basic of things about you. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but it was with small details like this that his ex began to pull away.

"Oh, wait, Wonwoo. I'm not actually mad, I'm sorry. I just assumed you already knew," his face must've told on him. He had to admit that he was kind of paranoid after what had happened. He'd already ruined a few friendships (along with the relationship) with his lack of attention to the people around him. He didn't want to add you to the list of failed relationships so soon.

"Ah. Sorry. I don't really keep track of those things too often. I'm too distracted sometimes."

"I get you. There's too many new groups at Hybe for you to have noticed anyway. Anyways! Are you done for the day?"

He felt his heart accelerate at the thought of you wanting to know what his future whereabouts would be.

"Uh, yeah. I was heading home actually?"

"What? Nooo! Mingyu's taking Jungkook and I out to a little discreet pub he knows. You should come with. Please. They're so annoying when Dongmin's missing," you pleaded, making eyes at him.

You wanted him to come? You were inviting him? He hadn't really gone out for a few weeks (since he began to see people speak of his 'pre-debut ex-girlfriend' that everyone assumed was still in the picture). He had to admit, he found it kind of funny how carats would whine at the idea of him being taken. That was kind of the silver lining; a slight lift to his bad mood surrounding it. He-

"Wonwoo? It's okay if you don't wanna come. I don't wanna pressure you!"

Oh, shit. He was in his head again. He needed to break these habits if he wanted to work on his people skills.

"Oh, sorry. No, I was thinking of something else, sorry," he chuckled awkwardly, "I .. yeah, I'd love to come," he found himself agreeing.

Wonwoo was not an awkward man by any means. His fans and many others knew him as a charming guy, which he really was. He was just going through a weird period in his life. That and you made him nervous for some reason.

"Great,"you smiled back at him, further increasing the speed of his heart.

Wonwoo was extra exhausted after today's events, not being used to outings with people outside of his members after already tiresome days. For some reason, his social battery always drained almost immediately when around people he wasn't too familiar with, and tonight he'd chosen to spend the night at a pub full of strangers. But, hey, at least you were there.

Once more, you and Wonwoo found yourselves in one-on-one conversation. Although Mingyu had been slightly surprised to see his friend arrive with you at the selected meeting spot at the pub, he gave Wonwoo a knowing smile, glad to have his friend out of the house once again.

The goodbye was, again, dreadful for Wonwoo. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He wasn't usually someone to get attached so easily, but your name just called to his ever since that first time he met you. This time had worsened his condition. You drank together, exchanged numbers, maybe even flirted(?) a little, and then went your own ways, sharing a quick hug as you departed.

He hated to rush things (even if it was only in his head), but he had to admit to himself that he liked you. Yeah, like that. He felt like a teenager again; giddy at the thought of you, crushing on the pretty girl his friend introduced him to. He had unofficially sworn off dating two years ago when he broke up with her, but it wasn't like that was too big of an effort considering his dating market as an idol wasn't very expansive anyways. He also didn't want to assume things. You were just a friend. But you were also so pretty, and nice, and you had so much in common with him, you even shared a career! You were just his type, he realized. He wondered why you hadn't dated any of the 97's before. Wait, maybe you had a boyfriend. One Wonwoo, of course, wouldn't know about since you'd just met. Fuck. There he went again, letting his mind spiral over the smallest of things. He needed to give himself a break and just enjoy your friendship. Enjoy the good things he had instead of thinking of the bad. That had been a struggle lately.

You and Wonwoo continued to meet occasionally like that. Eventually meeting almost daily at the company. You'd stop by his practice room to hang out during work, and vice versa. He also found himself begging Mingyu to let him join in on his outings, wanting to see you even after work. He tried to be casual about it, but as soon as his smug friend realized the reason behind Wonwoo's sudden interest, he teased him endlessly about it, making jokes like 'But you're a 98-liner, why would you wanna hang out with us kids?,' a smirk glued to his face. He hadn't told Mingyu about his crush (nor would he ever admit to it), but Mingyu's correct assumption of his feelings for you led his friend to try and become a bit of a matchmaker. He'd now taken a habit to purposely leaving you and Wonwoo alone, even dragging his other friends away when they'd try and make conversation in order to get the two of you together. He was embarrassed by this, but was even more embarrassed that he was kind of thankful for his friend's actions.

Wonwoo had been enjoying the time he got to spend with you alone. Like now. Mingyu had invited you, Dongmin, Jungkook and Jaehyun over to his (and Wonwoo's place), something that didn't tend to happen before since Mingyu had wanted to respect Wonwoo's privacy. This was your first time here. Your first time in Wonwoo's room (door open, of course) as he showed you some of his recent photography that he'd told you about in your previous meeting. Once more, he felt like a teenager as he showed you his art, giddy at your endless compliments towards his talent.

"Jesus. So many idols pick up photography as a hobby, but I'd never seen any of them be actually good at it. Wonwoo, these are amazing!", he heard compliments like this from fans and staff alike very often, but it just had a different effect when it came from you.

He wanted to deny you; be bashful about it and chuckle a polite disagreement to your compliment, but after getting to know you better these past few weeks, he knew that wouldn't fly with you, instead opting for a shy 'thank you' in response.

"I'm serious, Wonwoo. You should do a showing or something! Your fans would love it. And .. you should teach me also!", he loved how enthusiastic you always were. It reminded him a lot of his best friend. Maybe that's why he liked the both of you so much.

He turned his head to face you as you sat next to him on his bed, lap to lap. He hadn't realized how close you had been sitting to one another in order to look at his laptop screen. Before he could scoot away, you turned your head too, now having only a few inches between your faces.

You looked at each other without saying anything, Wonwoo's breath hitching. Any reasonable man would've pulled you in for a kiss as soon as he noticed your eyes trail down to his lips, clearly inciting him to do so. But Wonwoo wasn't a very reasonable man. He was a mess of unreasonable emotions, which led him to his first mistake.

Seeing as he wasn't doing anything, you seemed to become frustrated at his lack of action, leaning in instead of him. Now, that would've been perfect if Wonwoo were, you know, normal. But the end result was less than favorable. As you leaned in, he panicked, getting up from the bed in a rush and creating a very obvious space between you. Your eyes widened, and he caught a hint of hurt and embarrassment behind them at his actions before you quickly took control of your expression.

"I, uhh. It's getting late. You have an early morning, don't you?", fuck, why the hell was he saying that?! Was he kicking you out? Wonwoo kicked himself in his mind, but his mouth kept running against his will. "I have an early morning, maybe you should, uh .."

He caught that hurt in your eyes once more as you responded. "Oh, I .. Right. Sorry .. Yes, I do, actually. I should go now .. Thanks for showing me your pictures. Have a nice night, Wonwoo," you were being far too cordial with him, seemingly making it a point of using overly formal language when the two of you had agreed before to speak casually; as friends.

He fucked it up. Again.

He watched you leave without stopping you. He had every chance to as you looked back at him one more time before exiting his room. He had another chance as he heard you close the front door to his apartment. He could've ran after you (even speed-walking would've sufficed, really), but he stood there like an idiot.

Wonwoo was right. He was incapable of love. Romantic love, at least. He still had many friends and a loving family back home, but he had been right to believe himself unlovable after his ex had left him. Turns out she was right. It was all his fault.

A few weeks had gone by since he last saw you. The text messages between you now unexistent, and the chance for reconciliation dying further every passing day. You hadn't tried to contact him after what happened, nor did you wait outside his practice room every day as you had taken a habit of doing a few weeks into your friendship. Mingyu's invites to hang out with his friends were now left unattended by Wonwoo, not wanting to sour your free time with your friends with his presence. He'd ruined everything, he admitted to himself. It was obvious to him and everyone else that your friendship had begun to blossom into something more. There had been hints here and there of your reciprocation of his feelings, but they terrified him, so he chose to ignore them.

He thought about his feelings, but not yours, he had come to realize a few days after the fact.

He had wanted to kiss you so badly. He'd dreamt about it, even. He felt silly to admit this, but you'd become such a constant in his life in such a short period of time that he found it easy to imagine you there forever now. He felt the same way he did back in high school when he believed himself to be in love with his ex. He realized now that those feelings for her had dissipated quickly after his debut. They'd only been together for so long due to the familiarity of it. Maybe that's why his ex had such a hard time breaking off things with him. Maybe that's why she chose to cheat on him instead. Maybe that familiarity was what made the situation such a mess in the first place.

He had gotten out of his slump thanks to you (and Mingyu, maybe), but now he had fallen right back into it, even worse this time.

It didn't take long for his roommate to notice his friend's absences in their outings, or the stark difference in his mood as soon as he got home every day from being an idol. Mingyu had the privilege (not really) of seeing how whatever happened between you took effect on the both of you. He saw his best friend fall back into his previous depressive state, while he saw you become a shell of yourself. He didn't know what happened, and he honestly didn't care. No one asked for his help, but he was going to give it anyways.

By some act of god, Mingyu was able to convince Wonwoo to leave their apartment long enough to participate in an upcoming outing once more. He had promised that the only other attendee would be Jungkook, as the plan was to have some drinks at the man's house. Other than you, Wonwoo had taken a special liking to Jungkook, having many things in common with him. Wonwoo had only agreed to attend in order to lessen any suspicion Mingyu may have had about the reason behind his current low mood, but he was also happy to see one of his new friends again.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, Mingyu was a meddler. He wasn't entirely sure why he was even surprised at seeing you walk across Jungkook's front door as he sat on one of his couches, drink in hand. An unsuspecting Jungkook let you in, not taking notice of your shocked face at spotting Wonwoo just a few meters away. Wonwoo should've known that Mingyu would get involved sooner or later. He wasn't sure if he was thankful or annoyed at his friend's nosy nature.

Despite your initial shock, you were polite with Wonwoo. You interacted as you used to before the two of you had gotten to know one another. Just a few nods and tight smiles. It killed him inside a little bit. He wanted to fix things; to at least get your friendship back even if he couldn't allow himself more. He would sneak glances at you as you joked and drank with your two friends, feeling a smile grace his face at your laughter. At least you were happy, he thought.

The four of you eventually ended up in one of Jungkook's many guest rooms. This one was a viewing room, as he called it. Special for whenever he wished to invite friends over for a movie. You all sat and shared some commentary at what was playing on screen. To any outsider, this would've looked like the perfect outing. And maybe it was to Mingyu and Jungkook. But the air between you and Wonwoo still felt tense, even despite the occasional nod of acknowledgement you'd make to one another whenever your eyes met.

In a very unpredictable turn of events, Mingyu had managed to get you and Wonwoo in a room alone, dragging Jungkook away under the excuse of doing an impromptu live for his fans. He knew Jungkook wouldn't miss the chance. You and Wonwoo sat next to each other in the now empty movie room, neither of you making a move. He saw you looking at your hands from his peripheral, solemn look on your face. You were usually very talkative and lively. He felt terrible at how his presence in your life had caused such a stark difference in your demeanor. So, he did what he usually wouldn't do, and spoke up first.

"I .. How have you been?"

Great way to break the silence, Wonwoo.

You sat in silence for a beat or two, "Wonwoo, it's fine. We don't have to do this. I'm already embarrassed enough as it is."

Embarrassed? Why would you be embarrassed?

"Embarrassed? At what?"

"Do I really have to say it? I thought I read things right. I thought maybe you might've maybe liked me back. I didn't .. I didn't mean to ruin our friendship over some stupid kiss.," you wouldn't look into his eyes as you spoke, even as he uncharacteristically stared at you with all his attention.

"You ... You didn't do anything wrong. I should've talked to you. Fuck. I should've apologized. I wanted to. Kiss you, I mean. I panicked. It was so soon. I didn't want to pressure you," he had gotten up now, now sitting next to you on the couch.

"Pressure me? I kissed you. Well, tried to ..." you finally turned to look at him in his new proximity. Okay, progress, "I'm sorry, I kind of had an idea of what you were going through and still pushed you. It hurt me that you froze me out like that, but if it was what you felt like you needed to do, then I understand," you said with a sad smile that didn't meet your eyes.

God, why were you so understanding? He felt like an asshole. He was an asshole. Freezing you out was not something he wanted to do to you, but the result of his cowardice. He knew he had hurt you, but your admission to it only made him feel worse.

"You didn't do anything wrong! You- you did what I wanted to do that night. What I was going to do before I backed out like a coward. I wish I'd handled things differently. I wish I'd kissed you .. I-" he was beginning to feel shy at his almost-direct admissions of his feelings towards you, but he needed to continue. He was going to continue, but you had different plans.

As per usual, you knew him better than he did himself. You knew exactly how to salvage the situation without making him open up more than he felt comfortable with doing in his current emotional state. You grabbed his face, interrupting his speech, and ..

You kissed him.

"Like that?", you'd softly asked against his lips.

It was nothing like you'd see in movies. Just a small peck accompanied by your soft hands holding onto his cheeks.

You began to pull away almost immediately, too soon for Wonwoo's comfort. But that kiss had been enough for him to finally snap into action like he should've done weeks ago.

He grabbed you this time, pulling your lips against his again, putting much more into the kiss this time.

He'd never kissed someone like this. He'd kissed many people after his breakup. Hell, he'd done far more than kissing. But none of those moments held a candle to this one. Nothing compared to your soft moans against his lips, or the feeling of your pliant back against his palm. Nothing defeated the feeling of your hands restlessly looking for a place in his body to hold on to. He kissed you with every emotion that had been piling up since you two began to really get to know each other. No, since he first began to spiral into his depressive state. There was not a single emotion in Wonwoo's body that didn't go into that kiss.

Then came other stuff.

Wonwoo hadn't really thought about the sexual aspects of his attraction to you. Other than a few of the restless nights spent alone in his room, you in mind. As he kissed you, however, he couldn't help but begin to feel aroused. You were so pretty and so so soft against his arms. You had both begun to lean down, with his body hovering over yours, holding his body weight above you as not to crush you. You kissed mindlessly for a few minutes, at some point beginning to moan messily against each other's mouths.

Your tongue eventually came out to play with his, making him lightheaded at the sudden wetness of the kiss. You both began to feel dizzy, arousal clouding your minds. Wonwoo tried to pull away, wanting to confirm if what was happening was okay with you, but you wouldn't let him. Instead you pulled him even closer, forcing him all the way on top of you, your crotches now face to face. He decided to take the risk and begin a slow grind against you, which proved rewarding as you began to mewl against his lips, allowing his tongue to roam freely inside your mouth.

Then came even more stuff.

"Wo-wonwoo, please."

God, there was no way he would make it if that's how you sounded after just some light dry humping.

He managed to actually unglue himself from you this time; eyes lidded and breath heavy.

"Baby .. let me .. can I?", he questioned, hands approaching your nether area.

You grabbed his wrist, walking him the rest of the way, nodding desperately as you pressed his hand against your clothed cunt.

"Please, yes. I need you."

He undid the drawstring from your sweats, you aiding him in lowering your sweats just below your ass.

He neared you as much as possible as he began to rub your cunt over the thin fabric of your panties, kissing and biting at your neck as you mewled at the friction. He did this for a while until he decided to bury two of his fingers inside your cunt, making sure to rub your clit lightly with his thumb. He calculated his movements, wanting to go for a slow and steady pace that would have you lightheaded.

You moaned and whined at that, your body not knowing what to do at the pleasure Wonwoo was giving you.

He began to speak against your neck, praising your beauty and the way you oh so prettyly cried for him.

"Wonwoo .. oh, fuck Wonwoo please. Please ..." he wasn't sure what you were begging for, but he wanted more of it. So he sped up, wanting nothing more than to hear your cries of pleasure as he fingered you to completion.

Upon meeting your high, you disconnected from one another, still holding a very close proximity as you shyly smiled at each other. He helped you clean up the slight mess you had made on the couch under you, pulling your sweats all the way back up and helping you get on your feet. Neither of you said anything as he guided you out of Jungkook's apartment, not bothering to say goodbye to your friends. You both knew what you wanted with just a few looks at one another.

You then found yourselves in Mingyu's car. How Mingyu was going to get home, Wonwoo didn't know nor care. Payback for meddling, Wonwoo guessed. All he wanted now was to take you home and show you how much you meant to him.

He had his left hand on the wheel while the other held your hand over the console. You both felt giddy at the small displays of affection you'd been showing each other, sharing shy smiles and blushing at catching the other staring. It was kind of funny considering your current destination. It was all mostly wordless until your fast arrival to Mingyu and Wonwoo's shared apartment, where you both finally stopped to speak before entering the door.

"Wonwoo, wait," you stopped him before he was able to put his key in the lock.

"What's wrong?"

You seemed uneasy. Maybe this was too soon? Had he gone too far by what he did in Jungkook's house? Fuck. Okay, maybe fingering you in your friend's house while your friends were in the other room right after confessing to you (did he even confess ??) wasn't the best idea for a reconciliation. Maybe he should'v-

"Are you sure about this? I .. I don't wanna pressure you ..."

You were far too considerate of his feelings for his own good. But he didn't care about his feelings right now. He cared about yours. Because if you were happy, then he was happy. He just wanted you.

He turned his body to face you, grabbed both of your hands and squeezed lovingly. He no longer felt that sense of anxiousness when speaking his feelings to you. He felt at ease, and he wanted you to also.

"I'm sure. I want you. Anything you'll give me. If you want to go past that door and just let me hold your hand, I'll take it. If you want me to drive you back home, I'll do it. If you want to tell me off for making you wait for me to grow the balls to show you how I felt, I'll understand that too. Forget about my pace. It's been enough about me. I want to think about you. It's all about you," he finished his little speech feeling not an ounce of bashfulness, but rather an uncharacteristic sense of relief. He felt more than content at freely telling you how he was feeling.

You smiled up at him. "It's always about you for me, Wonwoo."

It took a bit of convincing from you, really. Repeating over and over again pleas and words of affirmation to ease his mind. He felt bad. He did say this was all about you. Which is why he'd insistently denied you when you first walked across the door, hand in hand, and immediately begged to suck his dick. He was caught off guard at first. He wanted to take care of you for once, not the other way around. You'd argued that he already had, insisting that he'd be doing you a favour by letting you get his cock in your mouth. Now, that .. that had gotten an involuntary reaction out of him. He couldn't help himself. You were a pretty girl - now his pretty girl - practically begging to get his dick wet. Batting your eyelashes at him and running your hands up and down his chest, muttering words such as "you'll let me take care of you, won't you?", or "i just wanna make you feel good," or his favorite "just a little bit, baby, want it so bad. been dreaming about it .."

That's how he now had you on your knees as he stood with his back against his front door, hands holding your hair out of your face as you tortured him with your tongue. You had prepared him by rubbing his dick for a minute or so, then moving onto kitten licking his tip and running your tongue ever so slowly up and down the protruding veins. You were taking your time, clearly enjoying his stuttered breaths above you.

You finally wrapped your mouth around him, sucking and licking at the tip, making all thought in his mind leave him immediately. He threw his head back against the wall at the pressure and warmth of your mouth, groaning out your name.

"Fuck .. just like that. Shit, I-fuck," there was no proper sentence that could leave his mouth as you fully enveloped his cock in your mouth, moaning around it.

Then he made the mistake of looking down, staring directly into your eyes, which were rolled back in pleasure, brows furrowed in concentration as you gave him your best performance. He hadn't known pleasure like this in ages, staring down at your pretty face as you lost yourself in the pleasure of the weight of his cock on your tongue.

You continued like this, doing everything that seemed to get a reaction out of him until drawing him almost to completion.

"Shit, baby, I'm gonna cum. You gotta- fuck. Baby, wait. Wanna fuck you ..." he tried to stop you, not wanting to cut the night short before he could get you as close as physically possible to him, your walls warmly wrapped around him. The thought did not help matters, as he felt his end approach even sooner. You also did not seem to care, as you fastened your movements and moaned even louder against him, vibrations triggering his impending orgasm. You swallowed every bit he gave you, humming at the taste.

You must be evil, he thought, watching you continue to lightly suck and lick at him even past completion, not caring that he half-heartedly tried to push you away from the slight overstimulation. When you finally pulled away, he held your hands in order to get you back up to your full height, eyes glued to your lips. He couldn't help himself. He felt depraved at the thought, but he needed to taste you and the remnants of himself twirling in your tongue. So he did what any sensible man would do, and shoved his tongue in your mouth, intertwining yours and his as he sucked his remaining juices out of your mouth and gave them back to you as he dragged your tongue back and forth. You moaned loudly into his mouth, growing restless at the lack of pleasure where you needed him most.

You pulled away, and wordlessly gave him eyes that could only mean one thing. Your eyes always got to him. One look and he'd give you whatever you wanted, so he promptly held your hand once more and led you to his room, laying you down on his bed and slowly undressing you. He wanted to savour every part of your body he'd been dying to see. Every article of clothing he removed, he caressed the skin behind. He faced you away from him and felt you up from behind, running his hands up and down your body as you pressed yourself even more against him, dizzy at the pleasure of his hands against you. He fondled your breasts and ass, wanting to commit them to memory. You moaned at the way he touched you, enticing him to continue. After a while of worshiping your body, he laid you back down, your body now facing him, and undressed himself.

He felt a strong sense of pride at the moan the sight of his bare chest pulled out of you. Your hands drew themselves towards him as you ran them up and down his chest, forming goosebumps anywhere your fingertips graced. He finally lowered himself down and pressed your chests together, wanting to be as close as possible.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, as if it was a secret no one could ever know, "You're all mine now. Never letting you go again", he began to grind his bare length against you, now hard again against your folds.

You whined at his actions, mind clouded by his words of affection. "Nonu ... please. I need it. Need you, just- Argh! Fuck ..." he swiftly entered you, interrupting your pleas for him.

God, you felt so tight and warm around him. Your body so pliant and soft against his. He had never felt more bliss than when you arched your back and pressed your tits against his chest, harshly digging your nails on his shoulders as you moaned out his name.

Pleasure overtook his mind, making him wax poetic at you endlessly, letting out his deepest of feelings for you.

"Want you always. Can't breathe without you."

"Never wanna be away from you again. You're everything."

"Gonna keep you ... keep you close to me. Just like this ..."

Then came something not even he expected himself to utter.

"L-love you. Fuck. So much. Is it too soon? I love you. Never felt like t-fuck .. like this before."

His words seemed to have an instant effect on you, as you tightened impossibly harder around him, crying his name as your orgasm suddenly hit you. The tightening of your walls, along with knowing the effect he had on you, brought Wonwoo to his end almost immediately after, claiming his orgasm on your stomach as he pulled out with a high whine of your name.

A few minutes of cleaning you up later and Wonwoo found the both of you under his covers, you laying your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around one another, softly running his hands up and down your arm. No words exchanged between the two of you.

As per usual, you broke the silence, turning yourself to face his side while still in his hold. He mirrored your actions, holding you even closer as you stared into each other's eyes, shy smiles on your faces.

"I love you too. It's not too soon. I love you, Wonwoo."

Your words took his breath away once more. What he had confessed in the throes of passion was being reciprocated. He hadn't shared the three words with anyone ever since his break up. His breakup, which had been the furthest thing from his mind ever since he had realized his feelings for you.

You fell asleep like that; holding each other tightly and muttering words of affection at each other every so often until sleep won you over. Wonwoo had never had such peaceful sleep, having never had the pleasure of holding someone he cared so much about in his sleep.

The news broke out quickly. Not to the public, of course, but to Mingyu, who had found you in bed the next morning when he'd noticed your absences last night, rushing home worried that maybe his plan to get you two to talk had backfired. Safe to say that Mingyu smugly took credit over your reconciliation (he might've deserved maybe a 15% of the credit). Then the news broke out to the 97 liners, who happily welcomed Wonwoo back into the group under the name of honorary 97-liner. Then his group mates found out, along with yours. They were all very accepting, having noticed your feelings for one another before you even did. Finally, the news broke out to your shared company. This was the trickiest one, but your insistence in the validity of your love for one another was able to triumph over any obstacles.

It had now been a few months since that fateful night, the words I love you being uttered between the two of you daily. Even as you worked your busy idol schedules and had distance put between you every once in a while, your relationship prospered, giving Wonwoo a new sense of what being loved truly was. He no longer felt like his ex had been right about him being unlovable. You had taught him to know better, while he showed you the same care in return.

Wonwoo no longer winced at the mentions of his 'pre-debut girlfriend', but even laughed along at the memes his fans made about their favorite idol being taken. Now knowing that, yes, he was taken, but had something even better now; you.

[browniesarethebest]

Father's Day

A Reverse Batfamily Fic

Summary: It's Dick's first Father's Day without his family.

Dick had thought Mother’s Day had been difficult, but Father’s Day proved to be an even bigger challenge for him.

At least with Mother’s Day, he didn’t have any guilt about replacing his mami. Sure, he had given his card to Selina, but he only saw her about once a week or so. He considered her a mother figure, but he did not yet consider her Mom. 

Father’s Day was a different matter.

Dick didn’t want to replace his tati. He loved his parents more than life itself, and he still had a difficult time wrapping his mind around the fact that he would never see them again, though months had passed since their murder.

But…

He couldn’t deny the feelings that were brewing the longer he stayed at Wayne Manor. He couldn’t deny the joy he felt with every story Bruce read to him before bed or the safety he felt when Bruce let him crawl into the man’s bed after a nightmare. He couldn’t deny the way the words “daddy” and “tati” bubbled at his lips before he swallowed them back down.

It felt like the worst betrayal to his father, but he still couldn’t help it.

Dick could also admit that he was afraid. How would Bruce react to him referring to the man as his father? He knew the others referred to Bruce as their dad (for the most part at least), and Bruce seemed happy to be referred to this way, but what if Dick was the exception? Bruce already had so many kids, including a biological one! Why would he want another?

Dick knew he was probably being ridiculous, but his time in the detention center—as well as the harsh words from his fellow classmates—had done some serious damage to his self-image. Dick could admit to that.

As Father’s Day approached, Dick began avoiding Bruce. It wasn’t too hard at first. Bruce spent a lot of his time either at Wayne Enterprises or patrolling Gotham. However, Dick could only ask one of the others to read him a story before bed instead of Bruce so many times before the man would get suspicious.

Bruce finally spoke up one night after patrol. The others were heading out of the Cave when Bruce asked, “Dick, do you mind staying back for a moment?”

Dick froze. “O-Okay.”

The others glanced at Dick but continued heading out, giving the boy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they passed him. Bruce waited for everyone to leave before speaking again.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Dick startled. “What?”

“Did I do something wrong?” Bruce repeated, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. “I’ve spent the last few days trying to think of anything I could have done to upset you, but I’m coming up blank.”

“You didn’t!” Dick blurted out. “You didn’t do anything. I…It’s me.”

Bruce was silent, and Dick worried that he would ask for more information. Dick wasn’t sure how to explain his feelings, and he didn’t want to upset or disappoint the man. Thankfully, Dick didn’t have to worry. Bruce informed him that he wouldn’t pry for now, but if Dick did need someone to confide in, he always had his siblings.

Dick left the Batcave with Bruce, an idea forming in his head.

“Timmy?”

Tim paused his reading of The Lightning Thief from the Percy Jackson series and looked at the boy beside him. He and the others weren’t sure why Dick was avoiding Bruce, but they figured he would come to one of them eventually. It seemed like now would be that time.

“Yes, Dick?”

Dick bit his lip and hesitated. Tim smiled at him encouragingly. “What was your first Father’s Day like without your dad?”

Tim froze before mentally facepalming. Of an entire family of detectives, none of them could figure out that Dick was feeling conflicted over his feelings about Bruce as the holiday approached. And of course, Tim was the one he approached about it. It made sense when Tim thought about it. While his dad hadn’t been the best, he had been leagues above the fathers of the rest of his siblings (except Damian, of course). If anyone was going to come close to what Dick was currently feeling, it was Tim.

“It was…difficult. My dad and I had our ups and downs, but he was still my dad, and I loved him. I still love him.” Tim paused. He had to think about his next words very carefully. “I just want you to know, Dick. My dad is still my dad, no matter what. Even though I consider Bruce my dad, it doesn’t mean I’m replacing my biological dad. He’s just…another dad.”

Dick sniffled and inched closer to Tim, who took the hint and wrapped his arm around his younger brother. Tim continued, “I think if your dad could see you now, he’d be so happy to know that you were able to find a family to love and take care of you until you could see your parents again.”

Tears gathered in Dick’s eyes. “Do you really think so?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure since I never knew him, but from the way you talk about him, I believe so. He sounds like he was an amazing man.”

Dick sniffled again and rubbed at his nose. He cuddled closer to Tim and shakily said, “Yeah, he was.”

Tim ran his fingers through Dick’s hair. “You don’t have to think of Bruce as your dad if you don’t want to—it’s your choice. Just know, though, that if you do think of him that way, that doesn’t mean that you consider John any less your dad either. You can have two dads and love them both equally. It’s like…It’s like having two best friends, you know?”

“Like Barbara and Wally?”

“Exactly.” Tim smiled. “Whatever you decide, we’ll all support you.”

“Thanks, Timmy.”

Tim read one more chapter of the book to Dick before tucking him in for the night. He stared at his Superman night light as Tim left the room, resolving to talk to Bruce the next day.

If the next day happened to be Father’s Day, that was just a coincidence.

“Bruce?”

Bruce looked up from his desk and found his youngest standing in the doorway to his study.

He smiled softly. “Hey, chum. Come on in.”

Dick shuffled into the room slowly, his head down and his hands hiding behind his back. It was so different from the boy’s usual exuberance and bouncing step that Bruce immediately became concerned.

“Is everything all right, Dick?”

Dick nodded but stayed silent, making his way around the desk to stand in front of Bruce.

“M’sorry I’ve been avoiding you lately, Bruce.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Bruce said, cupping Dick’s cheek. “You know you don’t have to tell me—”

“I want to!” Dick paused and took a deep breath before speaking again. “I want to. It’s not fair to you, so I want to tell you.”

Bruce waited as Dick seemed to gather his courage.

“Father’s Day is today.” Bruce tensed but let Dick continue. Dick’s voice wobbled as he spoke. “I…I love my tati, and I miss him a lot. It hasn’t even been that long…” Dick cut himself off before he could finish that thought. “He’ll always be my dad, but I think…I think you might be too.”

Dick looked away, not wanting to see whatever expression was on Bruce’s face. “I’ve been avoiding you because I feel really guilty. I don’t—I don’t want to replace my tati. But Timmy said it wouldn’t be replacing him. I’d just have two dads.” Dick still wasn’t looking at Bruce. “But if you don’t want that—”

Dick stopped as another hand cupped his other cheek. He looked up to see Bruce staring back at him with an unreadable expression.

“Dick—” Bruce cleared his throat and started again. “Dick, I don’t want to replace your father either, but I would be honored to be considered your dad. I already consider you my son.”

“Really?” Dick asked, eyes watering. 

At Bruce’s nod, Dick’s arms came out from behind his back, thrusting something into Bruce’s hands. Bruce looked down to see a handmade card with Happy Father’s Day! on the front. 

“I gave one to Selina on Mother’s Day,” Dick said, like a confession. 

“I love it,” Bruce replied, touched. This was definitely going on the fridge.

Dick and his siblings spent the rest of the day showering Bruce with love and cliche gifts. His siblings were happy to see Dick snuggling up to Bruce on the couch, and Tim gave him a knowing smile.

Dick still felt pain, knowing that he would never again celebrate this holiday (or any holiday) with his parents, but as he stood in front of their graves, hands clasped with Tim and Bruce, Dick thought that he’d be fine. He’d see his parents again, of that he was sure. In the meantime, his family would be there for him, and he’d never be alone again.

[softguarnere]

would eat up anything with spears x a combat medic/nurse reader :)

Learn to be Lonely

Ron Speirs x reader

A/N: The way that I went feral upon seeing this request in my inbox. I immediately knew I had to commandeer it to add to my soft!Speirs agenda. Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you enjoy this! 💕

Warnings: sickness, mentions of war, the author probably confusing "lie" and "lay" (it is what it is; we're just going with it at this point)

Amidst all the chaos, it's the little pockets of peace like this that make you feel, just for a moment, like things could be almost normal again. Despite the fact that some of the Haguenau buildings that Easy has been quartered in have missing walls, are covered with a thin tissue of dust, and that the world perpetually looks as dull as an oncoming rain cloud, waking up before the men and sitting up at the kitchen table sipping on warm coffee provides a moment of what's as close to relaxation as you can get under the circumstances.

Eugene always arrives shortly after you sit down with your coffee. Neither of you talk much, but you're grateful for the company -- your thoughts become a little too loud if no one else is around, but something about your fellow medic provides a sense of comfort. Even when you do talk -- even when it has to be about the war you're both trying to forget for a moment, and the men, and how they're doing -- it's pleasant.

But this morning, something seems to be on Doc Roe's mind.

There's no denying that you're both observant; it just comes through in different ways. Whereas Eugene is quiet and enjoys people-watching, picking up on the men's little ticks and mannerisms, you're more outgoing, getting to know them and their thoughts and feelings on a personal level. It's what makes you work so well as a team -- you're able to compare notes and spot problems with them almost immediately. Which means that you can also spot problems with each other.

Eugene sits across the grimy kitchen table from you and takes a sip of the bitter coffee you brewed. His brow is furrowed, which wouldn't necessarily be unusual, but he keeps frowning into his coffee cup. Several times he opens his mouth slightly and draws a breath, like he's getting ready to say something, but then he stops himself and takes a sip of the coffee instead.

"Something wrong?" You finally ask.

His slender frame jerks as he looks up at you. He blinks. "Oh. No." He pauses. "I'm not sure."

You sip your coffee, waiting for him to continue.

His voice is quiet, like he's afraid someone might overhear him, and he looks almost puzzled when he admits, "I think that something might be wrong with Captain Speirs."

"Speirs? That's the last thing we need. First Lipton, now him . . ."

"Well, I'm not sure." Eugene frowns down at his coffee again. He shakes his head. "He's hard to read."

"That's an understatement."

"I noticed it last night, when most of the men were downstairs, joking around and playing cards. He stayed towards the edges of the room, and then I saw him slip out early and head upstairs. I assume he went to bed."

That in itself wouldn't be so unusual; Captain Speirs is a private person, and when Easy Company isn't in active combat, he's often more of a presence than a part of the group.

"I don't know," Eugene says again before you can point this out. "Something about him just seemed . . . different. Off, even."

"Maybe he was just tired," you suggest, even though you're not able to think of a single time during the whole war that you've seen the legend of a man anything other than alert.

"Yeah." Eugene agrees. "Maybe."

Voices approach the kitchen, and a second later, some of the men start shuffling in, roused and fortified by the smell of coffee -- however bad it may be.

"You checked on Lip yet?" You ask your fellow medic. And then your morning continues just like any other one.

--

Something is not right, you think to yourself as you watch Skinny and Liebgott march off in defeat, looking frustrated. It's the fifth time since that morning that someone has asked you if there's any chance that you know where Captain Speirs is. And, you have to wonder as you make your way towards the bedroom in the quiet corner of the house most of the company is quartered in, maybe no one has thought to do the obvious thing and check his room.

You pause just outside the door, unsure. You don't know Speirs particularly well. He's the Captain, yes, but he's more distant than other officers. Would he even want someone to check on him? Where others might see it as a gesture of concern and goodwill, someone like Speirs might see it as overstepping, you reason as snatches of rumors play in your memory.

No. You make up your mind -- you're a medic and it's your job to watch out for the health and wellbeing of these men. If he sees it as overstepping, then it's his problem. Your raise your fist and knock on the door before you can talk yourself out of it.

It's quiet, and slow, but from the other side of the door, you can just make out the sounds of movement. A moment later the door handle squeaks and a pair of dark, sunken eyes peers at you from the door's crack.

The door opens wider to reveal Captain Speirs, but not as you've ever known him. Whereas your Captain stands tall, alert, and ready to move at a moment notice, this man moves slowly, and keeps blinking, like he can't get his eyes to focus. Not to mention the shakiness in his hands as he opens the door.

"(Y/N)?" His voice sounds hoarse.

It takes you a minute to find your voice. "Captain Speirs, Sir. Are you okay?"

He blinks rapidly for a moment and then leans against the doorway. Even in the low lighting of the hall, his face glistens in a sheen of sweat. "(Y/N), I think . . . I think that something is wrong." He squints at you. "Aren't you cold?"

"No, Sir. Are you? You're sweating."

"Am I?" He sounds shocked, but his brow only furrows slightly.

"Captain, everyone has been looking for you all morning."

The Speirs that you know never would have been in a situation like this, you have to remind yourself, but if he had, he would have jumped into action the minute he realized something was wrong. But this Speirs doesn't seem fazed. Yes, you affirm, something is wrong.

Speirs shuts his eyes and draws in a deep breath -- or at least, as deep a breath as he can manage. You step forward and prod him with gentle hands, back into his room, back into bed. He doesn't protest.

"Sir, have you eaten anything today?" You ask as you cover him with a blanket. "Have you had anything to drink?"

He shakes his head. You had assumed as much. You're already planning a course of action for how to deal with this. Making sure that the Captain doesn't get dehydrated from isolating himself all morning is just another step in that plan.

"I'm sick, aren't I?" He asks when he sees you rummage through your medic kit for something to give him. Something in his voice is different than you've ever heard it. He doesn't sound defeated, exactly, but he sounds tired and . . . sad?

"I'm afraid so. You might have picked up Lipton's pneumonia. We'll have to figure out what this is so we can fight it."

Strong hands scrub themselves over his face as he sighs. "Hate bein' sick," he mutters.

You reach out and pat his shoulder -- without even thinking about it, just like you would for any of the other men -- as you assure him, "We're going to fix that."

--

What would you do without George Luz? you have to wonder. You've seen other men in Easy practically beg him for the chocolate bars and cigarettes being shipped in, only to be refused. But the second that you asked for an extra food ration and had only sent him a beaming smile when he asked why you needed it, he tossed one to you with a wink, and even gave you first dibs on some of the medicine that had arrived that morning. Being friends with the radioman in charge of supplies has it's perks.

Even though it takes a minute for him to pack some medical supplies into a box and asks you to take some to Doc Roe, you don't think much of it -- someone as private as Speirs probably isn't very keen to have you rushing back to play doctor in a space as personal as his room.

You're in such a good mood after seeing the shocked looks on the rest of the company's faces when Luz gives into you that you smile all the way to Lipton's room, where you know Eugene will be. You trade off some of the medicine Luz sent you with with a quiet "I found the Captain" before you head back.

You knock lightly on the door of Speirs' room before entering with the food ration and medicine, despite the fact that you know he's inside, and that he should be lying on the bed.

Should be.

He's sitting on the side of the bed, feet flat on the floor, hand on his knees and head bowed, looking fatigued.

"Captain?" You question.

"I thought --" he stops, swallows thickly. "-- I was going to look for someone."

"For who? Me?"

He nods. "I just . . . nevermind."

Well okay then. If it weren't for the fact that you were so worried about him, seeing him act so unlike himself might be a bit funny. Who would have thought that Ron Speirs, of all people, would be a person who would get loopy when sick? You would have imagined him to be someone who muscled through it.

Gently, you help him lie back down. You make sure he eats and you give him some medicine. You even give him gentle reassurances that he'll be better soon, just like the good medic that you are. But something stops you from leaving him and moving on to see if anyone else in the company needs looking after.

"Will you be okay, Sir?" You ask.

He shrugs. "Do I just stay here? And sleep through this?"

"That would probably be the most conducive to your recovery. No paperwork and overworking yourself like Sergeant Lipton."

You wouldn't be surprised if he protested, insisting that there are things to be done and that he's going to do them. Instead, he frowns.

"I'm quarantined in here by myself." Something about the way that he says it tugs at your heart strings. You're trying to decide if the sickness is causing him to act unlike himself or reveal something about who he really is when he says, "I hate being alone."

"Really?" There's no time to stop the surprise from slipping out. If he notices, he doesn't care. He only nods. "But everyone thinks that you prefer it."

Silence starts to settle over you like the dust that perpetually covers so much of the house's interior, but you decide to break it before you even really figure out why. "I could stay with you, Sir. If you would like."

He blinks up at you. "You would? You're not afraid of me like the others?"

He might as well have punched you in the gut, what with the way the sentiment lands. You're just as guilty as everyone else, thinking of Speirs as some sort of demigod who prefers solitude to human companionship.

But suddenly he's not that person anymore. He's not Speirs the Killer. He's not Speirs the Legend. He's Speirs the man. He's a man. And he's sick. And he's lonely.

And he seems like he really wants you to stay with him.

You perch on the edge of the bed and run your hand through his sweaty hair under the guise of checking his temperature. "Why would I be afraid of you?"

A hum of contentment escapes him as your fingers card his dark locks. His eyes flutter shut, but just before they can, he sighs, "Well, I'm glad you're not." And then he falls asleep before you can ask what he means by that.

It would be easy to leave. He's asleep and he wouldn't notice. There are other things you could be doing. But you said you would stay, and you have no intention of turning yourself into a liar.

Part of you wonders if he'll feel better when he wakes up, become embarrassed by what he admitted, and send you away. Something that you can't quite name stirs within you as you watch him sleep, and you find that you don't want that to happen.

However you two might feel about what has just happened is something you can deal with later. For now, you're content to just watch the legend -- no, the man -- look uncharacteristically peaceful while he sleeps.

[memo15g]

Flight to Vietnam (7/5-7/6) | Kalvin Nguyen (UCI)

IT'S TIIIIMMMMEEEE! Honestly, it feels so surreal that mission trip is about to begin and that we'll be in Vietnam in just a few (or actually a lot of ╥﹏╥) hours! I was so excited to be working with and getting to know so many of the fellow 15Gers during this trip and working under the same cause and goal! I was dropped off with by my family and bid them a bittersweet goodbye before being greeted by our amazing BOD members, Hayley and Kat (idk where Thu was, probably tweakin or something). With my two suitcases in hand and the large MEMO Box #41 (okay I got a cart for like $6 but same difference ┐(°‿°)┌), I entered the airport to join the rest of the 15Gers. And.... barely anyone was there yet because I arrived like an hour early for call time, so just imagine a bunch of wooos, yipees, and high-fives.

Okay, the next part is just typical airport check-in and security and kinda boring, so let's just fast forward and... yay! Got through some stellar American TSA! Anyways... we got in and I was so excited to get onto our flight at 12:45AM! I walked to the gate with so much anticipation and excitement with Calvin and Wendy. We were so close and just had to get onto the plane.... in 2 hours... (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻ To calm my insanity, I went to explore the airport shops with Calvin, Cindy, and Wendy! We didn't really buy anything cause... well... we're still in America and we're broke college students, but it was fun hanging out and perusing the different stores! By the time we returned to the rest of group, we still had an hour left. To kill more time, I joined in the playing card game festivities (no gambling here though, gotta still keep everything non-profit ⊂(▀¯▀⊂ )). I lost miserably but before I even knew it, we were all getting ready to board our gate!

Above: Calvin, Cindy, Wendy, and I wearing some cool shades in a US airport store.

We finally boarded the plane safe and sound but it's pretty boring for the next 13 hours so it's time for a time skip! So quick recap of the plane ride. I'm a grown, big, strong man and sleep is for the weak, so I ended up sleeping 80% of the plane ride like a baby (•‿•). Also quick plane food review: It sustained me, and satiated my hunger. Good but could be better. 7/10

So we didn't fly directly into Vietnam, but had a layover in Taipei for 2 hours. Unfortunately, our MEMO group got split in half for this layover with the other group having a 9 hour layover. Since I was part of the shorter layover, I couldn't really go explore the Taipei airport (it was huge btw! ( 〇□〇)) or go outside to explore. I really wanted to get some boba from its place of origin, but I guess it'll have to wait. Maybe I can get it on the way back to the US (sorry to break the immersion but post-mission trip kalvin here! he didn't get his boba......╰(ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥ ╰)). To pass by the 2 hours, I played some card games with Jules, Mia, Michi, Wendy, and Avery. After playing cards the first time back at Ontario Airport, there's no way I could lose! I didn't win a single time... We were having so much fun that we didn't realize there was a group of elderly crowding around us and watching us play! It was such a fun time, but we had to board our flight to Vietnam!

Skip by 3ish hours and we finally arrived to Vietnam! The plane ride was pretty uneventful so... sorry, no ranking this time. After we made a swift transition through customs, we waited patiently for our luggage and knew that we were in Vietnam from all the duct-taped boxes on the carousel. After we managed to get all our luggage, we reunited with Joseph (my fav uci fundraising chair (〜^∇^ )〜) and hauled all of our luggage to the bus which was quite a walks away... After the ordeal that was luggage, we went to a nice lunch spot called RuNam which was pretty good or maybe I was just tired. Anyways pretty good! Would eat there again! 8/10

Above: Meeting up with Joseph at Vietnam.

Finally... after pretty much two days, we finally made it to our hotel! After such a long and grueling journey, I would be finally able to lay in a comfortable bed in an air-conditioned room! Sleep was finally on the horizon and I was ready to just fall asleep as soon as I made contact with the bed! So then... I went out with some friends to go exploring! We went to Cho Ben Thanh and Miniso to do a little shopping (i didn't buy anything though). The highlight of the excursion was when we went to this coffee shop called COMA. I got a lemongrass, orange, peach tea which was so good! 9/10 However, this place taught me to never get matcha ever in Vietnam unless you love floral tasting drinks (second immersion break: unless it is McD's omg please try the matcha there it's so good!!!! not sponsored but if you're interested McD's, please contact help@aboutmemo.org! (・ω<)). Unfortunately, Joseph and Cindy both got a Matcha Frostie and everyone universally did not like it. 3/10

I swear this is the last paragraph! Anyways, we got back to the hotel and rested up while we waited for the second group to arrive! Afterwards, we ate dinner which was primarily seafood which I usually like but this place was alright. Edible but not bad. 5/10 Finally, I got to sleep in my bed, getting all the rest to prepare me for a chaotic and unforgettable mission trip! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

[rayofsunas]

s/o goes on a mission with them.

A/n: so, as you may or may not have seen by my recent “updates” I’m obsessed with genshin, and I’m pretty sure for one day I played for a solid 5 hours- my eyes hurt pls. but I did miss writing, I’ve just been unmotivated and busy with college stuff (mainly stressing, I haven’t even started my essay yet shh). n e ways, here’s an update, I hope this quenches your thirst 🙊

Summary: s/o goes on a mission with them. 

Parings: Kaeya/Reader, Diluc/Reader, Xiao/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader (all with a fem reader)

Warnings: crack, swearing, worrying Teyvat bois

Word count: 1.7k

Kaeya

when you’re assigned to be on a mission just the two of you, you assume he’s happy, and don’t get me wrong, he totally is!

usually you’re never on missions together, deciding it was better that way because you both get distracted (you realized after marrying, space was always nice too, space was healthy)

though the decision mainly came about because you two good around a lot... and other things 😏

no but deep down he’s worried when you go on this mission together, it’s been a while since the two of you have, a little too long, and the nerves came back

he’s always worried whenever you go on missions, and sure he’ll always be there to protect you when he’s with you (not that you need it) but anything can happen

sure taking out a bunch of Hilichurls was deemed easy, especially together, but he still worried

he never said a word about it though, he’d always keep a watchful eye on you (he does have a reputation to keep after all)

“Ya know, you did well today.” You said plopping down beside your husband, using your pyro ability to light the twigs and leaves in front of you.

“Of course I did,” he boasted, eye lighting up in the dark of the night. “What kind of Knight would I be if I hadn’t, babe.”

You groaned in annoyance, this was the ever so haughty husband you knew.

“Please, I could’ve easily wiped your ass if it weren’t for the fact that we haven’t been paired together in a while; I forgot about your skill.” You teased. The cryo user glared at you.

“Skill? Surely, I have more than one.” He snipped teasingly. Your head shook, feigning innocence. “Are you sure?” A hum sounded in your throat. “I couldn’t tell... Maybe if you hadn’t been staring holes into me every time I used my sword, I could see your progression.”

Kaeya visibly tensed, but he tried to make it go unnoticed, you saw his shoulders raise slightly. 

“Hmm?” You laughed wholeheartedly. 

“Don’t ‘hmm’ me, mister.”

Despite having been caught, a grin spread across his face, he was enjoying your teasing tonight it seemed.

“There’s a reason we don’t go on missions together, but, I did have fun with you today, despite the worrying part.”

Diluc

um, the ever so stoic and emotionless fire boy is WORRIED AF

and he accidentally lets it show

he’s totally fine if you’re only going against a few low-rank Hilichurls and Slime, but against any of the Hypostasis’s, he’s worried for your wellbeing (after a few days of trying to beat one of the Hypostasis’s I finally did, APPLAUD ME PLS, I was crying)

the very first mission you went on together, the job was done quickly and without much trouble, but before and after, he would not stop asking you if you would like to be escorted back to the Knights headquarters

he said it was his duty to protect any and every Mondstadt Citizen

you knew he was also just particularly worried about you

despite being worried, he is happy you’re here, though wishes it were under different circumstances other than battle 

he rarely sees you, so it’s a nice change to be placed on a mission together instead of alone, you missed each others company

BUT HE’S STILL WORRIED

“I’m a Knight of Favonius, I don’t particularly need to be escorted back, I appreciate your concern though.” Poor Diluc, the face he made looked like pure defeat, you used the Knight of Favonius card on him. And yes, you were capable, but he did know a certain Knights of Favonius Captain who he loathed a little too much,

“That’s why I’m worried.”

You scoffed at his jab, though it didn’t necessarily hurt too much.  

“Please, I can handle myself. We’re not all like Captain Kaeya, but even then give him some credit!”

“I know you’re more than capable but-”

”No buts! Let me do what I know how, please. Or else I could slip up, and then actually put myself in danger.”

“Okay...” You nodded, sending a soft thanks to your lover's way, but he just stared at you before muttering, “But let me escort you back to Mondstadt.”

👁 👄 👁

“I’m sorry, did you hear a word I just said?”

“I see your skills darling, but-” He paused, noticing how your arms folded across your chest. You were annoyed. “I’d much prefer if you took care of the greatest battle of all; Kaeya.”

“Kaeya does not need my assistance.”

“He’s probably in a ditch somewhere, and it would be much appreciated by Jean if we did not leave him to rot there,” Diluc explained. 

You had seen Kaeya earlier, and yes although he usually frequented the bars and whatnot, he was surprisingly sober. He hadn’t promised he would stay that way, but it would take hours for said man to get completely drunk to the point where he was immobile. You had only left Mondstadt four hours ago. 

“Amber can find him. She did last time,” He watched in disbelief as you sauntered off towards the hill in front of you, dead set on continuing your mission. “Come on I see an Electro Hypostasis ahead.”

“Also, you could’ve just said you were worried about me, instead of trying to send me back home! Kaeya is fine, worrywart.”

Xiao

it’s not that he’s worried about you and it’s not that he shouldn’t be worried either 

he can be both given the right moment

the only reason he doesn’t want you going with him is because he claims he focuses better on missions alone

you could understand where he was coming from, but you would’ve liked to have gone with him when he first left

you mentioned going on a mission with him in Liyue the night before he locked you in your Liyue Harbor Guesthouse room 

you were still asleep when he’d snuck out and had found a note in the sheets where he’d previously been sleeping hours ago

it read, went on a quick mission, be back soon. - Xiao

...one of the cleaning ladies had come to your rescue after seeing various lounge chairs from the hallway stacked and pushed against the door (she was supposed to clean the room that morning after having seen Xiao leaving, figuring it was empty to begin cleaning)

she was shocked to see you hurriedly throwing your shoes on and grabbing your spear, confused obviously

she’d asked if you were being held against your will or if you were in danger, but you’d dashed off before you could give her an answer

eventually after asking a few Liyue Harbor Merchants, you were able to get a rough estimate as to where your boyfriend went

when you finally caught up to him, out of breath, he was somewhat shocked to see you

“Hey!” You called after the ancient man, watching with glee as he turned around with wide eyes. “Locking me in the room seriously?”

“I didn’t think you’d catch up. I left hours ago.”

“I thought so too. But one of the Merchants gave me a shortcut to your destination.”

“Interesting.” He said, hand going to his chin in thought. 

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?!” 

“Interesting.” You mocked 

He stared blankly, without a doubt the gears working in his brain, spinning and ticking at an unbelievable rate. 

“No, one more thing... How did you get out of the room? I barricaded it.” 

👁 👄 👁

Scaramouche

you better be someone who can handle yourself, and you probably are, or else he would not be able to stand being with you romantically AT ALL

he’s had you practice with him, just to show him what you’re capable of, before he ever allowed you to travel with him

after deeming you a worthy opponent, he decided you would fair well with him

he would’ve never allowed you to come if he knew you’d be a burden, slow him, or get hurt

after you proved yourself, he does not doubt you so he’s not going to be worried at all

he’s only worried if you start slowing him down, then he’ll think you’re incompetent to be traveling together

if you slow him down, you’re being sent home, no questions asked

though because he does love you, you receive a bit of a less severe punishment for doing something wrong on a mission

he may ask you once or twice to keep up with him, or take your enemies out without less hesitation, but that’s if he feels particularly generous, most of the times he’s harsh and will not tolerate your mistakes, no chances given

fortunately for you, he felt extremely generous today

It was truly evident that you were slowly pissing off the sixth Harbinger and he was losing his patience with you. Yet you continued flirting with him to get a rise out of said man (yeah, same); he often reacted, and you enjoyed it when he did. You liked seeing him react and appear differently than always being so uptight and mean.

It was a common belief that he often traveled with a young woman, who had Pyro for a vision, and she was strong but often loved to distract and tease her fellow Harbinger. You were not so surprisingly, that young woman.

“Keep up, I won’t ask you again.” 

Today, you were on a mission together which wasn’t rare, but your other mission was to piss him off as much as you could. So, you purposely walked behind him, very slow. Pretending to take in the chilly scenery of Snezhnaya, although you had seen it thousands of times, acting as if it was something new. 

“You said that the last two times.” You said, cheerfully laughing to yourself when you heard him growl lowly. He didn’t pay any mind to your retort but began showing more signs that he was aggravated.

He hissed, “There’s not much to admire, you can barely see.” Yes, he was right, he’d caught onto your antics very fast, but that didn’t matter.

“As I said, if you keep slowing me down, I’ll continue without you.” Your eyes rolled. Would he?

“Leaving a member of the Harbinger behind wouldn’t be very honorary, but if I must, I will.”

A pout took shape on your lips. “Please, you wouldn’t leave your lovely girlfriend out here to freeze would you?”

“You have pyro abilities, you would fair just fine.”

“Hmm... I suppose so, but I’d get lonely.” 

“Then be quiet and walk faster.”

1.13.21, rayofsunas

[deepdonutkid]

Kismet

Requested: No

Paring: Shelby!Sister Reader x Isaiah

Words: 5624

Summary: For a year now, you had a secret relationship with Isaiah and even when he is still in the same room with you, you can’t stop feeling lonely. It’s not that you don’t love him anymore, it more about the weight of the secret you have to carry. But with Tommy as you big brother you can’t risk, telling the truth or your man might get shot.

Note:

I was in the mood for a Shelby!Sister reader x Isaiah and it turned out to be way longer than I expected it... and I even cut out dialog... So here it is!

It’s also flavored with Junior Peaky Boys fun at the beginning. And I was inspired by my homegirl’s one shot called star and my story is an addition to hers, it’s the same night, but Bonnie has some other adventures than the reader and Isaiah.

Somehow I feel like everybody is a little ooc, but I couldn’t correct it.

Requests and tag list are still open, feel free to dm me or send me an ask.

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl​ @justalonelyslytherin​ @theshelbyclan​ 

Warning: swear words, drinking, binge drinking, gambling, a hinted smut and a sweet ending

It was one of those nights, nothing special, just the usual fellows around the same table in the Garrison.  You had fun nevertheless. All your friends were right there, you had enough to drink and you had a luck hand today. The cards seemed to work in your fortune.

Deviously smiling you revealed your hand. You just had won this round and it gave you unholy amounts of satisfactions. “Ha”, you cheered: “Suck it up.”

Your friend shrugged and shoved his coins in your direction. All he said was a very grumpy “There you go”, but it pleased you.

You took the money and peaked around the corner. Where was Michael with the drinks? He was like a brother to you, but he was just your cousin. Maybe it was because you were born just two months before his older sister, Anna. Even though, she was gone Michael came back to his real family and now you were closer than ever. You cared for him, more than your siblings did.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t hit him, if he just left the bar to fuck with some random girl. It was not about him having sex, more about leaving without telling anybody. Especially when he was supposed to get drinks for the table. You moaned and said: “Where is Michael?”

“Probably doing somebody”, Isaiah joked and lit a cigarette. Then he offered you one and you took it gladly. Actually, you bit your lip and gave him the side-eye, but you had to hide your smile in front of the others. Bonnie and Finny weren’t the smartest boys in Small Heath, but you wouldn’t risk it.

You had so much fun with Isaiah that you didn’t even know when it started. Months passed by, while you were completely caught up in your little game with him. Nobody knew it. That was mainly Isaiah’s fault. At first it amused you to keep your relationship with him secret, but now you were ready to tell your family about it. Your boyfriend didn’t like the idea.

Somehow you thought Michael started to notice. He gave you the glace, which said: “I know, dear”, but maybe you were just getting crazy. You just had to be more careful around others now and everything was fine.

The night was still young and you were keen to make Bonnie lose all his money today. He had won the boxing match earlier and the bruises were still visible, but unfortunately for him, he couldn’t win against you. It was just a card game, but it filled you with gleeful joy. This and the fact that Isaiah was sitting next to you. Sometimes he would brush your thigh with his fingers, which made you giggle even more.

“There he is”, yelled Finny while being so fucking drunk, like you never had seen him before. Michael arrived with messy hair and his tie was undone, but he had your drink and that was all that you care for. “Finally”, you fluted and ripped the glass of his hand: “Thank you, babe.”

And the whiskey was still cold, which meant he fucked the girl first and ordered the drinks afterwards. “How was she? Good?” you asked before you took a sip from your whiskey. You weren’t a lightweight when it came to drinking, maybe not as well as Arthur and John, but you could tolerate much more than Ada and Finny. Your little brother was so drunk, he looked like his head was all empty and yet filled with bullshit.

Michael sat down next to you and answered: “Mhh, she was okay, but she talked too much.” Then you felt the weight of a hand on your thigh again. A shiver rushed down your spine, but it was the wrong side. Your cousin had put his hand on your knee. “Everything alright, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Yeah, everything is perfect”, you blabbered hoping he wouldn’t keep asking questions, but he did. “Don’t be so worried, every time I’m with a girl. I know you’re still a virgin, but you can get some too. Tommy wouldn’t be against it.”

How wonderfully wrong he was. Neither were you a virgin nor would Tommy be okay with this. After all, you were his little sister and he wouldn’t accept the guy, you were sleeping with. Of course, Isaiah was a friend of the family, but after the whole thing with Ada and Freddie you had something to worry about.

The best snarky comeback was right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it without letting something slip. ‘What gives you the idea I’m still a virgin?’ And yet you were silent as the guy who fucked you, sat right next to you. You felt trapped and decided to go straight forward. “Yes, he would. You know it and everybody in Small Heath knows it.”

“Oh whatever”, Michael mumbled: “Just drink enough and you eventually forget about it.”

You grinned and emptied your drink. “Fuck it, let’s play some cards. I’m not done with Mr. Gold over here.”  Then you took the cards and dealt them to start the next round.

Much later that night when you brought Finn back home and went straight back to the pub, in front of the entrance, you stumbled into Bonnie. “Is there a reason why you’re smirking?” you asked him. He was gleaming red and smiling like an idiot.

Then you remembered. “The singer, right?” Bonnie nodded and his grin got even wider. “You talked to her?” Again he gave you a silent answer. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. He was a lot heavier than you thought, but then again, you were just a girl and he was a boxer.

Sometime it was weird to only have male friends, it just happened. Maybe it was because of your brothers. Maybe that’s why you never acted like a proper girl. Of course you felt like a woman and you liked your body, but in your eyes it was so much easier to talk to guys.

“Eyy, where did you found him?” Michael slurred and helped you to put your friend on a chair again. With your hands finally free you had the chance to explain. “Found him outside. I don’t know what he did there, but he talked to the singer.”

Both, Isiah and Michael nodded. It was only logical for Bonnie to freak out after it talking to her. He was there every Friday night looking for the singer and now his brain seemed to melt, just because she said something to him. But neither of you knew, what she said exactly. Maybe this was a problem for another night. It didn’t look like Bonnie was able to answer.

So you ordered some more drinks and sat back down again. In this separate room, which was reserved for your family, it was almost too tempting to get close to your boyfriend again. Isiah looked so good that night and it hurt to be unable to touch him… or to kiss him. But you would be satisfied with just holding his hand now.

It was a curse; you knew it soon after you realized that you loved him. He was handsome, charming and a loyal friend. There was no better man for you, even though you wished you could be together in public. And again you bit your lip and moved your chair away from him.

But you couldn’t think about this anymore, it was too frustrating and luckily somebody else caught your attention. It was Bonnie who mumbled very quietly: “I think she kissed me, but it could be a dream as well. It felt so surreal.”  You padded his shoulder and nodded to underline your compassion.

It was just the same with Isaiah. Whenever you two were alone, it was amazing and beautiful. He was so soft and romantic and he just made you happy. But every time you woke up and he was gone, the sweet scenery shattered. And out in public it was getting annoying to find excuses to be with him or getting away, so you could spend some time alone with him and you had to lie to your whole family about your whereabouts. Slowly it became exhausting.

There was nothing you could do about it, so you just drank your whiskey and talked with the boys about Bonnie’s singer and the girl Michael had. It was so easy for them to display their relationship in the public, but of course you didn’t have this privilege as a girl. Apparently, you needed to be protected. Or so it has been explained to you. You wasn’t concerned for your safety but for your freedom. Tommy said it was his job as your big brother to care for you, even if it felt like he was controlling you. You have always been the wild one among your siblings and everything was fine, until your mum died and your dad left. Then Tommy was in charge and sometimes his opinions would vary from yours, which led to fights. And yet you feared what he might do, if he found out about your secret.

All the sudden Bonnie fell from his chair and you groaned. Now somebody had to bring him home as well. First Finn and now him… but why they couldn’t take the whiskey today? You weren’t nearly as drunk as them, but still.

Isaiah stood up and picked his friend up. “I’m taking him home. I’ll be right back”, he said, before leaving.

Now Michael and you were alone. It wasn’t what you wanted. The only thing you could think of was smooching the sweet lips of your boyfriend. You were caught up in your little fantasy, when your cousin woke you up again. “Isaiah is acting weird lately.”

“Oh… really? I didn’t notice”, you replied: “He seemed normal to me.” Your hand grabbed the fringe of your dress. Talking about him made you nervous.

Michael moaned and fumbled for his cigarettes. He put them out, you took one and he turned his between his fingers, when he added: “I don’t know, maybe I’m getting paranoid, but I think he is hiding something from us.” Then he lit his cigarette and took a drag from it.

You inhaled sharply and stared into the void for a second, before answering: “Don’t be silly, he is just as loyal as ever.” Then you laughed and Michael joined in. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just needed to get this off my chest.”

The rest of the conversation went just like usual. You chatted, you bickered and you had fun. While the bell already announced the new day, Isaiah came back.

In this tiny glimpse of a moment you couldn’t hide your smile and he reciprocated. Actually, you were just waiting for Michael to leave now. It was your plan all along, but patience has never been your strong suit.

It took three more rounds for Michael to say goodnight. “Take care of her, will you?” Isaiah nodded. When Michael finally grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, you felt unbelievably excited. Your fingertips slapped a melody on the table, while you watched him leaving. The door shut and now you had what you longed for all night.

You turned around and looked at him. Gosh, waiting felt like an eternity. Now you were the one smiling like an idiot. Slowly Isaiah came closer and his hand pulled you to him for a kiss. “Finally”, you whispered against his lips, before giving him what he wanted.

After you two parted you rested your head on his shoulder. Now you were getting tired as well, but you didn’t want to go to your bed. “I was waiting the whole evening for this”, he moaned and stroked your hair.

The smell of his perfume made you realized how much you missed him too, even though he was with you since you went to Garrison tonight. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him to give him a tight squeeze. Then you signed: “I wish we didn’t have to hide” and buried your face in his shirt.

“Babe”, he replied: “We already had this conversation. It wouldn’t end well. Let’s just enjoy what we have as long as we can.” It hurt, but Isaiah was right. There was no chance Tommy was getting you off the hook, once he knew about it. And no matter how you explained it to him, he would still be against it. You were too young for stuff like that, as if he didn’t fucked Greta, when he was the same age.

You leaned back to see his beautiful face again. There was something in his eyes, a twinkle or something like that, but it always made you feel comfortable. A lick of your lip was enough to purpose the idea of doing something nasty. He knew you since you were children and it was like he could read your thoughts, especially the dirty ones.

Isaiah started giggling and asked: “Hey, babe, I still can cheer you up, right?”

Maybe it was time for some fun, different to the fun you had before with your friends. The word pleasure would describe it well and with his knowing look he gave you so many ideas. You laughed and nodded. “I think it might help when you do the thing with your tongue.”

“Oh”, he responded amused: “Like this?” And then grabbed you for a kiss and god, what a kiss it was. His tongue brushed your upper lip just to enter your mouth and explore it as if it was your first kiss. He even bit your lip playfully and kept going until you couldn’t breathe no more. Your knees started shaking and it was needless to say, he was the best kisser you ever had.

It took you a while to catch a breath again, but then you answered: “Yeah, just like this… But maybe we could go to your place and do a little more?”

He didn’t seem to be so sure about this suggestion. His thumb stroked your shoulder as he held you in his arm. Because he was so quiet for a second, you knew, he thought about this backwards and forwards. “But right when the sun comes up, you have to go back home”, he argued.

Again, Isaiah was right. You should take too many risks. Otherwise you might get caught and neither of you wanted that. All you could do was to shrug and agree: “Just don’t shoo me after we fucked.” There was bitterness in your voice. What wouldn’t you give to wake up next to him every morning?

The pub was almost empty, when you left. You couldn’t hold his hand on the way out. Everybody in Small Heath was Tommy’s spy. Back on the streets a cold wind blew. Now you had an excuse to go near him and he shared his coat with you. Isaiah was always so sweet and caring. You knew you wanted to spend your future with him. There was no other man and you wouldn’t get over him, not now and not in five years.

You even took off your shoes before entering the Jesus household and followed him on your tiptoes to his room. It was completely dark in the house and the silence was haunting, but good for you, you knew the way by now. The excitement made your fingers tremble.

Finally you arrived where you wanted to be the whole day, in his room. Isaiah closed the door as quietly as possible and started smiling. You walked up to him and started to unbutton his shirt. Now you didn’t want to waste any time.

And neither did Isaiah. He was ripping down your dress, which only worked because the straps were so thin. His hands were all over your body and you couldn’t stop kissing every inch of his skin. It felt like magic whenever he touched you. You moaned, when he played with your bare breasts. To silence you he put his thumb on your lips, which you took as an invitation to suck it. Maybe it was mean to tease him like that, but you were desperate for his affection.

An hour later you laid next to him, your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. “You should leave, before we both fall asleep, babe”, he whispered, which caused you to sign. Leaving now was draining, even exhausting. After this wonderful sex, you were too tired to move anywhere, not to the bathroom and certainly not back to your cold bed.

You pouted your lips and tilted your head, so you could give him your puppy eyes and a pretty please with cream and a cherry on top. “Just ten more minutes. Your bed is way comfier than mine.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “That’s just because I’m in this bed and you like to use me as your personal giant pillow.” Your fingers hovered about his belly. Even though his muscles weren’t tense now, you could still feel the strength lying beneath his skin.

While your index finger drew circles around his bellybutton, you whined: “Maybe… just maybe that is true, but I still want to lay here for a bit. Otherwise I start to feel like a whore, who only comes for sex and leaves silently afterwards.”  It wasn’t a knock against Lizzie or her job, but you didn’t like the feeling, when you got home and had to find sleep in your own bed. Even though you had a relationship with him, you still felt lonely. Especially when the sun was rising and nobody was by your side.

“You’re not a whore and you know that”, he argued looking a little concerned.

Then you turned on your back and stared at the ceiling. “No, I’m a Shelby and that is probably worse”, you scoffed.

Now Isaiah was silent and had no witty comeback for that. Maybe, because it was true. If you weren’t part of the family, you could be with anyone, whoever you wanted. Carrying the name Shelby was the only reason, why you had to hide your relationship with Isaiah.

After a while he mumbled: “Okay, stay for a while, but you should be back before they open the shop.” By that time you were already half asleep and yet his words made you smile. He wrapped his arms around you, the little spoon and purred like a cat. Just in this position the both of you fell asleep.

Loud steps were coming near the door, but they wouldn’t wake you up. The screaming of Isaiah’s name did. It was a familiar voice and it took you a couple of minutes to notice, it was your brother Finn who shouted and ran down the hall. Suddenly you were wide awake. You startled up and looked around the room. The sun was already up and shining through the window. Then you saw Isaiah, who was just as frightened as you were.

If Finn came rushing through that door, your secret relationship was no longer secret. “I locked the door last night”, he whispered, which was relieving to you, but still no perfect solution for this problem.

Now Finn arrived at the other side of the door and was knocking on it like crazy. “Isaiah, wake up! Y/N is gone. Nobody can find her and Michael said you were the last one with her in the bar”, your brother yelled. You could hear the panic in his voice, but you couldn’t get caught. Not now.

You stumbled out of the bed and collected your clothes, when you heard Isaiah ask: “What are you going to do? You can’t go out there. He will find out.” And you knew your boyfriend wasn’t concerned about Finn, more about Tommy.

The tension in the room was immense. You had to come up with a plan or your brothers would shoot your lover in front of your eyes.

Suddenly you knew what to do. You pushed the pile of clothing to your chest and squeeze it thigh, when you explained in a lower tone: “I’m gonna hide in the wardrobe and then you open the door and go with Finn away. Afterwards I can come out and then I go to the betting shop and tell the others I have fallen asleep on a bench or something.” It was not the best plan, but yet your only option.

Isaiah nodded and you climbed into the cabinet where he stored his shirt and jackets. The second you entered the small wooden space, you knew it was all going down. Call it intuition, call it divination, call it whatever power Polly owned, but you felt it rushing through your body. He closed the door behind you and then you could hear him stumble into his pants.

Only half clothed he unlocked the door to let Finn in. Isaiah was still sleepy. He wasn’t the morning type of person and before he hadn’t had his breakfast he wasn’t really available. Finn strode up and down. You heard is nervous steps. “Everybody is freaking out right now. Polly thinks somebody kidnapped her or worse. I mean, she has always been unratable in her doings, but this time my sister is really going of the edge. It’s already past lunch and nobody has seen her”, Finn explained: “This morning her bed was empty and I thought I shouldn’t worry, but now I’m afraid I should have said something sooner.”

The cabinet was very uncomfortable and yet you tried not to move or to make a noise, which would cause Finn’s attention. However, being in Isaiah’s position didn’t seem to be pleasant as well. He had to lie to his best friend about the whereabouts of his missing sister, knowing she was sitting right here. Isaiah patted his friends shoulder and said nothing.

Finn didn’t calm down and seemed to be upset, Isaiah wasn’t panicking like him. “C’mon, get dressed. We have to look for her. She might be lying somewhere in the dirt. We shouldn’t waste even more time, standing around.” Then he walked to the closet and opened just the door where you had been hiding.

Butt-naked you fell down to the floor and looked up to your younger brother, who had the same face expression as the one time you told him where the babies were coming from. Some when later you would look back at this moment and would have a good laugh about this, but right now it felt like your world was collapsing.

He should have seen you like this and it took you a whole minute to gather the mental energy to get back up at your feet and greet him like it was the normal thing to do in a situation like this. “Hey, Finny, there I am.”

Your brother froze mid movement and stared at you as if you were the first pink elephant the world has seen or a bear riding a bike. Then he broke the silence. “What?”, he winced. There was no anger in his voice, just total confusion.

Finn looked to Isaiah and then back to you. “You screwed my sister?!”

There was no answer to this question.

“How long?” Finn asked: “How long did you hide that from me?”

You glared over to you boyfriend as if you were asking him for permission to say something. Isaiah signed and nodded. There was no point in denying this anymore. It was over.

Now you had to tell the truth. “A couple of months, maybe a year or so”, you croaked and your voice sounded strange. Like it was not your own and even though you dreamt about finally opening up, it shouldn’t have been like this.

Your brother yelled: “A year?! A whole fucking year? Damn, I should be proud because apparently you two are excellent liars with no moral issues… you two deserve each other.” You heard the disgust and disappointment, when he spoke and it broke your heart. Back then, when the whole thing started you though he might be the only one of your brothers to understand you. How wonderfully wrong you were.

“No”, you said under your breath: “Don’t fucking do this to me. I would have told you, if you wouldn’t have run straight to Tommy after you knew. Everybody knows you can’t keep a secret. So don’t act like it was my fault or my mistake, because it’s not. I would have gladly told everybody, I’m like him very much, but you and Tommy and Arthur and John made it impossible for me to even talk with a guy who is not part of the gang. You can’t turn this around and act like you are the victim in all this.”

It was time for you to stand up for yourself and your decisions… and time for you to get dressed. You didn’t seem as responsible as you were when you were still naked and in front of the closed you have been hiding in. Now you knew how wrong it was to lie and hide your relationship, because it wasn’t their concern. It was your life, your body and your choice. Nobody could take that from you and certainly not your brothers. You weren’t afraid of them. All your life you saw how your brothers treated women and you said nothing about it, but this should change right now.

So you stood there, furious and filled with rage, put on your dress and your shoes and said one last thing, before leaving: “This madness has to end.”

You stormed out of the room- not caring for Isaiah or Finn- and heading for the King of Small Heath to throw him out of his high throne. Your hair was a nest and you smelled like a bar after a dirty old night, when you entered the betting shop. Nobody was there, just the regular family members.

Everybody seemed to be relieved to see you again and then came close to hug you. Ada was right next to the door and the first to greet you. “Oh my god, you’re back, sweetie”, she muttered.

Next was Polly who examined your appearance for cuts and other injuries. Of course you had none, besides the hickeys Isaiah gave you. She tried to take a closer look of your neck, but you pulled away, which caused her to ask: “What happened? Where were you all night?”

Now Tommy was coming up to you. His steps were slow, but fierce and the glare in his eyes was pinching. “Just from the smell I would guess, she was with a guy this night”, he scoffed: “She probably had a lot of fun, but now she should say, who that guy was, so we can take actions.” You knew he was addressing you, even though he didn’t phrase it like that.

“I don’t think, this is your business”, you replied with a grin on your face. You wouldn’t back down. Not this time. “But yes, I was with a guy tonight. So you don’t need to worry. I’m completely fine.”

Your older brother led out a little laugh, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Well, well, well, I don’t care what you think. I’m your brother and it’s my job to make sure you’re safe”, he explained: “And now you tell me who he was.” Ah, past tense, a hint of what was going to happen.

You crossed your arms and tiled your head to give him a dismissive look. “Who said it was your job?” was your comeback, but your brother wasn’t remotely impressed. Neither of you would let the other win. You were too stubborn for this gesture of insight.

Others, including Arthur and John, were somehow intimidated by Tommy’s behavior, but not you. Actually, you learned too much from him to take his shit.  He taught you to help your head up high and how to outsmart your enemies.  Now you could use the same strategies against him.

“Ever since our father left and mom died, you act like you are in charge, but you’re not. We are your siblings, not your pawn, waiting for your command”, you hissed: “I have my own life and I make my own decisions and who I meet shouldn’t concern you.” Slowly your anger grew. It was a boiling feeling in your gut, like you were fueled with fire.

Tommy was getting gleaming red. You had hit the right spot and you knew you would hurt him with your words, but otherwise he wouldn’t understand. The words were stuck in his throat as he killed you with his looks.

Patiently, you waited for his answer. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, but silencing your brother was the best thing ever, since he was the reason why you felt miserable lately. “No comeback? No arguments, dear?” You loved to poke his wounds and you did it with a huge smile on your face.

“As if you would listen to me… You even said it yourself. You wouldn’t take my advice”, he responded and bid his lip. “But I don’t need to talk to you to teach you a lesson. You’re too young to fuck around town and I’m going to find the bastard who did this and kill him.”

The door was opened behind you and soon Finn entered the room. You gave your little brother the death glare you were known for. He shouldn’t get the idea he was allowed to talk about what he found out.

You should be raging right now, but all you could do was laugh. His empty threats weren’t as daunting as he thought. With nothing but spite you whistled: “I would love to see you try. I kept this a secret for over a year now and you noticed nothing. And now I can wait another year for you to find him… or I could run away… whatever you prefer.”

Now you’re pushing your luck. Finn could ruin everything, if he just said one wrong word. The palms of your hands were sweaty. It was a dangerous game you played there, but it was not like you could back out of it now. This was road of no return.

Tommy seemed to be more surprised than fuming, when he asked: “You slept with some geezers for a year now?” He respected your talent to keep it under the radar. Everybody who could shirk his rules deserved acknowledgement for putting up with this risk. Maybe he was finally realizing how much you had grown. You weren’t his little kitten anymore.

“No, not geezers, just one guy”, you corrected him: “But yes, that is true.”

You watched Tommy as he walked around the table, heading for the whiskey, while he nodded understandingly. “Mh, so you would say it’s love?”

A sign came from your lips. You already knew the answer, but you weren’t so sure, if you should say this out loud. After all, you didn’t even have a proper talk about this with Isaiah. Silence was filling the room, while you calculated your risks. If you said, you loved him and Isaiah wasn’t as serious about the relationship, you would look like an idiot. Good for you, he didn’t come to the betting shop to witness the fight between you and your brother. Finally you decided to tell everybody: “Yes, I do.”

“Good”, Tommy mumbled while he poured his whiskey: “Then you should have my blessing. Just give us the name now.” He took a sip and seemed to be amused by your embarrassment.

Talking about Isaiah, while he wasn’t present, was weird, but you knew why he stayed in the comfort of his own room. You weren’t mad at him for not running after you. This was your fight and not his. And after all your brothers were a little scary, when it comes to stuff like this.

But you had Tommy’s word now and nothing should happen to your man. You shrugged and rolled with your eyes. The fuss they made about this was still annoying.

Ada patted your shoulder and encouraged you to speak. “Do we know him?” The answer was yes, but it was also the reason, why you struggled to say it out loud.

Even John chimed in and kept pushing: “Yeah, what’s up with this fella?” He was smiling to let you know the mood had changed. Nobody was against you anymore.

“It’s…”, you started and fumbled for the seam of your dress: “It’s Isaiah.”

At first it was dead silence, while the others processed the information, then Arthur and John burst out in laughter. Finn seemed to be relieved, because he would have hated it to keep a secret like this. Your older sister was hugging you a little too tight and even Polly was smiling.

Tommy had a smug on his face when he muttered: “If that’s the case, then you should have your happiness.”

“Isaiah is a fine fella. You will be alright”, hummed Arthur. Apparently everybody was happy with your choice. You just had to stand up for yourself.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders and then you could laugh about it too. But suddenly you remember that Isaiah was still waiting for his death in his room. “I should go and let him of the hook”, you fluted and already went to the door when you heard Tommy said: “Don’t get pregnant or he has to marry you.”

[out-of-jams]

War & Peace || jhs

↠ War & Peace ↞ “Your rivalry with Jung Hoseok first began at the tender age of five, right after you’d beamed a cardboard box of crayons straight at his forehead. He’d bled and it’d later left behind a thin scar that sliced clean through his right eyebrow. You should’ve felt guilty, but you hadn’t. Still didn’t.

He’d had it coming for trying to Compel you to hand them over anyway. And technically, you did hand them over. Just not in the way he’d probably wanted. At least, that was what you’d told the teacher after Hoseok had growled wildly at you from across the playroom table.

But you know what they say; all’s fair in love and war.”

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 9.9k

Warnings/Genre: Alpha!Hoseok. Omega!Reader. Enemies to lovers. ABO dynamics. Explicit language. Fluff.Slight angst. Cliché spin-the-bottle scene. Pining. They’re both annoying idiots. Competition au(?). Bad puns. Cliche Jackson throwing a party (a party ain’t a party if it ain’t a Jackson Wang party).

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not.

The room was abuzz.

You paused where you stood at the entrance to the Four Seasons’ Hotel ballroom. Fingers tightening around the small, black clutch bag in your hand, you let your eyes rove over expensive dresses and suits and quaffed hair and curls. At least the spaghetti strap, two piece off-white dress your mother had bought (and forced you to wear) fit the occasion quite well, so your inherent fear of accidentally standing out wouldn’t come to fruition.

Whoever had decorated the ballroom had pulled out all the stops. There were miniature chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, lights turned to a dim setting. Small-yet-cosy circular tables were spread out evenly, chairs for two either occupied or emptied. A man in a catering ensemble approached you, extending his tray of bubbly champagne. Normally you wouldn’t put alcohol of any kind into your body, but you’d make an exception just that once. You took one with a smile of thanks and swallowed a mouthful in an attempt to chase away your nerves.

When your parents had first approached you about attending the matchmaking event, you’d been wary. The events themselves weren’t rare; young adults who had yet to find a mate would go to them. They had a ninety-nine percent success rate when it came to matching you. However, you found the whole thing to be quite archaic.

It wasn’t that you were against love or finding a mate or anything like that, you just didn’t think that attaching yourself to another person for life should be so significant. You’d been too busy during college getting your degree to date anyone seriously. And you’d never felt the desire to, hadn’t needed to.

As an Omega, you were the lowest tier in the societal hierarchy. And as an unmated Omega, you were a rare commodity. It was expected for an Omega to be mated before they even reached their twenties. Something about needing to be taken care of or some other bullshit that you disagreed with. You could take perfectly good care of yourself.

But when you’d come home mateless after graduation to visit your parents before trying to find a job with your degree, they’d been concerned. Your mother, a fellow Omega, had sat you down and forced you to fill out the overly long, three hundred questionnaire for the matchmaking service. Of course, you’d rolled your eyes, but ended up relenting. You’d decided that you’d just go to the damn event, let the mysterious matchmakers do their thing, give some excuse to leave sometime in the middle of the thing, and then go home and tell your parents that you’d tried.

You should’ve known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

Glancing down at the dark red card the size of your palm that the woman manning the check-in desk had given you, you memorized the two numbers printed on it. As if you hadn’t looked at it a few dozen times already. Just in case. You didn’t want to be there, but you weren’t about to somehow accidentally embarrass yourself either.

The flared, lace skirt of your dress brushed against your legs while you made your way through the room, eyes scanning the number placards on the table in search of your own. Some of them already had couples sitting at them, engaged in conversation and hiding shy smiles behind dainty hands. Your heels click-clacked against the shiny marble flooring as you weaved between others who were still finding their seats.

Eight, nine, ten, you mentally counted in your head, passing by the white-clothed tables. Eleven.

Your feet halted and you glanced down at your card one last time before looking up. Table twelve was already occupied, leaving a single seat left.

“Wow,” you murmured through red painted lips. He looked up at the sound of your voice, soulfully deep brown irises alighting on your form. Dark hair parted perfectly to reveal the smooth, tan skin of his forehead curled above a single one of those eyes. Heart-shaped lips that appeared soft to the touch parted in surprise. “I know you almost failed fifth grade math, but I didn’t think you were still this bad at counting.”

"I—what are you doing here?” Jung Hoseok looked so utterly bewildered that it would’ve been endearing if it had been anyone but him. He subconsciously smoothed a ringed hand down the front of his midnight black satin tux and stared at you like he’d never seen you before.

“What are you doing here?” You avoided answering his question with a raised eyebrow.

“What does it look like I’m doing here?”

“It looks like you’re sitting at my table,” you gestured at the aforementioned seat with your flute of champagne.

“No, I’m sitting at my table.” Hoseok tilted his head, sharp jawline standing out and tiny dimples revealing themselves as he pursed his mouth. “It’s not my fault that you can’t read.”

“Excuse me?” A sound of indignation sprang from the back of your throat and you dropped your clutch on the table in order to flip around the tiny card in your hand. The number twelve was embedded on it in swirling, looping gold font. “Now move.”

He did not, in fact, move. He just sat there like an impressive impersonation of a statue. The only part of him that moved was when those espresso hued eyes of his widened in either surprise or shock, you didn’t know. Nor did you care. Or at least you hadn’t until he slowly lifted a hand to show you his own card with the number twelve printed on it.

And then you too, did the best performance you could muster at being frozen solid. As if the universe was attempting to prove that the two of you had, in fact, been matched together, your voices harmonized as you spoke at the same exact time:

“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me.”

                  (Seventeen years ago)

Your rivalry with Jung Hoseok first began at the tender age of five, right after you’d beamed a cardboard box of crayons straight at his forehead. He’d bled, and it’d later left behind a thin scar that sliced clean through his right eyebrow. You should’ve felt guilty, but you hadn’t. Still didn’t.

He’d had it coming for trying to Compel you to hand them over anyway. And technically, you did hand them over. Just not in the way he’d probably wanted. At least, that’s what you’d told the teacher after Hoseok growled wildly at you from across the playroom table.

The kindergarten classroom had been packed with screaming, rambunctious toddlers. It was an important time in every child’s life — not because that was the age where friendships first began; it was when nature started to reveal itself. When the part of the brain in charge of scent glands that separated the Alphas from the Betas from the Omegas developed.

You’d been relegated to one of the tables in the corner with all the rest of the soft, floral smelling, shy Omegas. Until the green colored crayon you’d been using to smear across your paper in an attempt at drawing the vast forest outside ran out. The closest resupply of your writing instrument had been lying all the way across the room on one of the empty tables.

Of course, because fate was nothing but a bitch, your quick hands snatched the crayon box up point-two seconds before a pouting Jung Hoseok could. He’d looked at you with those gentle, chocolate brown eyes of his, and then the first words he’d ever spoken to you passed his heart shaped lips.

“Hey, give it!”

And yours to him. “No way! I got them first, loser!”

The rounded apples of his cheeks puffed up with a scowl, jaw clenched. If he’d been taller than you, maybe he would’ve been intimidating. But to you, he’d just looked like a fluffed up chicken.

“Well, you’re an Omega and I’m an Alpha, so you gotta do what I say,” his tongue fumbled over the larger words and he crossed his arms over his chest with a look that told you he thought he’d just won the battle.

“Make me,” scoffing, you leveled him with a glare and waved the box of crayons under his perfectly straight nose.

“Fine.” His eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath. “Give them.” His dark irises flashed gold as he laced his words with the power of an Alpha Command.

If he were older and had more of a grip over his powers, perhaps you would’ve felt compelled. But the only thing that overcame you was annoyance. Your fingers tightened around the box; your arm cocked back. “Fine.”

And it went careening straight into his forehead with a crack! that had all heads in the room turning to look back. Sticking your nose in the air, you slipped your stolen green crayon into your dress pocket and skipped back to your table.

That was when your rivalry first started.

And the war began.

Eleven years later and the whole town knew of your blatant dislike for one another. It was difficult not to when the moment the two of you entered the same room, you were immediately at each other’s throats. Some of the older, more set-in-their-ways Alphas frowned upon your rivalry with Jung Hoseok. Though they were more annoyed at the fact that he never used his Alpha Compulsion to “put his mouthy Omega in her place” than anything else.

His. Hearing them call you his never failed to absolutely infuriate you. Like you were nothing other than a piece of property. Like you belonged to the one person in the world who you despised the most. Like you could belong to anyone at all.

Omegas were supposed to cow to Betas, and above all, Alphas. The hierarchy had been around since the beginning of time. Since Alphrina, the goddess of all mankind, had created the first Alpha in her image. They were the strongest of the Three, Betas coming in second and Omegas last.

If Hoseok had been like any other Alpha, then he probably would’ve long since made you submit to him. But he never had. Lisa, your childhood best friend and the town’s most popular female Alpha, had theorized that maybe he just didn’t know how to use his Alpha powers. But you knew better. His pride would never recover if he’d been forced to Compel you into listening to him.

Not even after you’d paid Jeon Jungkook a hefty sum to switch Hoseok’s shampoo bottle during the football team’s after practice shower with a similar one you’d filled with green hair dye back in high school. He’d stormed up to your locker the next day, cheeks aflame with rage and jaw clenched while he spat out (true) accusations.

But he’d had no proof that you’d been the one to make him look like a very festive Christmas tree, what with the already bright red strands of his hair stained with streaks of green. You’d thoroughly made sure that Jungkook would do it while the team was actually showering, so the soap and hot water would wash away any lingering scent of the culprit.

Hoseok had gotten you back, of course, by sticking a huge glob of chewing gum in your hair after you’d fallen asleep on your desk during history class. You’d cried for two days straight after your mom had to chop off your long locks into a shoulder length bob. And the cycle repeated itself with you taking revenge by stealing the janitor’s keys after school, and hiding a dead fish in Hoseok’s locker to decompose over the two week long Christmas break.

At least your rivalry had stopped anyone else from trying to mess with you due to your Omega status. Either they’d been too afraid of stepping on Hoseok’s toes, or had just been way too entertained by your antics, you weren’t sure. But you weren’t complaining, not when you saw how the other Omega’s in your school had been treated.

It hadn’t been good.

At all.

Suffice to say, maybe you would be somewhat grateful for Hoseok if you didn’t despise his existence so much.

You blamed your last weekend of your high school career for implanting the seed into your mind. For flip-turning your opinion of Jung Hoseok right upside down. Not that you’d exactly noticed it at first; it’d just kickstarted the slow sliver of doubt that began to fester.

Partying wasn’t usually your thing. You didn’t have anything against it, nor the people that chose to do so, you just refused to partake in anything that could alter your state of mind. Because being an Omega not in full control of yourself was a dangerous thing to be. But it was the end of mandated schooling and a very important milestone that deserved celebrating.

Which was the exact argument that Lisa had used in order to convince you to go with her and Jennie (a Beta and the most recent addition to your friend group) to the after graduation party. Jackson Wang’s house was unnecessarily massive, most likely due to both of his Alpha parents being on the city council. He’d somehow been able to convince them to take a weekend vacation and leave the estate in his (ir)responsible hands.

By the time you pulled up with both of your friends, the party was in full swing. Cars littered the curved driveway all the way down to the street below. (And seeing as how the Wang Estate was fifty acres, that was a long way down.) Music poured out from the opened front doors, heavy bass rattling the windows of Lisa’s Nissan.

You pressed your nose against the passenger side glass with a grimace. Fiddling with the overly tight dress that Jennie had forced you into, you sighed deeply.

“Oh, come on, Y/n, it’ll be fun,” Jennie leaned forward from the backseat to cheer encouragingly.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you argued and finally turned away from the steadily approaching mansion.

“You didn’t have to. You have that I-Don’t-Want-To-Be-Here face,” Lisa spoke up from the driver’s seat, eyes intently focused on finding a parking spot.

You snorted. “That’s because I don’t. Being surrounded by loud, drunk Alphas and Betas isn’t the most appealing way to spend my Friday night, thank you very much.”  

“We already told you that we’re going to watch out for you tonight.” Lisa made a noise in the back of her throat when she finally found somewhere to leave her vehicle.

“Exactly. Remember what happened last time some asshole Beta harassed you?”

“You mean the time Lisa almost got arrested when she fought that guy in the McDonald’s line?”

“Yup, that’s the one.”

“I’m still mad I never got my McDouble,” Lisa sighed forlornly and cut the engine to her car.

“All you think about is food,” Jennie laughed, quickly scrambling out of the car before Lisa could turn around and swat at her leg.

“Well, she’s not wrong.” The only thing that saved you from your best friend’s wrath was the fact that you were faster than she was.

Inside the house was just as you’d expected: crowded, loud, so many smells and sounds that had your heightened senses almost crying from overstimulation. You followed Jennie and Lisa to the kitchen for them to make themselves drinks (and to snatch up a can of soda for yourself).

Somehow, somehow, your night ended up with Lisa shoving her tongue down some poor Beta’s throat, and you stuck sitting in a circle in the basement of Jackson Wang’s overly large house. Playing a game of spin-the-bottle with a group of people that you barely knew. Well, most of them anyway.

And you hadn’t intended to play at all, hadn’t had any interest in it, but one look at your mortal enemy’s shit-eating grin sitting across from you had made you stop yourself right before you bowed out. Because you knew for a damn fact that if you’d tried, he would’ve ended up saying something to try and embarrass you.

So instead, you reached out and watched intently as the beer bottle spun around and around and around and around. The green hue of the glass gleamed beneath the dim, blue lights in the basement tauntingly. Everything slowed down, your heartbeat thundered in your eardrums, the music faded into the background. You thought it’d never stop.

Until it did.

A hush fell around the group as you sluggishly trailed your eyes upwards and locked them onto your apparent make-out partner. Fate was a bitch and your life was nothing but a cosmic joke. Because of course, of course, clichés wouldn’t be clichés if they weren’t clichés.

And god you hated clichés.

“Ew no,” slipped out of your mouth unhindered before you could even think to form the syllables.

Directly across the circle, Hoseok raised a perfectly shaped dark eyebrow. (You hated he looked so good even when his hair was such an obnoxious and unflattering shade of red.) That annoying, self-assured smirk tugged at the corner of his coral hued, heart-shaped mouth. “Afraid?”

Everyone around the circle had fallen silent, choosing to sit back and watch the drama unfold instead of talking over it. Like you were some kind of live entertainment, their heads bouncing back and forth between the two of you. So when you scoffed, it was loud enough that every ear could hear it.

“I’m not afraid, I just don’t want you touching me because you’ve slept with so many people. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

“Careful, you sound a little jealous there, L/n.” A second eyebrow jumped up to join the first and Hoseok leaned his weight forward. That insufferable smirk grew.

“Jealous?” Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “As if I’d ever be jealous of anything involving you, Jung.”

“It’s okay to admit it,” he shrugged casually. “If you ask me, I think it’s kind of flattering. Sad and a little pathetic, but flattering.”

“What would I possibly be jealous of? Didn’t you have an STD last month?” You shot back with an unamused snort.

He did that thing again where the apples of his cheeks puffed up and his mouth pursed. While that expression had made him appear very non-intimidating in the past, with puberty had come the sharpening of his jawline and the development of high cheekbones. Maybe if it were any other Alpha looking at you like that, your inner Omega would’ve been cowering. But witnessing someone pee their pants and then cry about it in the first grade tended to make it impossible to see them as menacing.

“That was just a rumor!” Hoseok glared, face beginning to pink beneath the stares of everyone in the room.

“That’s not what Sulgi said,” you hummed. “Yikes.”

“You—”

“As entertaining as this foreplay is to watch,” Jackson’s deep voice piped up, leaning back on his hands from where he sat between two girls you didn’t recognize. “I’d like to take my turn sometime tonight. So either kiss or go fight out in the parking lot, I don’t care.”

Hoseok’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, more than likely contemplating arguing with the party host (you knew he didn’t like being ordered around, especially by another Alpha), before a spark of mischievous amusement lit up his mocha colored irises and he turned back to you, head tilted. “I would love to move on, but L/n over here is too afraid to.”

Your lip curled. “I already told you that I—”

“Nervous then? I bet that you haven’t even been kissed before, have you?”

Even though he was correct, you refused to allow him to know it. So you’d never kissed someone before, who cared? People graduated high school all the time without locking lips with someone else. And it wasn’t like you’d never had the chance to—you’d had plenty of dating offers—you’d just never found any of them worthy enough to kiss. That was it.

Not that Jung Hoseok needed to know that.

So you lied.

“Of course I have.”

“Oh really.” It wasn’t a question. “Who?”

“That’s none of your business,” you sniffed.

Hoseok looked like a wolf right before it pounced on its prey: smug. “Then what’s the problem then? Afraid you’d like it?”

“Wow, I don’t know how you fit through the door with your ego as inflated as it is. Like I’d ever enjoy kissing you. It took Sulgi months to shut up about how bad you are at it.”

His haughty expression dropped from his face and his stare darkened at the blatant insult. You realized your mistake the very moment that the challenge sparked within his eyes. He stood slowly, gaze locked on your own as he stepped over the bottle in the middle of the floor. When he reached you, his hand shot down and grasped onto your upper arm, lifting you from your cross-legged seat and onto the soles of your shoes.

“Wha—” He cut off your indignant protest with his mouth before it could fully form.

The last thing you ever would have expected was for Jung Hoseok to kiss you, let alone softly. For his mouth to press against yours with just enough pressure to be labeled as delicate—like the tickling of butterfly wings. He trapped your bottom lip between both of his, slender fingers threading through the hair at the nape of your neck. You shouldn’t have let him touch the most sensitive part of your body. Shouldn’t have instinctively liked it.

Shouldn’t have let your eyes flutter closed and kissed him back. But you were too wrapped up in his strong scent, the warmth of his skin, the gentle exhaling of air as he breathed, the lingering taste of the alcohol from his emptied cup. One kiss turned into two, into three, into four. Until your hands came up to grasp the material of his shirt between your fingers.

Jung Hoseok kissed you like you’d always wanted to be kissed. Slowly and softly and warmly. When his tongue slipped between your lips and touched yours, it wasn’t with the roughness of someone trying to take control. It was a dance; one where he took the lead subtly and you willingly let him do it.

His hand on your arm found your waist and pulled you close, pressed your fronts together until there was no longer any space separating you. A sigh escaped when his tongue brushed against yours more firmly, more determined to have you melting and pliant beneath his touch. Until you had to swallow a whimper when he finally pulled away.

He didn’t go far, just enough to look at you down the slope of his straight nose, pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy and mouth kiss-swollen. You hated him then, in that moment, more than you ever had before. Hated him for stealing your first kiss. Hated him for making you want to lean forward and pull him back until you could no longer breathe. Hated him for dropping his hands from your heated skin with a wink and that knowing smirk of his.

Hated him.

The rest of the game had been a blur after that. You’d sat back down between Jennie (ignoring her imploring expression) and a Beta whom you couldn’t even process the face of. You didn’t spin again, had been content to just sit next to your friend and sip at your almost empty can of soda.

And you hated, hated, hated yourself for noticing that Hoseok never took another turn either.

                           (Present Time)

You’d been content with the fact that you’d never have to see your rival again after that night. With high school finally over, you would be going off to college on the other side of the country and would finally be free. To say that you’d been ecstatic would’ve been an understatement. There would be no more biting comments aimed at you in the hallway, no more having to be paranoid about being the victim of another of Hoseok and his friend’s pranks.

No more Hoseok.

It had been a glorious, stress-free (to an extent) four years of your life. Both Lisa and Jennie had applied to and been accepted to the same university as you, so you’d split the rent three ways and moved in together. City life had been a difficult adjustment, a culture shock, but now you were used to it and absolutely loved it.

Which meant that fate had to come around and fuck things up.

Silence had fallen between both you and Hoseok. All around you, couples sitting at the other tables in the expansive ballroom were jabbering away, getting to know one another to see how compatible they were. Laughter and glasses clinking harmonized together with the gentle music playing from the hotel speakers hidden somewhere you couldn’t see.

You’d collapsed bonelessly into your seat after the shock of being matchmade with your mortal enemy wore off. Now you were just annoyed. At your parents for making you go to the stupid thing, at yourself for not lying on your questionnaire, at the universe for existing. At Hoseok for existing. There was a lot to process.

Obviously, the matchmaking service was flawed, false, fake, inaccurate. And you were glad that you hadn’t been excited for the event in the first place, because you would’ve been dead by now. Reason of death? Disappointment. How in the world someone could think you and Hoseok were compatible at all was a complete mystery to you.

Glancing up from where you’d been glaring at your still half full flute of champagne, you eyed your unwelcome companion. Hoseok was looking out into the crowded room, stare blank as his mind went somewhere you had no interest in trying to follow even if you could. Four years had passed since you’d last laid eyes on him and in that time he’d changed physically, but also still looked the same.

No longer was he the teenager who’d yet to grow into his cheekbones, though he still had those broad shoulders and large hands and muscular-yet-slim athletic build. He’d always been handsome—not that you’d ever tell him that, even if your life was at stake—and his looks had only matured. Hoseok was all angles and sharp lines and deep set eyes framed by long lashes that always made you secretly jealous.

Which only fueled your puzzlement.

“Why are you here?”

He blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts were running through his mind and turned back to you. “What?”

“Why are you here,” you asked slowly, tongue spelling out each of the syllables like he couldn’t understand you otherwise.

Hoseok’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we already had this conversation.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms. “I meant here as in this stupid event looking for a mate, not this stupid table.”

“Why are you? Already scared off everyone on the other side of the country with your annoying personality?” Four years later and he still had that infuriating smirk, that quirk of his lips that had your blood pressure instantly spiking.

“Are you here because you’ve slept with the whole town already?”

Humming, Hoseok tilted his head to the side in fake contemplation. “Your jealousy is showing again, L/n.”

“Your inflated ego is showing again, Jung.”

“Oh? If I’m recalling correctly, that’s exactly what you said years ago, right before you slobbered all over my chin.”

“Me? Me? Says the one who—”

“Could I have everyone’s attention please?” A woman’s voice cut through your heated response. Somewhere between the time the conversation had first begun and now, both you and Hoseok had gone from putting as much distance between the two of you as possible, to practically falling on top of the table to spew insults at one another.

With one last glare, you turned to look over your shoulder at the well-dressed blonde woman standing on the stage near the front. The material of her designer jumpsuit shimmered beneath the lights as her manicured hand held a microphone to her glossy, smiling lips. “Hello everyone! I’d like to welcome you to this year’s MateMaking—”

Hoseok’s quiet scoff echoed your own at the sound of the horribly unwitty play on words. His annoyed scowl also mirrored yours when you turned back to throw him one.

“—event! I can see that everyone has already found their mate-tastic partners for the evening.” She winked, earning a few light, nervous giggles from the crowd. “There are a few house rules that we must go over before we can officially begin. For starters, there will be no exchanging of partners. Secondly, a limit of two alcoholic beverages per person has and will be implemented. And last but not least, please make sure to enjoy yourselves! Now, onto the mate—” another wink “—event.”

“The grand prize for the lucky couple who wins tonight’s competition has been graciously donated by the Four Seasons Hotel.” She held up her fingers as she listed them, but you were too busy hanging onto her previous statement. “A free, one night stay in the penthouse suite tonight, an unlimited tab at the bar down the hall, and,” she paused in an attempt to build up the anticipation. “Eight hundred dollars cash.”

“Competition,” you questioned under your breath. What the hell did she mean by that? Wasn’t the whole event supposed to just be a glorified blind date? You threw a glance over your shoulder at Hoseok, who was too busy mouthing the words “eight hundred dollars” to pay you any attention.

“Now if you could all please leave your seats and gather onto the dance floor with your partner, we can begin.” The sound of chairs pushing back from tables echoed around the room and you watched as the people closest to the large opening in the middle of the floor started congregating.

Confused, you blindly rose to your feet and looked to see Hoseok doing the same. “What the hell is going on? I thought this was supposed to be about matchmaking?”

He blinked once, twice, before a laugh bubbled up his throat. “Did you not read the details of the event?”

“What details?” Your cheeks were slowly turning pink in embarrassment, you could feel it, and also couldn’t help it.

“You’re really telling me that you missed the giant, bold letters on the website?”

“What bold letters?” Weaving through the emptying tables, you tried your best to keep up with him on your shorter legs.

Hoseok tutted. “And you always tried to say that I was the stupid one.” He looked down at you once he finally found a spot on the floor that he liked, humor dancing across his face. You were just far away enough from the two coupled next to you that you couldn’t hear their conversations without trying to eavesdrop.

Annoyed, you smacked a hand against his arm and hissed, “Just tell me, asshole!”

“Owch.” He rubbed where you’d hit him, faking a grimace like you’d ever be able to actually hurt him. “Is that how you talk to someone you’re trying to get to help you?”

Your mouth opened to let out another string of character attacking profanities, but he halted them by holding up a hand. “This is a matchmaking event, but it’s also a competition. One that I’m not going to lose, not with that prize money on the line.”

“Oh,” you responded. Well, that explained some of it, but. “We.”

“What?”

“One that we’re not gonna lose,” you corrected him, mind already reeling with what you could use all of that cash for. “We win and split the money.”

“What makes you think that I’d want to split it with you?” A raise of his eyebrow.

A roll of your eyes. “Like you have any other choice. Do you see any other person you can impose your irritating presence on?”

A pause in the air. Pursed lips. Then: “Fine.”

“Fine.”

An agreement.

A temporary ceasefire just in time for one of the workers of the event to reach your side and gift the two of you with a bright green, inflated balloon. He walked off with the parting instructions not to pop it before making his way down the line and giving one to each couple he passed.

“The first stage of tonight’s competition,” the woman MCing (you were pretty sure she’d introduced herself, you’d just hadn’t been paying attention) addressed the crowd. “Is a slow dance to test you and your partner’s ability to be gentle with one another, both with the body and the heart. You must take the balloons that you have and put it in between your bodies.

“Whenever you hear the music change, you and your partner must step closer to each other. The last seven out of our ten couples that succeed in not popping the balloon or letting it fall to the ground will move on to the next round. Those of you who do not pass, will be shown to the bar across the hall to better get acquainted. Let us begin! Don’t be shy, everyone get into position.”

A few chuckles filtered throughout the room, balloons squeaking and strangers lightly conversing as they tried to follow the instructions. You looked up at Hoseok who looked back down at you with the medium sized balloon clutched in his hand.

He tilted his head to the side and wiggled the piece of rubber and hot air. “Are you going to come closer or not? Don’t pretend like you don’t want to touch me.”

“Trust me when I say that I don’t have to pretend,” you huffed, but stepped closer. One of his hands shot out to wrap around your waist, long slender fingers spreading across the whole expanse of the small of your back. You did your best to ignore the heat that bled from his body like a leech, and placed your left hand on his right shoulder.

With the balloon now firmly in place between the two of you, Hoseok took up your free hand with his just in time for the music to start pouring over the speakers. It wasn’t anything that you recognized—some indie song where the singer crooned lyrics about love or beauty or whatever. You didn’t care enough to pay attention.

“You better not step on my feet,” you spoke as the two of you swayed side to side, just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough for the slow dancing couples around you.

“Me? Step on your feet?” Hoseok gave you a look of disbelief. “Aren’t you the one who broke Felix Lee’s foot at prom?”

“No.” At the raising of his brows, you rolled your eyes and looked at some point over his shoulder so you wouldn’t have to meet his skeptical stare. “Okay, so maybe.” — he snorted — “But that had nothing to do with dancing!”

“You’ve always been a horrible liar, L/n.”

“And you’ve always been horrible at telling the truth, Jung.” The song changed into something a little more upbeat, one you thought you might have heard a time or two. Unfortunately, you had to step an inch closer to the man steadily guiding you around the dance floor.

A pop! resounded from the other side of the room as the first couple was eliminated. Squeaking from the balloon cushioned between both of your chests had your conversation pausing for a moment before it picked back up.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know what it means.”

“Believe it or not, L/n,” Hoseok began, “But I would never claim to know what goes on in that cluttered mind of yours.”

“I—wait,” you narrowed your eyes. “How do you know who I went to prom with?”

His mouth opened and closed, obviously ready to swing at you with another comeback before your question caught him off guard. “What?”

“How did you know that I went to prom with Felix?” Another change of the song had you automatically taking another step forward. “I thought you didn’t go to prom.”

“How did you know that I didn’t go to prom?” Hoseok fired back, avoiding the question.

“Oh, please,” you took a breath through your mouth and immediately regretted it when his strong, husky scent invaded your senses and lingered on your tongue. “If you were there, you would’ve been up my ass all night.”

“Now who’s the one with the inflated ego? Everyone was talking about how you’d stomped on him with your ogre feet the next day of school.” He didn’t make eye contact when you looked back at him, his gaze trailing over your head.

You raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s the horrible liar?”

“I’m not lying.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“And I don’t care.”

“Liar.”

“Truther.”

“Truth— what — what even is that?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“Which is?”

Hoseok’s lips pulled back into a grin, tiny dimples popping into place and white teeth kissing the air. “A truther.”

“You’re so annoying,” the words were supposed to sound annoyed, but you couldn’t help the amused upwards twitch of your mouth.

“I don’t think you have any room to talk, sweetheart.”

You blinked at the pet name. That was new. “Sweetheart?”

Hoseok didn’t respond right away. He just stared down at you past his perfectly shaped nose, dark eyelashes framing brushing the apples of his cheeks. And for the first time in as long as you could remember, you realized that you couldn’t read the thoughts lingering behind his softly bright eyes. Silence lingered for one moment, two, and then his heart shaped lips parted and—

Pop!

You started, jerking back in surprise and Hoseok’s grip on you was the only thing that prevented your balloon from falling to the floor. Pop! Next to you, a couple let out noises of disappointment as they watched the remnants of their popped balloon scatter beneath their feet. They must have frightened another pair of people in the center of the dance floor because theirs popped as well.

“And that concludes our first round!” The MC spoke out over the crowd. “Congratulations to those who have made it though. Now let’s see if your luck persists during round two!”

You looked at Hoseok and he looked back, previously open expression dropped. No words were exchanged, but you already knew that the conversation would be dropped.

Hoseok’s back was warm from where it pressed up against yours, the chairs you sat in doing nothing to stop it from seeping into your skin. In your hands was a tablet, screen displaying the game that the two of you were about to play. The goal was to “defuse a bomb” by following the manual filled with instructions. Which sounded easy in retrospect, but seeing as how the only way you could get said instructions was by Hoseok reading them off the packet in his grasp.

You weren’t allowed to look at the manual, and he wasn’t allowed to look at the tablet screen. And somehow, some way, you were supposed to “defuse the bomb” in five minutes. The MC had said something about testing your ability to communicate with one another, blah, blah, blah. All you knew was that there was no way you were going to lose the stupid competition.

Even if you had to deal with Hoseok’s frustrated grumbling.

“Just tell me which wire I need to cut, Jung!” Or perhaps it was you who was doing the frustrated grumbling. But eh, semantics. The tablet screen was displaying a section of the “bomb” that had four wires criss-crossing one another and you were only allowed to “cut” one of them.

“I already told you,” Hoseok grunted. “The blue one.”

“There’s two blue ones!”

“Then cut the one that’s more blue!”

“They’re the same color you idiot!”

“Stop yelling, I’m trying to read!” He huffed, the sound of paper turning accompanying it. Around the room, the noise level was a cacophony of people talking over one another. The closer the five minutes got to being over, the higher the voices rose. “It says, ‘if there is a red wire—’”

“I only have two blue’s and two white’s!”

“Cut the first blue wire then.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, L/n.”

“Fine.” A pause as you tapped on the screen and waited for it to do something. “Nothing’s happening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why would I lie—oh wait, no, there’s a little x on the screen. Okay I think we’re good with that one.” You didn’t even have to look back to see Hoseok’s face to know that he was rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Now it’s showing a square with four different symbols inside it. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Hold on.” He shuffled his papers in search of the next set of instructions. “Okay, it says ‘always press symbols higher in the column than lower in the column.’”

“What does that even mean?”

“How am I supposed to know? Do I look like the game designer?”

“You’re an Alpha, aren’t you supposed to have great leadership skills or something?”

“What does that even have to do with this?”

“Just give me the damn instructions, Jung!”

“You’re so pushy. No wonder you’re still single.” Hoseok didn’t give you a chance to respond to his jibe before he continued. “Push the symbol of the pitchfork first, then,” he halted for a second, more than likely trying to find his next words before continuing. “Press the one that looks like a pregnant letter T.”

“A what?”

“I know you know what I’m talking about!”

You scrutinized the symbols before going with the one he described, not that you’d ever tell him it was pretty accurate. “Now what?”

“Next is the one that looks like a football goal.” (“God, you’re such a jock.”) “And then push the last one.”

Your finger tapped the screen and a noise escaped your throat when all of the panels on the “bomb” turned green and the timer stopped counting down. “Oh, hell yes!”

“What? Did we beat it?” Hoseok’s head tilted in your direction without him actually having to look back at you.

“Fuck yeah!” Okay, so maybe you were shouting a little too loudly and maybe all of the other couples who had yet to finish the game were giving you looks, but it wasn’t your fault that you were the first team to win.

“Yeah?” Hoseok finally turned to face you, torso twisting in his chair in order to do so. His face was lit up in excitement, the adrenaline of trying to complete the game sparking to life in his beautifully expressive brown eyes.

“Yeah!” It was unusual for an Omega to be competitive, but you couldn’t help your inherent desire to win. If you were to analyse it, a therapist would probably say that it was more than likely due to growing up competing with the man who sat at your back. (But you weren’t a therapist.)

You weren’t sure who went for it first, who moved, who decided to cross that boundary. But one moment you were looking up at his face, and the next your nose was pressed into the junction between his neck and shoulder. Hoseok’s arm was wrapped around your upper back and both of yours were loops around his neck.

The celebratory hug didn’t last long, just enough for his scent — gentle and earthy like petrichor right before it rained — before the both of you pulled away like you’d been electrocuted. An awkward silence followed the accidental physical contact and you weren’t sure where you were supposed to look. But it wasn’t at him.

And you definitely did not miss the feeling of being pressed to his chest.

(Or maybe Hoseok was right and you were a terrible liar. Even to yourself.)

The second round had eliminated a majority of the remaining contestants. Now all that was left were you and Hoseok, a petite woman with a contrastingly tall man, and two average height men. Since your team had come in first place during the last round, you were relegated to nonsensically going last in the final one. With the previous eliminated couples allowed back into the ballroom, you had quite the audience.

Sitting in another chair in the middle of the dance floor, you fiddled with the whiteboard and marker in your hands. You were facing Hoseok so the two of you couldn’t cheat by looking at what the other person was writing. The MC stood between and a little behind both of you, lips pulled up into a smile as she held a stack of cards in her hand.

You’d only ever seen this game played at the weddings of family members you’d gone to over the years, so why they’d chosen to have to (what they thought) complete strangers play it was a mystery to you. Something about “getting to know one another” and “testing compatibility” bullshit and the couple who got the highest answers correct was the winner.

Whatever.

When the MC asked her first question, you were ready.

“Okay, let’s begin! First question, write down which one of the two of you that you believe owns more clothes than the other.” Holding back an eye roll, you quickly scribbled down your answer with the dry-erase marker at the same time that Hoseok did. “Now show us your boards!”

You turned yours with a flick of your wrist, Hoseok’s name written across the surface in ink. It came as no surprise at all that he’d also penned himself down; he’d always been on top of all of the trends in the fashion world so you knew for a fact that his closet greatly exceeded yours.

“Would you look at that!” The MC crowed. “Already so in sync!”

(Unbeknownst to you both, your faces mirrored the same grimace as you erased your boards.)

“Second question: who do you believe is the most stubborn?”

That one took a bit more thought, your eyes flickering up to watch as Hoseok easily scrawled on his board. You already knew what he was going to write and you wanted to win, and you’d do whatever it took to do so. Even if it meant admitting something that wasn’t true.

At the MC’s cue, your boards flipped around to display your name written down on both of them. You glared. The crowd aw’d. The MC squealed at how “you were on the same wavelength.”

“Who’s most likely to cry during a movie?” Hoseok.

“Who do you think is the smartest.” You (much to your surprise that he wrote that down).

“Who has to have the final word during an argument?” You. That one took a little longer to decide with the two of you eyeing each other over the tops of your boards.

“Who got better grades in school?” A snort and the sound of your marker dragging across the board to scribble your own name down.

“Who’s the better dancer?” Hoseok, of course. Who could forget him dancing in the school hallways early in the morning before people even deigned to enter the place?

“If you were to become a couple, who would wear the pants in the relationship.” That question had you glaring and fingers cramping as you dug the tip of the marker into the board. Both was scribbled down on each.

“How about this one: who do you think is the better kisser?” The time in Jackson Wang’s basement popped to the forefront of your mind. It’d been years, but you could still remember the feel of Hoseok’s lips moving against yours and the taste of him on your tongue. You paused, marker hovering over the board before you took a deep, silent breath and wrote your answer down.

That was the first question that the two of you got wrong. With his board displaying your name and yours displaying his, all you could do was stare. Hoseok’s mouth was pressed into a line, not one of his angry ones, but the one he would unconsciously do whenever he was thinking hard on something. You weren’t sure what it was, nor did you have the time to try and figure it out.

“Aw, the first question they’ve gotten wrong. Or did they get it right?” Cue a wink from the MC and a few chuckles from the crowd. “How about we get a little more serious with the final question, hm? Who do you believe would be the first to fall in love with the other?”

You were positive that that would be the second question the two of you would get wrong, but you wrote your answer down anyway. When the cue came to flip them over, you felt your heart stutter. Lips part in surprise. Breath catch in your throat.

Hoseok looked at you with his lips pressed in that thin line, espresso hued, deep set eyes displaying an emotion that you’d never seen before. Never thought would be aimed at you. The whiteboard clutched between your hands shook as you read his over and over and wondered at what it meant (and if you were going to lie to yourself again).

Hoseok was written down on both of your boards, much to the delight of the onlookers.

The MC announcing that the game was complete and that you and Hoseok were the winners was a blur. The cheers from the crowd were a blur. The way the MC held both of your hands as she congratulated you and gifted you with your prizes was a blur.

Hoseok’s refusal to look at you was the only thing that was crystal clear. His back, his broad shoulders cloaked in his black satin tuxedo jacket, the nape of his neck, were the only things you could see. You didn’t get the chance to even speak to him until the elevator doors leading up to the penthouse slid shut.

The MC had sent you off with the key and a wink and a promise that the aforementioned eight hundred dollars was awaiting the two of you in the penthouse suite. Silence engulfed the steel box as it ascended that was neither awkward, nor tense—just heavy. You couldn’t stand it. So you wouldn’t.

“Hoseok.”

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, back braced against the elevator wall.

“Why did you write your name down for that question?”

“Which one? There were dozens.”

“You still suck at telling the truth.”

A pause hovered in the air, the red digital numbers above the elevator continuing to count upwards. And then he spoke. “I was telling the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes.”

Hoseok laughed breathily. Not of amusement, not of someone who’d found something particularly funny. “Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so all you could do was nod.

“I’d been wanting to kiss you since you threw that box of crayons at my head.” He turned to look at you, eyes deep and open and luminescent. “And I’ve been thinking about doing it again ever since that game of spin-the-bottle.”

Your mouth opened and closed, words stuck in your throat until you forced yourself to cough them out. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

He scoffed. “Why would I? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Hoseok.” The syllables of his first name were unfamiliar on your tongue, but you loved the taste of them anyway. “I’ve never hated you.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. “Really.” It wasn’t a question.

“Okay, no, that was a lie,” you mumbled. “I didn’t hate you until after that kiss. But it was only because I’d never wanted it to end.”

“What are you saying?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” You shot back without any heat.

“Maybe,” he hummed, lifting a hand to brush against your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his nose brushed yours. That was the only warning you got before he captured your mouth with his. Hoseok’s lips were just as soft as you remembered, his kiss just as slow, taste just as intoxicating. You involuntarily sighed into his mouth when his teeth caught your bottom lip and tugged.

“I love you,” he breathed into the crevice of your neck.

You sighed. A soft, gentle thing that had the corners of his mouth ticking upwards. “I love you too.”

A pause and then:

“Even though you’re annoying.”

Hoseok’s laugh shook both his frame and yours and you couldn’t help the giggle that harmonized.

tagged: @kotaevln​ @ladyartemesia @alana-ba @lifegoesondotcom @ardoren @awsome-small-k @chimchimsauce @jjamsbangtan @ohheyitssj @bewitch-me @lovetic @veronawrites @lilacdreams-00 @clarissalance​ @daydreambrliever @unicornbabylover @taestannie​ @forever-once-gone @outrofenty @hoseokslefteyebrow @1am9root6 @btsmylife21 @fireheart2003 @iv-bts

[thursday-writes-fanfics]

Choose, part 4. (Reader x Jack Sparrow or Will Turner. )

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean, Will Turner, Jack Sparrow.

Warnings: None lmao

Words: 2.3 K

First - Former - Next

It's been a while since my last update, so here you go!

One year had passed since the faithed night in Tortuga, where Y/N left everything she once knew behind, to seek the truth she needed to find within. One eventful year where she had gone alone through more than most would in their lifetime. Travelling along with different crews, battling across the seas and polishing her hastily growing reputation as one of the most fearsome pirates the world has ever seen. None dared voice their annoyance with her being a woman, for she had allies all across the seven seas. She had seen so much of the world, her confidence grown and her heart set aflame with adventure. Y/N was an even finer pirate and woman than she had been ever before.

Other pirates either wished to be her or be with her, the secrets of many slipped into her ears. It amused the young woman, and the many who worked in the brothels along the coasts. When Y/N needed information, it was not other pirates or navy officials she sought out. No, it was the brothels’ gossip she tuned her ears to. For the women there knew far more of the world than any other. All news came to their homes and it was all available for the famous pirate.

She had earned an even better reputation with them as well, as she sought out the women there the first thing she did each time she came ashore. She treated them kindly, paid for their food and brought along gifts, treating them like friends. Her actions earned her a handsome reputation with the women, and in each town she could always find a loyal embrace to keep her safe. After all, the women of the brothels ruled the cities from the shadows. To anger one of them was to anger an underground nation.

Y/N’s locks had grown long since the night one year ago, her clothing expensive and proud on her frame. A treat she gave herself due to her wide success in both informal and formal businesses. She was a true pirate, yet could strike a bargain with the British navy without a problem. After all, they too were afraid of her.

The feather on her black hat curled down to her shoulder, its size another show of her wealth and power. The weaponry which clad her shape were the most efficient, on all the ships of the sea, not even the British army able to supply her better. Only the finest for herself, the woman had decided. Dual pistols she had strapped to each side of her chest, and upon both hips she held blades, one magnificent sabre and one deadly cutlass, all adorned with the most elaborate details. These were all weapons to show, the rest she had hidden in pockets and secret departments on her curves. Small explosives and hidden blades were better kept in subtle crevices than to be seen by the naked eye when one made deals. All about the fearsome pirate screamed confidence and to show respect, and that respect she had earned many times over.

“We’ll be docked in an hour, lass,” came the captain’s voice, the merry band she was travelling with now not as roughhousing as most of her fellow pirates. Mercenaries of the law they were during the day after all, and they weren’t too keen on going out during the night when there was ale to be drunk with stories to be told in old taverns. It was a life-altering change from how they had once been, when the captain and his crew had been young and adventurous. A smirk clad Y/N’s lips when she faced the man, her fingers fiddling with the sabre’s handle. “Aye, thought it was about time to dock, Captain Henry. And still I’m not sure if I will take my leave of you when we get there, or if I will meet the navy together with you in the morrow,” her deceptive nature made the captain laugh, for he knew just how little control anyone had over the young pirate. He joined her side with a few strides to the railing, gazing at the sea from the quarterdeck.

“Aye, ye do as ye wish, lassie,” mused the older man, finding his gaze once more sought out her face. “Yer not notorious for knowing every pirate for no reason. Can’t keep ye in place forever” he snickered, his mind on the many rumours he had heard over the past year of the pirate. He had seen it himself a few times too, how the famous Y/N had stepped off one ship only to board another in the same port. Her name was known by all, whether they liked her or not. Her presence on a ship could deter a dispute between two crews, for no one wanted her gone. And those who did were quick to find themselves cornered and silenced for good after voicing such atrocious thoughts aloud.

“Oh shut your gob, “ sneered the woman in reply, earning more laughter from the captain as his head fell back to let the thunderous noise wash over the ship. A simple “Never,” Henry retaliated, winning their argument as he strode to attend his crew and ensure the docking process would flow smoothly. Y/N watched the sea for a moment longer, trained on the horizon in an attempt to find a peculiar ship. One which carried black sails. Fingers carded through her hair as she thought about her old companions, but discarded the thoughts just as quickly. A turn of her heels and the woman came to face the incoming port, nothing she wished to see there either. A defeated smile curled her lips when she ventured to help her current crew, missing the hint of black that rounded a nearby island with a course for their port.

“ Alright, lads!” with easy leaps and muscles bunched for one last jump, Y/N climbed halfway up the crow's nest and gazed down at the many faces who all gave her their full attention.

“ I’m saying this just once because Henry doesn’t seem to be able to get it through your thick skulls. If we don’t get this cargo to the bay within the first few hours of us getting to port, the taverns will be full and the brothels closed,” the crew stared at the woman, most having just woken up from their midday nap. Too many faces were disinterested, the woman sneering maliciously as she knew exactly what would get them on their feet.

“Which means, no ale and no lovers!” Y/N roared, drawing enjoyment from the panic growing in the men’s eyes. They had been at sea for a month now, and the lot needed more than the icy waters could ever offer.

“So unless you wish to mope around the ship for the entire night, alone, get to it!” the crew leapt to their feet, their rushing steps and loud cries satisfying to Y/N’s ears. The pirate’s piercing eyes found the captain who let his chest heave with a sigh, not one to question the woman’s authority. She had gotten the crew off their asses with a single threat, when he had shouted at them all day to get ready. The ship groaned when they threw down the anchor, straining against it as it still wished to traverse further. A gangplank found its hold against the port, the cargo soon to cross over it. Both the captain and Alexandra oversaw the process, to ensure their goods would be gone by the hour.

“Ye know,” Captain Henry spoke after a long while, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Ye should consider becoming a captain one day,” Y/N snapped her head to face the man, eyes threatening to fall out. “Me? A captain?” she ridiculed, shocked by his words. The captain let a snicker pass his lips at her surprise, for being able to shock the immovable Y/N was quite amusing. Work roughened hand, tainted by the deep sea came to rest on his back, clasped together.

“Just sayin’. Ye’ve got the guts and respect for it,” with a smirk the captain passed his current crewmate, stepping onto the railing. “I will leave the rest to ye, for I am in need of a drink,” a wink was sent the woman’s way before Captain Henry made his way down the docks, disappearing without a trace. His back was followed by Y/N’s incredulous gaze.

“You fucking bastard,” Y/N shouted after him, her spiteful words only a show of affection to them both. With a shake of her head and a smirk on her lips growing when she heard the captain’s faraway laughter, the pirate got back to work. With an easy step, she leapt atop the railing, gazing at the crew working by her side.

“We’re making good time, lads! If you keep this up you’re probably going to be one of the first crews of the night to get to the pubs!” Y/N encouraged them. The merry men laughed and cheered whilst their work pace increased tenfold at the praise and promises of entertainment. Even the stand-in captain dared to laugh herself, unaware of how many eyes watched her joy from far out at sea.

It started with Ragetti looking through the captain’s spyglass, minding his own business as they had yet to start preparing to get docked. When turning his eye to the port city, he could tear his wandering gaze when it laid eyes on an extremely familiar figure. Too far away to make out entirely, yet the pirate was certain of who he saw. None he had ever encountered before looked and stood like their old acquaintance.

“Oh, would you look at that!” the pirate laughed, Pintel looking over at him with a raised brow. The spyglass fell from his eye, Ragetti free hand pointing to one of the largest ships docked in the nearing port.

“Y/N is aboard Henry the Savage’s boat!” the words he spoke carried over the deck, the silence that followed deafening, the group trying to comprehend what had just been said. A moment later and the crew rushed like a stampede for the two pirates who shrieked in fright at the threatening approach. The spyglass was taken from Ragetti’s hand and passed to them all to get a look for themselves.

“I can’t see ‘er!”

“Is it really Y/N the Courageous you saw?”

“Courageous? No! Her title is the Unbeatable!

“No, she’s Y/N the Ace of the Sea! The greatest pirate yet!”

The commotion on deck drew Will and Jack from the captain’s cabin, the crew’s loud and incoherent discussions about titles and names soon finding their ears. The former blacksmith was with the crew temporarily, as he had a job to be done with them before they ventured to Port Royal. Both captain and his companion froze in their steps when a well-known name echoed across the crew over and over. A shocked gaze was shared, but the two strode forth together for they could not believe in illusions just because a name was mentioned a few times.

“Right. What’s all this then?” came from the captain’s chest, the crew jumping at the sound of his voice. Jack Sparrow regarded them all with his hands propped on his hips, the loyal blacksmith at his side. Gibbs was the first to speak and took matters into hand, roughly pulling the spyglass from the nearest pirate’s. “It’s Y/N, Jack,” his words piqued further interest in the two newcomers, the two striding through the parting crew to the first mate.

“Y/N?” Will asked, unable to hide the hope that bubbled up in his voice at the mention of her name. The blue eyes grew clearer, not the wistful one’s the crew had come to be familiar with. Jack snatched the spyglass from Gibbs’ offered hand and turned to face the port. With his gaze, he followed the finger pointing at the supposedly familiar pirate. Jack froze upon seeing who they meant, eye narrowing when he stared her down. “No, it can’t be her,” the captain muttered, more to himself than anybody else.

“Far too curvy and longer hair. She didn’t look so cheerful to everyone all the time,” the jealousy and denial dripped from the captain’s tongue, the disbelief he held in his heart fading with each second.

“Can’t be her. No way, you’re all dreaming,” Jack continued before yelping as Will tore the spyglass from his hands, the force of it almost making the captain fall overboard. The blacksmith’s own gaze sought the port for the one they spoke of, his heart beating so quickly it drowned out all sound.

He too came to stand still once he found her form. She stood proud and tall upon Henry the Savage’s railing, her hand thrown out as she barked orders to the crewmates. And there on her lips was a grin, a grin that only the closest of her friends had seen before. Now as she shared it with the rest of the world, the former blacksmith’s blood boiled with jealousy.

“It’s her. There’s no way it’s not her,” Will snarled in reply to Jack’s incessant mumbling, handing the spyglass to Cotton. Will turned to the Black Pearl’s crew, and just like the woman on the other ship, began to bark orders. Where hers had been kind and joyous, he’s were angry and determined orders, none on the ship daring to stand in his way. The desperation in his anger was evident, and the fact that their own Captain Jack did nothing but mumble was a telltale sign that this was a serious matter. Otherwise, Will would have had a sword at his neck for even attempting to command the crew. Their efforts to hurry were doubled, when Jack regained his mind only to shout orders alongside his friend.

Oh, how oblivious the woman they had sought for was, for she heard none of the shouting on the nearing ship. For her well-beloved face was already being shown in one of her favourite taverns.

[archangelsquill]

to hell and back || damien darkblood x reader 

pairing: damien darkblood x partner reader (gn, no y/n)

fandom: invincible

word count: 1448

summary: after omni-man flees earth and things begin to settle down, cecil feels he owes you -- the demon detective’s partner in solving crime -- a favor.

warnings: none

a/n: a sequel to this. darkblood deserves better, and by the gods, i’m giving it to him! enjoy, my fellow simps.

———

“If anything happens to them, on your head it will be, Cecil!”

Those were the final words of the demon as the pits of hell called him home, and as Cecil met his gaze, he knew it was no threat. It was a promise, and though he considered himself a bastard, Cecil saw no need to keep you in danger. He knew without Darkblood around, you were a target for Nolan. He’d already had security detail on you, but against Omni-Man, he knew it was useless. If he ever decided he wanted you dead, there’d be nothing stopping him.

Then, if Cecil was lucky (or maybe unlucky) to stay out of the warpath, he’d have Darkblood breathing down his neck, even with such distance between this world and his.

Sending him back to Hell wasn’t something Cecil wanted to do. It was a necessity. He owed him big time for that, and he’d start with keeping you off Nolan’s radar.

The official report was that you’d gone to stay with an imaginary Aunt Sue, somewhere in the Dakotas, but the reality was you were to be kept in the Global Defense Agency Headquarters -- well hidden, out of sight, and away from Nolan Grayson.

No one told you a thing. You’d been in your apartment, waiting for Damien to show up with those coffees he’d promised. Evidence, photos, and papers of theories and notes were scattered around the small space, occupying every inch of surface area, as you paced, a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger and stronger the longer your demon detective was away. Something was wrong, and as Cecil Stedman appeared suddenly before you, making you jump out of your skin, you knew for sure. 

“You’re the demon’s partner, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I guess you’re Cecil.”

“You guess right. You need to come with us.”

“Why?”

“You’re not safe anymore.”

“What?”

“I can’t answer your questions now. Pack a bag. You won’t be coming back for a while.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t have a choice.

The Global Defense Agency took care of your monthly expenses while you were gone, as if that made any of this less scary or confusing. All you’d been told was Damien was back in Hell, Cecil put him there, and you were in danger.

No one told you much else. Cecil had acted civil toward you -- kind, even -- but it didn’t help. Damien was gone, it was Cecil’s fault, and life may never be normal again.

All because you two asked questions.

Because you wanted the truth.

And you both had paid the price: freedom.

Meanwhile, Omni-Man roamed free, ready to kill again.

You lost count of how long you’d been at GDA HQ when Nolan finally struck.

Initially, you’d been barred from the control room, but Cecil let you choose to watch the chaos or stay blind to it.

You choose not to watch. No one needed you to be in the room when all of the ruin, disaster, and chaos you and Damien knew would happen happened. Based on what Cecil told you after, you were glad you decided to stay out of it.

All of those innocent people, now dead. All of that destruction. All of that carnage, and for what? Omni-Man had fled.

It was for nothing.

And Debbie…

You’d offered as much comfort as you could. You knew how it felt to lose a loved one (it took all you had not to look pointedly at Cecil when you told her that) and the woman needed someone to lean on. Someone not quite so cold as Cecil.

And he’d watched you. Despite everything, you comforted Debbie and Mark, putting on a brave face as if you haven’t lost everything, too. Cecil knows you’re still hurting -- why wouldn’t you be?

Cecil was many things, and a man who paid his debts was absolutely one of them.

He’d been searching since he put Darkblood back in Hell for it: the spell to undo what he did. To summon him back. His plan was always to bring him back, if such a thing existed. He’d had his people looking for months with no luck, and he’d already given you the all clear to go home, with the promise your rent and utilities were paid for until you could get back on your feet.

Yeah. Right. How the fuck do you do that? Your partner -- not only in profession but your partner -- was gone, your office had been trashed, and your apartment felt so empty it was somehow suffocating.

For weeks after you’d returned, you’d laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling, jumping at any change in the temperature, hoping one day you’d look up and see him, only to find it was the apartment complex’s shitty circulation.

The news talked about things going back to normal, yet normal sounded like a foreign language now. How was the world supposed to be any kind of normal again?

Cecil made a few visits to check on you, but you regarded him with coldness that could rival that of Damien’s. He couldn’t blame you.

You’d lost track of the days when the sigh that escaped your lips was accompanied by a small fog. You froze, sitting up from your temporary home on the couch before exhaling again. Just to be sure.

And there it was again: the small visage of your breath indicating the decrease in temperature you’d been ignoring out of lost hope.

“Damien…?”

“Yes, amare?” the gruff baritone was music to your ears as you turned toward your kitchen. There he was: red, large, and intimidating -- yet that soft look in his gaze remained, as if no time at all had passed.

“Damien!” you leapt over the couch, nearly tumbling to the ground before two strong arms grab you, pulling you into the warmest yet coldest bear hug you’ve ever gotten.

“Sorry for delay. Had to...speak with Cecil...” he rumbles, clawed hand carding through your hair, “Need to be ‘debriefed’ but...had to see you.”

“I can tell you what you missed.” you mumble, burying your face in his arms. He pulls you tighter still, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Later,” he says.

And for a moment -- how long, you’re not sure -- you both just sit there on the living room floor, holding each other in a silent, loving embrace. Tears stream down your face, stinging from the cold emanating from Damien. His hand moves to brush them away, and the contact makes you cry more. You missed him. It had been so long.

After what felt like forever, you part -- just enough to look at each other. He, of course, looks no different. Demons didn’t age like humans did. You, however, probably look like shit. You hadn’t looked in a mirror in forever, but you knew your hair was much longer. You hadn’t bothered to get it cut in...how long had it been? It wasn’t like you could’ve gotten it cut, anyway. The city had been rebuilding, and getting anywhere was...well, hell.

“Beautiful as the day I lost you,” he says, and your tears well up again.

“I know I look like shit, Damien,” you say, trying to laugh off the sudden absence of your grief. He smiles slightly -- a rare sight.

“To me you look like heaven, amare,” he replies.

Amare. His nickname for you. You think its Latin, but you’ve never looked into what it means. You never asked, either, assuming he’d just tell you one day.

But you almost lost him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look into it after he was gone, and now that he was here again….you decide to ask.

“You’ve called me that since we became partners. What does it mean?”

“Supposed to be a detective.” he replies. His own attempt at a joke, you muse. You’re in no mood for it.

“Damien, please.”

He looks at you fondly, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Love. It means love.”

You should’ve figured, yet you find yourself crying again, and his arms wrap tighter around you in a protective, loving embrace.

There was more to be said between you two. You both know it. What happened to Damien in Hell? How did everything with Nolan go down here? Now that Cecil knew how to banish and summon Damien as he pleased, what would become of your demon detective?

All need answers. Resolutions.

But not now.

Now was the time for healing: for the world, for humanity, and for you and your demon in that tiny apartment.

You had him back, and though so much hangs in the air, that was enough.

[wicked-mind]

Soulmates- Chapter Five

Summary: Soulmates are connected on a deeper level emotionally and physically. They can feel what the other needs and wants. As hints, the universe grants tattoos on your skin to help you find your soulmate when you’re about to meet them. When Bucky’s soulmate tattoo appears out of the blue, he knows that she is about to come into his life, but the way she does is not what he was expecting.

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: Swearing, as usual. Violence, minor character death (OC character), smut (Yup, some smut in here so minors please exit. I'm also new at writing smut so don't expect much lol)

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

Previously

Y/N bit her lip at his touch, feeling his anger and need to protect her from their bond. She lifts her hands to wrap around his shoulders and behind his neck instinctively, taking a deep breath. Nobody except Natasha knew the story but she knew she could trust Bucky with the truth, “Sometimes it still feels like I’m still laying there on the floor, watching the sun rise through the window and trying to stay awake and alive.” She whispers softly. This was a side of her she thought she lost the night her twin tried to kill her, the part that wanted to trust and be loved. Her soulmate bond to Bucky pulled the truth out of her, wanting to be honest with him. Let him see all the broken and torn up pieces inside her, “Sometimes it feels like the scar still burns, like it’s an open wound I can’t get rid of telling me I should’ve died. I hate it.”

Bucky frowned at her words against her neck, picking her up by her hips and moving to lay her on the bed. He crawled on top of Y/N, looking into her eyes with his stormy blue ones, “Darling, that scar proves you are a survivor.” He whispered down to her, lifting her shirt with one hand to expose the scar. He looked down it as he traced his flesh fingers along it, causing goosebumps to appear on her skin at his touch, “It’s a part of you, and it may be a dark part of you, but it’s still something that made you who you are. And as much as I hate that you went through that, I’m also grateful it made you a strong, bad-ass woman.” He smirks at her slightly, crawling down and brushing his lips over her scar, kissing the raised skin softly. He grinned when he heard a small whimper pass her lips, “My strong, bad-ass woman. And I will spend the rest of my life kissing this scar so when you look at it, you only think of me.”

Chapter Five -

Bucky did as he said, he kept kissing along her scar that rested on her hip. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his head upwards so that she was looking into his eyes. His eyes locked onto her’s and he had never felt so calm yet so on fire all at the same time. He lifted a hand to brush the skin on her cheek, watching her shiver slightly at the touch of his cold vibranium fingers.

Y/N bit her lip as she watched Bucky above her, studying his features. It was odd, she had never felt this way before when a man had looked at her. She could blame it all on her soulmate bond to him but the way he looked at her like she was the most beautiful creature he’d laid eyes on made her stomach fill with butterflies that she long thought had shriveled up and died in her stomach. Her attention broke from him when she hears her phone ringing. Y/N quickly shimmied herself out from under Bucky’s muscular frame and pulled her phone out of her pocket, pressing it to her ear, “Weasel, I thought you kicked me out.” She said into the speaker with a smile, listening to Weasel talk on the other end, “No, of course I want a job. I’ll come by and collect the card.” She said then snaps the phone shut.

Bucky adjusted on the bed to lay on his side, watching Y/N talk on the phone. Of course, he had heard every word from the other side of the speaker. Bucky couldn’t help but feel like the moment they are having was ruined, but he knew it’d take a little bit for Y/N to get comfortable with the fact she had a soulmate. He slowly stood up, watching her curiously, “I don’t know if taking a job is the best thing to do right now. Wouldn’t want to cause a scene that could lead your brother right to you.” He said, walking closer to her.

Y/N watched Bucky walk towards her, smiling a little at his words, “Oh no, wouldn’t want that.” She told him, placing the phone back into her pocket, “You coming or not?” She asks as she stepped around him and walked towards his bedroom door.

“Where are we going?” Bucky asks, following her closely as he shrugged his leather jacket back on over his shoulders.

“To do a job and cause a scene.” Y/N replied mischievously.

As much as Bucky thought this was the wrong decision, he felt he already knew Y/N well enough to know there wasn’t going to be much of an argument and she was going to do what she wanted so he may as well stick around to protect her. Bucky led her to the garage where he swung his legs over his motorcycle, watching as she straddled his bike behind him. His grin grew when he felt her arms wrap around her waist, “Hold on, doll.”

Y/N rolled her eyes slightly, “Not my first time I’ve been on a motorcycle, lover boy. Let’s go.” She said softly into the back of his ear, smiling when the bike roared to life and they zoomed out of the facility and down the long driveway. It didn’t take long for them to arrive outside of Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children. Y/N slid off the back of the bike, “Stay here, I won’t be long. This is the only entrance anyhow so you might as well play look out.” She told him before disappearing through the doors. Y/N stood at the end of the bar, quickly catching the attention of Weasel.

“Here’s your card.” Weasel said in a hushed voice, passing it over to Y/N and grabbing her out a beer to make it look like it was just a casual conversation, “You know what a gold card like that means.”

Y/N looked at Weasel suspiciously before slowly flipping the card over to reveal a name. The front of this card was different. Usually the cards were pure gold except for a small chip and a name, but this one had the chip, the name, and a red skull next to the name. Y/N quickly flipped the card back over and placed it on the bar with her palm, not wanting any wondering eyes to see it, “You seen him around lately?” The red skull signified it was a fellow mercenary to hunt down, and this name was one she recognized.

Weasel shook his head, “Hadn’t seen him for a while, but he did come around the night you went to the fancy gala. He was coming around asking for you. There’s a reason they assigned him to you and you can’t deny the job.”

Y/N nodded slowly, tucking the gold card slowly into the pocket of her jeans, looking at the wall of alcohol behind Weasel as she tried to think, “I know. I’ll take care of it.” She told him with a small smile before making her way back outside to Bucky.

“How was it?” Bucky asks when he sees her. He could feel the emotions running through her body, the conflict of whatever happened inside. It made him want to be there for her, help her through whatever was going through her brain.

Y/N ran her fingers through her hair slowly as she looked at Bucky before around him, “The job I’ve been assigned comes from the top. It’s a kill hit on another mercenary.” She told him, folding her arms across her chest and biting her lip.

Bucky’s brown furrowed a little bit. He could tell this job was already bothering Y/N but he couldn’t figure out exactly why, “Who is it? You know ‘em?” He asks, moving from leaning against his bike to stand in front of her.

Y/N scrunched her nose and closed one eye as she looked at him, “He’s an ex of mine, another mercenary. He got into some trouble with those who hire us and needs to be taken care of.” She said, watching Bucky’s face stay the same but those eyes… they flashed with what she could only assume was jealousy, “I hope you’re not the jealous type.” She teased with a small smile.

Bucky rolls his eye at her comment, folding his arms across his chest, “I’m sure there’s a reason he’s an ex, doll.” He told her, walking towards her until he was towering over her, looking down into her eyes with a crooked grin, “And if there isn’t, I’ll be that reason.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words, licking her top lip lightly, “I can feel the jealousy dripping from you already. You probably shouldn’t come along.” She told him, standing up on her toes so she could brush her lips against his lightly before turning on her heels and starting to walk down the street, “I’ll catch up with you later.” She said to him over her shoulder.

Bucky frowned. She was a tease and although he liked the game of cat and mouse with her, he wasn’t about to just let her go on a job with an ex that happened to be a fellow mercenary. Bucky was a lot of things but Y/N brought out the sides of him he didn’t know existed. She brought out a protective, almost possessive side that he couldn’t shake. Not when it came to her. He quickly swung his legs back over his motorcycle, bringing it to life and slowly riding it alongside Y/N as she walked, “C’mon, doll. At least let me give you a ride.”

Y/N continued her pace until she looked over towards him. God dammit… those blue eyes just sucked her right in. She stopped and nodded, “Fine.” She said and hung her legs over behind him, gripping onto his waist, “But you should still wait outside when we get there. Head straight down this street for two miles then make a left.”

Bucky grinned at her touch of her arms wrapping around his waist. This felt right, the two of their bodies touching made his heart skip a beat. Fuck, he was done when it came to her. He would follow her to the ends of the earth without even a second thought. Bucky followed her directions, pulling up outside a club. He had seen this club a few times, it had a bad reputation for where the big, bad, and ugly partied. He stiffened a little as Y/N got off his motorcycle, feeling uneasy about the whole thing, “You think this is where he is?”

Y/N turned and looked to Bucky who still sat on his motorcycle, “Yeah, we used to come here to party after jobs. If we weren’t at Sister Margaret’s, we were here.” She told him, then tilts her head, “You have a knife?”

Bucky nodded towards her request, pulling one of his black knives from a sheath around his ankle and passed it to her. He raised an eyebrow as he watched Y/N cut the fabric on her tank top, leaving it to hang around the bottom of her breasts before working on her black jeans next, cutting them into shorts. Now it was clinking on why she wanted him to wait outside, Y/N was going to have to put on her sex appeal game to deal with this job, “I’m definitely coming in.”

Y/N chuckles a little, throwing the cut fabric into a trash can outside the club doors, “Alright, but be a good boy and keep some distance.” She told Bucky, watching as he swung his legs off the motorcycle and follow her into the club. She gave a glance to the bouncer who opened the locked door for her, letting Bucky and herself into the dark club. There were red lights flashing and the club was filled with bodies who were dancing, drinking, and fighting in a boxing ring set in the middle. She glanced over to Bucky, “Don’t get into trouble.” She told him before slipping away through the crowd.

Although she had slipped away, Bucky managed to walk himself over to the bar and keep an eye on her movement. She was running her fingers through her hair, causing it to fluff and tangle a little as she made her way to the dance floor, smiling and swinging her hips. Bucky ordered a beer from the bartender and leaned his back against the bar, watching her. How he envied the men who tried to come and dance with her, pressing their hips to her’s and running their hands up her body. It made him deeply jealous, wanting him to be the only one that touched her like that. He would have to erase every touch another man has given her. It all came to a pause though when a tall, muscular, dark haired man pushed the other man out of the way and placed his hands on Y/N’s waist, leaning his head down onto her shoulder like he was whispering something in her ear. Bucky could hear everything they were saying to each other due to his enhanced abilities even over the roaring of the music.

Y/N looked at the new man touching her, recognizing him instantly. He was her ex, the name on the card she had been handed. Blake Michaels. She slowly wrapped her arms up and around the back of his neck, pushing her body to his as he whispered in her ear.

“What’re you doin’ here, sweetheart?” Blake groaned out into her ear, a smirk playing on his pink lips.

Y/N shrugged, a smile set on her lips, “What? Like I can’t have a good time without you?” She purred out to him, pulling him closer by her grip on the back of his neck.

Blake chuckled at her response, moving his hands down to her ass and picking her up to wrap her legs around his waist. He started carrying her off the dance floor and to the bathroom. Once they were inside, he sat her on the counter by the sinks, “I heard you had a soulmate now.” He told her with a crooked grin, eyeing her heavily tattooed arm.

Y/N shrugged, looking at her tattoo. It burned slightly at the touch of another man who wasn’t Bucky but she ignored it, “You know how I feel about soulmates.” She told Blake, tilting her head at him, “I heard you found yours too.”

Blake chuckled darkly, running a hand through his hair before placing it on the mirror behind Y/N, cornering her in, “I did. She’s six feet under now though, couldn’t have her getting in the way. Soulmates make you weak.”

Y/N took a deep breath at his closeness to her, his face was inches away from her. And even though it was a man she had spent a lot of time with in situations like this one, her body was telling her it was wrong and uncomfortable, “Why are you here, Blake?”

Blake grinned at her, “I think you know the answer to that.” He told Y/N before moving one hand to grip her neck while the other stayed planted against the mirror, “You’re not the only one that got a card.” The hand on the mirror moved to his pocket, pulling out a gold card with Y/N’s name on it and a red skull, “Gemini wants a chat.”

Y/N swallowed hard against the grasp on her throat, eyes widening a little at the card before she put on an emotionless face. Showing no emotion was one of the first things they taught you in The Red Room Academy. She moved one of her legs from around his waist to push her foot against his chest, trying to push him away from her. When she couldn’t get away, she moved her foot up further to kick him in the nose, causing him to stumble back. Y/N stood from the bathroom counter, cracking her neck as she looked at Blake’s bleeding nose, “I have no intention of seeing him.” She hissed out, moving her head out of the way when he threw a punch. She circled behind him and kicked him head first into the bathroom counter before walking towards him, pulling her arm back to throw another punch but was met with a kick to the stomach, causing her back to hit the stall behind her as a small groan passed her lips.

Blake grinned down at Y/N, crossing over to her before she could stand and pinning her down with one foot to her chest. He leaned himself down to look at her face, tilting his head as blood from his nose dripped down onto her stomach and what was left of her white tank top, “Gemini said to bring you back alive… He didn’t say anything about bringing you back unharmed.” He told her as he pulled out a knife, flicking the blade out and throwing it into her shoulder.

It didn’t take long after that until Bucky came flying through the bathroom door, feeling Y/N’s sudden pain and hearing some type of commotion in the bathroom. His eyes darkened as he saw Blake with his foot on Y/N’s chest and a the knife sticking out of her shoulder. His angry gaze set on Blake, walking towards him and grabbing onto his throat with his vibranium arm that made mechanical noises as it moved. Bucky slammed Blake against the wall, holding him high enough off the floor that his feet were dangling above the floor. Bucky couldn’t find words, the only thing he was seeing was white hot rage.

Y/N got up, pulling the knife out of her shoulder and twisting it in her fingers. She walks over and puts one hand on Bucky’s arm, “I got this, it’s okay.” She said softly to him, knowing her words and touch would calm him. She watched Bucky drop Blake to the floor, stepping back a little with a look towards Y/N. She nodded at him then focused her gaze back on Blake who was getting to his feet, “Blake, meet my soulmate.” She said to him, twisting the knife in her fingers again.

Blake’s eyes flickered between Bucky and Y/N, a smirk appearing on his lips, “Little bit of a damaged good if I have to say so myself. Does he just stare?” He teased and looked back to Y/N.

Y/N shrugs slightly, “He likes to stare. Sort of his thing.” She replied before advancing, swinging the knife that only connected every few swipes. Blake knew a lot of her movements from their time together and easily blocked most of them, even landing a few himself. Y/N gripped onto his arm, dropping the knife from her grip as she crawled on top of him, wrapping her legs around his shoulders and landing elbows to his head as he slammed her back against the walls trying to get her off. She adjusts herself on his shoulders, slipping down a little so she could wrap one arm around his throat and the other on the top of his head. As Blake flailed around trying to get her off of him, he turned his neck which was what Y/N was waiting for. When he moved his neck, the hand on her head gripped the side of his face and pulled his neck further one way while her other arm pushed his neck the other way. One snap, and Blake was on the floor and Y/N caught herself on the wall so she wouldn’t fall.

Bucky watched the fight ensue, wanting to help but knew Y/N had it covered. Once he watched Blake fall to the floor dead with a snap of his neck, Bucky’s eyes flashed to Y/N and helped hold her up, “You alright?” He asks before continuing, “You shouldn’t of killed him. We should’ve brought him back to the facility.”

Y/N looked at Bucky, frowning a little, “The job was to kill him, Bucky. I know that’s not you anymore but you don’t know what he’s done. If his name appeared on the card, it was for a good reason.” She told him, pushing herself out of his grasp and leaning down to Blake’s body, pulling the gold card with her name out of his pocket, “Besides, he had my name also from Gemini. He wouldn’t of stopped until the job was done and anybody who works for my brother deserves death.”

Bucky’s grow furrowed at the card, seeing Y/N’s name on it, “Well, we should probably get out of here. Don’t want to be the ones standing over a body.” He said, remembering suddenly Y/N’s wound to her shoulder. He stepped forward and put his hand over it, pushing slightly to put some pressure on it.

Y/N leaned into his grip, “Yeah, probably should go. I mean, the body won’t matter. Someone always winds up dead in the bathroom here anyway.” She chuckles a little, slumping against him slightly as the adrenaline left her body.

Bucky wraps his arm around Y/N’s waist, helping her out of the bathroom and walking her out of the club. Nobody even glanced twice at the blood that spattered on Y/N, it was a regular thing at this club for someone to end up battered. Bucky helped her onto his bike, making sure she was secure around him before zooming back towards the facility. Once they were back inside, he immediately led her to the med bay where she sat on the counter while Bucky examined her wound, stitching slowly, “I could’ve helped you.” He said, breaking the silence.

“It wasn’t your job.” Y/N replied, her face unmoving as the needle threaded through her skin. She watched Bucky closely, he was so focused on her wound but she could tell there was something hiding behind his eyes.

Bucky finished the last stitch, setting down the needle and finally meeting her gaze, “I’m your soulmate, Y/N.” He said to her, “That may not mean much to you but it means everything to me. Do you know how long I’ve waited for you? I thought I was going to be alone forever, losing out on the only thing that I thought could bring me even an ounce of happiness.” His voice was growing more bitter with every word, slowly standing so he towered over Y/N as she sat, “You’re my soulmate. I feel everything you do. Your pain, grief, rage. I feel all of that. And I know you feel something for me… It may not be love, but it’s something. I feel it. So why can’t you just let me help you?”

Y/N bit her lip as she listened to him, feeling the honesty in his words. She took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair slowly as her gaze set on his eyes… Those hypnotizing puddles of blue that made her stomach twist in a way that wasn’t sick, but warm. She pulled her eyes away, looking at her hands, “I’m sorry, Bucky.” She said softly, honestly, “I know I’m not the best soulmate. I’m sure you were expecting instant sparks and love-doviness all around. I was trained to resist the soulmate bond.” She told him, returning her eyes to his as she watched a hint of sadness appear behind them, “But I do feel something for you. And I don’t want to resist it.”

Those words were all Bucky needed to hear. Some sort of acknowledgement of their bond was enough for him to step closer, positioning himself between her legs as she sat on the table in front of him. His vibranium hand moved to rest on the back of her neck, pulling her face close to his until their lips met. He groaned a little feeling her kiss him back, slipping his tongue between her parted lips. There it was. There was that spark he had been waiting for from Y/N. His flesh hand moved down her back, pulling her forward until she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist to not slip off the edge. He separated his lips from her’s, kissing down her jaw and to her neck, smiling when he heard Y/N breathe out his name as she craved more of his touch, “I’m gonna rip your stitches if I keep going, doll.” He breathed out between kisses to Y/N’s neck.

Y/N didn’t care, her fingers snaking up into his hair and letting out deep breathes as every touch of his felt like fire on her skin, igniting a fire within her she long thought had been extinguished, “You can just stitch it up again later…” She responds, a small moan passing her lips when he kissed the crook of her neck.

Bucky pulls himself away from her, looking at her figure. She still had blood on her shirt and skin and suddenly a thought came into his head and he grinned, “C’mon darlin. I’ll get you cleaned up.” He picked her up, keeping her legs wrapped around his waist. His breath kept hitching when he felt Y/N press her face into his neck, leaving small kisses and love bites along his skin. Bucky didn’t waste anytime carrying her to the elevator, clicking the button to the floor with his room on it. Once the doors opened, he immediately made his way down the hallway passing Sam and Natasha on the way who just stared at them until Bucky was in his room with the door slamming behind him. He walked her right into his bathroom, sitting her on the counter and separated his body from hers, grinning at her as he stepped into his shower and turned it on before returning in front of Y/N. He peeled off his shirt slowly, his dog tags jingling with the movement and dropping to his bare chest once he was freed of his shirt.

Y/N tilted her head and smiled at him as she saw his bare chest. She bit her bottom lip and reached out a leg to wrap around the back of his thigh, pulling him closer to her body again. She ran her hands up his muscular figure, watching him shiver a little at her touch. She leans up against him, pressing her lips against his chest softly.

Bucky groaned at her touch, he couldn’t help it. She was so intoxicating to him with every touch. He pushed her away gently, slowly lifting Y/N’s shirt off of her gently as to not disturb the wound he had just stitched. He grinned at her before dropping his hands to his jeans, undoing his belt and zipper and pushing them down around his ankles and stepping out of the clothing to be left in his boxers. He quickly disappeared behind the glass of the shower that had steamed up before throwing the boxers up over the top to land beside Y/N on the counter, “You coming or what, doll?”

Y/N laughs a little, licking her lips as she did. She scoots herself off the counter and quickly freed herself from the rest of her clothing before slipping into the shower with Bucky. Her body was immediately pressed against the tile wall by his muscular frame, causing her to gasp a little. She could feel all of his skin against her’s and it was electrifying. She pushed her chest up against his, smiling as she heard a small groan pass his lips again. It was like music to her ears, a sound she wanted to hear over and over again.

Bucky ran his hands over Y/N’s bare body, familiarizing himself with every part of her skin. His vibranium hand rested against her breast as the other trailed down her stomach until he found between her legs, grinning as he felt her already wet and not from the water, “Mhm, doll.” He whispers as he pressed his lips to her’s, “You’re already ready for me?”

Y/N whimpers against his lips at his words as his flesh hand slowly entered between her folds, making her hips thrust up against his. She could feel his hard length on her hip, making her wiggle with want. Even though he slipped another finger into her entrance, that wasn’t enough. She wanted more of him. Her body wanted all of him, “Please Bucky…” She moans out, her voice echoing against the shower walls.

Bucky moved his kisses along her jaw. He knew he was driving her wild by the way her hips pressed against his in want and the way her wet walls ached around his finger’s, “All you had to do was ask, pretty girl.” He purred out to her, pulling his fingers out from her core. He quickly lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist as he pressed her back to the tile wall, lining his thick member up with her entrance and letting out a deep breath as he felt her slick on his tip. He slowly slid himself into her, pulling his face away from her’s so he could watch Y/N’s features twist in pleasure as he inched his way deep into her core. Once he was all the way in, he stilled feeling her walls pulse around his cock and adjust to his size.

Y/N tilted her head back as he stilled inside her, even just him unmoving was enough to send her over the edge. That coil in her stomach tightened painfully, causing her to whimper out Bucky’s name between pleads of him to move inside her.

“Mhm… You want me to move, darlin?” Bucky asks, grinning at the sight of her pleading with him as his name passed her lips. Since he had met Y/N, he had never seen her plead with anybody or fall apart into a submissive state and seeing her like this and knowing he was the cause of it was driving him wild. He slowly started to thrust in and out of her, watching her breasts bounce against his chest gently with every thrust. God she was beautiful, but even more gorgeous with her naked body pressed against his. His own groans mixed with the sweet sounds that passed Y/N’s lips as he quickened his pace until his hips were slamming against hers, thrusting into her as deep as he could.

Y/N was letting out gasps and loud moans between deep breaths at his thrusts. Nobody had made her feel this good before, pushing her off the edge so quickly. She could blame it on the soulmate bond, the want their bodies needed to be like this but she knew this pleasure was just pure Bucky. Her hands gripped onto his shoulders, her nails leaving small crescent shapes as she gripped onto him, “Oh fuck….” She hissed out when he hit the right spot inside of her, causing her to fall of the edge in an orgasm. She slumped slightly against his chest, leaning her head on his shoulder as she whimpered out.

Bucky let out a loud groan when he felt Y/N release on him but didn’t slow his pace, “So good… Exactly made for me…” He thrust into her quickly a few more times before setting her down on her feet, pulling out of her slowly. He moved his hands to her waist, quickly turning her around against the tile wall. One of his hands trailed down her waist until it was behind her knee, forcing it up against the wall as he positioned himself back to her slick entrance from behind, pushing himself back in with one swift thrust. He growled slightly as he placed his forehead on the back of Y/N’s shoulder, nipping at her skin as he thrust fast and hard into her until he felt her walls clench against him, knowing she was close again.

Y/N gasped as the cold tile pressed against her chest, then the gasp turned into a loud moan when he slid back into her. Her body shook against his as he thrust into her making her body almost collapse against the wall if it wasn’t for Bucky pinning her there. Her body crumbled as her second orgasm peaked, arching her back against the wall and throwing her head back into a soft scream of pleasure.

Bucky smiled against Y/N’s skin as she came again, thrusting deep into her before pulling out, his thick white, hot strands landing on Y/N’s thigh and dripping down onto the tile floor. He quickly turned her around, watching her eyes roll slightly back as her body shook with pleasure. He held her upright until the ripples in her body passed, kissing all over her face gently trying to bring her back from her high, “Bet nobody’s done that to you before, doll.” He teased out with a chuckle, “So good you gotta take a break?”

Y/N breathed deeply, catching her breath and laughing a little at his comments, “I knew you were the jealous type… I know you were thinking of erasing every trace of Blake from my body.” She teased back knowingly. She could feel what he was thinking when they were at the club when Blake’s hands were all over her, jealousy and possession dripped off him when it came to her. She slowly pushed him away from her, “At least you don’t have to stitch me up again.” She said softly, looking at her shoulder that had remained stitched shut before looking up to Bucky with a smile, “Let’s get cleaned up. Sex always makes me hungry, but great sex makes me ravenous.”

After Y/N and Bucky finished their shower together and got dressed, they walked out into the kitchen where Sam and Natasha were sitting. Sam had a scowl on his face towards Bucky, “Man, my room is right next to yours. And the shower echoes.” He hissed out.

Y/N laughs a little and rolls her eyes before Bucky could speak, “Hey, I was ready to go in the med-bay. At least we made it to the shower so everybody didn’t get a show.” She snapped back with a smile as Natasha started dying in laughter.

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle, sneaking his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulling her closer as he kissed her temple softly. Now, Y/N was his and he wasn’t going to let her go. Their bodies were like one, each other could feel everything the other felt physically and mentally. Bucky got what he always wanted, a deeper connection with someone and nobody was more perfect for him than Y/N. For once he found himself thanking the world and all the things it had done to him just to lead him to Y/N.

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Taglist: @vibraniumqueen @thatoneperson5000 @dude-whatawave @buckypops @tanyaherondale

If I missed anybody on the taglist or you would like to be added, please let me know (: Thank you for the support!

[thewritingstar]

Ignite

SoMa Week 2021 Day One: Burn 

Pairing: SoMa (Soul x Maka)

Fandom: Soul Eater 

Note: This is my first time participating in SoXa week! Also its my finals week so im stressed about tests and my second vaccine dose is kicking my butt but I thought instead of studying, lets write a fic. I’ve been really into soul eater recently and started the manga, so you’ll see some new fics for it here and there. Anyways, enjoy! 

@soulxmakaweek

---

Her view of love had burnt out a long time ago. She was hopeful at times to think someone could be loyal and love her for eternity but that fear of being left behind and abandoned again would destroy any hope of that. 

She had thought it was written in stone. From a young age she didn’t think about marriage, didn’t care about relationships because she wasn’t willing to risk the burn marks on her heart for just a sliver of satisfaction. There was nothing anyone could say to her to change her mind, she knew that, more importantly, he knew that. 

But slowly that mindset started to challenge her heart. The moment she asked Soul to be her partner when they were teenagers, she felt a spark. It was small and only lasted a fraction of a second when he said yes and gave her a smirk she dared not say she liked. For a moment she had forgotten about her pact, never fall in love, but it came back quickly as it left. 

She repeated those words more frequently than not. The mirror had begun to memorize the movement of her lips as she looked at herself and scolded anything that remotely resembled a romantic interest. 

Every so often a brave boy would come up to her with a card and some flowers and try his hand at Maka’s heart. She would be as kind as possible to turn them down but she never missed the way Soul’s lips turned up into a smirk. Soon she was seen as untouchable, no one could woo her or they would be too threatened by Soul to even try. 

It was a relief to Soul to see boys not trying to win over Maka but a part of him wondered if she would ever let herself fall for anyone. 

--

“Do we really have to go to this dance?” Soul grumbled as he fixed his tie for the tenth time. 

Maka sighed from the bathroom. “Yes Soul. Its our duty as successful students to make an appearance. Plus I heard that there is going to be good food.” 

Soul rolled his eyes as he plopped onto the couch. “Its been five years since we graduated, do people even care about us?” He smirked as he heard her scoff from the hallway. 

“No, Im sure no one cares about the current death weapon or the amazing person who not only made said weapon but is also one of the best teachers at the academy.” 

“Relax Maka, I’m just teasing. Now hurry up or we are gonna be late and I am not about to be scolded by Kid for that.” 

“Alright.” She huffed and finished her makeup with a swipe of lip gloss. “I’m coming. How do I look?” She asked. 

It was a simple question, one he was used to answering often with a “fine. good. who cares, lets go.” But lately he's been trying to hold in his actual thoughts. 

Maka stared at him, those olive green eyes that he became more attracted to lately. There was an untacked about chemistry that had been hovering around them for the past few years and slowly, he was loosing the battle on keeping it in place. 

Her dress was black with off the shoulder sleeves and cut off mid-thigh. Something classy and elegant but still fun to twirl in. Her heels boosted her to his eye level and her hair was up in an updo with some blonde framing her face.

“Soul?” She asked him and he cleared his throat before grabbing his keys. 

“Uh, you look perfect. We should really be going.” Way to be cool about it, he scolded himself.  

Maka grabbed her purse and followed him out the door. Deep down she could feel a small spark of desire flare but quickly, she pushed it down and got into the car. 

--

The dance was nothing less than perfection. Every dish, napkin, balloon and streamer was in a proper place with symmetry as its main function. Kid apparently had spent a week decorating the place himself just to insure that it was nothing less than his standards. 

“He really out did himself, huh?” Soul commented as he looked around the room. 

“He sure did.” Maka said. 

There were a mix of students and faculty on the dance floor already. Kid was standing towards the back with Black Star while Tsubaki, Patty and Liz were chatting near them. 

“It brings me back to when you forced me to these thing when we were kids.” Soul said as they made their way across the room. 

Maka laughed. “Guess things haven’t changed much.” 

They parted ways, Soul going towards the guys and Maka joining the girls. 

“Oh Maka you look so cute!” Patty complimented her. 

Maka smiled. “You all look so good too.” 

Liz finished her drink before looking towards the boys. “I bet Soul likes this number on you.” She winked and Maka took a glass on a near by tray and gulped it down. 

“Aww don’t tease the clueless love birds.” Tsubaki giggled. 

“There nothing to tell.” Maka tried to reason but none of the girls believed her for a moment. “I’m not even his type.” She rushed out and Liz almost started to choke on her drink. 

“Are you kidding? The smartest girl in the school, no the city and she's dumb as a rock when it comes to the love sick scythe.” 

Maka swatted Liz’s arm and rolled her eyes. Behind her she heard someone clear their throat. 

“Maka?” 

She turned to see Peter, a fellow teacher who specialized in weapon training of the lower grade levels. 

“Oh hi Peter, how are you?” Maka greeted and the rest of the girls waved politely. 

“Good. I was wondering if you wanted to dance maybe?” He asked.

She expected to hear the girls snickering and giggling but instead she was met with silence and a smug cough from Liz.

“Oh, uh.” She started. 

“Come on, it will be fun.” He said and took her hand, pulling her to the dance floor without giving her a chance. 

A small squeak escaped her lips as she almost crashed into his chest. His hands found their way to her hips as he swayed to the music. Although she had always found their conversations nice and refreshing, he wasn’t the type of man that was, well, her type. 

“You know Maka, I’ve always admired you.” He said. 

She looked up at him and offered a polite smile. “Oh really?” 

“So brave and smart, makes sense that the top teacher was also the top student.” 

She laughed slightly. “Well I couldn’t have done it without my partner.” 

Peter quickly caught his frown. “Yeah, Soul. Nice dude.” 

“He likes to consider himself a ride or die.” She smiled to herself. 

Peter grunted something she couldn’t make out and spun her around. She saw Soul walking towards the balcony doors just as she came back to Peter’s front. 

“Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me, you know, like a date?” 

Maka stopped in her tracks. Date. No. She didn’t want that. She gave up on that a long time ago. 

“Look Peter, you’re a nice guy and I have a great time working with you, but I’m just not looking for anything.” 

“Oh. I just thought you and I we're getting to be good friends.” 

“Well I like chatting with you and grading stuff but I really am not into dating right now. Sorry.” 

“I get it, Soul would be jealous.” He scoffed and stepped back. “ I should have listened.” 

“Listened to what?” She demanded.

He had the audacity to smile at her. “Oh please. Ever since school, everyone knew that it was you and Soul. I just thought that since nothing has happened yet, you would be on the market.” 

That rubbed her the wrong way and her face turned sour. 

“Well sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not some slab of meat. See you on Monday.” She scoffed and walked away from him. Instead of going back to her friends, she stormed towards the balcony and greeted the cool air to help calm her down. 

“That was quick.” Soul teased and he held out his hand to help her up, making sure her dress didn’t get caught. 

“Quick enough for a dance just to ask me out and get mad when I said no.”  

Soul turned towards her. “Oh? Another ego bruised?” 

“He said he had been waiting for me to be on the market.” She spat. “Disgusting behavior.” 

Soul let out a laugh and threw his arm over her shoulder. “Men are stupid, you’re smart to not go near them.” 

“You’re not stupid, most of the time.” She mumbled. 

“The difference between me and those guys is I’ve had my ass handed to me by you. I know not to mess with the bull. Plus, I actually have respect for you and women, like a cool person should.” 

“Yeah. He then said that you would be jealous.” 

They watched the sun begin to set slowly. Sometimes Maka wondered what it would feel like to be the sun. Eternal warmth. Being a constant in peoples lives. She looked to Soul who seemed a little lost in thought. That spark coming to the surface and she wondered why she didn’t allow herself to what she wanted.

For years she had made sure that their partnership never faltered from that.  She couldn’t risk anything happening to them because she wasn’t sure if she would be able to trust another weapon the way she did with him. She also didn’t want to partner with anyone else. 

She enjoyed his company. Enjoyed the way that he could make her smile and feel comfortable. Most importantly, he stuck to his word. She never once felt like he would leave and when he said he was going to be there, she believed him. 

Sometimes she wished she could just scream at him and tell him that she had been in love with him for years. That her talks about marriage and love never once applied to him and if he asked, she would be his forever. 

“I think he's right.” Soul started. “Its always been you and me. I probably wouldn’t like the attention taken. Stupid, I know.” 

“Its not, because I think I know why no one else sparks my interest.” She took a breath and stared at him. Those crimson eyes that held a sense of comfort and form of love that was now crystal clear. “I don’t think anyone else comes close to how I see you. The stolen glances and walking on the eggshells of feelings I pushed down long ago. I get it now Soul. You never asked because you waited for me.” 

He let out a laugh from his chest and jumped down before offering his hand. “The moment I met you Maka? I knew we were end game, I was just hoping you saw it too.” 

When she looked at Soul, she could sense the last little flames igniting. She could have crushed them, put them out with the bottom of her shoe and never let them rise again. She could of finally removed all the pain her parents marriage caused her and not let anything happen to her heart. 

And when she thought that her idea of love was burnt to a crisp, she didn’t realize that those tiny embers had slowly grown into a burning fire. Only one person fanned the flames of her heart and she wonders why she couldn’t see it all those years ago. 

But instead she looked into his eyes and saw nothing but trust. His smile was genuine and there was a faint blush on his cheeks as he waited for her answer. Deep down the embers sparked as she took his hand and she felt the fire take over. 

She took his hand and he gently pulled her close until their noses touch and he placed a kiss on her knuckles. She could barely hear the music playing inside but it felt like a symphony was surrounding them. He began to hum a tune and stepped to lead her in their dance. 

She giggled as he twirled her. It felt freeing, it felt right, it was perfect. He brought her back to his chest and with a big smile, he looked down at her. 

“Maka?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Yes.” 

He pulled her close, taking her lips and kissing her just like he wanted to for as long as he could remember. Her lips were soft and he could feel the curl of her lips as she smiled against him. 

The fire within her erupted brighter than before. The sense of longing for another began to be fulfilled and any doubts she had began to shrink. Any doubts she had with Soul had been long gone. He was her constant, the person who was always there no matter what. She never had to ask or even say a word for him to be by her side. 

Her idea of love had been crushed when she had been a girl. She had thought that no one could change that. Perhaps she would spend her life not knowing what life could have been with a full heart. 

But as she held Soul close to her, it became clear that he was the one to hold the match to those embers. He was a reminder that love could exist and be devoted to another. 

He was the fire that burned in her heart and she gladly excepted the warmth. 

“Hey Soul?” She whispered against his lips. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” 

She didn’t think his smile could get any bigger as he told her the same and kissed her again. 

----

I hope you enjoyed :) 

[luxekook]

zero gravity ✰ namseok

✰ pairing: namjoon x hoseok x reader

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

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

✰ word count: 11k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you hear it.

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

“Fuck, give it to me harder.”

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

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

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

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

It’s those final thoughts that hurt the most.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok’s cheeks flood with color as he laughs lightly and replies with a slightly wistful look on his face, “Maybe someday, (y/n).” 

You let out an unamused huff, which only makes Hoseok laugh again. You glare at the happy boy and then stiffen as arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back against a warm body. “Morning, (y/n),” Namjoon murmurs into your hair, his fingers leaving a blazing heat on your skin as they drag across the swell of your hips. 

He turns your body around to face him, and you hesitantly bring your gaze up to his. God, he’s just as beautiful as Hoseok. Namjoon’s height had been the first thing that you noticed about him in the Academy. The second had been his dimples. You have been a goner for him ever since. 

Your eyes drift up past his strong thighs to his tapered waist, his toned chest, his tanned neck, and finally to rest on his warm brown eyes. “Hi,” He grins, those godforsaken dimples popping out to greet you, too.

“Hi,” You manage to reply, your heart constricting painfully in your chest.

Always too smart for his own good, Namjoon catches your mood immediately, “What’s wrong?”

“She didn’t sleep well,” Hoseok comes up next to Namjoon, throwing an arm around his shoulders. His frown is prominent as he stares down at you. Namjoon’s expression quickly matches Hoseok’s as he brings his hand to cup your chin, lifting your face up to look at you.

“Baby,” He murmurs, “Were you dreaming of that damned place again? I thought that had stopped for you.” 

You bristle under the weight of their inspections and from the pet name you now know means nothing. Namjoon is, of course, referring to your recurring nightmares from the Academy, and he is also inadvertently giving you the perfect excuse not to come clean about the real reason for your fitful night.

And so you nod as best you can with Namjoon’s hand cupping your chin, and the boys exchange a long look. Hoseok turns to you, “Go rest today. Namjoon and I can handle things. Okay, lovely?”

You turn away, forcing Namjoon to drop his hand. “I need to plan out a potential deal on Naroxu,” You mutter in disagreement, “I’ll be fine.”

“Naroxu?” Namjoon bites out, “(y/n), we talked about this.” You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Sometimes it feels like you're not the captain of your own ship. And it is exasperating.

“You know what?” You grab your coffee, brushing past the boys, “I think I will go rest after all. Don’t disturb me, okay?”

“But (y/n)—!” You leave them in your dust. Of course you should have realized they would have a problem with Naroxu. It’s a planet just as lawless as Xyreus, but it’s focus is more on the carnal sort of chaos. You aren’t unaware of the dangers that lay within the pleasures on Naroxu; you’re just unfazed by them.

Apparently, Namjoon and Hoseok feel differently. Your boys can argue with you about anything in the name of “safety”. You’ll definitely need to make certain that you’ll have a foolproof plan which leaves them with no room to argue. But, that is a bridge you shall cross another day...

A few days later, you realize that you definitely must have been oblivious to the relationship occurring right under your nose. There are signs of it everywhere - in the way they speak to one another, in the way their eyes linger, in the way their hands brush as they pass each other by.

You have not dared to venture out of your quarters late at night ever since that fateful discovery, but that doesn’t help. Your thoughts are constantly plagued by the sounds of their desire, their intimacy. Your mind conjures images that you can’t forget. You crave that. You want to be part of that passion with a desperation you have never felt before.

And so, you have accordingly descended into internal chaos, choosing to throw yourself into your plans instead of joking around with Namjoon and Hoseok in the common quarters like you usually do in your spare time.

They know something is up. It’s not like you haven’t spent almost three full years together. Knowing each others’ tendencies and habits is second nature. Well, clearly that knowledge has excluded intimate relationships - at least for you. 

The tip of your pencil snaps under the strength of your grip; and, when you look down to assess the damage, you sigh. All you have written down so far is: “Plan A: Go with Joon and Hobi. Plan B: Go without Joon and Hobi if they don’t like Plan A.”

Pushing your desk chair back, you stand and stretch out slightly. The rest of the logistics for the meeting are set. Now comes the hard part - convincing the boys to come along. It’s not that you can’t go alone; it’s that you feel better knowing you have two people watching your back, no matter how frustrating they might be.

Walking out of your quarters, you make your way towards the sounds of laughter and low voices coming from the control room.

“We really do have to tell her soon, Hobi.” You hear Namjoon say as you draw closer. Are they talking about you?

“I know, Joon. I’m just scared. I don’t want to lose her friendship.” Hoseok’s voice is small, barely above a whisper.

“You won’t, baby. Just think of how free we’ll be to share our love…” Your ears strain to hear them now, even as you get closer.

“...Leaving her.”

Your feet stop in their tracks. Leaving? Are they really thinking of leaving you? Your body sags against the wall, sliding to the floor. What would you do without them?

You guess you could recruit a new crew, but no one could replace Hoseok and Namjoon. Not when they’ve been with you through everything. Not when they’ve accepted you for who you are. Not when they’ve become your life.

You allow yourself to sit for a moment. And then you collect yourself, shoving your useless emotions down to the pit of your stomach. You just need to move forward and enjoy every last second with your boys before they go. Because they would leave you, and you would let them go because you love them.

Standing, you make sure to make louder footfalls then normal to alert Hoseok and Namjoon of your incoming presence. Sure enough, the minute you step into the control room Hoseok tackles you in a hug.

“(y/n)!” He picks you up and swings you around, “I’ve missed you, lovely!”

You laugh despite your lungs being constricted by his tight embrace, “I saw you last night at dinner, you fool.”

Hoseok sets you down and jokingly pouts down at you, “But that was so long ago! You left me all alone with this one.” He juts his thumb out at Namjoon, “And you know how he can get.”

“Not as well as you,” You mumble under your breath.

“What was that?” Namjoon narrows his eyes, focused on you from his nearby stance leaning against the wall. His arms are crossed over his chest, the sleeves of his dark t-shirt straining against his biceps.

“Nothing,” You smile sweetly at him. “Hi, Joon, nice to see you, too.” 

Namjoon stares at you for a moment more and then sighs. Walking over to you, he pulls you close, “It is really nice to see you, baby.” That blasted nickname is going to lower you into an early grave. Indulging yourself with a short hug from Joon, you pull back and decide it's time to get down to business.

“Alright, let’s go over the plan for Naroxu.”

“(y/n)!” Namjoon shoves a hand through his hair, “I thought we scrapped that idea. That planet is on our ‘no-go’ list!”

“Naroxu is dangerous, lovely,” Hoseok’s wide eyes bore into you, “Please think this through.”

“You scrapped the idea,” You say to Namjoon, “I kept it. Besides, that ‘no-go’ list was all you and Hoseok.” Turning to the boy you just named, you continue, “And I have thought this through. Extensively, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself, okay?”

You can tell they are getting pissed; but honestly, so are you. 

“We know you’re a ‘big girl’.” You do not appreciate Hoseok’s use of air quotes, but you allow him to continue because you’re gracious like that. “But there are tons of bad people on Naroxu who would love to chew you up and spit you out - physically and metaphorically speaking.”

“Gross, Hobi,” You scoff. “And before you both cast judgement, why don’t you give me a chance to explain the plan? You don’t even know who I’ll be meeting for gods' sake.”

The boys exchange a glance. “Fine,” Namjoon bites out, “But this won’t change my mind.”

Obviously, you think to yourself. Trying to get Joon to change his mind is like trying to get R.E.E.S.E. to delete the overwhelming amount of data she has dedicated to some group of musicians from Earth. Impossible, but you would always try anyways.

“Okay, so the contact that I’m meeting on Naroxu is Joohoney—”

“What?!”

“Joohoney from Monsta X?!”

“Oh my gods, will you let me finish?” You roll your eyes to the ceiling and plead with any higher power to help you find patience, “Yes, Joohoney from the Monsta X clan. How many other people in the galaxies go by that name?”

Hoseok opens his mouth to answer, and you cut him off, “That was a rhetorical question, Hobi.” He blushes, bottom lip sticking out slightly. 

“Anyway, we’re going to be meeting up at this space BDSM type sex club called Throbbing Disco Sticks. I’ll tell Joohoney what he wants to know, he’ll pay me, and we’ll bounce. Got it?”

You get nothing but silence. Looking at them, you notice the tightness of Namjoon’s jaw and the darkness in Hoseok’s gaze. 

“Oh, now you want to be quiet?” You push them, “Well, you can both stay here. I made a separate plan to go alone so—”

“Not happening,” Joon grits out, moving closer to you. “We made a pact, (y/n). Or have you forgotten?”

“Together or never,” Hobi recites and you almost laugh. It’s absurd that they bring this up when they had just been talking about leaving.

“Fine,” You shrug, “Then we leave at 2200. Hope you have something tight to wear.” With that, you stalk out of the control room. Their shouts follow you.

“Tonight?!”

“(y/n)!”

You grin. Maybe this will be fun after all.

Update: it is not fun after all. You only have twenty minutes left to get ready and you’re panicking. You had just made the mistake of asking R.E.E.S.E. to bring up pictures of Throbbing Disco Sticks and immediately had regretted all of your life decisions.

Is that why they named that club what they did? You think both you and R.E.E.S.E. are scarred from the unexpected amount of male genitalia that the search produced. Only after you add the addition of ‘Naroxu club’ do you get the results you’re looking for - mostly. 

You had just wanted some guidance on what to wear. Instead, your thoughts are now full of images of chained leashes, silk ropes, and dark rooms with blinds raised to welcome an audience. You wonder what sort of things happen in rooms like that and if you’d ever get a chance to try those things out.

Your tablet beeps, alerting you of your upcoming meeting. Taking one last glance in the mirror, you assess the way your tight leather pants accentuate your body and your slightly sheer black crop top hints at your lack of bra underneath. Still, your outfit is missing something… You think it over as you tug on your pointy black steel-toed heels.

Ah, you stand and make your way over to your trusty jewelry drawer. Of course. Carefully pulling out your body chain from its place, you drape it around yourself. The chain clasps around your neck and then falls lower between your breasts, settling around your waist. The coldness of the metal causes you to shiver, but the way the crystals embedded in the silver glisten as you turn to admire your final outfit makes it worth it. 

You keep your makeup minimal - just a red lip and a slash of black eyeliner. You want to blend in, not make a statement.

Finally, you tuck the map outlining the information Joohoney wants into your back pocket. Any bag you might bring would be searched, so you can do without one.

You take one last calming breath and make your way down the hall to meet the boys. “Hoseok, Namjoon: Are you ready?” You call as you don’t see any sign of them out in the common quarters.

“Coming!” Hoseok’s voice calls back to you and then he emerges from his quarters. 

You have to use all of your might not to let your jaw drop. It seems like he also had searched up what to wear because he looks like he stepped right out of the pictures you had seen just a half hour ago.

Hoseok is wearing tight dark jeans tucked into black combat boots that buckle up to the middle of his calves. What he isn't wearing is a shirt. Instead, a deep red leather harness is strapped across his chest with a silver hoop in the middle.

Did he just have that harness lying around? Gods save you.

While you are busy ogling Hoseok, you fail to notice him doing the same to you - so much so that he doesn't move an inch from his spot until Namjoon bursts out of his own quarters and bumps right into him.

At this point, you begin to sweat because Namjoon looks just as lethal as Hoseok in his light jeans, a black leather thigh harness, and a completely see through tight mesh t-shirt. You watch as he fiddles with the two leather cuffs circling his wrists.

“Hoseok, what are you doing?” Namjoon scowls, dropping his hands to his hips. Hobi says nothing and just points in your direction.

“Why are you pointing at me?” You huff, “Don’t blame me for being an idiot and just standing there practically waiting to get hit.”

Namjoon stalks towards you, eyes blazing into you as he takes in your outfit. “Change,” He orders.

He’s giving you orders? A burst of heat flares within you that you try to classify as anger but fail miserably. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Joon,” You fold your arms across your chest. Hoseok chokes as he comes up to stand next to Namjoon who is suddenly all up in your face.

“Go. Change.” Namjoon’s voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it.

“No.” You stand your ground. Why is he trying to dictate your clothing choices anyway? He’s not your father or your boyfriend - not that you’d let either of those people tell you what choices to make with your own body.

Namjoon turns to Hobi, who still hasn't uttered a word to you, and says lowly, “Go set the course to land on Naroxu.”

Hoseok practically runs off in the direction of the navigation deck. You gape after his fleeing figure and then turn back to face the fuming Namjoon.

“Listen,” You shove your finger into his admittedly toned chest, “I don’t know what has gotten into you, Kim. This outfit isn’t even that bad. Besides, you’ve seen me naked before. Remember?”

“You’re really going to ask me if I remember.” Namjoon’s face is inches from yours. His scent wraps around you and you have to collect yourself for a second. His eyes drop to your lips for a second so brief you believe you imagined it. “You’re really going to ask me that as if the image of your body isn’t burned into my memory and as if every single time I close my eyes I don’t see you.” Namjoon takes in a shaky breath, “And so, (y/n), I’m begging you. Please go change. Not for you, but for me. And for Hoseok.”

You’re at a loss as your brain scrambles to make sense of the words Namjoon just spoke. Okay, he does remember... So, is he mad that it happened? Or is he mad that it only happened once? Must be the first, you think. He has Hobi, after all.

“Maybe you two should stay back,” You suggest, patting Namjoon’s chest comfortingly, “Then you won’t have to look at me while I look like this. I’m sorry it brings up bad memories.”

Namjoon looks completely baffled, “What? What the hell are you talking about? Stop trying to get us to leave you alone!”

“Please,” You laugh without humor, “Like I have to try.”

This time, Namjoon just looks pissed. “Baby, that’s the second comment like that you’ve made today. And I’m getting the sense that you have something to say. So why don’t you just say it?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He is so onto you. 

Namjoon’s presence looms over you, making you feel so small. Your gaze drops to the floor, “I don’t have anything to say.”

“You’re lying. Hm, what a bad girl.” Your head snaps up, eyes wide as you try to slow the pounding of your heart and the increasing pressure between your thighs.

“Do you know what happens to bad girls, (y/n)?” Namjoon croons, eyes dark and locked on yours. You don’t even have the ability to respond, and so he just continues, “They get punished.”

A small whine bursts from your throat before you can stifle it back down. Namjoon’s smile in response is predatory.

“(y/n)! Namjoon! We’ve landed! Oh—” 

You and Namjoon turn to stare at Hoseok whose face shows a whole number of emotions in the blink of an eye. Hurt. Confusion. Lust?

All of a sudden, the ship feels too hot, and you need to get off. Ducking around Namjoon, you head towards the ship’s main door. You can hear them murmuring behind you, but you ignore them.

You need to get your shit together. It’s not good to get distracted on a job. It’s even worse to get distracted before said job even starts.

Practically punching the exit button, you tap your foot and wait for the door to open and the ramp to descend. 

“(y/n),” Hoseok calls to you, “Slow down! We need to talk to you!”

“No time,” You reply, stomping down the ship’s ramp. Barely taking a second to appreciate the beauty that is Naroxu, you power forward through the landing site. Ships of all kinds surround you. The night sky is a dark inky purple and Naroxu’s famed twin moons shimmer with swirls of silver. 

“Then make time!” Namjoon’s growly response sends a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the crisp night air. You increase your pace, heading towards where you hear thumping music and peels of laughter and murmured conversation. 

“Namjoon, you of all people should know that’s against the laws of physics,” You retort as you finally burst through the end of the landing site and into the crowded street dotted with neon signs and vendors of all sorts. 

“She’s so infuriating!” You hear him spit out behind you to Hobi, and you can't help the smile that winds its way across your face. At least you aren’t alone in your anger.

Finding Throbbing Disco Sticks is the easiest part of your night. You simply follow what looks like cylindrical sticks of shimmering glass mirrors spinning from atop a building. There’s a line that winds its way from the club’s doors and down the block. You quickly realize that your outfit is on the conservative side and grimace. You settle for tying your crop top higher on your waist so it hits right below your breasts. This is the best you can do.

“(y/n)!” Hoseok gasps from beside you as he realizes what you’ve just done, “Why are you torturing us like this?”

“Not this again,” You groan and decide that - fuck it - you’re going to name drop to bypass the line. It’s totally tacky, but you’re desperate at this point. Ignoring the hecklers amongst those waiting, you come to a stop in front of the two burly bouncers who are clearly Naroxuin natives with beautiful lilac skin and curling silver horns.

“Can I help you, little lady?” The slightly taller one addresses you, and you immediately swoon at the depth of his voice as it flows off his tongue like chocolate. Damn these sexy Naroxuins…

“I’m meeting an old friend,” You flash them your best smile, “And he doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Would you be able to let us in?”

Blinking your wide eyes up at the two bouncers, you watch as they exchange a short glance and then turn back to you. “Who’s your friend?” The other bouncer asks you, his sharp eyes assessing your figure.

“Jooheon,” You say, shrugging, “He usually goes by Joohoney.”

Their eyes grow large. “We didn’t know Joohoney had a pet,” The first bouncer comments, eyes flicking over your form, “But then again, you are quite delicious, aren’t you?”

A hand slips around your waist and grips it firmly, while another settles on the small of your back.

“Oh, does Joohoney share?” The second bouncer grins, his eyes turning to crescent moons as he stares at the hand digging into your hip. “I never would have guessed. Keep me in mind, would you, pet?”

“Oh, shut it, Jimin,” The taller bouncer laughs, “Like she’d ever pick you over me.”

“Fuck off, Tae,” Jimin glares, stepping aside to let you through. “Have a nice night, pet. You know where to find me.”

“And me!” Tae calls, laughing again as Jimin shoves him. 

You move along, shaking your head at the oddity of that encounter.

“I thought you were supposed to be keeping a low profile!” Namjoon hisses over to you as soon as you’re out of earshot of the two bouncers.

“Yeah,” Hoseok mutters, “Flirting usually doesn’t fall under the category of ‘low profile’.”

“Oh my gods,” You tug out of their holds, “I barely said two words to them! And I didn’t realize that flirting at a sex club would be completely out of the ordinary. Wow, lock me up!”

“Don’t fucking tempt me.” Namjoon’s response is immediate. Your breath hitches as he corners you close, “Now, go finish your little mission and we’ll settle this back on the ship, baby. And, believe me, it will be settled.”

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. You watch as Namjoon tugs Hoseok further down the corridor towards the main club area. “We’ll be watching!” Hoseok calls over his shoulder and shoots you a look you’re not even sure you want to interpret. And you can’t - not when you have a meeting to attend.

After grabbing a non-potent drink from the bar, you make your way around the crowded club. The dance floor is packed full of people of all shapes, sizes, and skin tones. You even see a few Uyiths with their glowing gold skin in the far corner, practically providing light for their whole area. 

The majority of the clubbers here seem to be experienced in the lifestyle. Many are collared or are the ones leading the collared. Others are unclaimed and waiting to be approached or to approach. You, however, are just trying to not be propositioned for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes.

“Well, aren’t you exquisite,” A low voice murmurs from your left.

“Not interested,” You say, sipping your drink and wishing you weren’t on a job so you could have something stronger.

“Your loss,” The man shrugs in your periphery before slinking away. At least this one had not been pushy like the last. You had to threaten to remove his balls using just the tip of your stiletto to get him to flee. You are so over it.

Hopping off of your barstool, you decide to explore the rest of the club while you wait for Joohoney. You try to ignore the heat from the two pairs of eyes glued to your every move. And then you duck into the dim hallway that you know leads to the individual rooms full of sin.

The first few have their blinds closed, much to the disappointment of your curiosity. However, the fourth room is fully on display. Only two others are gathered in front of the glass, paying close attention to the activities occurring on the other side. 

And what activities they are… You peer through the glass at the sight. A man is tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross, his arms and legs straining against the cuffs as a woman dressed in only a leather bustier runs her finger teasingly up and down his shaft. A second man lays beneath her, his face buried between her legs. Your attention returns to the man restrained.

What had he done to deserve such painfully pleasurable punishment? Had he done it on purpose?

As if he feels you staring at him, the man’s head lifts up and he meets your eyes. A small smile forms on his lips as he raises his chin to acknowledge you.

The woman turns to follow his gaze and raises an eyebrow at you. She hooks her finger in your direction, beckoning you to come inside. Almost subconsciously, you listen. But before you can take a step, a hand catches your wrist and tugs you back.

“What are you doing, lovely?” Hoseok’s voice jolts you from the scene that had captivated your attention. The woman in the room eyes you for a second more and then shrugs, returning to her other playthings. “You weren’t really thinking of joining them, were you?

“And so what if I was?” You reply petulantly. You cast a glance around you, noticing that the other couple watching had since disappeared and that there is no sight of Namjoon. “Where’s your other half?”

“My other half?” Hoseok’s nose crinkles adorably as he thinks, “Oh, you mean Joon? He’s taking care of something.”

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead, “He’s taking care of something? Why does that sound so sinister, Hobi?”

“It’s nothing to worry about, lovely,” Hoseok grins and then glances over your shoulder at the scene you had been watching. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

You, of course, turn immediately. The man is still tied, but now the other is sucking his dick as if his life depends on it while the woman watches with a small grin on her face. She holds a small device in her hand and is fiddling with its buttons. Then you notice the glimmering jewel that winks back at you from the ass of the man kneeling.

“It is… What do you think is hot about it?” You ask, as the tied man moans, throwing his head back and baring his throat. 

“All of it. The way she commands the room, the way the men please her, the way she tortures them. I don’t know who I’d rather be,” Hoseok lets out a small laugh, shoving a hand through his tousled hair, “Do you?”

“I’d want to be tied up,” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Hoseok’s breath hitches in his throat as his hands come down to clench your hips.

“(y/n), lovely, I’d want to see that, too,” His eyelids are heavy as he stares down at you. One of his hands travels lower on your body, palming your ass slightly.

“H-Hoseok,” You gasp, your back arching into his touch.

“Goddamn, lovely,” Hobi moans, “I thought I might never get to hear you say my name like that again.”

Your thighs clench as you vividly recall the memory not unlike this when Joon had eaten you out against the back wall of the club and then Hoseok had slid into you and fucked you until you couldn’t walk. You definitely had cried his name more times than you could ever count.

And this makes you so confused. Does this mean he had been wanting to hear you moaning his name again? That makes no sense considering he’s sleeping with Namjoon and planning to leave you.

Hoseok must read the thoughts on your face because he sighs, bringing your hand to his lips. “Later,” He promises - of what, you don’t know. He presses a kiss to your knuckles and then disappears back into the crowded club.

“Well, that was quite a show,” An amused man emerges from the shadows, “Just when I thought you might join the Mistress with Suga and Jin, you get caught up in another. How delightful.”

Sighing, you stick your hand out to greet your contact, “Hi, Joohoney. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Joohoney’s dimples flash at you as he grins and you internally melt. God, your thing for dimples is getting out of hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, pet. Please, call me Jooheon.” His hand grips yours firmly as he takes you in. You pay him the same regard, eyes wandering over his black long sleeve shirt with the sleeves pushed up his forearms. His shirt is tucked into slim fitting black pants and cinched with a belt that looks like it could also double as a harness. He looks expensive as hell.

And then what he says registers to you.

Groaning, you tug your hand out of his and grimace, “That wasn’t my fault! The bouncers just assumed, and I didn’t think to correct them.”

Jooheon’s grin turns wicked as he stares you down, “Oh, I’m not complaining. You can be my pet anytime you want, (y/n)…” He not-so-subtly flexes his wrist where a black choker with a silver ring in the center is wound around it twice, “This would look pretty around your neck, wouldn’t it?”

You struggle to find a response, your mouth opening and closing as you blink at the absurd turn your night has taken.

“Ah, don’t answer that. Let’s dance,” Jooheon smiles sweetly down at you like he hadn’t just asked to own you in every sexual way possible. 

So you agree, nodding slightly, and then he whisks you onto the dance floor. The music thumps through you as Jooheon drags you into the throng of the crowd. Looking around you, your eyes fall on your boys.

Hoseok and Namjoon are wrapped around each other, their bodies pressed together, hips grinding to the beat. Their eyes are both on you, their gazes absolute and piercing. Namjoon grasps Hoseok closer to him, his hands drawing the other boy further into his crotch. 

Are they really doing this right now? In front of you? While staring you down?

And so when Jooheon grabs your own hips to pull you back into him, you let him. The response from Hoseok and Namjoon is immediate. Namjoon’s nostrils flare as he watches you begin to shift your body in time with Jooheon’s. Hoseok’s tongue presses against the inside of his cheek as he glares over your shoulder.

“Looks like we’re making some people mad, pet,” Jooheon laughs, his lips brushing your ear. “Are you with them?”

You lean your head back to respond, “Technically, yes. They’re my crew.”

“Well, then why does your crew look like they want to fight me for putting my hands on you?”

“Oh, they’re just protective,” You reply, “They’re in a relationship anyway, as you can see.” You wave a hand over to where Hoseok and Namjoon are murmuring to each other, almost seeming to be mirroring you and Jooheon.

The motion of your hand recaptures their attention and you swear the movement of Namjoon’s lips produces the harsh phrase of ‘I’m gonna destroy him’.

You’re almost certain that Hoseok and Namjoon are about to blow your entire deal; you cannot have that happen. And so, you turn to Jooheon and ask if you can make the trade now. Luckily, he agrees and leads you through the crowd towards a door beside the bar along the far wall.

Before you step over the threshold, you turn back. Hoseok and Namjoon are steps away from you, looking pissed. And then you let the door fall shut behind you.

The trade deal goes down fairly quickly. You tug the map out of your back pocket; Jooheon places a few stacks of currency on the table. You count it first, of course. This isn’t your first space rodeo. 

Thankfully, Jooheon is true to his word and has the full amount ready for you. You then unfold the map you had drawn and begin to explain it in detail. “So the Alravi are planning to attack the Wyxian border here, here, and here.” You point out the spots you had starred. “My informant is certain they will strike at 0400 in two rotations.”

A scoff meets your ears. One of Jooheon’s partners stands. He’s handsome and tall with full lips and sleepy eyes. “How do we know that this information is even legit, Joohoney? She could be making this up.”

Jooheon shoots you a look and you step towards the skeptic. “Well, Chae Hyungwon,” You purr, “I can guarantee that this information is as real as the tattoo of your mother’s name on your left asscheek.”

Hyungwon turns fuschia as Jooheon cackles, “Is that true, Wonnie? Do you have that?” 

“Yah!” Hyungwon glares at you, “It’s not a tattoo of my mom’s name, it’s a tattoo of my ex-girlfriend’s name! It’s not my fault they happened to share the same one.” 

Jooheon wipes tears from his eyes as he hands you your money, “Please, pet, call me for a trade anytime. This has been the most fun I’ve had in months.”

“Will do,” You grin, sliding the money into your pocket. It barely fits, but you don’t care. It always feels good to secure a bag.

You wave at Jooheon and his crew as you exit the small room and re-enter the crowded club. No further than two steps out of the door, you are thrown over someone’s shoulder.

“Hey!” You pound on your assailant’s back, “Put me down!”

“Shut it, (y/n),” Comes the growled reply. 

You still for a second in an attempt to process what the hell is happening. “Joon?!” You cry, “What the fuck! Where’s Hobi?”

“Here.” Hoseok’s voice comes from behind you and it’s devoid of any of its usual amusement. 

You curse, trying to wiggle out of Namjoon’s hold.

Thwack. Your ass stings and you gasp. Heat floods through you as you realize that Namjoon just outright spanked you in the middle of a crowded club - in front of Hoseok.  

Damn you for even thinking a deal at a sex club would go well. No one even paid the three of you any mind as Namjoon sauntered out of the club and into the night with you hitched over his shoulder and Hobi trailing behind you both.

You even hear the laughing comments of the two bouncers from earlier as they yell over to you... 

“Have fun!” 

“Come back to visit, pet!”

You flip them off, but sadly Hobi obscures the gesture from their sight. 

“I can walk, you know,” You mumble, thoroughly put out by your situation.

“Yeah, we do know, (y/n),” Hoseok scoffs, “You walked away from Joon and I just fine a few minutes ago. What happened to having one of us in the room with you?”

“I can handle myself just fine,” You retort, turning your head to assess how much further you’re going to be left hanging. You’re probably almost at your ship if you had to guess. “Plus, it was good practice for when the two of you leave me.”

Namjoon halts in his tracks and slides you off his shoulder and onto the ground. You wobble a bit from the blood rush, but he steadies you.

“What did you just say?” Namjoon’s voice is deceptively soft, his hands grip your biceps firmly. You can feel Hoseok behind you, his breathing hard.

You snap. Honestly, you’re a bit shocked it took you this long when you’d been feeling like you might crumble for days. 

Your eyes glare back at Namjoon as your lips curl into a sneer, “Yeah, I know you’re leaving me, just like I know about you and Hobi. So why don’t you drop the act like you actually care about me and fuck off.” 

Namjoon’s eyes are wide as they stare down at you. Hoseok seems to have stopped breathing altogether and a slight whine sounds from him. 

“Hoseok,” Namjoon says, “Bring her to her quarters while I set the course.” He steps around you and stalks towards your ship which is only a few paces away. 

“Come on, lovely,” Hoseok grabs your hand but you just shrug him off. A flash of hurt crosses his beautiful face and you almost cave and hug him close. But you have to be strong - just like you always have.

You march forward, heading up the ramp and onto your ship. Hoseok closes and locks the door behind you; the ship lifts off immediately.

Laughing bitterly, you head towards your quarters with Hoseok in tow, “What’s the big rush here? Can’t wait to start your own life together without me?”

“(y/n), please. Let’s talk about this,” Hobi begs, for what you’re not sure. The quiet desperation you hear in his words almost drains the fight right out of you, but you’re in too deep to stop now.

“What’s there to talk about?” Your words sting with bitterness as you enter your room, “I know you two don’t love me, and I get it. Who would? You and Joon deserve a better life. I’ll be fine without you just like I was before you came into my life.” 

Hoseok shoves a hand through his hair as he gazes sharply down at you, “Lovely, no. Don’t say such things.”

Angrily wiping away a traitorous tear, you sink onto your bed. Just when Hoseok looks like he’s about to say more, Namjoon storms in. He takes one look at you and Hoseok and sighs deeply. “What are we going to do with you, baby?”

“She thinks we don’t love her!” Hoseok cries.

Namjoon blinks and then approaches you, “Is that what you really think, (y/n)?” He bends down, his face level with yours from where you sit on your bed. Hoseok sits beside you, and you watch as his hand slowly inches towards yours.

You tug it out of reach. “I know you don’t love me, Joon,” You shrug, “And that’s okay. I’ve always been alone; it's what I know best.”

Namjoon shares a long look with Hoseok and then he turns back to face you, “Baby, how did you get these ideas in that pretty head of yours?”

Your anger boils back up, “I got them from you!” 

You spring up, standing toe-to-toe with Namjoon, “If you really want to leave to be “free to share your love”, don’t let me hold you back. After all, I’m just a drunken mistake, aren’t I? Just a nasty little hiccup in your relationship. Just a painful memory that makes you cringe. Don’t you realize how much that hurts me? I fucking love you and you both can’t stand the sight of m—!”

Namjoon’s hand grips the back of your neck as his mouth slams onto yours. Your mind blanks as you gasp, his tongue sliding over yours. You kiss him back. Your hands wind up his chest, feeling his skin burning through the flimsy mesh of his shirt. You feel another pair of hands grip your hips and that jolts you enough to come to your senses.

“Wait, wait, wait,” You pull your mouth away from Namjoon’s, “You can’t just kiss me and touch me like I’m yours when I’m not.” 

“But, lovely, you are,” Hoseok tugs you back into his body and places a light kiss on your neck, “You always have been.” His mouth feels hot as it sucks gently on your skin, undoubtedly leaving marks in its wake. 

“I-I don’t understand,” You stammer, trying to wrap your head around everything that’s going on. “I thought you were leaving me. I thought you were ashamed of that night on Xyreus. I thought you didn’t want me when you so clearly want each other.” 

“For someone so smart, you sure draw some dumb conclusions,” Namjoon mumbles, his hands cupping your face carefully. “Number one: the conversation you overheard was about how we agreed that we would never leave you.” Your breath hitches as you feel Hoseok’s hands slip around your body to toy with the hem of your crop top right under your breasts.

“Number two,” Namjoon continues, recapturing your gaze, “We are ashamed of that night on Xyreus. But what we’re ashamed of is how strongly we came onto you, how we were so sure we felt more for you than you felt for us. We couldn’t lose you. If we scared you off with how much we loved you - and still love you - we would never live with ourselves. And so we cut it off.”

“You love me?” You breathe out, “Both of you?” 

“So much, baby,” Namjoon looks down at you like you’re the most cherished thing to him. 

“So, so much,” Hoseok growls in your ear, nipping at it slightly. You shiver, your body pressing back into his. You feel his cock hard against your ass and you press back even further, craving some kind of friction. “Fuck, lovely,” His head falls to your shoulder as he grinds into you.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon’s tone is hard and full of warning. It sends a rush of heat straight to your core. 

The other boy groans but pulls back from you just a bit. You frown at the loss.

Namjoon notices and rolls his eyes, “How did I forget that you’re just as insatiable as him?” Before you can even retort, he continues, “Number three: yes, Hoseok and I want each other; but, we also want you. We talk about it all the time. How your pussy tasted on my tongue. How you felt around Hobi’s cock. How it might feel to fuck you at the same time… 

His eyes are dark, his pupils so dilated that they encompass his irises. “I think about that, too,” You bring a hand up to hold one of Joon’s as he still cradles your face. “I think about how it would feel to be between the two of you as you pound into me, using me for your pleasure.”

“She almost joined a scene tonight,” Hoseok blurts. Your eyes widen as Namjoon’s eyebrows raise. 

“Is that so, baby?” Joon murmurs, one of his thumbs brushing over your lips. “What drew you in? Hoseok and I can give it to you in any way you want; you just have to ask.”

Your thighs squeeze together as your walls clench around nothing. Of course, Namjoon’s observant eyes miss nothing and he quirks a small smile. 

“I liked how they pleased their mistress,” You gasp out, “How they touched each other to make her satisfied. I want to do that. Let me do that for you.”

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon groans, “You want to please me? Fine. Strip - both of you.” 

Hoseok immediately sets on unbuckling his harness. Meanwhile, your hands shake too much to be able to unclasp your body chain. 

“Leave it on,” Namjoon slips a finger under the chain between your breasts, “I’ve been dying to see you in this and nothing else.”

“But my shirt—!” Your protest is cut short as Joon grips the collar of your top and rips it straight off. “Namjoon!” You berate, shooting him a dirty look which he definitely doesn’t see since he’s staring at your half-naked body like it’s the sun in which he revolves around. 

“So goddamn beautiful.” Just as you think he’s going to touch you, he backs off. “Hobi, take her pants off, and then I want to watch you make her come.”

Hoseok moves to stand in front of you. You stop breathing as you take in his bare body - his cock already hard. He sinks to his knees in front of you, hands winding their way up your calves, your thighs, your ass. Hobi slowly tugs down the small zipper on the side of your pants and then pulls them off you.

He lets out a moan as soon as he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear. How could you have in tight leather pants?  

“You dirty girl,” Namjoon’s words reclaim your attention as you look up at him. He’s sitting in your desk chair, legs spread wide, making no move to hide his arousal. “Now keep your eyes on me when Hoseok fucks you with his tongue.”

You let out a moan both at Namjoon’s words and at the first brush of Hoseok’s tongue on your aching pussy.

“Gods, Joon,” Hoseok growls, “She’s so wet, so sweet.” His tongue flattens as it drags down the length of your folds before circling your clit.

You’re panting at this point, and when Hoseok lightly kisses your clit and sucks it into his mouth, your back arches. You grind your hips shamelessly down onto Hobi’s face, craving more with a desperation you haven’t felt before. 

Your eyes never leave Namjoon’s as he speaks to you in a low voice, “Fuck yeah, baby. Ride his face. Does it feel good?”

“So good,” You moan, hands winding into Hoseok’s hair as he slides his tongue inside you.

“Do you think you deserve to come, (y/n)?” Namjoon questions, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he leans forward. “Even after the stunts you pulled tonight on Naroxu?”

“Y-yes,” You answer petulantly and then jolt as Hobi spanks your ass. Your walls clench automatically around Hoseok’s tongue and he moans, the vibrations make you squirm. The pleasure builds and builds inside you, coiling in the pit of your stomach and spreading across your body.

You murmur Hoseok’s name like a mantra as your fingers dig into his hair, holding him against your pussy.  

“Stop.” Namjoon’s voice cuts through your impending bliss. Hoseok draws back and you whine at the loss of contact. 

“Joon, please,” You beg, “I’m so close!”

“I want to feel you come around my cock, baby,” Namjoon walks over to you, “Can you do that for me?” 

You nod furiously, and he smiles, his dimples peeking out at you. “Good girl.”

You watch as Namjoon strips, taking in the sight of the thickness of his thighs, the hardness of his cock. 

He kisses you swiftly and then turns you around. “I want you on all fours, baby. Go on,” Namjoon squeezes you ass and then pushes you lightly onto the bed. 

You shift onto all fours, all too aware of how much you’re on display for them. And you feel yourself getting even more turned on. 

“Damn, Joon, look at that pretty little pussy,” Hoseok groans, “It’s all ours. She’s all ours.”

You feel a finger slide into you. “Babygirl,” Namjoon groans, “When I wreck you, I want you to suck Hobi off, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” You pant, needing them both so bad. 

Namjoon chuckles darkly as Hoseok gets into position in front of you. He barely settles before you lean down to taste him. Your tongue swirls around the tip and then you take him into your mouth.

You feel Namjoon’s finger slip out of you only to be replaced by the head of his cock. As he eases into you, you groan around Hoseok’s length, making him twitch. 

Namjoon slowly begins moving in and out of you. “You feel so nice, baby,” He murmurs, gripping your hips, “So hot and tight around my cock.” 

You clench around him and Namjoon moans, “Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna come too soon.” You clench again, because you’re a brat.

Thwack. Namjoon’s hand comes down hard on your ass and stays there, kneading the sting out slowly. His pace picks up. His cock slamming into you, his hips grinding into your ass with each thrust. Soon enough, you’re hurtling towards the edge once again. You release Hoseok from your mouth; and instead, you focus on moving one of your hands up and down his shaft as you lap at his tip.

You feel yourself gripping Joon tightly as you move your hips back to meet each of his thrusts. “You gonna come, babygirl?” Namjoon spanks you again as his other hand reaches around your body to rub your clit. 

You come with a scream, your vocabulary erased to the point where you only know the names of your lovers. Namjoon continues to pound into you, carrying you through your orgasm. 

But still, you’re not satisfied. “Hoseok,” You peer up at your sunshine, “I want you inside me, too.”

“Lovely,” Hoseok sighs, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” You nod emphatically, shaking your ass slightly.

Still inside you, Joon groans, “We’ve unleashed a monster, Hoseok. Go grab the lube from your room, yeah?”

“Why? I have some,” You point towards your bedside drawer. “It’s in there.”

Hoseok opens your drawer and curses, “Lovely, have you been fucking yourself with these toys?”

“No,” You retort, getting up from your bed and ignoring the noise of protest that Joon makes when he slips out of you. “I just stare at them for the aesthetic, Hobi.” You move him aside with your hips as you grab the lube from its spot.  

Hoseok bites down on your neck. “Such a brat,” He mumbles into your skin as he kisses the mark he just made.

They don’t know the half of it... You grin, “Now, are you both going to fuck me? Or should I go back to take those bouncers up on their offer?” 

No sooner had the words left your mouth than Namjoon grabs you, wrapping your legs around his waist and sinks his cock back inside you. “You think that’s funny, baby?” He growls into your ear, “You’re not even going to remember their existence when Hobi and I are done with you.”

You moan as you feel Hoseok’s finger teasing your ass, getting you ready to take him. The coolness of the lube sends a shiver down your spine as you eagerly anticipate being full of both your boys. “Please, Hoseok,” You whine, desperate for him. You grind your hips down onto Joon as best you can, and when you feel the first gentle touch of Hoseok’s cock against your hole, you throw your head back so it rests on his shoulder. 

Hoseok sinks into you inch by inch, torturously slow. You’re panting now as you are stretched around the two of them.

“Gods-fucking-damn,” Hobi moans, his hips meeting your ass as he bottoms out inside you. “Joonie, I can feel you. Gods, you’re so tight, lovely.”

“Please,” You cry. You need them to move, to fill you up with their come.  

And when they finally start moving in and out of you, you think you might be ascending into the astral plane. Namjoon’s mouth lowers to suck at your nipples. Hoseok’s hands roam around to flick and play with your clit. You’re so overwhelmed by the multiple sensations, your hands digging into Namjoon’s hair, holding him close to you.

“I’m gonna come,” Hoseok whines, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his hips stuttering as he chases his high.

“Me too. Come with us, baby,” Namjoon orders, his own voice straining as he shifts your legs up higher to get deeper inside of you.  

Tears stream down your cheeks as his cock hits that spot inside you, and you’re coming. Your walls clench down around both of their cocks, milking them. Their cum fills you up with warmth as your pussy continues to pulse around them. 

“Oh, lovely,” Hoseok sighs, his voice breaking as he thrusts shallowly in and out of you, riding out his orgasm.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” Namjoon places light kisses all over your chest, “You were made for us.”

You can’t even find words as they eventually pull out of you. Cum drips down your legs as Joon sets you down. You watch as Hoseok swipes at it with two fingers and then brings it up inside you. “Want you to be full of us always,” He says, placing a swift kiss to your lips.

“My heart already is,” You murmur, your lips twitching as Hoseok groans at your cheesiness.

“Baby,” Namjoon sighs, his arms wrapping around you, “That was terrible.” 

“Please,” You roll your eyes, “You love it.”

“Yeah,” They reply, “I guess we do.”

© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate

[cotncandyboifics]

A Lovely Night: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~4k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <<>>

...

Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.

First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.

And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.

This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.

And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.

Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

-

Virgil was kind of panicking.

His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.

He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.

Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.

And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.

Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?

What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?

Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.

And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.

So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.

"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.

"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"

"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.

"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."

With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.

He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...

Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.

"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.

-

Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.

"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.

"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.

Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.

"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.

Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.

“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.

Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that  class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”

-

Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.

“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.

Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.

Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.

Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.

They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.

Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.

"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"

Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.

"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.

"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.

-

Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.

The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.

There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.

The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.

"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.

"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.

Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...

"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"

"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.

…but… was he though?

-

"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.

But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."

Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.

Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.

And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.

Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-

"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.

"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.

Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."

Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.

He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.

-

"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"

"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.

Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.

Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.

"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.

"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.

"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.

"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.

Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.

"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.

"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."

As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.

They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.

Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.

To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.

[gdcee]

Road to Nowhere

Pairing: Loki/Sigyn - mild, might have to squint to see it.

Summary: Loki and Sigyn talk while she escorts him to Kid Loki's Kingdom.

Warnings: Panic attack.

=================

"You know I'm only going to keep pestering you until I have the answer."

"I wish you luck in your endeavour," Sigyn returned coolly, stepping lightly as she began to climb the massive pile of garbage blocking their path. "Nevertheless, my lips remain sealed."

Loki huffed, a slight quirk at the corner of his lips which was not quite a smirk. He set off after her, determined to be the first to the summit of Rubbish Peak.

He had to admit he was quite intrigued by that tantalising crumb of information this Sigyn (so very like and yet not quite like his own) had dangled before him. Of course he was curious about the identity of the lucky bastard who had won her fidelity.

All he had was a preferred pronoun. That at least eliminated half of his (admittedly rather short to begin with) list of possible lucky bastards.

After he had gone through the list (which did not take long because as stated earlier, it was really quite short), he started throwing out random names to see if any of them got a reaction.

No such luck.

His attempts to tease and fluster the information out of her had been just as ineffective.

Her reaction to his puppy dog eyes routine had been...perplexing. He'd gotten one soft, achingly tender smile before a heavy melancholy had descended upon her. Like the dark shadow of a mourning veil stealing the brightness from her eyes and the colour from her cheeks.

She had not reprimanded him, but he made a note not to pull that trick again anyway. Besides the practical reasons for keeping her goodwill (survival, information, mental stimulation), the simple fact was that she was Sigyn.

He didn't want to be the cause of her unhappiness. Not anymore.

Being a harmless annoyance and pest was still perfectly acceptable though.

He stood atop the great mound of refuse, his hands and face smeared with oil and other liquids of questionable origin, grinning triumphantly down at Sigyn. He vanished the grime he'd accumulated before gallantly holding out his hand to her.

Sigyn huffed a soft little laugh, the barest hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Without any hesitation, she reached out and allowed him to pull her up.

Loki glanced down to where they had started and noted that it was a long drop. Not nearly enough to kill an Asgardian or a Frost Giant, but enough to hurt.

Trust.

It made him feel as giddy as the first time he'd tasted the enchanted, heady liquid gold that was the mead brewed from honey harvested from the hives of the talking bees that resided near Iðunn's famous apple orchards.

"Ahem."

Loki realised with no small degree of embarrassment that he was still holding Sigyn's hand. He hurriedly worked a spell to remove the dirt under her fingernails and let go. Then to cover up his embarrassment, he resumed pestering.

"I don't understand why the identity of your beau necessitates such secrecy," he sighed with the lightest touch of a pleading whine, "Do you think I would object to your taste? He can't possibly be worse than Theoric."

"I think my life choices are none of your business."

"Exactly! You should forget about my opinion. Shout his name to the world and damn the naysayers and killjoys."

"I would but sadly, Alioth has a sense of hearing."

With that, she picked up a flat sheet of metal lying loose and proceeded to slide down Rubbish Peak on the improvised board. Despite being only at most a quarter Ljósálfar on her mother's side, she moved with their characteristic effortless grace.

Loki peered down, did a couple of quick mental calculations and snapped his fingers. He disappeared from the summit with a flare of green light and reappeared at the bottom no more than a second later in similar fashion.

"Good to see your teleport still works," Sigyn tossed her wind-mussed hair out of her face, "Why didn't you use it earlier to get to the top?"

"Too much debris and no decent eyeline. I didn't want to risk getting stuck under a foot of garbage." He frowned, pondering. "Still works?"

"Not a reference to you personally," she moved forward without looking behind to see if he followed, "Just something I noticed about some of the other Lokis around here."

"Power loss? Nothing to do with you and that coven of other Sigyns whose domain I and the other Lokis are forbidden from entering, I presume?"

"No, I've seen it even in Lokis on their first trepass - if something is limiting their power it's not us. In any case, we would never do anything to permanently disable a Loki's magic. There's just some things you don't do to a fellow mage, you know?"

"You just rough them up a little and kick them off the property?"

"More or less. Except for the kid and alligator."

"Do I want to know how one instance of me ended up as a semi-aquatic Midgardian reptile?"

"You can ask him yourself when we get to the Kid's Kingdom," she paused for a moment, as if she'd just remembered something, "Or maybe not, I think only the old man you knows how to talk to him."

Loki blinked.

"There's an old me?" He asked, disbelieving, "As in a wizened, wrinkled, looks like your grandmother me?"

"Eh, not quite as old as Grandma Hretha. Maybe about 4,000? 5,000?" She shrugged, "Either way, your vanity may rest easy; you look perfectly fine as an old man."

"Thank you for that milquetoast endorsement of my future self's good looks," Loki said dryly, "I was more perturbed about...something else."

Curiouser and curiouser.

How had the aged variant escaped their destined end? How had he managed to grow old before the TVA arrived to arrest him for cheating his final death?

He thought about the tape featuring all the TVA approved highlights of his life.

He thought about that other Loki, the Loki who had played out the role assigned to him and how very young (the same face as his own) and terrified (the same fear as his own) he had looked with the Mad Titan's monstrous hand around his throat.

Loki swallowed thickly and pulled at the collar of his TVA issued office shirt which suddenly seemed far too tight. The tie impeded his work and as he struggled to loosen it he could feel his terror rising up to choke him.

there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you

inevitable

you think you know pain?

Inevitable

HE WILL MAKE YOU LONG FOR SOMETHING AS SWEET AS PAIN

He felt his legs buckle and his knees hit the ground as if it were happening to someone else.

"Loki!" Sigyn's voice was close but he heard it as if a great distance separated them, "Loki, breathe."

"What do you think I'm doing?" He wheezed.

"I am going to remove the tie and unfasten your collar," Sigyn continued as if she had not even noticed his rudeness, "I will need to touch you to do this. Alright?"

Needing help for such a pitifully simple task was galling. But he didn't want Sigyn to leave him. Loki managed a shaky nod. He let her ease his trembling, sweaty hands from his shirt collar. With quick, brisk movements she pulled the tie loose and tossed it somewhere to join the rest of the garbage.

"Follow my breathing now." Her voice was clearer to him now, more present. She was kneeling next to him, so close and warm and oh, her hair did still smell like apple blossoms. He watched the regular rise and fall of her chest and tried to match it. "That's it. Very good. Nice and slow."

Her fingers were at his throat for a mercifully short time. Just long enough to pop the top button loose and push the starched fabric away from his neck.

"Stay with me. You're doing very well. Breathe with me. In. And out. In. And out."

Without really thinking he grabbed her hand and pressed her palm against the centre of his chest. Perhaps he was possessed by some irrational notion that the pressure against his breastbone could keep his thundering heart from beating right out of his chest.

She didn't try to pull away. Her hand was warm, even through the shirt fabric. She moved a little, and one of her dainty fingers slipped into the open gap of his unbuttoned collar and brushed against the dip between his clavicles. His breath caught in his throat for a moment before Sigyn's gentle prompting had him matching her rhythm once more.

"Feel better?" She asked after what seemed an eternity.

"Yes," he breathed, "Yes, much." His chest still felt a little tight but the worst of that dreadful episode was over.

"Good." She lifted her hand from his chest and patted his shoulder firmly - a gesture that he had seen Týr bestow upon struggling Einherjar recruits after they'd passed the final leg of their training. "You did very well."

He didn't feel like he'd done anything worth praising. He'd collapsed like a pack of cards. This wasn't the first time he'd experienced terror but every time before now he had been able to push past it - stamp it down through sheer force of will and that primitive, animal part of his brain that knew that danger was never far away.

Why had he folded now? Now - when he was probably the most at ease he'd been in ages (months? Years? How long had it been since New York?) and the threat of Thanos was no longer an issue-

...a terrible thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Just out of curiosity," Loki tried to sound nonchalant, "Have you ever come across a fellow by the name of Thanos here?"

"Thanos?" Sigyn's brows drew together in a frankly rather adorable expression of pure befuddlement.

Ah. Well, at least he could place whatever nexus event had led to her pruning as occurring before Ragnarok and Thanos's massacre of half the Asgardian survivors.

"Big purple fellow," he explained, "Quite ugly, enormous chin, has rather disturbing ideas about resource management."

"Uh, no, I can't say that I've ever met anyone like that here."

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "I can swear on my magic if that would reassure you."

Sigyn had always been very leery about oaths, especially ones bound with magic. Most mages worth their salt were.

And yet...he couldn't really explain why, but he'd always felt like her issues with them were less about best practices and more about some personal grievance.

That she would offer him such a thing...

Loki felt completely undeserving.

"No," he said hurriedly, "No, no, it's fine. I...I trust you."

Sigyn smiled. It was the first real smile he'd seen so far and it was like watching the sun come out from behind a cloud. He didn't know if it would last - if that melancholy from before would snatch away the sweetness of this moment.

So Loki ruined the moment before it could be stolen from him.

"...even though you refuse to tell me about your paramour."

Sigyn scoffed, all exasperation but it was better than seeing her sad.

"You are insufferable."

"Thank you, I do try."

She snorted and shook her head. "Alright, come on, you goose," she helped him up, and even though his legs were slightly shaky, he stood and did not fall. "Our first rest stop is about 20 feet...thereaboutish-" she waved vaguely in the direction of a mostly empty grassy knoll upon which a gaggle of the oddest creatures scurried. They resembled iridescent headless chickens with little purple spheres hovering over their severed necks.

"I still think we should have taken the car."

"Ugh," Sigyn wrinkled her nose, "Cahrs. Nasty, noisy, smelly things. I swear, Midgard really went downhill after those monstrosities were invented. "