#office and go back for the test. when I came back my client had actually prepared these things for me/us ���� which is very Afghan and sweet

[luc-obsession]

Taken

Diluc sat in his office chair, skimming over his monthly stack of vendor contracts and trade agreements. He signed about half the ones he read.

He no longer sat besides his lawyer - he knew enough legal jargon to read these papers alone. He also knew the tricks of the trade, which half of his customers tried to pull.

It seemed they were hoping he’d miss a word or two, or forgive the typos of an extra 0 they’d make.

He had no problems from his older, more experienced clients; it was the newer ones who typically made these exploitative “mistakes”.

He’d teach them that he maintained the upper hand - or at least equal footing - in all his dealings.

And you were no exception.

His door opened.

Two of his maids, holding you by your wrists, brought you inside.

Diluc thanked them; they nodded in response.

They left, closing the door behind them. A click followed.

You shrunk back from him.

Diluc knew you were hurt - betrayed, even. He had taken you for his own gain.

He brought you here to deal with the aftermath.

“Have a seat.”

You sat down, avoiding his eyes. There were dried tears on your face.

“Ask me anything. I know you have questions.”

You remained silent. This wouldn’t do.

“Answer me.”

A string of obscenities left your lips. This also wouldn’t do.

“Play nice, or I’ll cut your portions.”

Again, you fell silent. Then you started singing his tune.

“I trusted you, Diluc! So why did you betray me?”

“Sumeru is quite dangerous. I hear the enemies there are twice as harmful as Liyue’s.”

Diluc needed back your trust. What better way to earn it than a few well-crafted lies?

“But I know my way around a fight!”

“Not enough to defeat a Level 90 Terrorshroom with only Hydro and a sword.”

Both of which he’d taken from you.

“I’m keeping you here for your protection, and you were eager to go.”

You sighed.

“If you went and never returned…I don’t think I could bear it.”

“Look, I think it’s great you care about my safety and all, but adventuring is who I am.”

You were right. The light in your eyes had dimmed - because of him.

If he let you indulge yourself and explore Sumeru, you’d leave him for over a month, and possibly never return.

If you stay with him, you’d never leave Mondstadt again. You’d lose the thing that made you, you. The very reason he loved you.

It was already beginning to fade.

Still, he wouldn’t be Diluc if the only person keeping him sane left for so long.

He couldn’t go back to being a shadow of his former self.

“I understand, but I need you.”

Your eyes widened.

“Is that the actual reason you kidnapped me?”

“Yes, my love.”

“But I don’t return your feelings,” you spat. “I only love good men!”

“I am a good man. I’m keeping you safe, aren’t I?”

“I’d rather die than live with you!”

That hurt. But he wasn’t surprised.

Diluc clapped his hands twice. There was nothing more he could say.

His maids opened the door again.

“Come, we’re going back to your room.”

“Back to your room.”

They grabbed your wrists and marched you out of the door.

You longed for Teyvat’s treasures, but Diluc couldn’t let you have them. So he’d do the next best thing: spoil you into longing for him instead.

. . .

Every morning, Diluc laid a massive breakfast on your dresser.

Whenever he made steak, you’d get stacks of four, with cheese slices sandwiched in between. He’d give you enough hash browns to fill your plate, piled high enough to reach the jelly bowl in the center.

The night after your discussion, he’d gotten his maids to test every soap on the market. They wouldn’t stop until they found the one that made their hands gentlest, hair smoothest, and faces clearest. Then they picked that brand in the scent you loved most, all on Diluc’s dime.

You bathed in that daily. When you came out, you were dressed in the finest silk robes and dresses, doubly as soft as the ones you used to wear.

He’d ordered you a copy of each of Mondstadt’s and Inazuma’s most popular book series, up to the latest volumes. He knew how much you loved Yae’s tales.

But not Sumeru’s. That would remind you of his transgression, and Diluc was determined to make you forget.

He gave you bottles of your favorite wines. Let you play games of Invocation TCG with his maids, or even him, if you’d like.

He even let your old friends visit, once he’d made clear that you weren’t going anywhere.

But nothing he did brought back your old smile. Nothing revived the light that once shone in your eyes.

He’d turned you into the very thing he was afraid to become.

Now he couldn’t stand the sight of his own reflection.

[fracturedfamilyau]

Okay... Um... Let Me Try To Find The Transcript For That Tape...

Tape 3:

"I heard a pretty heated conversation this morning between Dale, our manager, and someone else on the line. It really feels like this project is in trouble, in no small part because of the lawsuit, I’m sure. There has to be a lawsuit. There’s no way there isn’t. It happened in this building just a few doors down from me. I think it’s made worse by the fact that Jeremy tried to tell us something was wrong. But as a dev team, we all just saw it as a challenge to find what the problem was and fix it. Who could have known that- I have to go."

Tape 4:

"Have you ever heard of a guillotine paper slicer? It sounds made up, but it’s an actual piece of office equipment. I didn’t even know we had one in the supply room. I guess they’re more common at businesses that do a lot of graphic design work. I remember seeing one when I was still in school, and even then I knew how dangerous it looked. I was always afraid of losing a finger. That seems so silly now. Jeremy used to do design work. I guess that’s how he knew it was there."

Tape 5:

"The drawers have been emptied out. Someone was here. I don’t think it was spring cleaning either. No, there was plastic on the floor. Someone was definitely here during the night. It had to have been the client. I mean, they sent us that stuff in the first place with no explanation. Told us to scan it. Said it would expedite the process so we wouldn’t need to program any path finding ourselves. It was a budget thing, I guess. It was just junk, circuit boards and things like that. Looked pretty old. Somehow, though, there was usable code on some of it. It seemed to take hold by itself. Things started changing. But then he started appearing. At least, that’s what Jeremy said."

Tape 6:

"I came in early that morning. No one else was there. At least, that’s what I thought. The supply room was lit. I didn’t even notice Jeremy standing in the testing room as I walked past. The supply room was so bright, glowing from all the way down the hall."

Tape 7:

"Jeremy complained of nightmares when he came in this morning. He wasn’t talking about it like someone telling a friend about his dreams though. He was pale. Looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. He spent an hour talking in Dale’s office. But it didn’t look like he was given much sympathy. When he came out, he went directly back to the testing room. He doesn’t even jump anymore. Nothing scares him. He just stands there like he’s talking to someone. Sometimes he rocks from side to side. We were told to leave him alone. I knew I was in line to do the testing next. They’d been prepping me for it. I guess they knew that Jeremy would need to be replaced soon."

Tape 8:

"You can always tell when a company is getting ready to fire someone. They start giving out written warnings for silly things, making sure to make a paper trail and make a case for firing. Things that normally no one would care about suddenly become grave offenses, all worthy of being written and documented. I guess it works two ways because it also encourages a person to quit rather than be scrutinised so heavily. I think Jeremy was too far gone to consider that option, though. The thing about it is that I don’t think they were going to fire him because of anything he was doing wrong. They just knew he’d seen something. They needed to discredit him."

Tape 9:

"There was something that looked like a Halloween mask laying on the floor. I didn’t understand. Ink must have spilled. It was only then that I heard a shuffle from the room and realised that Jeremy must be in there. I went back and peered in the window. I couldn't see his face. He had the visor covering his head. He had ink spilled on himself as well. The front of his shirt looked black in the dark room. He turned his head in my direction, but I don’t think he knew I was there."

And That's Only Some Of The Tapes Hiden In The Games Files.

Jeremy Saw Something

Previous

Next

[liampboyle]

I looked at the patient, and there they were with four arms, horns, blue-gray skin. I could see the shape of what looked to be breasts through the gown. Another demon, well maybe I was finally getting a handle on this. One, typo in an online listing, and now I hadn’t had any human clients in months. 

“So what do I call you?” I asked them? I already learned never directly ask a demon their name. But by asking what they wanted to be called I would be given something to address them by.

“Aimra'at alyas, or just Yas,” the voice did sound feminine but with demons you could never be overly certain leading to me next question, “and your preferred pronouns?”

“She/her, I use female pronouns.” Ok, this was a good start. I was getting direct answers.

“And what brings you into my office today, Yas?”

She shifted uncomfortably on the table, “Well, I … I’m not really comfortable talking about this, could you excuse me for a second. I really need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Go left out the door to the exam room, and it’s the second door on the right.”

She hopped off the table and left. A rushed “Thank you,” came from her as she passed me heading to the bathroom. I signaled to one of the PA’s to come over. This particular PA was new to the office, she had just completed her licensing exam a few months ago. When the mis-listing of my job as Infernal Medicine Doctor went public on the referral site my became inundated with more exotic clients. I had to hire some assistants quickly and Casey was one of the first to put in an application. She was still getting used to the clientele but had gotten a lot better at keeping her professional demeanor, after the infamous succubus incident.

“Casey, I think this patient would be more comfortable describing her symptoms to a female, than to me, would you mind talking with her when she gets back from the bathroom?”

Casey, looked at her clipboard, ‘Well, I have a quasit in room 3 with an upset stomach, I think they might have ulcers.”

“Okay, just hand me a referral form off of the desk there and I’ll get it filled out while you talk to Yas, when she gets back.”

Casey nodded and came into the exam room. A loud “Fuck” sounded from the bathroom. So I was going to guess it was something going on with the patient’s more delicate areas.

I heard the sound of running water and then Yas exited the bathroom. I left her and Casey in the exam room while I went to go look up a gastroenterologist who might have any idea about how to work with demons. Before I could Casey, stepped out of the exam room, “Doctor, could you please come back in? I think it’s either a bladder infection or an STD but I’m not sure.”

Coming back into the exam room, I saw Yas on the table looking a little more relaxed.

“It hurts when I pee, doctor. And I’m having to go a lot more frequently than usual, and I’m feeling pain in my stomach.”

“Ok, can you show me where your stomach pain is?”

Yas moved her gown revealing she wasn’t wearing anything at all underneath it and pointing to just above where her bladder was. This was a reminder yet again, that demons did not follow normal human rules of propriety, but I tried to maintain my best professional manner.

“Alright, have you had any new sexual partners lately?”

She shook her head, “No, I’m not a succubus, I haven’t had a mate in decades.”

“None, at all?”

She shook her head again.

“Well, I should do an STD test, just to be sure, but it sounds like you have a run-of-the-mill bladder infection. Can you take human medications?”

Yas, shook her head, “I’m not sure. I’m a Seraptis, a suicide demon, we drive people to despair but we don’t feed on their magic like some other demons, I actually eat human food so maybe, I guess?” 

I had an idea to test something quickly. “I’ll be right back.” I went to the employee break room, and there in the fridge was a bottle of cranberry juice. I grabbed a clean glass out of the cabinet and poured a cup. I brought that back to the exam room with Yas and had her drink it. I took a small blood sample for testing while I waited to see if the juice caused any adverse effects. Seeing none from the juice, I tried to hazard a guess that since this particular demon seemed to have a human-like digestive system that she should respond well to human medication. Her chart listed her weight at 74.8 kg so a normal dose of antibiotics should work.

“Ok, I’m going to have your blood tested just to rule out anything more serious but all signs point to a bladder infection, so I’m going to write you a prescription for antibiotics and that should clear everything right up.” I wrote the prescription down and handed it to her. “Also, drink plenty of water and cranberry juice like I gave you a moment ago is also good. You can go ahead and get dressed, and just check out with the nurse at the front desk, on your way out to schedule a followup appointment in about a week.”

Yas just whipped off the gown and stood up, “Thank you, doctor.”

With that, I left the exam room.

You accidentally listed yourself as an "Infernal Medicine Doctor" instead of an "Internal Medicine Doctor" on your resume, now you keep getting request from the underworld to go help cure demons with ailments of all kinds, let's see how far this new life takes you.

[rival-rook]

The real reason I know astrology isn't real is because this would've been the most Mercury -in-retrograde week ever but Mercury is not in fact in retrograde.

-machines at work that broke and have not been fixed: gas sterilizer, two blood machines, the button that makes the collimator light turn on.

-machines at work that broke and were fixed: autoclave, one of the anesthesia monitors

-times that a stable situation was suddenly destabilized and made significantly worse for everyone involved because of a manager: at least twice in three days just in cases that involved me directly.

-hours of sleep per night for my partner bc she's so stressed about work: 4

-thousands of dollars of surgeries rescheduled bc of management's bullshit: only $20,00! But they still made getting those last two surgeries in the house unnecessarily stupid don't worry

-Whatever The Fuck Happened Yesterday: dystocia that went back and forth about getting surgery like 4 times (but ended up having both live!babies on her own, bless, can't be mad about any of that but it is a lil stressful), two surprise drop-offs, and the piéce de resistance, a true abdominal explore (like. Partially obstructive SIFB vs FIP) that was waffling all day (for good medical reasons we thought) but then right when we got the go ahead to start working on the cat our surgeon came running back all flustered like STOP the owners think that the cat ALREADY HAD SURGERY (????? and then they were mad that the cat didn't have surgery and then they didn't want surgery? Idk I went home at that point bc my shift was over and I wasn't on call).*

And then in my personal bullshit:

- so I finally got a tilt table test scheduled for August back in January. That test is what will diagnose POTS vs other scarier issues and will hopefully unlock doctors who can help me. On Tuesday they called me and said they couldn't do my appointment on that day in August bc they wouldn't have the staff (?? Impressive honestly) and could I do next Thursday instead? Of course I was over the moon (and double checked with them verbally multiple times to make sure it wasn't a mistake). Then yesterday they called to say it WAS a mistake and actually they couldn't see me till September. This broke me. My partner and I were sobbing in the yard and trying to hide it. I am stuck and have caused my partner to be stuck at this shitty workplace bc I can't drive and can only get thru a work day bc I have coworkers who will cover for me and take care of me if I pass out and no one else is gonna hire me. And I'm nearly $9000 into this mess and I can't keep spending that much on medical bills and all the progress we've made is that I can sometimes go a whole day without passing out. And to have hope dangled in front of me and then ripped away...I couldn't handle it.

Anyway, they called back like 2 hours later to say actually they can see me beginning of April. I made my partner take the call bc I couldn't face it but then I still cried in the OR in front of everyone when they told me I could be seen in April. I was just so exhausted from all of that I couldn't help it and went and cried in the office for another long while.

On a positive note: I didn't have to leave early any shift this week! And yesterday, despite not eating and barely drinking all day and crying a bunch and not taking my meds...I didn't pass out until after I ate a huge dinner at 9 pm! (which. was after we went to two other restaurants (unexpectedly closed and out of food respectively) which is not a big deal in the grand scheme of things but it's on theme so I'm mentioning it).

This weekend should be pretty chill. We're gonna need it.

*as an aside, this is why I don't believe a single thing posted on the Internet that starts with "well my vet TOLD me..." (Or worse, "my friend's vet told them...") These clients talked to multiple people throughout the day (none of whom would've said surgery was definitely happening or when), were told they could come visit the cat prior to surgery, did so and picked up and cuddled a cat noticeably free of giant abdominal incisions, then somehow within an hour of that interaction thought that the cat had already received surgery and they were mad about it. I swear that like maximum 30% of what is communicated in a veterinary setting actually sticks with a client and we try so hard to make sure all the necessary information gets across (consults emails printed fact sheets phone calls checklists that say I KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW YES FOR SURE) and then I have ppl shocked that their animal who just received knee surgery has a plate in their leg bc that's not how human knee surgery works. I'm gonna start giving them a quiz at the end of every consult. I don't think the cat's ppl can be helped tho

[tavarillasgalen]

i literally keep crying today, and i think it's such a mix of emotions, of both the complexities of the holidays, anger at myself/my ex, and gratitude for all the ways my life has changed for the better this year.

i saw some journal prompts about writing down all the bad in a year to release it and then doing another about all the good, and i think... last year, there was so much bad. it was honestly one of the worst years of my life. but this year.... i think the good will far outweigh the bad.

but as far as bad things that happened this year:

i stayed with my ex for a whole month and a half past his dropping the bomb that he's actually NOWHERE NEAR done with his license, when he had led me to believe he almost had it and we could move this year. i stayed even though i was so bored, the relationship made me anxious, i wanted to die, etc.

my first personal trainer quit :( i really liked working with him. but he was working 2 jobs, his mental health was struggling with all the work, he was growing to hate the gym, he was worried he wasn't spending enough time with his girlfriend, he was struggling with most of his clients canceling all the time (like my current trainer does to me now lol), and he mentioned how he was getting paid a fraction of what i was paying the gym to have a trainer. so, like. i was expecting him to quit, and i'm really proud of him for doing what was best for him. but i'm just sad because he was an excellent trainer. he told me he'd let me know if he ever does training on his own again.

i just made a post about this, but my current trainer is... well. idk. when we were set up together, i thought she would be a perfect fit, even better than my last trainer. but then... she cancels so much, she treats me like i don't know things, she repeats herself so much, she does 40 minutes of training when i pay for 60, and all the other things i mentioned in the other post... it's.... i've grown to dread our sessions together.

my horse's old stable.... this was... huge. so, after last year when they were making me out to be a drama queen for telling them that it's unacceptable for them to steal my horse's toys, for them to move her stall without telling me, and all this, this year, they... fired the cowboy who was in charge of taking care of the horses. so. they didn't clean her stall. or turn her out. or even give her all of her meals. i had to go do that even though we were paying them for full care. like, the horror of when i went to go see her on the weekend only to see that her stall looked like it hadn't been cleaned all week... i was FURIOUS. we had to move her because we could no longer trust them to even feed her. i can't believe they're still in business.

loud coworkers who act like you're the problem for needing the office to be quiet in order to concentrate on your work and for not liking to hear shit-talking.

annoying coworkers stay annoying.

people in general treating me like i am stupid.

people trying to put me down and brush off what i am good at/have accomplished.

that one ballet guy who somehow knew where my little brother goes to school... he seemed perfectly nice outside of that, but that was when i was like, okay..... time to find a new ballet studio, lol.

the retinol uglies. those weren't fun. thankfully, they only lasted a month.

i somehow got an STD???? when i went to my yearly wellcheck and the test results came back and the doctor asked about if i'd had any sexual encounters recently, and i was like... only ever with my ex, and i don't even know if we had sex at all in the month and a half leading up to the breakup. so... not sure how that happened, unless he was cheating on me or something.... thankfully, it was super easy to treat, like, it was gone in 2 weeks. but just... how the fuck did i even get that.

my car got a flat tire - which kind of turned out to be a good thing because then it got new tires, and it was likely going to be due for new tires this year anyway.

general mental health struggles, lol

general struggles that come along with not being paid enough to be able to live on your own.

a fantasy photoshoot i had scheduled had to be cancelled because the photographer got covid

i was supposed to go to comic con with another person i'd met the year before, but she left me high and dry, so i had to do the thing alone while also being like... what's wrong with me, she said she'd be happy to go with me, she said she'd meet me here, she said she was on the way, and then... ghosted. so that didn't feel good.

as you can tell, i'm kind of reaching for straws a bit here, lol.

[storytellersjheller]

High-Functioning Dragon. . .

Dragons are mythical creatures that have been around since the beginning; even the Egyptians had dragons. Just think of it, a world separated by distance, and yet, dragons are everywhere and span all types of mythologies and vary in size, color and build.

I consider myself a dragon in some ways. Women, such as myself, have autism much like men, however, ours show in different ways then men. I'm not the only one in my family that is on the spectrum either; I won't go into details, though we all get it from my Dad who had Asperger's.

Aspergers; what kind of name is that? I mean, seriously?

I was taught to sound things out as a kid from my speech therapists to help with my lisp. Could you imagine, a 10 year-old me, or any kid for that matter, trying to sound out and write Aspergers?

Likely come out as @$$burger and the teacher would take the paper away and we would have no idea what we did wrong.

In fact, something similar happened to me in grade school; as soon as the teaching aid saw that I tried to rhyme duck, she grabbed my eraser and erased the word, saying, "we don't use that word here."

I thought it was strange at the time that she erased my work, but now as an adult, I try not to laugh at the thought.

My first step in my life as a dragon was when I was eventually diagnosed with astigmatism, as well as near and far sighted; not sure how that can happen, but apparently I get it from my Dad. My Dad also had blue eyes like me, so I literally have my Dad's eyes. So, yeah, I was in middle school sporting bifocals, though I didn't care since for the first time, I could actually see. I read more and did better on tests.

Over the years, such things as writing, reading and math were still hard for me; and they remain that way to this day. I'd get my numbers and letters mixed up, wondering if perhaps I was stupid or wasn't paying attention. My Mom theorized that I had dyslexia; and she was right, however, the path to getting the help that I needed didn't come easy.

in the state that I'm originally from, all we'd have to do is walk into my doctor's office and get tested for dyslexia, get a note and bring it to the school for an IEP. But after we moved to Arizona where we are now live, things weren't so easy; and being be in college made it that much harder.

Yep, you read that right; it took until I was in my 3rd year of college to find a dyslexia therapist who wouldn't charge me an arm and a leg, and maybe a kidney, for a three hour test.

I had gone to my community college's DRS department, but all the numbers they had listed were either too expensive (not one of them took any kind of insurance) or weren't taking on new clients. I ended up getting my therapist through a third party suggestion that still took another couple months before I could actually meet with the therapist.

I was super nervous the day of my appointment even with my Mom coming with me.

Yes, I was a 20-something year old who came with their Mom. I was freaked out and she waited in the parking lot in the car for moral support.

The therapist was nice. She was surprised to see that I'd answered all the questions on her intake form; something I didn't pay much mind to at the time. And we begun the tests. We paused for a bit after 45 minutes so I could use the bathroom. It was on my way back from the restroom, that I'd noticed the carpet of the office; and oh my gosh, my eyes started spinning.

"You have a really trippy carpet." I told the therapist.

She was rightfully confused by the statement, and I explained what I meant and told her that this wasn't the first time that my eyes had been triggered like that.

We continued the tests, and she looked over the results.

Yep, I was dyslexic. My brain interpreted words and sounds differently then normal people would, and also added or replaced words while I read without me even realizing it, too. Yeah, that was trippy to learn about.

"I believe you're high-functioning autistic." The therapist told me.

I swear the world froze around me for a moment.

Me? Autistic? Really?

"I've been doing this a long time, and you have a lot of the signs that are known for women with high-functioning autism." She continued.

I was still in a stake of shock.

Sad thing is, my therapist, though she could help me with my Dyslexia and possible high-functioning autism, couldn't test me officially for HFA (high-functioning autism). I couldn't afford the extra therapy either and haven't been back since.

I went home and started to research, and the more I did, the more I connected with others like me; I felt myself piecing together and started to better understand myself, too, and my Dad and family.

Though keep in mind that HFA for women is different then men, and autism is a wide range, too. New things are being learned about how women at affected by autism; I'm no means a doctor, but merely giving my side of how I see things and how I'm effected by autism.

I know this post is running on the long side, so I'll tell a quick story to better explain my point.

I've been in training as a barista for little near four weeks now.

To help with my Dyslexia, I carry a notebook with me to take notes and help recall things (I also likely have ADHD and OCD, too, so thoughts don't always travel in the directions that they should); but on this shift, I was working the cash register.

My sweet manager was aware of my neurodivergence; I told her a week after I got the job; and she was helping me learn the machine and it's many, many buttons and combinations.

A customer comes up and states their order, checking it come up on the screen while I punch in the order on the register. They finish their order, pay for their drink and the receipt prints.

I hold the receipt out to the customer, asking, "would you like your receipt?"

"How much is it?" The customer replied.

"It's a receipt, it's free."

The customer and my manager started giggling.

I'm left confused and embarrassed not sure why either of them are laughing, but knowing it's me that their giggling at.

"I'm not laughing at you, but with you," The customer giggled.

I wasn't laughing. Not even on the inside.

I know the customer and my manager weren't trying to be mean, and they thought my honest response was sincere and funny.

The customer really wanted to know how much their drink was; something I mentally knew that they could see on the screen and so thought they were asking if the receipt needed to be paid for.

I can be sarcastic, witty, and funny when I mean to be, but there are times, like this one, where I took what they said as face value; this is common in people with HFA. It can feel like a mine field trying to figure out what people mean and how to respond; and this often results in what's called masking.

Think of masking as putting on a mirror; a person who's HFA and in a group will watch how others in the group act and copy those actions or tones to better fit in with the group. I do this countless times, including with my family or out at work; and I can say from experience that trying to put on a mask that I believe will make others happy is draining mentally, emotionally and physically to the point that my anxiety comes in and then I find myself depressed, and it takes training and realizing the signs to know when masking is happening.

It's terrifying to try and be ones true self when all your brain can think about is what people might say and how you might respond, known as scripting, or trying to act like everyone else, such as masking.

And even after all those tests, my community college could only offer a cheep, old recorder that couldn't catch my own voice from an arms length away, a lousy text-to-speech reader that read so poorly that it triggered my auditory senses, and extra time on tests. I asked why that was all the college could do and was told that there wasn't enough funding going to the DRS; it really ticked me off to think that even after bending over backwards to get the testing that I needed, that the most that could be done was some shotty, old equipment and more time on tests. I ended up returning the recorder, getting Speechify and going for the extra time.

Calling myself a dragon started as a joke between me and my little cuz because my eyes look in different directions due to my astigmatism and double prism (also known as Lazy Eye, because one eye compensates for the other; only I have that in BOTH eyes; dang overachievers. I also am a bit colorblind as well.) Though the more I learned about myself, the more odd, or mythical that I kind of felt.

Women with HFA are also known to collect things, and well, I'm no different so like a dragon, I have a collection of various 'artifacts'. And my family tends to call my spots in the house as 'nests' because I like to be surrounded by things that make me happy; another thing common to women with HFA. So, yeah, in many ways, I'm a dragon.

I'm pretty sure my ADHD makes me like a fox; jumping from one place to another at the thought of something shiny only to quickly forget what I was even looking at before.

Not even sure what to go for with my OCD.

So maybe I'm like a fox dragon? Dragon kitsune? I've surely feel I've lived more then one life with everything I've been through, learned about myself and experienced.

If you've made it this far, tell me what kind of creature, mythical or otherwise, that you relate to and why; I'd be interested to know.

A group of dragons is called a thunder (que Imagine Dragon's song) and I'd like to get to know who's apart of mine, dragon or anything else. Dragon's are own as protectors and guardians, and so am I; so welcome to my Thunder.

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine Riri finding you her roommate is an ex-Avenger

You were a last minute type of person when it came studying for exams. Which meant pulling all nighters the day before the test was frequent for you, and afterwards you would catch on all your sleep. Once your classes were over able to sleep with peace knowing you aced the test. So once you were sleep you were truly dead to the world, and anything happening.

Your roommate Riri Williams already knew this but still did her best to not disturb you. When she entered the shared dorm room quietly dropping her backpack on the floor by her workstation. She could make out your form bundled under two blankets and a duvet. The thermostat was set on cool making the room pretty chilly, and while she was tempted to change it. She knew going to bed cold only to wake up hot later was one of your pet peeves, and didn't want to do that to you. Instead she was getting ready to raid her closet for a hoodie when someone knocked on the door.

"Riri Williams" an unfamiliar voice called out.

Riri assumed it was a fellow classmate who wanted her to take care of an assignment for them. She let out a sigh of exasperation checking her phone for any new alerts. Before heading over to open the door she had built a whole website to handle future requests, and so far only a few of her clients actually used it. "Hey I don't take house calls anymore you gotta use the website" she told the mystery person.

The stranger placed their phone over her own in her direct line of vision. "I have a encrypted file I want you to air drop it."

Riri looked up mouth open to reply but her words were lost on her tongue. When her eyes landed on the Princess of Wakanda as they widened in surprise. It took her a few seconds but she did regain the ability to speak. "You're Princess Shuri" she whispered moving back to let her in.

Shuri put a finger to her mouth walking into the room, and motioned for her to close the door. Riri shut the door in confusion trying to figure out what could the Princess of Wakanda want with her? Was she even here for her, or was it you she was looking for? While you and Riri got along pretty well and ended up becoming great friends. She didn't know that much about you or your past life. You kind of just showed up out of nowhere starting the semester a little late. Apparently you received your acceptance later for MIT months before graduation, and but you didn't decide to attend college until the last minute. Which is why you were shoved into her dorm at the last minute initially Riri was supposed to have her dorm to herself. But your last minute decision left the front office scrambling trying to find somewhere to put you.

"Um am I being recruited?" Riri finally asked with a hopeful tone.

Shuri paused to turn around giving her a dead look. "No" she answered without hesitation. "I'm here about the vibranium detector you built for the CIA."

Riri raised her eyebrows even more confused than before. "I didn't build that for the CIA that was a class project."

"A class project" Shuri repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah my professor said I would never be able to do it but to be young, gifted, and black though right." She replied not hiding the pride she was feeling as she walked around the Princess to get to her bed.

"How long did it take you?" The Princess asked looking over her workstation.

"A couple of months it took me a while to gather some of the parts" Riri started to explain. But she halted her explanation as paranoia took over. "Hold on did I piss off Wakanda?" she asked standing back up.

"Not just us this place is no longer safe for you I need you to pack your things, and come with me right now" Shuri demanded.

"Aye I have differential equations class in like fifteen minutes" Riri protested with a nervous chuckle. But then saw the are you serious look on Shuri's face, and looked away in shame. On the inside she was freaking out and wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the room. The only problem with that plan though was Shuri stood between her and the exit. So she had to stay calm and figure out another way out.

"Alright yeah um just let me go to bathroom real quick." Riri said not sounding convinced at all as she inched around the Princess who watched as she headed for the bathroom. She made halfway through the door before cursing and retreating back into the corner of the room by the windows.

Okoye walked out the bathroom with her hands folded behind her back.

"I had it under control" Shuri insisted slightly irritated.

"I said you had five minutes I gave you six" Okoye replied.

Riri watched in fear as both of them advanced on her. Shuri held a hand out as if to tell her to keep calm, but Okoye didn't look like she was playing any games.

"Get out" Riri argued. "Get out of my dorm"

"Just calm down" Shuri pleaded

Riri looked around for something to defend herself with and settled for the speaker on the desk. She snatched it up and held it in her arms ready to throw it. "I swear you better not take another step towards me."

"Mmph see how the children here treat their guests" Okoye said to Shuri in a tone of disappointment. Riri took the opportunity to heave the speaker towards them. Okoye whipped her hand out and a small metal rod extended into a full spear slicing the speaker in half.

Shuri and Riri mouths dropped open in shock at the action.

"You brought a spear in here" both of them exclaimed at the same time.

That was when you let out a soft groan while shifting around in your bed. Riri's eyes lit up with joy during all the commotion she had forgotten about you. Okoye and Shuri turned around looking in your direction, but didn't see you immediately hidden under the pile of covers.

"Y/N wake your ass up now" Riri shouted in desperation. You were her last hope there was no way they could force her to go with them with a witness.

Your eyes flew open and somehow you picked on the tone of distress in her voice. As you sat right up doing your best to untangle yourself from the blankets. Your eyes were still adjusting to the light so you could barely make out two grown figures standing a few feet away. You ended up rolling right of bed and hitting the floor in your haste to get up. But you were back on your feet immediately. "Hey what the hell is going on? Leave her alone" you demanded groggily.

This wasn't the first time Riri found herself in a bit of a pickle. There had been a few mishaps early on in the year when some guys decided they wanted to use her services for free. When she said no they would turn up to her door trying to use cheap scare tactics, or just threaten her. But instead they would run into you who had no problem putting them in their place. You assumed that was what was going on here until you finally came to fully.

"Is this your roommate" Shuri asked Riri turning to her with a grin.

"Yeah and she knows a bunch of karate and stuff, so you guys better just go alright. I'm not going back to Wakanda with y'all" she said. Although the way both of them were unbothered about your presence did have her nervous. Why did Shuri look so ecstatic.

If only she knew the truth about your secret identity.

The last time Shuri saw you was a year ago considering you were one of the few Avengers who actually made it to T'Challa's funeral. You and her were extremely close meeting each other when you paid Bucky a visit in Wakanda during his time there. The two of you bonded over being so young yet having so much responsibility. When Thanos's alien army invaded Wakanda you were there protecting her from the aliens. When they breached the lab, and after her and T'Challa was snapped away. You put your life on the line to help get them back.

Although she was use to seeing you all suited up in your hero fit, and not in a pair of sweatpants and a oversized gray T-shirt. Shuri recognized you perfectly. "Hey y/n I didn't know you were in college."

"Shuri is that you and Okoye?" You asked rubbing the back of your neck.

"Yes it is so this is what you gave up being Avenger for" Okoye answered.

"Um yeah you know the hero stuff wasn't the same after we defeated Thanos you know. Tony and Nat died, Steve got old, Thor went off to space, and well things just got weird. I decided to take a break try to have an actual normal life considering no one really knows my real idenitiy." You explained stretching your body a bit.

"Hold up what" Riri said cutting into the conservation. A tone held a mixture of surprise and anger.

"Shit Riri you didn't know wait why are you guys here hassling my roommate anyway?" You finally asked walking over to stand between them and her. Riri was still caught off guard at the revelation of you not only knowing them but being a Avenger, yet she still appreciated the way you were protecting her. She knew she could count on you.

A tiny smirk formed on Shuri's face as she took in the way you stood protectively in front of Riri. "Your roommate built a vibranium detector and made a merman with winged ankles very upset. Now he wants her dead, and we need to get her back to Wakanda where she will be safe."

There was a moment of silence as both you and Riri took in everything she had said.

"But maybe she will be alright considering she has an Avenger to protect her" Okoye added with a grin.

"What" Riri said in confusion.

You whirled around to face her with a judging look. "Did you really build a vibranium detector?"

She gave you a tiny nod.

"Why would you do that? Did you really think any good would come from that?" You continued.

"Hey are we not going to talk about you being an Avenger" Riri demanded trying to change the subject.

"A freaking merman with winged ankles is after you Rri" You exclaimed throwing your hands in the air.

"Okay okay you got a point" she agreed her eyes drifting downard in guilt.

"So are you going to come with us or what now?" Shuri butted in.

"Look maybe there’s another hey-" her protest was cut off as you closed the distance between the you and her. You proceeded to throw her over your shoulders with little to no effort as if she weighed nothing. "Y/N what are you doing put me down."

"No way we don't have time for this we need to get moving." You said turning around to head over to get her backpack. Before looking over at Shuri and Okoye who both had a expression of amusement on their faces.

"I guess this means you're going to tag along" Okoye said.

You shrugged your shoulders tightening your hold on Riri as she struggled. "I've never seen a merman before if I'm going to get back in the game. It mind as well be for this."

"Are you sure that's the only reason?" Shuri prompted eyes drifting to Riri before finding yours again. A teasing smirk on her face.

It was a good thing Riri couldn't see your facial expression, and the waves of nervousness coming off of you. "Well college is getting kind of boring too" you lied.

"Y/N wait okay just wait a second" Riri tried to reason with you. She finally realized she was getting nowhere with her struggling, and came to the conclusion that super strength was probably one of your powers.

"Just relax Riri this is going to be fun I promise okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you roomie."

"But-" she started again.

"Hey you trust me right."

"Yeah"

"You know I'm going to protect you right"

"Yes" she sighed in defeat

"Then stop worrying" You told her as you started walking towards the door. Shuri opened it for you with Okoye bringing up the rear. "Will you at least put me down and let me walk on my own please?" Riri asked. A bit annoyed at being carried by you like some toddler she had a reputation to uphold.

"Nope you might run plus I actually like carrying you." You replied adjusting your hold on her.

Riri pouted as Shuri chuckled at the exchange.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#259

“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….

“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….

“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.

“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.

“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.

“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.

“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….

“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.

“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.

“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.

“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.

“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.

“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….

“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.

“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.

“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.

“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.

“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.

“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.

“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.

“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.

“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.

“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.

“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.

“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.

“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.

“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”

[chaoticpuff17]

Baby Mine

ADG Yoongi

Masterlist

Hello my darlings! Just a reminder that all the mc’s in the ADG universe are named except for joon’s! This is to avoid confusion for all of us as the universe expands and the mcs run into each other! Love you all! Thanks for reading! —— chaotic puff

She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror tilting her head from side to side as she tried to figure out if it was just her imagination or if there really was a small bump forming on her lower stomach. It had to be her imagination, or just some bloating. Birth control was a major part of her work. Jimin ensured that all of the girls were on some sort of contraception. Babies weren’t allowed. Pregnancies and babies meant that girls went out of commission. No one wanted to fuck a pregnant whore.  

Sen shook her head as though trying to shake the idea out entirely. It was near impossible for her to be pregnant. It was better not to think about it at all, but she’d get a pregnancy test later just to be safe. Jimin would kill her if she was pregnant. She was one of his best girls after all. She brought in a lot of money for him.

“Lola.” A rough voice called from behind her as an arm snaked around her waist.

Lola. It was a fake name to protect her. It was something Jimin had instigated when he’d taken over keeping charge of the girls. For as much of a dick as he could be, he did want the girls safe, and she was grateful for that. Jimin had picked the name himself. Lola from lotus because her name meant lotus. She still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten Lola from lotus, but she appreciated the thought, and it was better than have the men know her real name. She was able to keep that just for her, and for that she was grateful. So few things were hers here. It was nice to be able to keep her name to herself.    

She pasted on a sensual smile and turned to face the man before her winding her arms around her neck. “Leaving already?” She asked looking up at him and tilting her head to the side. “Or are you staying for another round?” She purred moving closer so that their chests were brushing against each other as she placed a soft kiss on the edge of his mouth.

“I have a mission.” He announced sleepily resting his head in the crook of her neck. “RM just called.”

She hummed gently. He liked verbal confirmation from her. She’d learned a lot about his likes and dislikes through the years.

For someone so feared, Suga could at times be a softy, especially after he’d just woken up. She’d learned through the years that he valued his sleep more than anything. Usually if Suga was visiting her, she wouldn’t expect another client for the rest of the night. He’d crash in her bed, and leave in the morning, or whenever he woke up. If the mission had been particularly hard, he’d crash for up to a full day in her bed before going on his way.  

The higher ups took first priority. Even if she’d had another client, the big seven took priority. She’d been lucky enough only to have had to service three of the big seven. Jimin tested all of the girls, but it was Hoseok and Yoongi that visited her regularly, sometimes together, sometimes not. But it was well known among the ranks that she was Suga’s favorite of the girls. She couldn’t count the number of times that Yoongi had come to her in the years she’d been working for BTS.

There were many nights when Suga would appear at her door, and more than once he’d kicked another client out of her bed, but he was allowed. He was one of the big bosses, and no one was going to argue with him. The only one that could have stopped him was RM himself, and so far Sen had been lucky enough never to have met the kingpin. But Suga hadn’t kicked anyone out of her bed in a long time. When it was well known that she was Suga’s bitch, other men no longer came to call. The only one besides him that came to visit her anymore was Hoseok. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of Suga’s wrath, and there were plenty of other girls for them to choose from. Hoseok was an exception. They didn’t mind sharing with each other, and it always made for an interesting night when they were there together. She was left sore for days.

“You’d better get going then.” She whispered running her fingers through his hair in the way she knew he liked. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

He lifted his head, dark eyes scanning her features before he sighed tiredly. “Money’s on the table.” He grumbled leaning his forehead against hers, still sleepy. “I’ll be back after this mission.”

“You always are.”

“Patch me up?”

“You really should go to Dr. Kim for that.” She scolded. “I���m not a medical professional.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t do what you do.” He informed her with a smirk while she rolled her eyes at the suggestive tone of his voice.

He placed a quick, rough peck to her lips, and then he was gone.

Even if he was one of her only clients these days, he at least paid well. All the higher ups paid well, and she had a debt to repay. Well, the debt was repaid now, but she was trying to save up the money to leave this place. It was the debt that landed her in this position in the first place. She could blame her crackhead mother for that. The hag had skipped out of town and left her to pay off the debt. It had taken her years, but she’d finally done it. The next time her mother got herself in trouble, Sen was going to let her deal with it herself. It wasn’t her problem anymore.

She glanced over at the clock. It was way too early in the morning for her to consider running out to grab a pregnancy test, but she was going to do it anyway. Three in the morning was too early for most things, but her job had her keeping weird hours, and both Hoseok and Yoongi were well within their rights to wake her up at any time of the day or night. It was unlikely that either of them would come by for the rest of the night, and she wanted to put that nagging feeling at the back of her mind to rest as soon as possible.

To say that the two lines staring back at her were a shock would have been an understatement. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Those two little pink lines mocked her. The words in the Google search mocked her. Birth control was only 99% effective. Jimin was going to kill her. Suga was going to kill her. He was the only one that could possibly be the father. Jimin and Hoseok hadn't visited her recently, only Suga. But did she really have to tell either of them?

She had enough money to leave. Her debt was repaid. She could hand in her resignation to Jimin and go. She never had to tell either of them anything. She wasn’t showing enough for either of them to see, and if she moved quickly, she could be gone before anyone found out. Besides, she doubted that Suga wanted a child let alone a child from a whore.

Yes, that would be the best option.

She placed a hand over her belly, her mind whirring with possibilities. A baby. She was going to have a baby. Life was full of odd surprises, but this was not one she thought she would ever have to deal with. She’d never even considered being a mother let alone the mother of Min Yoongi’s baby.

“Okay, little dude.” She whispered to her belly. “We’re going to be okay.”

And it would be, as soon as she informed Jimin of her departure, she was gone. But first she actually had to talk to Jimin.

“Sir.” She greeted bowing respectfully as she entered his office.

“Sen.” He greeted leaning back in his chair. “Is everything alright? You don’t usually come to visit me.” He sent her a charming smile. He was always charming, but she didn’t have time to flirt with him today.

“I wanted to inform you of my resignation in person.” It was best just to put it out there.

His small dropped, a frown taking its place as he leaned forward. “Resignation. You’re leaving us, Sen?”

“I paid off my debt. I think it’s time for me to go.”  

“Are you sure about this?”

She smiled even if the expression was strained. She couldn’t let him know that anything was off. “I’m sure. I want more for myself than this, Jimin. I’m sure you can understand that.”

“You have a good life here.” He pointed out. “Suga keeps you comfortable and protected. No one’s going to mess with his girl.”

“I’m not his girl, and you and I both know that this was never what I wanted from my life. I paid my debt. It’s time for me to go.” She held firm her lips pressed into a line as her smile fell.

“Suga will be disappointed to see you go.”

“I’m sure he’ll survive.”

“You’re sure I can’t convince you to stay?” Jimin might have appeared calm, but his mind was already busy thinking over the fall out of her decision. He didn’t even want to think of Yoongi’s reaction. “You’re my best girl.”

“I have one client.” She scoffed. “Two if Hoseok drops by, but he rarely does these days. I can’t be your best girl.” She pointed out leaning forward in her seat to match Jimin’s stance.

“Yeah, but you keep Suga hyung happy, and that’s worth a lot.”

“He’ll find another girl.”

“I’m not sure there is another girl like you, Sen. He likes you.”

She scoffed again moving a strand of hair away from her face as she leaned back again. “He’ll get over it.”

Jimin scoffed, but there was really nothing he could do to make her stay. She had kept her end of the deal and paid off her debt. Unless he planned on kidnapping her, she was free to go, and BTS wasn’t in the habit of forcing women to work for them.

“I’m sorry to see you go.”

“It’s for the best.”

Jimin had been disappointed to see her go. It meant that Hoseok and Yoongi would need to find a new plaything, but Jimin was not looking forward to telling his hyungs that Sen had gone, especially not Yoongi. He visited her almost exclusively. She was his girl, even if neither of them would admit it.

He’d hoped that she would stick around a little while before she left that way she could be the one to tell Yoongi, but he was shocked at the speed with which she’d packed up her life and gone. It was as though she’d never been one of his girls at all, and it left him with the responsibility of telling Yoongi. Unfortunately for him, that moment came far quicker than he would have liked.

“Where’s Lola?” Yoongi asked barging into his office and plopping himself down on his sofa a scowl on his face.

“Lola?” Jimin asked keeping his tone light and breezy.

“She’s not at her apartment. She’s always at her apartment.”

“Ah.” Jimin gulped trying to find the right words. “Well, Sen left. That’s her real name you know. Lola’s just for work.” That hadn’t been what he was going for, but honesty is the best policy, or so they say.

“Left?” Yoongi arched a brow leaning forward suddenly interested.

“She paid off her debt.”

“She did that a while ago.” Yoongi scoffed brushing him off. “She didn’t leave then. Why now?”

Jimin shrugged. “She said she wanted to go. Something about it being time. Sorry, hyung. Jas is in though. You visit her sometimes.” He was hoping that his hyung would smoothly take on a new girl, but he doubted that the transition would be smooth.

Yoongi grumbled under his breath. He didn’t want Jas. He wanted Lola. He always went to Lola after a mission. She tended wounds he didn’t bother going to Jin for. She listened running her fingers through his hair as he told her about anything and everything. She knew more about him than just about anything else. No he never shared details of the business, but she knew him.

Jas expected sex. She expected the infamous assassin of BTS, and while she was good for a fuck, she certainly wasn’t going to be dressing wounds or letting him spend all night and half of the next day in her bed.

He couldn’t help a tinge of resentment as he thought of Lola, Sen. He provided for her. He made sure no other dirt bag touched her, but she left anyway. He and Hoseok treated her well, and she just left. She hadn’t even deigned to tell them her real name, but she wasn’t going to find a better life than the one she’d had under their protection. If she was stupid enough to leave, that was her problem, but he wasn’t about to let her go. She knew too much.

“Should I tell Jas you’re coming by?” Jimin offered already reaching for his phone even though he knew Yoongi would probably refuse.

“Don’t bother.” He grumbled pushing himself up from the sofa.

“Hyung!” Jimin called after him “Hyung!” He knew what was on Yoongi’s mind. He wasn’t a man to share, and Sen’s leaving wouldn’t be taken well. “She’s not in the city anymore.” He announced causing Yoongi to stop in his tracks. “The last time anyone saw her she was entering the airport. We didn’t keep track of where she was going. She’s free to go where she pleases. She’s not one of mine anymore.”

“The airport?” Yoongi asked turning with a scowl. “Where would she go? She doesn’t have any family.”  

“Just her crackhead mom, but I doubt she went looking for her.” Jimin agreed leaning back in his chair. He didn’t like the look In Yoongi’s eyes, but he wasn’t about to stop him if he decided to go after her. If he wanted her, he could have her. He’d just have to find her first.

“You gonna go looking for her?” He called as Yoongi turned to leave again taking note of the tight set of the other man’s shoulders.

“Why would I go looking for a whore?” He spat venom dripping from his tone his eyes flashing.

Jimin watched him go, doubting that this would be the end of it. Yoongi was angry, but Jimin knew his hyung enough to know that that hurt was coming from a place of betrayal. Yoongi, as much as he didn’t like to admit it, cared about Sen. No, this wouldn’t be the end of it.

Sen was happy. She’d found herself a nice little apartment in Busan. She liked living so near to the sea, and she was sure that the little one would love it as well. She’d assembled a nursery for the little dude who she had recently found out was quite literally a little dude. As her bump grew, she collected strollers, blankets, stuffed animals for the little dude, and she was happy, happier than she’d been in years. She was excited to be a mother, excited to start over. She’d built a nice cozy life for them here, and she knew it was going to be a good one.

Her break from BTS had been clean. No one knew about the little secret she was carrying, and they had no reason to keep her, not when she’d paid them back everything that was owed. She still found herself looking over her shoulder though. She was always worried that Jimin or Hoseok or heaven forbid Yoongi was going to appear out of nowhere and see her heavy with Yoongi’s child. She doubted that she would have made a clean break if any of them had known. But this wasn’t their child. Her son didn’t belong to BTS. He was hers, her little dude. They didn’t get to have a say.

Her kitchen fridge proudly held the ultrasound from her twenty week scan. Baby books were littered across her coffee table, along with a book of baby names. Her life had been about survival for so long, but now the little dude kept her busy. He was her life now.

She had enough saved to keep them comfortable for a little bit, but she was lucky enough to find a job in Busan. She was working at a local restaurant. It was owned by a lovely couple whose only son was in college. They took every opportunity to brag about him. It was good work, honest work, and they didn’t seem to mind that she was an unwed mother. They’d also given her a very generous maternity leave.  

It was a good life. It wasn’t much, but it was good. And she only grew more excited as her due date drew closer. The excitement was partially driven by the excitement to meet the little dude, and the growing desire to get him out. She loved him, but he was a pain. Her ankles were swollen. Her back hurt, and she was getting really tired of the way this kid liked to sit directly on her bladder. But it would all be worth it as soon as the little dude arrived, and he was due any day now.

She had everything ready to go. There was a bag packed, and she had a plan in place to get to the hospital. One of the downsides of being a single mom was that there was no one there to help when the pregnancy got rough or to go with her to the hospital when the time came.

She’d debated finding a midwife and doing a home birth, just for the added security of not being in the hospital on the off chance that Yoongi or someone else from her old life had found out about the little dude, but she’d ultimately decided that the safety that the hospital provided for the birth was the better choice. She wanted all the nurses and doctors she could get since she had no family to support her through a home birth, and the hospital had the good drugs to help with the pain. She was a baby when it came to pain, and she was dreading the contractions.

She had to keep reminding herself that it would all worth it for the little dude. And it was. When the nurse handed her her son for the first time, she had never been more in love in her entire life.

He was small, so very small, and all read and wrinkly. His face was scrunched up like an old man’s, and there was something about him that was just so similar to Yoongi when she looked at him. It could have been the old man attitude, or it could have been the tuft of dark hair accompanied by those impossibly dark eyes. It didn’t matter though. Whether he looked like his father or not, she was completely in love with him.

Every sound that he made, every movement, had her enthralled. How could this tiny perfect being have come from her? How could she have made something so perfect? She knew that she would do anything for him, anything at all. Every terrible thing that had ever happened, her mother, the debt, working as a prostitute for BTS, it was all worth it, because it had brought her him.

It was with a heavy heart that she let the nurses take him away to the nursery, but she knew that she was going to need all the rest she could get before she took him home, and it was just the two of them. She would have plenty of long nights ahead of her, she could let the nurses take care of him for one night while she recovered from the birth.

When she woke up some hours later, it was to a dark room and the sound of those soft noises content newborns made. It took her a few minutes to wake up enough to realize that her baby wasn’t supposed to be with her. He was meant to be at the nursery.

She bolted up, ignoring the pain the sudden action caused as she frantically looked around the room looking for the source of the noise. Her frantic heartbeat stilled for a moment as she caught sight of her baby perfectly safe, but her blood turned to ice as she saw who held him.

“Suga.” She whimpered bracing herself against the rail of the hospital bed as she prepared to jump out of bed and seize her child from him arms.

“Sen.” Her heart stopped. How did he know that? Where had he learned that name? “You didn’t tell me you were expecting.”

“Suga.” She said his name like plea, begging him to give her back the baby.

“Shhhhh.” He hushed her walking over with her baby settling himself on the bed beside her before she could spring up. “You should be resting. You just gave birth, baby.”

“Give me the baby.” She pleaded reaching out to take her son, but Yoongi held him away fixing her with a dark, disapproving stare.

“You should have told me.” He scolded.

“Please, give me the baby.”

He shushed her again. “He’s fine. Look. He’s sleeping.” He angled his arms down so she could see the angelic face of her little one scrunched up in sleep. “You don’t want to wake him up.”

“Please.” She reached out for the little one again terrified of what Yoongi could do to him.

She knew she was in trouble. No one stole from Bangtan, and if Yoongi was here, he had clearly known about the pregnancy. Was he going to take the baby from her? Was he going to kill her for hiding it?

“He’s fine.” He scolded again maneuvering himself so that the baby was cradled in one arm while the other snaked around her shaking shoulders pulling her close in a position they had been in many times before, minus baby.

“Yoonho, huh?” He asked gazing down at the sleeping child. “Feeling nostalgic, Sen?”

“Please.”

He sighed shifting to ease the baby into her waiting arms much to her relief. Yoonho whimpered a little in his sleep unhappy with the transfer, but settled back quickly.

She looked over him checking for any signs of distress, but he seemed fine. He was sleeping like a champ, but that was what newborns did. They slept, and they ate. Yoonho didn’t even seem to know that anything was wrong, but Sen did.

“Why are you here?” She whispered gently tracing her son’s features as she refused to meet Yoongi’s eyes.

“I’m here for my kid.” He scoffed leaning over a bit and moving the blanket back so that he could have a better view of Yoonho’s face. “You didn’t think you could keep something like this hidden, did you?”

“I was hoping.” She whispered stiff in Yoongi’s arms. “What happens now?”

“I take Yoonho back to Seoul.”

Her eyes flew to his, wide with panic as she clutched her little dude closer to her chest. “No!”

Yoongi shot her a dark look, and she shut up immediately not wanting to push her luck when she was already in so much trouble. “I’m taking my kid back to Seoul with me.”

“Please no.” She whimpered staring up at him pleadingly. “You can’t take him.”

“I can, and I will.” He answered sharply silencing her again. “He’s my kid.”

She squared her shoulders and glared at him. “You don’t know that. He could be anyone’s.”

Yoongi chuckled darkly eyes sharp and dangerous as he stared her down. “You saying you were sleeping with other men?”

“I was a whore.” She pointed out.

He gripped her chin tightly bringing her face close to his as he hissed at her. “I know every man that touched you. No one has touched you other than me in some time. That kid could only be mine.”

“Just because you kept away other clients, doesn’t mean I wasn’t sleeping with other men. I had a life outside of you and yours.” She shot back. It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. She would say just about anything to get him to go and leaver her and Yoonho alone.

He released her chin leaning back against the bed with a gummy grin, but there was no mirth behind it. “No, baby. You couldn’t. Jimin doesn’t let his girls sleep around without getting paid. If anyone other than Hobi or I had touched that sweet little pussy, you would have been in big trouble.”

“You don’t know that.” She should really stop talking, stop antagonizing him, but she couldn’t. She needed to get him to believe the baby wasn’t his. She needed him to go, even if it was a long shot that he would.

“Baby, I know everything about you. You really think you could sneak around without one of us knowing?” She didn’t say anything, only trembled clinging onto Yoonho like an anchor. “You were sleeping with two of the big bosses. No one would touch you with a ten foot pole, and our guys certainly wouldn’t let you go sneaking around if they saw you. You want to try this again, baby girl?” He quirked a dark brow at her. “Who’s the father?”

“You.” She admitted the truth leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as she glared at him.

“Good girl.” He praised as he ran a long finger over Yoonho’s little nose staring down at the baby his eyes sparkling with something she had never seen before. He looked almost enamored. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“You can’t take him.”

“I can.” He shrugged pulling back with a gummy grin directed at the little one who was just opening his eyes to stare up at his parents. “You have two options, baby. I can shoot you, and take Yoonho. Or you can come back to Seoul with me, and be a good little wife and mother.”

“Wife?” She asked the offer coming as a complete shock. She had never pegged Yoongi as the family type of guy. “As in marriage?”

“You got another definition?”

“You want to marry me?” The words came out slowly as she tried to wrap her mind around the concept.

“Yoonho needs a mom.” He shrugged. “I’d prefer you do it. You’re his mom, but I have no problem getting rid of you and finding someone else if you’re going to be difficult.”

She shuddered at the though. Yoongi had never shared the details of his missions, but she knew the gist of what he did for Bangtan. He would have no trouble disposing of her if she didn’t cooperate.

It was a simple choice really. Go back with him and stay with her son, or wind up in a ditch somewhere.

“Okay.”

He smiled, kissing her forehead lightly. “I’m glad you made the right choice.”

As soon as Sen and Yoonho were released from the hospital, Yoongi took them both back to Seoul. He didn’t even allow them to go back to her apartment to collect any of her things or any of the things she had put together for Yoonho. All they had was the bag she had packed for the hospital.

He didn’t return her to the apartment she’d operated out of when she’d worked for Bangtan. Instead he took them to what she had to assume was his home. She’d never been to Yoongi’s home before. Why would she? She’d just been one of the many girls at his disposal. She wasn’t special.

The apartment was spacious, but it was cold. There were no personal touches. Hardly anything suggested that it had been lived in. She could understand now why Yoongi spent so many nights in her bed instead of here. She wouldn’t have wanted to come back to a cold, lifeless apartment either.

“Yoongi.” She started softly, holding Yoonho to her chest as she finished exploring their new home. “There’s no crib.”

“What?” He asked not even opening his eyes to look at her as he remained sprawled across the sofa in the living room.

“There’s no crib, or changing table. There’s nothing for a baby here.” She pointed out bouncing the baby as he began to fuss. “There’s nothing for me either.”

He sighed heavily sinking further into the sofa as he did. “I’ll send out one of the boys for stuff later.”

“Yoongi.” She started again, her tone more sharp this time.

“What?” He shot back, tone equally as unhappy.

“There is nothing here. There are no diapers. There are no baby clothes. No wipes. No burp clothes, blankets, bottles. I don’t need someone to go out later. I need someone to go out now.”

He groaned opening his eyes to glare at her, but she was having none of it. He might hold her life in his hands, but he professed to want their baby, and she’d be damned if she stayed here when he was so ill prepared for said baby. “I can go out and grab some things myself if you don’t want to send someone, but we need at least diapers, wipes, and extra clothes. A crib would be nice too, unless you want your son sleeping in a car seat.”

He sat up still glaring at her. He was tired. She was tired, but at least she was looking out for their child’s welfare. “And how do I know if I let you out of her that you won’t take off with the kid?” She rolled her eyes shifting to move Yoonho to rest against her other shoulder as he fussed again. “Because if I tried anything you’d track me down, take Yoonho, and shoot me in the head. I’m not stupid.”

“Pretty stupid of you to run off in the first place.” He grumbled. “Almost as stupid as the boss’ wife.”

She scoffed at that. Everyone in Bangtan knew the story of what happened with RM’s wife. She’d disappeared at the New Year’s gala in spectacular fashion. The organization had been in chaos trying to find her ever since. But could she really blame the poor woman? If she thought she could safely get herself and Yoonho out of here, she would take off in a heartbeat. There was nothing stupid about it.

“You can go grab supplies then. I’ll make you a list.”

And then Yoonho started crying, stuttering little cries that were heartbreaking to hear but elicited a sigh from both parents.

“What is it now?” Yoongi asked getting up to check on them both. His words were gruff, but he was genuinely concerned for his son’s welfare.

“He’s probably just hungry.”

She shrugged moving to sit down on the sofa as she maneuvered herself and Yoonho into a more comfortable position for feeding. She wished she had a blanket to keep herself covered, but it was nothing that Yoongi hadn’t seen before, and yet he stared at her wide eyed as she got Yoonho to latch as though it was the most alien thing on earth. He still wasn’t used to the sight of her breast feeding. He wasn’t used to seeing her so domestic.

There was no soft lingerie or sheer robes. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun that threatened to fail at any moment, and she was dressed in a pair of soft leggings and a shirt that was comfortable on her still healing body and was easy to get out of the way when Yoonho got hungry. He also knew for a fact she was wearing the mesh panties that the hospital gave her. There was nothing sexy about it, but at the same time it felt right. It was domestic. It was motherly.  

After he unfroze from the sight, he moved to sit next to them both. “I’ll send someone out now.” He agreed taking off his hoodie and throwing it over her shoulders so she wouldn’t be cold.

Yoonho was bundled up in the only blanket they had available, but he couldn’t help but notice that her own clothing looked a little worn as though it was second hand. He’d have someone pickup clothes for her while they were out shopping for Yoonho. She was going to be a Min very shortly. She couldn’t go around in second hand clothing. He might not have loved her, not like Namjoon loved Y/N, but he had known Sen for a long time. He liked her well enough. More than that she had given him a son.  A perfect little heir.

If he had to choose a woman to mother his child, he was almost glad it had been her. It saved him the trouble of picking some girl from their allies, and Sen already knew him. She also knew how Bangtan worked. That was half the trouble that Namjoon and Jin both had with their women.

Y/N was a smart woman, and she knew how gangs worked, but she didn’t know her place in Bangtan. She gave Namjoon no end of trouble. She never settled. Jin’s girl was a weak little thing. She didn’t understand gang life at all. He kept her locked up tight so that she couldn’t go running for the hills. She’d bend soon enough though, and life could be worse than with Jin.

Sen was different. She was already accustomed to Bangtan. She knew what he was capable of. She knew the consequences if she stepped out of line. She might not like her situation, but she wasn’t going to openly defy him, not when her life and the life of her child were on the line. That gave him some peace of mind at least. He would though have to fend off Jimin and Hobi. If she was going to be his wife, he couldn’t have any of the other boys sniffing around her. Hopefully Hobi would find a girl of his own soon enough, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it.

“We need to talk about the wedding.”

She looked up from Yoonho to meet his eyes in confusion. “The wedding?”

“Nothing big. You’ve already had a baby. A courthouse wedding.”

She sighed before grimacing at the feel of Yoonho feeding. “I’m fine with whatever. Let’s just get it over with.”

He frowned at that. Marriage was a big deal, especially in his circles. When you chose a woman, you chose her for life. It wasn’t something you “just got over with”.  It was the reason that Namjoon wasn’t going to let Y/N go. It was why Jin kept Hayan locked away. He was choosing her, and she just wanted to “get it over with”.

“Sen.” He growled causing her to look up again in confusion. “We are going to be married. You’re my woman, and you’re going to act like it.”

Her eyes were wide as she took in his words, but she was in no position to argue with him. She was going to do it anyway though. “Is this really a marriage?” She asked. “We’re only in this position because of Yoonho. I don’t expect you to be faithful or act like a husband.” She shrugged as she moved Yoonho over to the other side. “Do you really expect me to act like a wife?”

Yoongi darted forward capturing her mouth in a rough kiss though he was careful not to disrupt his son one of his hands coming to overlap hers to keep him steady. “You are mine.” He growled dark, feline eyes boring into hers. “You were mine then, and you’re mine now. I was going to drag you back when Jimin said you left, but you’re a sneaky little vixen. You managed to get yourself to another city, and Jimin let you go. I should have dragged you back, Jimin’s rules be damned.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” He murmured pulling away and running a hand through his hair. “You’re here now, and neither you or Yoonho are leaving.”

“What are you talking about?”

He laughed the sound hollow and humorless. “Why do you think no one else has touched you for over a year besides Hosoek? They knew you were mine.”

“I thought I was Jimin’s.” She snarked back eyes narrowed. “Just another one of his whores.”

“You’re my whore. No one else is going to touch you.”

“Where you really going to shoot me if I refused to give you Yooonho and come back?” She asked suspicion creeping in the back of her mind.

“I would have dragged you back by your hair.” He promised. “The kid needs his mother.” He leaned in so that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “And I wasn’t about to let that sweet little pussy of yours go a second time.” She grimaced a combination of his words and the uncomfortable feeling of breastfeeding. No one had warned her that breastfeeding hurt. That should have been one of the first things that other mothers told you when you first got pregnant. They should warn you about what you’re in for.

“And who says I’m going to have sex with you?” She challenged eyes flashing.

He smirked against her ear. “We both know you’re not going to deny me.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” She shot back.

He shrugged pulling away a dark grin spreading across his features. “Doesn’t matter. We have a lifetime to figure it out.” He leaned closer again placing another short kiss to her lips. “You and Yoonho aren’t going anywhere.”

“I suppose we aren’t.” She agreed, her lips set in a grim line.

 The wedding didn’t take place for a few weeks. Yoongi and Sen needed some time to settle in as parents, and Sen had not only a newborn to contend with, but she had to whip the apartment into shape. But after a few weeks it looked lived in. Baby toys and paraphernalia littered the living room. One of the spare bedrooms had been converted into a nursery though there was a bassinet in the master bedroom where Yoonho spent most of his nights. Yoongi insisted that she share the master bedroom with him, and it was easier on both parents to keep the little dude in there when he was getting up every few hours for feeding, but they were settling into a schedule much to both Sen and Yoongi’s relief.

The wedding was a small affair. She and Yoongi went to the courthouse. He wore a casual suit, and she wore a knee length white dress, and just like that, she was married. She couldn’t get used to the ring that flashed on her finger. It was simple. Three cushion cut diamonds set on a gold band, but it was pretty.

Namjoon had made sure that all of the boys stayed away from Yoongi and Sen as they settled, but after the wedding, all six men were gathered in the apartment to greet their friend and the new Mrs. Min, as well as to meet the little one that had caused so much fuss.

Jimin was pleased to see her back where she belonged while Hoseok pouted that Yoongi wasn’t going to share anymore. Taehyung wouldn’t share the baby, and Sen was honestly happy for a break even if it was only a small one. Someone else could hold him for a while. Jungkook hovered close to Taehyung waiting for his turn to hold the little one that they all agreed bore a striking resemblance to Yoongi. Jin fussed over the new family’s health asking her questions about her and Yoonho’s health and telling her that she should come visit his own wife once she was recovered. Apparently she was ill and couldn’t attend the celebrations.

It was Namjoon that made her uneasy though. He hovered over the proceedings like a dark cloud. He’d congratulated Yoongi and said hello to the baby, but for the most part he stayed on to the side. She had to wonder if it was because of his own wife’s absence or if he just didn’t like her. As much as she was proud of the other woman for slipping away, she genuinely hoped it was the latter. Namjoon could make her life hell if he didn’t approve of her, and her life was going to be hard enough as Yoongi’s wife.

Yoongi had no real love for her. He liked her. There was even a small amount of respect there, but he didn’t love her. It was possessive. He liked the idea of having his family all together. He liked the idea of having her as his wife and the mother of his child. He’d always been a possessive lover though. She expected nothing less from him as a husband. He put her in her place when she stepped out of line, but for the most part, so long as she behaved and looked after Yoonho, he treated her well. It might not have been the life she wanted, but it could have been worse. It could always be worse.

“Sen.” A deep voice greeted from beside her.

She jumped a little in surprise but turned to find Namjoon seated beside her. “RM-ssi.” She greeted respectfully. She didn’t want any trouble with the leader.

“You have a beautiful son.”

“Thank you.” She eyed him warily wondering why he was really there. He had no reason to talk to her.

“It’s quite the story. How you and Yoongi met, I mean.” She waited to see where he was going to take this, but she had a bad feeling. “Bold of you to run off when you were carrying his child.” She stiffened not liking the sound of that. He leaned closer eyes glinting dangerously. “If you ever try anything like that again, I don’t care if Yoongi cares for you, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes myself. Am I clear?”

She gulped eyes wide and terrified. “Yes, sir.”

“Good!” His expression changed instantly, a charming grin spreading over his lips. “Welcome to the family.”  

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (05)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

"A future without you is a world without color."

 Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au 

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

SERIES: CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 6

The best thing about Red was that she wasn't just your assistant; she was also your friend.

Your one and only girl confidant.

Growing up, you didn't really have a lot of friends. It was probably because you used to be so shy.

Unlike other children, you weren't forced by your parents to interact with kids your age. Why would they do that when you already had everything you needed?

You had the latest toys so you didn't have to play tag or hide and seek with your neighbors. You were also a smart girl. You didn't need to ask for your classmates' help. The only weakness your parents saw was the fact that you only excelled in the academic field. You weren't blessed with a golden voice. You couldn't dance, you couldn't ride a bike. You couldn't even do the basic household chore.

This was all because you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You didn't have to try harder. You had a handmaiden to do all sort of things for you. Your parents paid the school so that you wouldn't have to attend P.E classes or any other extracurricular activities.

You were contented to be alone in your big, princess-like room.

In fact, you only met Jimin, your best friend who was two years younger than you, during college days. He was your classmate in your first ever P.E class. You were already a junior that time. You thought you could skip P.E the way you did in high school, but you were wrong. You ended up in Jimin’s class that time.

The two of you didn’t stop being friends after the semester ended. Actually, you guys became even closer. Jimin was the only person who was by your side when you were breaking down because of school. He cried with you, slept late with you, and he also set you up with a lot of his friends. Unfortunately, you weren't attracted to any of them. You weren't picky. You were just a sucker for soulmates and happy endings. His efforts didn't go to waste though. You became good friends with some of these guys. You were particularly close to Jung Hoseok, a boy your age who was in Jimin's dance class.

Hoseok was a great person, but you still craved the idea of having a girl best friend.

Luckily, you met Red.

You met her months ago—back when she was still a struggling student who was looking for a job in the company where you were working.

"And why would I hire someone like you?" Gahee, your co-worker, snarled at Red. The former didn't like the latter's answers during the interview portion. She said Red was too slow, too soft. She wasn't fit to become a lawyer like the rest of you.

"I'm sorry..." This was another issue. Red kept on apologizing. She had a very low self-esteem.

You knew right there and then that this girl wouldn't be hired. Out of the five interviewers, you were certain that you're the only one who was in favor of this intern.

Why?

It was because Red reminded you of your younger self.

As stated, you were a shy kid. But then law school changed you. To survive, you needed to act tough—you constantly needed put on a mask just so you could reach the 'standard' of what a lawyer should be like.

Most of the time, it worked. There were cases, however, wherein you became clouded by your own judgment. Some of your colleagues said you were too empathetic—always rescuing people from their misery.

You were doing it again.

"I'm going to hire her." These were your exact words just as Red was about to leave.

She stopped walking. Red turned to look at you. Confusion was apparent all over her face. Were you serious?

The other interviewers couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth, so naturally, they protested.

You simply raised your brow at them.

"I said what I said. She's going to be my new assistant." You pointed at Red who still looked so shocked.

"But we don't want to work with her!" Gahee groaned.

"So?"

Gahee's face turned pale because of your response. You arched your brow higher.

"It doesn't matter if you don't want her. She's going to work for me."

The interviewers went silent.

You see, no one could ever question your decision. You might be 'too soft' for some of them, but they still couldn't deny that you were damn good at your job. Your personality in the office was very different from what your family and friends knew. For them, you would always be that quiet little girl who couldn't speak for herself. In here, you were young, but sophisticated. A lion in a world full of kittens.

"Ms. Red Lee's my responsibility from now on. If you have a problem with her, you can talk to me."

This was the beginning of your friendship with Red. At first, she was skeptical of your intention. Why would you want to work with someone like her?

"Because I believe in you." You offered her a smile when she finally found the courage to ask you the question that had been bothering her since the first time she met you.

Red had been your assistant for months now; however, your co-workers still didn't like her. It was as though they were waiting for her to make a mistake.

She did.

"How's our case going? Did our client take the color vision test?" You inquired days before the trial of your client who wanted to sue the business person who sold her fake whitening products. This was a simple case. You didn't understand why your client wanted to go to trial; this could simply be settled without going to the court.

"There's no need for that. I've already talked to her."

"Hm?"

"Well..." Red took a seat beside you. She was blushing. "Remember when I told you I've met my soulmate?"

"Oh. Right!" You beamed at her. How lucky. "So did you break up with JK?"

Red told you she had a boyfriend named JK. You honestly didn't know much about him or their relationship, though you were informed that they had been together for almost a decade, unfortunately, they weren't soulmates.

"I did." The smile she gave you was sad. "But he didn't take it well..."

You didn't know what to say after that. Admittedly, you had urged Red to breakup with her boyfriend because you didn't appreciate that she was keeping him in the dark. It was unfair.

"But anyway," Red sounded so excited that you couldn't help but giggle. "I've talked to your client. I'm sure she can see color since her answer was right when I asked her if she can tell me the color of the shirt I'm wearing."

"Okay, then."

It was stupid of you to rely on Red's words and you knew it. This was the reason why you couldn't defend yourself when your boss humiliated you in front of everyone. As if that wasn't awful enough, your superior also excluded you from the biggest case you were working on.

Gahee was the new head of that case.

"I'm sorry!" Red was crying. You took accountability for what she had done. She was your assistant after all.

"It's okay, Red." You smiled despite the fact that you were breaking inside. Your boss made you look like a fool. You couldn't erase the image of your colleagues smirking that was circling inside your head.

You were no longer a lion.

"I-It's not okay! You lost the case!" She knew that you spent months working on the mentioned case your boss removed you from. Everyone was jealous of you. They wanted to handle that case. Now, Gahee had the chance. You lost yours.

You embraced Red. You couldn't bear to see anyone crying.

"But I'm still handling Mr. Kim Seokjin's case." You stared into her eyes. "That's the only case I want to handle. Trust me."

Red sobbed even harder. She understood what you meant. You lost the biggest case, but at least you were still Mr. Kim's lawyer. Again, his case was more important to you and Red.

"I'm going home. Is that okay? Can you handle yourself?" You couldn't work with a heavy heart. You needed to see Miri. You needed a bath. You needed a break.

Fortunately, Red let you go.

Ever since that day, your assistant became more hyperaware of your needs and wants. She was certain she owed you a lot. This was the reason why you couldn't understand why Jeongguk was crying now.

"G-Gukkie?" You swallowed hard when you saw tears streaming down his cheeks.

Again, Red knew what you needed. You were sure she gave you the correct recipe for kongnamul guk. So why was Jeongguk weeping as he ate the soup you made?

It couldn't be because it didn't taste good. You followed Red's recipe. It was perfect! Everyone loved her soup.

Your soulmate didn't answer you. He also refused to look at you. It was embarrassing enough that you could see his overflowing emotions.

Jeongguk wondered why the world was so cruel to him. He woke up a few minutes ago with a heavy head, and then the first thing he spotted was you.

You were standing near his feet; a lovely smile was plastered on your face. Jeongguk didn't understand why you were grinning at him like that.

Weren't you mad? He remembered everything that happened last night. He acted like an asshole.

Jeongguk's suspicion grew when you handed him an ibuprofen and a glass of water. Not only that, you also told him that you cooked soup to help him with his throbbing head. He was too tired and shy to refuse you, so without saying anything, he let you drag him to the dining table.

You prepared everything for Gukkie. The only thing he had to do was eat. The thing was, he couldn't even do that.

Tears filled his eyes the moment he tasted the soup. He was looking directly at you while bring the spoon closer to his mouth—this was how you acted last night. This was what pissed him off. You were scowling, making him feel like he was the worst cook ever.

How was he different from you when he was acting the same way? The only thing that changed was his expression. As said, he was crying instead of frowning.

It broke your heart.

"Say something please?" You begged. You felt your chest tightening. Did you make him cry? Were you wrong? Red's recipe was perfect, maybe it was you who fucked things up. Did you put too much salt? Too much bean sprout?

What was wrong?

Jeongguk shook his head, harshly wiping his tears away. He didn't say anything. He didn't make it seem like he hated the soup. Actually, he finished it within a few minutes.

"I'm going to my room." He abruptly stood up, hanging his head low.

"T-Thanks for the food."

The way Jeongguk acted made you realize that you couldn't really cook, not even when the perfect recipe was literally in front of you; however, this didn't stop you from making dinner that same day.

Your soulmate locked himself in his room since morning. He hadn't eaten anything other than that soup and frankly, you were getting worried. You didn't want him to get sick.

It was going to take a while to have your food delivered, so you just decided to cook instant ramen. It had always been your life savior.

"What are you doing?"

You stopped trying to open the stove when Jeongguk suddenly spoke up.

He instantly realized what you were doing, causing him to grimace.

"You can't eat instant ramen for the rest of your life, you know? It's very unhealthy." Jeongguk shook his head, disappointed.

You bit your lower lip. It was the only food you knew how to prepare by heart. You didn't want to upset him again by trying to cook something that didn't taste good.

"I'm gonna prepare our dinner." He announced and you nodded.

You were starving. It was Sunday, but you still needed to work. You stayed in the living room the whole day, talking to Mr. Kim Seokjin about his case. Miri wasn't around to keep you company. That cat of yours stayed with Jeongguk the whole day. What a traitor.

"Okay. I'll be in my room if ever you need help." You said.

"Wait!" Jeongguk held your wrist, stopping you from leaving.

"I-Is gimbap okay?" His voice was soft as he asked this. He realized he needed to talk to you about your likes and dislikes. He couldn't just prepare something and get mad if you ended up disliking it.

"Uh..."

Jeongguk could feel your hesitation. It wasn't like you hated gimbap, but you had too much of it yesterday. Red made twenty five pieces when you told her you were craving it.

"Tell you what," Jeongguk let go of your hand. "Why don't we just eat out? Do you like pizza? What about pasta?"

He kept on suggesting food you could try, but nothing was registering inside your mind. The only thing you could think of was this:

"We're going on a date?" Your eyes were sparkling.

"What?" Jeongguk asked, dumbfounded. Out of the many things he had said, this was the only thing you could think about?

"You said we're gonna eat outside! It means we're going on a date!" You were smiling shamelessly.

Jeongguk's eyes widened. He was panicking. He didn't know why his heart was beating so fast just by the thought of going out on a date with you.

"I-I..." He swallowed hard. "We could invite T-Tae and Jimin."

Jeongguk panicked more upon realizing what he just said. No. He couldn't bear to see his best friend right now. Jeongguk hadn't told anyone that he could see colors now—well, except Yoongi.

Jeongguk wasn't ready yet. He felt guilty. He knew he was the reason why you couldn't see colors. He didn't want Taehyung and Jimin to be disappointed in him. Besides, he didn't want the couple to pester him about liking you. Again, that wasn't going to happen.

Jeongguk was about to withdraw his statement, unfortunately, you were already telling him that it was a good idea.

"So how are you, Guk?"

This was the story how Jeongguk ended up eating sushi with Taehyung.

The couple accepted your invitation. The four of you were supposed to eat together, but Jimin claimed he needed to talk to you. Alone.

Taehyung didn't protest. He missed Jeongguk too. It had been a while since they last talked. This was the perfect time to finally catch up.

"Nothing new." Jeongguk shrugged nonchalantly.

"Really?" Taehyung raised a brow. He could tell when his best friend was hiding something. "So you don't consider being able to see colors as something new, huh?"

Jeongguk's head jerked up.

"You know!?"

Taehyung laughed. Of course he knew. You told Jimin and Jimin told Taehyung. The latter was simply waiting for Jeongguk to open up.

He couldn't wait forever though. Jeongguk could be stubborn sometimes.

"She also told us that you cried earlier..."

Jeongguk pursed his lips into a thin line. Damn it. You couldn't keep anything to yourself, could you?

"I did not." Jeongguk gritted his teeth. The tears forming in his eyes were in contrast to what he was saying.

Jeongguk indeed cried earlier. Taehyung could tell because the younger boy was crying again.

"Guk..." Taehyung caressed Jeongguk's clenched fist.

"Wanna tell your hyung what happened?" The voice of Jeongguk's best friend was like a lullaby.

Jeongguk cried even harder.

Truthfully, he was surprised with himself too. Jeongguk had always been emotional, but his stubborn ass refused to let other people see him cry. This was new. The Jeongguk Taehyung knew would keep his mouth shut.

The Jeongguk today couldn't stop talking.

"I got so drunk last night, hyung. She..." Jeongguk looked at Taehyung to make sure that he understood that the she he was referring to was you.

"She cooked kongnamul guk for me."

Taehyung was silent after that. He tried to understand what Jeongguk was saying. Sadly, he couldn't.

"Are you telling me that you're crying because she prepared a soup for you?" Taehyung sounded unsure.

Jeongguk shook his head; tears were still streaming down his cheeks.

"No. I was just reminded of..." He trailed off.

"Of what?"

For a moment, Jeongguk was silent. His heart was hurting.

"Of the mean things I've said to her." Jeongguk sobbed.

It was a bad idea to look at you while he was trying to eat. Jeongguk's eyes accidentally fell into your lips. It was swollen—a reminder that you still ate the garlic shrimp even though you were allergic to it.

Jeongguk felt like an evil person.

Why were you always so kind to him? No one treated him the way you treated him. It was too good to be true.

"Oh." Taehyung broke into a huge grin and suddenly, he was chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Jeongguk was talking in a pout.

"Nothing!" The best friend's laugh had died down, but he was still smiling. "Is she tricking me, then? Can't she really see colors?"

For Taehyung, it was impossible that you were still living a monochromatic life. It was obvious that Jeongguk cared for your feelings. However, Jimin thought the opposite.

"Seriously? God. I hate that brat so much!" Jimin didn't know that he was capable of hating Jeongguk, but after listening to your story, he couldn't help the annoyance he felt for your soulmate.

You were currently inside a restaurant that was just across the sushi bar where Jeongguk and his boyfriend were at.

Jimin missed you as much as Taehyung missed his best friend. The last time you two communicated was three weeks ago. You did tell him that Jeongguk was your soulmate and that he didn't seem to like you.

Jimin brushed it off at first. He told you to give Jeongguk some time. He failed to tell you that your soulmate just went through a tough breakup though. Jimin knew it wasn't his story to tell.

"Don't. Gukkie's a good person. He just didn't know any better."

"It’s because he isn't trying!" Jimin crossed his arms. He was aware that it was unfair to get mad at Jeongguk, but your best friend could tell that you were getting hurt because of your soulmate's insensitivity.

"If I were you, I would give up on him."

You shook your head instead of agreeing to his statement.

"Jeongguk reminds me of law school."

When Jimin raised his brow, you started to elucidate what you meant.

No one, not even your parents, believed in you when you told them you were going to law school. Sure, you were smart, but you weren't strong like others. You cry immediately. You couldn't handle harsh opinions. You couldn't even handle sleepless nights and intense competition. You hated conflict. You had always been a mediator.

Even Jimin tried to stop you. He asked you so many times if you truly wanted this. It's not that he didn't trust you. Your best friend was only concerned about your well-being. He was there when you were having a difficult college semester. Undergraduate life was clearly much easier compared to graduate school. Jimin couldn't let you lose yourself just because of law school.

But you were determined to prove them wrong. Yes, law school was hard, but you were stronger. If you remained passionate about learning the law, you knew you would become a lawyer.

Guess what? You did.

This was what you were holding onto every time you felt like giving up on Jeongguk.

Pain was nothing if you could make him fall in love with you.

"Jeon Jeongguk!" You shouted when you saw Taehyung and your soulmate walking out of the sushi bar.

You and Jimin had also finished eating.

Your soulmate looked at you with furrowed brow. He didn't understand why you were shouting when the two of you were just a few meters away from each other.

"I LIKE YOU!" You shouted once again. Your voice was so loud that people couldn't help but look at you.

You were gaining attention.

Taehyung and Jimin were laughing their asses off. Jeongguk tried to run away, but his best friend held him down.

"You're fucking crazy!" Jimin shook his head, still laughing when you started to form a big heart over your head.

"I LIKE YOU SO MUCH, JEON JEONGGUK." You continued.

Jeongguk was dying of embarrassment, but you didn't care.

You were sure.

Jeon Jeongguk was going to love you.

[we-have-bangtan]

BCO (Bulletproof Crime Org.)

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Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Theme: Mafia au, poly au, smut, gore

Warning: Swearing, smut, gore, Hobi and Jimin smooch.

VERY UN-EDITED

SO SO SO LONG

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Chapter 1 || chapter 2 ||

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She was tempted to smash the window with the tennis ball she had been given in order to stay entertained. She hadn’t realized how boring house arrest was in all these years, she vowed to never let any of her victims go through this.

               She stood up, going to look out the window again, gang members littered the lawn, 2 to the right, 3 towards the corner of the building and 2 more directly across from the window. She’d have a tough time running away, not that she had any plan to do that.

  She felt like Rapunzel in Mother Gothel’s castle, just that here she had 7 mother Gothels. She considered throwing the ball as hard as she could at the two men, one with pink hair and the other with black hair, to the right of the window; just to practice her aim. She decided against it, picking up an apple from the fruit basket Taehyung had delivered to her this morning, preferring to chuck an apple at them instead. 

    She leaned out of the window, aiming with one eye closed and threw it with all her might, the apple she had thrown meeting the head of the one with pink hair, “Heyyyy” the boy yelped in shock, looking all around to look for where the apple came from, he didn’t notice her in the window right behind him.

   The boy with black  hair seemed to convince the guy that he was imagining stuff. The two of them went back to their conversation as Yn smirked to herself, finally some entertainment, she thought as she grabbed the smaller basket on grapes, tossing one of them at the pink haired one again before quickly moving away from the window just as someone knocked on the door. 

   “Come in” she yelled, hurriedly moving away from the window as Jungkook peeked into the room before entering, “Supp” he asked, looking around her room, it was nice, comfortable and bright, it had a very comfortable bed and an arm chair that was a little squeaky, “Same ol’, bored, how long will I be under house arrest?” she asked making the youngest of the boys raise an eyebrow at her.

   “You’ll be under house arrest till your injuries have healed, and the fuck you mean bored, I could literally see you throwing fruits at Yeonjun” he said, calling her out on her bullshit, “yah, what am I supposed to do when I’m bored” she defended, Jungkook walked over to the window as he spoke, “I didn’t say you had to stop, I actually came to join you” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the black haired fellow.

      She quietly dragged a chair towards the window, taking the fruit basket with her as well, handing Jungkook an orange before taking a grape for herself. Jungkook aimed at the dude’s head with all the concentration that he had before throwing the fruit which met with the poor boy’s forehead. 

   “Aish, you blew my cover” Yn huffed as the guy looked up at them. “Ah, don’t worry about it, I can entertain you instead” he assured as he saw Soobin take Yeonjun away from the window to a place out of their range. 

     Soobin would have given anyone else a piece of his mind if they had done that to him but now that it was Jungkook and the boss lady, he would lose his life if he even looked at them wrongly. He’d complain about it to Jin hyung later he decided before going back to his conversation with Yeonjun.

    Jungkook fell back on Yn’s bed as she too moved away from the window to join him, making sure not to put any pressure on her injuries. “I need clothes of my own don’t you think?” she said, looking down at the clothes one of the girls in the compound had lent her, they were nice but not exactly her style.

      “Why, are the ones you have now not enough?” he question taking a moment to look over the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, “It’s not they aren’t enough, it’s just that they aren’t my style” she admitted as she toyed with the hem of her sleeve. 

  She and Jungkook had come to a mutually understand each other in the past three days. He’d come to the room to check up on her and somehow managed to stay back to entertain her for a while before he’d have to go again. He was a few months older than her and was constantly bugging her about it, he’d whine and groan when ever she didn’t use any honorifics but he had come to the understanding that she was not going to use honorifics with him or anyone in the group.

He was comforting and entertaining and a dumbass at times, but he was nice, he wasn’t the 7th leader of Bulletproof crime org, the biggest criminal organisation in Korea. He was Jungkook, a goofy 24 year old with an addiction to banana milk.

      “We’ll see, I’ll as Namjoon hyung if we can go to the mall, do you have money?” he asked as he got up from his spot to strecth his body a little. “Ayaaa, my card is at the compound back home, I need to sneak in to get it” she huffed, already devicing an action plan on how she would get it back. 

              “You can just open another account you know, no need to go back home, how much was in it anyway?” he asked, worried for her safety although he knew she could handle herself.

        She really didn’t have to risk her life to get a dumb credit card, plus, cash was better than car, it didn’t leave tracks anywhere. Jungkook looked at the pretty girl in front of him, she looked like she was contemplating whether to go or not. He didn’t want her to go, honestly. It was a waste, what if she got caught by her old gang, they’d behead her themselves. “20 million won, and I need to end them anyway, might as well get some work done when I go to get my card” she answered leaving Jungkook’s jaw hanging.

    “20 MILLION WON??????” he exclaimed, “does the bank not get suspicious? how did you even get that much money?” he questioned, eyes wide with concern for the 23 year old. “It’s a bank run by a close friend who will be relieved if I show up there, but I cna’t go to the bank yet, I’m wanted” she explained, popping a grape in her mouth before continuing, “And i get money the same way you do, through deals and private missions” she answered. 

 “Do you have private clients?” he asked, he had never been a private assaissin nor had he ever met anyone who was a private assassin, he was curious about it. “Yeah, most of them are politicians or other gang leaders” she answered, “anyway when is the earliest that I can get out of here?” she questioned, successfully diverting the topic. 

  “Probably in a few days” he answered, being vague on purpose. “Be more specific” she demanded making him chuckle, “Aish, so demanding” he teased, before continuing, “The day after tomorrow, if all your injuries heal properly” he finished, heading to the door, 

   “ Ynnnn holding Jungkook us again I see” Hobi playfully scolded as he brought a bag of snacks to the table, giving her a bag of shrimp crackers that she had asked for when he had told her that he was going to town for business and asked if she needed anything. “Thank you!” she said, grabbing the packet before ripping it apart, “Aish, I didn’t know you liked them that much or I would have bought more” Hobi said watching as the young assassin devoured the crackers two at a time. “You guys literally gave me fruits, which sane person would have fruit as a snack” she accused as Jungkook left the room quietly so he didn’t have the patience for her whining right now.

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                      2 DAYS LATER

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“I’m free, I’m free, I’m free” Yn yelled as she went into Namjoon’s office, Namjoon just groaned at how noisy she was before asking her to take a seat. “Do you have somewhere to be immediately?” he asked her as the rest of the boys filed in to join the discussion. 

       “No where important, but I need to get my money” she answered, Namjoon nodded, Jungkook had told him about it earlier. “Will you do that before or after your test? and when do you want to take your test?” he asked making her look at him with a raised eyebrow, “can I finish the test now and I can leave for a short while to get my shit done before I come back” she asked, he nodded.

       A gunshot echoed through the compund as Yn moved out of the way, Jimin had fired a wax bullet at her, it wasn’t meant to hit her. Just to warn her. She quickly climbed onto the chair as Namjoon yelled the rules, she could run anywhere in the mansion at the count of three, but the moment she was hit with the bullet she was out, 30 men were out there to catch her, she had an hour and if she passed the test she was eligible to join the gang.

 It was basically a game of tag except that it was 1 against 30 and she didn’t have any weapons either, “Do I get a gun too?” she asked, scanning the room frantically for a way out. “Sure, if you want but it will have only 5 bullets, anyone who gets hit cannot hunt you anymore” Namjoon said, laying out the conditions out for her, she nodded and was quickly tossed a revolver, she checked her ammo before tucking the gun away in her waist band. “Do I get to hurt anyone?” she asked again, gaining a nod from Namjoon.

          She held her breath, hearing multiple guns being loaded, which way to go? should she make for the door? no. Taehyung was guarding it, what about the table? no again, Namjoon was staring at her with a revolver in hand, casually spinning it like it was a toy. She never thought a man with a revolver, ready to shoot her would look that sexyy.

She looked left and right, Jungkook and Yoongi were on one side waiting for Namjoon’s count and it was the same case for Jimin and Jin. “1!” Namjoon hollered as she looked all around the room, she should be prepared, “2!” he counted as her eyes landed on the window, her mouth curved into a smirk, she found her escape. 

  “3!” Namjoon yelled as she leaped out off the chair as high as she could, landing directly in front of the window before jumping over, “GET HER!!!!!!!” Hobi yelled as he barged out of the office chasing after her. 

    Yn’s thigh stung as she landed in the floor below the office, it looked like a sort of library with rows and rows of floor to ceiling shelves full of books, she quickly jamp atop a shelf, laying herself flat aginst it as she dragged herself by her hands to the end of the row noticing Beomgyu not very far away from her. She silently crept down, using the shelves as a ladder to climb down from the top, she clenched her teeth when a few books fell from the shelf she was holding on to.

   Beomgyu turned around to see what the sound was, he looked down at the fallen books with confusion, ‘must have been the wind’ he thought with a shrug turning around when a sharp pain went through his head before blackness enveloped him.

    ‘Heh, weak boi” Yn thought as she rubbed her knuckles, despite how effective temple punches were, they were a bitch when it came to the pain to her knuckeles. Just as she was going to relax from this dumb game she heard Hobi’s voice outside. He was loudly talking to Jimin who was being just as loud. 

    She climed the shelves when she heard them some closer and almost lost her shit when she saw them enter the library, she didn’t want to hurt them or shoot them, yet. She peeped down at them watching as Hoseok went through the library never once looking up before he stop right under the shelf she was on. 

  “Yah, Hobi hyung, what do yout think of her?” Jimin asked as he leaned against the shelf, they didn’t seem to sense her presence in the room. “She’s nice, she’ll fit in well with us” Hobi admitted as he moved closer to him, pushing Jimin against the shelf, Yn almost popped an imaginary boner when she saw them roughly kiss each other. She wanted to look away, she really did, but she couldn’t tae her eyes away from the two of them.

     She made the mistake of trying to get more comfortable, caying the shelf to creak making the two lovers move away from each other, she quickly grabbed her gun, moving as silently as she could as Hobi and Jimin looked around to find her, “Ynnieee, I know your here” Hobi sang as he walked into the row a little away from her, “click, aim, shoot” she whispered to herself as her hands followed the actions watching with glee as Hobi yelped attracting Jimin’s attention.

    Yn quickly jumped out of the window again, climing up the water pipe to Namjoon’s office only to see Yoongi relaxing in Namjjon’s boss chair, a glass of bourbon in front of him, she hung by the window sill, trying her hardest not to be seen as but she felt someone grab onto her leg, pulling her down. She quickly kicked the hand off, looking down to see Jimin with a mischevious grin on his face,   

    “Yah, Jimin-ah let go!!” she yelled as she struggled to maintain her grip on the window sill, Yoongi heard her yell and grinned as he walked towards the window , he looked down at her with a sadistic grin on his face, he looked like Scar from the Lion ing for a moment there, with his hands on Yn’s, ready to push her off just like how Scar had done to Mufasa. 

   “Okayyy super villain, pull me up and I’ll give you like 2 million won” she bribed, kicking at JImin’s hands aggressively, “Make that 4 million and you have a deal” he countered, “how about 3 million instead?” she bargained, giving him an almost blinding grin when he pulled her up. 

   “You better keep that bargain up and don’t kill anyone” he said as he dusted his hands off before retaking his seat.”I swear I will! and I can’t promise that I won’t kill anyone” Yn yelled as she casually strolled out of the office only to come face to face with Taehyung, he gave her a naughty grin, “Gotcha” he said, grabbing her arm, she quickly jabbed at his neck and the unsuspecting fellow fell to the ground with a thud. 

  “I told you not to kill anyone” Yoongi said, peeking from a crack in the door. “He’s not dead” she assured as she made for the staircase, crawling up so no one can spot her. She checked the time in the fancy Rolex that she had stolen from an unconcious Tae, 30 minutes had passed, 30 more to go. 

  She snuck up the stairs when she saw Yeonjun on the other end of the sprawling corridor, quickly preparing her gun she set her aim, steadying her hand before she pulled the trigger, the gunshot was loud and echoed through the compund as the bullet hit Yeonjun in the side, he didn’t seem surprised infact, he tured towards her with a smirk before gesturing for her to look up.

       She tilted her neck to look above her to see seventeen men staring down at her, their guns aimed straight at her, she held her breath as she jamp down thw stairs right as they all fired their guns, she almost got hit more than once but she was quick enough to get out of the way before they could touch her.

  She huffed as she ran down the stairs, scolding herself for not hitting the gym as regularly as she could. She could feel how unfit she was, she was out of breath and panting, she was hungry from all the running around and she realized just how much of her stamina had gone down in the last few days.

   She huffed and cursed as she ran downstairs, but hurriedly crept away when she heard footsteps, she cursed to herself as she hid, holding her gun out incase she might need it. She took a deep breath, waiting for the person to pass her when pain shot through her arm, Jungkook stood next to her, his grip tight on her elbow causing her great pain. She quickly jabbed at his stomach making him let go of her before she grabbed his gun from his pocket, he seemed to be unprepared to catch her explaining why his gun was still in the hollister.

          She pointed her own gun at Jungkook’s head, a grin taking over her tired and sweaty face, Jungkook almost fell for her in that instand, seeing her hold a gun to his head, looking fucking gorgeous with at smile on her face. He steped closer, pressing his head against the nozzle of the gun, Yn instinctively took a step bac only for her back to hit the wall when a sudden yell made them junp away from each other. 

     “You’re supposed to shoot each other, not make out you know” Jin yelled looking down at them from the top of the stairs, he wasn’t gonna lie, he had felt thirsty when he had seen the two of them in that position. Yn pointed Jungkook’s gun at Seokjin and pulled the trigger only for Jin to duck away fromt he bullet, “Stay fucking still” Yn growled as she took aim again.

      Jungkook almost went feral at the sound Yn made. Her gun still pressed to his head. The next shot rang out, hitting Jin in the chest and Jin dramatically fell to the ground holding his heart, “What a damsel,” Yn scoffed as she kicked Jungkook away from her before shooting him with his own gun. 

   Jungkook wasn’t even offended that he had lost the game, he happily hopped up the stairs to join Jin hyung who was going to the kitchen to make a snack for himself, the bright orange stains on their clothes, a batch of both honor and shame.

  Yn looked around the mansion when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned around to see Soobin standing behind her with an unimpressed look on his face, “Supp” she said with a wave, “everyone is looking for you, Jimin hyung is convinced that you ran away”  he said, rushing her to Namjoon’s mansion. 

   The boys were quiet surprised to see Yn being shoved into the office, her face puffy and her hair sticking out in every way, thry thought she had ran away. “Where were you,we’ve been lookig for you everywhere” Namjoon said as Seokjin walked towards her to take the revolvers from her, tossing the purple one to Jungkook and tucking the other one in his own holister.

   “Taking a nap” she answered cheekily as Namjoon got behind his desk, “Did you hurt yourself anywhere?” he asked as he pulled out a box from one of the drawers, she shook her head, craning her neck to be able to see what was in the box.

   “Good, because you have a mission” Namjoon said, pulling out a sleek dagger from the box, its handle had a snake design, making it look like the snake was coiling itself around the handle, the sharp blade, glinting in the light. 

    “Yahh, so pretty” Yn said as she reached for the dagger only for Namjoon to pull it back, “not for you, I’m supposed to take a blood oath of loyalty” he said, as he took a hold of her wrist, “Don’t cut too deep” she said as he placed the blade on her thumb, he pushed down on it causing it to bleed before letting a few drop trickle down her thumb onto the paper with the oath written on it, right next to her name.

“Congratulations Yn, you are now a member of the Bulletproof crime organisation, I’ll give you a week to settle all matters outside the organisation.” Namjoon said, putting the paper away.

  “Can I still continue with my private assassinations?” she asked, sucking on her bleeding thumb, “Yes, on the condition that you give 10% of whatever you earn to the mafia and we have a say in which missions you accept” Yoongi said as he too got up to go have dinner. 

 “As long as you don’t push too much, we’re good.” she said, before following him to the dining room. 

    She needed to eat up, she had work to do tomorrow.

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A/n: Next chapter will be up whenever I find time to write. <3

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Taglist:

@thefreddieman

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[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

[thiswasinevitableid]

If you are still taking meet ugly prompts, sternclay 22 nsfw???

Here you go!

22: you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship.

Note: I interpreted "first date" loosely. Slight content warning for mentions of blackmail, including blackmailing someone into a relationship.

It’s hard to tell where the sting of gin on his tongue ends and the sharpness of the pines through the window begins. The combination would invigorate him were it not for the conversation playing out at the other end of the short bar.

“...Last time, I’m not leaving.” The bartender, a mountain of a man who Joseph would love to climb, has been dealing with a persistent suitor for the better part of an hour. They’re the only people in the place; ski season is far behind them and summer isn’t here yet.

“C’mon, you’ve got no reason to hang around.”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” The bartender finishes cleaning glasses, turns to put them up.

“Don’t you fucking turn your back on me! I’m not through with you, oughta drag you outta here by your hair you cheap, dull-”

The next word is an unkind name for men who, like Joseph, prefer men in their beds. The bartender doesn’t respond, though his hands tighten around the glasses. Damn it, the world did not go for a second war just for him to let everyday evil slide by.

“That’s enough.” Joseph stands, moving to where the other patron wobbles on his stool, “him being uninterested doesn’t give you the right to abuse him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.”

“I know that if you don’t leave, I’ll escort you out.”

The man throws up his hands, spits at Joseph’s feet before stumbling and stomping for the door, “Three years, Barclay, you’re throwing away three years in one night, and you’re gonna regret it. I’ll make sure you do!”

“Don’t think you will.” Barclay mumbles as the door slams. He’s twisting his dishrag to the point it’s ripping.

“Three years? Good lord, I thought he was just a run-of-the-mill drunk.”

“Nope. If you can call him tracking me down every few months a relationship.”

“I’m sorry.” Joseph pulls out his handkerchief, kneeling to clean up the spit, “still, I apologize for getting in the middle of a, um, lovers quarrel.”

“Please don’t, I’m glad you stepped in. Don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t.” His brown eyes study Joseph more closely, “have I seen you here before?”

“Through there.” He indicates the pass-through to the kitchen, “I come here as often as I can since the food can’t be beat.”

“Thanks.” Barclay smiles, starts wiping the counter, “yeah, Dani usually tends bar after the kitchen closes but her wife is down with the flu. Only seemed fair to let her take time to look after her.”

A big heart to go with a big frame? Joseph’s in big trouble.

“You, uh, you up here for the lakes or…” He’s now directly across from Joseph, sliding a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.

“I’m a private detective, a one man operation as of 1949; Kepler’s the optimal spot for me, since it’s between the mountain towns and the eastern edge of the city. That’s a lot of people who might need help. Not to mention lots of the residents closer to the lakes are wealthy, the kind where they’re always looking for someone to trail a straying spouse or track down the pearls their no-good layabout son sold for dope.” He lets a little bit of scorn enter his voice in hopes of letting Barclay know he doesn’t always agree with his clients, but that a man has to make a living.

Barclay rolls his shoulders, then leans forward, “any fun cases so far?”

Joseph pulls off his jacket as he thinks; if Barclay’s really interested, they might be here awhile.

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

He’s an early riser, so the banging on the door to his house (and office) interrupts his breakfast and not his rest. Joseph opens it and then fights to keep it that way.

“Detective Hayes. This is a surprise.” He smiles.

“I’m not here to catch up, Stern. I’m here so you can answer one, simple question: where were you between eleven-thirty and midnight last night?”

“In the dining room at Amnesty Lodge, talking with the bartender. If you need to verify that, just go to the Lodge and ask for Barclay.”

Hayes glowers in a way he recognizes as, “this won’t be an easy case like I assumed” and turns without a word. Two officers follow him. The third, Dewey, hesitates. He’d always been a pal. Joseph shoots him a confused look.

“Guy got shot in the woods near the Lodge last night. His only known contact in town was the bartender, and everyone else we questioned said the two had been arguing for a few days. Hayes thought the cook was a shoo-in to book but, well, his alibi aligns with what you said. Plus, some ranger Owens talked to said he saw Barclay talking to someone in the dining room at the time of the murder. Guess he was walking by the window on his way to-”

“Dewey! Get the hell over here!”

As his informant scurries up the hill to join the others, Joseph steps back inside to finish his toast. He only gets through one piece before the phone rings, summoning him to the managers office at Amnesty Lodge.

Madeline “Mama” Cobb sits behind her desk, whittling with the kind of force that suggests she’s doing this in place of putting her knife to another use.

“Barclay tells me you’re a detective.”

“That’s right, Miss. Cobb.”

“Great. I’m hirin’ you to find out who the hell killed his useless ex and is tryin to frame him for it.”

He sits down, intrigued, “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”

“I ain’t inclined to trust ‘em. Barclay can’t think of someone who’d set him up, and the police don’t think he was. Yet. But I happen to know there were scraps of a shirt Barclay owns on the trees nearby and that the fella who died had this on him.”

She holds a crumpled paper out. He unfolds it, reads, “Come to the old mill at a quarter until midnight. B.” He looks up, “meant to stand for Barclay, one would assume?”

“Yep. Whoever wrote that did a decent job forgin it.”

“How can you be sure it’s fake?”

“Because I got plenty of documents where Barclay describes a time. He just uses numbers, not words like ‘quarter until.”

“Did you suspect a set-up before you lifted this from the body so the cops wouldn’t find it?” Joseph tucks the note into his inside pocket.

“Course I did. You’re new in town, but there ain’t a person here who’d say Barclay is anythin but gentle. He ain’t about to shoot someone in cold blood, even that fucker.” She sighs, takes off her hat and runs a hand through greying hair, “that boy is as good as a brother to me. I know he’s been through some rough shit. He don’t deserve to get caught up in some goddamn murder scheme. So name your price, Mr. Stern; so long as it keeps him outta trouble, I’ll pay it.”

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

He’s elbow-deep in Barclay’s dresser when the cook returns from his shift; he gave Joseph permission to search his room for signs of whoever took his shirt, but still, the other man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.

“I’m sorry, but I have to be thorough. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”

“S’fine.” Barclay slumps down on the bed. After a moment he murmurs, “I know Mama hired you, but is there anyway I can convince you to quit? She, the Lodge doesn’t have much cash to spare this time of year. I don’t want anyone going without on my account and, and maybe this will all blow over if I just lie low, y’know?”

“It might. But until I think that’s the outcome, I’m inclined to agree with Miss. Cobb that we should work to keep you clear of this. And” he watches Barclay stand, moving to the window so he won’t have to see Joseph rifling through his life, “I promise that if it comes down to getting paid or bankrupting the Lodge, I’ll stop taking my fee. This is a good place and, um, it clearly means a lot to you. That makes it worth some belt-tightening on my end.”

“Thanks.” Barclay stares into the woods, then looks over his shoulder, “Joseph, I-”

It’s only because the mirror is above the dresser that he sees the black barrel peek from the trees. With no time to yell, he dives forward, pulling Barclay to the floor as the first bullet makes shards of the window.

“What the fuck?!” Barclay covers his head as another shot flies over them

“I think we just confirmed Miss. Cobb’s theory!” He pops up, fires once, and drops back down. Whoever’s in the trees isn’t expecting someone armed, so in place of another bullet they get breaking branches.

Joseph gives chase, leaping out the window and sprinting into the trees. Were they in downtown L.A, hell, even if he was still in Chicago, he’d have a better chance of staying on his target. But there’s no paths, no short-cuts, and every tree looks the same at this speed, cloaking the shape in the distance. Worst of all, he discovers that instead of dead-ending at a brick wall, he dead ends at a rockface.

Oh, and his hand is bleeding. He must have cut himself jumping out the window.

It looks like his investigation just took on a bodyguard element, and his wish to spend more time with Barclay could end with them both looking like swiss cheese.

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

“You could talk to Duck.” Barclay finishes bandaging the slash on the back of Joseph’s left hand, “he works in the state park near here and knows a ton about the layout of the woods. There, not too tight?” He sits back on his heels as Joseph tests the tightness of the bandage.

“It’s great, big guy. Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“I don’t mind it” he winks, “pretty boy.”

His visit with Duck the next day, while informative, doesn’t give him much insight into how their assailant disappeared, especially when Duck points out that the rock face he ran across is over a mile long and hard to climb without equipment or a death wish. At least the ranger outfits him with a map with written-in details; most are about trails that are likely to be muddy (and thus hold prints) or spots where a person might be able to hide. And some hike recommendations, just because.

He tries not to think about taking Barclay on the one to a secluded lake and fucking him under the stars.

His schedule alternates between sitting in his office taking and making calls, shadowing Barclay when he’s out on errands or otherwise vulnerable (he’s spent more than a few nights on the floor of his room, that velvety baritone talking to him until they both fall asleep), and scouring the woods for clues.

A jay heckles a squirrel, which surrenders it’s pinecone and scrambles along the rocks. He’s wishing he could be so nimble when it climbs up and then...disappears. Following it, he discovers what he dismissed as endless rock is an optical illusion; the rocks above and behind align with the ones in front and below to make it seem as if it’s a flat face. But when he climbs over the bottom rock, he finds a narrow slot canyon. One big enough for a human.

Fifteen minutes of granite scratching his back later, he’s at the other side of the rocks. Smoke curls up his nose, and he trails the scent to a cabin which, according to Duck, is on a strange pocket of private property, just up a frontage road. Stranger still is the sign out front.

I.C All

Tarot, Palm Reading, and Other Psychic Services.

He knocks as wind chimes sing lazily around him.

“Come in!”

The first room is divided by a curtain, the half he’s in a rather eclectic waiting room. The dining room and kitchen are probably on the other side of the pink and yellow cloth.

Waiting for him in the next room is a man with a distinctly beatnik air about him, from his red glasses down to his brightly colored shawl and shoulder length hair. Laid out before him is a tarot deck, crystal ball, and several black candles. But that’s not what concerns Joseph.

“Before I sit down, can you ask your friend hiding in the bureau to come out?”

“Fuck” the beaura hisses, “uh, I mean, uh, there ain’t, uh, fuck-”

“It’s alright dearest, I suspect we may all benefit from this.” He gestures for Joseph to sit, “Apologies, but my hope was you were either a client I could turn away or one in search of a brief reading that I could perform before returning to more...pleasurable activities.” He grins as none other than Duck Newton steps from the creaky wooden bureau, looking like he’s been wrestling a very amorous tiger.

“Afternoon, Joe.” Duck sits on the nearby couch, “didn’t take you for the fortune tellin’ type.”

“I’m more interested in whether Mr…”

“Cold, but my friends call me Indrid.”

“Whether Indrid has noticed anyone coming and going on his property without permission?”

“I can’t say that I have, though it’s hard to do so; the walkway is guarded by Beacon, our dog, and everything but the walk up to the cabin is fenced off or, well, a massive wall of rock.”

“...Come with me.”

Soon, Duck is studying the slot canyon while Indrid worries his lower lip.

“I had no idea this was here.”

“No one did. It ain’t on any of the maps, and I never heard of anyone findin it on accident.” Duck pulls back, popping his hat on as he turns to Joseph, “this got somethin to do with Barclay?”

“I think whoever shot at us used this to get away. For all we know, the person who killed Mr. Douglas did the same.”

“To think, I encouraged Barclay to come here even more often once he told me his predicament; I thought no one could approach us without me seeing them coming. No, no this will not do at all” he shakes his head, “he needs to go see her.”

“You know he won’t, sugar.”

“He must. It’s the safest place for him. And the last anyone will look.”

Joseph looks between them, but before he can ask Indrid simply says, “You should ask Barclay about the Greenbank House. That story isn’t ours to tell.”

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

“Home sweet home.” Barclay grumbles as he and Joseph step out of the car and into the shadow of a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood in Lakeshore. It took all of his friends telling him he should go--and Joseph assuring him it’s location meant it wouldn’t look like he was trying to run away from the scene of the murder--for the cook to agree to a stay at his family home.

“What are you afraid of?” Joseph keeps his tone gentle as they climb the front steps. His friend had simply said he had unhappy memories of the house and would rather live in a mausoleum then stay there.

“It’s more dread. You’ll see when we get inside.” He knocks on the front door. It’s opened by the least congruous face imaginable; a man with greying hair and a groundskeepers clothes. When he sees Barclay, a smile bursts across his face.

“Barclay! How are you kiddo?”

“I’m...I’m okay. It’s good to see you Thacker.” He offers a genuine smile as he opens his arms and gathers the older man into a hug. When they separate, Joseph offers his hand and introduces himself. Having an extra guest delights Thacker, and he ushers them in with a promise that he’ll have rooms ready to go in a jiff.

“How’s Maddie doin’?”

“She’s good, and she’ll still slug your arm for that nickname.”

“Good old Maddie.” Thackers cheer falters, “do you wanna go see your ma? If I didn’t know you were comin, gonna guess she didn’t neither.”

“Yeah. Yeah I should go see her. Joseph, you don’t, uh, you don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s only polite to meet my hostess.”

Barclay leads him up a flight of stairs, then down a hallway where dust substitutes for walllpaper. Waiting for them in a red and orange toned bedroom is a woman with greying, black hair and a face not unlike Barclay’s.

“Dear heart” she rises from her armchair, drawing her son to her, “you came back.”

“Just to visit, Ma. Uh, this, this is Joseph. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too.”

She studies him with a critical eye; Joseph thought Hayes had a judgemental gaze, but she could beat him any day.

“Hmm. The more the merrier, as she always said. How long will you stay?”

“A few weeks.”

She nods, regards the photo of another woman above the mantelpiece as if seeking council, “You’re not here for pleasure.”

“No.” Barclay rubs his arm, “I...I got into some trouble. Andrew Douglas was shot the night I broke things off with him. The cops are leaving me alone for now but someone else wants me dead.”

The woman’s face suggests she both recognizes and despises that name, “We will keep you safe.”

With that, she sits once more and picks up her book. Barclay hesitates, then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling Joseph from the room.

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

“How long ago did your mother die?” Joseph kicks his legs up onto the ottoman. Barclay alluded to her passing previously, but never gave details.

“When I was eighteen. Car accident. She went off the Kepler bridge. They, uh, they never found her, and just found part of the wreck.”

He intends to leave it there; they’re on the back porch overlooking the garden (“Thackers pride and joy”), early summer dusk on their skin and their arms occasionally brushing from the edges of their chairs. No need to kill the mood further. He just wanted some kind of context for the house and the widow within it.

“Ma never recovered. She loved mom so much that losing her was like losing a lung; she can get through her days, even enjoy them, but it will always be hard. She tried to keep mom around however she could; the whole goddamn house is the same as it was the day she died, even my room. She wanted me to stay too, but Mama offered me the job and I just...I couldn’t live in a haunted house anymore.”

Joseph tips his hand to the right, extending his fingers into the space between them. Barclay takes it and holds tight.

“I’m so sorry, Barclay. You had every right to leave, to make your own life.”

“I know.” He runs his thumb across Joseph’s knuckles, “okay, pretty boy, my turn for a tough question; why’d you really leave the police force.”

It’s not that tough a question, not when he knows the man he’s confiding in won’t go running to Hayes, “I joined the force because I wanted to solve mysteries and help people. But it turned out there was a lot less seeking justice and a lot more chasing off drunks who just needed a place to sleep off benches and harassing certain neighborhoods. Then I worked out that the chief was taking bribes from all kinds of places and was naive enough to think someone might listen to me and help me when I told them. Instead they threw me off the force. In hindsight, it could have been worse; they could have killed me and covered it up.”

“Jesus.” Barclay polishes off his drink, contemplates the ice, “glad they didn’t. Both because, y’know, world is better with you alive, but, uh, also because if they had we’d never have met.”

Joseph meets his eyes, smiling in a way that makes the other man blush, “that would’ve been a damn shame.”

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

This is turning into one of the stranger cases he’s worked, in good ways and bad. The good is that his work days, when he’s not on the phone or digging through his notes, are spent with Barclay. His friend insists on cooking, has even brought him lunch at his desk, and usually the two of them have dinner with Thacker in the garden. They read or play chess in the study, take walks through the labyrinthine grounds, and even swim in the open air pool. Barclay in his swim trunks is a fine sight indeed. Joseph wonders if he ever brought boyfriends here, ever kissed them in the blue water or let them have their way with him in some hidden patch of lawn.

But it’s not all roses and revelry. The more he roots around in Andrew Douglas’s past, and in Barclay’s, the more questions he has. Why did Andrew come and go? What happened to large portions of Raquel and Sylvia (Barclay’s parents) fortune? And who wants to kill someone with no criminal record, no known enemies, and no heirs? If it’s the same person who murdered Andrew, killing Barclay would remove their fall-guy, so that makes no sense as a move.

His best lead comes when he learns Barclay’s family and Andrew Douglas lived in San Francisco at the same time. A friend in the city agrees to do some sniffing around there for any information that might point towards their killer. Two days later, he calls back and says he’s sending Joseph a “fucking brick” of evidence in the mail.

It’s been several days and he’s still waiting. He dozed off in his room after dinner, intending to cat nap, but it seems he’s overshot; it’s after ten. At least the mail must have come by now.

“Barclay? Did anything come--you have five goddamn seconds to explain yourself.”

His friend stammers from his seat on the bed, surrounded by papers, photo’s, newsprint, and a manila envelope with Joseph’s name on it.

“I, uh, I, it isn’t-”

“This is all evidence collected for the purpose of protecting you, so if you have something you’re afraid of me finding you’d better start talking now.” He snaps, looming over the other man from the edge of the bed.

Wordlessly, Barclay hands him a piece of newspaper. It details a kidnapping, one that ends--happily--with the victim being returned to their family. Four names are mentioned, but none of the perpetrators are the man in front of him.

“I was sixteen. A stupid kid. I had this perfect life and I got a little stir crazy, a little bored, and fell in with some other rich kids who felt the same. It started out harmless. Then James, the guy in charge, decided we should dream bigger. I was so, so fucking in love with him, I didn’t try to stop him. Not right away, anyway. I...I was their look-out for that kidnapping. But I couldn’t let them keep it up.”

“You struck a deal.”

Barclay nods, “Best part is, I managed to do it without either of my parents getting wise. We moved here soon after. I thought I could put it behind me.”

Joseph takes a closer look at the paper. The byline for the article is one A. Douglas.

“He blackmailed you.”

“Not at first. He, he” Barclay takes a shaky breath, “he went to mom first. Asked her how much she’d pay to keep my name out of the papers. James had told him about me and he was going to spread the story. That’s why she was on that fucking bridge in the middle of a fucking storm; she was meeting him.”

“Oh, Barclay.” Evidence crumples under his knees as he sits to comfort his friend.

“Then he came to me; now not only was I paying to keep the story quiet, I was paying to keep him from telling Ma why Mom died.”

“She died because of a blackmailer, wet cement, and a weak guard rail. Not because of you.”

Barclay looks at him, eyes coffee cups of sorrow, and simply shakes his head. Then he crumples forward and Joseph catches him, holds him tight while he finishes his story through his tears.

He paid off Andrew for three years. Ned Chicane, owner of the Kepler Museum of Curiosities, helped him with the family accounts so Raquel wouldn’t notice anything suspicious. Whenever Andrew came around, he demanded Barclay act as his “boyfriend” for the duration of the visit.

“Everyone must think I have terrible taste in men.”

Once they establish that, as far as Barclay is aware, only Ned knows about the blackmail, Joseph cups his face and says, as firmly as gentleness allows, “From now on, I need you to be truthful with me. You said you didn’t want me putting the pieces together because you were ashamed, but all I want is to help you. I can’t do that if there are big things you’re hiding from me. Understand?”

Barclay nods, and apologizes the entire time they’re gathering the strewn pieces back into the envelope.

“Barclay?” Joseph cuts him off and eases him down until he’s on his back, “I forgive you. Now please go to sleep before you pass out from stress.”

The cook smiles at him, eyes already fluttering closed, “You’re the boss, Joseph.”

He ignores all the urges that kickstarts in him and leaves his friend to sleep in peace.

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

“Y’know, kind of wish we’d known each other back then.” Barclay looks up from where he’s helping Joseph sort the new evidence on the floor, “when I was in San Francisco, I mean.”

“It would have taken more than just a change of scene for me; my family does alright, but I’d have been way outside your circles.”

“So? Maybe then I coulda had a boyfriend who was ‘disreputable’ for bullshit reasons instead of real ones.”

“I’ve never once been disreputable.” He looks up from the photos in his hand, “and is that your way of telling me something, big guy.”

“Yes. I, uh, you can tell me to knock it off, but I, uh, I think you’re swell. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way but you said I should be…” he trails off as Joseph leans into his space,”honest.”

He kisses him once, so brief it barely counts but the larger man whimpers and tries to grab him before he pulls away.

“If we’re going to do this, I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me to hit the brakes if you need to; it won’t change my dedication to the case.”

“I promise.” There’s no dishonesty in his face, just boundless hope and affection.

“In that case, big guy” he lunges forward, pinning him to the rug, “you’re all mine.”

An unexpectedly high whine leaves his lover.

“You like when I’m rough?”

“Uh, uh huh, so much, people always want me to be and I don’t want to, wanna be, wanna beAHHHhhnnn” he arches his back as Joseph bites the patch of skin just below his beard.

“You’re so gentle, big guy, I thought you’d go straight to making love but” another bite, another gasp, “I think I’d better fuck you instead.”

“Please.” Barclays hands glide up to cup Joseph’s face and guide him down into another kiss.

Joseph rolls his hips forward and his sleeves up as speaks, “Now that you mention it, I can see how things would’ve gone if we met earlier. I was an obedient son but not beyond sneaking someone into my room when my parents were away” he undoes Barclay’s shirt, keeps grinding against him and licking his lips as he feels him getting hard, “or maybe we met down here, and you’d sneak me into the backyard.”

“Fuck, yes.” Barclays chest heaves as Joseph cards his fingers up through the dark hair to tease his nipples, “god, if how I, fuck, feel now is a clue, I’d have been so fucking mad for you.” He makes a charming groan as Joseph tongues his nippls and then nibbles his way up to his ear.

“It’s funny” Joseph kisses his cheek, “I knew so many guys like you on the force. Not you now, used to hard work and worry, but you then; spoiled and softer than a boiled egg.” He allows himself a moment of savoring their cocks teasing each other through their pants before continuing, “always wanted to discipline them, because it was clear no one ever did.”

“Please show me how.”

“Why?” He grins down at him, toying with his left nipple until it’s bright red.

“Because I wanna be good for you, Joseph. Wanna be every fantasy you ever had.”

“...Lord god almighty how am I supposed to say no to that?” Joseph undoes his suspenders, laughing at Barclay’s triumphant smile, “you’re a dream, big guy.”

He crawls so he’s straddling Barclays face, cock dripping pre-cum onto his lips. Barclays tongue keeps peeking out from between them, but doesn’t go further without permission.

“Since this is disciplinary, you don’t get a say in how it goes. You’ll take my cock as long and as deep as I want it, because I’m superior to you and you’re here to do what I say”

“Fuckyeah” Barclay paws Joseph’s thighs, opens his mouth so he can guide the head in.

“That, ohyes, that being said, if it’s really too much, tap my thigh twice.”

Barclay nods to show he understands, but is already pre-occupied sucking his cock like he’s starving for it.

“A good start, big guy, but if I just wanted my cock wet I’d have gone swimming.” He cups the back of Barclays head in both hands, “I want something to fuck, and your face is it.”

The man beneath him moans, fucks the air uselessly as Joseph pushes further in. He finds the resistance of his throat with a half-inch to go, and decides that’s good enough. He pulls halfway out, pushes back in, repeats the process a few times before finding his rhythm. Weeks of wanting mean it’s hurried and greedy, but the resulting moans suggest Barclay approves.

“You look so good like this, Barclay. God, if you’d been some fresh-faced officer, one look of those doe-eyes is all it, shit, would’ve taken for me to make this the only discipline you ever got. Any time I needed to put you in your place or just, fuck, just needed to let off some steam, I’d do this, get my, my cock in your mouth so often you’d run out of spit and be thankful for my cum in, in it’s place.”

Barclay is groping him again, eyes bright and lips managing some upward curve as his cock forces them apart.

“Then again” he tenderly massages Barclay’s scalp, “there’s no reason I can’t do that in this universe. Oh, ohshit, Barclay-” his words desert him as he cums, the other man swallowing eagerly and sucking him clean before he pulls out.

Joseph glances over his shoulder, “Can I take care of that for you?”

“Fuck, please?”

He rolls off of the cook, stays on his side and slips one arm under his shoulders. Then he sets his palm on the monstrous bulge in Barclay’s jeans and sets to work.

“I, I should unzip-”

“No” he kisses him, “we’re surrounded by evidence that I can’t have you cumming on. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up the mess you make cumming in your pants like a teenager.”

“Promise?” It’s an odd thing to say, but Joseph thinks he understands.

“I promise.” He quickens his pace, Barclay’s grunts growing louder when he does, “I’ll take care of you, big guy. I’ll look after you. You don’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.”

“Joseph.” Is all the reply he gets, Barclay already turning as cum spreads across his fly and clinging to the detective. His breath is hot, stays shaky even as his cock stops pulsing.

“Barclay? Baby, are you alright?”

“So fucking good, babe. I, I uh” he holds him tighter, “this is the first thing to make sense to me in years. Loving you, having you in my life, I get how we fit together so easily. Everything else, the murder, Ma, this person lurking around the last place that feels like home waiting to hurt me or hurt Mama or someone there, all of it, it’s so goddamn tangled I’m worried it’ll never get straight.”

Joseph rests their cheeks together, “We’ll figure it out, big guy. I promise.”

[fanficsandthings]

Through the Years, Ch. 6

A George Weasley Fanfiction

A George Weasley x Slytherin reader story.

Each chapter shares events in one year of George and reader’s life together.

Word Count: 4k

Author’s note: This year is going to be split up into 2 chapters, so ch 7 will be more of 6th year. I’m going on a short break after this chapter tho, so ch 7 will be posted April 23rd

Year 1, Year 2, Year 3, Year 4, Year 5 

Year 6:  Camping

The campsite was overcrowded and loud as you pushed your way past wizards decked out in green and white. Making your way past overly decorated and way-too-obvious tents, you kept your eyes out for a certain red headed family. You hadn’t seen George in nearly two months, and you were ready to tackle him on sight. 

As you neared the end of the campsite, you were starting to think that you might have missed the Weasley’s tent and would have to start your search again. A familiar voice caught your attention, and you turned to see a red headed girl coming out of a tent on the very edge of the campsite. Ginny was saying something over her shoulder as Hermione followed her out of the tent. 

“Ginny, Hermione!” you called, waving your hand in the air to get her attention. Both the girls turned to look in your direction. 

“Hey!” Ginny called back as she caught your eye. 

You rushed up to meet them outside their tent. They were both wearing the green and white colors of Ireland. 

“You two been having an exciting day?” you asked them. 

“Hermione taught dad how to light a fire the muggle way earlier,” Ginny told you. “It would’ve taken him hours to light one otherwise.” 

“Wish I could’ve been here to see that,” you said with a laugh. “At least he’s trying to blend in. Some of the wizards here don’t seem to care at all.” You gestured vaguely to the gaudy tents around you; the tent Ginny and Hermione came out of being the exception. 

“I feel kind of bad for the muggle at the entrance, Mr. Roberts,” Hermione said. “All those memory charms can’t be good for him.” 

You thought about how he had been Obliviated after he had said something vague about the events being held today when you paid for your campsite. “I hope it doesn’t affect his memory permanently.” 

A tall figure came out of a tent behind the girls’ tent. His long red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and you could assume that he was another Weasley. 

“Have you met Bill?” Ginny asked.

“I haven’t,” you said. 

Ginny led you and Hermione over to Bill, who was beginning to clean up the remains of the fire. Ginny called his name, and he turned to face the three of you. 

“This is--” Ginny started. 

“George’s girlfriend,” Bill finished the sentence for her. You looked at him slightly confused as to how he immediately knew who you were. “George has talked about two things in the last few weeks that I’ve been home: Weasley Wizard Wheezes and the Slytherin girl that he finally got to kiss after over 4 years of having a crush.” 

You could feel your face burning red at the thought of George talking about you that much. 

“I’ve seen every one of those muggle pictures of you two at least 5 times,” Bill continued with a laugh. “He loves to show them off.” 

“He almost went through two of my camera’s last year,” you said. “Errol got lost delivering one back to my parents, and George was a few hours away from going out and looking for him himself when he showed back up with a letter from my mom confirming that they got the camera.” 

“Hey that photo of Snape asleep at his desk, drooling on his papers would’ve been worth the search if Errol really was lost,” Ginny said. 

“That picture has a place of honor on the mirror in my dorm room,” you said, turning to Ginny. “It gives me motivation to go to potions every morning. I’ve enchanted it so none of the other girls can take it down.” 

“Please let me see that picture sometime,” Bill said to you. “How did you even get into his office without him waking up?”

“That’s a secret between Fred, George, and I,” you told him. You turned to Hermione and said in a whisper, “I printed another copy to give to Harry as a thanks for letting me borrow his cloak. Don’t let me forget to give it to him.” 

Hermione’s face formed an expression you were very familiar with. “How do you know about--”

“Anyway!” you cut her off, turning back to the rest of the group. “Where are George and Fred? I have some words for them.”  

Bill opened his mouth to speak, but a rustling was heard from the tent that he had come out of. Everyone turned their attention to the entrance of the tent as two heads popped out. 

“Is that who I think it is?” George asked as he stepped out. 

“George!” you yelled, half in excitement, half in faux anger. Jumping at him, you both fell hard onto the ground. Luckily, your landing was softened by George. 

George was trying hard to catch his breath as he looked up at you. “I can’t tell if you’re happy or angry.”

“A bit of both,” you said while standing up. “My hair was green for almost two weeks before I figured out the counterspell.” You thought about reaching out to help him up but decided against it. “I helped you invent that potion, you’re not supposed to use it against me. I was excited that you sent me sweets only to end up with that.”

George struggled to his feet, rubbing his shoulder where he had hit the ground. “You look good in Slytherin green, so we thought we’d add a little more to your everyday flare.” 

You turned to Fred quickly. “It was your idea, wasn’t it?” 

“I may have suggested it, yes,” he said, not bothering to hide his smirk. 

“You’re lucky it did look good,” you grumbled, reaching into your bag. Pulling out a photo, you handed it to Fred. “Proof that you finally got it to work. Only took you two and half years.” 

“Perfection takes time,” Fred said, smiling down at the photo. “We’ve figured out green, pink, red, and blue so far.” 

“We’re working on yellow next,” George said as he moved to look over Fred’s shoulder at the picture of you. Your hair was the same color as the winter scarf hanging on the wall behind you. 

“Can I have that back then?” you asked, reaching your hand out for the picture. 

Fred pulled his hand away quickly. “No, we need it to show clients that it really works.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him before rummaging through your bag. “Test it on yourself next time.” You handed the twins the rest of the sweets they had sent you. Two more of the hair changing sweet and five of one kind that you were too afraid to test out without knowing what it was. “Start with that one there. I’d like to see what it’s for.” 

The twins’ faces lit up as they looked at the bag you had just handed them. George’s quickly changed to anger as he took in what was in the bag.

“You sent her the Ton-Tongue Toffee!” George yelled angrily at his brother “We decided we wouldn’t test that on her!”

“Oh boy,” Ginny whispered beside you. 

“Ton-Tongue Toffee?” you turned to ask her, the twins continuing their bickering in the background. 

“It’s an Engorgement Charm stuffed inside the toffee,” Ginny explained. “They actually just tested it out on Harry’s cousin. Mum was super mad. She confiscated the rest of their stock.” 

“She knows the counter-charm!” Fred yelled over his brother. “She’d be fine!”

“We agreed we wouldn’t test the more dangerous ones on her!” George retorted. 

“You agreed to that,” Fred said, crossing his arms. “I never said I wouldn’t” 

“Hey!” you yelled, catching their attention. “You tested this on a Muggle?” 

“Yeah,” Fred said, a proud smile on his face. “It worked perfectly too. Swelled his tongue up to about 4 feet long.” 

“Dad fixed him though,” George continued. “After a bit of arguing with Harry’s aunt and uncle.”

“They’re sure to think all magic users are the devil now,” Fred said, laughing. 

“From what I’ve heard, they already thought that,” you said. “You probably just made it worse for Harry now.”

Hermione cut in to say, “I tried to explain that to them, but they wouldn’t listen to me.” 

“You guys are idiots,” you said, causing the twins’ faces to fall just a little bit. “I’m glad you’re figuring out your stock though. Tell me more about it so I can give you more criticism.”  You walked towards the boys and took George’s hand. Looking up at the sky, you noticed the sun was starting to set. “I’ll have to get back to my family soon. The match should be starting in about an hour.” You started to walk with the twins a little bit away from their campsite before turning back to Ginny, Hermione, and Bill. “I’m sure I’ll see you again after the match. Nice meeting you, Bill.” You gave a small wave with your free hand as George pulled you towards the edge of the forest nearby. 

Once you were out of earshot, Bill leaned down to Ginny. “I like her. Fred and George have a deep disdain for most Slytherin’s but apparently not her.” 

“They taught her their evil ways before the other Slytherins could teach her theirs,” Ginny said, laughing. “It suits her well, I think.” 

The three of them watched you and twins for a minute. It looked like you were shoving one of the sweets in Fred’s mouth, and all three of them held their breath, hoping it wasn’t the toffee. Fred’s hair very suddenly burst into the Slytherin green color, and you and George both bent over laughing. Fred brought out his wand, presumably for the counter-spell, but George grabbed it from him before he could cast anything. George pulled his green-haired brother into an awkward hug as you pulled the camera out of your bag. The twins both smiled widely as you took a picture of them, Fred only pretending to be annoyed. 

Fred finally snatched his wand back from George as he pulled away from the hug and quickly changed his hair back to his natural bright orange. He reached his hand out towards your camera, and you handed it to him. He pushed George towards you, and you wrapped your arms tightly around him. You kissed George quickly on the cheek as Fred took a picture. When you pulled away from George, he pretended to be annoyed with the kiss as he wiped his hand on his cheek. As you shoved your camera back in your bag, though, George took advantage of your distraction and kissed you back. 

The rest of the boys came out of the tent, Arthur telling them that they should start heading to the stadium. 

“Fred! George!” Charlie called loudly, causing the three of you to stop your conversation about the Canary Creams the twins had started working on this summer. “It’s time to go!” 

“Hello, Charlie!” you yelled towards the group, waving. “I’ll stop by after the match again. I’ll see you guys then!” You said a quick goodbye to Fred and gave George one last chaste kiss before heading back towards your own campsite to find your dad and uncle. 

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

You were woken by a sudden, loud crash outside your tent, causing you to jolt up in bed. At first you assumed the sounds outside were sounds of celebration, caused by the Irish winning the World Cup and celebrating all night long, but the closer you listened, the more you could hear screams and chaos. 

Your father came rushing in from outside. “Get up, we need to go.” 

“What’s going on?” you asked him, rushing to find your boots and pulling them on.

“It’s the Roberts family,” he said, trying to push you out of the tent. “They’re being attacked. Your uncle went to help them. Go find the Weasleys; you’ll be safe with them.” 

Your feet hit the grass outside the tent, and the scent of smoke filled your nostrils. The sky, once alive with green and white, was now grey and filled with the reflecting lights of the fire. Screams could be heard in every direction, while people rushed by in a panic, not knowing what way to go. You could see the Roberts family being suspended in midair a couple hundred yards away. The tents around them were going up in flames as the masked wizards carrying them incited more fear in everyone. 

Your father started to head in the opposite direction that you were about to go, so you turned to him. “Where are you going? If someone is attacking muggles, they might be after you too!” 

“I’m going to help the other Muggleborns and Muggle spouses. I know more about magic than most of them,” he said, stepping towards you again. 

“You have no way to defend yourself against dark magic,” you informed him. 

He grabbed your hand. “I’ll be okay. I promise. Now go, before you can get hurt.” 

He let go of your hand and ran off. You quickly turned around and headed towards the opposite end of the campground where you knew the Weasley’s tents to be. 

The crowd was hard to get through with people pushing you in every direction, and you lost your balance more than once, barely catching yourself each time. If you fell, you were sure to be stepped on by everyone rushing by. 

By the time you got to the opposite end of the campground, your lungs hurt from running, and your hands were covered in dirt from the ground. The group of masked wizards holding the Roberts hostage were slowly making their way over, and you knew you needed to find the Weasleys and escape into the woods to be safe. 

Searching around frantically, your eyes found the Weasley’s tents, and you ran towards them. Not bothering with privacy, you rushed into the larger of the two. 

“Hello?” you called out, looking around the apartment-like interior, but you heard no response and saw no sign of movement. Taking that to mean they had already left, you rushed over to the girls tent to make sure they were out too.

“Ginny? Hermione?” you shouted as you ran. Looking in the tent, it seemed to be empty too. 

With no one in sight, your best option was to head to the woods, and hope they all made it there safe. Your eyes still searched frantically over the moving crowd as you hurried towards the trees. 

“George! Fred!” you called, hoping to see any sign of bright red hair. You could feel your heart beating frantically in your chest. Your lungs felt like they could collapse at any moment. “Anyone!” Your voice was showing the first signs of becoming hoarse as your breath got caught in your throat as you yelled. 

“They headed towards the trees!” a familiar voice called from behind. You whipped your head around so fast you weren’t sure how you didn’t fall over. Standing a few feet away was Bill, wand at the ready, a mixed look of fear and anger on his face. 

“All of them except you?” you asked, rushing towards him. 

“Dad, Percy, and Charlie went to help stop this madness,” Bill informed you. “I heard you calling, so I came back to help. I should go join them now. The twins took the younger ones into the woods to hide. You’ll be safe if you go there too. Keep your wand ready, just in case.” 

You suddenly searched frantically for your wand, feeling stupid for not having it out before now. You found it tucked in a special pocket in your boot. “Thanks for the advice.” 

“A boot pocket?” Bill said, sounding impressed. “I might need to get me one of those.” 

“Comes in handy in situations like this,” you told him. You squeezed the end of your wand in your hand, the memory of the first day you got it suddenly rushing into your mind. It was the day you had met Fred and George. You suddenly looked from Bill to the trees, thinking about the rest of the Weasleys in the woods. “I have to go. Thanks for helping.” 

You hurried off without waiting for him to say anything, too focused now on finding other people you knew. People that you needed to make sure were safe more than you needed yourself to be safe. Hopefully Fred and George were looking after the others, but four bodies is a lot to keep track of. With you there, the three of you could do a better job at it. 

Reaching the treeline, you stopped for just a moment to look back at the chaos in the campsite. The group of masked wizards seemed to have come to a halt from being surrounded by Ministry workers. The shouts of all the people running around you, also looking for loved ones, were too loud to make out any conversation from the large group. 

“Ron? Ginny?,” you shouted into the woods, looking for a clear path to run down. You quickly decided that a path would be impossible to find in this situation, and started stepping over bushes and sticks before breaking out into a jog.

Your eyes scanned the trees around you, hoping to find a familiar face or six. The more you searched to no avail, the more it hurt to breath again. Your breath felt ragged in your throat, whether from the running or the yelling of names, you weren’t sure.

You weren’t paying too much attention to where you were going, besides making sure you didn’t trip over anything. Turning around a rather large tree, you jumped over the roots, but your body came to a very sudden halt when you hit something full force. You fell to the ground, all the breath in your body leaving you. 

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed out as you lay on the ground. 

“Are you alright!?” a familiar voice asked as they reached down to help you up. 

“George!” you shouted, pulling him down to you instead, hugging him. “Did I just run into you?”

“You did,” he told you, pulling back to look you in the eye, “but that doesn’t matter. I know you’re safe now.”

You looked behind him to see Fred and Ginny “Where are Harry, Ron, and Hermione?”

“We don’t know,” Fred said. “They got separated in the rush.”

“But Hermione knows enough to be able to protect all of them,” George added quickly when he saw the panic on your face. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t worry about me, worry abo--” you started, but were cut off by a sudden flash of green appearing in the sky. 

The light lit up the entire woods, and through the trees you could make out the shape of a giant skull. People all around you began to scream again, scattering to run as far away from the light as possible. It was then that you saw the snake coming out of the skull’s mouth. 

“A Dark Mark,” you whispered, clinging onto George’s shirt even tighter. Your body seemed to tense up at the words you spoke, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from the skull. 

“Hey, look at me,” George said, but your eyes remained on the sky. He placed his hand on your cheek and softly turned your face to look at him. “Don’t look at that. Just look at me, and everything will be alright. 

George’s brown eyes scanned your face quickly. You knew he was waiting for you to give any more indication about what you were feeling. The tears behind your eyes suddenly ran down your face. You quickly pulled yourself into George, hiding your face in his shoulder. 

You felt a hand gently pat your shoulder, and you looked up to see Ginny looking down at you. 

“It’ll be alright,” she said softly. You knew she didn’t know too much about your situation, or even exactly what the Mark meant, but you greatly appreciated her trying to comfort you. 

“You and your dad are welcome to stay in our tent for the rest of the night,” Fred offered. “I’m sure dad won’t mind.” 

Finally backing away from George just a little, you looked at his face again. You could tell that he was trying not to cry himself, his feelings for you overtaking him right now. You leaned in and softly kissed both of his cheeks.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him. You turned to the other two. “Thank you so much.” 

“Let’s go see if the campsite is safe now,” George said, standing up. He held out a hand to help you up. You gladly accepted it. 

The walk back was stressful; you were worried that you might run into one of those masked wizards. When you reached the treeline and stepped out into the campground, you could tell that that group was gone, but another group of frightened-looking witches and wizards was beginning to form. They were looking for answers about what had just happened, but having no answers for them, you squeezed through them and made your way back to the Weasley’s tents. 

Your father had shown up looking for you just a few minutes after you had arrived. He was fine, just a little shaken from seeing the Dark Mark again after so many years. He chose to stay with your uncle in their tent, and you promised you’d meet up with them again first thing in the morning. 

The rest of the night was restless, and the hour or so of sleep you ended up getting did little help to make you feel better. The next two weeks before the start of the school year would be hard to get through, knowing that You-Know-Who supporters were becoming active again. 

You said your goodbyes to the Weasleys in the dim light of the morning, telling Fred and George that you would be waiting for them on Platform 9 ¾ in two weeks. 

“You better have those Canary Creams ready for testing by then,” you said, trying to lighten the mood of the day. 

“You offering to be the guinea pig?” Fred asked with a smile. 

“No,” you said, “but I have a few people in mind. We need some form of entertainment on the train.” 

The conversation lulled for a second, and George took the opportunity to grab your hand. 

“Be safe, okay?” he said. 

“You know I never am,” you said, trying to continue to joke. George looked at you with his eyebrows slightly raised, and his eyes pleading with you. “Okay, okay. I promise I’ll be safe. It’s only two weeks.” 

“I’ll see you then,” he said, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly so only you could hear, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you whispered back, squeezing him tightly. 

You walked back to your tent slowly, taking in the destruction of the campground and watching the other families pack up. You didn’t know why, but you had a strange feeling in your stomach the whole walk; a feeling that usually only happened when you were absolutely furiously angry at something. You thought you were more afraid from last night than angry, but you couldn’t get the whirl in your stomach to go away. 

The sun was fully peaking over the horizon by the time you made it to your campsite, your uncle having just finished packing everything up. A day that was supposed to be a joyous occasion had turned into the most disastrous event you had ever witnessed. You hoped that the coming school year would bring more joy than anything else.

[perfectlymarilynmonroe]

Hey babe, I had a q about your last photo caption. The bit about Marilyn refusing to be a kept woman is somewhat misleading to me- didn't she live with Johnny Hyde for a time, and didn't his influence grant her favorable notice during casting for films like The Asphalt Jungle? Maybe I'm not remembering correctly, but I don't think their relationship was precisely sexual even if he clearly doted on her for a time. Obvi she got further on her own merit, but I do think that's an oft unexplored moment in her life that was definitely instrumental because of her choice to link up with him. Just wondering about your thoughts on this! Love the blog <3

Hi! Thank you for your sweet comments about my blog :) Sorry for the delay in response, but I wanted to give a thorough response to this. I’ve actually received a couple of comments on Instagram lately regarding this, and I don’t mind addressing this confusion.

*Disclaimer to everyone reading: This is based on the research I have done and is to address a number of issues. This isn’t to glorify Marilyn or deny any flaws or imperfections, but to state the facts. I’m publicly sharing this so I can later refer back to it. It’s a longer response to answer any follow-up questions I may get but, of course, you can still ask any you may have. ♡♡

--

It can be deceiving, but I think the bigger concern is what she took for what she got, rather than vise versa. If she was looking to be a gold-digging, role-stealing actress, she would have married Hyde the minute he asked her to. She would have inherited his millions and could have bought her way through Hollywood. For a young woman with hardly anything, she chose herself and said no. 

Just before she met him, she was getting help from John Carroll and Lucille Ryman, so when she said, Johnny was the first to believe in her, that isn’t entirely true. Due to her lack of a father-figure as a child I think that when she saw the belief in her from a man like Johnny, at a reputable agency, who was willing to do anything for her, she latched on to it.

Hyde’s co-workers at William Morris later reported being furious with him because he slowly began to abandon his other clients and focused only on helping her. In the case of The Asphalt Jungle, since you asked, it was actually the help of both Hyde and Lucille Ryman that she was given an audition. However, director John Huston later said she didn’t get the “role because of Hyde...she got it because she was damn good.”

In my personal opinion, based on the facts, whether did not sleep with Johnny - some historians even refuse to believe they were ever sexually involved - it was never for roles, auditions, etc. As I mentioned, if it were, she would have married him, taken his money, and used that to her advantage. She actually stopped seeing him - both  personally and professionally - by Fall 1949 because she was so sick and tired of being called, “Mrs. Johnny Hyde” by him and hearing from colleges that he was calling her his wife. 

When it came to being a “kept” woman, she was referring to the large number of “casting directors” or studio execs, etc, who faked an upcoming film to lure her into their office and attempt to seduce her, or held their hand on her thigh while she auditioned, almost forced her, etc... and each time she managed to walk out. 

She wrote an article entitled, “The Wolves I’ve Know” that was published in a number of places like Motion Picture in 1953, The New York Daily News, and more. When she met with Ben Hecht for her autobiography interviews, she also spoke of them and it was published in a London newspaper in August 1954, and in Australian magazines in 1955.

He did leave his family and move into a bigger place and invited her to live there, but she never officially moved in. She did spend quite a bit of her time there, but by early Spring she was living on her own and was very low on rent. This is why she posed nude on red velvet in May 1949. She admitted to thinking of asking men she knew for money to help her, but felt she wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself, and it made her sick to even think of it.

For everyone reading this, remember, she was twenty-three. She was still a very young girl and had grown up with little guidance in her life. She was abused, and was in and out of so many school and homes, she was never taught how to do things. She figured it out on her own, and of course, like anyone in that situation, maybe didn’t always make the best decisions or have the best thoughts.

--

I know this answer was very long, but I felt I needed to address a number of points because things are rarely black and white - especially for Marilyn Monroe, who is the subject of much scrutiny, then and now - and there are many things to consider in regards to a sensitive subject like this! 

I hope I’m not missing anything, but I hope it answers your question! xo

--

Below is a list of various quotes said by Marilyn that I hope everyone will find helpful :)

From “The Wolves I’ve Known” published in The New York Times:

The first real wolf I encountered should have been ashamed of himself because he was trying to take advantage of a mere kid. That’s all I was and I wasn’t suspicious of him at all when he stopped his car at a corner and started to talk to me.

He looked at me all over and then came up with that famous line: “You ought to be in pictures.” That was the first time I’d ever heard it, so it didn’t sound corny to me.

He told me he had an office at the Goldwyn studio and said why didn’t I come and see him and he would get me a screen test. It sounded pretty good to me because I was crazy to get into the movies.

I was modeling at that time and I asked the people who ran the agency where I got my jobs what they thought of his offer. The manager called the studio but never was able to get in touch with my would-be benefactor. However, the wolf called the agency and I made an appointment to go to his office on Saturday afternoon.

I didn’t know then that the producers and other movie officials don’t make Saturday afternoon appointments. I found that out later. I also found out that he didn’t really have any connection with the Goldwyn studio but had borrowed a friend’s office.

He was fat and jovial and, of course, drove a Cadillac. He gave me a script to read and told me how to pose while reading it. All the poses had to be reclining, although the words I was reading didn’t seem to call for that position.

--

Of course, there are other ways a girl could survive until another studio came along. A starlet could take on a lover, usually a well-heeled married man who could pay her bills, or she could become the mistress to an old man and through his connections help advance her career. Believe me, there were and still are many starstruck girls that do get by that way. But for myself, respect is one of life’s greatest treasures. I mean, what does it all add up to if you don’t have that? If there [is] only one thing in my life I [am] proud of, it’s that I’ve never been a kept woman.  

And believe me, it wasn’t because there weren’t opportunities to become one. I think I had as many problems as the next starlet keeping the Hollywood wolves from my door. These wolves just could not understand me. They would tell me, “But Marilyn, you’re not playing the game the way you should. Be smart. You’ll never get anywhere in this business acting the way you do.” My answer to them would be, “The only acting I’ll do is for the motion picture camera.” I was determined, no one was going to use me or my body—even if he could help my career. I’ve never gone out with a man I didn’t want to. No one, not even the studio, could force me to date someone.

You can’t sleep your way into being a star. It takes much, much more. But it helps. A lot of actresses got their first chance that way. Most of the men are such horrors, they deserve all they can get out of them!

The one thing I hate more than anything else is being used. I’ve always worked hard for the sake of someday becoming a talented actress. I knew I would make it someday if I only kept at it and worked hard without lowering my principles and pride in myself.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Time Will Tell: Part Three

note: this is for @peppermintschnappss , who requested a part three (read part ONE and TWO here) so here we go, enjoy :)

words: 3k

warnings: swearing, smut

“The jury finds the defendant not guilty of the accused charges.“

Hearing the verdict felt like the biggest weight had just dropped off your shoulders, you were so relieved that you could barely make out the judge dismissing the court over the sound of your pulse hammering in your ears.

You had just won your first case for your new employer, it had been the first client you had dealt with all on your own, a case of alleged tax fraud, and you had nailed it.

With a big smile on your face, you quickly congratulated your client and, after a short talk with the prosecutor, made your way out of the courtroom, a spring in your step.

Just before you reached the door, the sound of a familiar voice behind you made you stop in your tracks.

“You did it, champ.”

Turning around, you came face to face with your colleague, but more importantly, boyfriend, Chris.

You were surprised to see him, and immediately threw your hands around his neck to kiss him, not caring about the fact that you were technically still in the court room.

“Chris, what are you doing here? Did you watch the trial?” You asked after breaking the kiss.

“Of course I did. It was your first one for the firm, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Actually, I’m here to pick you up. We’re celebrating.”

+++

“You did this all by yourself?”

You took in the living room of Chris apartment with wide eyes. He had put up a beautiful dinner table, and there was a delicious smell coming from the kitchen.

“You’re such a sap.” You said, a bit choked up. „Thank you so much, baby. “

“Only for you, superstar.” Chris replied, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body to his. He was warm and solid, and when his hands wandered down to squeeze your ass, dinner wasn’t your top priority anymore.

"Do you think we can maybe re-heat the food later?” You gasped against Chris lips, pulling his shirt out of his trousers to run your hands over his abs.

“Fuck, yes.” he murmured, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the bedroom.

+++

“Oooh here she comes, trying for the outside jump.” Chris exclaimed, before bursting out laughing as you totally missed the hoop.

“Sweetheart, I‘m so sorry, but that was pathetic.”

You flipped him the bird, running to collect the ball and throwing it at Chris with all the force you could manage. He effortlessly caught it and shot it through the hoop like it was nothing.

“Show-off.” you murmured, sitting down on the bench on the side of the basketball court. You were done, Chris had tried to teach you his favorite game for hours now, but you didn’t manage to make any progress. You just weren’t cut out for ball sports.

“Don’t beat yourself up, baby. It took me forever when I first started playing.” Chris said, slumping down next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull your close.

“Stop it, im gross and sweaty.” You giggled, trying to push him away, but he just laughed and pressed a kiss to your head. His laugh was your favorite sound in the world, so you stopped wriggling and leaned against his shoulder.

“Who taught you to play like that anyway?” you asked, looking up and noticing a far away look on Chris‘ face.

“My dad did.” He said, his voice oddly quiet now. “It was our favorite activity when I was a teenager.” He paused for a moment, and you decided to wait and let him speak. “For a long time, it basically was our only one. You know, with him being governor and everything, he wasn’t around a lot, or had any free time.”

“I’m sorry, Chris.” you whispered.

“It’s alright.” He dismissed you, still sounding a bit strained. “My big brother stepped up for a lot of stuff, you know. Homework, making sure I didn’t get in trouble, he even helped me with my college applications and everything. He’s an ass most off the time, but I still love him, and I’m grateful for everything he has done for me.” He chuckled. “But he can’t play basketball for shit.”

“Sounds like he and I have something in common then.” You noted, trying not to sound awkward. The topic of Chris’ family was still foreign terrain, you hadn’t met them yet, and had decided to give Chris space and wait for him to bring it up himself. You were also slightly nervous, because there was no way Chris hadn’t told them about you, his college nemesis.

Deciding to change the topic and cheer your boyfriend up, you picked up the ball again.

“Do you still have enough energy for another round, Cuomo?” You asked smugly. “If you’d rather go home and take a nap, just say so, would be totally fine.”

Chris laughed, and snatched the ball right out of your hands with ease. You were happy to see him lighten up.

“Please, as if playing against you would require any energy.”

+++

The topic of Chris childhood didn’t come up for another few weeks, you had noticed that he avoided talking about it and were wise enough not to pressure him.

Everything was going fine until Chris lost a big case for a very high-end client. The man had clearly been guilty, and not even your boyfriend had been able to get him out, despite his talent as an attorney.

It was the talk off the whole firm the next day, Chris hadn’t lost a case in ages, and never such an important one. He had been on edge ever since the trial, but it was what happened in the morning meeting that made him snap.

The reason was Smith, another associate and Chris’ number one opponent for the spot of the next junior partner of the firm. You hated the guy, he was vile and clearly only in it for the money. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and started to attack Chris during the morning meeting.

“Great job you did yesterday, Cuomo.” he snarled, his voice sounding through the whole conference room. “I wonder how many clients your incompetence will cost us. People are already talking.”

You could feel Chris going rigid beside you and carefully put your hand on his back in an attempt to calm him.

“Don’t let him get to you.” You whispered “He wants to rile you up.”

When the man continued to speak, you could see Chris’ jaw going tense, which was never a good sign.

“Seriously, boss, Cuomo is a basket case, how is he still working for us after that fuck-up? Oh, wait, I know it, I’m sure daddy pulled some strings for his little boy.”

You couldn’t prevent what was happening next. Chris surged forward with a angry growl, already taking a swing at the guy.

“Shut your fucking mouth!” he hissed, backing Smith up against a wall. He was considerably larger, and the fearful expression on the guys face paired with Chris raised fist made chaos break loose as multiple people were trying to get him away from the smaller man.

“Gentlemen, stop this!” your boss thundered over the agitated voices of your fellow coworkers “Smith, see me right away. I won’t tolerate this kind of behavior. Cuomo, take a walk and then get to work. Come to my office after you’re done tonight.”

Chris gave Smith another deadly stare before storming out of the room. You shot your boss an anxious glance, but he just nodded, signalling you to go after Chris.

You hastily followed your boyfriend, only to see him disappear into his office at the end of the hallway. Carefully, you approached the closed door and entered without knocking.

Chris was slumped in his chair, face buried in his hands. Seeing him like this made you want to go back and punch Smith in his stupid face.

“Hey.” you whispered, gently reaching out to put your hand on Chris shoulder.

He raised his head, and the look of fury and sadness in his eyes almost broke your heart.

"Fuck, I should not have lost control like this back in there.” he said “But this guy has been testing me for so long now, always with the same bullshit.”

He got up from his chair and started pacing around the small room.

“You know how often I’ve heard this crap before, Y/N? That I’m just where I am because of my family name? That my father paved the way for everything I’ve ever succeeded in?”

You swallowed, a churning feeling in your stomach. You knew exactly what he was talking about, because for years you’ve been one of the main people saying just that. You wanted to speak, but Chris interrupted you.

“Those people out there, they know nothing about me. They don’t know how it was to have a father who was absent all the time, to be constantly teased in school. To be ripped out of the life you knew to move to fucking Albany, this stupid one horse town where everyone knew your name, and go to this school full of pricks who all made fun of me and bullied me because of my family. I never asked to be in the fucking spotlight.”

By now, Chris was almost screaming, and there was a kind of emotion in his voice you’ve never heard before, he sounded desperate and sad in a way that made tears well up in your eyes.

“Still, I worked my ass off in that stupid school, and I got into Yale. Only for people to say the exact same shit about me again, and this drags through my whole life, Y/N. I can never get rid of this, I avoided politics and tried to do my own thing here, but everything I’ll ever be to people is the son of the fucking governor, who in their eyes, never worked a day in his life.”

You were frozen to your spot, just watching Chris through a veil of tears. Guilt and dread were clawing in your stomach, it had never occurred to you that all the things you said in the past had not only been far from the thruth, but had also hurt Chris so profoundly. He had always seemed so cool and unfazed during your arguments.

“Chris.” You began. “You’re more to me. You’re a brilliant attorney, the boss has talked about how great you are at the job the second I arrived here and hasn’t stopped since. Smith is jealous because he knows he’ll never reach your level, not as a lawyer and much less as a person. You are kind, and the most intelligent and dedicated man I know. You’re everything I always thought you weren‘t, and that I am one of the people who hurt you this way makes me sick. I cant even begin to tell you how sorry I am for being so shallow.”

You were crying now, tears rolling down your face. Chris looked devastated, hurrying to you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago, baby. You’ve been my rock ever since we’ve met again, and that makes up for every silly row we had in college.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, and you sighted, nuzzling your face into his chest, your tears soaking into his dress shirt.

“You probably have to change this.” You whispered, tugging on a wet patch on the fabric.

“I have a spare one in here, don’t worry.” Chris replied, taking your face into his hands to kiss you deeply. “We’re not the people we used to be, Y/N. Don’t beat yourself up, and I’ll try to do the same, promise.”

+++

Soon afterwards, you had to leave to meet up with a client for your current case. You had been running around the whole day without a break, and without hearing anything from Chris.

It was almost eight by now, and you were starting to get worried. Pacing your living room, you were anxiously waiting for Chris to arrive. He had told you to not wait up at the firm but promised to come to your apartment as soon as his talk with the boss was over.

The sign of the bell made you spin around and run to your door, yanking it open. Chris was standing outside your apartment, and the big smile on his face erased your anxiety in a heartbeat.

“You’re looking at a freshly promoted junior partner, sweetheart.” He grinned, and whatever he wanted to say next was interrupted by you throwing yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck with a squeal.

“Oh my god, baby, congratulations.” You exclaimed, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Tell me everything!”

Chris followed you into your flat, discarding his suit jacket and letting himself fall onto your couch.

“I still haven’t fully realized what happened.” He began. “I was sure the boss would kick my ass for the way I behaved this morning, maybe even suspend me for a while. But he just told me off really quickly, and then he started talking about how that case I lost was impossible to win anyway, and how good my work has been for the past years. And then he offered me the junior partner position, just like that. I accepted of course.”

He smiled, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I can’t wait to rub that into Smiths stupid face. One of the paralegals told me he got a big ass whooping by the boss after the meeting this morning.”

"Serves him right, that little asshole.” You replied, before leaning over to kiss Chris again. “I’m so proud of you, you deserve this like no one else. Now that I think about it, how does champagne sound?”

“Wow, so were going to be fancy tonight?” Chris chuckled.

“If you becoming a junior partner doesn’t call for champagne, what does?” you responded, getting up to fetch the drinks from the kitchen.

You handed Chris a glass and clinked your own against his. “To you, Mr. Big Shot lawyer.”

The champagne sent a pleasant, fuzzy feeling through your stomach, and you let your eyes fall on your boyfriend, taking in how good he was looking in the warm light of the room.

“You know, I always had a thing for attorneys.” You murmured, setting down your glass to put your hands on Chris chest.

Chris laughed, and set his glass aside as well, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Is that so, huh? Well today is your lucky day then, I just got promoted and I’m in the mood to celebrate.”

His hot breath sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head, exposing your neck to Chris, who instantly started kissing and sucking the smooth skin. You moaned softly and started to unbutton Chris shirt with shaking fingers.

“Bedroom?” he asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, taking his hand to pull him to the other room. Both of you quickly shed your clothes before you dropped to your knees in front of Chris, closing your lips around his already hard cock.

“Jesus, Y/N.” he murmured, stroking your hair as you fully took him into your mouth. “So perfect, baby.”

You wrapped you hand around the base of his length, stroking him while moving your head up and down. Suddenly, Chris hand grabbed your hair and softly pushed you away.

“If you keep it up like that, this will be over soon, and I’m not done with you, sweetheart. Get on the bed, baby.”

You quickly complied, laying down on the duvet and looking up at Chris expectantly.

He climbed on top of you and started stroking your inner thighs with his fingers, softly nudging your legs apart.

“I bet youre already wet for me, baby.” He murmured, voice smooth and dark as his fingers dipped between your legs. “I knew it.”

“Chris.” You whined at the feeling of his fingers brushing over your clit. “Fuck me, please.”

“Patience, baby.” Chris replied and continued to tease you, softly circling your bud with increasing pressure until you were sobbing, legs shaking as you fell apart under his touch.

While you were still riding out your climax, Chris slid between your legs and pushed into you. You cried out as he started to move, you were still so sensitive that you could feel yourself already approaching the next orgasm.

“Shit, baby, you’re tight, I’m not gonna last.” Chris grunted, his thrusts were already getting more erratic.

“Let go, baby.” You whispered, your voice breaking as you reached your peak again, pulling Chris with you this time.

+++

Afterwards, you laid next to each other, Chris arm loosely slung around you as you played with a lock of his hair. His blue eyes found yours, and you had to smile, your heart fluttering when he smiled back at you.

“It’s funny.” Chris suddenly said, “So many things happened today, but the only thing I care about right now is that you’re here with me.”

He propped himself up on his elbow to properly look at you.

“I would’ve never thought that this” he gestured between the two of you “could happen.”

“Not in a thousand years.” You agreed, laughing softly.

Chris face got serious, and he reached out to softly stroke your cheek.

“If you want, I’d like to introduce you to my family this weekend, Y/N. You know that I’m a private person and talking about emotions isn’t exactly my strong suit. But you make me really happy, and I want everyone to know.”

“I’d love to meet them.” You whispered, and the smile that took over Chris face made you forget your nervousness.

Everything would be fine.