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truglori · 4 years ago

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Sneaky Link 🔗

Synopsis: Black Reader and Eric find each other online!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Black Reader

Warning: Language, Smutt, Raw sex

Flopping on the bed Y/N found herself bored for the fourth Friday night in a row. This was supposed to be the season of hook ups and living her best carefree lifestyle that she had planned out but yet is was the exact opposite. Being on summer break from college Y/N had to come back home with the schools being closed. It was something she dreaded.

Home for her wasn’t the best place to be. Between her judgmental and nagging parents and older brother, Chris, Y/N was ecstatic when she discovered that she would be going to a school that was over three hundred miles away. Being four hours away gave her enough freedom knowing that she didn’t have any one breathing down her neck or snitching to her parents about whatever she did. With it only being her sophomore year Y/N loved the college lifestyle.

Getting up she went to her window to open it and put in her square fan. Her air conditioner that she always kept in her room was now being used by her brother so she had to settle for this. Turning the knob she felt the warm cool breeze coming through and taking up the room. Walking back to her bed she logged into her laptop going onto the web browser. Clicking the history she found the website she was searching for and tapped it.

Quick Link popped up on her screen. It was a site that allowed people to meet and chat with other people. Even though Y/N has been going on it for weeks now back and forth, she never met one person that she has chatted with yet. She was okay with talking to them online and even over the phone but the thought of seeing them in person scared her. With all of the Lifetime movies and ID channel she would watch, doing something as small as meeting up with them could be dangerous.

Y/N scrolled through her recent messages. She had over ninety-nine notifications. She knew that she wasn’t going to reply to them all, only the once she found cute. It was like a broken record being played. They all inbox her with the same messages, hey sexy! Y/N rolled eyes at the un-originality. To her it seem like the guys didn’t even try to put in any effort.

Tapping on the keyboard she began to text back the handful that she found attractive when she got two notifications. Hurrying up her sentence she exited out of the chat and clicking on her new direct messages.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Y/N, what in the hell is yo ass doing on this shit...10:35pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- And I know you still online. I can see the green bubble by ya picture...10:36pm

Y/N squinted at the name. Who the hell was this texting her like they knew her? The question alone made her stomach flutter at the idea of getting caught on a dating site by someone she knew or knew her. Clearly this person recognized her enough to boldly message her. Clicking on their username she went to their page. Her heart stopped and thighs clenched at the same time.

It was Erik fucking Stevens aka her brother’s childhood best friend. Chris and Erik were the same age and only three years older than Y/N. Growing up Y/N stayed crushing on Erik. It was his braids that he rocked back in the day that had her drooling over him but also how nice he was to her. Y/N remembered the time when she was a freshman in high school and Chris and Erik were both Juniors she would always get a ride with them every morning in his 2005 Honda Accord. He would steal glances at her through his rear view mirror that only she would catch but to afraid to ask him about it.

There would be times that she would find underwear from a girl tucked under the backseat. Y/N heard about the rumored that went around the school that Erik was a player. An experienced one at that. He was grown before his time and with the way the lucky girls who had a chance to sleep with him describe it, he gave dick like he was a grown man as well.

Hearing that did nothing but spark the flame that she felt about him. She wanted to experience it herself. But being the quiet and timid person she was then, she never did. It wasn’t until Y/N went to college where she lost her virginity her freshman and started having sex on the regular with her ex who was also her first. From the first few times they did it, she could never cum from penetration. Y/N thought it was normal and that every girl dealt with it until she shared a few stories with her friends and they would tell her about the way their guys would make them squirt.

Squirting was something Y/N always wanted to do but could never achieve with her guy. She loved feeling him inside of her stretching her open but he was a quick pumper. He came too fast for her and couldn’t last long enough to get her to nut. So after every session she would take her bullet and tortured her clit until she felt her cream escaping her hole. Not having sex since the last time she was at school had Y/N body extremely horny and hot and ready like a little ceasars pizza.

Clicking through his pictures had her clenching her thighs. After he graduated high school, the graduation was the last place she seen Erik. She wasn’t even sure if Chris and him were still close friends. But what she could say is that he grew up very nice. He now had dreads that hung over his eyes with a clean shape up to top it off. His teeth pearly and white accompanied by gold canines he was wearing in every other picture and last but not least his body was everything. Standing at 6’3 and looking like a solid 215 from her view Erik was fine as fuck.

Giggling and embarrassed with herself she replied back.

BlackBeauty- Erik omg...this is so embarrassing. How did you find me?...10:40pm

Biting the nail on her thumb she waited for him to answer her. To her surprise he wrote back fairly faster than what she expected.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Noticed yo little ass on the explore page. I know you not on here meeting with these wack ass niggas...10:42pm

She laughed re-reading his message. To her it sound like it was possessive but she didn’t want to over think it.

BlackBeauty- Never!! I am not stupid. I haven’t met one person yet...10:44pm

Hitting the send button she rolled her eyes noticing herself getting desperate from his attention.

HandsomeAssNigga👅-Okay bet! I don’t wanna have to fuck you up youngin 😈...10:47pm

Biting her lip, she stared down the emoji. She wondered what that meant. She wondered in what way did he meant when he said he would fuck her up. At this point Y/N was dripping between her thick thighs.

BlackBeauty- What about you? I know you out here fucking these bitches you meet on here. Don’t lie lol...10:49pm

Y/N didn’t want to seem nosy, she was just trying to make conversation.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Damn you cuss now? And second of all don’t be worried about what I do with my dick. I’m grown and that’s different...10:51pm

Bringing a hand down to her covered pussy Y/N caressed it. The warmth coming through her panties and cotton shorts. She didn’t know what it was but the way he was responding had her feeling a type of way. She wasn’t the shy young girl anymore he used to know and she wanted to make that clear.

BlackBeauty- I’m grown too Erik 💦...10:53pm

Her heart beat sped up when she sent the text not knowing how he was going to respond.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- To who? I know ya young ass ain’t out here fuckin yet. You was too shy for that last time I saw you. Even if you was, I know you ain’t getting know real dick...10:55pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- What’s that emoji supposed to represent? Ya pussy or sum shit? Let me find out Y/N 👿...10:56pm

There goes that little devil that had her questioning herself again.

BlackBeauty- I get dick on the regular. Good dick! And yes Erik that emoji reps my pussy. Same young pussy that’ll be too wet for you to handle! I’ll have you drownin in my shit...10:59pm

Y/N could always talk a good game online. It was where she could be get as nasty as she wanted without actually putting in work. The guys who would hit her up loved her foreplay that she had spit over the internet and she was fortunate enough where they never pressed her to meet in person.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Bring that pussy here and I’ma show you if I’ll drown in it. Stop fucking playing with me Y/N if you not gonna pull up. I don’t do this back and forth teasing shit. You tryna do a Sneaky Link or what?...11:02pm

Checking the hall Y/N seen that the lights were off. Her parents were most likely sleeping and Chris always worked Friday nights. This was the perfect time and opportunity to leave. She would have to sneak the keys from the key holder and use her dad’s car to get to his place. Y/N didn’t do this on the regular but because it was Erik she was curious. She wanted to see for herself if all of the rumors were true. Y/N was going to fuck him tonight.

BlackBeauty- Send me the addy..I’m on my way...11:04pm

________

After showering and preparing for her dick appointment Y/N successfully snuck out of the house. She put his address in her GPS. It was a twenty minute drive to get to his apartment. Putting the car in park and turning it off, Y/N felt the butterflies in her stomach grow while walking into the building. Taking her phone out she went to his message and looking up the apartment number he gave her. Apartment 3B.

Knocking on the door. She held her hands together tightly. She was beyond nervous and rethinking her decision as her heart kept thumping. She couldn’t believe that she was really going to go through this. After so many years of fantasizing about him in her room she was finally going to see the real thing. Y/N only wondered if it was as good as she hoped.

The door swung open showing Erik sipping on a glass of dark liquor. In nothing but a tight wife beater that clung to his chest and his sweats that hung low Y/N could see the print poking through so visibly. It looked like he was free balling it.

“Damn ma. You wasn’t lying about getting grown. You look good as shit.” Erik sipped from his glass. He stepped aside inviting her in.

Y/N smiled softly going inside. She only took a few steps in and stood to the side waiting for him. She heard the door lock behind her as it caused her to gulp hard on her spit.

Erik eyed her with his low eyes. He chuckled seeing that she was clearly nervous.

“So that’s ya thing?” His voice was low and deeper than what she remembered.

“What’s my thing?” Her soft voice speaking up.

“Talking shit online but quiet it person.” He stated putting her on the spot.

Y/N smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She turned facing his livingroom.

“Nah ain’t no whatever. What’s good ma? Where that big girl energy go?” He walked up behind her pressing his body into hers. The hand that wasn’t holding his cup wrapped around her waist gripping the small pudge on her stomach.

Y/N shivered when she felt his dick on her ass. Her assumption was right. He wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his sweats. She could feel the coldness of his chains on her shoulder when he leaned on her due to her only wearing a tank top. She grabbed his hand, not pushing him away but holding on to him.

“I’m here aren’t I?” She gazed at him over her shoulder.

He smirked at her smart remark. “You need anything before we start? A drink, blunt, something to help you calm ya scary ass down.” He teased.

She pushed his hand from around her waist and folded her arms. “I’m not scary Erik. If I was I wouldn’t be here.”

“Then why you barely saying shit?” He licked his lips.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s just been a while since I saw you. You look...different.” Playing with her diamond earning, she occupied her fingers.

“I may look different but I’m still the same Erik that used to jack ya brother up every time he fucked with you when no one was looking. Ain’t shit changed about me ma so you can relax. I’m tryna take care of you tonight.” He spoke stepping closer.

They were now face to face. Y/N’s frame staring up into his 6’3 one. When she would inhale she could smell his expensive cologne mix with the Hennessy he’s been sipping on since she got here.

“Okay.” She answered with a bite of her bottom lip.

Erik groaned at the action. Both of his hands behind his back now, he bent down to her level to meet her halfway. “C’mere.” He demanded a kiss with messy dreads hanging over his eyes.

Meeting him where he was, Y/N listened giving him one. The taste of the dark liquor transferring over to her taste buds from his tongue invading her mouth. The warmth of it made her melt under him and causing her head to lean back. She was already growing weak just from the kiss.

Erik reached behind her slapping her ass and gripping it with his free hand. “Fuck you doing all that for and I ain’t even do shit yet.” He spoke against her lips peaking through his eyelids.

“Hurry up then daddyy.” Y/N whined.

“That’s my name for the night? I like that shit.” He walked them backwards until they reached his room which wasn’t far away from the front.

Placing his glass down on his dresser he lifted her up by her thighs, picking her up. Y/N squealed from the unexpected action. She held onto his neck hoping he wouldn’t drop her. Erik chuckled playing with her ass cheeks before laying her down on the bed gently.

“You sucked dick before...miss grown?” Bringing his hand down, he massaged his print through his sweats.

Leaning up on the palm of her hands, Y/N nodded answering yes. She did it plenty of times with her ex, who she could make cum quickly off of head alone but the way Erik was grabbing his tool made her think differently.

“So what’s up then? Come show me what that mouth do?”

Kicking off her sandals Y/N got off the bed. His eyes stayed glued to her. Getting on her knees in front of him she tugged the sides of the grey sweats and pulled them down to his mid thigh. His dick sprung out almost hitting her in the face had she been centimeters closer.

Long and thick was what it was. A beautiful smooth brown texture covered his heavy package. Y/N felt her mouth watered thinking about how her cream and juices would look being all over it. This man was truly blessed and so far proving the rumors to be true.

Erik twisted his hips side to side wagging it in front of her. He lifted the wife beater up and tucked it under his chin so that he can get a good view.

Grabbing the base of his length Y/N eyed it. She was trying to figure out ways to be able to swallow this monster without choking. Sticking her tongue out she tapped his tip against it. A string from her saliva on her tongue being attached to his head every time they separated. With her prior experience and watching porn she grew to have her own technique.

Y/N allowed the spit to build up in her mouth when she sucked on his tip. No nigga likes dry head and she wasn’t going to start giving it today. She wanted it to be extra sloppy for Erik. Tightening her jaws she went up and down on his dick. Taking only about four inches of him and using her spit to stroke the rest of him. With just the little bit of his length she was able to take she could already feel him reaching her back.

“Fuck that throat feel good. Shitt!” Erik groaned gripping her tight kinky curls and putting them into a ponytail. He tilted his head watching her go stupid on his dick. He sucked in his lower lip when she began to swivel her head around.

Long drips of spit went falling down on her black tank top. Erik’s eyebrows scrunched up the moment he felt her take his balls in her mouth and suck on them lightly while stroking his tip. His stomach started to tighten and his toes dug into his carpet. This girl was trying to take his soul the way she sucking him up.

“Man whatchu doing Y/N?” Erik asked amazed, closing his eyes for a second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had head this good.

“I’m showing you that I’m grown daddy.” She answered coming up.

Now both of her hands were focused on playing with his balls while she sucked his tip and some of the few inches she was able to reach. Her eyes stared into his not stopping at all. She had him right where she wanted him. She could tell from the way his breathing sped up that he was getting weak and ready to bust a nut. Y/N tightened her suction to make it happen when she felt him pull her off by her hair.

Erik took one hand gripping her spit covered chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “Fuck is you doing sucking my dick like that ma? You tryna make me hold you hostage for the whole night?” He asked seriously.

Y/N giggled. “I just wanna make you cum Daddy.” She reached for his tip and gripped it making him jerk forward.

Erik smacked his lips annoyed that she had him feeling like sensitive. “Chill with that. Let me fuck you first before you suck this nut out.”

Helping her up and placing her back on the bed Erik slide off her biker shorts tossing them somewhere. Underneath them she had on some cotton hipster panties with little rainbows spreaded everywhere. Erik laughed when he seen it.

“Why you wearing shit like this ma?” He teased stepping out of his pants and getting on the bed.

“Because it’s cute. Why you worried about what I’m wearing instead of taking them off?” Y/N mocked his question.

Erik smirked bringing his hand up to the piece of cloth and ripping them straight down the middle and threw them on the ground. A gasp left Y/N lips as she was shocked from him doing that. Slapping his forearm, her lips went into a pout becoming upset.

“Erik, I just brought those two weeks ago.” She smacked the hand that was rubbing her thigh.

“You said to take them off. My bad. That’s the way I usually do it.” He lifted her legs by the back of her thighs while he consoled her as a distraction.

Y/N was frustrated at the fact that he ripped her new panties but also that she wasn’t going to have any to wear back home after this link.

“I don’t care how you do it, you shouldn’t have- ohh shiitt!” Her rant was cut off with the sound of moans leaving her mouth.

Holding her legs by the back of her knees Y/N glanced down to see Erik flicking her clit. The tip of his tongue felt wet and firm, in a good way. She really started to feel it when he took one hand and spread her phat pussy lips. Now her clit was out in the open and more accessible. Erik’s eyes met hers through his dreads when his lips wrapped around her bud and began to suck.

“Mm fuck...daddyy!” The sensation had Y/N’s hips thrusting to meet his vacuum like suction. So powerful and wet.

“I want you to cum on this fuckin tongue!” His words were muffled by the lips of her pussy surrounding his but it was enough to reach her ears. Taking a hand he smacked her outer thigh making his demand clear.

Her warm and slick juices ran out of her opening. It was something about the way he commanded her to nut that made her wetter and willing. Y/N liked to be dominated. Lifting up the tank top and pulling it up to her chest she tweaked and flipped her nipples adding to the stimulation. For her the feeling of having her nipples played with while getting her pussy ate made her orgasm a hundred times better.

“Eat this fucking pussy b-babyy-“ She whimpered feeling a tear slide down the corner of her eye.

Even though he noticed it, Erik didn’t stop. The juices that he caught in his mouth made it hard. He loved a good tasting ass pussy. Y/N definitely had one. Moving his assault from her clit he put his tongue in her tight opening. He began to fuck her with it. Erik put his hands under her ass cheeks and got a good cuff before bringing her back and forth on his stiff tongue. With the way her legs were still in the air he could see Y/N toes curl the second he started the action. She began leaking so quickly. Erik chuckled inwardly when he felt her walls squeezing on him.

“Mhm.” He moaned teasing her.

Y/N was cumming from the second time just off of his mouth alone. She reached down to rub her clit while he stuck his tongue deep inside her. She ain’t never got head this good before back at college. Her thighs began to shake as she felt another mini orgasm hit. Her pussy growing sensitive and overstimulated.

Grabbing his dreads she lifted his head up. “Daddy you was eating my pussy so good. Fuckk!” She moaned with a quiver in her voice.

“Now I’m bout to beat this pussy up real good too. Turn around. I want that ass from the back.” Erik barked getting on his knees.

Swiftly taking off her tank top, Y/N turned around like he said and got on all fours. She felt a firm smack to her right ass cheek. Moaning she rocked back and forth and twerked each cheek individually. Y/N looked over her shoulder behind her seeing Erik watching her move it so effortlessly. His hands went up to her waist and pulled her closer to him. Now she could feel her mound rubbing against his bare hard rock hard stick.

“Doing all this ass shaking, you better not try to run from the dick. I don’t want none of that.” He gripped a cheek spreading it watching her pussy lips follow.

“I’m not gon run daddy..I promise.” She reassured him softly.

Erik gripped the base of his length. Smacking it against her her clit he played with it for a while to warm her up. When he heard her moaning and seen her backing up against him he knew she was ready. Erik sent a drip of spit on the tip of his dick and rubbed it over it with a free hand. He teasingly dipped in and out of her tight hole. Y/N pussy was tight as fuck and he knew he had to work his way in. Getting deeper and deeper with each inch her warm wet walls clung on to him.

“Ooh fuck!” Y/N eyes closed not expecting him to feel like this. Erik was stretching her pussy out. Her arms sprawled out in front of her gripping his sheets.

“Tight ass pussy you got. What happened to getting dick on the regular? Hmm?” Holding her down by the small of her back Erik made her arch deeper as he stroked her slick walls.

Y/N’s mouth couldn’t close or make a sound. From the position he had her in she couldn’t move or run if she wanted to. Pinned down and made to take it. Erik was dicking her down. His heavy fat dick busting her pussy open and touching her stomach. Fuck that. He was putting it in her chest. Y/N reached behind her to hold on to his wrist while he pounded her pussy with precision. Her face smashed into the bed. His dick was too good for her.

“Ooh baby... Daddy don’t fuck me like this!” She shouted not knowing what she was saying. Y/N didn’t want him to stop but she couldn’t handle the pressure he was putting on her bladder.

Erik didn’t have just a big dick that could stretch a pussy out. He knew how to fuck with it. When he stroked he didn’t use his whole body he worked his hips and that’s what drove bitches crazy about him. Erik would fuck like he was trying to make a baby.

“I thought you came here to get fucked?” He asked lifting off her. He bended one knee and balanced his weight on his foot pressing it into the bed. His hand wrapped around her throat as he caught a rhythm making her throw it back on him.

The sound of skin clapping filled the room. Y/N’s arch was now the deepest it’s ever been with Erik choking her from behind and making her head tilt up towards the ceiling. Cramping in her stomach let her know that she was about to break. She was finally about to cum from penetration alone. His curved tip would press on a spot she didn’t know she had there causing her legs to convulse. Her whimpers and moans only encouraged him to keep doing what he was doing. Which was tearing her pussy up.

“Shiitt!!” She cursed grabbing onto her titty to have something to hold on.

Erik bit his lip seeing her ass tremble from her orgasm and feeling her squeezing his dick with a vice grip. He slapped her left cheek before pulling out to flip her over on her back. Looking down at his meat it was covered in her creamy juices. His dick jumped at the sight.

“Good ass pussy.” He mumbled in a trance.

Using the weight of his hips he thrusted finding his way back inside of her. The warm wet tunnel closing in on him. Erik lifted up the wife beater that was still on in the mist, and brought it up under his chin tucking it to move it out of his way. His hands found the back of her thighs and pinned them against her chest. He began stroking and getting deeper from the angle.

Being trapped from his hold that he had on her, the only thing Y/N could do was bring her hands to his hips trying to interrupt his movements. Y/N didn’t like this feeling. He was going too deep. Deeper than what she was used to. Shaking her head from side to side she pushed at his hips that only kept going due to her weak and trembling arms not being able to produce enough strength.

“Move ya fuckin hands.” He demanded while keeping his steady stroke. Erik cussed under his breath hearing the smacking sounds coming from her hole that could be mistaken for a pot of mac and cheese being stirred. That’s how good Y/N pussy was.

Her tight walls gripped his dick. Erik looked between their bodies watch the beautiful art being made. Her pussy following him whenever he pulled out to the tip just to be sucked back in. Pussy as good and wet as hers always got him to bust hard. He was close. Leaning down to her neck he kissed and sucked her skin while having her pinned down taking his length. Erik felt her walls slick up and knew she was about to nut again.

“Let that shit go mama.” He whispered in her neck.

Y/N’s nails scratched against his back. Her eyes wailed up with tears feeling the pressure in her stomach building up. She lost count of how many times he had made her cum tonight but she knew she was grateful and only prayed that this wasn’t the last time she got dick this bomb.

“Unhh.” She couldn’t produce any words. Her toes curled as she gazed at the ceiling feeling her body shake.

“There you go.” He pecked her neck.

Erik talked her through her nut while he continued to chase his. It wasn’t long before he felt his dick throb and grow inside of her. Pulling out he climbed on top of her holding his body up with one hand pressed into the bed as he stroked his dick with the other. Y/N opened her mouth and sucked his tip. She could feel his seed spilling on her tongue and traveling down her throat. She wasn’t usually a swallower but the way he had just fucked her he deserved to have his dick milked.

“Ahh shit!” Erik cursed caressing her jaw as he watched her suck him dry. She was cleaning both her juices and his nut off of his dick.

A popping sound escaped her mouth when she released him. Y/N’s body couldn’t move as she laid back staring at him with disbelief. Erik caught her face expression.

“What?” He asked standing on the side of the bed.

“Nothing. It’s just the rumors that I heard about you were all true. You do give some good dick.” Turning to lay on her side Y/N smiled.

Erik laughed. “Yeah well I could say the same about you.”

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Little birdy that goes to your college told me about how good ya pussy was. Had to find out for myself.” He smirked at her.

“Erik what are you talking about?” Y/N sat up.

“I’m talking about your ex that you fuck from time to time is my second cousin. Nigga couldn’t stop running his mouth about you. Small world ain’t it?”

He paused watching the confusion clouding over her face. “Besides why else you think I had hit you up tonight? It damn sure wasn’t to reminisce over the past.”

Taking off the wife beater, Erik leaned down to kiss her lips before walking away.

______________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

Tag-List

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#black panther #erik killmonger #erik smut #erik stevens #erik x plus size reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #truglori #black panther killmonger

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

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7 Secrets Drabbles

The one where Beth finds the diss track

Yes, I know. This has been pending on my m.list for a while now. However, I wanted to wish @dreamcatcherjiah (as well as all my followers) a very merry Christmas and happy holidays! I know some of you really wanted to see/requested what went down with the diss track (a kind of inside joke between Joon and Beth) so here we are. Thank you to everyone who has supported me and given my works a fighting chance lol.

7 Secrets is my baby and I just have such a soft spot for Beth and Joon. 🥺🥺 If you haven’t read it yet...just do it. Read it. It’s a good time, I promise.

Merry Christmas!! Enjoy! ⇊

In my defense, I wasn’t planning on snooping around Joon’s workspace. It just kind of happened.

We were supposed to meet up at the company building to head out to dinner with everyone. Today is a big day: it marks six months since the day we met.

Six months since I first stepped into that little room just a couple of floors above where I now sit. My heart nearly beating out of my chest and Namjoon standing on the other side of the room.

My entire future, right in front of me.

The boys have been busy the past couple of months, I’ve hardly gotten to see any of them due to their new album coming out soon. Promotions are brutal; I’ve begun to see that. Every so often Namjoon will show up at my office completely out of the blue, give me a short greeting, and promptly take a nap on my couch. He says it’s one of the only places he can actually close his eyes without worrying about someone coming to the door and seeing how the album is coming along.

Even though I wish we had more time to just be together, I think those spare minutes with Namjoon snoring up a storm while I work quietly at my desk are my favorite minutes of the week.

Namjoon’s studio is empty when I arrive, oddly enough. I’m sure he’ll be up in a few minutes; chances are he’s in a meeting with the project manager or in somebody else’s studio.

“What do we have here?” I wonder aloud as I plop down on his swivel chair, scooting forward to look at the post-it notes scattered all around his desk. Most of them make little to no sense to me, as they all consist of producer slang and half-formed thoughts.

There’s one though that really catches my attention. “Oooh what song is this?” Scrawled down on a bright yellow sticky note, Namjoon has written out, ‘decide whether or not to include first breath in the album’.

See, I would’ve been more than happy to just wonder what song he was talking about and maybe ask him about it later, but is it really my fault if he kept his laptop open and signed in?

It’s all too easy to click on his files and scroll through them until I see what song he’s talking about.

If I really think hard about it, maybe this is my way of helping him with work. If I like the song, then I’ll just tell him to add it to the album. There! One sticky note down, five thousand to go!

I can’t find any headphones, so I just make sure the volume is low before double clicking on the file.

Hoseok’s voice comes first, quickly followed by Yoongi’s. One after another the rap line begins to tell a story.

It doesn’t take long for me to realize that this is a true story.

By the time the chorus rolls around, I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, clinging to the arm rest as though it’s the only thing keeping me in reality. Suddenly the question of whether or not he should include this in the album makes sense; it’s clear that this is a very personal song. It’s about us.

About me, I realize as Namjoon’s voice flows out. There’s a bit of disdain in his voice as he raps I had to hold my breath for seven years just to make everyone happy and that’s when I put two and two together.

This is the diss track. The diss track that’s not really a diss track but in a way is a diss track because we were kept apart for so long.

Yoongi is drawling out the final few notes when I hear someone clear their throat behind me.

“Having fun?”

I slam my knee up into the underside of Namjoon’s desk, crying out as I rub it. Namjoon comes over to my side, crouching beside me and cutting the music before putting his hands over my sore knee.

“Why did you have to scare me so bad?” I whine, hissing as Namjoon’s hands ghost over my knee. He grins at me, not looking at all apologetic.

“Since when did you start sneaking into my studio and listening to my music?” Namjoon’s voice is light, but I can see that he’s panicking a bit.

Rightly so.

“That was the diss track!” I practically shout, pointing at the screen. “I can’t believe you’ve never let me listen to it!”

Namjoon shakes his head, looking a little off as he pulls me to my feet. “It’s...you ready to eat?”

He dodges all of my other questions as we head out into the black SUV. I glare at him from where I sit beside him, only wanting an answer to my question.

Namjoon looks exhausted. More exhausted than I’ve ever seen him. He struggles to keep his eyes in one place as he stares out the window, his knee bobbing up and down.

His legs instantly settle as I place my hand atop his knee. “Did you really not want me to listen to it?”

Namjoon exhales a long sigh, finally turning to look at me. “I...isn’t it a bit overwhelming? I mean, that’s what the guys said when we recorded it. It’s all a bit too much, don’t you think?”

I furrow my brows, shaking my head. Of all the things that these boys have done, this is the project that seems over the top? “Of course not. Why do you think that?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Namjoon takes my hand in his and begins to study it like it’s some sort of newly discovered species. “I mean, the entire song is about how I felt like I never even breathed before I met you. It’s basically me confessing my undying devotion. Don’t you think that’s a little hardcore? Maybe too hardcore to put in the album?”

He has a point. It’s only about five months since we went public. Suddenly dropping a song that’s dedicated to his soulmate and not to his fans would probably hurt more than inspire.

“Can I tell you what I think?”

Namjoon’s eyes are bright as he nods at me. “Always.”

“I think you’re both right and wrong.” Namjoon looks confused but he doesn’t interrupt. “It’s intense, sure. Hardcore? Maybe. But it’s how you feel. And that’s all that really matters. I, for one, think it’s pretty great. It’s nice to know that you feel like that.”

“So you think I should put it into the album?”

I shrug. “If you want to, I guess. It’s up to you. I see where you’re hesitating; some people might not take to it. Especially since it hasn't been that long since everything happened. But I do think that there are probably some people out in the world that would like it.”

Namjoon nods, taking on a serious expression as he looks back out the window. It’s quiet for the rest of the ride; something that I’ve grown accustomed to with Namjoon. It’s only as we’re arriving at the small restaurant that everyone has gathered at that he turns back to me. I wait for him to speak, playing with the ring on his finger as he gathers his thoughts.

He sighs heavily, his breath making my hair fly and making me smile. He smiles back, albeit a little uncertainly.

“Can’t we be selfish?”

I stare up at him. That’s not what I expected. “What...what do you mean?”

Namjoon rolls his shoulders. “I love the song. And I’m so happy that you love it, too. And while I think that there might be a few people in the world that might love it as well, I just...I want to be selfish for once.”

He quiet for a moment as he prepares to say the rest of his speech. Turning to face him completely, I see the bodyguards outside the back entrance of the restaurant. The others must already be here.

“You...you’re everything to me.” Namjoon fights to keep a light tone, but I can see right through him. “And I already share so much with the rest of the world. I even have to share you, in a way. We have to be so open and transparent about everything, which I get it. It’s good. I don’t mind most of the time. But just this once, I want to be selfish. This one time, I don’t want to share.”

I slide over closer to him, smiling softly as his arms automatically encircle me. “So you don’t want to include the song in the album?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No. I don’t. I want it to be our song. Just ours. For your eyes and ears only.”

Reaching up to brush his hair away from his forehead I can’t help but laugh a little. My soulmate stares down at me, trying to figure out what’s made me laugh this time.

“What’s so funny about that?”

I shake my head. “No, I get it. That’s...perfect. Really. I would love nothing more than to be selfish with you.”

“Then...?”

Leaning up to brush a kiss against his cheek, I marvel at the way his cheeks still go a little red even after all these months. “I just can’t believe that you dedicated an entire diss track to me. I’m flattered.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, groaning as he leans over to open the car door. “You’re the worst.”

I laugh, following after him and instantly feeling better as I see that he doesn’t look quite so weighed down anymore. “No way! You can’t say that after you just dedicated a song to me! What was it that you say in it again? My first breath after swimming or something?”

Namjoon whirls around, feigning offense as he loops his arms around my shoulders. “It’s you’re my first breath after drowning under their expectations you little punk. Get it right.”

“Oooh, that’s right.” We push the door open and follow the sound of familiar voices. “Well, since you wrote a song about me...”

Namjoon pauses, pulling on my arm as I try to go on without him. “What? You can’t just say things like that and not finish them!”

I cackle at his exasperated expression. “I can’t really say much yet, but I’ll say this. Stay tuned for a new Webtoon about a pair of star-crossed soulmates.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen, a bit of boyish excitement peeking through. “Wait...really?” I nod. “That’s amazing! It’s about us, isn’t it? When is it coming out? Did you already pitch the idea? What are their-”

I cut him off, laughing as I back away from him. “Nope. That’s all the information you’re going to get, Joon.”

“What?! Why?”

Everyone goes quiet as we near the room, and I swear I can hear Taehyung mumbling something about how we’re here and as loud as always.

Holding up six fingers in front of my soulmate’s face, I glare at him. “Six months, Kim Namjoon. You made me wait six months before I found the song. And you didn’t even show me! Consider this my revenge.”

Striding off and leaving him in the dust, I barely catch what he mumbles under his breath, but I’m pretty sure I hear something along the lines of met my match and insufferable.

Winking at him over my shoulder, I can’t help but agree.

I’ve definitely met my match.

taglist: @mae-musicbitch @heartblackerthancoffee @agustneeds @eusticenatalie @taylorroe3 @dreamcatcherjiah

#Namjoon fluff #kim namjoon fluff #Namjoon soulmate au #rm fluff #rm soulmate au #Kim Namjoon soulmate au #joon #koya #bts soulmate au #bts soulmate fluff #bts fluff #7 secrets #bts writer #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts soulmate

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ikleesfiction · 4 years ago

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Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Word count : 3,762 words Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1 🞂 Part 2 🞂 Part 3 🞂 Part 4 🞂 Part 5 🞂 Part 6 🞂 Part 7 🞂 Part 8 🞂 Part 9

Part 10

It's been almost 6 months since you left Chicago. You spent those months working yourself to the bones as a way to forget Jay. It certainly was not a successful attempt, but at least you were too busy to think about him. You accepted Alex's idea to make a duo project and lazily named it "alex&y/n". You both started doing gigs at various clubs around the world. Pyramid, Alex's record company where you work for, continuously releases new sounds that you discovered. You keep writing and producing songs after songs. Really, your career is flourished. But deep inside, you're empty.

You never had a chance to go back to Chicago. Part of you was relieved that you don't have to deal with it yet. The other part of you was missing it so much. You might only stay four months in Chicago, but somehow the city (and its people) have marked their place in your heart.

You love Amsterdam. It's still your home, but its charm hasn't called you as it did before. Sure, you have your parents here. But you only got to meet them twice a week at best. Your work and their jobs don't leave lots of time to be together. Also, even though you have most of your friends in the city, you don't get to hang out with them all the time since you travel a lot for work. You get to make new friends along the way instead, just like you did in Chicago.

Case in point, you are currently in Norway, working on a song with Oliver Dahl, the number #1 DJ in the country.

Oliver's home studio is one of the best places you ever work in. The studio setup is practically the same as the one Pyramid has. But Oliver has a baby grand piano on one corner where through the window, you can see a tranquil lake with a green forest on its side. The view is calming and inspiring. So although Oliver is a much better pianist than you, you park yourself there and relegate him to a Korg keyboard.

"Hey, it's almost dinner time. Let's take a break," Oliver suggests to you. He guides you out from the studio and moves downstairs to his kitchen. The glass-paneled dining room has a door that leads to the back porch. You thought the view from the studio was great, but the view from down here is even better. You sit on a swing at the porch, take a deep breath of fresh air there.

Oliver comes out with two bottles of beer and hands you one, which you gladly accept. You switch your phone back on since you didn't want to be disturbed when you were working. It relentlessly buzzes once it's on. "Well, somebody is famous," teases Oliver.

You peek at your phone screen before grimacing at him, "Sorry. Nick needs something. I gotta call him back." You walk a few steps away from the porch. Without the roof over your head, you can feel slight drops of rain on your face. "Hey, boss. How's the meeting in Brussels go?"

"Infuriatingly slow. That is why I'm calling. I was hoping you can help us," Nick replies. He didn't sound too worried, so you thought it's going to be an easy request, "Sure. What is it?"

"Alex was supposed to have a phone interview with one of Chicago radio show, to talk about the new single of alex&y/n. Since our meeting here runs longer, could you do it in his stead? I know you don't like doing an unprepared interview, but I promise it won't be long, 15 minutes max."

"Alright, I'll do that." It's not like you can say no anyway.

"Great! I'll set it up. It's going to be in an hour. So don't mute your phone." Nick reminds you.

"I won't. It probably falls during our dinner here. I can keep my phone on."

"Thanks, y/n," Nick hangs up the call.

◢◤

Joe Cruz walks into the common-room of Firehouse 51 with his phone on hand. "Guys, Chicago Top 40 is interviewing Y/N right now!"

"Turn the volume up. I cannot hear it from here," Mouch complains from the couch as he mutes the tv. Joe pushes the side button of his phone and sets the volume to the max. Everyone continues doing their things quietly as they listen to the interview.

"We got one half of alex&y/n on the phone with us here. Dare I say the prettier half. Let's say hi to Y/N!" They hear the radio host cheers from Joe's phone.

"Hi, how are you doing?" you chuckle and greet back.

"We're all good here, thank you. So please tell us more about the latest single of alex&y/n? How did you guys come up with it?"

"We started writing this song probably about 8 months ago. I was in Chicago at the time actually," you start to explain.

"Oh, really? I didn't know you were in town," the host shortly interrupts.

"Yeah, it was back before we had any idea for this project. Alex came up with it when we made this song. It was supposed to be the first single of alex&y/n. But when I came back to Amsterdam, we wrote "Void" The team decided that it fitted better as the first single. Hence this song "Fiery Love" got pushed to be the second one."

The conversation regarding the song and the duo project goes on for another ten minutes before the interviewer wraps it up. Joe is about to close the radio app when he sees Jay Halstead and Hailey Upton step into the common-room of Firehouse 51.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Y/N," says the host on air. "What time is it anyway in your place right now? I haven't got a chance to ask where you are,"

Joe's thumb stills above his phone screen. "It's almost 7 PM in Bergen, Norway," you inform the radio. Jay stiffens as he hears your voice.

"Oh, you got a gig there tonight?" the host asks curiously.

"No. Just a bit writing and studio session," you answer vaguely.

"It must've been in a studio with a view, unlike our four wall booth here," the host retorts.

You snicker quietly, "If I could, I'd trade you in a heartbeat,"

"Oh, stop it! You're too kind," the host says, thinking you're jesting.

You let out a tiny laugh, "But no, I'm serious. I wish I didn't leave Chicago," you admit candidly on air. Totally unbeknownst to the strained atmosphere in the Firehouse 51 common-room.

"Come visit soon. We'll show you our fancy dig here," the radio host returns jokingly. Joe finally decides to close the radio app, as Matt Casey addresses their guests. "Detectives, how can we help you?"

Jay looks at his partner, neglecting the fact that everyone in the room is watching him, "Can you handle this by yourself? I.. I think I left my phone in the car," Hailey is sure that Jay didn't leave his phone, but she gives him an understanding nod.

"We need to see Chief Boden," Hailey answers Matt. He then guides her to the Chief's office. When both detectives are out of range, Hermann asks the room, "It was a bit awkward, wasn't it?" Everyone ignores Hermann's comment and back doing things they did before. Kelly Severide determinedly stands up from his seat and goes outside. He finds Jay standing in front of the squad truck.

"Hey, man," Kelly greets him. Jay just nods to acknowledge him. After a few moments of silence, Kelly breaks first, "She always asks about you whenever she calls."

Jay scoffs his disbelief, "Yeah, right."

"She is not a brave girl, Jay. But she really loves you. She still regrets hurting you." Kelly tells him. Jay stays silent, taking in Kelly's words. "I don't think she's doing well out there." Kelly continues. Jay glances at him before opening his mouth to say something. But at the same time, Hailey comes out with Matt. "Let's go," she tells Jay. He nods at Matt and leaves with her without saying anything.

As both detectives walk away, Kelly shouts to Jay, "Will you pick up? If she calls you?"

Jay halts and looks over his shoulder. Not sure what to answer, he just shrugs in response.

◢◤

The following week, you find yourself working alone in Alex's studio. You go through some demos, try to find a song that you'd like to work on. The door is suddenly opened and reveals Alex and Nick coming in.

"You planning on going home tonight?" Alex says as he hands you a mug of hot tea. It's not unusual for you to stay all night working. While it was beneficial for the company, your well being is still his priority.

"Maybe," you just shrug as you accept the mug. "Thanks. So what's up?"

"I got an offer for alex&y/n gig for an EDM festival," Nick starts. "What do you think about it?"

"Cool, I guess.." you answer indifferently.

"Yeah?" Alex tries to reconfirm your agreement. You never play a festival before, so far alex&y/n only do club gigs. Even though you're basically doing the same thing, the stage and crowd size sometimes could be overwhelming, especially for someone who doesn't like to perform live.

"Uhuh," you nod before sipping your tea.

"Don't you wanna know where it will be?" Nick pushes.

"No," you say in disinterest, already looking back at your laptop. Nick raises his eyebrow questioningly towards Alex, which he answers with a subtle nod. "Alright then, I'm gonna go home now. You two get some rest. We'll talk again tomorrow," Nick informs you before leaving the room.

Alex drags a chair and sits next to you. "Talk to me. Please"

"There's nothing to talk about," you reply to your cup. Alex nudges you. Once. Twice. Thrice. "Stop it!" you scold him as you roll your chair away.

"You know I can do this all night until you talk to me," Alex says as he slides closer to you.

You exhale loudly in defeat before quietly tell him, "It's just... I'm exhausted."

Somehow he knows that you're not only talking about your body. "I'll talk to Nick. We can cancel the rest of alex&y/n gigs,"

"You know we can't," you rebuff his idea.

"We might be able to do that if I offer to take them instead?" Alex offers a solution.

"And let you be the one who burnout? Hell no," you deny his suggestion. You tiredly rub your face with your palm, "It's alright, Lex. I should have just suck it up and do it,"

Both of you stay silent for a moment. You pick your tea mug from the table when Alex unsurely speaks again, "That gig Nick talked about is in Chicago," You freeze up until Alex prods you, "Still wanna do it?"

"What do you think?" you weakly ask for his opinion.

"I think we should do it. It'd be fun. We can try to arrange a few days off. You can take me to your favorite places in Chicago, meet your friends.." Alex tells you. It sounds nice, makes you want to say yes. But you still have doubt in the back of your mind. "It's been months, y/n. Time for you to face it. Face Jay." Alex continues as if he knows your thought.

"I can't!" you shake your head in resign. "And why is that?" Alex pushes further.

"Because I still love him!" you forcefully drop your mug on the table, the tea splashes out of it.

"Then tell that to Jay! Don't make the same mistake as you did before!" Alex yells back at you. You instantly feel like you've been slapped.

Avoiding Alex's stare, you start to pack up your things from the table. "I think I need to go home now. Don't think I can work on anything tonight." You grab your jacket and hastily walked out of the studio.

A couple hours later, Alex comes by to your place with a canvas bag on his shoulder, "I got a box of chocolate and a six-pack of La Trappe Tripel here,"

"I don't think they can help me feel better this time," you quip as you open the door for him. Alex pulls the beers and chocolate out from the bag and puts them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He reaches again to the bag, "Don't worry, I come prepared. Got jenever in here too," He sets the bottle next to the chocolate. You go to the kitchen and bring out two clean glasses.

"Are we starting right away?" Alex asks you in confusion.

"Are you waiting for something else?" you start to open one of the beer bottles.

"Don't you want to eat dinner first? Or maybe have bitterballen to snack on?" Alex suggests to you. You open the chocolate box and pop one candy into your mouth. "There, I ate something," you declare sarcastically before sipping the beer in your hand.

"Okay then," Alex accepts his defeat. He goes to your kitchen and sees what you have on your fridge. "You don't mind if I finish this leftover stew, right?" he hollers at you as he puts the container in the microwave.

You snort your answer, "Go ahead. It's not like you need permission to raid my pantry anyway,"

Alex comes back with a bowl of stew and sits next to you on the couch. You fiddle with your phone for a bit before a ballad song playing on your home speaker. Alex starts to talk about various things as he eats, updating you about his sister Sara, his meeting in Belgium. He even lets you know what he had for lunch today. He keeps talking because he knows you're not gonna say anything.

Alex cracks open his second beer while you finish your third one and start to pour the gin into your glass. "I'll Be Over You" by Toto is playing on your speaker. Alex exasperatedly rolls his eyes, thinking that his best friend could really be dramatic sometimes. You sprawl on the couch with your feet on top of Alex's lap. "What if he's moved on?" you say after long contemplation, ready to tackle more serious conversation. "Ready" as in drunk enough to talk about it.

"Well, you face that with head held high and moved on too," Alex replies. "Easier said than done, I know."

"Big chance he doesn't want to see me anyway," you mutter to yourself. But Alex still answers you, "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never know without going there,"

◢◤

It's been 7 months since you left Chicago and Jay Halstead still kept your last voicemail on his phone. Even when he's so mad at you, Jay never had the heart to delete it. Because somewhere deep inside, he could hear your sincerity. Jay is desperate to believe that you honestly love him and care about him.

Before Severide approached him the other day, nobody ever talked to Jay about his ex-girlfriend. Jay never apologized for pushing Adam. His friends guessed that his relationship ended, but no one ever said anything about it. His brother always abruptly changed the radio whenever your song was played on-air, acting all annoyed. But he knows Will is secretly still a fan of your music, just not in front of Jay. He thinks they're all worried that talking about you would raise his temper. But the truth is Jay misses you.

After his anger passed by, Jay could understand your position. You were left alone, befriending strangers in some city that far from home. While Jay understood that you missed home, he's still disappointed over the fact that you didn't tell him sooner. But it already happened, you made your choice. Now Jay is left with a bruised heart and silently pined over his ex.

Jay is lost in his thoughts. He jolts in surprise when he feels something cold and wet on his cheek. Jay looks up to find Will, who hands him a glass of beer. "How is the game going? Anything interesting happens when I'm gone?" Will asks Jay as he sits and looks down to the ice rink. They are at the United Center arena, watching a Blackhawks game.

"Nah, you don't miss much," Jay tells his brother. "Thanks for taking me here, man."

"It's nothing. I want to do something for your birthday, but since I have to work double shifts tomorrow, we just have to celebrate early." Will raises his glass for a toast. The brothers shout wildly during the game, chant together with other spectators in the stadium, basically having a good time. When the game is on a break, Will and Jay trade a light banter between each other. The jumbotron above plays adverts that they ignore.

"This summer, coming back to the Soldier Field Arena. We proudly present, Spring Awakening Music Festival! Featuring..."

When they hear the ad's narrator mentions "alex&y/n" Jay spontaneously looks up at the jumbotron. There was a picture of you and Alex, standing back to back, staring hard through the camera. Even with the cold gaze and unsmiling face, Jay still thought you look good. The announcement was certainly a surprise. Jay remembered when you told him that you don't like to perform in front of crowds. Now here you are, headlining a big stage. Time's changed, he thinks to himself.

Jay keeps looking at the gigantic screen, even though now it's showing another ad. If anyone asks him, Jay cannot tell what this new ad is about. His mind is busy thinking about something/someone else. Will glances at his brother and notices the tightness of Jay's shoulders. "I won't come to see them, even if they give me free tickets," he remarks wittily. Jay burst out a laugh and elbow his brother, "Thanks, man." he is grateful for his brother's understanding.

◢◤

Jay wakes up late the next morning. He spent the night listening to your podcasts and fell asleep with your voice on his ears. Seeing you on the jumbotron made him missed you more. His phone battery was drained, his alarm didn't ring. It's only because of habits from his ranger days that he woke up and gets ready in time to go to work.

Just as he walks out of his place, a delivery man is stopping him. "I got a package for Jay Halstead?"

"Yeah, that's me," Jay says distractedly, trying to recall if he orders anything online. The guy hands him a bag and a receipt form. Jay skims the paper before signing it. On the shipper box, it is stated, "Belgian Chocolatier Piron, Inc." He returns the signed form to the courier. "Thank you. Have a nice day, Sir", chirps the man. Jay pauses slightly, looking at the bag, before running to his car once remembers that he's late for work.

Once Jay arrives at the district, he puts the suspicious package on his desk. He opens the bag cautiously and pulls out a golden cardboard box with a black bow tied around it. He digs deeper into the bag but finds nothing more, no notes or cards, just this golden box.

"You got a box of Piron?! Can I have one? Please?" Jay hears Kim Burgess squeals at him.

"What the hell is a Piron?" Adam Ruzek asks loudly from behind her. Kim starts to pull the bow, but Jay moves the box away quickly. "I don't even know who it's from. We should be careful. I'll send it to the lab.."

"Is that Piron?!" Hailey Upton shrieks as she steps closer to Jay's desk.

"What? You know about this Piron too?" Adam baffles even further.

"They are like one of the best chocolatiers in town." Hailey impatiently explains to Adam. "Is it yours, Jay?" She sounds rather demanding than asking.

"Yes, it's Jay's. And he wants to bring it to the forensic lab. Unbelievable..." Kim says disapprovingly.

"I don't even know who send it! Aren't you worried if it turns out to be a bomb or a deadly virus?" Jay tries to reason to his teammates, who are now circling around him.

"What bomb?" They all jump in surprise when they hear Voight from behind them.

"Ah, it's nothing, Sarge. There are no bombs anywhere. At least not in the city of Chicago... Maybe..." Jay rambles.

"Are you gonna open that box, Halstead?" Voight cuts him off, pointing at the innocent box.

"I'm not sure, Sarge," Jay meekly admits. Voight pulls the black bow that was half undone because of Kim and opens the box gently. "Oh no, it's a bomb," Adam whispers as he hides behind Kevin Atwater but peeks over his shoulder. The girls are excitedly bouncing on their heels, seeing the rows of chocolate inside the box. Voight takes one and confidently bites into it. "You should never waste good chocolate. By the way, happy birthday, Jay." He pats Jay's shoulder before stepping toward his office. Jay gives Voight a small smile, though he still confounds about the situation.

Jay looks at the rest of the team. Hailey bites a candy on her right hand as she picks another with her left. Kim got half-bitten chocolate on her fingers. Her eyes were closed as she savors the taste. Adam's hand hovers above the box, cautiously looking at his teammates, "You girls feel okay? No dizziness, nausea, anything?" His questions were left unanswered since the girls were too busy munching.

Kevin offers Jay a handshake and continues with a quick hug, "Happy birthday, bro!" Jay clasps his shoulder, "Thanks, Kev,"

"So someone sent you this as a birthday gift, huh? Quite special, isn't it?" Kevin picks one candy from the box.

"I guess. If only I knew who sent it..." Jay wonders. He also takes one piece of chocolate and nibbles into it. The bittersweet taste suddenly reminds him of a particular someone. At the same time, his phone chirps on his desk. Jay checks his phone and finds a voice memo from an unknown, international number. He moves to a quieter place and listens to the message.

"Hi, Jay," Jay holds his breath, recognizing the voice on the other end. "It's me, y/n... I just want to wish you a happy birthday... Hope you enjoy the chocolate," He waits as you hesitate to continue. "Err... Stay safe, alright? I love you." As if just realizing what you've said, Jay hears you curse in panic, "oh shi.." and the message briskly ends.

Next on this fic : Part 11

+x Taglist +x

@shipshipshipau @itsdesiree86 @thevelvetseries @annaallicce

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puddygeeks · 4 years ago

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𝑊𝑎𝑟 𝑂𝑓 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 - 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠, 𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑖𝑑 𝑥 𝑂𝐶 - 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 6: 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝐵𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: 𝐴𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑢𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝐴�� 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡.

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Status: Ongoing

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 & 𝑠𝑒𝑥𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑏𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝐴𝑈'𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘. 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑, 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤.

Eᴘɪsᴏᴅᴇ: Pʀᴇ Sᴇᴀsᴏɴ 1

Chapter Six

“We’re missing something.” I muttered to myself, as Reid and I examined the small room in the house that had been locked. I’d lost track of how many times we had checked this room already, but as we’d been left to finish investigating here, we were both drawn back to this room as if it were the key to the mystery. “I can see how Logan took Amanda, how he held her and we know that he took her for revenge. So, why move her now and then just lie in wait for us? If he knew we were coming, you would think that he’d try to avoid us, but he didn’t. He just hid her from us. Why?”

“Some part of his revenge fantasy isn’t complete yet. He might be confident that he can clear his name and return to collect her later. Or he has factored his arrest into his plans somehow. The time with us serves some kind of purpose for his fantasy.” Reid thought aloud and I rubbed at my temples.

“It doesn’t make sense. She’s literally right under our noses. Why can’t I find her?” I hissed irritably, the pressure that hung over me only growing with every hour that passed and Reid glanced up at me with his brows furrowed in concern.

“It’s not just your responsibility, Alice. We’re a team.” He advised, a self conscious smile filling his face and I ran my fingers through my hair in a gesture of stress.

“I know, but Agent Hotchner-” I paused abruptly, reminding myself of our earlier conversation about dropping the formalities and attempted to respect his wishes. “Hotch pulled a lot of strings to get me on this case. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“You won’t.” Reid assured me, flashing me a smile before he moved off to examine the rest of the house again.

I made my way outside to get some air, feeling shaken by the unusual reality of being physically present in the place where our victim had been held and busied myself with investigating the external elements of the property for clues. Hotch and Morgan had returned to the main building with our suspect for questioning, but my instinct told me that they would be unlikely to pry anything from Logan that he wasn’t willing to share, due to the careful control that we’d seen in his actions so far.

The sharp ringtone of my mobile pulled me from my thoughts and I glanced at the screen to find Penelope calling.

“Greetings, my fine British scone! I have dug into all blueprints for the home as you asked and at least officially, there is no basement, no extra building permits and no small spaces that you and Reid haven’t already searched.” She explained, attempting to use her bright attitude to soften the impact of the information and I sighed in disappointment.

“Are they getting anywhere with the interview?” I asked hopefully, beginning to pace in the garden of the property impatiently. We had little to work with at this point and I remained conscious of the clock for child abductions, which had been against us since we arrived.

“Nada, I’m afraid. It seems that this Bo Peep is keeping very secretive track of his sheep.” She answered and I cursed under my breath in annoyance. “This team knows what they’re doing, Ally. They’ll crack him, eventually.”

“Amanda doesn’t have time to wait for that.” I groaned, the helplessness of the situation already grating at me. “We must have missed something in this guy's history. Maybe there’s a link to the Sweeney Todd stuff that we haven’t noticed. Have you found any more files on Logan in the military system?”

“Honey, you would be shocked at how little the military has modernised. Not only am I having to battle against heavy encryption, but a whole bunch of information hasn’t been digitised yet. They’re still recording an awful lot of their logs with pen and paper.” She divulged with an obvious sense of disgust and I felt my interest peak.

“Do they keep the paper records on site? And if so, can you get me access to them?” I suggested, waiting with baited breath for her answer and Penelope simply chuckled confidently.

“Of course I can. I’ll get hold of the Colonel now. Head over to office 4A, that’s where they store it all. I’ll have one of those charming soldier boys bring your laptop and an access code for you.” She instructed proudly and I had to smile as I hung up the phone to search for Reid.

Once back inside the house, I found him staring intently at a picture on the wall in the master bedroom and seeming as if he was lost in thought. I cleared my throat as I approached to keep from startling him, but he didn’t move at all to acknowledge me.

“Penelope might have a lead for us. She’s arranging access to the paper files in 4A. I’m thinking some of the details about Logan’s past might be buried in there. Want to ride along?” I offered, causing him to finally turn to face me with interest and I couldn’t help noticing how handsome he looked when he was concentrating.

“That’s a good idea. Perhaps something was omitted from the original report when it was added to the system.” He agreed, causing me to smile at the support for my suggestion. I wasn’t used to having colleagues appreciate my input and it still gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling every time that this team trusted me. “I’m gonna stay here, if you’re okay going alone? I think I’m close to something.” He checked, examining my face closely for any signs of discomfort, until I nodded in confirmation.

“Sure. I can fly solo. I’ve got my phone on me, so just call if there’s anything I can do to help out.”

--⥈--

When Penelope described the base as behind the times, I hadn’t ever imagined a level of disorganisation this extreme to be possible amongst military personnel. I’d set up my laptop at the small desk in the room, before sitting cross legged on the floor amongst the stacks of boxes that almost reached the ceiling in places.

Even the soldier who had granted me access seemed too daunted by the task ahead of me to be able to cope with remaining in the cramped room and after many reassurances that I was quite capable of sitting here alone, he’d returned to his post. Time had already lost meaning and I was growing bleary eyed from the onslaught of information.

Fortunately, Penelope broke up the task by giving me regular updates on the team, who were still having little success in their interrogation of the suspect and were now highly relying on Reid and I to find something that they could use to pressure him.

There were countless reports of Logan’s antisocial behaviour amongst the boxes and it became clear that his friendship with Franklin as he rose to power allowed him far more leniency than any other member of staff would have received in similar circumstances. There was very little information on his wife Stacey, who seemed to have joined the military later in life and met her husband there. She was an otherwise painfully ordinary soldier, serving her time with little distinction and a simple life right up until her death.

I sighed as I got to my feet and stretched out my limbs, desperation creeping up on me. There was nothing here that bought us any closer to finding Amanda and at this point, I was losing faith that we would ever recover her alive. I pulled out my phone to contact Reid in the hope that he might have had some success, but realised that I had no service. With a dramatic groan, I navigated my way through the maze of paperwork that I’d created to reach the door, only to find that it wouldn’t open.

A cold chill ran down my spine, causing my stomach to flip and I couldn’t deny a feeling of severe dread pooling in my stomach. Instinctively, I pulled the handle a few more times, but after my earlier performance with a simple wooden door, I knew that I wasn’t getting out of this steel, electronic locked door without help. Holding my phone up in the air, I paced the room in an effort to catch a signal to little success, before I was interrupted by a loud sound in the distance that caused the ground to shake.

“Shit!” I hissed, grabbing a nearby shelf for balance and noticing that my heartbeat had already quickened in my chest. I hit my phone in a panic, desperate to get through to someone and just as I felt myself losing control, my gaze fell onto my laptop.

Dropping into the seat heavily, my fingers grazed over the keys with an urgent desire to seek help. I first confirmed that the base’s systems were all locked out, meaning that I couldn’t contact any of the team or any military support, but was blessed to discover that my connection to the FBI system was still live. Immediately, I utilised this to get in touch with Penelope and the moment that her face filled my screen, I sighed with relief.

“Oh, Alice! Thank god you’re okay!” She gasped before I could even get a word out and the flustered expression that she wore only intensified my fear. It was clear that whatever had happened was unexpected for her too and I knew that whatever piece of the puzzle that we were missing was likely about to complicate our situation.

“What the hell is going on?” I breathed, noticing that something was flashing in the background of her video and as I concentrated harder, I realised that I could hear alarms.

“There was an explosion in the main building. We think that it came from Colonel Franklin’s office, but I can’t tell. The security systems have kicked in. We’re trapped in this room.” She answered hurriedly, her eyes wide with panic and as I opened my mouth to ask if the Colonel had made it, he appeared behind her. “I think there’s been a couple of other targets too, as the base system has gone down. This is not the work of a hacker, or you and I would definitely have been targeted. Whoever it is likely blew up the actual server rooms themselves just to kick us out. I was terrified that there might have been one in your room too.” She admitted, seeming shaken by the idea and I quickly caught up to what she was implying.

“To get rid of the paper trail, too. Colonel, how many people know about this backlog of paperwork here?” I enquired nervously, attempting to quash the fear that I might meet a fiery death at any moment and he moved to take a seat beside Penelope.

“We had an administrator a while ago who was responsible for amalgamating all of the paperwork onto the system, but other than that it’s only top ranking staff.” He explained in confusion and I released a long breath in relief.

“Alright. So, other than the soldier that you just had in here, there’s hardly anyone on this base who knows that you are still holding paper documentation. We can assume that if I haven’t been blown up already, I’m probably safe. Unfortunately, I’m also locked in, so I have no choice but to test that theory.” I reported, causing Penelope to frown in terror and I fidgeted awkwardly in my seat at the thought. “What about the rest of the team? Are they okay?”

“I can’t get hold of them. It’s possible that the cell towers have also been blown out.” Penelope revealed, tears beginning to fill her eyes and I found myself holding my head in my hands as I considered our predicament. The faces of each of our team members flashed through my mind and I said a quick prayer in my mind for each of them to calm my anxiety.

“The lockdown protocol would only affect high priority areas. This room houses all of our main access to the base systems, the room that Hawthorne is in has our physical records and the cell block where your agents are interviewing closes to contain prisoners. The rest of the base will already be proceeding with evacuation.” The colonel explained, his demeanour significantly calmer than either of us and I strained to come up with a plan.

“If this evacuation procedure is known by the whole base, there’s a chance that a bomb could already be in place to inflict more casualties. They’d be sitting ducks.” I analysed, looking back up at the screen with severity as I realised that everyone but Reid was trapped behind locked doors somewhere. “We need to override the locks somehow. Where is your security system housed?”

“Right where you are, Agent. There should be a large metal container in the corner.”

Wasting no time, I jumped to my feet to rush to the cupboard and entered the code that the Colonel provided to open it. Behind the innocuous looking metal doors was a spaghetti junction display of wires to an ancient security system and I could hardly believe that anyone would still be using such antiquated technology.

“You have got to be kidding me!” I exclaimed as I marched over to grab my laptop and placed it on a box with a clear view of the cupboard’s contents. “I hope you’re up to date with your caveman technology, Nels. This is like Jurassic Park in here.” I announced, hearing a dissatisfied groan from her over the speakers.

“This is absolutely criminal. Fortunately, I toyed with robotics for a while before computer science, so I might be able to crack this.” She calculated as she began drawing out the pattern of the wiring on a piece of paper. “It looks like there’s a simple enough bypass here, but it’s going to take me a few minutes to figure it out.”

“Colonel, I’ve looked at everything that you have on Logan and nothing here is giving us the answers that we need to find your daughter. I can’t find a connection to Sweeney Todd at all. Sure, there’s a similar feeling that he could be inspired by, but plenty of stories could say the same. There has to be a reason why he chose that particular one. Did the Logan’s have a love of musicals as a couple?” I asked, deciding to utilise our waiting time to keep the focus on Amanda, instead of obsessing over the safety of our colleagues.

“Not that I remember. They were average soldiers, into sports and barbecues. They weren’t the type to read often, so I can’t understand why he would be this obsessed with some story?” The Colonel answered, his frustration evident as he struggled to comprehend the relevance of this conversation.

“What about Stacey? She joined service late. From the limited background information in her file, it doesn’t seem like she was military bred. Was there anything in particular that led her to enlist?” I probed, desperately trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle and he sighed deeply at me.

“I don’t know what it is that you’re trying to say about her, Agent Hawthorne, but she was a good soldier. Her unit was everything to her. She treated them like a family. Even gave them haircuts when they were on tour.” He growled, seeming thoroughly offended by my questions and I quirked a brow at him in interest. “She was a barber before she enlisted. It was her fathers trade and she followed in his footsteps. I can tell you that came in incredibly handy when you’re living in the middle of the desert.” He added defensively and I jumped to my feet to scatter around paperwork in search of something specific. A theory clicked in my mind at this revelation and I knew that it had to be the connection that we needed.

“Sir, we believe that your daughter is still on this base. We’ve been looking for places that relate to you, or your wife, but I suspect that it may have more relevance to Stacey. Is there anywhere on this base that she would offer haircuts? Or did you have a specific barber shop here at any point?” I pelted out the questions in quick succession as I laid the blueprint of the base out on the floor and busied myself with examining it again.

“I already told your agents that. The people here go to a family business in the next town. It’s owned by a grandparent of one of the troops. We support each other in the military.” He answered aggressively and I scanned the document before me with confusion. Something seemed out of place, a structure that I didn’t recognise and as I grabbed a current map to compare it, I noticed that it wasn’t marked.

“This building here is on the blueprint, but not the map. What is it?” I interrogated, holding up the document accusingly and he rolled his eyes at me.

“It’s marked for demolition, but the project has been put on hold. We decided not to list it on the new maps as it was supposed to be gone by now. It’s a world war 2 relic, structurally unsound and not fit for purpose. We already had troops search it before we even called your team.” He elaborated impatiently, glancing over at Penelope as if it were her fault that I was wasting his time.

“That was before he moved her.” I argued, drawing his attention back to me instantly. “What was it used for? The building?”

“Storage mostly. For a long time it was considered a historical landmark, because many of the soldiers that were stationed here in the war wrote about it in their letters home. They would creep in there at night to smoke cigars and drink moonshine.” He began to describe in a bored tone, before pausing abruptly in a chilling manner that allowed all of the colour to drain from his face. “They...they used to call it the barber club.”

“That’s it! That’s where he’s holding her. Penelope, I need these doors open!” I ordered frantically, hardly able to contain the energy that pulsed through my body and she nodded back resolutely.

“I know, my love. I think I’ve got it. Follow my instructions very clearly.” She demanded as I placed myself in front of the cupboard and felt my hands shaking from the pressure.

Step by step, she guided me through the process, disconnecting wires and rerouting things that I barely understood for myself like a pro. Were the circumstances less dire, I would have littered her with praise for her efforts, but I didn’t have the space in my mind for that now. Finally, there was one switch left to flip and the moment that I did, I heard the door click open from across the room.

Before I could even begin to celebrate our success, the sound of an explosion rocketed from nearby and the entire room shook hard enough to knock me from my feet, causing even the Colonel to freeze in shock.

“I...I think that might have come from the barber club.” Penelope mumbled regretfully, whilst the Colonel fought back tears, seeming as if he were in shock. It seemed that even powerful leaders were not immune to the emotion of losing a child and I had to channel my own determination to keep things moving.

“I’m the closest to that building right now. Penelope, find the team and send them to meet me there. We’re gonna need medics, too.” I blurted as I got to my feet with determination, prompting the Colonel to launch into action too as he charged through the door to her side and left her looking flustered.

“Alice, the building is probably already on fire! Just wait for backup.” She pleaded, her eyes filling with tears as she stared into the camera. I stepped away from the laptop to grab a rag to cover my face, planning to protect myself from the smoke that was likely and turned back to face her with fire in my eyes.

“I can’t. Send the team and stay safe, Nels.” I ordered, before rushing out of the room and into the chaos of outside.

As expected, the air was heavy with smoke from multiple directions and people were running around in panic all around me. Now that I had left the well protected room, I was overwhelmed by the blaring sound of sirens and lights flashing from overhead. It was clear that things had already spiralled out of control and I tried to prevent myself from being sucked into the mania. Mentally following the blueprints, I ran in the direction of the unmarked building, being passed by numerous scared civilians who simply lived here due to their partners enlistment and were not equipped for these circumstances.

As I turned the corner to the large old storage unit, I found that Penelope had been correct in placing the most recent explosion and there was already fire spreading within. For a moment, I couldn’t bring myself to move as I stared up at it with a crushing feeling of defeat, but following a bolt of rebellion, I launched myself inside to search for Amanda.

Fortunately, I thought to tie the rag around my face for protection and instead of struggling to breathe, I was taken aback by how little I could see once inside. I placed my hand on the nearest wall and used it to navigate my way as I strained to remember the building’s layout.

The air was agonisingly hot, worse than I had even imagined that it would be and every step that I took felt impossibly hotter. I had no idea how far I would be able to go, as I knew from the plans that this was a vast space and it was impossible to know where exactly Amanda would be hidden, if she hadn’t already died in the blast.

Smoke filled my lungs, causing me to cough heavily and burned at my eyes. I could feel myself growing weaker and though I considered whether I would be able to make it out, I wasn’t willing to turn back yet. My posture shrivelled under the strain, crouching down to avoid the oppressive heat and without warning, I tripped over something very solid.

Somehow I managed to land on my hands and knees to avoid any serious injury and turned to investigate the cause of my fall. From feeling alone, I quickly realised that the object I was touching was, in fact, a person and judging from the size, it was highly likely to be a child. I wished that I could see enough to identify them, before remembering that Amanda had very short, almost graded hair and a quick feel of her head left me feeling confident that I had found her.

Coughing burned at my chest and I knew that I didn’t have much time, so I began to drag her in the direction that I’d come from. It was even harder now to tell where I was going as the fire rapidly spread through the unstable building and it took every ounce of my strength to keep moving with Amanda in tow.

The rag around my face only seemed to be making it harder to breathe now and I ripped it off as I could tell that I was nearing the exit. Unfortunately, my bulletproof vest that I was still wearing constricted my chest uncomfortably, but I couldn’t wiggle out of it without wasting precious moments that I needed to escape. Some of the structure began to collapse behind me and I yelped in panic, hoisting Amanda’s limp form into my arms for protection.

With one final burst of defiance, I stumbled out into the open air, gripping onto her tightly and continued walking into the chaos that stretched in every direction in search of help. Unfortunately, no one was waiting for me outside as I’d hoped and the various explosions were still causing panic as people ran around me in a fluster.

My entire body ached as I fought to drag myself onward, glancing around frantically for someone who could assist us and as I finally ran out of energy, I stopped to look down at the girl that I was carrying. Despite all of the soot and sweat that covered her young features, I still easily recognised her and squeezed her to me warily.

“Don’t give up, kid.” I wheezed, hardly able to get the words out from my burned throat.

Finally, an ambulance skidded into view and I sighed in relief. Closely behind them were my team, including even Penelope, who ran toward me in desperation and I thanked every force I could think of for providing me with colleagues who cared enough to seek me out. I almost burst into tears as two paramedics rushed over to meet me and I assisted in lowering Amanda to the ground so that they could work on her.

“Is she alive? Is she gonna be okay?” I whispered, my voice hoarse and dry despite the power of my emotions and the medics ignored me as they frantically prepared an oxygen tank and mask for her. I watched them impatiently, unable to tear my eyes off the little girl’s delicate form, even as Penelope charged up to examine me.

“Are you hurt? Oh my god, I can’t believe that you went in there! You’re insane!” She scolded, fussing over me with teary eyes as she reached to take my face in her hands, but I batted her off with annoyance.

“Is she alive?!” I repeated, much louder this time despite the pain that it caused me and one of the paramedics looked up at me with annoyance.

Before they could get a single word of explanation, or scolding out, Amanda gasped loudly, spluttering for air and it took the full attention of both paramedics to calm her enough to benefit from the mask. Almost immediately after, Colonel Franklin arrived and dropped by her side in relief, holding her to him whilst she refilled her lungs.

My knees gave way from the weight of my own relief, but fortunately Morgan was quick to catch me as the rest of my team surrounded us and he swept me off my feet, leaving Hotch to wave down another ambulance for me. Though I fought to tell them that I was fine, the only sound that I could manage to make was coughing as my lungs finally gave in to the effects of smoke inhalation and Morgan carried me protectively straight to the back of the second ambulance that parked beside us.

In order to save time, Morgan simply sat me on the back of the open vehicle instead of allowing the medics to take me fully inside and they strapped an oxygen mask to my face before I could protest. Reid pushed past the staff with a determined expression and ripped off the bulletproof vest that I wore in an efficient manner, quickly calculating that it was restricting me and I felt an immediate improvement in my breathing the moment that it was released.

As he stepped back out of my space with a sly smile, I gripped the oxygen mask as if it were the most important thing in my world and allowed myself a few moments to catch my breath, whilst Penelope took a seat beside me to hold my free hand soothingly.

“Reid, Morgan. Keep an eye on Alice. I’ll talk to the Colonel.” Hotch ordered, nodding at me to check that I was okay with him leaving, before he strode over to the first ambulance where Amanda had now been situated for further treatment.

I felt too exhausted to even argue as the two boys took their places in front of me, guarding the entrance to the ambulance and staring down at me with amazement in their faces. Though it was subtle, I caught a brief smirk in Morgan’s face as he peeked at Reid, raising his brows at the vest that he held as if implying something, but I couldn’t bring myself to address it at the moment.

“What were you thinking running in there alone, kid? You have a whole team here. You don’t have to be the big hero.” Morgan scolded, though his tone was still light enough to reveal his amusement at this outcome.

Behind them, a fire truck arrived to begin battling the blaze and it seemed that the military had finally regained control of the situation as they set to work evacuating the alarmed residents that still remained in the area. I watched them with interest, hoping that they had realised the danger of following their usual plan and Reid cleared his throat, catching my eye.

“They’re evacuating to a completely different spot than the agreed plan. Whilst you were locked away, I found the nearest officer and advised them of the risk that the unsub would target the evacuation zone.” He explained, as if reading my mind and when I furrowed my brows in confusion, he chuckled shyly. “Garcia told us that you were worried about it and I noticed that you were watching them. I’m just...I’m sorry that I didn’t come with you.” He added, staring down at his feet guiltily and I removed my mask to address him.

“Reid, you have nothing to apologise for.” I wheezed, cringing immediately at how awful my voice sounded and though Penelope tried to force the mask straight back on, I pushed it away again. “I’m serious. All of these people are safe because you didn’t get trapped with me. You did your job and I’m fine. No harm done.” I insisted, prompting him to drag his gaze back up to me with a smile, which was painfully addictive for me, until we were interrupted by Hotch.

“I’d like a moment to speak to Alice alone.” He announced, his expression as stern as ever.

Reid and Morgan made an excuse about needing to check on Amanda, quickly excusing themselves from the conversation, but Penelope hesitated for a few moments longer, before finally caving to his intense stare. Once we were alone, Hotch crossed his arms in a gesture that indicated I was about to receive a lecture and I gulped in dread.

“Going into that building was reckless. It was a risk with no guaranteed reward, especially for someone who is not a trained field agent.” He began, his tone scolding and I nodded slowly in acceptance, feeling any future opportunities to work with the FBI slipping through my fingers.

“However, you took action despite great personal risk and even considering your lack of experience, you did what needed to be done. You were honest with Garcia about where you were going and what you needed, showing that you trusted your team to have your back. These are not qualities that can be taught. If you had waited, Amanda would likely be dead. You have an enormous amount of potential, Alice and that saved a girl's life today. “

“Thank you, Sir.” I wheezed, coughing from the strain of my words and he softened his expression slightly as he viewed me.

“As you played such a large role in this case, I would appreciate it if you could return to Quantico with the team to complete your reports, so that I can oversee them.” He requested and I nodded without hesitation. “We’ll arrange for someone to take you back to your hotel for the night. I imagine you could do with some rest. You’ll join us on the jet first thing tomorrow.”

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prismatales · 5 years ago

Text

Phonecall

Anon asked: Hi I was wondering if I could request an ~angsty~ fic where Todo finds out his s/o got severely injured in a fight, since they intern under a pro hero?

OOoooh! My first Angsty request! Let's see how this turns out! *cracks knuckles* Since you didn't specify the pronouns I'm going for a gender neutral character.

The mission had been a success, or so had everyone thought the moment the Pros, sidekicks and interns -including you- had finally apprehended all members of the Hallow Brotherhood, one of the most dangerous organizations to be known in the underground all over Japan.

The outcome of the raid had been expected, the organization's dealings with the black market, human trafficking and drugs dealings had been discovered and dealt with, ending their vicious rule once an for all.

Unfortunately success always comes with a price.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye, the mission was supposed to go effortlessly, that was the sole reason only a few sidekicks and you had been sent to a reckon mission during the raid on the other side of the building, for an operation which was meant to be done in a matter of minutes:

Scout the perimeter, find as much additional evidence you could about the organization; Their leaders, suppliers and connections all around the black market and go back to the meeting point in three hours...Easy, right?

But nothing's simple when it comes to success and hero work, your team found out the hard way...

...

To say Todoroki was worried was but a mere minimization of his current emotions, he was shaking from anxiety, he had been on edge since you started the internship and were called to assist with this mission. While Midoriya, Kirishima, Tsuyu and Uraraka were on their own assignment, you had been requested by another group of Pros, alongside Setsuna Tokage from class 1-B for a different operation, but still as top secret and high-priority as theirs.

After their run in with Stain in Hosu, Todoroki didn't hear the end of it from his s/o, the moment he stepped inside the classroom. The agitated look in their eyes made it crystal clear that (Y/N) had been worried sick the instant the news of the hero killer injuring three students of U.A. had been released to the public.

Yes, hero work was not and would never be a walk in the park, someone was always bound to get hurt, everybody knew that, and yet it didn't pacify your nerves after hearing about your boyfriend and friend's altercation with one of the most dangerous villains in Japan.

An agreement had been made between you both, now matter what you were doing; training, exams, internships, official hero work once you graduated, you'd always call each other as soon as the mission was over.

"Promise me you'll call?"

He remembered those puppy eyes and that pout he just couldn't bring himself to refuse, of course he wasn't going to say no to begin with. Gently grabbing your hands and kissing the knuckles softly, Todoroki let out a reassuring smile that helped calm down the small pit of concern growing inside your stomach.

"I promise"

That was months ago, and he remembered every single time you both called each other if anything happened.

The time of the training camp? You were the first one to call him in the middle of the attack to make sure he was fine.

When he followed Midoriya and the other to rescue Bakugo? He called you once everyone was safe and sound.

Your very first day on patrol during your current internship? He got a call as soon as you were done and back at the agency.

And yet he couldn't stop the uneasiness slowly accumulating inside of him, you said the mission would take long, but he never thought it would be this long. The air around him was tense, anyone that got close enough to him could sense the suffocating feeling inside the dorm.

Iida was the first one to approach, placing a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder in hopes of helping calm down the heterochromatic guy's nerves.

"Todoroki, I understand that you're worried but remember, (Y/N) is quite a competent hero, there's no reason to be worried about" His hand moved on its own, making his signature gestures as he attempted to help his classmate and close friend.

Nobody was prepared to hear Mina gasp from her spot on the tables were she and the girls were studying together. Her hands covered her mouth in horror at the scene that appeared on her laptop. The others quickly went to see what had left the pink haired girl in a state of dread.

Their reaction varying from horror to shock, but the one feeling everyone shared in that moment along with the silence was the unease to look back at Todoroki, whom seemed to realize something was terribly wrong.

"What happened?" he walked up to their spot, noticing some of his classmates didn't really wanted to answer him, more than one actually trying to take the laptop away before he could catch sight of the screen. It was Momo who started talking to him.

"Todoroki-san...you might want to sit down first" she asked before he could get closer, concern on her features as everyone looked at him worriedly. He only squinted at everyone in the room before approaching to see what had rilled everyone up.

Someone had streamed the aftermath of a fight, it was the city where you had gone for the internship. The scenario was like the apocalypse had occurred.

A building had exploded, the pros were rescuing people caught in the explosion, paramedics had been called in order to help. The sound of screaming and cries could be heard all around the footage as people were being rescued from debris, unfortunately some people didn't made it.

That's when they saw an agitated Tokage hugging herself in the background, body covered in dirt and bruises as she talked to the Pro you were working with, she was shaking as the both gazed upon something laid before their feet, something that left Shoto so distressed he unconsciously activated his flames.

Even from afar the sight of a body covered by a sheet was visible with a stain of blood nearly soaking the fabric. His legs nearly gave up on him and the voices of his friends became static.

That couldn't be (Y/N), you said you'd be careful...it couldn't be you!

All of the memories of you and him together came back to mind...The day you guys awkwardly confessed to eachother at the same time, the day you met his mother, the mess the both of you had made in the kitchen the first time you tried to make homemade soba.

"We found another one!" Someone's voice cried loudly in the video, causing him to slowly look up at the screen, and his breath got caught in his throat when he realized the person being carried in a stretcher was his (Y/N).

You were alright....You were alright!....right?

That's what he wanted to believe, but the sight of your battered body, and the wound on your abdomen that slowly soaked the front of your costume with blood made the paranoia overpower his senses as he saw the ambulance take you away as quickly as they could.

Accordingly to the time the video was recorded everything happened nearly 30 minutes ago, that meant you were already at the hospital. He wouldn't just stay there and wait, he was going to see you, no matter what.

......

"We managed to stabilize them just in time, had they arrived a minute later I don't think we could have done anything" The doctor informed your parents, Shoto had run into them when he arrived to the hospital. Your mother had been hysteric while she was comforted by your father, until Todoroki arrived and she saw him, quickly embracing the boy in a tight grip and thanking him for coming to see you. Todoroki slowly embraced the older woman back.

That's when the doctor walked out of the room and gave a final explanation. Mentioning it would take a while for you to go back to normal, Recovery girl could help speed up the healing process, but you'd still need some time to rest before doing any physical effort.

"You may go inside to see them but I would suggest only two people should at a time"

It was a relief for everyone they moment the doctor mentioned you were already out of danger, Shoto and your parents nearly fell on the floor at the reassurance that everything would be alright.

He wanted to see you, he really wanted to...but seeing the look on your parent's faces...would it be selfish if he asked to see you first? It was like they knew what he was thinking because you mother smiled sweetly at him, the fear in her eyes long forgotten.

"You should see them first Shoto, we can go in later so don't worry about us" her words left him quiet for a minute, until he finally nodded gratefully before opening the door of your room. You were laying in bed in such a relaxed manner that if it wasn't for the bandages covering the right side of your face and the ones peaking out from the top of hospital gown it would seem like you were just taking a nap.

Silence filled the room except for the soft noise of your breathing, Todoroki quietly pulled a chair to sit besides the bed, he couldn't be thankful enough as he softly grabbed one of your hands and brought it closer to lay his face on the soft skin.

"Don't ever scare me like that again (Y/N)..." He didn't notice as your eyes slowly fluttered open or the way you looked at him with a confused expression.

"...Shoto...?"

It wasn't his imagination, was it? did he just hear you talk?

His face quickly turning up made him realize it was not a dream, there you were looking at him with a tired smile on your features, the hand he had been holding slowly caressed his cheek with a warm touch he just couldn't help but get addicted to.

"Hey...sorry I couldn't call you right away"

Todoroki couldn't help himself from leaning towards your touch with a broken laugh, even near the brink of death you still kept thinking about your promise.

"It's alright" He gripped the hand still caressing his cheek "All that matters is that you're safe"

That day he made a promise. He'd become a hero that would always be there to protect you. A hero that would keep everybody safe.

I hope you guys enjoy my first attempt on angst!

MASTERLIST

@t-amajiki @undead0relived @shoobirino @godtieruwu @bnha-ra @mysticalite

#bnha imagine #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha imagine #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #mha imagines #todoroki shoto x reader #Todoroki shoto #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha hcs #mha hcs #reader insert #tw:blood #tw: mention of drugs #tw: mentions of death #shouto todoroki

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mcheang · 5 years ago

Note

Ok crazy idea but, what if one day Max makes a lying detector machine ,for some reason, that went ever some one lies a buzzer goes of. So when ever he near Lila the buzzer goes of like crazy

Markov the lie-detector

I claim this as a draft!

Ever since his adventure with Startrain, Max had the idea of making Markov his superhero partner.

First he decided to modify Markov’s screen so he could identify temperatures from a distance.

Then he decided to turn Markov into a mini Baymax. He equipped Markov to identify what was wrong with the body, including the heart rate.

And of course, thinking about heart rate reminds Max of an Avatar episode where Toph uses the heartbeat to identify liars, only really good liars like Azura are able to bypass it.

As such, Max turns Markov into a lie-detector with more common sense. Markov can now double check any statement being made.

But to prevent the liars from suspecting anything, Markov sends the lying signal to Max’s phone in the form of a specific set of vibrations, set to a tune really.

So when Lila starts talking, Max’s phone is going off like mad. He recognizes the rhythm and opens his bag to double check with Markov.

Markov gives Max sad eyes, upset Lila is lying to them.

During lunch, Markov prints the list of how he knows Lila’s statements are false.

1. She displays wrong information about her disabilities

2. Her passport records state she never went to China

3. Prince Ali isn’t hosting a party at the present

4. Ladybug is specific about keeping identities secret. Why let people narrow down suspects to Lila’s friends?

5. Jagged Stone has been allergic to fur since he was a kid, way before Lila was born.

Max is hurt, and feels stupid for believing the napkin lie. He goes to Marinette and apologises for not believing in her.

He offers to help her expose Lila. Marinette wants to accept but admits she agreed to take the high road with Adrien.

Max points out that Lila’s lies are hurting people and if they don’t stop her now, her influence will only grow greater. And once the truth is found out, her pawns will only feel more hurt, making them more susceptible to akumas. They need to correct Lila if they want her to change.

Marinette wants to inform Adrien first. Adrien is agreeable once he realizes the flaws in his plans.

Markov confirms Adrien never meant to hurt his class.

They decide to expose Lila slowly and make a plan. Max boasts about his lie detector to his surrounding friends. He even sets the alarm on audio and lets them test it out.

Lila arrives then and asks what is going on.

Before Kim or Alix or Mylene, etc. can say anything, Max just states they’re playing a game. But enough about that, Max wants to ask how Lila’s planning party with Ali went.

Lila starts talking about it, but Markov immediately goes off. Markov informs everyone that Ali was currently doing something else.

Lila is annoyed before lying that it was for next month. Markov corrects her again.

Lila suggests they could have shifted their dates around. Markov corrects that her phone and laptop signals have never reached anyone in Achu.

Lila protests that that is an invasion of her privacy.

Adrien scoffs. “Like how you invited yourself to my house by lying? Like how you stole Kagami’s phone number?”

Some classmates are trying to break the tension. Maybe Markov was wrong, after all he can’t really be allowed access to that kind of stuff.

Sensing legal territory, Max conceded defeat.

Marinette cheerily asks why not Alya just interview Ladybug next time there is an akuma. She never did check with her before posting that interview.

Alya flushes guiltily at that.

Adrien even suggests to Chloe if Jagged has written a song about her. Chloe is up for humiliating that annoying, goody-goody braggart.

Lila is panicking. What to do? What to do?

Lila tries focusing on her anger but it’s hard to do that when her panic is distracting her.

Maybe it’s a good thing an akuma hasn’t come. Because let’s face it, Ladybug always wins.

When faced with exposure, Lila runs away. It’s what she did when she had feared Adrien would expose her. Imagine her pleasant surprise when he didn’t.

However, Lila’s plans to lie to her mother about the school being overtaken by akumas are thwarted when she is called to the office by the principal, where awaits Mrs Rossi.

Imagine Mrs Rossi’s surprise the previous day at work when the class president asked if she would be willing to educate the class on international diplomacy. After all, Lila had learned so much at Achu.

Mrs Rossi: But I’ve never been to Achu.

Marinette: Then where has Lila been all these months if not with you?

Mrs Rossi: The school had been closed down because of akumas.

Marinette laughs. “I know there have been akumas at our school, but the building has never been shut down because the akumas are stopped within the day. Didn’t you know that?”

Mrs Rossi can’t risk being made a fool of at work. She says nothing.

Marinette continues, “After all, your Daughter is such close friends with Ladybug, I thought you knew more about akumas than most adults.”

Mrs Rossi: My Daughter is what?

Thank you Alya for posting that interview online. Mrs Rossi can see for herself what Lila is telling her class and the whole world.

Mrs Rossi tells Marinette she will think about her request but she must get back to work (aka, research about akumas and discover that the principal had been akumatized for only one night. She is a gullible ignoramus. Mrs Rossi sets up an appointment tomorrow. She wants both parties present so Lila can’t lie and make excuses to them separately.

Lila is finally caught. Mrs Rossi forces her Daughter to confess the truth in front of the whole class.

Lila’s rage and humiliation finally calls an akuma but she is defeated again, and yes it is confirmed she is not Ladybug’s BFF.

Alya apologizes for being a hypocrite. She should have checked her sources and trusted Marinette.

The class keeps quiet about Markov’s new ability to fact check and Lila will just be accused of lying again.

On the bright side for Lila, she is suspended so she doesn’t have to face her class. On the downside, she is grounded and can’t leave the house. Not that she has anywhere to go once her Mother stops giving her allowance and confiscated her cellphone and computer, and her travel card hardly has any money left.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #lila gets exposed #lila karma #lila salt #ml salt fic #lila is exposed #lila bashing #post startrain

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squeeneyart · 4 years ago

Text

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 11

AO3

Beta read by @thesnadger!

Martin wants to do the right thing.

It's time to make some phone calls.

Martin resigned himself to a day of catch up. The recent circumstances hadn’t been the most conducive to completing his work tasks, but he was employed for the time being. He would wait for the right time to reopen the can of worms upstairs and in the meantime double down on the figures in front of him. The others went to work as well, going through the records they recovered from the library and verifying some information from the storage house.

After some time, he heard Sasha ask, “Martin? This place used to be a bigger fishing town, right? Before the Lukases showed up.”

Martin thought for a moment. “I don’t think it was that great to begin with? I’m sure they didn’t help, but the problem started long before I was born. There may be some people old enough to remember when things were a bit better, but it’s always been a shaky business despite the proximity to the sea.” He paused, then asked, “Is there a reason you’re looking into this? Doesn’t sound very ghost-related.”

Sasha tapped her pen on the table. “It helps to get a timeline of major events. Even if there are coincidences, a broader historical picture often helps with places where the phenomena are… far reaching.”

“What, did the lighthouse eat all the fish?” Martin laughed, but it quickly died as he continued to think about it. “...Could it do that?”

“Doubtful,” Jon said, keeping his eyes glued to his laptop. “It’s possible the family saw an existing, natural decline in job prospects and swooped in to create an even bigger vacuum they could then fill. Nothing supernatural, just horrid people finding a good opportunity.”

Tim snorted. “While they just so happened to buy and operate a possessed lighthouse?”

Jon looked over his screen. “People can have multiple motivations. For example, Peter Lukas apparently enjoys boating and taking the possessions of others for the fun of it. The two aren’t necessarily related.” His eyes dropped back to his task.

“Fair enough. Maybe someone in the family won it in a bet, then? Swiped it from some evil lighthouse keeper.” Tim wiggled his fingers.

Martin laughed silently through his nose and went back to work, assuming his part of the conversation was completed. If he’d learned anything from the situation earlier that morning, it was to quit before weird personal details about his deadbeat fisherman dad came out and ruined the mood.

The three continued to debate possible motivations and causes, eventually trailing off and lapsing into a focused silence. The scratches of pen on paper mingled with the tapping of the keyboard. It created an arrangement that echoed over itself in a round, filling the space and tunneling upward along the staircase. Despite himself, Martin strained to hear anything that felt out of place, but he could feel no intent in the repetition. It was loud, but it was the normal, unnerving loud he’d become accustomed to over the last few months.

There wouldn’t be anything, as long as he kept the dial in the correct position. Not anything he could perceive, anyway. Were they listening, even if they couldn’t stockpile his words? Were they seething at his decision? Were they-

Martin gritted his teeth, willing himself to focus on the page in front of him. The group would call Naomi soon, and if she responded they would be one step closer to confirming his suspicions. For the time being, he would sit with his churning insides and wait.

Relief came at eleven with his lunch hour, which the others were considerate enough to wait for. He barely tasted the sandwich he’d thrown together that morning. There was a heightened atmosphere spread across him and the others, a buzz of excitement. After hours of necessary but tedious paperwork and discussion, it was time again for action.

Sasha dialed the number and waited, drumming her fingers on a pad of paper in front of her. “Available number,” she mouthed, giving a thumbs up. A few seconds passed, and she frowned and ended the call. “But, of course, it is no longer her number. I would change mine too, if people were tailing me.”

They all slumped in their chairs and braced themselves for a long, slow afternoon as Sasha looked at her pad of paper and dialed the first number on the list of many, many Naomi Hernes.

Some answered with varying levels of politeness, mostly responding with “never heard of the place” or “the name doesn’t ring any bells”. Otherwise, she left a short, scripted voicemail giving little information other than Evan’s name in hopes that Naomi would take the bait. She kept their institute out of it entirely.

When asked why, Sasha explained that this part of the investigation would have to be off record. Evidently, the Magnus Institute encouraged thorough research until it involved digging into its own benefactors. Unless they discovered a lead that didn’t implicate the Lukas family, they would be on their own.

The minutes ticked on, dragging more and more with the lack of success. After thirty minutes of fruitless calls, Sasha said, “It may take a while. We don’t know her schedule or if she’s even on this list. I was able to go off her last recorded location, but that’s about it.” Sasha leaned back in her chair, stretching her shoulders.

Jon pulled his laptop back in front of him. “We’ll need to give her time. If she’s aware of the Lukases keeping tabs on her, she’ll probably be wary of us. Keep going through the list. Tim and I will continue with the rest.”

Martin sat around for the rest of his lunch hour, losing hope with each passing call. He ought to have considered how long it could take to reach her, or that she might not answer at all. Why would she? What reason did she really have to trust a bunch of strangers?

He looked down at his phone, mindlessly flipping between apps before settling on his notes. Under Naomi’s old number was the one for Evan’s mobile, locked safely away in the storage house. Running his thumb up and down the side of his phone, he peeked up at the others through his bangs.

“I know we’re waiting to hear back from Naomi, but-” They looked at him, and he swallowed hard. “We know who it probably is, right? We have something he would know, and we could even-”

“Sorry, Martin, but that’s a big ‘no’ from me,” Tim said, crossing his arms. “If it’s him, he can wait a bit longer. If it’s not, then there could be something bad on the other side that we’re not ready to deal with, something that might even pretend to be him given the opportunity.”

There was an edge to his voice that made Martin shrink sheepishly in his seat. Tim’s face grew soft. “You want to help. I get it, but we should play it safe for now. Once we’re certain of the situation, we’ll do the heroic thing and release his trapped soul or get him out of the sound booth he’s locked himself in or whatever it is that needs to be done.”

Martin nodded glumly and looked back at his phone. After a moment, a notification popped up on the screen.

Tim: and if we get him out and hes as hot as they say he was, then who knows ;)

All the tension in Martin’s shoulders was released with a high-pitched snicker that his hand failed to stifle. The other two turned their gazes on him. Martin’s ears turned beet red at the attention he’d brought upon himself. Jon shot a suspicious glance at Tim, whose broad smile denied nothing.

By twenty minutes to four, there had been no sign of the person they were hoping for, ignoring one response by someone who thought they were being hilarious. Martin had only one task remaining before it was time to leave, and once his things were carefully packed away he walked over to the stairs and placed a hand on the rail. From behind him came the sound of chairs squeaking against hard tile.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw the three had all risen from their seats and were shooting surprised looks at each other.

Martin sighed. “I’m just going up for my normal work stuff. I won’t be touching anything I’m not supposed to.” Not that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but if he’d wanted to do anything there in secret, which he didn’t, there was no point in doing so when other people in the building could hear every amplified word.

“Well, I’ll be coming up anyway. Might as well get a better look at what buttons you’re pressing.” Tim jogged over, waving a hand at the other two dismissively and calling over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Keep an ear on the phone and text us if something comes up.” Jon and Sasha, who’d clearly been about to walk over and join them, sat down despite their visible apprehension. Tim started up the stairs, leaving Martin to trail behind.

Before long, Tim began to rely more and more on the handrail to keep his balance. About halfway up the stairs, he held up a hand for Martin to stop and dropped his head.

“Okay,” he said, flexing his grip on the rail. He took a moment to breath. “Okay, I’m good. Damn this place, though.”

When they reached the top, Tim faced the stairs and, at a regular speaking volume, said, “Hello? Tim Stoker to Boss Man.” He waited, then checked his phone. “Huh. Guess sound does have limits in this place. Good to know.” Tim smiled at Martin. “Let’s see those switches, then.”

Martin could see that Tim’s eye was just as drawn to the dial as Martin’s as they approached the panel. Martin slowed down his process, taking care to show Tim what he was doing with the different buttons and knobs, and Tim seemed to be taking notes on his phone.

“If it would help, I have a list of everything I do up here on my desk. My handwriting isn’t the best, but it’s legible.” Martin continued to complete the steps without thinking, allowing muscle memory to take over. “Not that I’ve looked at it super recently. I also have the version in my work contract? But that would have to wait ‘til tomorrow.”

Tim nodded, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Sounds like a plan. Who knows, maybe there’s a hidden ‘I cede my right to file a claim against any injury due to imprisoned spirits’ clause or something in the fine print.” Martin laughed weakly but said nothing. Leaning on the side of the panel, Tim looked at him. “You really think it’s the guy? Evan?”

Martin’s finger slipped, missing a button entirely. “...Yeah. I can’t think of anything else it could be? And I get it, there are some things I don’t know about-”

“Lots of things, actually. Look,” Tim stood up straight, crossing his arms. “I’m not usually the lecturing type, but you seem like a well-meaning guy, and this thing could very well be taking that from your voice and turning it back on you.” There was an unmistakable discomfort, though Tim was doing his best to look authoritative. “You’re not used to this stuff, but most of it ends up being not so nice.”

Resuming his task, Martin looked down and asked, “Have you ever… studied something like that?”

From the corner of Martin’s eye, he could see Tim shift a bit and lean against the panel again. “They’re something I’ve worked on, yeah.”

After a final flip of a switch, Martin looked back at Tim whose gaze was firmly centered on the window. Martin rolled his fingertips on the surface of the panel. “Any personal experiences or advice? For my benefit?”

Tim took some time to think, and without taking his eyes from the window responded, “If you can shut them up, make sure they stay that way.” Tim let out a breath through his nose. “And if someone’s got by one, chances are they won’t be kept alive. Once a copy is made, there’s no reason to keep the original.”

The bitter twinge in Tim’s voice warned against the questions forming on the tip of Martin’s tongue. If Tim was talking from experience, the specifics were none of Martin’s business.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Tim shook his head. “So, since I was the one who turned the dial, do me a favor and keep away from it?” When Martin nodded in agreement, Tim uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the panel. “Good. It’s a deal then. Now, when we get back down, we can pretend to have had a riveting talk about how fish hate your town.”

Once they were back on the main floor, disappointment washed over Martin. “Was it too much to expect anything back so soon?” He looked through his bag, making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.

“You get used to it.” Sasha paused from collecting some papers to watch him sulk in his corner. “Can’t tell you how many follow-up calls I’ve made that led to nothing.”

“Or all the numbers we’ve gotten that were for takeout places,” Jon grumbled.

“I dunno, I’ve been pretty lucky with numbers.” Tim winked at Sasha, who shoved some of the papers into his arms.

Martin smiled, though Tim’s comment reeked of forced levity. He zipped up his bag and walked to the door. “Let me know if anything comes up?”

“Of course.” Jon pushed himself out of his chair and walked at a brisk pace to meet him. “Could I have a word with you, before you head home?” He opened the door and gestured outside.

“Oh. Sure?” He avoided Tim’s very pointed eye contact and walked through the door. Jon followed behind with his arms wrapped around himself, his thin, long-sleeved shirt doing nothing for him in the cold. “Do you need to-”

“I’ll be back inside in a moment.” His stubbornness did nothing to protect him from the shivers. “About tonight.”

With all excitement and distraction gone, the weight that had been balancing precariously in Martin’s chest dropped to his stomach like a lead ball. “Is there a way to make this not horrible?”

Jon frowned. “I don’t know the full circumstances, but ultimately, I believe you’ll be doing the right thing.” He placed a tentative hand on Martin’s shoulder and gave it a stiff pat. He immediately retracted his hand and wrapped it back around himself, keeping his eyes on anything but Martin. “You know her better than I do. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

Martin clung to that confidence and the feeling of pressure from Jon’s hand. “Okay...” He took a large breath. “Okay. I should get going then. No point in putting it off.”

Jon nodded his head and hurried back inside, leaving Martin to walk home with more courage than he’d managed to gather for himself. As the sun drifted closer to its exit, Martin latched onto that little encouragement and thought of what to say.

“Hi, Mum. I found your skin? No, that sounds weird-”

“I know there are things I don’t understand, but-”

“Mum, I found this in the attic. I know it’s yours. Do you want to-”

“A guy from work said to give you this? Wait, no-”

And so he continued, muttering under his breath all the ways he could broach the subject without it being a complete disaster.

This could change things.

Would she scream? He’d never heard her truly scream. It wasn’t her way, but this could unlock something so much worse than he’d known. How dare he bring this to her if she’d hidden it for a good reason? That seemed a likely reaction.

Would she talk to him about her time in the water? Would she reminisce about a time before things went wrong, when he would watch her from the porch? Too hopeful to consider, but nice to think about.

Perhaps she would tell him to return it to the attic, and it would never be spoken of again. Things would be as they always were, just with a new secret to hang over them both. Another weight on their shoulders, another little barrier keeping them from being anything but what they had been for decades now.

Jon had said it would be the right thing to do. He would know about these things more than Martin, right? His word had to be worth something. No matter how she might react, this had to happen sooner or later.

The walk home sped past like nothing. The front door was before him, and then closed behind, and he felt more than ever like he was on a track, being moved from place to place without any consultation of his will. The night proceeded like clockwork, dinner prepared and completed with only his voice and the occasional terse response from his mother for filler noise. It wasn’t yet time.

The fog had rolled in thick as evening turned to night, and they looked out into it from the front porch, her breaths steady and bracing. Through his barely open eyes, Martin saw a hint of rolling waves before the salt brought out the tears and washed away his vision.

He walked his mother back inside and helped her prepare for bed. Once she was settled against the headboard, Martin coughed and began in a low, gentle tone. “Mum. Can I talk to you about something?”

She frowned, tired contempt rippling across her face. “Must you now? You’ve had all night to talk.”

Martin clenched and unclenched his teeth. “It’s important. Please, it’s...it’s about something I found in the attic.”

His mother froze, her hand gripping the quilt on her lap. Annoyance gave way to a wide, blank stare that brushed just over his shoulder. “I did not ask you to retrieve anything from there.”

Martin shrank back. “Yes, I know. I just went up to make sure there hadn’t been a-any issues with the roof after some of the rain recently since we keep some things in storage up there, and I wanted t-”

“Bring it to me. Now.” Her voice was quiet, almost too quiet for him to hear.

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Martin stood too quickly, grabbing the rickety bedside table for balance and causing a loud thump as one of its legs slammed into the ground. The dim lamp on top of it wobbled, creating unnerving shadows on the walls. He winced. “Sorry. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room and let himself breathe. Okay, he thought, this was a good thing. He walked up the stairs two at a time with his long legs, speeding down the hall while keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible. She wanted him to bring it to her. He would do as she ordered. Everything would be okay, he told himself, ignoring the strange sinking feeling in his gut.

It was where he’d left it, folded loosely in the corner to avoid any possible creasing. It pressed heavily into his hands, and he brushed off a little more dust as he walked back down the stairs. At his mother’s door, he paused and adjusted it one more time to a position he felt was the most dignified. Then, he entered the room.

She was looking out her window, through the misted glass and into the fog that surrounded their home. Her hands were limp over the quilt, one placed gently on top of the other. When the door clicked shut behind him, there was an almost imperceptible turn of her head, though he couldn’t see anything but her clenched jaw.

“Mum? I’ve brought it. Do you want me to place it on the bed? I-”

His mother turned to face him fully, and as her eyes locked onto him a torrent of pure fury slammed into his chest. He stumbled, the selkie skin almost escaping his large, clumsy hands.

“Give it to me.” Her rasping voice made Martin’s throat hurt, and her neck seemed to throb with effort. When he failed to move his legs, she forced out, “now, you stupid man!”

He tripped forward, and when he was within reach she snatched the skin from him. She clasped it to her chest just as Jon had that morning, with the same smoothing motion over its surface. Unsure of what to say, he became a statue. Every muffled intake of air burned down into his chest.

Taking in a shuddering breath, his mother whispered, “Leave.”

“What?” There was a painful crack in his voice.

“Leave me alone.”

The only thing he could see were his own near-faded footsteps as he climbed up the cliff side, the fog doing well to obscure the surrounding foliage.

He needed to be out of the damned fog. That’s why he’d fled the house, and the beach, and the crashing waves. That’s all it was down there, a house adrift in grey nothing, and he was too loud of a presence to truly give her solitude with his tramping feet on the floorboards upstairs.

It was past sundown when he reached the end of his climb, and the corner lights looked as much as they had the night before. As they had on any other night he’d spent wandering the dark, emptying streets. Pulling his coat more tightly around himself, Martin marched forward, drawn to the only other place to which he had a key.

He looked up before he could think too hard about it, and the sky bore down on him until all he could do was fall back into the gaping pit waiting just behind his heel. Had it felt like this before? Yes, it had, hadn’t it? A giant emptiness in the ground waiting to swallow him whole, and as he had seen it, so from it the vertigo had come. Only now it was polite enough to slow down and let him see the horror below.

He woke up on the ground with a groan, just outside of the florist shop. It was closed for the night, and there was no one inside or out to stare as he lifted himself out of a puddle, the arm of his coat soaked through with water. He was halfway through trying to regain some semblance of focus when he realized his glasses had fallen from his nose and were now lying on the ground beside him.

Relieved that his impaired vision was no worse than usual, he reached over to pick up his glasses. As he did so, he glimpsed at the water’s surface, and for just a moment the blurry vision of his face looked just enough like someone else. He gasped, snatching his glasses and scrambling to sit on the curb.

She’d never called Martin that. She’d had other ways of showing her frustration with him, but that… that had been for someone else. Of course. He hadn’t even thought to warn her of his re-entry, so he had gone into her room and with just that lamp by her bed the doorway must’ve been so dark-

The pounding in his head grew more fervent, and he curled into himself until he faced the ground, head between his knees. As the minutes crawled by, the pain began to subside, and eventually he was able to stand, even if there was a slight shake to his legs.

“Twenty years and still you don’t learn.”

He continued without reason, thankful for the empty road ahead, his arm going cold in its dripping sleeve.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #fanfic #au fanfic #selkie au #jonmartin

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winchester-fantasies · 5 years ago

Text

90 Days - Part Five: Light

90 Days Masterlist

Mini-Series Summary: You’ve been hit by a curse. Now you only have 90 days to live. Sam and Dean race to find a cure while secrets are revealed and feelings are discovered in the process.

Word Count: 2197

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, light angst, mentions of attempted suicide

Pairing: Sam x Female!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for coming with me on this journey! This whole series has been an emotional roller coaster and it ripped my heart out (no pun intended lol) more often than not. It’s bittersweet posting this last part, and I hope you like it as much as I do. ❤❤

Winchester Fantansies’ Masterlist

“Sam!” you gasped. He sat up with a start, his eyes wide with panic.

“Sam,” you said again, this time quiet and unbelieving. “How am I not dead?”

He stared at you for a moment as if not really believing you were actually there. But in the next instant he seemed to come out of his trance. “I...I don’t know,” he stammered, swallowing hard. “I think maybe I should call Dean.”

You nodded as Sam climbed out of bed, quickly pulling on his jeans and grabbing his cellphone from the table by the bed. He pulled up Dean’s contact and pressed the call button. He glanced over to you before quietly exiting the room. You could just make out his muffled voice as Dean answered and the soft opening and closing of the front door.

You ran your fingers through your tangled hair and held you head in your hands. You didn’t understand what had happened. Just a few weeks before you’d nearly died just from kissing Sam. But somehow you were still alive after making love to him. You thought you understood this curse and everything it carried, but now you weren’t so sure.

After what seemed like an eternity Sam finally returned. His face was unreadable as he took up his duffle, stuffing his clothes and the few necessities he’d brought into it. “We need to go back to the bunker,” he said.

“What?” you asked.

He stopped what he was doing to turn and look at you. “We need to go back to the bunker,” he repeated. “Dean hasn’t made any headway and was just as surprised as us when...uh...when I told him what happened or what...didn’t.” He looked to the ground for a moment as if embarrassed, your own cheeks flushing pink at his words.

“He’s going to have both Cas and Rowena come to the bunker, too,” Sam said.

You nodded, throwing the blankets off and going over to your duffle sitting by the closet door. You set it on the edge of the bed before gathering the few things you’d taken out. You haphazardly stuffed your clothes into the bag, your mind racing. You finally had to stop, the knot in your stomach too tight to ignore.

You turned towards Sam just as he zipped up his bag. “Sam,” you said so quietly your voice barely reached your own ears. Sam didn’t seem to hear you as he went over to the table and stuffed his wallet and keys into his pockets.

“Sam,” you said again, this time louder, your voice coming out choked. He stopped and turned to look at you, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you whispered. It was ironic. You’d lived with this curse looming over you, the constant fear of death a grim companion. And while you had been frightened, you knew how it ended if Sam and Dean didn’t find a cure. You’d made peace with it. But now that it was gone…. The fear was palpable.

Sam’s eyes were soft as he walked around the bed, coming to stand in front of you. He drew you into his strong arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “I am, too,” he admitted softly. “But I promise you,” he said, pulling back to meet your gaze. “As long as you’re with me, nothing is going to happen. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

He leaned down, his lips pressing to yours in a tender kiss. You melted into his embrace, letting his strength and words envelope you in security. He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone when he pulled away. “I love you,” he breathed.

You smiled, placing a soft kiss to his still bare chest. “I love you, too.”

**********

You and Sam drove back to the bunker, Sam pushing the speed limit as far as he could. You reached the bunker in record time, only stopping for a few hours at a rest stop so Sam could get a little shut eye before hitting the road once more. You reached the bunker by nightfall the following day.

You looked up at the giant stone fortress as you stepped out of the vehicle, a sense of calm falling over you. You’d never been so glad to be home as you were at that very moment.

You and Sam entered the bunker, the silence welcoming as you walked down the metal stairs to the main floor of the building. You set your duffle down on the map table before making your way to the library, finding Dean at one of the tables, books, manuscripts, and various other documents strewn across the table.

He looked up from what he was reading on his laptop, his green eyes lighting up when he saw you. His grin was wide as he scooted back from the table, coming over to you and wrapping you in a warm hug. “I’m okay, Dean,” you said, hugging him back tightly. You were surprised to find his eyes were slightly misty once he pulled away, and you noticed dark circles sitting under them. Your danger had weighed heavier than you realized on him, and you knew he’d spent countless hours trying to find a way to save you.

“Glad you’re home,” he said simply before sniffing and going back to his place.

**********

“Find anything?” Sam asked, sitting himself down beside you and handing you one of the beers he’d gone to the kitchen to retrieve. You smiled your thanks before turning back to Dean across from you.

“Nope,” Dean said gruffly, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. “But Rowena should be here soon. Says she might have found something.”

Your stomach flipped at the thought of finally having some answers. As if sensing your nervous anxiousness, Sam reached under the table, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers together. He gave your hand a squeeze and sent you a soft smile of reassurance before turning his focus back on his brother.

“Have you heard from Cas?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

“Does he have any theories?” you finally spoke.

Dean looked up at you as if just realizing you were there, like he’d forgotten you were okay. “Didn’t say so,” he said. “If Rowena doesn’t know maybe he can...read your mind or something. Ya know. Work his angel mojo.”

You smiled softly. “Yeah, maybe so,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek thoughtfully.

“Hey,” Sam murmured, squeezing your hand again. You looked over at him, his eyes soft. “Don’t worry,” he reassured you once more. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“I know,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand in return.

Just then there was a knock at the bunker door. Dean went to answer it, returning with Rowena a few moments later. “Hello, dears,” she greeted with a smirk.

“Hey, Rowena,” Sam said, you sending her a tight-lipped smile.

She set a large black bag on the library table before turning her gaze to you, her expression softening. “You poor dear,” she said sympathetically.

“So what’s your theory?” Sam asked impatiently.

Rowena sent him a smile that barely masked her annoyance. “Patience, Samuel,” she said. “This is very ancient, very powerful magic. To rush any of it would be foolish.”

Sam’s jaw clenched and his grip on your hand tightened, but he didn’t argue further. “Now,” she said, turning her attention back to you. “Tell me exactly what happened while you were at the cabin and what led you to believe the curse broke.”

You proceeded to tell her everything that had happened, starting with Sam and Dean leaving, your attempted suicide, Sam’s kiss and your subsequent episode because of it, and ending with you and Sam making love and realizing you weren’t dead. Rowena stood staring at you thoughtfully once you’d finished recounting.

“Very strange…” she murmured. “I would have thought….” She trailed off, shaking her head in confusion before opening the bag in front of her and digging through it.

Your stomach clenched at her tone, and you leaned forward. “Would have thought what?” you asked nervously.

“Oh, nothing,” Rowena said vaguely, brushing off your question.

“No!” you snapped, causing her to jump and Sam to look at you with wide eyes. “Tell me!”

“Very well,” she said with a thin-lipped smile. “It’s just…. Did either of you….”

She was abruptly cut off by the sound of fluttering wings as Cas flew into the library. “Hello, Sam, Dean,” he said. “Rowena,” he greeted rigidly.

“Castiel,” the witch said with a soft smile and tip of her head.

“(Y/N),” Cas said, coming over to you. You stood just as he pulled you into his strong arms. “I’m glad you’re okay. Dean told me everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”

“It’s alright, Cas,” you said, giving him a smile after you’d pulled away. “I’m just glad to be alive.” Cas frowned before he placed a palm over your brow, closing his eyes while a soft, white light illuminated your skin.

“The curse is indeed gone,” Cas said. “And...it broke...quite suddenly.”

“But...what does that mean then?” you asked. “And...and how?”

“As I was saying,” Rowena interjected. “Did either of you, at any point after your episode in the kitchen, profess...your love?”

You and Sam locked gazes, silently questioning one another and going back over the events after that episode. “I...don’t think so,” Sam said slowly.

“No, wait,” you said thoughtfully. All eyes were on you as you carefully contemplated what you were going to say next. “After the episode…. Sam, you told me you loved me and that you’d wait for as long as you needed, to be with me.”

Sam’s eyes lit up in recognition and he nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “And then...uh, when...when we….” He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “Well, you know. You said you loved me, too.”

You smiled softly at the memory, so heavy, but yet so full of emotion, even now that the curse was gone. “That’s right,” you said. You turned back to Rowena, looking at her expectantly.

She was smiling as if she held a great secret. “It’s just as I thought,” she said. “You see there was a witch, one of the very first. Very powerful - even more powerful than me,” she chuckled. “Anyway, she loved a man, but when she professed her love, he rejected her.

“Out of spite, she created this curse - a curse of love. If he could find someone he loved, and they reciprocated his love in the span of ninety days, then the curse would be broken. If not, then his heart would quite literally break. Well, he was a very brash and hateful man, and even his own mother didn’t love him. He was found three months later on the floor of his home, a hole in his chest, his heart lying beside him.”

You swallowed hard at the thought that that could have been you if the curse hadn’t been broken. You were brought out of your thoughts as Rowena continued.

“The curse was never used by other witches not only because it was lost to time, only a few copies remaining but also because it was unreadable. You see, the witch used her own language, only putting the phrases ‘ninety days’ and ‘life force ceasing’ in Latin. Which makes me believe that the witch you killed in the factory was none other than the witch herself.”

Your eyes widened at the revelation, and Dean let out a low whistle. “Wow,” Sam breathed. “So...when (Y/N) and I professed our love….”

“It broke the curse,” you said, finishing Sam’s sentence.

“Precisely,” Rowena said. “It’s really the perfect curse for hunters. Always so lovelorn and alone,” she said wistfully. “However, she didn’t count on the love of Sam Winchester.”

**********

Later that night you laid in your bed with Sam, your bodies pressed together and your legs intertwined. “I can’t believe I’m actually still here,” you said in near disbelief as you lightly played with the hair on his bare chest.

Sam took a deep breath as his grip on you tightened. “Neither can I, actually,” he said, brushing his fingers over your side, feather light. “But I’m glad you are.”

“I am, too,” you said, turning your head and softly kissing his chest. “Thank you for everything,” you whispered. “You literally saved my life.”

A low chuckle escaped him, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. “How could I not?” he asked, turning his head to look at you. “You are my heart after all.”

You smiled, leaning up to place your lips gently against his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth. You felt him smile before he rolled you over, caging you in between his firm body and the mattress.

“I love you, too,” he said, reverently brushing a strand of hair off your brow before leaning down and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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90 Days:

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#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester angst #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fluff #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction series #90 days

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ninetalees · 5 years ago

Text

Sufferance

(noun) the absence of objection rather than genuine approval; toleration.

7 years after the events of Sword/Shield, Gym Leader Bede comes to Postwick to conduct some research in the Slumbering Weald; Hop is his unwilling companion.

Warnings for: Eventual Hop x Bede (cheeryfairyshipping) and eventual M-rated content.

Chapter 1

Hop couldn't concentrate today.

It might have been the pleasant spring sun, filtering in through the window and bouncing off the laminated pages he was pursuing, compelling him to turn his attention to the window. The heat and the amusing scene of the frolicking Wooloo in the fields did a fine job of keeping his attention on anything but his work.

It also might have been the anticipation. Every now and then his gaze flickered to the clock on the wall. Gloria had a match today - only an exhibition one - but Hop always exulted in the prospect of watching her live. It was now 12:45 - the matches were due to start at 1 - he would take his lunch then and sit out in the grass in front of the lab to watch on his laptop.

He got up from his chair and shielded his eyes to peer at Sonia rifling through the shelves on the balcony above. Her back was to him and her humming as she concentrated was a soothing and familiar melody. It was hard to believe it had been 7 years since he had started working with her; they had fallen into a comfortable synchronicity so quickly there had barely been an adjustment period, and it was very early on in their professional relationship that Hop had felt he had been there forever.

"Sonia?" he called. Sonia's red ponytail bobbed as she snapped to attention, and she stood to come and peer over the railing at him.

"Hey Hop," she replied with a smile. "Everything alright?"

Hop grinned back. "Grand." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I was just letting you know I'm gonna take lunch in a few? Gloria has a tournament starting at 1 and I don't want to miss it - if I'm not there to take a call at the end and discuss every single detail she'll go spare." His grin widened at the memory of once having missed a tournament because himself and Sonia were out in the Wild Area on a work project. There was no signal out there, and Hop had forgotten to tell Gloria he would be away (of course he had the tournament recording for his return.) He had come back to Wedgehurst with 5 missed calls, several texts, and a disgruntled selfie asking whether he had died.

"Oh, wonderful! She has matches today?" Sonia threw up her hands in jubilation; to Hop's immense relief, she was not holding a book. "I would love to watch, too. It's been ages since I've settled in to watch a tournament and Nessa is always griping I never get round to watching any of her matches." Her smile became coy. "What do you say to taking an extended break and watching on a laptop in the garden? I can make some ice tea."

Hop nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds like a plan! I'll get the stream up and running." Sonia, to many people's surprise, had never had to be strict with Hop. Despite his reputation for impulsiveness and general air of chaos, he was focused and determined about things he had a passion for. Studiousness and discipline were two traits integral to a successful Pokémon Professor and not ones Hop was famed for, but he had proved himself with his diligence from the start. Hop did not always follow a straight line from A to B, but even with his many stops and detours along the way he almost always managed to produce work to a high standard. But Sonia had known this long before the day she had asked him to come on board as her assistant.

Hop grabbed his laptop from the gleaming countertop and made his way outside with a skip in his step, pausing only to pet Yamper who had weaved excitedly between his legs. It was difficult not to be in a good mood: the sun was shining, work was not too busy for him to steal some downtime, and he was about to settle in for an afternoon of quality battles. Even if he did not do so much of it himself anymore, his interest had not been quelled in the slightest. Watching Gloria on the field was poetry in motion, and a fantastic learning opportunity – watching her direct her partners was a fully immersive lesson in how to draw out Pokémon’s full potential via flawless strategy and iron-clad bonds of trust. Hop set the laptop down on the garden table out back and opened the umbrella before settling down to bring up the livestream of the tournament. Sonia emerged a couple of minutes later, balancing a tray carrying a jug of peach ice tea and two glasses. Yamper trotted after her obediently, careful to avoid getting in the way. Once she had set the tray down and taken her seat, Yamper leapt into her lap as Sonia laughingly scratched behind her ears. “Learned your lesson after years of close calls involving mugs of tea, eh?” she cooed, and Yamper barked happily while Hop chuckled. “You’re not the only one, Yamper. Only recently, despite years of having being told, have I discovered the true perils of running indoors, especially in a tea-laden Sonia’s vicinity.”

They both laughed, then, and Sonia poured the ice tea as Hop hit play. The announcer’s voice crackled and boomed over the laptop speakers, and Hop felt the familiar adrenalin rush course through him as the camera panned over the pitch. There were not many big names in the tournament today – just Gloria, Nessa and some random challengers. Gloria would make short work of them all, Hop had no doubt. Although he didn’t dare comment as such in front of Sonia.

First up were two of the random challengers – young woman and an older gentleman. Hop and Sonia mostly chatted among themselves for the span of that battle, Yamper interjecting occasionally to demand one of the treats hidden in Sonia’s pockets. Hop watched from the corner of his eye as the young woman’s Manectric decimated the opponent’s Blastoise with a wicked Thunderbolt. “Solid,” he remarked, and Sonia looked up from checking her phone. “Mhmm,” she replied, sipping some ice tea. “Who’s up next?”

“Gloria and a challenger.” As he spoke, Hop had gotten out his own phone to shoot Gloria a quick ‘good luck’ text – not that she would need it, or even see it until the tournament was over. But, still – he wanted her to know he was thinking of her.

Gloria strolled out on the pitch as her number, 37, flashed up on the huge monitor behind her. Despite an occasional wave and smile to the roaring crowd her gaze was set ahead, eyes gleaming with steely determination. It had been 7 years since she had taken Leon’s place as Champion, but Hop had never quite gotten over the scale of the difference between them as battlers, both in style and presence on the pitch. Leon had been so flashy, posing and swishing his cape and blowing kisses, hamming it to the max. Gloria, regardless of who her opponent was, always stepped up with an air of aloofness to the crowd, her attention solely on the match before her. Hop always wondered if Rose’s presence and lack thereof during Gloria's reign had anything to do with that, but Leon never brought him up. So Hop never asked.

He was pulled away from his thoughts by Sonia clapping excitedly as Gloria let out Saber, her Haxorus, to face her opponent’s Beartic. The camera panned over the man’s face for a moment and Hop noted the traces of a smug smile on his face. From the perspective of an untrained eye, it might look as though he had an advantage from a type matchup perspective. But Hop knew better – Gloria would make short work of him and not have to withdraw a single Pokémon.

Indeed, Saber demolished the Beartic with a single, well-aimed Close Combat move and the rest of the match flew by in a similar fashion. Hop couldn’t help but smile at Sonia’s rapt attention, her eyes fixed on the screen as she petted Yamper absentmindedly. It was easy to forget that Sonia had once been a fine battler, a rival even to Leon – Hop always meant to ask her if she ever missed it.

Gloria withdrew Saber and bowed with a flourish as the match ended. She crossed the field to shake her crestfallen opponent’s hand, and that was the last they saw before the pitch darkened again in preparation for the next battle. Sonia leaned back as the ad break started, her eyes shining. “My gosh, that was thrilling!” she remarked. “I really do need to try and watch these more often – that poor fellow couldn’t get a move in edgeways!”

“That’s Gloria,” replied Hop happily. He took a gulp of ice tea, as though it had just been him out working up a sweat. “She’s in a league of her own. The more I watch her, the more vindicated I feel in not being able to match her in battle – can definitely see her holding the title even longer than Leon did!” There was a smile on his face as he spoke, but Sonia’s gaze became slightly pitying. “Don’t say that.” She cast her eyes down to Yamper, who was now dozing. “About yourself, I mean. Being good with Pokémon isn’t all about battling.”

Hop fought the urge to scowl. “I know that.” Even after all this time, people seemed so delicate around in him relation to Gloria and her success. Gloria was his best friend, and he had let go the dream of defeating Leon and becoming Champion a long time ago. He knew Sonia didn’t appreciate when he was self-deprecating – because, she said, she valued his input and effort so much here with her. But it annoyed Hop that people seemed to think they would hurt his feelings if they joked about it with him: he wanted so badly to be rid of that legacy of being second-best to Gloria in the Gym Challenge. He walked a different path, now, one less glitzy but fulfilling and important all the same. They were silent as the show returned and the commentator announced Nessa and another challenger were up to bat. Hop’s temporary irritation dissipated as he watched Sonia zap to attention. Nessa was her best friend – Hop suspected she might be more. As he spent most of his days with Sonia, he was privy to details of her life that many others were not: even then, he wasn’t completely sure. But he knew what he saw. He observed them together whenever Nessa came to visit, or whenever Sonia returned from hanging out with her. She always spent the rest of the evening with cheeks flushed with happiness, texting constantly. It was nice to see.

Nessa defeated the challenger with ease, and before long it was the final.

Any air of disquiet that might have remained between them dissipated entirely when the commentator announced it would be Nessa and Gloria facing off in the final round. Hop leaned forward in his chair, near vibrating with excitement. Sonia, too, was tensed eagerly as both combatants waved to the camera with the assured ease of those used to the eyes of the world being upon them. They crossed to the centre of the pitch to shake hands, keeping in line with the finalists’ tradition, then turned to take their places as the commentator announced the match was about to begin.

As Hop had predicted, it didn’t take long. Nessa was a fine trainer indeed, but still, like all of them, was nowhere near Gloria’s level. Gloria was well-prepared with her Bolthund, Lassie, and took down Nessa’s team with one well-aimed electric attack after another. Lassie moved as though she were an extension of Gloria herself, striking with precision in time with each of Gloria’s commands. Sonia raised a hand to cover her mouth as Nessa’s dynamaxed Drednaw came down in an explosion of light, and Gloria and Lassie celebrated in its wake.

“Ohhh,” the sound escaped Sonia in a long exhale. “Poor Nessa.” She shook her head. “I suppose we can’t be surprised though really, can we?” She chuckled. “Wow. I really enjoyed that! Be sure to wrangle me in next time there’s another tournament on. Nessa would be incredibly chuffed if I got into watching her matches more.”

“Would be my pleasure,” Hop replied cheerily. It had been fun to watch with Sonia – perhaps a few more matches and she would open up about her past rivalry with Leon. He would have loved to see her measured, cerebral approach applied on the battlefield. He stood, fingering his phone in his pocket, and Sonia grinned at him. “Off to make a call?” she asked.

“If you don’t mind.” His eyes drifted to watch the screen go dark as the commentator was signing off. “Need to get to unpacking what we’ve just seen, the usual.”

Sonia nodded and stood with her slumbering Yamper clasped to her chest. “Of course.” She turned back towards the back door that was, thankfully, slightly ajar. “Send my best!”

“Always do,” Hop shot back, already turning to dial. He strolled over to the back wall and leaned over it, arm dangling over the side. Gloria answered on the second ring, breathless and slightly echoey in the changing room. “Hop!” she cried. “Thanks for the text!”

Hop laughed quietly. “You’re welcome. Not like you needed it.” He turned his eyes towards the sky. “Great match! The last one especially – Nessa’s going to have to employ more than a half-ground type as her wildcard to get anywhere near you.”

“Ah, she’s amazing.” Hop could picture clearly the self-effacing wave of her hand. “It’s always a pleasure to battle her. All the leaders have their own quirks and eccentricities – the fun is in figuring them out and how to get round them.”

Hop nodded. “Yeah,” he said, when he realised she couldn’t see that. “Like a puzzle. You’d think I’d have been better at it.” They both laughed, and Hop felt himself relax. It was so easy with her.

“Anyway,” she continued. “We’ll be getting in at around 8:30 – you’ll be there to meet us, won’t you?”

Hop froze. “Meet you? Where? Who’s we?” he asked.

There was a long pause at the other end of the line. “Um, myself and Bede? At the station?” She ventured at last. “We’ll be in Postwick tonight?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Hop took the phone away from his ear to speak directly into the microphone on the top. “What are you on about?”

“Oh wow.” Gloria cleared her throat. “Uh, okay – I figured you already knew, because Bede got onto Sonia first? But he’s coming to our neck of the woods to do some study about Fairy-types in the Slumbering Weald for a month or so, and he asked Sonia to help out with resources and stuff? He got in touch a couple of weeks ago.”

Hop was stunned into silence for a long moment, head spinning. Bede, here? In Postwick – in the Slumbering Weald himself and Gloria held so dear? His relationship with the fellow was complicated; they had managed to leave the past behind them to the extent that Hop didn’t pull a face at the mere sight of him anymore. Bede and Gloria were close friends – or as close as one could be to Bede – and so Hop often ended up spending more time with him than he ever would have of his own volition by association. Hop could manage that; could manage having a drink with him in a group of three or four and not going for the jugular when he said something arrogant or disparaging. He didn’t know if he could manage weeks with him one-on-one, watching him traipse around his hometown and poking into the secrets of the Slumbering Weald.

“Hop?” he was startled back to reality by Gloria, sounding a little concerned now. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you, like I said it’s something I assumed Sonia would have mentioned and it just never came up. He’s staying with my mum – we have a spare room and she’s always delighted to have company, so it’s not like he’ll be hanging around Wedgehurst in the evenings or anything.” Luckily, Hop no longer lived with his mother in Postwick; while he worked only just up the road from his childhood home, at 21 and with a full-time job it seemed about time he found a place of his own. He rented a one-bedroom apartment above the now-closed boutique in Wedgehurst. The previous owner had been the little old lady who had also run the shop; when she had grown too frail to live alone she had moved out to live with her daughter in Motostoke. The family had been happy to rent her previous lodgings to Hop at a reasonable price, him being a local they had known for years. The apartment was small, with only two rooms - a living room-cum-kitchen and a bedroom - and somewhat old-fashioned, with a deep red shag carpet and wooden panelling in the front room, but Hop loved the place. He had made it his own, with his faded Pokémon League posters on the walls and Wooloo-patterned bedding on the rickety single bed. It was home.

“Hop?” Gloria asked again, and Hop shook his head. He could be professional about this – if Bede was coming to study the Slumbering Weald, this was work for him. As long as they didn’t stray too far outside that scope they would be alright. He could do it, for Gloria and for Sonia.

“Sorry, sorry Gloria,” he replied at last, pressing a hand to his forehead. “It’s fine. Was just a bit taken by surprise, that’s all.” He sighed. “Look, I can’t say I’m thrilled at the prospect but it’s my job to be civil and help him out, isn’t it? Would be a pretty pants professor if I refused to lend a hand to someone in furthering their knowledge just because they got on my tits a bit, wouldn’t I?” His smile returned as he spoke. Honestly, Bede’s topic of study sounded pretty interesting; he was sure they would have plenty to discuss around it and would have no reason resort to petty squabbling as long as they both remembered why they were there.

“Oh, Hop, thank you.” He could picture her shoulders sagging with relief. “You are the best professor ever.”

“Professor’s assistant, at least for now,” he corrected with a small laugh. “You don’t need to thank me, Gloria. I’ll behave myself provided Bede does too.”

“Oh, stop it. Of course he will. He’s a nice guy, you should give him more of a chance.” Hop opened his mouth, his lips forming the shape of a snarled retort, only to sigh instead. No point getting off on the wrong foot with this. “Sure,” he responded at last. “Anyway, what’s the plan tonight?”

“Well, we’ll be getting into Wedgehurst at around 8:30,” Gloria replied. “Then I said I would cook dinner at my place? Mum is away until tomorrow – using a package deal I got as a thank you for an endorsement from the Rose Hotel – so I’m going to crash at home with Bede and then head out early in the morning. He’s going to get up with me and head out to the lab to meet with you and Sonia to discuss what he wants to do.” She paused, allowing that to sink in. “Sorry I can’t stick around longer. Busy, busy.”

“Nah, sure what would you be doing? I get it.” He had to smile at her apologetic tone – he knew if she could stay and supervise to ensure they made an effort to get along, she absolutely would. Hop knew she would love if he and Bede were to become friends – perhaps this was fate.

“Anyway,” Gloria broke the silence, obviously aware Hop had drifted into his own thoughts again. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Hop replied. “See you tonight.”

***

The sun was just beginning to set when Hop headed out to the station. It was always a breathtaking sight, the rolling hills of Wedgehurst and Postwick dark blotches against the majesty of the glowing pink-orange sky. Hop paused to observe it, hands jammed in his pockets. He shivered against the cool evening breeze, rocking back on his heels. Just down the hill he could see the neon lights of the station glowing ominously. He pulled out his phone to check the time – 20:24. No point being late, he would only be delaying the inevitable and invoking Gloria’s wrath; the station was literally a 3 minute walk from his home, he had no excuse. He had even gotten off from work early – he suspected Sonia felt guilty for forgetting that his former nemesis would be around town for a few weeks starting tomorrow. She had been so flustered when he had told her. She had been so busy when he had called, she’d said, and once the conversation had finished her promise had gone right out of head. Hop had been magnanimous: he had had time to accept that it was happening and there was nothing that could be done. He was determined to be mature about the whole thing; Sonia, he suspected, was far more grateful he hadn’t made a fuss than she had let on.

As he made his way down the cobblestone street, he could see the lights of the train approaching in the distance. He was struck with the picture of Gloria and Bede sitting opposite one another, chatting and showing each other stupid shite on their phones, the same way himself and Gloria had so very long ago on that first trip to Motostoke. He ground his teeth together, annoyed at the prick of jealousy that accompanied that image. Don’t be stupid. Bede’s friendship with Gloria would never be as deep as the bond Hop and her shared. Getting territorial would not prove a warm welcome.

He headed into the swinging gates at the entrance just at the train pulled up to the platform. The station was fairly empty, as always, save for the handful of people waiting in the reception area. Passengers trickled out, into the arms of loved ones or hurrying on their respective ways. Hop strained until he caught sight of a flash of white-blond. He barely had time to register it as Bede before Gloria was in his line of vision, waving wildly before careening into his arms.

“Hey Gloria,” he greeted, wrapping his arms around her. The moment was so supremely normal that for a second he forgot completely about the bizarre situation he was in and just enjoyed holding his best friend.

That couldn’t last, however, and eventually he had to release her and step back regard Bede lingering behind her. Even when not bound to his gym uniform, he tended towards pink – Opal’s legacy, Hop supposed. Tonight he donned a rose-coloured jumper and pale blue jeans, his long, white-blond hair brushed back into a loose ponytail. The single diamond earring he wore, dangling on a golden chain, glimmered in the fluorescent lighting of the station interior. Hop realised with a jolt he hadn’t even begun to consider how stark and strange Bede would appear against the pastel greens and greys of his hometown. He was surreal, like an accidental splotch of electric pink on a careless artist’s quaint countryside watercolour.

“Hop.” Bede moved forward, his hand extended in greeting. Hop shook himself from his reverie to grasp it, careful to meet Bede’s eyes and ignore Gloria’s stern look.

“Hiya, Bede,” he replied, shaking his hand before returning his own to his pockets. “Good… good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Bede’s lip curled. Hop was sure he could see the insincerity behind that statement in his eyes and was highly amused by the prospect of annoying him for weeks on end. He had to bite back a snide retort. Give him a chance. Like he hadn’t given him ample chances already – it had been 7 years, and Hop was still unable to warm to him. That had to mean something. They stood for a moment, sizing each other up, before Gloria took Bede’s arm and gestured towards the doorway with her free hand.

“Come on you two,” she insisted, tugging on Bede’s sleeve. “I don’t know about you Bede, but I’m beat. Let’s get some food on and settle in.”

Bede smiled angelically back at her. “Sounds heavenly.” Hop supressed the urge to roll his eyes at that contrived posh accent and dug his hands deeper into his pockets to trail after them towards Postwick.

It was going to be a long month.

***

A/N: Still reeling I actually started this, so out of the game with fanfiction it’s unbelievable, haha. Last time I was posting it was on fanfiction.net and author’s notes were still a thing. Anyways – not sure how far into this I’ll get, but will do my best! Updates will be sporadic because I work full-time and am somewhat rusty with fanfiction and writing in general – but I do adore these characters. Will upload to AO3 (believe that’s where the cool kids hang out nowadays) once I am approved for an account.

And yes, the Poké-nicknames are the same ones I use in-game, hehe.

Enjoy! Feedback appreciated.

#cheeryfairyshipping #hop x bede #rival hop #bede #pokemon swsh #pokemon #my writing #Emma talks

28 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 5 years ago

Text

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 13: Playing with Fire

/ Story Masterlist /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Original female character

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Montserrat does her best to help Rafael as Muñoz's case comes to an end, even when the ADA is snarkier than usual.

Montserrat sat on her therapist's couch, relaying with ease what was currently going on with her. It felt nice having a place to freely talk without fear of being snapped at. It was just easy, which showed a lot of progress she made since she first arrived. Dr. Weslin had that recorded every time Montserrat showed up too. Even now, while Montserrat debated by herself whether or not to take it easy on her brother, she showed significant to in the free space offered to talk in.

"I mean, Gael is just being overly dramatic. He's ignoring me and what's worse - or childish one could say - is that he's separating his girls from me too," Montserrat sighed, pausing to think about her older brother. "Sometimes I just want to smack him like when we were kids. We used to actually throw punches at each other, can you believe that? Dad had to come in and separate us. He'd yell at us for thirty minutes without break."

"It seems like your father has always been your mediator then," Weslin noted. "Does he have anything to say about this argument between you and your brother?"

"He doesn't know and honestly he shouldn't have to deal with this. I'm almost 30 and Gael is reaching his forties, we're grown adults acting ridiculous."

"Have you told this to Gael?"

"Please, he's not speaking to me. I have a very a good talent at irritating people, whether I want to in that moment or not. Maybe that's how I always get myself into problems." Montserrat said with a heavy resignation that Dr. Weslin gave her a strange look.

"We're not talking about your argument with your brother anymore, are we?"

Montserrat shrugged her shoulders in an attempt to be casual. "I guess not."

"Would you care to elaborate, then?"

"There's not much too it, really," Montserrat shrugged yet again.

Weslin had come to notice Montserrat only did this as an overly attempt at being casual when she neared the topic of her rape. It was like Montserrat tried pushing it all behind her to form a past.

"Maybe if I hadn't been so irritating at work, people would have given more of a damn about what happened to me," Montserrat finally spat out. "Maybe they wouldn't have been so quick to brush it away and transfer me."

"Montserrat, you're not blaming yourself for this right?" Dr. Weslin feared Montserrat had somehow regressed in her recovery.

"No," Montserrat said with absolute certainty. "It shouldn't have happened to me, period. I just meant maybe if I had acted better, people at my old job, who knew what happened, would have had more consideration for me." Montserrat didn't like to think a lot about her old job in Queens, but the people there had never been the kindest. She didn't expect - nor want for that matter - a whole sympathy party from them, but she didn't expect to be pushed out of the job either. "That's why I like where I am now. At least if anything happens to me again, I know people might care."

It was a rather cynical way of thinking, but Montserrat felt it to be nothing but the truth.

~0~

By the time Montserrat returned to the precinct, many things had already gone down. For starters, the team had discovered their mayor-to-be was using secret websites to chat with other women, sometimes going truly explicit. Poor Amanda had been the center of his attention the previous night.

"Alex claims wall street is setting him up," Rafael wearily repeated the excuse Alex had given him earlier in the morning after speaking to him about the pictures he sent to Amanda.

The rest of the team exchanged curious glances but no one, except Nick, dared to mention what they were thinking.

"What, you told him we were looking at his account?"

Rafael took the accusation somewhat calmly. He expected some type of accusation along those lines. "I gave him a chance to get out in front of this."

Nick seemed to be angered with the answer, as he firmly believed Rafael was on another plan. "So now not only is he tampering with witnesses, he has you covering it up for him!"

"Nick," Olivia's call made no sense for Nick.

"What!? It's what you're all thinking!"

"Did you find any evidence at all that Lindsay is shaking him down or that he's paying to hush her up?" Rafael's question seemed more like a challenge to defy his words, and it only irritated Nick more.

"There's nothing so far on the public sites, but we'll keep checking," Amanda's fingers hovered over her laptop.

"Do that."

"We will," Montserrat spoke up for the first time since the conversation started. Her curt, brief answer was enough indication she was still very much irritated with him.

He took the jab with a nod of his head. It was well deserved, he knew. "Since we're all clear…" he turned to go, but of course it wouldn't be easy to escape with Nick trailing behind him.

"That's not going to end well," Montserrat got up from her desk and headed for the lounge to get some needed coffee. As she was pouring herself warm coffee, Sonny came into the room. "You want some?" she asked without looking up.

"Sure." Sonny moved over and reached for a couple sugar packs he knew she liked.

"Did Nick come back in one piece?" Montserrat slid her coffee cup to Sonny then grabbed another for herself.

"Not sure. I left before he did," Sonny ripped open a sugar pack and let it all drown into his coffee. "I bet Barba is just trying to keep it together right now." Montserrat briefly paused her coffee pouring, something Sonny noticed but didn't comment on. "I mean, it can't be easy being childhood friends with someone who's, well...turning out not to be the righteous man he once knew."

Montserrat carefully returned the coffee pot to its place. "No, it can't be. But it doesn't give him a right to be so rude when we're just trying to help, and to mention doing our job." There was a particular sourness covering her tone, but Sonny felt like there was an underlying hurt somewhere there.

"Course not, but try being in his shoes for a moment."

Montserrat finally stopped altogether and turned to Sonny. "Is there something you want to say to me?"

"I'm not trying to poke or interfere in whatever you and Barba have going on-"

"-it's nothing," snapped Montserrat, but there was a subtle shift on her feet. "And if you're that interested to know, I'm just a little pissed off that he's being more snarky than usual when all I did was try to be nice and be there for him." As soon as she finished her quick, but feeling-covered, explanation she regretted it. Sonny gave her a look and the fact his lips were twitching to form a smile made her feel no better. "Please don't say anything," she sighed and went back to preparing her coffee. "It's really nothing. I'm just...I tried to be nice and he... practically barked in my face to leave him the hell alone."

"Did he actually say those words?"

"...no. It was more of a…rushed 'I'm good'," Montserrat closed her eyes as another realization hit her. "...which really just means he wasn't. Dammit."

Sonny patted her back and took over the coffee preparation.

Montserrat released a big sigh and brought her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. "And me being the dumbass that I am, missed that." Sonny laughed beside her. "In my defense, I have my own problems too so my temperament is off!"

Sonny held her coffee cup to her with his usual smile. "No one blames you."

"I think one person does," Montserrat took her coffee cup and headed back for the bullpen.

Nick was returning as well but he seemed to be physically fine. "Guys like Barba, too smart for their own good."

"I'm sure he said the same about you," Olivia gave him a pat on the arm as he passed by.

"What, everyone thinks we should just let this go?" Nick looked around to see who was on that side of the coin.

"It's not that we want to," Montserrat spoke up. "But...we really don't have anything incriminating on Muñoz."

"Muñoz sent out some selfies but that's not a sex crime," Fin said before he chuckled. "All I know is I don't want to see any more of them."

Nick was frustrated that no one was taking him serious. "It's not just selfies, all right? This clown could be mayor. He opened himself up to blackmail, right? Eddie had cash. Where did he get it from, huh? This could just be the tip of the iceberg."

"I think we saw more than just the tip," Finn snickered at his spot.

Olivia motioned him to stop before the comments got worse. "Nick, even if you're right, this is a political corruption case. We'd have to hand it over to the feds anyway. What are we going to hand over? The pics he sent to Rollins?"

The woman in question cleared her throat at her desk. She'd been immersed in her computer ever since Rafael had left. "It looks like I may not be the only one. Enrique Trouble's popping up on other sites. It goes back over a year."

Hearing this made the rest of the team gather behind her chair to see her screen.

"Look, I found ten so far!"

"That makes him a dog, not a criminal," Fin still shrugged.

"That's not the word I'd use to describe him," Montserrat said before sipping her coffee.

"Well, one of these women that he was sexting with just got an executive position at the New York gaming commission," Amanda revealed and brought up the profile of said woman. "I wonder who could have pulled those strings."

"Anna Please," Olivia read off the screen. "She have any governmental background?"

"Doesn't seem like it."

"Hold up. I've seen this girl on a screen before, and it wasn't on c-span," Finn said with a curious smile.

~0~

"I don't understand this. I already have the position," the woman named Anna insisted for the second time, already sounding annoyed to the two detectives tailing her down the hallway.

"We have a few background questions," Finn simply repeated their excuse, which was the honest truth anyways.

"Mhm," agreed Montserrat, not quite in the mood for games. She wanted to be direct. "Your resume says you went to university of Michigan, but they don't have any record of you attending."

There was a brief flash of panicked on Anna's face as she sat at her desk. "They don't? Mm-mm. I should fix that. I was more like auditing."

Lies. Montserrat barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. "Really? What subjects?"

"Dance and movement."

"No acting?"

Anna laughed casually, at least that was her attempt. "No. I never studied any acting."

Montserrat gave the woman one look before glancing at Finn. The man seemed giddy as he reached inside his jacket's pocket.

"That's funny, Amber, because my partner here says you're a real natural in - what is it, Finn?"

"This is my favorite," Finn turned over a movie box he'd brought with them. "Million Dollar a Night Baby."

With that in the air, Amber didn't see any point in lying anymore. She released a heavy sigh and looked past the two detectives to the open door. "Okay, this is unfair. It was a long time ago. I didn't do any adult films after that. Are you from vice?" she paused to once again look at the open door. She was being extra quiet now. "I didn't do anything illegal."

"Yeah, we're not so interested in your past jobs," Montserrat clarified. She planted her hands on the desk and leaned forwards. "We want to know how you got your job here. Did Enrique Trouble put in a call for you?"

Amber leveled Montserrat's look, not looking so intimidated as they'd hoped. "So what if he did? It's Albany. Believe me, there are people a lot less qualified than I am working here."

Of course, Montserrat wasn't one to lose so easily. "Fine, we'll remember that as we get your ass fired. Think about that then give us a call," she smiled sweetly then turned to leave with Finn.

They didn't make it out the office door when Amber called for them to stop.

~0~

"I'm home," called Montserrat as soon as she walked into her apartment. She could hear clinging and clanging from Kara's room while she set her things down.

A couple minutes later, Kara emerged from the hallway wearing a pretty blue dress that hugged her body. Her hair was curled and pulled back by two clips.

"Stark red lipstick," Montserrat smirked as she headed by for the kitchen. "That can only mean someone's got a hot date tonight."

"Oh, you betcha," Kara hurriedly patted down her dress as if it needed more help. "He finally asked."

"Who?" Montserrat returned holding a bag of trail mix.

As Kara opened her mouth, someone knocked on the door. Kara hushed up and went to answer instead.

"Oh hell no," Montserrat honestly blamed herself for not realizing quicker.

"Good thing is you know him," Kara pulled Sonny right into the apartment, skipping all the hellos and whatnot.

"Unfortunately."

"Montse," went both with the same disapproval.

"No," Montserrat stuffed more trail mix into her mouth. "If I don't see it, it's not real." And with that, she turned away from the two with no intention of looking back.

"You're a child!" Kara shouted.

Sonny was smarter in that aspect and said something that definitely made Montserrat look back. "And I'll make sure to let you know how it went tomorrow."

"You wouldn't…"

Sonny's smile said it all. "See you later, partner."

Montserrat practically shouted for them to get going already. She shivered once she was alone and dreaded what Sonny would tell her tomorrow, and even more so what Kara would say.

~0~

Rafael didn't think he would ever have to make such a grim visit to one of his old friends. One friend was already borderlining the enemy line, in Alex's perspective anyways. Rafael still had hope - albeit a tiny hope - that Alex would come to his senses sooner or later. For now, he had to try to get Eddie to come back.

He found the old friend in a familiar spot, the same park he used to play at when he was a kid.

"Hey, Raffi. What's good, hermano? How you find me here?" Eddie scooted on the park bench to make more room.

"I stopped by your place, saw your mom," Rafael took the seat but purposely kept a distance. It was awful being like that with an old friend.

"My mom looks good," Eddie knew what Rafael had come for, but he didn't want to get to it. He didn't want to argue.

"Bueno, we got to talk-"

"You know, they...they fixed this park since we were kids, right?" Eddie cut in.

"Yeah, they did. I remember how you always used to look out for me here," Rafael leaned back against the bench. Talking about their good days wasn't helping, but he couldn't stop. "When that gang from P.S. 109 would come after me for my lunch money...you'd put your arm around me. You'd walk me to school. You said anybody that hurt me would have to deal with you."

"You're my brother, Raffi. I would never have learned English if it wasn't for you. We're even, right?"

"I know that. You're loyal...To a fault," Rafael paused, taking a breath in in order to deal with what came next.

"We're not talking about p.S. 109 now, are we?" Eddie took the silence as the answer. "How much trouble am I in, Raffi?"

"Witness tampering, bribery…Eddie, those are felonies."

"I can't... I can't roll on Alex-"

Perhaps it was the final straw in the whole case, or maybe his irritation towards Alex and his blatant disregard for their friend finally got to Rafael, but he snapped. "You've got - you have got to think about yourself now! Jail's gonna go hard for an ex C.O!"

"Raffi, Alex has always been good to me, okay? He said when he becomes mayor, he's going to get me a job at one P.P-"

"Listen to me," Rafael once again snapped. He turned his body towards Eddie, hoping he could get through to Eddie once and for all. "Eddie, Alex is looking out for himself now. You've got your son and your mother to think about. You're not gonna be any good to them upstate."

Eddie looked out to the playground where his son was playing. "I can't hurt Alex. You tell me what I should do. You were always the smart one."

Well, at least one was still good.

~0~

While Amanda and Finn interrogated Eddie (with his lawyer present), Montserrat, Olivia, Nick and Sonny watched from behind the one-way glass. Eddie was practically singing like a canary about Alex's dirty work.

"We got him now," Nick said with visible pride. Everyone looked at him but there was a hesitancy to agree. "What? It's only right with everything Muñoz did."

"Don't get so cocky," Montserrat warned. "It's not real until the prosecutor gets the case."

"It's basically a done deal," Nick waved a hand at them and walked off.

"How horrible," Montserrat mumbled and started to leave as well. Olivia would remain to oversee the rest of the interrogation. "I don't want to even imagine how Rafael is feeling."

"He's the one who got Eddie to spill, so...he must be seeing the light," Nick said, stopping under the hallway threshold.

"Say that to his face," Sonny went right to his desk.

"You think I won't?"

"Oh," both Montserrat and Sonny collectively scoffed, making Nick roll his eyes.

"We know you will," Montserrat took a seat at her desk.

Just as the three were about to have a round, Olivia emerged from the hallway.

"We got him?" Nick was the first to ask, missing how Montserrat and Sonny glanced at each other.

"Yes…" but judging by Olivia's face there was more than she was telling. "We're going to have to do some digging."

~0~

After doing some digging, Olivia immediately sent Montserrat and Sonny to a high school in Yonkers that wasn't even that far from them.

"Is he frikin kidding me?" Montserrat continued to repeat even as the principal of the school led her and Sonny down a crowded hallway.

Sonny didn't say much but it was clear he was disgusted as he saw more of the innocent students walking by. They were targets of their next mayor-to-be.

Jodie Lanier was not a school teacher, far from it. She was a fifteen year old student with an addiction to her cellphone. The blonde girl was taken to a secluded classroom in order to be talked to.

"If this is about the mall, I paid for these bracelets," Jodie hugged her wrist full of bracelets.

"It's about Alex Muñoz," Sonny's response made the girl stiffen.

"I-I don't know who that is."

"No?" Montserrat raised an eyebrow. She had no mood to tolerate the girl's lies. "Then why is he giving you money? And I would be careful with how you talk to a detective."

"O-okay. I know who he is, but I've never met him," Jodie said quickly.

"Not in person? How about on social media?" Montserrat glanced at Sonny who was nodding in agreement. "I mean, you've exchanged messages."

"I can't talk to you about this," Jodie's eyes flickered between the detectives, feeling more and more trapped.

"Because that's why he's paying you?" Sonny's question was met with silence. "Look, Jodie, you're not in any trouble here."

"Then can I go?"

"Soon. But we need to take a look at your cell phone."

Jodie quickly shook her head. "No way. I have rights!" But seeing the two serious detectives made her falter. "Don't I?"

"Okay, Jodie, this is how it'll work if you don't cooperate right now," Montserrat stepped forwards, intimidating the girl without effort. "If you don't hand the phone over right now, we can and will get a warrant for it. However, to do that we'll have to talk to your mom."

Bingo, the right words had been said.

"Please don't call my mom."

~0~

"Okay Nick, now we got him," Olivia said after reviewing their evidence against Alex. And boy was it a lot.

"Now what?" Amanda looked at the rest of the group, all solemnly quiet due to the problems they were about to cause for not only their friend, but for the city itself. "The election is happening and like it or not, what Barba said is true. Should we attack before or after?"

"We need to do it now," Finn said before anyone else spoke up. "It'll be a lot harder to make the case when he had even more power."

"It's not quite up to us, though," Olivia reminded them all where the case would be going.

"But it will be handled before anything happens," Nick said the obvious.

"We have to hand this over to Barba," Olivia pulled her glasses off and rubbed her forehead. It was going to be a difficult conversation.

"Let me do it," Montserrat's volunteer came as a surprise to the group, although not so much for Sonny. Whoever volunteered would be volunteering to get yelled at and probably insulted.

The job was hers.

~0~

The last thing Rafael expected was for Montserrat to stop by his office. She came with a mission, however, and it was not a good one.

"Sorry," she felt the need to say as he watched him go through the evidence.

Rafael did a double-take at her, seeming almost incredulous. For a split second, Montserrat thought she did something wrong again.

"Oh God, what I say now?" she sighed.

"Nothing," Rafael said quietly then returned his attention to the report. "Absolutely nothing," he mumbled under his breath.

"When are you handing that over to the special prosecutor?" she then asked, though the fact she was rocking on her feet was signal enough of her nervousness.

"I... I'm not sure. I want Alex - I want him to do it out of his own accord. Be the man he used to be."

Montserrat could say that was a failed plan, but she thought she should be more cautious with her words. "But you just said it. He's someone else now. You can't keep giving him chances you wouldn't offer other perps."

The label hurt more than it should've because it was true.

"I have to try," Rafael insisted, pushing himself up from his seat. He knew what she was thinking - that he was biased, and he probably was - but he needed to do it one more time, at least one more time to say he did everything he could. "Maybe now that he knows what's coming, he'll want to do the right thing."

Montserrat watched him move around the office, trying to convince himself that things could be turned down the right path. She knew what the outcome would be and she was pretty sure that he knew too. He was just trying to convincing himself Alex would take the last chance.

"That's your plan?" she took a seat on his desk, ignoring his brief look for that, and crossed her legs. "Stupidly waste your time? And at night, by the way?"

"It's not a waste of time," he snapped. "I'm giving him the opportunity-"

"-he doesn't want an opportunity!" Montserrat suddenly snapped louder than he had. "C'mon, Rafael, you're too smart for that. How did Nick put it? You're too smart for your own good!"

Rafael stopped his pacing to glare at her, but even then Montserrat didn't back down. She'd grown very used to it by now. Still, she knew this was a different situation, one that had him going crazier than usual. That pushed her guilt.

"You're not desisting, are you?"

"Not at all."

You stubborn man. Montserrat inwardly sighed but still ventured to help him. "Fine. Then I'm coming with."

Rafael paused for another second, thinking it was a joke or another tactic to get him to stop. But when she didn't retract, he became uncomfortable. "Why?"

"Because you're hell-bent on losing your job and because I'm an idiot who loves being yelled at."

That sting was of course meant for him and it was well delivered, but she didn't actually seem to be upset. That just made things odder. He knew he'd been unnecessarily rude to her, in the same situation they were in again, and yet she was stupid enough to come back for more?

"No, absolutely not," he said in the end, but he should've known who he was dealing with.

"You don't have a choice. I'm coming, end of story. Or I go and arrest Alex myself. I'm sure Nick would accompany me if I asked."

Rafael's glare returned, and deeper too, but he knew when he lost...even though it wasn't often. Montserrat got him. In another moment, he would've been impressed. "First, get off my desk."

"Sorry," Montserrat quickly got off and smiled cheerfully.

"Second of all, don't ever threaten me like that again."

"That I cannot promise. You have a tendency to only understand if you're being threatened," Montserrat shrugged and moved to the side. She gestured towards the desk where the evidence rested. "Get what you need."

Rafael looked at her for a full minute before walking up to his desk. Before sifting through the evidence, he glanced at her. "Novak, you're setting yourself up for trouble."

"I know," Montserrat said with all honesty. Her bluntness was even more surprising to him.

She was dead serious.

~0~

The flashing lights in the building would make Montserrat blind if she remained there for too long. Fifteen minutes of standing there were already doing a number on her.

"Now I see why you say 'no' to these events," she told Rafael while she rubbed her eyes.

The ADA was quietly standing beside her, eyes trained on the incoming guests. So many important people had passed by except for the one he needed. Eventually, he began to hear Alex's voice greeting those at the entrance. It was, of course, sucking up.

"Do you want me to come with you, or…?" Montserrat trailed off when Rafael raised a hand indicating her stop.

"Just make sure no one else follows," he curtly warned before taking off.

Montserrat frowned after him. She hated the way he was talking to her, but she tried to remind herself his situation. It was courtesy, leniency, she was trying to offer...but he was pushing her buttons.

"Be the bigger person, be the bigger person," Montserrat mumbled under her breath as she walked past the guests.

"Now? Seriously?" She arrived in time to see Alex's response to Rafael's probable polite asking for a talk.

The local reverend of the place came forwards, almost reeling Alex away from Rafael. "There's a room full of union leaders and CEOs waiting to hear how he's going to save the city."

Montserrat practically pushed her way through the crowd in order to cleverly respond with, "Then unless you want that whole room of Union leaders and CEOs to hear that your friend may be guilty - of several serious charges by the way - you should listen to my friend."

Rafael gave her a side-glance, seemingly thankful for the jab.

"Rafael, todo bien?" Yelina had done the same as Montserrat - moved people out of her way to get there, but the only difference was she did in a lavender cocktail dress.

Rafael kept a straight face when he replied. "Alex and I need to talk."

"Ahora?"

"Well, let's get a nice shot," the priest pulled Yelina towards a photographer and a group of waiting guests. "Mr. Slater, will you join us?"

"I won't be long," Alex promised Yelina, giving her a long kiss afterwards.

Montserrat rolled her eyes in plain sight. She was so done with these people.

"Do you know what they're going to talk about?" Yelina approached Montserrat almost immediately after Rafael left with Alex.

Montserrat cleared her throat and practically looked anywhere but Yelina's face. "I...may have an idea, but I definitely know you're not gonna like it." And even though she kept true to her words, she could tell that Yelina had figured out a good portion of the situation. "I'm so sorry," Montserrat could only say before leaving herself.

As she exited the building, she could see the two shadows of men across the street. She's didn't want to admit that she could hear some pieces of their conversation - turning into an argument real fast, she might add - but it was inevitable. What she was lost on was how someone could deny what was so blatantly true especially when it hit them in the face. Because that's exactly what Alex was doing, even when Rafael kept springing new evidence right to Alex's face.

In fact, Alex was getting offended as if he had a reason to get offended. It was ridiculous.

Rafael was left to walk the street alone since, according to Alex - and a hidden truth - he was no longer friends with the people of his neighborhood. Montserrat felt sympathy for them all, but even more for her friend. And by this point, Rafael was going to go mad. It hurt that he was being accused of purposely drowning his once best friend into an abyss. As if he was the wrong one.

One thing Montserrat was sure of was that friendship was over. The bad blood was too much.

"Rafael! Hey! Stop walking!" Montserrat sprinted after him down the street. "Would you - I know you can hear me!"

Finally, the ADA stopped and turned sideways, his expression warning her to stay away. Of course, Montserrat wasn't one to always listen. "Novak, you're free to go."

Montserrat snorted, her offence etching across her face. "No one was threatening with me with a gun, Rafael. I came for you. As backup. As...support because I can't imagine what you're feeling. I wouldn't be able to take it."

"I can. You can go-"

"-I'm not leaving you alone like this! What the hell did Alex tell you?"

"That he doesn't care, basically. He has…" Rafael stopped for a second, still unable to believe where they were now. "He has no morals left. So now I have to do what my job tells me to."

"You're going to turn him in," Montserrat quietly said. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Rafael said then turned to leave.

"Well…" Montserrat hesitated to follow, knowing she was just pushing his anger to double, but it wasn't a good idea to leave him alone either. "Do you want to go get some drinks? Coffee maybe…?" She'd only taken a couple steps in his direction when he whirled around with newfound anger.

"Novak, leave me the hell alone! I don't want your company, I don't need anyone else! So leave me alone already!"

Montserrat blinked in shock at his outburst. Of course she figured she'd finally pushed the right button of his to make him snap like that. She couldn't say she was surprised. "Sorry…" she cleared her throat and brought her coat closer to her chest. "I'll...see you tomorrow, then." She started turning in the opposite direction and only paused for a second to apologize again.

Rafael shook his head and started on his own way home, but as he walked he remembered this wasn't the first time he snapped at Montserrat while she was trying to help him...the guilt started settling in. He didn't feel guilt very often, which was what made it hard to ignore this one. "Dammit," he muttered to himself before turning back. He didn't exactly know what he was doing but his feet were moving in Montserrat's direction, and fast too.

He spotted the familiar red hair nearly at the end of the block. She was on the phone...and he started to overhear.

"No, I'm coming home right now. Jesus, who are you? My father?" Montserrat snorted at whoever was on the other line. "Oh no, if you're at my place then I'm not coming home for a long time."

Montserrat pushed the pedestrian button to cross the street and waited her turn. "I did go with Rafael to that stupid event but in the end I got the worst of it." There was a brief pause before Montserrat snorted again. "Nah, he's being an ass. I'll go check up on him tomorrow morning." Another pause passed then Montserrat started bidding goodbye. "Yeah, whatever. See you tomorrow, Carisi." She stuffed her phone into her coat's pocket and continued to wait for the light to switch.

Montserrat heard someone clear their throat followed by a, "So you talk to Carisi at this hour?"

Montserrat playfully rolled her eyes. The pedestrian light switched to go so she stepped onto the road to cross the street. "What do you care if I talk to Sonny?"

"I'm just curious," Rafael walked alongside her.

"Why are you back?" Montserrat's question was asked in the a tiring manner, as if she'd done this over and over. (And she had). Two times was enough to get a hint, though.

"I realized I acted like…"

Montserrat stopped once they'd crossed the street and turned to face him. "...an ass? Yeah. You are. It's why I was giving you the night to cool off."

Rafael's smile was wide and amused. "Really? And you were still going to come back?"

Montserrat wanted to ignore his amusement but she somehow ended up smiling as well. "Yeah. You're an extra rude prick but I'm letting it go on, on account of the situation."

Despite the light atmosphere between them, Rafael had to get serious. And when he did, the guilt returned. "Montserrat, I'm...you came with me - you offered to come with me and I...I yelled...I was…"

Montserrat smiled even wider when she realized what he was attempting to do. She would've let it go on for pure amusement but she figured he was already having enough troubles, so she gave him a break and surprised him with a hug.

"What are you doing…?" Rafael went stiff, to the point where Montserrat nearly laughed.

"Hugging you because you need it," she mumbled. "I'm sorry about Alex."

"So am I," Rafael admitted. "But don't count him out. He's a winner." Montserrat scoffed, but he was quite serious. "When I was seven, my mom said, 'stick with Alex. He'll be mayor of New York someday.' She never said that about me."

"But you turned out even better," Montserrat said automatically and missed his brief smile.

"It's politics. No danger of a traffic jam on the high road."

"He was a friend-"

"-so was Yelina. She thinks this was personal, not professional."

"Stop," Montserrat drew away from him to look him in the eyes. "If they'd been your friends, they wouldn't have put you through all of that. It's on them, not on you."

"Thank you," Rafael said after a minute. He looked at her for a minute while it donned on him she'd been the only one to be with him throughout the entire case, even when he probably didn't deserve it. He pulled her back for another hug, startling her, but it was ironic since he wasn't able to hug back the way Montserrat would expect. It showed he didn't do a lot of hugging in his life...which was a shame because he had the arms for it...and a good scent.

Get ahold of yourself, Montse, she silently berated herself.

"Is your brother still not talking to you?"

Montserrat was startled by the question. "No. In his perspective, I'm still the ungrateful daughter who insulted our father." Her sarcastic remark wasn't enough to make it seem like it hurt less. But just like Rafael, a grimness settled across her face. "He's not letting me talk to my nieces, nor see them. I don't have a lot of family in New York, so...it's a little hard dealing with it…"

"I know," Rafael agreed. "You'll get through this."

"...so will you," Montserrat whispered.

She sincerely hoped they could.

#rafael barba #svu #ocapp #ocappreciation #rafael barba imagines #svu imagines #svu fanfics #rafael barba fics #law and order svu #oc: Montserrat Novak #fic: dare to forget me #noblecrescentedit #sonny carisi #olivia benson #amanda rollins #fin tutuola #Nick Amaro

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minyoongleschimjoongles · 5 years ago

Text

Windfall 1

Pairing(s): Poly!BTS X OC, Sugar Daddy! BTS X OC

Warnings: Implied sexual situations

Note: In this fic, Zara can’t speak very much Korean. Until the language barrier is closed, Bold Text indicates that a person or an app is speaking in Korean.

Masterlist

The way Seokjin tells the story, the day he and the boys met Zara was foretold for centuries. He distinctly remembers the clouds parting to reveal the shining sun, and a choir of angels singing praises to the heavens. The moment her green eyes met Namjoon’s dark ones, the world stopped spinning for a noticeable moment, then her eyes swept over the rest of them, and their fates were sealed forever.

Jin’s full of shit.

The truth of the matter is this; the sky was downpouring, the clouds inky grey above pedestrians, locals and tourists as they ran for cover into stores and under awnings. It seemed to Zara like they’d never see the sun again.

The small coffee shop she was sitting in was overcrowded, but the wifi was free, and the Chai Tea was cheap, a blessing to Zara’s depressingly thin wallet. On the laptop in front of her was the essay that was due at midnight, the half-edited blog post scheduled to go up in two days, and the raw footage for her latest youtube video. When you were a content creator in college, multitasking was key.

Jin’s “chorus of angels” was actually the squealing of a group of prepubescent girls that had caught sight of the Boys as they moved through the shop with their coffee orders. Polite as they were, they were taking photos with the fans as they passed, though Big Hit would surely yell at them when they find out.

Zara was paying no attention to the commotion, eyes on her computer screen, listening to the audio of her video through the chunky headphones she wore. Had she been paying attention, Zara might have been able to prevent the disaster that occurred right at that moment.

Namjoon, still smiling at the young fan he’d just taken a selfie with, made to take another step towards the door. His foot caught on a table leg, his long, clumsy limbs pinwheeling in an attempt to recover his balance. The coffee was released in favor of the edge of Zara’s table, his eyes widening in horror as they followed the downward trajectory of the beverage, straight onto the keys of Zara’s computer. The screen flickered once, twice, then blinked out completely.

The world did go still when Zara’s eyes met Namjoon’s for the first time, but that’s because of the fury that surrounded the small young woman.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi’s words were carried with a nervous exhale. Zara’s angry gaze swept over him briefly before going over the other five young men, before finally settling back on Namjoon.

“What,” she reached up to pull her headphones off her head, “the fuck?!”

“Oh, shit!” Namjoon straightened to his full height, grabbing for napkins to sop up the coffee before it began to drip into her lap. “Fuck, I am so sorry!”

Zara stood quickly, and despite being half a foot shorter than he was, the look on her face made him take a step back. He watched as she began to fiddle with her laptop, trying to get it to turn back on, to no avail.

“Oh, no,” she whined softly when she realized how screwed she actually was. “Oh, no, no, no!” She hung her head and brought her hands up to her face, thinking over her options. Her essay and her blog post weren’t an issue; anything she had to type, she did in Google Docs before submitting or posting. She didn’t need to worry about the unedited video footage either; her personal channel was nowhere near as popular as her family’s, so there was no uproar if supply didn’t meet demand, and her “fans” would understand. But the memories, and the photos she’d saved on her computer couldn’t be replaced, and to be honest, neither could the computer. At least, not for a long time. She quite simply couldn’t afford it on her meager part-time retail salary.

Namjoon reached out to gently brush her shoulder with his fingertips. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you okay?”

Becoming aware of the whispers and the many eyes on her as she had a quiet meltdown, Zara stepped away from him, shoving her ruined laptop into her bag. Namjoon watched her with guilty eyes, casting a pleading look at his brothers over his shoulder. Taehyung, the epitome of ‘no help’ shrugged his shoulders. Namjoon turned back to see Zara had shoved the rest of her stuff into her bag, leaving her half-finished tea on the table.

“I can make it up to you,” he said, as she hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and made for the door.

“Look man, don’t worry about it, okay?” Zara’s voice shook as she called over her shoulder. “I gotta go, I gotta get out of here.”

Namjoon was quick to follow her out the door, his long legs carrying him over the distance between them in record time.

“Hey, hey!” he looked down as he matched her stride. Zara’s eyes stayed on the sidewalk, her hand tightening on the strap of her bag. “Come on, let me make it up to you.”

Zara’s cheeks burned, and she glared up at him.

“Oh my gosh, you’re not going to use this as an opportunity to hit on me, are you?”

To her surprise, Namjoon laughed, bringing out the most adorable dimples Zara had ever seen. “No, I’m going to use it as an opportunity to get you a new laptop.”

That stopped her in her tracks, and Namjoon grinned at her wide green eyes. “That’s better, Speedy. Hi. I’m Kim Namjoon.”

***

“How about this one?”

It had taken Namjoon the better part of an hour to convince Zara to agree to letting him buy her a computer and to come out to lunch with him and the boys, swearing up and down that they weren’t going to kidnap and murder her. Now she sat in a huddle of attractive young men, Namjoon’s phone in her hand, scrolling through the laptops Amazon offered with a frown on her face.

Namjoon looked up from the book in his hand at the price of the laptop on the phone screen and shook his head.

“No way, pick a more expensive one.”

“A more expensive one?!”

Namjoon just shushed her, a small smirk on his face.

Zara gave the boys a few more options, none of them going over $200. Finally, Jimin sighed and snatched Namjoon’s phone out of her hand.

“If you’re going to be unreasonable, I’ll have to do it myself.” He scrolled back up to the top of the page, clicking on a Macbook. Though Zara didn’t understand his words, his actions spoke loudly enough for her to understand.

“No, hey, that’s way too much!” she cried, as he clicked, ‘Buy now.’ “I’m never going to be able to pay you back!”

He completely ignored her protests, completing his order. When he had confirmation that the deed was done, he spun around to face her. His eyes darted over her face, taking in the blush, the slackened jaw, the frustrated tears.

“I can’t afford-”

“We can afford,” Taehyung assured in broken English, taking up her hands and shaking her gently.

Namjoon closed his book, accepting his phone back from Jimin, before fixing Zara with a smile. “Look, I messed up. You don’t owe me anything. Come on, Zara, don’t cry. I hate it when girls cry.”

“I’ll find a way to pay you back,” she promised, wiping her eyes. “It’s not right to let you spend so much money on me when you could certainly be using it on something more important.” Over Zara’s shoulder, Namjoon connected eyes with each of his bandmates, his brow arched high. Jin’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. It wasn’t every day that they met someone that didn’t know who they were. It was certainly refreshing.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll pay you back!”

Taehyung rubbed her arms again, and seeing that she wasn’t going to cry anymore, he let her go.

“Yeah, you can try, Speedy.” Namjoon said, “Come write your number down so we can let you know when your laptop arrives,” he paused, and his grin widened a little more. “By the way, this will be the opportunity we’ll take to hit on you, Pretty Girl.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she scoffed, but now she was smiling too.

“Oh, you haven’t met incorrigible.”

***

PJM: What are you doing right now?

Zara looked away from the paper notes in front of her, a tiny smile appearing when she saw Jimin’s initials pop up. Over the past week, the boys had stayed in contact, painstakingly Google-Translating every text to ask her questions about herself, telling her stories about themselves. Jin admitted they’d googled her when she told him about her family’s Youtube channel AHillofaRide, and she admitted she’d googled them too, as soon as she’d gotten home that first day. She’d been more than shocked to discover how famous they actually were, but it got a lot of the awkward stuff out of the way and she found herself grinning like a fool every time her phone buzzed with a message from one (or all) of them.

Zara: I’m cramming for my WWII History Midterm.

PJM: I thought you were in Art School, Z?

Zara: I am, but I’m double majoring in History.

PJM: That’s amazing, Zara, you’re amazing. Art and P.E. were always my favorites in school, but I guess History was okay too.

Zara: You’re a monster, History is the best. Stop lying to yourself.

PJM: Yes, Ma’am.

PJM: So, Speedy...

All the boys had taken to calling Zara by Namjoon’s initial nickname for her, and it had begun to make her heart flutter.

Zara: So, Jimin...

PJM: Your laptop’s here. Did you want to come pick it up from the arena, or did you want me to drop it off with you? I can come by now?

Zara glanced up from her phone screen to look at the messy floor of her dorm room. She and her roommates had had a study party the night before, and the floor was covered in pizza boxes, candy wrappers, soda cans and a mixture of dirty and clean clothes. She imagined much of their suite looked the same.

Zara: I don’t want to be a bother.

PJM: It's no bother. I’m just hanging around doing nothing right now, anyway.

PJM: You’d be doing me a favor, really.

PJM: I’m getting stir crazy.

Zara: Well, we wouldn’t want that. Can you give me 20 minutes before you leave?

PJM: Sure thing. See you soon, Speedy.

Zara slammed her notebook shut, bolting to her feet. She shot a quick message to her roommate, Ji-yoo (who, conveniently was originally from South Korea), and their suitemates Jane and Clara, letting them know she was having a guest over, that she was purging the disaster, getting only positivity in reply. Apparently it was about time she had a boy over.

She started with the pizza boxes, breaking them down and putting them aside to be recycled. She moved on to the garbage in the floor, gathering the wrappers and shoving them into the overflowing garbage can that she and Ji-yoo shared. She let out a grunt and scoured the top shelf of their closet for any garbage bags, letting out a victory screech when she found the roll of bags wedged between the shelf and the wall. The garbage was dumped and she moved on to the soda cans.

The clothes were a lost cause, so she tossed them all into the hamper to be dealt with later. She made the beds, folding blankets and fluffing pillows and tucking in the sheets, before moving on to their desks. Ji-yoo’s desk wasn’t awful, just a little cluttered with her notebooks and textbooks. Her makeup sat in an overflowing basket on the corner of her desk, but other than that, all Zara had to do was put some papers in the drawers.

Her own desk was covered in pallets of paint and sketchbooks and pencils, the drawers of the organization caddy she’d bought for her supplies were open, their contents scattered across the desk and the top of the caddy. With a huff, she cursed her disorganized tendencies. By the time she had everything back in the right drawers, and the desktop cleared, she knew her 20 minute head start was over, leaving her only another 15 to clean the common area.

The dorm suite was a simple set-up, consisting of a small common area; no more than a long hallway with a counter top spanning the length of it. There was a toilet room at one end, a shower room at the other, and the two dorms between them. The door to the suite had an electronic lock on it, as did each of the dorm doors, but the girls usually left the doors open during the day.

Sharing such a small space between four girls wasn’t difficult for Zara; she had younger siblings, so she was used to lots of people living their lives around her. Living in the dorm actually helped her with a bit of her home sickness. Having three people there to talk to made living on the complete opposite end of the country from her home, made living in a strange, huge city bearable and for that she would always be thankful.

Due to the common area being the most shared space, it was the cleanest. Jane had gone out and bought the recycling and garbage bins and Clara had brought a shoe rack from home that she let all of them share. Command hooks held various jackets, hats, and accessories, and Ellie’s art had been proudly sticky-tacked to the wall by Ji-yoo.

There was a microwave on the counter and a mini-fridge on the ground beneath it. A TV sat haphazardly next to the microwave, with Zara’s blu-Ray player and Jane’s Xbox next to it, cables a tangled mess around it. There was a lone circle chair between the two dorms, upon which a large Scooby-Doo plush sat standing guard, courtesy of Zara’s younger sister Scarlet.

She’d just finished tying off the top of the garbage bag when her phone vibrated on the counter.

PJM: They won’t let me into the building without you here with me.

Zara: That’s because you’re a random 4 foot tall stranger.

PJM: Ouch.

Zara snorted and lifted the bag, grabbing her key card and student ID from her jacket pocket on her way out the door. She dropped the trash in the bin at the end of the hall and started down the stairs at a light jog, her slippers echoing quietly in the silence.

It was easy to see Jimin standing at the security desk, an easy-going smile on his face as he made large hand gestures to the security guard, one hand holding the Amazon box. He looked nice in his plain white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, his hair tousled from the wind. His eyes lifted to meet hers and his smile turned into a full on grin.

“There she is!” He exclaimed in Korean. He quickly set the Amazon box on the counter and, to Zara’s surprise, wrapped his arms around her, sliding between her tank top and the flannel shirt she wore. The next sentence was spoken in slow, careful English, clearly something he’d practiced. “It’s nice to see you, Pretty Girl.”

Zara could feel her face heat up against Jimin’s t-shirt.

“Zara Underhill,” the security officer said, causing Jimin to break away from her. “You’ve never had visitors before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Zara sighed, reaching for the sign-in sheet and signing her name. She slid the clipboard in front of Jimin and held out the pen to him. He filled out his information and signed his name with a flourish.

“Okay, Miss Underhill, he’s all yours.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Zara smiled and started back up the stairs. Over her shoulder she called, “This way, Jimin. Follow me.”

Jimin wasn’t the only one who had been practicing. Zara had enlisted Ji-yoo to teach her some Korean, sensing that her interactions with these boys would last longer than the short time they’d be in California. Although, Zara was far from fluent.

Jimin grabbed the Amazon box and followed after her up the stairs. On the third landing, he gave a little whistle. “You live so far up. Which floor do you live on?” When he saw Zara turn to blink back at him stupidly, he searched his brain for his limited English vocabulary. “What Floor?”

“Five.”

“Elevator?”

Zara shook her head and pulled out her phone, the Google Translate already open and at the ready. “It’s always crowded. I get enough crowding at home, you know, so the stairs are easier.”

Jimin nodded, smiling. He pulled out his own phone, “I guess it’s good exercise!”

When they reached her suite, she let them in and he lingered awkwardly in the doorway, looking at the art in the small common area.

“Yours?” He looked at the perfect colored pencil rendition of Rapunzel, a grin working its way onto his lips.

“Yep,” Zara replied, quickly tapping on her phone. “My sister, Scarlet, really loves fairy tales, and she was on a real Rapunzel kick. She’s got a picture of Flynn Rider I drew framed next to her bed.”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jimin mumbled to himself. Zara grinned at him, and nodded to her dorm room.

“Come on, Legs.”

Obediently, Jimin followed her in, setting about opening the computer box as Zara settled herself at the head of her bed. She watched him quietly as he plugged it in and began the setup, letting her type in all her information, jokingly looking away from her passwords.

“There you go, Miss Zara,” his phone droned as he scooted back so that he reclined against her headboard next to her. He watched her fingers moving lightly against the keyboard as she scrolled through her Twitter. She placed her hand on the top of the screen and paused, before closing the laptop and setting it gently to the side.

“Jimin,” She said, sitting up on her knees. In response to the slightly serious edge to her voice, Jimin straightened his back a little. “Tell me what you want in return for the computer.” This is the phrase Zara had practiced.

They were back to this again, were they? Jimin’s lips twisted into a pout, and his fingers tapped across his phone screen.

“Zara, I’m serious, you don’t have to pay us back.”

“No, Jimin, I’m serious. Why won’t you let me pay you back?! It’s not like it’s a sex thing...”

Jimin, who had already been shaking his head and typing before Zara’s phone had even stopped translating, froze abruptly, lifting his eyes slowly, and Zara’s own eyes widened as realization took root.

“Oh my gosh, it is a sex thing! Jimin, you’re a total Sugar Daddy! Or would it be Sugar Daddies? Is it all of you?”

Jimin winced at her tone of voice, not needing her to translate the words, ‘Sugar Daddy,’ at all. His fingers finally typed out a response, “That’s not exactly the situation, but I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Zara stared at him a little longer, before coming to a decision. She reached for her flannel and ripped it off. Jimin started, dropping his phone onto her bed.

“Zara, what are you doing?”

She didn’t answer, reaching next for her black tank top. This action is what spurred Jimin into action.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” He grabbed her wrists gently, forcing her down onto her back. She gazed up at him as he hovered over her, stress showing in his eyes. “What are you doing?”

This, Zara understood.

“I’m paying you back.”

“Jesus Christ, Zara,” it was a long suffering sigh that left him, as he moved himself off of her. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Silence, and then Zara joined him on the side of her bed. She stayed quiet for a few more seconds before typing out, “We could do it, you know? All of us... that would be okay.” He glanced at her and nudged her with his shoulder, reaching back for his own phone.

“The laptop really was just a gift. Hyung killed your first one, we don’t want you feeling obligated to sleep with us just because we replaced it. And it really would be all of us, Zara. All seven. I can’t explain why right now, but I promise if you decide you’re okay with it, we’ll explain right away.”

“Okay,” Zara agreed, but Jimin shook his head and stood up.

“No, we want you to seriously think about it. I want you to think long and hard about if this is really what you want. It doesn’t matter what the guys and I want.” He looked down at her and smiled, “I’ll see you around, Pretty Girl.”

And he left, leaving Zara to think.

@snowythellama @stskpop

102 notes · View notes

boymeetsweevil · 5 years ago

Text

Breathe you in

Grouping: Popstar!Reader x Non-Idol!Taehyung

Word Count: ~7.8k

Warnings/Themes: Shotgunning (so thats recreational drug use), Rough face fucking, face-sitting (fm receiving), some background angst, not too scary lol

Summary: Can I pls request an ex lovers trope with taehyung where you broke up with him , but he shows you he loves you and was never over you and wants to be together again? Thanks!

A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Anniversary fic exchange! Thanks for the prompt!

It’s nearing 10pm when the town car arrives in front of your apartment complex. The driver pulls up in the back entrance used primarily for allowing the higher profile residents to discreetly enter the building when needed. Normally the back entrance is littered with snapping cameras or fans who are trying their hand at stalking. Tonight none of those people are there for you because your mini-tour ended a day early, allowing you to return from Amsterdam a day before what’s scheduled on your website.

“Don’t forget,” your publicist sits across from you on the opposite leather upholstered bench of the car, “You’re close to reaching another follower milestone, so you need to do one last Instagram live before bed.” You release a deep sigh that sounds like it came from your bones.

“Shit. Bee, I’m really tired.”

“Language,” Bee admonishes while scrolling one iPhone in one hand before switching to the one in her other hand.

“Can’t it fucking wait,” you hiss, petty from exhaustion.

She pins you with a look that tells you she’s not playing this game with you and continues typing away. “You’ll sleep soon enough once we go through the checklist for today and tomorrow.”

Bee’s phone pings and you watch the set of her mouth grow infinitely more tense before her eyes dart to you. Rarely does hesitation temper her gaze like it does in this moment. You let out a sigh. She’s about to mention your ex.

“Also, Oh! News wants to bring you in some time this week to address statements Nick made about the breakup.”

“Of course they do,” you sigh again.

“I’ve been trying to push the date back but they’re not taking no for an answer. Plus, it might be better to go out and put an end to it so it can become old news.”

You massage your temples. “Yeah, no, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

Bee watches the gears in your head turn as you think about the whirlwind that was the breakup. With your departure to Europe only a few days after the PG-13 video of him with another actress blew up, there was naturally a lot of speculation. Most of it hateful and directed at you, surprisingly enough. Having just starred in a movie aimed at 12-17 year olds, Nick seemingly had all of the world’s young girl population locked and loaded at you. Your relative silence while on tour for two months in the Netherlands only fueled the outrage.

“Alright, alright,” she opens the door on your side and pushes your purse into your limp arms. “I had them take your luggage up before you. Do what I told you and then...go get some sleep, Sweets.”

“Thanks, Bee.”

Your penthouse apartment is as pristine as you left it when you push open the door, your luggage waiting neatly by your shoe closet. While you unpack your bags in your bedroom, you take note of the outfit laid out for your on your bed. It’s a pair of leggings that have sequins sewn up the sides and a matching off the shoulder top that will definitely require you to keep your bra on. It’s for the Instagram broadcast, so you won’t have to wear it long. But you want to crawl out of your skin and finally be able to turn off your public figure voice more than anything else. You suppose you can handle waiting a little while longer, though.

When you’re dressed and have your hair out of your face, you take your phone with you to the bathroom before waking up your speaker to play some mood music. A little tripod setup waits for you on the sleek countertop. Once your phone is plugged in and you’ve pulled up Instagram, you begin your livestream and your camera smile is on.

“Hey, everybody,” you greet the viewers already watching.

There’s a little more than 800,000 people are currently watching, more than normal this early in a live video. You attribute it to the tweet Bee sent from your Twitter a few minutes prior that broke your 2 month long internet silence.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” you talk a little louder over the music you have playing. “I was so busy in Amsterdam and when I did have some down time, I wanted to really unplug. So I didn’t use social media while I was there. I’ll definitely be uploading the pictures I took, though. I saw some really amazing stuff.”

You begin pumping an oil cleanser into the palms of your hands while stopping to read the comments as they come up on the screen. Some of them you ignore because they’re comments from Nick’s fan accounts. Others welcome you back and some are fans of the artist you were touring with.

“How was touring with Nana,” you echo the fan’s question while rubbing your makeup off. “She was so wonderful, oh my god. I think she’s got such a beautiful point of view when it comes to her lyrics about getting older and dealing with the pressures of being a woman in the spotlight. Also her fashion sense is incredible.”

A few more questions about the products you’re using and what you did on your off time come up. Some people ask if you’re working on a new album yourself and you talk about that as much as you can without breaking any promises, keeping the essentials a secret. Another person asks you to sing a few bars from your verse on the song you did with Nana and you do. By the time you’re tapping moisturizer onto your face, you’ve almost made it through the broadcast unscathed. But then you see a comment that has you breaking character for a second, your muscles freezing.

douknowbt$: OMG Nick is watching the live.

Hopefully no one notices your 2 seconds of panic, but you can’t be sure until someone else blogs about it. You dismiss the comment and finish up with a few pumps of hand cream, rubbing your hands a bit manically as the comments about Nick begin to grow in number. In that moment, you sign off and quickly move to end the live. But with your haste and slippery fingers, you don’t realize you missed the button and the recording was still going.

A few of the viewers try to send messages letting you know that the live hasn’t ended, but you don’t check your phone again after throwing it onto your covers and climbing into bed. With the camera facing up, you’re seen pulling up your laptop and putting on some classical music using the surround sound speakers in your bedroom. From the screen, all the viewers can see you sitting stiffly on your bed, eyes closed for a few minutes in what looks like meditation as the adagio that’s playing washed over you. After a few deep breaths, you open your eyes and reach for your phone.

“Oh sh—,” you keep yourself from cursing at the last second when you discover the livestream didn’t end. “I’m sorry, guys. I was so tired I guess I didn’t realize I forgot to end the video. I’m signing off for real now. Yes, yes, I’m okay. Just tired. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You triple check to make sure the video is off before throwing your phone across the bed. The day didn’t seem like it could get worse after your long flight and even longer wait at the airport when it seemed like your luggage was lost. Not to mention that you were bone tired and hungry but couldn’t have any of the foods you were craving because of a stupid photo shoot coming up in a few weeks. In that moment, the intercom rings, signaling that the front desk is trying to reach you, but you remain in bed and hope that it’ll stop. It does, for a moment, before starting up again. You groan before getting up and heading to the front door.

“Yes?”

“Hello Miss,” says the cheerful older man who runs the front desk during nights. “I trust you’re having a delightful evening.”

“Hello, Sir.”

“We just wanted to alert you that the delivery person with your order is currently on the 15th floor and should be at your suite shortly. Please anticipate your food’s arrival in the next few minutes and have a pleasant rest of the evening.” The call ends just like that, not leaving you any room to protest and say that you didn’t order food.

You figure it’s just that Bee saw what a huge shitshow your livestream was and she wants to send you something to make you feel better. And no doubt if it was something that came with a delivery person, it was good food. If she came herself, she would definitely have brought something like a salad bowl or a sushi plate. If you eat another vegetarian sushi plate, you're certain you'll die. Not from Mercury poisoning—like your mother always warns you about—but from sadness.

A tentative knock on the door sounds and you open it with a plasticky smile. Sometimes they send people who get a little star struck. Most times you’re amenable to just being subdued but friendly so that they just ask for a selfie or a quick autograph on a take out napkin and don't try to linger or say you were a bitch later on.

Tonight you're not really in the mood for too much friendliness tonight, though. In the drawer next to the door, you dig around for the wad of cash you keep hidden there and pull an obscene tip out.

“Hi, thank you,” you keep your head down and blindly reach for the white paper bag in the person's hand. “Have a good—excuse me, asshole!”

“That’s not my name.”

The hand yanks the bag out of your reach at the last second, lifting high above your head. You’re not at all in the mood for dealing with a pissy delivery boy who wants to knock you down a few pegs. Putting your hands on your hips, you’re about to give him the verbal lashing he deserves, PR consequences be damned, when you a good look at his face stops you.

“Taehyung?”

“In the flesh,” he shoots back at you.

The man in front of you gives you a muted, smug smile before shouldering his way past you and into your apartment. He stands tall in the foyer of your apartment like he belongs there and has been there a thousand times. You can’t help but drink in the image of your ex-boyfriend from half a decade ago despite the fact that he’s technically intruding. There’s still a whisper of the boy you started dating when you were in your last year of high school, but much of that is overpowered by the man he is now. He’s broader in the jaw and the shoulders than he was before, and there must have been some growth spurts since you last saw him.

“This is real nice,” he lets out a low whistle as he takes in the large open floor-plan of your apartment. You follow closely behind as he starts walking around, head cocked forward with purpose.

“What are you looking for?”

“The kitchen,” he says casually.

“It’s that way,” you gesture before realizing that you need to get your priorities straight. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I came to bring you food.”

The bag he raises gives off a pleasant savory smell and you clench your fist to keep yourself from excusing his sudden appearance.

“I didn’t ask for food. And I certainly didn’t ask you for food.”

“Touchy,” he turns back to pin you with an amused grin. “But you didn’t have to ask. I knew you needed it.”

“You knew I needed it?” You raise an incredulous eyebrow, eager to hear his explanation. “How did you know I needed it?”

He places the bag on the countertop in your kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

“Because,” he sighs, “I saw your Instagram live and you were playing Elgar. You never play Elgar unless something’s really wrong.”

“I—that’s,” he pushes the bag toward you while you try to come up with a reason while he’s wrong, when he’s not.

You’ve had a habit of playing classical music when you were near your breaking point. It’s been a habit that you’ve had since you were 10, but concealed long before you started your time in the spotlight. While you were dating Taehyung, you were a depressed teenager and he was present for some of the worst times of your life. Several times he’d found you in your room or your parents’ car blasting tragic symphonies as accompaniment for bawling your eyes out. But that was years ago.

“You can eat it. I’m not hungry,” you finally say. He looks at you like he can tell you’re lying, but plays along and shrugs.

“Fine.” He opens the bag and pulls out some smaller plastic containers of food and a spoon.

“I didn’t mean here!”

He chuckles at your outburst, mumbling something about fame not changing you, before ambling out of the kitchen and through the rooms until he arrives at your bedroom. You find him about to sit on your bed and rush over.

“If you took the subway here, don’t even think about sitting on that bed.”

“What? Suddenly my subway clothes are too dirty for your bed?”

“Yes,” you huff. “The sheets alone cost me more than half a grand.”

“What the hell,” he jumps up like he’s been shocked. “Why would you spend that much on sheets?”

“They’re highly rated,” you admit with a small voice. “And they’re used by many foreign diplomats.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re so prissy.”

“We can’t all be members of a practical startup.” When his eyes widen in surprise, you curse yourself for letting him know you still keep tabs on him. “Besides. You used to like prissy.”

“Still do,” he gives you with a molten look that has you moving away from him and fluffing pillows to hide your flustered state.

“Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re hurting.”

“Maybe,” you throw your hands up. “But that’s not your job anymore.”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, parting the shiny waves carelessly. He’s not sure how to admit that he’s been making sure fame doesn’t eat you alive ever since you broke up with him to pursue your singing career. The memory of that day rings clear in his head even after five years of being split up.

Cliche as it sounds, it was a rainy night. You were at a meeting with Bee a few days before the entertainment label you were flirting with was going to give you the final version of your contract to sign.

Bee was never a huge fan of his, so Taehyung waited outside her office instead of interrupting the meeting to let you know he was there. But with the office door cracked, he could still hear the sounds of your conversation and the soft sounds of your sobs.

His blood grew cold when he heard what Bee was telling you. She told you starting this career with a relationship would hurt your numbers by making it impossible for your male fanbase to project their fantasies onto you because of the presence of another guy in your life. She told you if you were going to make it, you’d need to play up the role of sexy girlfriend to the audience members for the first album at least and that wouldn’t be possible if they got wind of Taehyung.

He covered his own mouth, barely fighting tears from welling up, listening as you tried to plead with Bee. Your voice was watery as you tried to convince her that you could make it without the girlfriend role. That you had enough work ethic and talent to do it. And when she didn’t budge, you said that you loved him and threatened to walk out right then if you had to break up with him. He listened to Bee tell you that you were being naive and that you’d be stupid to throw away all your opportunities for a boy.

And Bee was right.

So when you came outside minutes later with puffy eyes and a white knuckled grip on the sleeves of your sweater, he’d accepted his fate. He’d even accepted the lie you told him about having another guy on the side. Though you couldn’t produce a name when he asked who it was. Though you looked up at him like you wanted to take it all back. Though you leaned your forehead on his chest like you were in the greatest amount of pain. He accepted it all and walked away.

That is, if walking away meant that he created fake social media accounts so he could comment positive things on your first few interview videos and bought tickets to as many concerts he could when you were in the area. He never tried to make his presence known, just stood there and drank in how vibrant you looked when you were on stage and singing your heart out. It took a while for the jealousy to stop rearing its ugly head whenever he looked at how other people would show their adoration for you. By the time Nick came around, he was convinced he was content with how things were. But after seeing the way Nick’s cheating affected you, he had a hard time sitting still.

“Well, I’m not leaving until you feel better. So, you better start talking.”

“What is there to even say?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

You sigh and ignore him in favor of walking over to the large sofa in the corner of your room and collapsing on the large sofa face first. A dip in the cushions near you tells you he’s followed you and sat down. When you finally reveal your face, he’s peering down at you with a sad look in his eyes. The sad, sympathetic look that would always get you spilling your guts when you were still together. So you tell him everything.

It's almost embarrassing to tell him that you thought you loved Nick. At their best, things with Nick were comfortable and sometimes passionate, but it wasn’t anything close to love. Nothing close to what you had with Taehyung. And how could it have been when the reason you got together in the first place was because Bee thought you could ‘scratch each other’s backs’? Nick was not only handsome with the clean image Bee wanted for you, but you were writing and singing the theme song for the blockbuster movie he was to star in. It all seemed to work at first.

It only took one tabloid story suggesting that he was seeing some other younger and bustier actress behind your back to make you see that nothing you had with him was substantial. You brought the story up as a joke, thinking you could laugh about the way tabloids would do anything for story—even lie. As soon as you mentioned it to him, he denied it hastily and made a snide comment about not believing everything you see just because it’s technically press. After that, it was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly you couldn’t be in the same room together for more than 10 minutes without going at each other’s throats. The cheating rumors kept flaring up until they reached a peak a little more than 2 months ago, when someone anonymously submitted a video of him groping and kissing the same actress outside of a bakery in your hometown in broad daylight.

After watching the video about 15 times on the plane to Amsterdam, you concluded that even though he had long since established himself as a grade-A asshole in your mind, he was in mushy-love with this girl. You could tell from the sweet way he cradled her face while kissing her and how he took the extra step to block any potential cameras before giving her impressive rack a squeeze. Lucky for you, the video didn’t really evoke any messy emotions like jealousy. Instead there was just some satisfaction at having your suspicions confirmed and knowing he’d have to clean up this mess. You felt bad for the other actress, though. She was just starting out with mainly B movie roles and there was no telling whether the public would fillet her or ignore her altogether.

Taehyung has to sit on his hands to keep from rubbing your back you as you pour out all the things that had been stressing you out. What startles him is how stoic you are the whole time. When he first met you, you cried at the drop of a hat. It was endearing back then, but there’s no trace of it now. You sniffle a little when you talk about some of the vicious hate mail you received while in Amsterdam, but besides the shining eyes, that’s it. He clenches his jaw and wonders what you must have gone through in the last five years to have lost that quality.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles when the lull in the conversation is longer than he expected.

“It’s fine, I just,” you sniff again, wipe your eyes carefully. “I was really hoping that once the dating clause in my contract expired, things wouldn’t blow up in my face like this. And now I can’t go anywhere without people shoving mentions of Nick in my face. I just—it sucks. I just want to do what I want and I thought I’d earned that right but I guess not.”

“I don’t know. I think you’ve earned it. You’re grammy nominated this year, and you visited 13 countries this year alone.”

“What are you? President of my fan club?”

“Do I look like a 14 year old girl to you?”

You squint like you’re giving it some thought and he squawks.

“I’m just kidding,” you duck your head. “You’re, what, 226?” He laughs at the extra two centuries you’ve tacked on.

“You remember my birthday,” he smiles widely.

“Of course I do.” The way he looks at you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up so you change the subject. “Alright. I’ve done enough talking. Where’s my compensation?”

“You literally haven’t changed at all,” he says while fishing in the pockets of his dark wash denim jacket. It takes a few seconds and he has to pull a few balled up receipts and earphones out of the pockets but he eventually pulls out a fat blunt and brandishes it like a huge check.

Nose wrinkling, you push his hand out of your face. “Weed?”

“Yeah! You said you wanted a pick-me-up, right? And I just got this yesterday from a dispensary. This is the good, strong shit. Probably could compete with the stuff they have in Amsterdam.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Huh,” he furrows his brow while hunting for a lighter.

“I’ve never smoked so I wouldn’t know.”

“You mean you were in Amsterdam and you didn’t even try to smoke?”

“It’s bad for my voice,” you whine at his judgmental glare.

“Bullshit.”

“It smells like armpit,” you try again.

“There’s the prissy princess. Well, you should know that the only stuff that smells like that is the shit broke evil dealers peddle to broke college students.”

You roll your eyes, but sit up on your heels so you can pay closer attention. Taehyung flicks his lighter to life and lights up the end of the blunt. He takes a deep inhale before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. He gestures for you to take it, but you shake your head nervously.

“What’s the matter now?”

“I don’t know how to do it. What if I burn my lips?”

He squints at you, wondering how you can be such a baby. “The cherry’s not even on the side you put your mouth on.”

“Whatever! I’m still scared.”

“Do you want to try it, though?”

You gnaw at your lip thoughtfully and decide that you need to take your mind off everything for a while. “Y-yeah, I guess. I don’t have a studio session tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He scoots forward on the couch until your knees are just barely brushing. “I’ll shotgun it to you.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

He takes another drag, this time a little smaller, and holds the smoke in his mouth. Turning to you, he leans in until you can feel his bangs brush your forehead as he tilts his head to get the angle right. There’s about an inch of space between your mouths when he starts to let the smoke billow out of his mouth. You get the gist and try to inhale it as best as possible, but you’re new to it and he’s too far away for you to get the smoke.

“I’m not getting any,” your tone is petulant as the smoke floats up around your face.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is already feeling the effects of the strong blend he bought. He scoots forward once more and then turns to the side so he can take another drag. This next time, he grabs your jaw and brings you forward to meet him. Thumbing at your bottom lip, he coaxes your mouth open and slack before slotting his lips over yours. You feel the brush of the supple skin of his lips and it distracts you a bit, but this time you do manage to inhale most of the fumes. Your eyes drop closed as you hold the smoke in for as long as possible before letting your breath out.

“How was that,” Taehyung asks lowly. His lids have drooped to match his relaxed state. With the high slowly creeping over him, he ogles you unabashedly.

“It was okay. Do it again.”

He nods and quickly burns through the rest of the blunt, giving you the larger hits when he shotguns to you and taking slightly smaller drags for himself. To keep you nearby, his hand comes to rest heavily on the small of your back. You, still on your haunches, somehow end up straddling one of his thighs to stay close. Near the end of the blunt, you’re feeling a bit floaty and like the heat from the blunt transferred to your belly. Taehyung’s gaze feels tangible on you, like a firm-handed caress across all parts of you as he looks you over. Like smoke on your skin. You recognize the feeling as one you haven’t felt in a while and move to sit more properly in his lap.

“I want the last one,” you whisper while tugging on the collar of his jacket. The ends of his long hair tickle your fingers.

He nods and moves slowly to suck the roach dry. Once he’s close enough, you wait patiently. His nose grazes your cheek for a few long seconds before he finally turns to pass the smoke to you. You take it obediently and exhale but then grab him by the lapels to press your lips to his. His hands come up immediately to cup your face and pull you closer. You work your lips over his, drawing low groans from him as your tongue teases his.

“You smell good,” he says groggily between kisses.

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes.

His eyes flutter shut when you begin to press kisses to the column of his throat, your hands moving to unbutton the dress shirt he’s wearing underneath. He tries his best to keep up with you, but he gets slow when he’s high. So he settles for you being in charge, but does let his hands roam over your body.

A lot has changed since he last felt you like this. The strict gym regimen you employ to compliment choreography for songs has given you an amazing ass that he thought could only gaze at in pictures. And he had done quite a lot of that. Though he’s not sure how you would feel if he confessed to jerking off to some of your sexier music videos. He marvels at the feel of you and you’re pleasantly surprised when his hands come down heavy on your hips to grind you down onto his lap. A pleased hum leaves you and you reward him with kisses migrating lower, across the path of his now exposed torso. You leave the couch to sit between his spread knees on the floor. The button of his jeans is your last major obstacle and you still your hands over the waistband patiently.

“You get where I’m going with this, right?”

He nods his head, tongue coming out unconsciously to wet his lips at he takes in the sight of you on your knees in front of him.

“Do want you want me to...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at asking your ex if you could blow him.

“Do you? Want to?” His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over you cheekbone.

“Yeah?”

“Then, yeah.”

You move quickly to unbutton his pants and slide them down his thighs once he lifts his butt to assist you. He’s wearing boxers, which is a relief because you don’t want his bare ass on your very expensive couch, and the crotch opening provides easy access. With one hand, you smooth the wrinkles in his boxers over, noting the tent in the fabric and the dark stain where his head must be dribbling pre-cum. Your mouth is watering as you pull him out and test his girth and weight in your hand. Just the sight of his dick in your hand makes you want to swallow him down.

Before he can say anything else, you’re wetting his shaft with broad licks from root to tip. He grits his teeth and lets out a satisfied grunt at the way it feels when you tongue at his slit. You take him in until you just barely wrap your lips around the head, and he lets out a low moan at finally being enveloped in the wet, silken heat of your mouth.

“Can you do me a favor,” he manages to ask you despite the fact that stars are forming in the corner of his vision when you take him against the inside of your cheek.

“Hmm,” you hum around him, causing his hips to jolt up the tiniest amount.

“Can you spit on it?”

You smile in a way that can only be described as predatory and pull him out of your mouth. You spit like he asks, letting some drool pool on him as well, while he moans again and his hand comes out to smooth over your hairline. He’s more vocal than you remember and it gets you wet quickly. Before you stain anything, you kick off your stupid bedazzled leggings so you can return them to Bee in the morning.

“Shit,” he hisses when you start bobbing your head to a fast and unforgiving rhythm. You’re playing with him, you want to wring an orgasm out of him, and he can sense this. “Why don’t we take this s-slow?”

You pull off briefly. “Tae, I want you to fuck my face. That’s not well-suited to slow.”

“Isn’t that bad for your voice,” he mimics your tone from earlier.

You give him a pinch on his thigh before taking him into your mouth again and resuming your ministrations. Since you’re so focused on getting what you want, he decides to try and level the playing field and keeps his hip movements to a minimum and opts to talk through the head instead. He’s determined to get some clarity with you

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes deeply through the feeling of your saliva starting to trickle over him. The slide is getting slicker as you continue, making him lose his train of thought briefly. “So much.”

Instead of replying back with words, you just give a little acknowledging noise that’s too neutral to be a dissenting or affirming noise. He takes it in stride and continues.

“I still think about you all the time. And I—fuck—I’ve tried to date other people, but it’s just never felt quite the same way. You were the only one who understood me so well and who didn’t try to change me.”

His words wash over you and a wave of fondness hits you in a way that has you almost shy. You haven’t been shy in a long while because you couldn’t afford to be in your line of work. People were always trying to capture parts of you, and a great deal of them were trying to capture the uglier sides. There was no room to actually fear that for the last five years of your life because it was inevitable to a certain degree. But as you work over Taehyung, his words make you feel stripped down. You feel bare and small despite the fact that his words have nothing but good in them really.

“If I’m being honest,” he says and you slow your rhythm to stare at him, wondering what he could have to confess. “You might be even further out of my league than when we first met.” You sigh and pull off of him.

“Tae, come on. Give yourself some slack.”

“No, I mean it,” he sits up slowly, tongue heavy with earnestness as he tries to talk through the high. “It seems like you’ve only become more comfortable with yourself since you started singing and the way you move—it’s like you’re from another planet.”

“Oh my god,” your cheeks heat up when he looks at you like you have a halo and wings. “Stop, you’re being so unnecessary right now.”

“I still love you,” he says. The words fall from his mouth like he’s been dying to say them. “And I know you didn’t cheat on me when we were younger.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. To this day you still regretted lying to him like that. But deep down you knew that there was something off about his reaction. He didn’t seem shocked or nearly disappointed as you thought someone might be when they hear they’re being left for another person. Instead, he had just nodded and insisted on driving you home until Bee had to come out and promise him that she’d do it herself. The fact that he didn’t block you on social media or try to drag your name through the mud immediately after your debut made you wonder if he saw through your lie.

“How did you know?”

“I came early to pick you up that day. And I heard Bee tell you what to say to me. How to break up with me.”

“Tae, I’m so—”

He shushes you with a tender kiss to the cheek that’s so soft you’re rendered momentarily speechless.

“I know. It’s not your fault, they didn’t give you a choice.”

“I would have picked you if I could,” you mumble into the space between you. His hands feel like anchors on either side of your face and you cling to them in the hopes that you won’t cry. “I really would have. You don’t know how much I missed you.”

“I feel the same way. It killed me to see you with that Nick asshole.”

You smirk a little at the mention of Nick. “Aw. Were you jealous, Tae?”

He looks down at you for a second, reading your face carefully, before dropping one hand down from your cheeks to the nape of your neck. The weight of it reads as possessive on your skin and you lean forward unconsciously until you’re able to smell the faintly sweet smell of smoke on his clothes.

“You’d like it if I was, right?” His gaze hardens, setting your heartbeat into a rabbit-quick pace. “Hmm? You like me being jealous of him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Answer me.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do,” you nuzzle into his neck to hide the excited smile splitting your lips.

“I knew it. It’s pretty on-brand for you.”

He nudges your bare thigh to signal you need to get up and so you do. You’re about to ask him what the hell ‘on brand’ means for you when he bends down to throw you over his shoulder with a low grunt.

“Tae, what the hell!”

Your raised voice gets you a harsh tweak to the perky globe of your ass and immediately quiets you down. He walks with you to the bed before throwing you down. Not rough enough to hurt but just rough enough to surprise you and give a doe-eyed look to your face. When you look up at him, his charade has fallen a bit, eyes returning to their original sleepy softness.

“Is this how you want it,” he asks you.

His voice is deep and gentle, and it evokes a different but equally visceral reaction. You nod and then shuffle over to the edge of the bed and sit at the edge of the mattress, waiting to see where he’ll take the situation. He smiles darkly at you once more before placing a hand on the back of your head to lead to his crotch.

His erection stands taller than it did before on the couch and he digs his fingers into your hair when you plant sweet kisses on the juncture where his thigh meets groin. You look sweet like this—playful, even—as you mouth along his length with kitten licks interspersed. When you’re about to take him into your mouth once more, he fists your hair and pulls you off him. With your head angled up to look into his eyes, you see a new emotion in them.

“Look,” he sighs. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do the whole thing.”

“What, like sex?”

“No, I mean you and me. I want to be with you. I’ve made my peace with what happened between us, but I know I still love you. So, I’m asking you to decide if you’re willing to do that, to be with me. Because I can’t—”

“Yes.”

“What?” His eyes grow wider and take on an awestruck quality. Like he’s not sure he wants to believe what he heard from you. “Really?”

“I want to try again,” you curl your hands around his hips. Bringing him forward into a hug around his pelvis, you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and try to infuse as much reassurance as you can into your smile.

“You won’t get in trouble with your agency?”

You shake your head and curl your arms around his hips, bringing him into an awkward hug as you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and look up at him. “Nick was an exception because he and I were arranged by our respective agencies, but my dating clause expired last year. I can date who I want. Within reason.”

He throws his head back with the realization that he’ll get a second chance with you. The hand he has on the back of your head softly caresses the skin of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he breathes with eyes drifting closed in contentedness.

“Good. Now can we get back to this? You were being fun earlier.”

“Yeah?” His tone turns gravelly and coy as he coaxes you back towards his dick. “Are you ready to choke?”

You can only nod as you take him in gradually, only for him to wait until you get halfway and push your head further down. You gag around him at the sudden pressure at the back of your throat, but shift your breathing through your nose to get a better handle on it. He pulls you by the hair until you’re at the tip again before slamming you back down, your nose nearly brushing the skin of his abdomen. You gag and the sound causes him to thicken in your mouth and a rush of arousal to trickle down into your panties.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he moans as he begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. You can tell he’s close from how irregular the rhythm is. “Can you try to deep throat me?”

After you give an affirmative hum and relax your throat as best you can, he takes your face in both hands and starts to pull you up and down his length, going further each time until he knows he’s in your throat from the sudden tightness of you swallowing and the increase in gagging. Saliva is now dripping from your mouth, coating him and your chin, but you don’t care. Your eyes tear up at the burning sensation, but you can also feel your arousal trickle down your leg as he fucks your mouth more intensely. Right as you press two fingers to your clothed center for some relief, he gives you a tapped warning on your neck and his orgasm spills into your mouth.

He quickly pulls off his jacket and shirt, handing the latter to you to wipe your eyes and mouth with. Once your face is dry, he tucks himself back in and climbs around you into the bed. You turn to watch him fold back your blankets and throw the pillows you have all to the foot of the bed, leaving the space by the headboard. Taehyung then lies down, head where your pillows once were.

“Going to sleep already?” Your voice comes out in a sultry croak that has him laughing a little.

“No, I’m getting ready for you to sit on my face,” he says simply.

When you don’t budge, he sits up and pulls you by the arms toward him. You try to escape him, but his grip just tightens the more you protest.

“Tae, wait, I’m not—”

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not...presentable. Down there.” You avert your eyes as you explain to him that it's been a since you were last at a spa to get waxed. You figured since you weren’t seeing Nick anymore and you were mandated by your PR crew to wait at least 4 months after a breakup, there was no need to keep up with such a strict...landscaping routine. He rolls his eyes and moves to pull on the waistband of your panties to peek in and see what you mean, but you shove him away.

“Do you think I actually care?”

“Do you really not?”

“No? Unless you have some disease or infection, what’s the issue?”

“I’m clean,” you pout.

“Good,” he says before placing a kiss on your lips.

While you’re distracted by the kissing, he maneuvers you into straddling his waist before pulling back. Reluctantly, you shuffle up to hover over his ribcage and shyly grab the headboard. He huffs.

“You know I can’t reach you from there. It’s called sitting on someone’s face for a reason.”

He nudges your butt until the seat of your panties lines up with his jaw. He sees a few errant curls peeking out from the leg holes of your panties, so he uses a finger to push your underwear to the side to get a better look. What’s unsurprising is that it still looks like a vagina, though it had been a while since his last non-bald encounter. He doesn’t care, though, and cups your butt in his hands to move you the rest of the way.

The broad strip he licks up from your entrance to your clit takes you by surprise and because you were wound up so tight from a combination of nerves and horniness from blowing him, you let out a high keening sound. Taehyung chuckles beneath you before using his full lips to kiss at the apex of your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue scrubs figure eights against the bundle of nerve endings and has you squirming over him. More arousal leaks from you and he shifts to drink from you, humming and slurping obscenely. He then starts to lick at you in earnest, tracing strategic shapes across your lips and sucking with varying pressures and paces until you start rocking over him on your own accord.

“That’s my girl,” he praises you from below. “Now, ride my face,” he says before flattening his tongue and pressing up to meet your tentative grinding thrusts.

The combination of saliva and your arousal makes the glide smoother than you expected and it feels so good that one of your hands leaves the headboard to fist in his thick hair. He moans a little at the faint sting and wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs to press you against him harder. His tongue dips into your entrance occasionally, chasing the flavor of your arousal, trying not to let any of your juices go to waste. You bite your lip to trap the wanton moans trying to escape you, but Taehyung realizes what you’re doing and gives you another sharp swat to the bottom to coax them out, mumbling against the inside of your thigh not to hide from him anymore.

As you start to move more desperately above him, he attempts to fuck you more purposefully with his tongue. It’s just enough that in a dozen more swivels of your hips, you’re cumming all over his face, soaking his cheeks with a glistening varnish. You try to move as quickly as possible, but he stops you with a tight hold on your hips and licks you clean. You squirm away, partly because you’re sensitive and partly because he’s so enthusiastic about it that you’re a little bashful.

Finally he lets you get off him, but he doesn’t let you get too far. He follows you and almost makes it into the en suite with you, but you close the door at the last moment. You pee and clean up and when you come out, you feel like a weight has been lifted. Taehyung looks infinitely more sober lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers, eyes bright and hair messy as he tries to figure out which remote will turn on your speakers.

You stand by the bed and watch him for a while. He turns to you innocently and holds the remotes in his two hands with confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you approach your closet and take off your borrowed sweatshirt before looking for your favorite well-worn sweatsuit. “You’re just so pretty.”

“You’re prettier,” he shouts over to you. He can’t see you inside your closet, but you’re smiling like an idiot.

When you’re fully changed, you go to the bed and lean over him to kiss him. He still smells like you and you tell him so, to which he responds with a grin and subtly licking his lips.

“So when do you want me to tell the public about you?”

“Whenever you want,” he shrugs.

“Really? Because there’s a good chance you won’t be able to live your life the same way you have been once I do that.”

“Then it’ll just change. I would expect it to if you’re coming back into my life again.”

“Oh my god, you’re so—”, you’re at a loss for words.

You decide to crawl into his space and pepper kisses into his skin. He smells like a strange blend of you and him, but the smell is reassuring in some way unknown to you. You sit there for the rest of the night, breathing him in like smoke

#bscproject #bangtan bookclub #bttnetwork #95line.net #kimtaehyung.net #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts smut #bts fanfic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic

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shutupandshipit · 4 years ago

Text

Live Stream - Oneshot

Summary: Everyone knew that if you wanted to have sex or needed help through you heat/rut, you went to Midoriya.

Or where Midoriya is promiscuous and a cam girl, and Kirishima is an avid viewer who catches part of a live stream that wasn't meant to be live.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: M

Notes: More outside POV for BakuDeku! I told y'all that I wasn't going to stop. I might expand on this one later, just because I love a good shameless slut character (because there's nothing shameless about enjoying sex). Also, I love a good cam girl fic.

Aaaaanyway, I've got Kiri's POV this time for you to partake in. Hope y'all enjoy! See you in my next one!

Everyone knew that if you wanted to have sex or needed help through you heat/rut, you went to Midoriya. He was the unapologetic slut of the school with a never ending stream of lovers to entertain him. Even the teachers knew about his exploits, but never did anything about it simply due to the decrease of rut and heat related attacks. They promised though that if a pregnancy occurred or there was a sudden rash of STIs, there would be repercussions.

Midoriya had taken the warning in stride and shrugged it off. He had told Kirishima time and time again that he had no plans of getting pregnant so early in his life and career.

Everyone also knew that he only took credit for having sex with you. If it ruined any relationship you may have been in, well then that was your problem.

Midoriya had a few simple questions he asked you and rules that you had to follow if you so happened to partake in his services.

1) No touching. For the duration of your session, your hands would be tied to his headboard. That was non-negotiable. The rule was in place for his protection more than yours. This was sometimes relaxed when it came to friends of partners he saw frequently and trusted enough to know what they were allowed to do.

2) No biting. Being tied to the headboard, it was harder to accomplish than normally, but if you made any attempt to do so, you'd be out of his room whether you'd gotten off or not. He expected you to find control even in a heat/rut haze. If you couldn't control yourself, you had no right being in his bed. There were no exceptions.

3) A condom would be used at all times. He didn't take it raw or suck dick without protection. It was simple as that.

4) Do not involve emotions. It wasn't his fault if you caught feelings for him, and he would not take responsibility for them. Sex with him was a no strings attached, purely physical transaction. He was a bunny omega after all with a sexual appetite that couldn't be satisfied by one singular person, so there was no room to get butt hurt about any other partners the frequented his bed.

5) Do not, under any circumstances, ask about his heat or offer your services during his heat. If you did, you were liable to have your ass verbally flayed and all contact with him cut immediately.

6) Rule 6 was probably the most important of all. You would be recorded and posted on his cam channel. Only your lower half would be shown. Your face would never be recorded. If you weren't okay with that or refused to sign his release form, you wouldn't make it passed his threshold.

His questions were simple as well.

1) Were you clean? This included drugs, STIs and any contagious sickness you may have at the time.

2) Were you in your heat/rut?

3) Had you ever had sex before?

He didn't ask if you were in a relationship because he didn't care. It was your choice to meet with him, so you were liable for any consequences caused by your actions. So if something did happen, you weren't allowed to come crying to him.

The last thing everyone knew was that he spent his heat alone. Or at least, if he did have someone he shared them with, no one knew who it was.

Kirishima knew all of this from personal experience. Even though he and Mina were together, it was hard to satisfy his alpha with another alpha, and the same went for her. So, they both employed Midoriya's services pretty often, both alone and together. They were one of the only couples Midoriya featured, and it had shot his popularity through the roof after the first video he did with them.

He offered a kick back of any money he made from his videos, but from what Kirishima knew, people rarely took him up on his offer. All the money he made went to his mother and omega related foundations. He was in it to satisfy his omega, and the money was simply a byproduct.

Kirishima had asked Midoriya once how much his partners would receive if they did take his offer, and the amount had floored him. He hoped all those foundations put his donations to good use.

It always surprised him exactly how popular Midoriya was on the internet.

Then again, sitting in his room with his laptop open on his stomach, nodding off as he waited for Midoriya's Friday live stream to begin, he could see the chat room already filling. 1,000 turned into 2,000 turned into 3,000, and just kept ticking. A countdown ran down on the screen, and people had already begun tittering away in the chat.

Kirishima wondered if the entire school was watching. He knew at least half of his class was. That's why the dorm was always so quiet on Fridays save for the sounds coming from Midoriya's room.

Just like every Friday at exactly 8 o'clock, the stream went live. Midoriya sat on his bed in front of a black back drop and on top of creamy white sheets, knees splayed out to his sides. He wore pure white lace panties and garter belt. Encasing his arms and legs were silvery metallic support sleeves that his garter belt clipped onto. A half face bunny mask covered the upper portion of his face. A white wig to match the white tuft of his tail covered his very recognizable green hair. The green fur of his ears had been sprayed with temporary white dye that would wash out when he showered.

When he was on his channel, he became Snow Bunny, beloved omega of the cam world.

Despite who he filmed with, not everyone who watched his channel knew who he was, and he did what he could to hide his identity.

Granted, if you asked him, he would say that society should normalize sex in relation to heroes. They could be sex icons in their own right, but if they were actually caught having sex or with multiple partners, it was a scandal. He wasn't really that concerned if his channel was discovered later in his career, but right now, it wouldn't do him any favors.

Kirishima commended him on that because he just wasn't that brave or confident.

"Hi, everyone! Oh my gosh, there's so many of you! I feel so lucky and blessed! Oh, no, no. I've got a guest here with me tonight. Not going solo today," Midoriya said in a sweet, high voice that was several octaves above his normal speaking voice, answering one of the flurry of questions in the chat. He peered at the screen intently, smiling widely. "Thank you 'johnfromohio' for the tip! I'm so grateful. How was everyone's week? Wonderful, I hope. I know mine was."

Midoriya was lying, at least Kirishima assumed he was. The class had spent the week getting their asses handed to them during training as was evident by the various stages of bruising across his torso and backs. They extended beneath his support sleeves as well. At some point, Recovery Girl had started to refuse to heal him day after day, hoping to curve his reckless behavior, but it hadn't worked quite yet.

On screen. Midoriya spread his legs, giving the camera a healthy view of his dick straining against the white lace. "Oh, don't worry about the bruises, loves! They're all healing well, and I got them all in good fun." He winked, smiling enough so that his canines poked out over his bottom lip.

Midoriya -or rather, Snow Bunny- was the most popular cam omega on the internet. It seemed unlikely. There were hundreds of other bunny omegas that worked as cam omegas that could have been just as famous, but none of them looked like Midoriya. Where he was toned and muscular, his counterparts had the bodies typical of omegas. Thin and reedy and lacking all muscular definition. Soft where he was deceptively hard.

Not only that, but his dick was more akin to the size of an average betas rather than tiny like most male omegas were. His fangs were not those typical for his second gender either. Sharp and pointy though still small, could cause damage if given the opportunity.

If Midoriya didn't slick and go through heat, he would have been a beta. Or even an alpha. He exuded the presence and confidence of an alpha. A wolf in sheep's clothing, praying on unsuspecting and willing alphas. Satisfying omegas when he shouldn't be able to.

He was a conundrum that Kirishima avidly virtually partook in most nights, sometimes alone, sometimes with Mina, sometimes with the other guys.

Except for Bakugou who never stuck around long enough for a video to load. Kirishima wasn't sure if he even watched porn or had seen any of Midoriya's exploits. Let alone enjoyed his bed. Their relationship was better than it had been before, but they still got into arguments that ended with destruction of property. He wasn't sure what Bakugou did during his ruts, but he thought they must have been lonely.

Even now, Bakugou would have been settling down for the night. Either reading a book or something else to wind down before bed.

Just like Kirishima should have been doing. The day had been long and grueling, and tomorrow promised to be more of the same. Still, he wanted to watch the stream.

He blinked several times, trying to clear the tiredness from his eyes as Midoriya smiled into the camera and turned to show off a crystal white as snow nestled between his cheeks.

"I'm all ready to go, loves, but this is for someone else. I've got to introduce my guest for tonight." He moved aside to flip the blanket off two pale legs. A thin, long tail of coarse yellow fur flicked back and forth across the mattress. "I found this little kitten omega all alone in the rain today and thought I'd be nice enough to bring him home and play for a bit." He trailed his nails over bare thighs that trembled under his touch. The tail swept faster.

Kirishima huffed, grinning. Now he knew why Kaminari had blown him off for the night.

Midoriya continued talking, dipping his fingers between Kaminari's trembling thighs. They came away dripping, and he licked away the slick to a pitiful moan.

Kirishima's eyes were itchy and each time he blinked, it got harder to keep them open. He scrubbed at them, but to no relief.

Even as Midoriya lovingly flipped Kaminari onto his stomach and hiked up his hips, he felt himself dozing off. When he came to with a jolt, the screen of his computer was dark and the dorms were quieter than usual.

Scrambling to log back in, he groaned when he saw the time. 11:54 PM. He'd slept through the entire stream and then three hours after it. He was the only one left logged into the chat. He was about to turn off his computer for the night when the stream loaded again.

It hadn't been shut off like it normally was at the end of a live stream, and Midoriya's moans slipped from his speakers. The shot was only from the waist down, but everything important was visible.

Strong muscled legs were bent in half as long elegant fingers clutched at Midoriya's ass. The pair slowly rocked together, unhurried in their movements. His fluffy white tuft of a tail betrayed his frantic pleasure, twitching each time his partner pushed into him.

This new person certainly wasn't Kaminari, desperate and scrambling for his climax. If that wasn't the biggest indicator, the other red flag was the fluffy blond wolf's tail that curled around the back of Midoriya's trembling thigh. He lay on top of his new partner, the knee that was visible planted firmly in the mattress.

There wasn't a hair's breath between them, and Kirishima felt like he was violating Midoriya's privacy even as he slowly came to full attention in his boxers. He ignored his hard on, more interested in figuring out who was held so intimately beneath everyone's favorite omega. If Midoriya did one thing constantly, it was keep distance between him and his partners, even when having sex.

When the pair finally came, it was together and quiet with long moans of pleasure followed by the gentle sounds of kissing. They didn't part, just lying still with one another.

It was several long moments of Kirishima's heart splitting his store of blood between his face and groin before they finally spoke.

"Mm," Midoriya hummed, shifting on top, but not moving away, "If this dries, we're going to be stuck together forever." His voice was low and slow, barely a whisper. Kirishima only heard him because everything else was absolutely silent, as if the dorm was holding its breath in the face of their intimacy.

A deep chuckle joined his voice, and Kirishima startled. That laugh was all too familiar even distorted and drenched with sex.

"Too late. You're already stuck with me forever," his partner said, and that voice was all Bakugou.

Kirishima sat straight up in bed, catching his laptop before it could tumble off the side. If he hadn't been blushing before, he definitely was now. He was blushing so hard he could feel his pulse in his cheeks. "Bakugou?" he hissed incredulously, still staring at the screen.

"Why don't you ever ask me to be on your stream?" Bakugou asked. Just a question without the usual demand in his voice.

Midoriya hummed again. "I didn't think you would want to be. You don't watch my videos. I thought you'd be too worried about, you know, everything else. Also..." He trailed off, voice considering as he sat up and slowly lifted himself off Bakugou. Cum and slick trickled from Midoriya's entrance and down the inside of his thigh. They both hissed at the sensation of their uncoupling, and Kirishima flinched in sympathy.

They settled back together, Midoriya's back to the camera and Bakugou's leg hooked over his to pull them closer.

"Also?"

"Also, this is... just for me. They get everything else, but you... You're my beautiful, amazing alpha that I get to have all to myself. You're private. Just for me. I like it that way."

Bakugou hummed, the sound slowly becoming a purr. "Yeah, I like it that way too," he agreed gruffly, "When does your heat start? My rut is in a few days."

Midoriya laughed. "I don't know why you keep checking. We've been synced up since we presented."

As Kirishima watched, the number of people viewing ticked up from 1 to 5.

Before he knew what he was doing, he launched himself from his bed and to his door. Sprinting down the hall and stairs to the second floor, he listened closely as the pair made plans just in case they said anything too incriminating. Without knocking, he slammed into Midoriya's dim room lit only by the light from the laptop. He stood there for the briefest moment, confused about whose name to call. "B-Bunny!"

His own voice echoed back to him from his laptop a millisecond later.

"What?" Midoriya shouted in surprise.

Bakugou pulled him close and sat up, pulling a blanket over them. "What the fuck? You ever hear of knocking, asshole?" he shouted, rage and murder clear on his face, "Why do you have you computer? And why are you hard? Get the fuck out!"

"Your- Uh- The, uh, stream is still live. It never got cut," Kirishima stammered, face so hot he could have sworn he'd become another light source, "I was the only one still logged on, but it's filling back up again pretty quickly." The counter was already reached 300 viewers again.

Horror filled Midoriya's face, and he scrambled from Bakugou's hold, skirting around the view of the camera. Bakugou followed his lead, pressing himself back against the headboard as Midoriya shut the computer off from its power button. The whir of its fan slowly died away leaving only Kirishima's humming computer.

"Close the door, Kirishima, please. I, um, need to log on on your computer if you don't mind so I can see what kind of damage there is and properly shut everything down," Midoriya said calmly, but his hands were trembling and it was quickly spreading to the rest of his body.

"Sure thing," Kirishima blurted, turning his back as Bakugou stood from the bed and wrapped Midoriya in a blanket before turning him into his chest.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I-I swear. I just can't believe I made that mistake. What if someone saw your face? What if I said your name?" Midoriya rambled, and a twinge of pain shot through Kirishima's chest at the worry in his voice, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Bakugou murmured. When Kirishima turned back to them, Bakugou had his arms wrapped around the omega, chin resting on the top of his curly green hair right between his ears. "So what if people saw? They just know that you're mine now. I'm the one who gets the truest version of you."

"But what if-"

"Stop with the what ifs, shitty Deku. Let's find out first if there's anything to be worried about." Bakugou jerked his head to the desk that had been moved earlier into the middle of the room, and Kirishima carefully moved Midoriya's laptop out of the way and set the camera stand off to the side facing the wall. After, he retreated to the far wall.

Midoriya, still bundled tightly in Bakugou's arms as they sat on the edge of his bed, went to work.

A lifetime passed as he combed through the comments from the stream and watched parts of the video before he finally sighed and slumped back against Bakugou's chest. Relief shone clear as a sunny day on his freckled face. "I don't think anyone saw us. And our faces didn't make it on screen, which is a miracle, but if anyone did see and knows our nicknames, well..."

Bakugou shrugged more calmly than Kirishima thought he was capable of. "Then the cat's out of the bag. We're almost graduated. I'm surprised they haven't figured it out yet, but then again, they are all dipshits."

"But-"

"Before you say something that's just going to piss me off, I don't care. We've been faking it for almost two years. I'm tired of having to sneak around and pretend like you're not my mate. So, fuck it. We were going to go public after graduation anyway."

If Kirishima felt like an intruder before, he felt like a proper interloper now as he watched Midoriya stare lovingly up at the alpha, nose twitching wildly as tears filled his eyes.

"Aw, fuck, Deku, don't start crying. You're going to kick start your heat early if you do. I don't think you want Shitty Hair seeing all of that."

Eyes widening and ears standing at attention, Midoriya spun towards Kirishima. "Sorry, Kiri! Thank you though. For letting me use your computer and warning us. I don't know what would have gotten out if you hadn't told us about the stream. I'm really, really grateful. I'll do anything to repay you."

Kirishima's face reddened again at the honest sincerity on Midoriya's face and the way his alpha paced restlessly in his chest. He waved his hands through the air wildly. "You don't have to thank me, I'm just glad everything's alright." He ducked his head in deference as he drew closer to the pair to gather up his computer and Bakugou's warning snarl filled the room. Backing away quickly, he smiled. "I'm going to go back to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Making a break for the door, he just caught the moment when Bakugou buried his face in the crook of Midoriya's neck and his growl turned into a contented purr. Midoriya giggled as he closed the door.

The next morning without any help from Kirishima, the entire class knew that Bakugou and Midoriya were mates. They were discussing them over breakfast before the pair even appeared, those who had caught the last minutes of the stream speaking the loudest. When they came down, they ignored the others, but didn't pretend like everything was normal. They were completely drenched in each others pheromones and could, for the life of them it seemed, not keep their hands to themselves. Kirishima could of sworn that every time he looked at them, they were pressing close for another kiss.

Spurred on by his friends' show of affection, he nuzzled Mina's neck. She buried his hand in his hair, but continued with her conversation with Momo.

He wondered if the pair were putting on a show, but suspected that this was just how they had always acted behind closed doors. Their affection was as natural as breathing. They were two planets orbiting each other.

He wished that coming out had been on their own terms, but either way, he couldn't have been happier for them.

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jeonsduck · 5 years ago

Text

Smoke and Mirrors pt 6

Y/N puts 2 and 2 together

warngings: cursing, kidnapping, mentions of blood and death

You had said you weren’t going to make anything official until after you finished the case. You were going to keep it professional. That didn’t even last 24 hours. In your defense, San was hot and really good at fucking you and to be honest, you didn’t want to wait until the investigation was over. Which was how you often found yourself bent over either your or San’s desk at work. Or spread out on the backseat of his car, or anywhere he could convince you to let him put his hand down your pants. And he tried it a LOT. The guy was like a machine, but honestly you weren’t complaining. And it wasn’t just sex either. San had started buying you gifts, very expensive gifts. If the lunch he bought you the first time you met qualified as a bribe, you’d hate to see what the administration thought of the designer laptop bag, shoes, coat, and jewelry. You didn’t dare go shopping with San anymore, because if you looked at anything for longer than two seconds, he would buy it for you.

“Mhm, I could come home with you again and we could rack up some more noise complaints from your neighbors.” San offered.

You were perched on his lap, reviewing your files. Correction: trying to review your files. San was pressing wet kisses to the sensitive spot on your neck and his hand was already under your shirt, so it was very hard to focus. You squirmed when he bit at the junction between your shoulder and your neck, barely holding in a yelp.

“Sannie, stop it.”

He chuckled, but his hooked his head over your shoulder innocently and tightened his hold on your waist.

“So what do you think?” he murmured, playing with a strand of your hair.

“I think that sounds very tempting, but we both have work to do right now. Besides, I have to go to the FBI and talk to Agent Heejin and pretend that I’m not fucking you.” you said, squinting at the papers in front of you.

These were the notes you made when you had that fever and were totally out of your mind, and none of it made any sense. You might need to go back and look at the original documents…

“First of all, baby, I’m the one that fucks you, let’s keep that straight. Second, that’s gonna be pretty hard with a hickey the size of Mexico isn’t it?” San whispered in your ear, making a shiver run down your neck.

“What hickey are you talking abo- hey!” you jolted when San nipped at your neck before starting to suck a bruise into the flesh.

“Hey, stop it!” you batted at his arm and got up. San held you tighter, resting his head on your back.

“I’m sorry, I was just fooling around don’t leave. It’s so boring in this room without you.” he pouted and you sighed.

“I’d love to, but I need to go get some original documents from the file room. I’ll see you later.” You said, removing San’s arms from your waist,

He grumbled but let you go without putting up anymore of a fight. He did grab your wrist and drag you back against him to peck you on the lips one last time. You rolled your eyes and left before he could get another crazy idea to keep you in his office. When you passed by Keran’s desk, she was wearing noise canceling headphones. Oops.

There was something seriously wrong with the records that were in front of you. You were looking at all the guys payments for San’s accounting services. The payments were made once a week, way too often for something that should be billed monthly. The amount was the same every time, but the frequency was way too high. San’s services could be expensive, sure but this number was astronomical. And then there was the amount that was being paid to Yunho and Mingi for security services. Similarly, the amount was way too high, payments too frequent. And the money wasn’t being sent from commercial accounts, but personal ones. What the hell…

“Y/N, it’s time to go! We shouldn’t keep your FBI Agent waiting.” San said, poking his head in your office. You startle and shove the pages between your laptop before snapping it closed.

“Yeah, let’s head out.”

While you didn’t have a huge hickey on your neck, Agent Heejin did recognize San’s car when it pulled into the lot.

“I honestly don’t even know where to BEGIN with the mess you’re in right now, but since your investigation hasn’t turned up any suspicious activity yet and I don’t think it will, I won’t waste my breath.” she sighed, slamming a manila folder down on her desk. It flopped open and a large full page picture fell out. It was a tattoo, partially covered in blood. It looked hauntingly familiar, but with the blood covering it, you couldn’t be sure.

“Wait, I think I’ve seen that tattoo before…” you said, stopping Heejin before she put it back in the folder.

“Really? Where?”

“I’m not sure, there’s so much blood. Can I take a picture of it?” you asked, and Heejin held the page out.

“Yeah sure. Let me know if you remember where you saw it?” she says as you snap a picture of the page.

“Of course. See you next week.” you said, making your exit.

The whole way back to your apartment you were thinking about the tattoo. It was so very familiar. Where had you seen it before?

San always let you invite him up instead of just following you into your apartment. You called him up, even though you didn’t have any ulterior motives tonight. San was fine with that, just as content to cuddle you and Noodles on the couch while you watched Chopped reruns.

San was playing with your hair, and you got tired pretty quickly. At this point San had a couple changes of clothes at your place in case he stayed the night. A few more weeks of this and he might get his own toothbrush holder. You snorted at your joke as you walked back into your bedroom, to find San laying face down on your bed, petting Noodles. You eyes drifted to his left shoulder, his tattoo out on display because he tended to sleep with his shirt off. Suddenly, you were hit with a series of flashbacks. The tattoo that curled up Keran’s arm, the flash of ink you’d seen on Wooyoung’s stomach when you met him. The bloodied image of a tattoo on your phone. They were different, obviously adapted for different parts of the body and each customer’s preference, but they were essentially the same tattoo. Why did San Wooyoung, and Keran have the same tattoo as a dead person in an FBI file? Were they really triad members?

“Babe, is something wrong? Come to bed.” San smiled over his shoulder at you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you tried to call Agent Heejin but she didn’t answer. You left at least 10 messages, but nothing. In between calls you continued to review that discrepancies you’d discovered. Yeosang’s jewelry business was making huge sales on extremely generic pieces of jewelry. The security firm was getting payments from random small businesses across town. Laundromats, tattoo parlors, restaurants. Not the calibre of clients they usually catered to. All of the companies Seonghwa was contracted to were shell companies. And strangest of all were the huge sums of money being paid too and from Hongjoong, by San. You couldn’t see where this money was going, not without looking at San’s financial records.

Technically, what you’d already seen gave you the right to look at San’s records as well. But for some reason you were terrified.

When you think back on it, deep down , some part of you knew the truth. Not the whole truth, not yet, but you knew San wasn’t the innocent ball of sunshine you thought him to be. And you also knew it was going to be a struggle to present this new knowledge without San finding out. And if the ship started sinking, he’d know it was you who sold him out. And you had no idea how powerful San was, didn’t know how deep his pockets were, what all he could do.

So, you pulled down the box of San’s records, opened a binder and got to work.

When you left work that day, you acted as normally as possible. You had the binder of San’s records as well as the others in your bag and you pretended it wasn’t weighing you down like a rock.

San kissed you goodbye when he dropped you off, and you kissed him back. You went upstairs and watched his car drive away. Then you grabbed your keys and ran back down to your car. You hadn’t turned in over in weeks, maybe a few months now. You peeled out of the parking lot as fast as you dared to and sped to the FBI Headquarters. You kept glancing in your rearview mirrors, afraid that you would see San’s car behind you.

When you parked at Heejin’s office building, there was a moment where you sat there, thinking about what you were about to do. You liked San a lot. A lot a lot. But this was your job. And you didn’t really know him, not really. The more you thought about it, the more you realized. You’d never even set foot in San’s apartment. He had access to you 24/7.

Suddenly your phone rang, startling you. The screen lit up with a picture of San you’d taken a while ago when he hadn’t wanted to get out of your bed on a Saturday. Noodles was curled into his side.

You breathed in, sent his call to voicemail, and put your phone on silent. You breathed out, grabbed your files and got out of the car.

“Let’s do this , Y/N.”

When you got up to Heejin’s floor you were surprised to find she wasn’t at her desk. One of her coworkers saw you come in and smiled sadly.

“You looking for Heejin?”

“Yeah, is she out.”

“We had an emergency on a big case last night. Heejin got hit and…. She’s dead.” they said solemnly.

You felt off kilter. What? “Yeah it’s really shocking. But weren’t you just here yesterday?” they asked.

“I found something.” you said, holding up your binders.

They quirked an eyebrow and led you to a conference room. You explained the discrepancies in the financial records and what you knew about the tattoo. You didn’t mention the fact that you’d been sleeping with San.

“Well, it’ll probably be a few days before they hand this case over to someone else, but as soon as they do, I’ll give them this. In the meantime, be careful about that accountant.” they said.

It was out of your hands now. You just didn’t know what to do about San. You were spared from agonizing over that detail when two strange men approached you. Same uniform as San’s bodyguards, but different men. You could see a tattoo peeking out from under the collar of one man’s shirt. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. How did they know?

You turned and broke into a sprint, running the opposite direction. They walked leisurely towards you, and you ran straight into someone else as you came around the corner. Wooyoung.

“Where are you going in such a rush, hmm?” he drawled.

The next thing you know, your had a black hood shoved over your head and were being dragged across the parking lot. You struggled, but whoever had a hold of you was strong, and you were unable to even get one hand free.

“Help! Let me go, HELP!” you yelled and heard Wooyoung chuckle.

“Don’t shout yourself hoarse. There’s no one around to hear you.” he admonished and you writhed again, trying to get loose.

It was futile, the person carrying you hauling you up and into the trunk of a car.

“San’s gonna kill us for putting them in the trunk.” Jongho’s voice said.

“We can deal with San later.” Wooyoung replied.

You heard two car doors open and close, and the car started. You tried to keep track of how many turns the car was taking, but panic was slowly taking over, and you couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the odds of them killing you.

After who knows how long, the car came to a stop and you relaxed slightly. The trunk was opened and you were hauled out, assumingly by Jongho. He set you on your feet and started dragging you… somewhere. The hood was still on your head, and you nearly tripped on a step on the floor.

“Oh, whoops. Here, there’s a step.” Jongho said.

Okay, so maybe your survival chances were higher than you thought. It felt like you walked for a long time before Jongho finally sat you in a chair. Your hands and ankles were tied to keep you in place and the hood was finally taken off. You squinted at the harsh white light, trying to shield your eyes with your shoulder.

“I thought we had a deal. You’re always supposed to answer if I call.” San said.

Your eyes focused to see him looking like a James Bond villain, sitting behind a large desk petting Noodles. How did he get Noodles?

“How did you-?” you started but San cut you off with a chuckle.

“I’ve had a key to your apartment for months now. Not that I need one to get in. But that’s beside the point. You didn’t pick up when I called.” San said.

“So, what you kidnapped me because I didn’t answer your call?” you asked.

“No, I kidnapped you because you were about to sell us out. My baby is very smart, aren’t you?” he says, standing up and walking around the desk to hold you by your chin.

“So you are triad.” you sneer.

“Mmmm, not exactly. But we are criminals.” he said.

San let that sink in for a moment and you scowled at him.

“Did you kill Agent Heejin?” you asked.

“No, I didn’t. I didn’t even send the order for that. That was Hongjoong. Your old supervisor on the other hand….” he trailed off.

“She’s been missing for weeks… you killed her? Why?” you asked.

“She made you cry, that day I came to visit you at the office.” he explained, like it was a simple chain of events to follow.

“Oh my God, you’re fucking sick.” you say, but San just laughs sharply.

“No, what was sick was what I did to your coworker.” he corrected.

You stared at him, blankly, processing his words.

“You killed Jacob? You did that- HE WAS MY FRIEND, YOU BASTARD!” tears quickly sprung to your eyes, and San wiped them away with his thumbs. You jerked your face out of his hold, but you could only go so far away. He tutted at you, holding you still so he could clear the tears from your cheeks,

“Hold still. I know he was your friend but.. I didn’t know, I’m sorry baby. I really am.” he said.

It was true, he felt awful about killing Jacob. San had killed a lot of people and rarely felt guilt for it. But for him, he really was sorry.

“He didn’t even do anything to me. Why’d you kill him?” you screeched, but San didn’t even flinch.

“He- I thought he was trying to make a move on you. You’re mine, Y/N.” San said with conviction.

You stared blankly at him.

“No I don’t San.”

San growled, tipping your head back.

“Yes you are. Your entire life belongs to me.” he said.

“Good luck controlling me from prison”, you snarled back.

San chuckled at that. He pet your hair, smiling down at you.

“Oh, baby… I’m not going to jail.” San said.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. The evidence I handed over was pretty compelling.” you said, and San couldn’t help it, laughing at you.

“Darling, who do you this was the ‘higher-up’ asking for you to be on this case? Baby, who do you think started this investigation?” he drawled.

You stared at him in shock, but how did he do that? How long had San been watching you?

“I’m the one in charge here, and don’t you ever forget that.”

#ateez #san #ateez san #choi san x reader #choi san #ateez x reader #san fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios

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