#today has been hell and a half and on top of that I am disappointed by the show

[santay]

.

[mrsmandalorian]

meeting your parents

--cowboy!joel x techie!f!reader

-one-shot in the city lights, country nights series

summary: a year into your relationship, your mother learns about your relationship with joel. she insists you bring him to dinner after you agree. joel gets rewarded for his good behavior, though.

series masterlist/main masterlist/word count: 3.4k

warning: 18+ mdni, reader is able-bodied, no outbreak AU,  pet names (baby, angel, darling), fluff!!!!, flirting, make-out, drinking, parental issues, talk of trauma, drinking, handsy make-out, oral sex (m receiving), sexual teasing, joel's southern charm 🥵

a/n: howdy, everyone! i hope all is well with everyone! i am super sorry for the delay in this. i hope you all enjoy it! comment, reblog, and like to show your love! i appreciate you all! much love 🫶🏼 maddie

It was common for you to have noon meetings during the week. These meetings ruined your lunch break and made the day go by longer. Your break was usually when you got to catch up with Joel and socials throughout the day, so this meeting ruined your vibe. 

You sighed in relief as your boss let you all out about ten minutes earlier than usual. Gathering all your items, you hurry to your little office and get out a little lunch from your bag. You grab your phone, planning to text Joel when you see your mother has tried to call you. After closing your office door, you call her back with a slight eye roll. 

Your relationship with your parents was okay, but you were very independent and broke many generational curses that disappointed your mother. Your mom was the type to try to set you up with all her friends, coworkers, and kids, and she wanted you to go to the University of Virginia like her and your father. You have never told her about Joel. The two of you have been together for almost a year now. You were not ashamed of your sweet and sexy cowboy at all. You just enjoyed the peace of them not knowing. Your parents were just tricky and old in their ways of thinking. That’s why you did not get along. 

“Hi, honey! I thought you would be on a lunch break, but I guess not,” she uttered as soon as she answered, causing you to shake your head. 

“Hi, Mom. I had a meeting during the first half of my lunch break. I'm just calling you back. How are you today?” you asked as you sat back in your chair. Your mom only calls every other week, usually to get gossip for her book club or country club women's group. Your apartment was about thirty minutes from their house, but you only went over once a month, if that. 

“I’m doing okay. Leanne just told me some interesting news,” you could hear the fake grin on her face as she spoke. “It was about you.” Why the hell would she know anything about you?

“Oh really? What did she have to say?” You hesitantly asked her as you sat up, wondering what her friend had news about you. 

“She was telling me about how she was on your side of town going grocery shopping because there were better prices on fruit and vegetables there. She ran into her old construction worker, and once she got to the check-out line, you were there with him checking out two lanes down all lovey-dovey.” She began her speech on ‘how could you’ as you started to fidget your fingers across the top of your desk. “Hello, are you there?” 

You slowly take a deep breath before you respond to her. “I’m here. Yes, he’s my boyfriend,” giving her a short response was the best you could do right now as your stomach turned. 

“Boyfriend? How old is he? Leanne says that he has kids! Honey, you are only twenty-five years old! You don’t need to be with some older man and some woman’s kids.” She nagged back at you, and your fingers were immediately at the end of the call button. 

“Mother, whenever you find the time to be respectful and happy for me, you can call me back, and we can discuss Joel.” You say as you finally hit the end call button and let out a shaky breath. You sit back in your chair, wishing you could simply disappear to your country heaven. 

It took her three days to call you back. You almost did not answer, but your drive to the ranch was on a Friday evening. I was hoping you would lose the phone service anyway. 

“Hello, sweetie. I am sorry for how I reacted the other day,” she started the talk in a sweet apologetic tone. It caused you to wish you had not answered. 

“I’m not saying I forgive you because you said very unfair things about Joel the other day.” You replied quickly as you continued to drive farther away from the city. 

“I know. I judged a book by the description and cover. I am sorry, sweetie.” She lets out another apologetic plea. “I was calling to apologize for my behavior, but also invite you and Joel for dinner at the house on Sunday if you are both free. Your father and I would like a chance to meet him.” 

You bite your lips as she speaks and tap your fingers along the steering wheel. “ I will have to talk to Joel about it. I’ll let you know by tomorrow morning.” 

The rest of your conversation was short as she tried to catch up with you a little. Because of her old manipulative ways, you knew not to play too much into her games, but she was still your mother. You eventually lose service before you get to the ranch, so you end the call. You try to relax a little before you pull into the driveway as you roll down the windows, enjoying the cool breeze. 

The drive past the ranch gates was quiet; usually, you could see someone out in the pastures. You pull into your regular parking spot and still cannot see anyone around. 

Sassy comes running the house from the direction of the barn, barking at you. She let you give her some quick love but started herding you towards the barn. “Alright, I’m coming,” you say to the dog as you follow her directions. As you come around the side of the house, you see Joel waiting for the two of you to join him with a smirk. 

You noticed he was covered in dirt and sweat when you approached him. His black T-shirt helped hide some dirt, and his large biceps peeked out. His large, dirty hand was wrapped around a cold yellow can of Coors. “Howdy, sweetheart,” he greets you with a gentle hand around your waist, pulling you into a small peck. He didn’t show much affection because Ellie and Tommy sat with him. It all looked like they had a rough day.

“You guys just slacking off and drinking today?” You joked with them as you pulled away from Joel to hug Ellie. You reached up to wipe some dirt off her chin like a mother. Ellie and your relationship was something you worked hard for. She gave you hell, but you won her over reasonably quickly. Her protectiveness over Joel was the biggest obstacle, but she accepted you in her small circle after seeing how you cared for and loved him. 

She jokingly pulls away in disgust, which makes you roll your eyes dramatically. You hear the sound of a cooler opening as you turn towards Tommy, yellow jacket in hand. He nods and gives you a beer, “Evening, city girl. I would hug you, but your old man decided to work my ass off,’’ he jokes with his giant smile and southern drawl. If you had not found Joel and Mariah wasn't in the picture, you could picture yourself with Tommy. You lift your beer to the two men (Ellie is still a senior in high school, but Joel told her she had to wait till she graduated to drink with them) as you all take a sip of the beer. 

“As much as I would love to sit here and drink beer all night. I need to go get ready for my hot date,” Tommy says as he finishes his beer in two big gulps. He lets out a loud belch as he grabs his cooler and puts it in the back of his truck. “I will see you guys in the morning. Call Ellie if you need anything. I will not answer if you call me.” 

You all chuckle as he waves and drives off down the driveway. The three of you all chat while you finish cleaning up the stables; then Ellie says she’s going to her room to shower so she can go into town later. 

Joel gently pulls you into his chest as the two of you watch her walk up to the big house. “You look mighty pretty today, little lady, but you seem tense. Let me help you with that.” He whispers into your ear as he moves your hair. Joel cups one side of your cheek as he pulls into a passionate kiss, pulling away slightly with a smirk and then going back in. He starts kissing down your neck, to the collar of your shirt, and to your ear. His wandering hands move from your waist to your bottom, kneading your ass. He held you still and gently guided you against the wall as he continued to kiss and let his hand wander. 

“I need to,” you stopped, letting out a small moan as he started to move his hands under your shirt. “I need to talk to you about something, Miller.” You couldn’t help but bring it up as it weighed heavy on you. You wanted to go ahead and get it over with, then ride your cowboy from sunset into the night.

Joel quickly stops his movements as his body eases off you gently, his concerned brown eyes meet yours. “What is it, darling?” He asked as he rubbed his hands gently on your hips, his eyes scanning your face for an answer to what could be wrong. 

“My mother called,” you say as you lay your hands on his chest. “She has invited us to dinner on Sunday. Her friend saw us together the other day and spilled the beans. We don’t have to go through.” 

“Why won’t we go? I mean, it’s been a year now,” he rubs your shoulders to reassure you that everything will be okay. “It would be nice to meet the parents who made me my favorite person.”

“She said some ugly things on the phone about our relationship. I made her call me and apologize for it,” you quickly tell him as you bite your lip, waiting for his response. 

He runs his thumb across your cheek as his brown eyes intensely meet yours. “I’m happy that you stood up for us. We can go, baby. I will just blow their socks off with my Southern charm,” he whispers as he kisses your forehead. Joel was insecure about never being good enough for you but never worried about other people’s opinions on your relationship, especially the age gap. 

“I’m sure you will,” you mumble back as you lean into him to give him a heartfelt kiss. “Now, we can resume our activities, cowboy.” 

Sunday evening came too quickly for your liking. You and Joel drove into the city together, and Joel drove your little sedan, which was always cute. You pull into your parent’s driveway with a slight groan escaping your lips. Joel’s hand gently rubbed your thigh, comforting you, “We got this, darling.”

Joel dressed more than usual in a solid button-up shirt rolled up to his forearm with nice dark jeans. You wore a simple dress that made you guys almost late whenever Joel saw you in it. 

Joel takes the lead as he gets out, opens your door, and helps you out of the car. He holds your hand as you both walk up to the door.  You ring the doorbell and look at him quickly with a small smile. He squeezes your hand and slightly winks as the door swings open, revealing your father. 

There is silence as your father awkwardly stares down at Joel, which causes you to stop breathing for a second. Joel breaks the silence as he lets go of your hand and puts it out for your father to shake: “Good evening, sir. I’m Joel Miller.”

Your father glances at his hand and shakes it hard. “Nice to meet you, Joel. Please don’t call me sir; we are too close in age for that. I’m Dave.” He says it almost as a joke and moves out of the way to let you in. You give Joel an eye roll about the comment as he walks in with his hand on the small of your back. 

“Dad, don’t be a dick,” you say as your mother walks into the room. She looks horrid at what you just said but gives Joel a small smile.

“Hello Joel, it’s so nice to meet you finally. I’m Tracy. Our daughter has been keeping you hidden,” she jokes beside your father, then gives you a death glare to behave. The tension in the room was giving you significant anxiety as you fidgeted your fingers as you all walked into the living room. “Would either of you like to drink? Dave could get you a beer or whiskey, whatever you like.” 

Joel looked calm and collected as he sat beside you on the couch. Your mother sat across from the two of you on a decorative chair. “Thank you. I’ll take a whiskey,” Joel responded as he smiled back at your mother. Your father started rambling about his whiskey collection, and Joel entertained it. He was putting that Southern charm to work tonight. 

The tension faded as you all sat at the table in the dining room, which your mother had beautifully decorated for the night. You helped her serve all the food. Joel tried to help, but you told him to return to entertaining your dad. 

As you help your mom in the kitchen, “I like him. I’m sorry that I judged him too early,” she says as she finishes plating the last dish. “I’m happy he makes you happy. I think I was just hurt that you kept it a secret.” 

You smile at your mom as she does a genuine behavior. She was lovely, but she could be very fake with her friends. “I’m happy you like him, Mom. He’s pretty okay,” you joked as you hugged her quickly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I have no excuse for it.” 

“I can’t blame you either, honey. I didn’t tell my parents about your father until we moved in together. They were pissed when we got married three months later,” she giggles as you carry out plates to the table. 

Everyone starts eating as you all make small talk amongst each other. 

“The dinner is excellent, Tracy. Thank you guys for inviting us over for dinner,” Joel says after he wipes his face off with his napkin and then places it on his lap again. The two of you had been playing footsie under the table all night as you sat across from one another. You also took your shoe off and teased his crotch every once in a while, which caused you to get a stern look from Joel. 

“You are more than welcome, Joel. I’m so happy you guys are here,” your mom says back to him, smiling happily. The southern charm was still heavy as Joel won everyone over more and more, especially your dad—even the discussion of going to a University of Texas football game next season and a visit to the ranch soon. 

“Joel, if you don’t mind me asking, I heard from my friend that you have children. How old are they?” your mom asks as she finishes her meal. She seems genuine with her question, and there are no games. 

“I don’t at all. They are one of my favorite topics to discuss besides your daughter. I have two daughters, Sarah and Ellie. They are both seniors at the high school in the closest town to the ranch. Sarah comes from my previous relationship; her mom left us when she was two. Ellie is my not legally adopted daughter, and she is a spitfire. Ellie’s parents should burn in hell for how they were treating her. Luckily, she and Sarah were close enough for her to say something, and we could help her,” Joel spoke, and it made you want to get emotional as he talked with such love for his girls. They are his world and mean everything to him; he will do everything for them if they let him. 

“Aw, I’m sorry for the hardship of being a single parent. It is hard, I bet,” your mom says as she gives him a small smile. 

“My brother, Tommy, and his wife, Mariah, have been there for me as I am with them. This little lady has been heaven-sent as the girls get older and more challenging. Changing the diapers is easy, but feelings and relationship trouble are more challenging,” Joel jokes as his brown eyes meet yours with a grin. He reached across the table to your hand and held it briefly.  

Dessert was served, and the men drank one more drink as they helped wash the dishes in the kitchen. It was finally time to start heading back home. Your parents walked you out and gave you both hugs and farewells. 

Joel gently held your hand as he walked with you to the side of the car. He helps you in with a squeeze of your ass out of sight of your parents. As Joel pulls the car out of the driveway, you wave back to your smiling parents. 

“They loved you and your charm, handsome,” you look over at him with a smirk. “I think you deserve a reward for your good work.” You slide your hand over his clothed crotch, which earned a low groan from Joel.

“Are you trying to wreck us, darling?” He asks you with a chuckle and bats your hand away from him. “Either wait till we get away from the street lights or get home.”

“What if I didn’t do either,” you teased him as you slowly slid your hand back over his crotch. You bite your lower lip and palm him gently as you bat your eyelashes at him. 

“You better, or your ass is grass when we get home,” he grumbles as he bats your hand away. “You only have to wait ten minutes. I don’t want to get pulled over with my dick out.”

The next ten minutes were full of you teasing Joel as he got more and more sexually frustrated with you. As soon as the city lights went out of sight and pastures started, Joel gave you a stern look. “You have been teasing me all fucking night with that damn dress and your under-the-table activities. You will be punished for that,” he sternly tells you as you get an idea to get yourself out of trouble. 

“Or,” you dramatically drag the R as your hands slide back over to Joel’s clothed erected crotch. “I could reward and ask for your forgiveness now.” You trusted Joel that he could handle driving if you continued to pleasure him, and you would stop if not.

He lets out a shaky breath as you start to unbutton and unzip his jeans. You spit into your hand as you begin to pump his cock in a rhythm that makes him groan loudly. Eventually, after your hand starts to sting, you lean over and take him in your mouth. 

“Fuck, darling,” he lets out as his non-driving hand entangles your hair, gently pushing your head in rhythm as you are going in. “You’re going to make me come, angel.”

You continue to bobble your head down as your tongue glides against him, with some extra pressure applied that causes him to grip your hair a little harder. His quick breaths come a little sooner than you thought. You work him a little harder as you meet his brown eyes with big eyes. 

“I’m about to come, darling. Do you want to swallow?” he asks as he tries to calm down to give you time to answer. You nod and make an agreeing noise as you continue. Shortly, white ropes are shot into your mouth as Joel’s moans meet your ears. “Fuck, good girl.” He reaches down and cups your cheek as you pull up. “Just wait till we get home, little lady.”

“Oh, I can’t wait, sir,” you giggle back as his hand wanders under the skirt of your dress. He runs his thumb over your clothed pussy, which causes you to spread your legs. Joel teases you until you pull into the driveway. 

“You better get inside and on all four in about two minutes,” he warns you as he parks the car with a smirk. 

Luckily, the girls were away at a friend’s house because the two of you had a very energetic night from the couch to the bathroom shower. Joel’s Southern charm worked for him and worked with everyone, especially you. 

thank you for reading!let me know what you think!🤍

[cozwaenot]

Apple of her Eye

Wednesday x Blind! Fem Reader

-

Ever since you were born , you never thought your condition as a burden . Your parents have given you everything to have the best and comfortable life . Although there are disadvantage with your condition but you always been grateful and positive .

You're the epitome of calmness and beauty . Gentle Voice , Long wavy (h/c) hair , Fair skin and lastly your translucent eyes . Your name alone screams Serenity , that is why the whole campus was dumbfounded when Addams was able to woo you .

Wednesday is a sucker for you , she's worst than her father when she's in love , and Wednesday doesn't mind one bit . Holding hands with many people around? sure , as long as you're safely walking beside her . One time , Wednesday almost dismember someone's arm from Enid school cliques just because they "accidentally" bump into you making you almost fall on your butt , luckily Wednesday was all over the place when it comes to you .

"Wedns , be nice please , I know they did not do that on purpose" , here comes Wednesday kryptonite , everything about you is her weakness . Your smell , your smile , your eyes , name it . As long as your name is Y/N , Wednesday Addams will kiss the ground for you , would kill for you and most of all would live for you .

"You almost got hurt , it is not an excuse for them to be this unwise" Wednesday softly answered you . Smiling , throughout dating Wednesday you have learned that she could be quite protective of you . Scratch that she's hella protective of you , but who can blame her . Every students who adores you will protect you from harm .

"But I did not my love , I am perfectly fine since you're always here to protect me from any harm" , caressing Wednesday cheeks , you slowly land a sweet and gentle kiss .

"You make me feel so alive Mi Amor" Wednesday whispers . " and you're my reason of living Mi Querida" , you replied .

Who would have thought , You , the a symbol of peace , and Wednesday , the symbol of chaos . Heaven and Hell finally met .

-

Class was dismissed a bit earlier today and Wednesday ask you to go on a date with her at the Weathervane . She walked you back to your dorm to change clothes and went back to hers to also change .

Your roomate , Eve is more excited to this date than you are . She's been blabbering how cute you look in every outfit she chose for you . 30 minutes of endless picking of clothes to wear , you both decided to dress comfortable , with a light brown baggy sweater paired with a dark brown trousers , and your favorite old high top converse shoes .

After an hour of preparing , and half an hour of waiting for Wednesday and the travel time going to Weathervane all together . You and Wednesday settled at the edge of the booth .

Wednesday ordered for the both of you , 4 shots of espresso for her and your (f/drink) for you . Throughout your so called coffee date . A group of normies tried hitting on you , Wednesday was about to beat them all up but you held her hand to calm her down , you don't want to attract attention especially sheriff Galpin . From past events , he and Wednesday are not really in good terms , after Wednesday putting-his-son-the-hyde-in-you-know-what kind of thing .

"Hey , what's up lady? you don't mind if we join you right?" You can really smell the cheap tabacco in his breath , "I'm sorry to disappoint you sir , but all of the seat is already taken by someone" You calmly said while gracefully sipping the (f/drink) Wednesday bought you .

Looks like these morons did not notice Wednesday sitting infront of you , with Wednesday great stealth skills , everything is understandable . The other guy tried to talk to you again but got startled due to the loud bang of the table . Turning their heads , first they saw what looks like a customize knife . It was Wednesday favorite thing she has received from you .

Calmly enjoying your drink , the normies were stunned when they finally recognized Wednesday at the booth .

"You should leave if I were you guys , or my knife will finally taste what real blood is" Wednesday coldly said , it did not take a matter of seconds for them to run away when they saw The Wednesday Addams .

"There's nothing more romantic than bitter coffee , knife and threats , right Cara Mia?" You said still enjoying your drink , Wednesday smiled , She thought she's slowly corrupting your innocence.

" l would die for you , I would kill for you , either way , what bliss . Ma chérie" . and with that Wednesday sealed her promises and her unmeasurable love for you with a kiss on the lips .

-

[diminuel]

Time to watch another SPN episode, 12x15 now. I don’t even know what this is about off the top of my head. I have always struggled a bit with the second half of S12 because I found the Lucifer plot ridiculous. (And was annoyed when Cas was constantly away on the Kelly Kline chase plot.) Anyway, under the cut!

Alright, I am not enjoying the depiction of Dean here. He is “gross” (covered in monster guts which he casually flicks about, doesn’t care about it, Sam has to tell him that he’s got bits of a siren stuck in his hair and that he should not sit on the chair because he’ll get the chair dirty. But Dean got into the car like that...?) and he’s also “stupid” - totally blanks out when Sam gives him a lie about how he got the cases.

But, seriously, why the hell is Sam lying to Dean about that. He knows Dean well, he saw what the fall out was to Mary’s secrecy and he’s just doing the same shit? I don’t care that it’s Sam’s birthday today, he’s getting the knife emoji for that. 🔪🔪

Sam and Dean don’t really do their job properly if you ask me, unless I am confused. But A demon deal takes ten years. From the couple’s conversation it seems like she is leaving for college, so she must be pretty young. Do Sam and Dean just assume the guy made a demon deal at 10...?

Again, we are faced with Dean behavior that would have been fitting in S1 but not in S12 in my opinion. (Dean tells Sam to take care of “her” but by her he doesn’t mean the girl Sam is protecting but the car. And he harps on about how she’s a beautiful woman...) Crowley’s casual “ew” reaction on the other hand is fitting.

Crowley saying “ a few years ago, who would've thought you'd be working with the King of Hell?” Have you been watching the show, Crowley? They’ve been working with you on and off for years now X3

And I wished Dean would have been more disappointed or felt a bit more betrayed by Sam lying to him about the BMOL...

I don’t think I said anything about the Cas sub plot, but since we’re already at “lying to Dean/ keeping secrets from Dean” I should mention it. Cas should know better too at this point... This is not a terrible secret of course, he’s just listening to Joshua’s pitch. But he could have mentioned it even though I understand why he didn’t... That Kelvin kept on saying that heaven is now united due to the nephilim problem, when they already banded together due to the Amara problem annoyed me a little bit just for consistency’s sake I guess.

So, to sum up: it was an episode. Not bad but not particularly entertaining either. Visually, it was appealing though - Dean in classes and Cas was particularly beautiful this episode.

[frostedfaves]

No Space, No Time

The Honey Collection

Pairing: dark!CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha loves watching her temporary assistant squirm.

Warnings: dark!fic (18+ ONLY), strap mention, suggestive themes, Natasha once again abusing her authoritative power

A/N: I have nothing to add except that I am still taking dark!fic requests for other characters all month! see this post for details and also check the masterlist linked above for the previous installment of this collection :) let me know what you think!

-

It’s far from an exaggeration to say that the last week has been hell for you.

You have to admit that Natasha’s stunt in her bathroom was absolutely startling, but you’d be lying if you said you hated it. What you do hate is the fact that she hasn’t touched you at all since. But she has touched herself.

“Excuse me, Miss Romanoff?”

Natasha of course noticed your approach from the moment you stood from your desk, but she doesn’t acknowledge you until you call her a second time, successfully hiding a smirk at the shakiness in your tone. She slightly lowers the top half of her personal laptop sitting in front of her work monitors and makes eye contact with you, and you take it as a cue to continue.

“Sorry to bother you, but I need your signature on these forms before they go out.”

You drop the file in front of her and fold your hands behind your back as she wordlessly places her signature on each line. Once the file is back in your hands, you thank her and turn back to your desk, facing her again when she calls you.

“Yes?”

“What are you thinking we should have for lunch today?” 

She shifts in her chair, throwing one leg over the arm of it, and you try not to stare when her pants leg tightens and you notice something resting against her leg.

“I asked you a question, love.”

“Right, sorry. Um...” You cough a bit when you notice her hand running over the length. “I can never say no to pasta.”

“Perfect!” She grins as she opens her laptop again. “There’s a place around the corner I enjoy. You call in the reservation in my name and I’ll finish up here.”

You return to your desk as quickly as your slightly shaking legs will allow, looking up the restaurant and grabbing the phone to call in the reservation. As you’re waiting for someone to pick up, your eyes are drawn to Natasha’s hand grazing along the hidden strap, almost as if she’d forgotten she was doing it. You know she didn’t.

In the next hour, you’re seated in the restaurant, at one of the more secluded tables per Natasha’s request. She banters lightly with the waiter while you stare at the menu, trying and failing to read your options for lunch while your mind continues to linger on the fact that Natasha is absolutely packing once again.

“Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask while lowering your menu, and you nearly bite your tongue to prevent a noticeable reaction when you see her shirt unbuttoned enough to expose her breasts that are now covered in water.

“Just spilled a bit.”

She uses a cloth from her purse to pat herself dry, being slightly modest in the interest of being in public, but using slow and calculated motions that you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from. You’re incredibly disappointed when she buttons her shirt a bit more just before the waiter returns.

-

“Come here, honey.”

You’re pulled back into the present by Natasha’s voice as she beckons you over, and you save the document you’re working on before approaching her desk.

“What can I do for you, Miss Romanoff?”

Her expression remains neutral as she pats an empty space on her desk just beside where she’s sitting, and you hesitate a bit before rounding the desk to sit where she indicates.

“I’ve noticed you’re a bit distracted,” she says finally, and you instantly avert your gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

“Noth--”

“Look at me before you lie.”

You take a deep breath and make eye contact with her again, noticing her hands resting on her thighs again as you do so. Before you can get a word out, she speaks once more.

“These are really nice pants. Where did you get them from?” She rests her hand on the crotch area of your pants, her thumb pressing into your clit through two layers of fabric, and she chuckles quietly when you whimper instead of answering her properly. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You nod your head quickly without thinking, beginning to grind against her hand for more pressure while she presses further and runs her thumb across the fabric in slow strokes. Her hand shifts, her fingers inching toward the waistband of your pants, and you sigh heavily when all she does is snap the waistband against your skin before pulling away entirely.

“I’d like to show you something tonight after work. Do you have plans?”

“No, I’m free.” You make a quick mental note to text your friends to cancel your dinner plans as Natasha rolls up your sleeve and begins writing an address on your arm.

“I expect you there at 7. Don’t be late.”

At exactly 6:59pm, you pass through security in Natasha’s building and take the elevator up to her floor. She opens the door as you approach it and ushers you inside quietly. She’s still wearing her work outfit, but the shirt is unbuttoned down past her incredibly revealing bra and her lipstick has been wiped away, most likely to avoid staining the glass of wine in her hand.

“Would you like one?” she asks when she sees your eyes on the glass.

“Just one. I drove here.”

Within seconds she has it in your hand, holding your other one as she begins giving you a tour of her penthouse. You admire every room, the artwork on the walls, what seems to be a custom design on all the furniture...and you try not to let your mind dwell on Natasha fucking you in the huge bed, shower stall, or secluded balconies.

“So what do you think?”

“Everything is beautiful,” you answer honestly. “But why did you want to show me this? If you’re selling it, I’m the wrong person to take over. I definitely can’t afford this.” 

“You don’t have to buy this place to live here.” Natasha guides you to the bed, lifting your hand to your mouth and tipping the wine glass to make you finish it in one gulp. “I simply wish I had someone to share the space with, a woman that wouldn’t have to worry about a single thing financially...sexually...”

“Sounds like you want a sugar baby.”

“No, I’d like an emotional attachment too,” she clarifies, placing her palm against your chin and running her thumb along your jaw. “It has to be someone willing to commit every bit of their time, love and attention only to me.” 

“That’s not a very realistic expectation, especially for someone who has family and friends, a whole life before they met you.” You try to stand but she cages you in by standing with either leg outside of yours.

“Honey, it’s a very realistic expectation for someone that wants to be a good girl for me.” She uses her tightened grip on your jaw to tilt your head down and kiss the top of it. “Take a few days to think about it.”

[beneathashadytree]

heyy i just saw that you write for knb so pls can i have headcanons for aomine with black s/o that plays tennis ?

POWER COUPLE - AOMINE DAIKI X READER

Warnings : Aomine is a bit of a perv (obviously), couple of curse words, black!reader and blasian!Aomine, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff <3

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting for KnB! 🥰 It’s one of my favorite shows, but the fandom has pretty much gone into hiding 🫠However, I’d like to comment on something, nonnie. As someone who is very heavily mixed and has never been represented in any piece of media, or in any work of fanfiction, I’ve tried to rectify that by making absolutely sure to never describe any body type or size, facial features, race and ethnicity, sexual orientation, personal experiences, religious beliefs, or even something as silly as hair length—unless, of course, it is a comfort fic that has been specifically requested by a person, which I have considered this to be, or an emergency request. I aim to be as inclusive as possible with my writing by making zero references to anything detailed, because the last thing I would want is to see someone feel disappointed that they do not feel seen. Fics are a source of comfort for everyone, after all. I did write this just as you’d wanted it, nonnie, but I hope everyone understands where I’m coming from by keeping all my readers so vaguely described! All things aside, I hope you like this one because I personally loved writing it (and honestly I related to a lot of these points; particularly with wash day being today… yikes) 💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp.

Masterlist

Now I am of the firm belief that Aomine himself is blasian with a close extended family and I will die on this hill, so bear this in mind as you read on

He’s… a piece of work, to say the least

It took a lot of time to convince him that no, ogling at magazines is not exactly acceptable behavior when he’s no longer a bachelor

But then again, he slowly found himself losing interest in the pinups anyways the further his relationship developed with his sweetheart

After all, his eyes always trailed after them no matter what, completely enraptured by them and their body regardless of how they were feeling (yes, even as they scolded him) to the extent that he’d even grin

Needless to say, this granted him a lot of annoyed “Eyes up here, Daiki”s, but they never quite found it in their heart to actually get mad at him; not when he always looked like he’d never take his eyes off them like that

It was equal parts flattering and embarrassing, really

As someone who’d spent quite literally half his life dedicated to sport (or as dedicated as he felt like being, in all honesty), he was ten times more appreciative of their figure because he knows damn well just how much effort goes into maintaining it like that

Every toned muscle, every curve and indentation; it had him spell-bound and admiring just how hardworking they are to be this… ridiculously hot

Speaking of sports, Aomine might be the best boyfriend when it comes to having an athletic partner, even if he’s a little embarrassing

He wasn’t particularly interested in tennis—or anything aside from basketball, really—but he sure as hell was in awe with how much effort they put in on the daily

Early morning runs, gym sessions, tennis practices day in day out; they really worked themselves to the bone to aim for their goal, and there wasn’t anything he found more attractive than that

He’d be the sort of boyfriend who’d show up to matches with a devilish smirk and tell his partner to go kick some ass—the loud, proud boyfriend if you will

You’re sorely mistaken if you think his inflated ego doesn’t extend to his lover’s incredible achievements

Any cheating or misconduct from their opponent? You can bet he’s spewing filth from the sidelines at the top of his lungs (and yes his lack of subtlety got him kicked out of the stands more than just the one time)

But honestly, his slight vulgarity is pretty motivating, because they know that they’ve got a supportive boyfriend to back them up

Come win, come loss, he’s always there to share every moment with them, a lazy arm draped around their shoulders

Given his genius in his own sport, they should prepare themselves for his grumbling and lack of enthusiasm whenever they go out to practice

Cut him some slack; he’s never had to work much when his prodigy far surpassed anyone else’s talents, so practicing was simply a waste of time for him for a couple of years, and he might discourage them in that regard

Aomine might be a little tactless sometimes and say unintentionally cruel things, but then again he’s still learning how to rely on someone else; it’s been so long since he had someone place absolute faith in him while simultaneously having high expectations of him

He very clearly struggles with openly expressing how he feels, so it will take some time for them to feel like they have him completely to themselves, all vulnerabilities exposed to them

However, he truly does appreciate their honesty and openness with him, because it encourages him to do the same; the reassurance that this is a safe space eventually gets to him

Given how his cousins and extended family were always around when they were little, he’s got some helpful experience dealing with levels late-3/4 curly/coily hair, and would absolutely be a great help when it comes to wash day… that is, if they can deal with his impatience throughout the entire process

He’s got the strength and deft fingers for it though, so they let him earn his pay (that pay being an obscene amount of make out sessions and begrudging cuddles that he’ll never admit to craving)

Despite being dark-skinned like his father, Aomine tends to get sunburnt very easily, so after he stubbornly grits his teeth and ends up achey and irritated with his burns for years, they force him to finally apply sunscreen—and he’ll be happy to return the favor, especially if they’re on the beach together and his hands get to wander a little over the expanse of exposed skin

The field of professional sports have had a very long, deep-rooted history in systemic racism, and he’s seen the effects firsthand as a blasian pro-basketball player in Japan, so there’s no one better than him to understand what his partner goes through in the world of tennis

Every vent of frustration is one he takes very seriously; it’s one of the rare times he listens intently without making any cheeky or annoying comments

Whether they want him to interfere and submit a formal complaint is up to them, but he’s just as willing to simply give them some much-needed emotional support and get angry on their account

It makes them all the more proud of their achievements, knowing just how much more they’d struggled than your Average White Joe, and that triggers Aomine’s boasting of his incredible, strong, badass lover

Yes he’s a dick but he’s their dick

All in all, it’s a learning curve, but he’s generally a very fiery person, so once things betwen them have been established as being pretty serious, he’s an A+ supportive boyfriend

Taglist: @mrsgiovanna

[littlemissnoname13]

Leap Years & Forgotten Promises (S.B)

Summary: She leaves, He stays. Their last day spent together falls on the twenty-ninth of the second month and they make a promise to meet every four years, as the leap years come and go. Only, life has other plans.

Warnings: angst, some swearing. Please Note that they are still in school for the first half of the story so the story is majorly sfw. There is one mention of sex in the later half, when they are old enough. As always, read at your own discretion. (Not proofread!)

**the smaller fonts are their letters going back and forth**

Words: Almost 2000

A/n: I mostly only write for Draco but I’d been thinking about Sirius a lot in the last few days 😭 so I made an exception. I wrote this story in under an hour as a writing sprint exercise while working on two other fics. I wasn’t gonna post it Ah, what the hell.

Masterlist

February 29, 1976 Hogsmeade Village

He orders a simple cup of tea and she sips on her Butterbeer with a stripy straw, nodding at his every word.

He is saying something about a practical joke on Severus, and a map. Also, something about his cousin, Bellatrix. She can see his lips moving but the words seem unclear to her. Everything is a ringing white noise.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, setting aside his cup. He leans forward from across the table to observe her—worry creasing his perfectly arched brows.

“Nothing.” She lies, feigning a tight lipped smile.

Obviously, He doesn’t buy it. He just goes quiet for a second, continuously observing her nervous ticks. She is twirling her wand, fidgeting with the end of her tie. There is a poor serviette ripped to tiny shreds next to her.

“You just seem a bit disturbed today.” He says, placing his palm face down on top of hers.

She bites her tongue to keep it all inside but it comes out in an anxious sigh. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Come on. It can’t be that bad.” He shakes his head and gives her a reassuring smile. Dark strands of unkempt hair free falling on his face. “You probably miss your Aunt, and your normal life.”

“But I’m happy here.” She protests, removing her hand from underneath his. He too retreats and leans back against his chair, suddenly awkward.

“I don’t know, Sirius. I just—there is just something inside of me, telling me to stay put.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There is just this gut feeling. It’s like a chill in my bones, I keep waking up in cold sweat, I don’t know—but I wonder if something bad is going to happen. Am I going insane?” She lets out a semi hysterical laugh. “Please tell me I’m not going insane.”

He too goes stiff for a second and looks at her—the brightness in his eyes fading a little. He exhales deeply and gives her a pained look.

“You’re not going insane, believe me.” He goes on. “I know you’ll be back soon, but my mind is coaxing me to blurt out fucking parting remarks.”

She swallows hard.

They’d grown increasingly close over the last year. Bonding over their messy families and what not.

Just like her, he’d never truly belonged. Just like her, he was the black sheep, the prodigal offspring, the family disappointment.

The only difference?

If her muggle parents thought she was to be burnt to the stake for practicing witchcraft, his pure blood fanatic parents had erased every mark of him from their family tree.

Apparently like calls to like.

They are drawn to each other as if they are kindred spirits, twin souls, two halves of the same battered and broken whole.

One day, she gets condemned to detention with a trouble-making Gryfifndor, and the next moment they are sitting down by the lake, exchanging anecdotes of their shared trauma, juxtaposing the respective damage caused by said trauma.

They are screaming at the wind, laughing at the absurdity of it all, reaching for eachother till they are at arm's length.

She doesn’t remember who made the first move nor can she recall how it happened.

All she knows is the texture of his long dark hair that turns a shade lighter under the sun and how it feels fisted in her hands when he kisses her.

He kisses her often.

In between classes, tucked away behind alcoves blanketed in shadows. He curls up next to her in his animagus form and they sometimes fall asleep to vinyls playing Fleetwood Mac songs on repeat. He claims the best song from the record is you make loving fun and she agrees to disagree.

He never goes so far as to explain what is going on and she doesn’t bother to ask him.

Sometimes, he writes to her in the middle of the night and the letters appear on the pages of a special diary disguised as a copy of Ariel by Sylvia Plath. Sirius owns an identical diary, disguised as a dusty old transfiguration book and together they form a passageway for communication.

Their own little secret.

“It’s almost three.” The nervous bobbling of his leg, brings her back to the present day and she quickly gulps the last of her Butterbeer.

She knows James is waiting for Sirius at the Library. She knows this is the last time she’ll see him before she leaves and it is better to rip the bandaid off now.

“Let’s get going then.” She shrugs, getting up and quickly pushing her chair back towards the table. He does the same and follows her outside.

They walk in silence. Him, with his hands stuffed in pockets, his kicking rocks while she rubs her arms to fight the February chill.

“Do you want my jacket? Here have my jacket.” He murmurs, draping it on her shoulder despite her many protests. If that wasn’t enough, Sirius rests an arm on her shoulder so they can huddle close to fight the crisp air.

“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.”

He proceeds to ignore her and he begins to hum the lyrics to You Make Loving Fun. Only, the lyrics are all jumbled up. She doesn’t care however. It’s the best rendition of the song, despite all the added swears and profanity.

For a second, she forgets that she’s leaving and begins to laugh at him, laugh with him. He in return, tickles her sides.Everything is the way it should be. Snow melting off tree tops, sunlight streaming in through fluffy little clouds, and his glorious smirk giving her life. She wants to make a snowglobe out of this moment. She wants to take a piece of him with her.

“Are you going to leave without kissing me goodbye?” He crosses his arm, like a little boy throwing a tantrum. She begins to chuckle but stops midway, realising they have reached the crossroads.

This is the hard part.

He is going back to the castle. And she is going to her Portkey.

Without thinking, she lunges at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and pressing her face on his face till they collide in a kiss goodbye.

Then she moves away and takes two steps backwards. Handing him his jacket.

“Keep it.” He insists but she refuses.

“Stay in touch, Sirius Black.” She says her parting remarks and turns away.

“Wait.” He reaches for her hand and she stops without much effort. If he tells her to stay with him now, she knows deep down she’ll find a way to stay.

But the words never come. Instead, he hands her a small compass. The three point arrow pointing due north. It’s made of pure gold.

“What’s this?” She asks.

“It’s a compass Andromeda got for me and I want you to have it.” He smiles a little.

“I couldn’t possibly—” she begins to protest but he shakes his head, clasping her fingers shut around the compass.

“Find your way back to me.” He says, taking a step back. “It’s a leap year. Promise to bring this back to me during the next leap year.”

“Only if you promise to meet me every leap year.”

“I promise.”

“I promise.” She echoes, fighting the dampness in her eyes as she reluctantly turns away.

1977

I don’t write as often as I’d like but I think of you. Often. All the time.

Sirius

I think of you too

1978

End of an Era Mr.Black ! Here’s to being done with the N.E.W.T.S. Here’s to you!

Sometimes I just wish I could be down by the lake next to you again. I just want to lay there and tell you about the things you’ve missed, talk about life. Other times, I just want to push you to the nearest wall and fuck you.

Both. I want both.

Fuck, I miss you.

I miss you too.

1979

Prongs is getting married later today. I have never seen him act like this. He’s got this little grin on his face that never goes away. He stares into the distance and sighs in quiet contentment over and over again. As the best man, should I be worried? Are these symptoms of some bizarre sickness? He wrote in his vows that he’d be there for her in sickness and in health but this is another level. Help me out here.

Yours,

Sirius

It’s love. He’s in love. You idiot

I say this way too often but I do miss you so. I also miss my compass and I’m hoping to be reunited with it soon. -S.B. (P.s. You make loving fun.)

29th February 1980, Hogsmeade Village

For the first time in what feels like forever, she feels a sudden rush of happiness running through her veins.

She is so ecstatic to the point where she is paranoid. It's because she’s always afraid of happiness. In her own mind, she thinks it’s best if she remains neutral and alert. That way she can't get blindsided by life’s uncertainties.

These four years have been terribly long. She wishes she’d kept his jacket. Maybe that would have gotten her through her bad days.

She looks at the compass in her hand and the top of the three point star points north—points at him.

Sirius Black, standing ahead of her, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. A typical posture for him but a stance that takes her to memories from another place. Another time.

His back is facing her so he doesn’t see her yet. She takes this as a good thing. That way, she’ll get to tackle him straight to the ground and bury her face into the crook of his neck.

The anticipation of what he said, the thing about the wall still making her stomach flutter. She wanted it to be him. Her first.

She almost does it, almost jumps him. Halfway there, someone else beats her to it.

The girl wraps her hands around his waist, and leans forward to kiss his cheeks. Before she can witness anything more, she apparates away.

The compass lands with a loud thud on her filigreed wallpaper when she get back home and the glass covering the three point stars breaks into smithereens. Springs fall out of the back and the star no longer points north. It doesn’t point anywhere.

She may not know it yet, but she’s lost her way back to him. Maybe even forever.

***

She doesn’t come. He waits all day but she doesn’t come.

The only person he sees that say is the hostess from the nearby inn. She is about his age and shamelessly flirts with him everytime he stops for a Firewhisky.

The next day, still determined, Sirius goes to the same spot and stands out there in the cold till he can’t feel his fingers. Lily tells him he is going to get hypothermia but he is stubborn. He will wait for her even if he has to stand right in the middle of a spring blizzard.

Hours fly by like mere minutes and his feet are now, knee deep in snow. Moony grips his left arm while James takes his right as they drag him home and hand him a cup of hot cocoa.

The stupid record player is playing Fleetwood Mac’s greatest hits, and as if to taunt him, You Make Loving Fun starts to blast in full volume.

Loving? Fun? Ha.

“What about the pain, McVie?” He yells at the spinning record. “Is that fun for for you? The searing pain?”

1981

“Sirius Black, Arrested by DMLE on 13 counts of Murder”

She fiddles with the broken compass in her hand and lets out a shard hiss when the broken glass pricks her finger.

She’s tried to fix it. A hundred times already.

But it’s one in the morning and sleep with a mixture of mead and wine is getting to her. She’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe the compass will help her find her way back to him.

“Find your way back to me.” She hears his voice reverberate from a leap year ago.

“I promise.” She sobs into her pillow. “I promise.”

FIN.

~~~

[samblackblog]

6. Olympic National Park

⎔ MASTERLIST ⎔ REQUESTS ⎔ TWILIGHT ⎔ BOUNDARIES ⎔

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, fluff, lots of fluff tbh, slow burn

A/N: Not my GIF, credit to whoever's it is :) Hopefully this is satisfactorily better, no spoilers but... I enjoyed writing this. I rushed to get this out, hopefully no spelling/grammar mistakes.

← Chapter 5 ▪️ Chapter 7 →

---

You wake mid morning to rain, clouds and an empty house, none of which contributes to the empty loneliness inside you. You yearn for something else, his smell, his touch, hell you’d even settle for just his presence in the house. To be quite honest with yourself, you had given in and weren’t fighting anymore, although you still weren’t sure what it is that you want, you know you won’t try to subvert feelings and hide anymore. Of course you won’t admit this to Paul though. You push the duvet back, revealing your pyjama clad torso to the cold air, which admittedly was quite nice after getting so hot in the night. You turn to your side, one leg slipping out of the sheets as you cuddle the duvet and bury your face in the mass of material. Reluctantly you get up, deciding a shower would distract you from thoughts of him. As hot water washes over your body you can’t help but smile, hoping he is struggling as much as you are. Spending only five minutes in the shower, you wrap up in the biggest scratichest towel you can find and roughly blow dry your hair, not caring too much about styling it. Your phone buzzes from the bedside table as you search for clothes. Quickly you grab a pair of grey gym leggings and baggy black top before diving for the phone.

“Hello” you answer, half expecting your mother’s voice to be checking up on you.

“How are you today?” Sarah’s voice hits your eardrum like music, relief it’s not your mother washes over you.

“I’m good,” You yank the leggings on while you hold the phone between your shoulder and jaw “Just struggling to get dressed” you laugh.

“Oh good! You’re up.” Sarah exclaimed excitedly down the phone, instantly causing an anxious feeling to rise in you.

“Why do I not like your tone?” You question as she lets out a squeal, “Sarah?”

“Don’t be mad-”

“Don’t give me a reason to be.”

“Lighten up” she jokes, “I thought you could do with a day out, I could drive us to Port Angeles-”

“No” you cut her off. Sarah stays silent, “Sorry that was rude, I just don’t like shopping” you offer in explanation “Besides, I have no money” which was the truth, payday wasn’t for another week or two.

“Ah, I forgot you’ve only been at the job for two weeks...”she trails off, disappointment present in her tone.

“We could go for a hike? Make the most of living on the edge of a national park” You ask, giving her an alternative which is met by a disapproving sound of disgust.

“Not only is it cold and wet and miserable but…well, I told some other friends they could come shopping. So, I kinda have to go now...” You could go and spend no money, but where was the fun in traipsing around a city watching everyone else shop. Your heart sinks when you realise your only friend here has other friends, ultimately meaning you will be alone all day.

“No, no, that’s cool. I’d have loved to, maybe we could do it again after pay day?” You tried to hide the disappointment, not wanting to put a damper on Sarah’s day.

“Promise me you won’t go out hiking alone, the forests are big and-”

“Okay, okay. I won’t. Besides, the rain just got heavier” you point out as you watch it come down thick and heavy against your bedroom window as you plonk yourself into the bay seat. “I might have a reading day, we both know I am in need of a restful day.” you muse, hoping to satisfy her. You aren’t one for lying but you feel restless and don’t know how long you can just sit here for.

“Okay,” she isn’t convinced, you can tell, but leaves it at that “call if you need anything”

“Yeah, will do.” You both hang up.

Curiosity gets the best of you as you sit for a few minutes staring at the exact spot where something had been last night. Without properly thinking it through you rush downstairs to the backdoor, you shove a pair of boots on and pull a raincoat over yourself before beelining for the trees, fueled by intrigue. The rain feels heavy and hot as it hits your face. It causes the grass to squelch and turn to mud beneath your feet, making the journey treacherous as it threatens to pull you over every step of the way.  Carefully you make your way to the spot, your eyes flitting from the trees to the forest floor, to the grass for any sign of something being here. But the rain has erased all traces of the animal from the night. You push forward into the trees. The rain, although heavy, hasn't penetrated the thick canopy and therefore the ground is more or less intact. However it does feel damp underfoot, with the odd drop splattering here and there. The pine needles no longer have the same satisfying crunch as usual. Again your eyes traverse the landscape, searching for a sign. Nothing. Again. You would feel defeated if it wasn’t for the other feeling, or was it a thought? Telling you, urging you further into the forest to find answers. For some reason the thought of the big empty forest didn’t scare you like it once had. The promise you’d made Sarah lurks in your brain. You’d agreed not to go hiking alone, technically though this was an exploratory mission and you weren’t far from the house. Besides, you’d been in with Frank and your Mother. You shrug to yourself and set off further into the unknown with renewed determination.

There were signs of broken foliage, but that could have been from the last time you and Frank had been through, or some other hikers. Only when your thighs felt the burn did you stop, noticing the slight incline in your journey. You don’t remember going uphill with Frank, are you lost? Continuing the uphill climb, you soon heard the sound of running water. Knowing no source of water ran near the house, you realised you must have been miles off course. Only when thinking about how long you’d been out did you notice the hunger in your stomach having not had breakfast or lunch before leaving the house. Would you be able to retrace your footsteps? We’ll go in a straight line, walk for an hour, you’ll be in town. Frank’s voice echoes around your head from the last walk. If that had been a straight line from the house, your journey today certainly hadn’t been. It is too risky trying to navigate your way back. Instead you head for the water, following your ears, which was probably the smartest thing you could do in this situation. If they end up looking for you, they’ll look near water or any other big landmarks, hopefully it won’t get to that. Hopefully you’ll stumble across one of the Olympic hiking trails and find a sign, if you follow the water.

What had been the sound of trickling water has grown into a burbling as you emerge on the moss covered banks of the small river. The water cascades by rocks and under a fallen tree, all of which is covered in the same vibrant green moss as the banks. It is breathtakingly beautiful. If it wasn’t so calming, panic would have grown at the sight of the untouched location, at the realisation that you could still be miles from anywhere with people and lost. You sit down on the moss covered tree, looking as the water winds its way downhill. Reaching into your back pocket you retrieve your phone. Of course there is no signal, that’s to be expected, thankfully you were more interested in the time.

“Holy shit.” you gape at the phone, seeing the device display the time as sixteen hundred hours. “I really have been out here for hours…” you tell the surroundings, not sure as to why you voiced the thought allowed. You really did need to head back, and fast, if you didn’t want to cause more panic and terror for your family. Would it be quicker to find the source of the water and hope for a road and hitch a lift or try and retrace your steps? You study the river, which barely qualifies as a river, the banks couldn’t be more than a meter apart which meant the source was close by. Abruptly you stand and decide upon crossing the water, using the rocks as stepping stones. Carefully you make it across the water to the other bank. Your boot hits the damp moss and slips, plunging your foot into the cold water which fills your boot.

The silence of the forest breaks with the sound of footfalls and tree branches in the distance, your cold wet foot was the least of your worries. Was the animal you’d spent all day looking for suddenly tracking you? Quickly you push yourself off the ground, as you think you hear someone call out your name. Your head snaps around to face the side of the river you’d been on not a minute ago as it sounds again, this time you were certain it was your name. The reply catches in your throat as the feeling of giddiness engulfs you, your cheeks blush at the realisation of who it is. He doesn’t need your reply to find you because he emerges on the other bank quick enough.

“What are you doing?” You smile, meeting his worried expression. He crosses the river using the same stepping stones but at a faster pace than you had used making you think this wasn’t his first time here. He moves confidently as if he knows the forest like the back of his hand. He cups your face with his big hands, turning your chin to see every angle and then turns his attention to your hands. You didn't realise your fall had left your palms grazed. Only now focusing on the pain your hand reaches for your left cheek seeking out the graze there.

“Why are you out here?” He asks, a gruffness to his voice you had yet to hear. The question takes you back, confused by the nature of it.

“Why are you out here?” You repeat, as he ignored your question the first time. He gives you a glance if to say don’t be childish, before breathing a sigh of relief.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He ignores the question again as he pulls you into his arms holding you tightly against him, as he places a kiss on the top of your damp head and takes a deep breath in, savouring your scent. You were happy to let the obvious avoidance of your question go, for the time being, knowing the conversation was probably better suited elsewhere. “Let me take you home” he says softly, his voice deep and hypnotising.

You pull away from his body to look up at his face, “please” you laugh “I’m lost.”

Paul rolls his eyes. “I know.”

“How?” you pout, not liking how he seems to know your business.

“Did you mean to be here?” He looks around to prove his point while stepping aside to allow you to cross back over the water.

“No.” You state as you gingerly place a foot on the first stepping stone, feeling Paul’s eyes watch your feet. “But all the best places are found when lost.” You tease as you cross to another rock.

“Is that so?” He tries to joke back but his thoughts seem far away as his concentration is on making sure you don’t slip again as he follows behind.

“Well, all the great explorers were lost before they discovered places and things.” You point out, comfortable to babble nonsensically as you reach the other bank and place two feet firmly on the ground. “Anyway, I think it’s rather beautiful here” You turn to look at the surroundings again as Paul joins you on the banks.

“I’ve seen prettier,” he states. You notice from your peripherals that his eyes are trained on you, not the location. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you try to ignore the growing tension but eventually you turn to meet his gaze.

“You’ll have to show me this prettier place sometime” you tease, earning a chuckle from him. He extends his arm out offering his hand to you, hesitantly you take it realising Paul is the first guy to hold your hand. Embarrassment creeps into your body language causing him to ask if you’re okay. “Mhmm” you respond, not knowing how to act natural anymore.He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before being playful and calling you out.

“I can let go if you’d like” he says quietly, feigning a sulk as you walk side by side. “Guess you don’t want boy germs” his eyebrows raise to emphasise the point. You don’t bother answering, finally comfortable. Twenty minutes go by in silence as you both walk, both of you comfortable, Paul more so as he’s never been a big speaker. He'd be happy if you wanted to fill the silence but you seem content which makes him content. However, he ends up being the first to talk. “I think we’ll have to go single file, it gets steeper.” A fact you already knew, having felt the burn on your thighs on the journey up - at least it would be your calves going down. He takes the lead, giving you help down the particularly bad bits leaving you to wonder how on earth you’d made it up without any incidents. At one point Paul puts his hands on your hips to support you down a slight drop, your hands had been clamped to his shoulder as he lowered you. His pulse was so ferocious you could feel it through your hands. It comforted you endlessly to know he may also be in new territory, so to speak.

“I don’t know if I came this way.” You inform him, glad he was with you as the feeling of being lost hadn’t subsided.

“You didn’t but this way is quicker.”

“And how do you know that?” you question, “Don’t tell me, you’re an expert tracker, and followed what would be a non existent track to the normal human eye” you mock, looking for a reaction.

“Something like that.” is all he gives, so you take a mental note and add that to the list of weird things and questions that need explaining. Sure you hadn’t been successful in finding the animal tracks and had never tried tracking before, but the weather conditions were terrible for it even if you had. So, how had he?

Pulling your phone from your pocket to check the time you see another two hours had passed. Your mother would soon be returning from work and Frank shortly after. “How far away are we?”

“So eager to be rid of my company?” he teases, pulling a pout, mocking the one you had pulled by the river.

“No.” You deliver a shove to his arm, one that catches him off guard. He stumbles once and then shoots you a playful warning look.

“Look who’s grown too big for her boots.” You glance down at your feet and pull a face.

“No, they still fit.” You joke back, earning a chuckle from him. “Guess you’re not used to a girl pushing you around.” You raise your arms in an open invitation. “Guess I’m too strong for you.” You continue teasing as his eyes darken, the animal inside coming alive. You take a few steps back as you feel the tension building. Paul tests the water by putting a foot forward, to which you take several more away. He wants you close and you know it. You can sense the primal side and it elicits something inside you, the desire to run. The prospect of being caught starts to excite you. He can smell it on you, knows your next move is to run, knows he’ll be able to catch you before you know it, but he doesn’t know what direction. It’s driving him crazy, how playful you’re being as he’s trying to contain it and go slow for you. Do you know the effect you have on him?

He says your name softly, as a warning, his eyes pleading with you not to push his limits. There are boundaries that you can’t uncross and he’s not sure you’re ready to see the animalistic side of him that enjoys the thrill of the hunt and wants to possess you. You’ve gone too far and you know it, but you carry on. You turn and run, weaving through the trees before changing direction and running to your left. Zigzagging will keep him at bay longer. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of him away from you, you have to fight the urge to stop and let him catch you. But you do stop and you turn to find him still standing in the same spot, barely holding it together. You feel guilty, knowing you can only be sending mixed signals. After all, you were the one wanting to take things slow and let it take it’s natural course, because you were unsure. You can’t help but feel bad as you ignore that. He’s being good, in case you change your mind, but maybe, just maybe you need to see the real him.

“Guess I’m faster too”You have no filter. What has overcome you to act this way and tease this man, who has been nothing more than accommodating “you’ll never catch me” you provoke. It’s the final straw, Paul gives in to the chase and pursues you at an unnatural speed. You let out a small squeak and start running all over the place, stopping behind a big tree to catch your breath and listen. You hear his pants coming from in front as you poke your head out. He lunges into a sprint to chase you in circles around the tree. “Do I out smart you too?” You call out, taunting him further. Suddenly you crash into him after he changes directions, his arms wrap around you hositing you up into the air. He spins the two of you around before putting you gently back on your feet.

“Apparently not.” He smiles, happy in his catch. You stare up at his face, admiring how stunning he is with the smile lighting up his features. “I got you.” He leans in to whisper, his breath grazing your ear.

“I was close” you whisper back.

“Really?” sarcasm laces his tone as his fingers weave through yours. Your body heats up, not from running but from the look on his face, the one he has quite often when he studies you, especially your lips. Your breath hitches as you free one hand to snake around his neck and pull him closer. His forehead is hot against yours and his breath comes in hot waves as he nudges your nose with his, your lips inches from each other.

“I want to kiss you.” You blurt out, consumed by the moment. He’d waited to hear you say it but hesitates as he mulls over what you said. You want to kiss him. You weren’t asking him to bridge the gap, god knows he’s willing.

Paul swallows and asks in a breathy whisper “So why don’t you?” His free hand pulls you closer at the waist so he can feel your hip bone against his leg. You’d admitted what you wanted to do, the last ten minutes were proof and one hell of a build up to it but you felt nervous. Why didn’t you ask him to? That would have been easier. Because you knew if you did, he still wouldn’t, he wants you to make the first move to ensure it's what you want. Paul wasn’t just the first guy to hold your hand, he’d be your first in everything. It is a massive insecurity of yours, as you feel you have no clue what to do half the time.

Oh god, what if I’m a terrible kisser.

Sensing something was off, he moves his hand to caress your face, pushing back strands of hair. It is comforting but still the nerves run deep. To make things worse, you’re positive you weren’t Paul’s first in anything apart from you do believe you’re the first he’s felt strongly about in a short time frame, which doesn’t count. He’s still experienced.

God I’m in my head too much, how long has it been? He’s waiting. Do something!

“Boy germs.” You hate yourself and instantly regret saying the joke. Thankfully Paul takes it lightly, laughing it off. He can smell the change in your emotions and is comforted by the knowledge that you truly do want him but just need time. He realises, its nerves and quite possibly something new for you. “I’m sorry.” His heart breaks hearing how defeated you sound as your head hits his chest.

“Don’t be.” He strokes your head soothingly. “I should get you back though.” You want to go back to the moment, kiss him and kiss him again. Let him know that you need him like you need oxygen, but it’s gone. He’s already leading you along a trail that you start to recognise as the one Frank took you on, you’re not far from home. You’re not ready to say goodbye yet. “I was calling on you earlier”

“Huh?” Is he a mind reader? “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I came over to see you” he reiterates.

“That’s how you ended up in the forest?” you ask, wondering how he got from a to b.

“Yup.” He glances down at you and gives your hand a squeeze before smiling “There wasn’t an answer when I knocked but the back door was open and I saw your tracks. They looked fresh but not newly fresh and so I wondered if you were okay and…” He gestures to you and kisses your grazed palm. “Anyway, my point is I was looking for you.”

“Why?” Honestly you need to get a filter, or a better grip on the one you usually have. Is it not obvious why? “I mean, was there a reason or…” Is there a reason? Fuck, why am I like this, the reason is you dumbass!

“It’s cute” Paul's tone sounds irritated, the opposite of what his words would suggest.

“What is?” you ask confused.

“How flustered you get and how humble you are.” he points out, making you blush in embarrassment.

“I don’t like to assume-” he stops in his tracks causing you to shut up, you can sense his mood. Is he angry? Or was it disappointment?

“Well start assuming.” he looks sad as he stares into your eyes, “Everything I do is for you.” You’re taken aback and left unsure what to say as he starts his pace back up.

“No one’s ever said that before.” you call from behind him. “I…” You stare into his eyes with a thousand words swimming in your head. “I’ve known you for a day but...:” you search for the next part of the sentence “I’m not the best with er… with emotion or um, with people in general, so I don’t know how to respond. But I’m grateful and to be honest, overwhelmed. Not with that, just everything… I can’t stop thinking about you, all the time, even before yesterday, just from having seen you at the dinner… sounds stupid but…” You breathe shakily as you process the rush of different emotions flooding your system. “I’m awkward and weird, I’m new to this… I have all these thoughts, but don’t know how to act on-”

“What thoughts?” he interrupts your babbling, making you stop to think. Now is your chance to explain yourself, make him understand your situation.

“Well, like back there” you point behind you “I wanted to kiss you but I’m too awkward to just do that, I should have just done it without thinking… I overthink... a lot. It’s an actual problem” you drift off on the last sentence as you see his expression soften. “What?” you question as he walks back to you with a boyish charm. “What if I’m a bad kisser?” you panic ask, as you sense the change in tension for the millionth time today. He chuckles.

“What if you’re not.”

“Be easier if you just kiss me.” you point out as you move into his embrace. You could get used to his arms around your waist. They fit so perfectly like you were made for him.

“Gotta be sure you want these boy germs” he whispers next to your ear as he brings his face to fit into the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. His arms tighten around you so you bring your arms to his shoulders so as not to pin them awkwardly between the two of you.

“Can you stop being a gent?” He shakes his head in answer.

“No, but I can help you out.” His breath hits your neck and sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps appear on your arms at the sensation. His lips touch the sensitive skin of your throat as he gently brushes kisses along your collarbone. It ignites a heat inside your core, something you’ve never felt before and don’t want to end. It’s not enough to bring a moan to your lips but as his face comes to yours you breathe his name aloud. Your hands snake around his neck and into his hair as you brush your lips tantalisingly slow alog his jaw and then to his mouth. Electric shoots from the connection down every nerve in your body. Suddenly you're hungry for him, craving more as your lips press harder against his, moving in synchronization. He strokes hair away from your face as you push up on your toes, urgency in your actions. He breaks away so you can breathe, your blood feels on fire as it pumps around your body. A pulsating hammers in your ears at the rush of blood and the pound of your heart and you suck in deep breaths. He places a chaste kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead, his thumb rubs over your cheek before he kisses both of them too. He takes in your beautiful appearance, from your flushed cheeks and plumped lips to your doe eyes currently staring into his. “Yeah that was terrible.” He teases. You move to take a swipe at him for joking at a time like this but he catches your hand mid air, not once breaking eye contact with you. “I should get you back.”

“You should” you whisper in a barely audible voice

“I don’t want to relinquish you just yet” sadness overwhelms him at the thought of saying goodbye. A sadness you also feel.

“Then stay for dinner”

---

Taglist:

@britty443 @superheavymetalunicorn @yepimthatperson @punkmccqll @krispypotato @the-chaotic-cow @forkscult@navs-bhat @xxx-wounded-angel-xxx

[urfictional]

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 – 𝐤𝐚𝐳 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐞𝐫

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader

summary: there's a new face in ketterdam and kaz will be forced to strike a deal with the devil in order to get what he desires

warnings: blood, blood, and again blood, mentions of torturing, did I mention blood? my bad writing

A/N: I'd like to say that this is my first time writing a fic but then I would be kind of lying because a while ago I started to write a Kaz Brekker fanfiction on Wattpad. BUT. this is my first time writing a short fic, so we'll see how it goes.

also, English is not my first language so bear with the mistakes (I'm sure that there are some)

It’s hard to earn a name for yourself in the Barrel. You essentially start from nothing and then slowly brick by brick you start to grow your empire. You spill sweat and blood to achieve the goal and from then it only takes so little to remain at the top. It’s simple. One just needs to show the power that they hold. And Y/N has power.

Kaz Brekker was wondering. Standing in a dark room with fancy furniture, his Crows, Inej and Jesper, behind him. He was wondering from where she came from. The girl, approximately his age. Just a few months ago, the Barrel practically swarmed with rumors about a girl that Ketterdam hadn’t seen yet. No one knows from where she came from, or who she is. If Kaz has to think, he even doesn’t know her name.

She has many names but none of them is her real one. At least Kaz thinks that the girl that is sitting in front of him couldn’t possibly be called the Executioner. On the other hand, who knows this is the Barrel. A perfect place for weird people.

“You surprise me Kaz Brekker.” Even her voice sounded mysterious. It was confident, powerful and Kaz caught himself thinking that he could listen to her voice till death finally takes him. “You came to my house, walk through my corridors and now your dirty boots are staining my Persian rug and the only thing that you tell me is that you want to strike a deal that would make us acquaintances.”

Kaz didn’t utter a word. He watched the girl and the girl watched him. Her feet were resting on her desk and she comfortably leaned into the chair. She smirked.

While the Y/H/C haired girl was staring at Kaz, Jesper let his eyes closely inspect the girl. In a weird way, she reminded him of Kaz. Perfectly tailored clothes, black dress shirt, and grey west. Dress pants and heeled boots on her feet that laid crossed at her ankles on the desk’s surface. Her Y/H/C hair made into a tight knot at the back of her head. The only thing missing was leather gloves and cane.

“People who hold power in the Barrel should have acquaintances who do the same.” Kaz would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous about this meeting. He has heard stories about this girl, stories that possibly are nasty rumors, yet you never know. This is the Barrel after all.

She let out an amused laugh.

“And you count yourself as one?” She raised her eyebrows, an amused smile present on her face. “An acquaintance who holds power in the Barrel?” Y/N waited for Kaz to say something, to defend his honor yet he stayed quiet. She smirked while standing up. “Congratulations, you just passed the first test.”

Y/N needed to know if Kaz Brekker really is the Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. She won’t let the boy know all her secrets and ways how she works if he isn’t half of what Ketterdam claims him to be.

“Though I have to ask.” She stopped millimeters away from him. Y/N could feel the ragged breath of his that made her furrow her eyebrows and tilt her head a little. She looked into his eyes and stepped one step away from him. “If you claim that people who hold power in the Barrel need to, say, familiarize with others. What about Pekka Rollins? Hmm?” She watched how Kaz visibly stiffened upon that name. She smirked. Y/N got what she wanted. “I hope you will pass the next test, for I would be glad to make you an acquaintance.” With that Y/N walked past the trio towards the door. “Follow me.”

From outside, the building seemed to look like any other building on this street. Yet when the group made the turns for what seemed like a thousand times, they realized that the exterior is just an illusion. The Crows followed the girl down the steps and judging by the fact that there were no windows, and the air was a tad humid, they were in a basement.

They walked down a corridor. Kaz noted that there were doors every few meters on the left side. It looked awfully like a prison down here. Y/N walked past one door but then stopped causing the group to halt. She walked back towards the doors she just passed and opened the latch in the door. A small window with bars allowed to see inside the room yet the group couldn’t see anything from the position where they were standing.

They could hear a chain rattling and groaning which forced Kaz to think that there was someone in there.

“Well, have you changed your mind?” Her tone was demanding. Kaz observed her side profile. Sharp eyes and clenched jaw, he wondered if this is how he looked when he demanded something and didn’t accept no for an answer. The group heard more chain rattling and louder groan that sounded awfully like no with a couple of colorful words that were no doubt directed towards the girl. Y/N smirked. “As you wish.”

She went to close the latch when she glanced at the group on her left. Then without closing it moved forward along the corridor. Y/N purposely left the window open, she wanted Kaz to see with what kind of devil he is making the deal.

While walking past the doors Kaz glanced inside and visibly gulped. A man in his late thirties was hanging by his hands from the ceiling, his feet barely touching the ground. He was bleeding from, well, everywhere, and by the looks of it, he has been here for a long time. He was barely alive, and it seemed hasn’t eaten for weeks. Kaz wondered if behind all those doors were hanging men or even women.

“Do they even get food or water?” Inej was troubled by the scene that she saw behind the doors and couldn’t help but to be a tad concerned.

Y/N glanced behind her before turning to face the front again.

“When I remember, they do.” She nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. They turned a corner and continued to walk along another hallway. The girl turned to throw a smirk towards the Suli girl. “I am a tad forgetful; you know. Can’t always remember all those poor souls that need feeding.”

So, then there were more people down here. Kaz suddenly wondered how many of them were still alive and how many were just hanging dead.

The group reached the end of the corridor. They were met with a man who was undoubtedly guarding the doors. With one nod from the girl in front of them, the guard opened the doors and let them inside.

This room was bigger than the previous cell that they saw. The walls were lined with cabinets that contained things, starting from various kinds of weapons to bottles of different sizes and colorful liquids.

“How’s our guest feeling today?” The Crows turned to where Y/N was standing in front of a man who, much like the previous prisoner, was hanged by his hands from the ceiling. The only difference was that there were also chains on his feet and he was hovering above the ground. Kaz observed the room and noticed three men standing on the sides. More guards. “Did the acid did its work?”

The Y/H/C-haired girl walked towards the table on her left. She was slowly unrolling the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows. After she was done Y/N picked up a bottle inspecting it.

“The man at the market said that it's pretty effective.” Only now Kaz noticed the burn marks on the prisoner’s body. One of the guards stepped forward.

“He didn’t utter a word.”

Y/N tsked while shaking her head in disappointment. She then turned to the hanging man.

“This is not how we work, darling, you know that.” The mock concern in the girl’s voice caused Kaz to shiver slightly. “Such a pretty face ruined for nothing. I can give you one more chance.”

The prisoner raised his head and looked at the girl in front of him. Y/N could easily live without the information that this man could give her but then it wouldn’t be interesting anymore. Any kind of information even the smallest one about the people of Ketterdam could turn out to be useful. You just need to find the right way, the right place and time.

“I am bound by an oath, I won’t tell you anything. Even if I’ll have-”

“-have to die, yeah, yeah don’t I know it.” Y/n interrupted the man by rolling her eyes. “You’re pathetic.”

The Crows braced themselves after what came next. The hanging man mustered all the strength that was in him and spit the blood that was in his mouth right into her face. The guards launched forwards, but Y/N raised her hand halting them in their steps.

Kaz watched how the girl was trying to calm her breathing the muscles of her back stiffened. He admired the control that this girl possessed. Not many people that Kaz knew would have such a perfect grip of themselves. Hell, even Kaz himself sometimes dropped the controlled behavior behind and acted a little reckless.

Y/N slowly turned around and the group of three could see the specks of blood on her face mixed with spit.

“Alright, if this is how you want to play. Let’s play.” She pulled out a cloth from her vest pocket and walked to her left where a small mirror was hanged on the wall.

When she was done cleaning her face, she walked back to stand in front of the prisoner. One of the guards walked beside her and handed something that reminded Kaz of a sheathed sword. Y/n took the handle and pulled out a long shiny sword. It was very long, it even was longer than Jesper’s arm. It looked heavy but she held it like it was light as a feather.

“I have always admired the old weapons.” She turned to face the Crows. “All those revolvers, pistols, and bombs, they are boring.” The girl extended her arm and pointed her sword at Kaz while smirking. “There is something about swords and weapons that have sharp and pointy things that excite me.” She glanced at the Suli girl on Kaz’s right. “Wouldn’t you agree with me?”

Inej couldn’t get anything past her lips, so she opted with just a nod.

Y/N lowered the sword and Kaz dared to breathe again. He didn’t even notice that he was holding his breath.

“There is nothing more exciting than feeling the sword digging in the flesh. Feeling the muscles breaking when you turn the sword-” She suddenly looked up at the group and offered a half-embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”

Then the smile disappeared, and she turned to walk closer to the hanged man.

“Let’s play a game. Heads or tails, Kaz Brekker?” Kaz looked up startled and watched how the girl turned to face him, any sign of the embarrassed smile long gone. Two steely eyes were staring into his soul waiting for his answer. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

Kaz knew that it was something to do with the way how the girl is going to kill the man. There was no point in trying to get away from that. The man is going to die anyway. With or without Kaz’s answer.

“Tails.” She smirked while turning to the hanged man. “This is your lucky day. You’ll be able to see me perfectly in the last seconds of your life.” Then she turned to face the Crows once more. “I have many names, yet only one of them is true. I am an Executioner.”

Kaz watched how she turned her head and raised her sword. With one swing sideways, the sword cut through the hanged man detaching the top half from the bottom separating him just above the waist. Kaz could hear Jesper cursing from his left and Inej taking in a sharp breath from his right. But Kaz did not let his eyes wander from the girl whose arm was still extended with the sword. The blood dripping from the weapon and the top half of the dead man.

“This part is my favorite.” Y/N lowered the sword and grasped the hilt in both hands, she supported the tip of the sword against the ground like a cane. Now the only thing missing is leather gloves. Jesper thought while watching the girl who yet again looked exactly like Kaz. “His brain hasn’t fully comprehended the pain and the fact that half of him is missing. Last seconds before he dies, he sees my face and wishes he had done otherwise.” Kaz couldn’t see her face, but he imagined a contented smile resting on her face. “The silent art. What could be more beautiful than this?”

Y/N turned around to face the Crows. One of the guards walked closer with the empty sheath. She cleaned the sword before taking the sheath and putting the sword in it. With the sheathed weapon in one hand, Y/N walked closer to the group of three. She stopped before Kaz and squinted her eyes while inspecting him. Satisfied with whatever she saw, the girl smirked.

“Congratulations. You managed to keep everything inside. So did your friends.” She looked from Inej to Jesper then back at Kaz with a cheeky smile. “Some people have the need to display their previous meals. I’m not a fan of those people.” She then pointed at the guards behind her. “Nor are they. Because, well, they are the ones that are cleaning everything.”

Kaz forced himself to not look at the hanging body behind the girl, not a second longer, otherwise, he too will have the need to display the meal he had earlier this day. He was surprised how Jesper managed to hold himself together. Kaz took a mental note to ask him that after they will be done here.

Soon they left the basement and followed the girl back upstairs. They arrived in the room they previously were in. Y/N walked to the cabinet on the left and placed the sheathed sword on a stand. Then she walked to the front of the desk and her hands crossed on her chest leaned against it.

“Well? You still want to make the deal?”

Kaz knew that there is a possibility that he will regret the decision but there was one thing that forced him to not think about this possibility. There was a reason she mentioned Pekka Rollins. And that reason was simple, she wanted him gone just as much as he. If that wouldn’t be the case, she wouldn’t have bothered with all this play. Therefore, Kaz firmly nodded his head forcing a smirk to appear on the girl’s face.

She stood straight and extended her hand, waiting for Kaz to shake it.

For a moment he hesitated, but then slowly extended his hand and felt her fingers wrap around his leather-clad hand.

And so, the devil made deal with the devil.

A/N: aight let me know what you think. ;))

[notesfromthepalace]

Boughetto is not the Standard! 

What is "Boughetto" anyway! Brunch today was quick due to disappointing company - but as I type my heart away I'm listening to this Jazz playlist that I made a few weeks ago that I didn't know I desperately needed.

Yes, "Boughetto". According to the Urban Dictionary, Boughetto is someone who is wealthy but has poor mannerisms and no etiquette. The person who said this wasn't wealthy though.

(This playlist is so perfect for the Fall season and days at the local coffee shops - in love). I have had this neighbor for about a year now and she is very kind - a little ghetto (beaucoup if you're a French speaker). But in the essence of myself being a nice person, I was just like "maybe I should ask her to brunch. We're both working professional women in the city - why not?! What could possibly go wrong?" - EVERYTHING!

I was dressed casually (and yes I know "casual" means something different to everyone). I had jeans that had a few skids in them, Uggs, simple brown leotard top accompanied with a beige trench coat, golden shades and a Louis Vuitton bag - light makeup and hair with some volume, layers and life.

I walked into the establishment and I didn't see her at first - that should've been a sign since we were the only Black women there, she should've stuck out like a sore thumb. But she was so poorly dressed. That's why I didn't see her. She had on these jeans that stopped under her muffin top and a sweatshirt she obviously doesn't sweat in because it was too small. And she was on the phone being loud - which is two pet peeves of mine. One, anytime I go to dinner, Bruch, lunch, whatever, I ALWAYS put my phone away. I think it's rude to be on your phone when you're suppose to be engaging in conversations. Two, speak with your inside voice - eye roll.

Then we're sitting - mind you she already ordered a drink. I asked for a coffee, filled only half way up so I could add sugar and cream. Then she goes "CAN WE ORDER NOW!" - like girl!

We order, they take our menus, and they bring my coffee. I tell the waiter the cup is too full can you bring me another cup so I can dump half and she says "I'll take it - just bring her another one". The waiter was about to take the coffee and she then says "I SAID I'LL TAKE IT". He comes back with my new coffee and she's upset for some odd reason and says "so I can't get cream and sugar on a plate like she did?!" and I'm just thinking like you didn't even order a coffee.

Did I mention that when the waiter brought her cream and sugar she used the handle of the knife to stir the coffee - chilllllleeeee the absolute G H E T T O!!!

I can't even get into the rest of her poor mannerisms, just know I was highly embarrassed, annoyed and regretful.

She had made a comment about my appearance while we were eating like "omg girl - hair, nails, makeup - you're just all made up aren't you?!". I am trying so hard to refrain from swearing but at that point I really wanted to call her a female dog and just ask like "are you serious?!" - stank face and all.

I just brushed it off because I'm a lady but at the same time I should've left when she was on the phone at volume MAX.

Then she commented on my watch: "ooooh I see that gold watch girl it's nice" and when people make comments like that - I feel like you would set me up to get robbed, and I don't trust it.

We were leaving and walking away and she said to conclude "you're really bougie, I'm boughetto so I get it" NO! You don't get it!

I'll keep the rest of my comments to myself but the moral of the story here ladies is boughetto is not the standard, a standard, a way of living, etc - unless the standard for your life is in the pits of hell, literally.

Stay pretty, stay classy - and not boughetto.

With love,

Sarah Chanel

[barzzal]

between halls and thin walls → part two

summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(

↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*

↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!

note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)

You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.

To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.

“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.

Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.

“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.

“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is. 

Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.

‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.

“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.

“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”

He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself. 

“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.

Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.

“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards. 

So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier. 

“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess. 

“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones. 

Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.

“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”

“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.

“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.

You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.

Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?” 

With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. 

“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”

“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage. 

“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?” 

Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.

Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.

“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse. 

“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”

Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.

“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.

“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.

“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life. 

“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.

“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you. 

“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.

You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.

“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand. 

You were fucking unbelievable.

Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning. 

“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.

With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.

Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth. 

“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water. 

“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.

“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?” 

“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.

“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.

Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong. 

“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go. 

Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.

You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.

That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you. 

Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him. 

Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily. 

You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.

“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.

You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over. 

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table. 

𖥸

If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice. 

He was just that damn good. 

As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that. 

It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself. 

You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning. 

You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on. 

The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back. 

Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly. 

“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.

You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”

They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice. 

You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know. 

In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.” 

“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more. 

Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods. 

“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom. 

“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice. 

You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.

𖥸

“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 

Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed. 

“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.

The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest.��

Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.

The Proposal, to be exact.

You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad. 

The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together. 

Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times. 

Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.

Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring. 

Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.

When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated. 

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere. 

Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”

“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch. 

“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.

You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.” 

Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.

Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out. 

Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention. 

Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.” 

Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction. 

“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief. 

Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.

You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek. 

Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye. 

Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.” 

Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way. 

Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible. 

A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”

“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.

“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.

You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.

“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.” 

Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.

𖥸

“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say. 

Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes. 

Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him. 

What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you. 

Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it. 

However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.

All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it? 

That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.

Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.

A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door. 

“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.

“Hi.” 

“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.

Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”

You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being. 

“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.

To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”

Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame. 

You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.

Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze. 

Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more. 

“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.” 

Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.” 

“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself. 

“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him. 

Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head. 

He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”

There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air. 

Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.” 

You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself. 

The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end? 

A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part Eight (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)

Sorry for such a long delay!! It’s my little boy’s first birthday this week so I’ve been running around making arrangements and picking up last minute presents! Hope you enjoy this little chapter. It’s only 3K words, but it is a build up ready for the next chapter which will contain smut! Not full blown smut (I don’t think Mycroft is ready for that yet!) but still smutty nonetheless!

I will separate the smutty bit enough so that you can skip it if you want, but it will be referenced later on in that chapter!

Word Count- 3062

This morning differed from the last few that you had experienced since staying at Mycroft's home, namely because Mycroft had awoken before you this time, but also because it was the first morning you had ever been awoken by long fingers prodding at your forehead. That and also because, despite last night's late events, you managed to arise at a reasonable 9am.

"Did you know there are a lot nicer ways to wake somebody up?" You questioned, opening your eyes to see Mycroft staring at you with a slight frown to his brow. He retracted his hand slightly and shifted to sit a little higher.

"You know, Sherlock as a child once woke me in a similar way. I felt small scratches on my eyebrows and woke up to see him crouched over me with a smug little grin on his face. As it turns out, he had slipped sleeping pills into my cup of tea before bed and in my slumber covered my eyebrows in toothpaste." You covered your mouth with your hand and snorted slightly. "He'd come in to see if there was anything left beneath them, which, of course, there wasn't.. claimed it was just an experiment. I'd like to laugh and be more dignified about it upon looking back, but I struggle because he was only six and already a sod."

"Okay, you've proven there are in fact worse ways to wake up." You didn't make big deals out of it, but every time Mycroft welcomed you a little more into the stories of his youth, you can't help but feel your heart warm. It may not seem like much, but coming from Mycroft, a very private man who hasn't been treated the best over the years, it meant everything. You stretched and moved your hands up to rub your eyes, flinching a little as your fingers brushed against the bit of your head above your eyebrows. "Bugger." You winced, poking again and feeling a small lump.

"I was going to warn you but you laughed at my traumatic eyebrow removal story." You groaned and recalled your memory of last night and where you believe the bruise originated from.

"I jumped into bed last night sulking a bit that you wouldn't talk to me and uh.. misjudged.." Mycroft snickered slightly from your side, you swatted his arm. "Tit. I'm blaming you. This wouldn't have happened if you didn't go all Han Solo in carbonite on me." You spoke playfully, letting him know you weren't truly peeved.

"I thought you said it was cute?"

"That was clearly a concussion talking." You stretched once more and climbed out of the bed, walking over to a mirror above a dressing table and rolling your eyes. "Might need your special government powers to clear out the cafe else Ms Woodall will think we've had a domestic." Bernice Woodall, owner of one of your favourite little cafes settled on the outskirts of St James' Park was a very.. particular lady. She could have a good laugh one moment, and start a quarrel with a customer over the amount they stir their tea the next. But, you'd have to admit, she has one hell of an all day breakfast menu; you could practically taste one of her omelettes just by thinking about it, making your stomach growl loudly.

"I would but, if I am to be very honest, she genuinely scares me a little. I think she could overthrow MI5 so I daren't even try." You stood and moved into Mycroft's bedroom, grabbing your bag of clothes and picking through a few of the pairs of your jeans Anthea had brought and scanning through the t-shirts. Your fingers brushed over the creases of the shirt that had formed from being stuffed in the bag and frowned.

"Perhaps it would be more suitable for you to pop those in one of the chest of drawers? I'm sure I have at least one drawer empty.." Myc's voice came from behind you and you fell from your crouching position, clutching your heart.

"You and your bloody spy legs, you just scared the shit out of me." You stood back up, your pile of today's clothes in one hand and the bag of the rest in the other. "Giving me a drawer in your place already? Ooh Myc you are serious." You grinned playfully, following him as he guided you to a set of drawers in the opposite corner of the room. Mycroft halted and opened his mouth to make some kind of comment but you cut him off, placing your folded clothes inside the Edwardian furniture. "Only teasing.. I'm just glad you haven't kicked me out yet. Though I don't think my own bed will ever feel as comfortable as yours. I might not want to go back now you've spoilt me, you'll just have to be blunt when you're bored of me." You winked at him and carried your outfit into the en suite bathroom to get ready. Mycroft headed over to his wardrobe to pluck out his own clothes, electing to remain somewhat casual for your trip to breakfast with a pair of navy chinos and a lighter blue button up before muttering slightly under his breath.

"And if I never am?"

In the rare parts of his life where he allowed to imagine himself getting into a relationship, Mycroft had never expected himself to be overwhelmed with so much emotion so quickly, but with you it was almost as though he had no control; as though there had been so many pent up feelings over the years that they just seem to have exploded without any rational thought behind it. And whilst these were all new to Mycroft, and how he still wasn't entirely sure about everything that he felt when it came to things with you, the only thing he was positive about was that he didn't want it to go. And that meant not wanting you to leave. Which was ridiculous. You had just under two weeks left together until you would be needed back at work, and he would have to return to fighting on Britain's behalf, but the thought of you not being at home to greet him when he finished, or him not being able to pick you up in one of his cars from the Yard to take you both home made him feel a sense of disappointment. He shook himself from his thoughts when you emerged from the bathroom fully dressed.

"On second thoughts, I may take the risk. I'm not sure I can have members of the general public associating me with a Sex Pistols fan, no matter how humerous you may believe that top to be." You walked out proudly wearing your 'God Save the Queen' t-shirt with a grin. "You are aware tha-"

"That when the Sex Pistols released their song 'God Save the Queen' in 1977 it was around the same time of The Queen's silver jubilee and thus it was banned for a while on the premise of being 'bad gross taste'? You've only mentioned it every time I wear this shirt.. Though if your research extended enough then you'd know Paul Cook said it wasn't written specifically FOR the jubilee.. So if one of Lizzie's spies catch me in the act, I shall make a very sincere apology." Mycroft took his own clothes into the bathroom to get ready himself and scoffed.

"But I AM one of 'Lizzie's Spies'." He mused, leaning slightly against the doorframe after settling the outfit on the counter. You turned around on your heel and stood up on your tiptoes, pushed him more forcefully against the doorframe and placed your hands on Mycroft's cheeks, pressing your lips softly against his. His shock subsided before he kissed you tentatively, his hand resting on your lower back. You pulled away after a moment and ushered him into the bathroom to get ready, closing the door behind you and leaving him still slightly red faced and confused.

"Consider that my sincere apology." You headed over to the dresser and began to tie up your hair. "But hurry up, I'm starving." You called, moving the hairbrush too low and brushing against your bruise, making you wince loudly. From the bathroom, you heard Mycroft's voice before the sound of him brushing his teeth.

"Head?"

"Well I was thinking more along the lines of breakfast, but who knows what the day will bring." You heard the sound of Mycroft choking on his toothpaste and wished to whatever deity out there that you could have seen his face. Yes, you had promised to try and be less overbearing with your comments but he walked into that one. You grinned and sat down on the side of the bed, briefly scanning through your phone before Mycroft emerged, his face still burnt a red as deep as the burgundy sweatshirt he had paired with his outfit. The fact he had come out at all at least let you know that your joke hadn't taken it too far.

"You're a minx."

"And you wouldn't change it. Now let's go!"

---

Only 20 minutes later had you both be found sitting comfortably in Ms Woodall's cafe, tucking into your respective meals- with you noticing, but not commenting on, Mycroft eating comfortably until the last bite of toast was gone, a sense of pride warming within you. Not too long after, Bernice herself headed over to clear up your tables.

"I trust everything was up to standard?" She asked, piling your plates onto her little trolley and offering top ups on your drinks.

"Splendid as usual, Ms Woodall." Mycroft smiled, accepting his new cup of tea and cradling it comfortably between his long fingers.

"Still proving to be our favourite place for breakfast." You praised, your hand reaching out to fondly brush against Mycroft's before taking your coffee into hand. Bernice watched your movements and raised her brow knowingly.

"Took the pair of you long enough. I had been half tempted to abstain from feeding you here until I got one of you to say something, it had started making me feel a bit sick watching you eye each other up each time you'd get up to order something." You rested your elbow on the table, hand covering your mouth as you let out a laugh.

"Yes, well, I can't promise you the ogling will stop on my behalf." You teased.

"And why should it? Mr Holmes in those posh little outfits is enough to make anyone swoon." And with that she had headed back out into the kitchen again.

"There you go, Myc. Should anything happen to me, my replacement is only round the corner."

"Mmm, and she does make a rather good cup of tea. Perhaps I shouldn't wait that long." His lip raised slightly in a smirk as he took a sip of his hot beverage.

"Oh really? Need I start getting possessive; stand my ground?" Before Mycroft could quip back, Ms Woodall had returned with a plate of biscuits in hand.

"Means you've already answered my next question, anywho." She hummed, placing the plate down between you and perching on the corner of the table beside yours. The pair of you gave her a questioning look and she continued, pointing up to her own forehead. "Tony and I were just as bad at the start of our marriage. Anywhere and everywhere we could get our hands on each other, I ended up with bumps and scrapes from alleys, the backs of cars, even in that one restaurant toilet that time.." You choked on your coffee and Mycroft all but dropped his teacup. "Oh don't act so ignorant, even us oldies had sex in their time." Your eyes caught Mycroft's and you could see him stifling down a laugh, biting softly on his knuckle- which, in itself, shouldn't have been as attractive to you as it was, but it is what it is.

"And with that thought, we best be off. Got a movie date planned." You commented, coughing down your own laugh as Bernice continued.

"Though to be fair it never stopped, all that spontaneity. Even towards the end, he could be like a lad of nineteen with how it was. God the positions, you'd have mistaken me for a gymnast and he could last for ages. I'd just lie there wondering 'will this pleasure never end'?" You could feel tears prick at your eyes as your laughter began to break through. "And then of course once Tony passed a couple years ago it all stopped. Shame really, all those years together, ending how it did.. Though sometimes I'm not sure if it's him that I miss or his massiv-"

"Ms Woodall we really should be going, thank you for breakfast." Mycroft hastily threw a few £20 notes on the table, far too much to cover your meal but enough to distract Bernice while tugging your hand and beelining for the door. Once safely distanced from the apparent nymphomaniac cafe owner you had to stop in your tracks to let out a laugh, Mycroft's hand still in yours as you doubled over.

"I can't believe she said that! She's so open."

"Evidently." Mycroft's comment set you off again, his laughter following, ignoring how you caught the attention of a few people passing by. "I do hope you are in no rush for breakfast there again any time soon, I don't think I can look her in the eye for a good while."

"Still so sure on replacing me with her so soon? I think she'd break you."

"Or turn me into a whore." You snorted and settled back to walking.

---

"Drink?"

"Please. Tea, hold the sexual history."

"I'll try my very best, though, much like my tea, I imagine my list would be abysmal in comparison to old Ms Woodall." You flicked on the kettle, eager to replace the half drunk coffee you had discarded on the cafe table in your escape from listening about pensioner sex. "Will you load up the movie?"

"No. But I shall get the film ready to go.. How the American dialect found its way back to England will never fail to disappoint me." You had followed him into the room shortly after, mugs on the table and settled on the sofa beside Mycroft.

"You know, typically, when people elect for a movie day, they don't choose the tenth movie in the series to watch first." You grinned, tucking your legs beneath your body in an attempt to get comfortable. You continued your shuffling movements and heard Mycroft's voice.

"I believe we both agree that Carry On Cleo is the superior of the 31 movies for, well, a multitude of reasons." He trailed.

"I shan't object. It's sweet that you remember it's the first one we watched together.. Had it not been for you hearing Kenneth's famous 'Infamy, infamy' line persuading you to come over, I fear that I'd have been set up with one of Greg's mates by now, sitting in a pub nursing a G+T."

"I never said I remembered that."

"You didn't have to. You and I both know that your favourite was always Carry on Camping."

"Yes, well.. Opinions change with experience."

"Is this our equivalent of a patronus? Yours has changed and matched with mine? Very cute, Myc. Might I expect you in a 'Never Mind the Bollocks' shirt next week?" You teased, electing to lay down with your head lightly using Mycroft's thigh as a pillow, feeling grateful when he didn't shove you off with a comment about ruining the linen of his trousers, and instead took to softly brushing his fingers over your head, narrowly missing the purple bump each time.

"You'd have better chances of catching me running naked down the street."

"Is that a promise?" A flick to your forehead.

"Just play the bloody film."

---

By the time the film had finished, your cheeks had hurt from smiling and your eyelids had felt heavy. Whilst getting up at a reasonable hour had felt like an achievement this morning, the lack of sleep from the previous night was beginning to catch up to you.

"Myc? Would it be entirely improper to nap on the sofa when there are multiple reasonable beds upstairs before continuing our films?"

"Only about as improper as it is to have a midday nap when you're not a young child." You shifted your head from his lap and sat up, ignoring the fact that you actually did end up ruining the linen of his trousers with the crease of your skull.

"Let me rephrase. Mycroft, would you be willing to break your proper posh boy streak and nap with me on the sofa?"

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to deviate from one's usual behaviours in order to satisfy those one holds dear."

"That's a yes, right? Good, lay down, else I may just collapse right at this moment." Mycroft's sofa certainly was a significantly bit bigger than those usually found in somebody's front room, but it was still nowhere near wide enough for two people to lay with distance. Even still, he followed your request and rotated his body, lifting his long legs to rest down the side of the sofa while you slid into the gap beside him. He eventually circled his arm beneath you and rested his hand on your hip, your face softly brushing against the comforting material of his jumper. "If you drop me, I will be holding you accountable." You mumbled, shifting your body closer to his. He merely hummed, his hand slightly bunching in your shirt and his arm tightening. "I'd always hoped you were secretly a cuddler."

"Make a point of it or tell Sherlock and I'll throw you off." You couldn't even think of a witty comeback before your slumber had taken over, the smell of Mycroft and the sounds of him breathing overstimulating your senses. Mycroft being a secret cuddler hadn't been as much of a shock to you as it probably should have, but you welcome it completely and feel incredibly thankful that he trusts you enough to let you be that close to him, to feel his body in such a way. And you would embrace that- and him- as long as he would let you.

[wonhosbuttflower]

Hurts Like Hell

Pairing: Demon Chan x Human Reader (fem)

Genre: Demon AU; Fluff; Light Angst; starts as Suggestive and ends with Smut; “Fuckbuddies/Friends with benefits to lovers”.

Words: 6,1k

Summary:  You (human) and Chan (demon) are “friends with benefits"/”fuck buddies” and you both have other casual sexual partners, but you only have a true emotional bond with each other. Admitting to it is a different story though...

Warnings/Details: open relationship (context/mention); promiscuity (mention); cursing/offensive language; possessiveness; dry humping and choking (blink and you’ll miss it); unprotected sex (please wrap it up, guys, this is NOT a good example, practice safe sex, use a condom); lots and lots of ‘I love you’; cringey moments.

Note: Chan is an incubus, a sex demon blessed with lust, one of the seven deadly sins. The reader is human, but she has been blessed by a demon at birth, in this case, Lucifer. He blessed her with pride, another deadly sin, corrupting her soul with it but making her stronger than “normal” humans. Unlike humans, demons don’t have souls, but they have “auras”, which are their demonic personal essences.

Y/N – your name / Y/M/N – your middle name (if you have one) / Y/L/N – your last name

..................................................................................

He sits comfortably on the black armchair in the bedroom while you're on top of him, sitting facing him with your legs swinging over the edge. The make out session had started out hot and heavy, but it was turning into a softer and tamer one as time went by. What had started passionate and impatient had turned into an intimate moment of pure affection between you two. Eventually, you rest your face on his shoulder, taking in his scent as he holds you firmly in a warm hug. You both close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of simply being together. After about a minute, which seems like hours, he breaks the silence in the room.

'Can we just stay like this forever?', he asks in a low voice as he plants a playful kiss on your nose, which makes you scrunch before showing him a smile.

'Hmm, excuse me, who are you and have you done to Chan?', you let out jokingly without opening your eyes.

'What? This is nice.', he defends himself. You look up at him.

'Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love doing fun things with you, baby… It’s my favorite activity.’, he smirks. ‘But we always do that… I’m just saying, it’s nice to have a moment like this every now and then, to relax and just… I don’t know, to just be with you, doing absolutely nothing.’, he adds, grabbing your hand that was touching him and intertwining his fingers with yours.

'Yeah, it is, actually. But wouldn't you rather do other things forever? Like, fun things… Because I can think of a few things for us to do.’, you say, suggestively, slipping your hand under the fabric of his t-shirt to feel his abs.

‘Okay, now I’m officially worried. Since when would you choose to “do absolutely nothing” rather than having sex with the hottest girl in town?’, you joke.

‘Well, I get to be with you either way, so I win.’, he smiles and gives you a soft kiss. ‘What’s wrong with just staying like this for a while? You like it too, don’t even try to deny it.’

‘Sure, I like it… But you’re acting weird today. Actually, scratch that… You’ve been acting weird lately. So, what’s that about, what’s going on?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I don’t know, we just… You’ve just been really… hmm, nice, I guess. Like, you’ve been… sweet.’, you explain, making him chuckle.

‘Isn’t that a good thing? Why do you sound like you’re complaining? Do you not like it when I’m nice?’

‘I don’t know… I mean, I do, but it’s weird. I feel like something’s changing, and I don’t understand it. Sometimes I think you’re avoiding me or something. And now you’re passing on sex for a cute hug? You have to admit that’s kind of suspicious. Like, it’s fine, if you don’t want to do this, we…’

‘It’s not that, princess, I promise you.’, he cuts you off before you can finish.

‘Then, what’s the problem?’, you ask, letting go of his hand and rising up from where you laid against his chest to face him, hooking your arms around his neck for support.

‘I just… I have to be more cautious around you. You’re dangerous.’

‘What? What are you talking about? You’re a demon, for fuck’s sake. And I'm the dangerous one?’, you let out confused. He smiles, amused.

‘It’s too addicting… It’s like my own personal drug. And if I’m not careful, I might actually physically get hooked on it… I might get hooked on you.’, he says as he kisses your shoulder, then your neck, and finally, your lips. ‘Hell, I’m not entirely sure I am not already addicted. This is getting out of control, I’m starting to crave you… In a very literal way. And if this goes on much longer, that’s it, I’ll always keep coming back for more… and more… I won’t be able to stop myself. You won’t be able stop me.’, he finishes, looking at you with a mix of intense desire and deep fondness.

‘Your voice…’, he softly grabs your neck.

‘Your taste…’, he rubs his thumb through your lips, and you can’t help but gently suck on it for half a second before he continues.

‘Your scent…’, he leans forward to breathe in against your collar bone.

‘Your body…’, his hands travel from your shoulder blades down your back and stop to slap your ass playfully before resting on your hips.

You drink in his words as if you need them to survive. You have never felt so wanted, so adored, so… loved. You want to tell him you wouldn’t stop him, because the truth is that you’re already gone… You are already hooked on him, you need him. But the growing stinging inside you quickly lets you know you can’t simply say that, so you default to flirting to try distracting him.

‘You’re assuming I would want to stop you. But why would I want to do that? I’m fucking an incubus, I’m having way too much fun to end it.’, you tell him with a smirk but a pinch in your chest for not being able to tell him what he means to you.

‘I’m serious.’, he tells you, half confused, half frustrated.

‘So am I.’, you lie.

‘No, Y/N, I mean it. I feel like I’m going crazy, I don’t know what to do anymore… Or what to think. I never know what you feel, what you want.’, his eyes pleading.

‘You do know. You just want to hear it out loud.’, you say as you get off the armchair, feeling uneasy with the conversation.

‘Then why won’t you say it?’, he questions, his voice getting higher, letting his impatience and irritation show.

‘I can’t.’, you simply tell him, walking away from him and towards the bed.

‘Of course you can! You just don’t want to.’, he shoots, getting up himself and walking behind you.

‘That’s not it. I just… I can’t say it, Chan… Not yet.’, you turn to face him. ‘But you’re not an idiot, you know exactly how I feel about you.’

‘Why don’t you just admit it, then?’, he almost begs, grabbing your arms anxiously.

‘Because I’m scared! Okay?’, you shout nervously, getting out of his hold and taking a step back. ‘Because the thought of telling you how I truly feel only to have you play with my emotions is terrifying. Because you have way too much power over me, and I’ve never…’, you take a short pause, as is you’re trying to fight your own thoughts. ‘I’ve never felt so powerless in my life. So, I keep convincing myself that if I don’t actually say the words, then it isn’t real… As if it isn’t real, then it can’t hurt me.’, you stop again, looking visibly uncomfortable as you reach to touch the crook of your neck in a soothing way. ‘Because I don’t think I could take getting hurt by you, I think I’d feel… undone.’, you pause once more.

You reach down to your chest, then your stomach, then your chest again, your face scrunched up as if you’re in pain. Chan doesn’t know it yet, but you are actually hurting… He assumes you’re just being dramatic because you don’t want to look weak by being vulnerable with him, but the truth is you are in an ever-growing agony. You take a deep breath before continuing.

‘And mostly because you’re a demon of lust and sexual desire. So, what reason do I have to believe that this…’, you gesture with your hand between the two of you. ‘Us…’, a distressed groan escapes your lips at the mention of the word, but you press on. ‘That this is anything more than… argh… than your many… usual… conquests?’, you let out between gasps, holding your neck again, as if you’re having trouble breathing in the midst of a panic attack. But this is something else entirely, it’s not panic… it’s deeper and more intense, it’s despair.

‘And by the way, I know I’m not a demon, but I was still blessed by one… You seem to forget that.’, you add, a bit more composed now. ‘I am a literal embodiment of pride… So, admitting all of this shit I just said?… Yeah, this feels like literal torture to me.’, you genuinely explain, even though he assumes you mean the word “literal” as a figure of speech. You did not. Still, he has so much he wants to say.

‘Y/N… I could never hurt you like that.’, he lets out in almost a whisper, as if he’s disappointed that you would think he could do that to you.

He reaches for your hand and makes you let go of your own neck, which he notices is already marked by how desperately you tugged at the skin. Your hands drop down and because you don’t know what to do with them, you just start fidgeting around with your fingers and staring at them to avoid looking him in the eye. He keeps talking though, this time in a normal volume.

‘It’s just… You’re not the only one that’s scared, you know? This is all new to me. You said it yourself, I’m a lust demon, an incubus, all I’ve ever known is that… it’s desire and passion, fantasy and sex… It’s lust and infatuation. That’s what all of my relationships have ever been, it’s all I’ve ever felt.’, he explains. His hand moves to your jaw and he makes you look up at him. ‘But that changed when I met you.’, he tells you softly but with a serious expression. He gently let’s go of your face before he proceeds talking. ‘I think it’s different this time, you're different. You make me feel different. You’ve never been just another conquest, you’re so much more than that. This…Us…’, he takes one of your hands and presses it against his chest. ‘This is real… It’s very real. And it’s more than just sex, it’s more than infatuation. I actually care about you and that’s new to me.’, he softly kisses the back of your hand before letting go of it and taking a step back.

You miss the contact as he moves away. You miss the heat radiating from his body and you miss his sweet scent around you.

‘But seriously, I just tried to tell you how I feel, I opened myself up and you just teased me about it. So, like, can you really blame me for being hesitant?’, he asks. Your mouth opens slightly as if you’re about to say something, but no sound comes out, so he keeps going instead. Your mind is racing with everything you want to tell him. ‘I’m more afraid of losing you than anything else in this world, and that makes me feel powerless too. I’ve never felt like this and that’s scary. I… I think you like me too, but how can I not be insecure if I’m the only one confessing?’, he protests, growing exasperated.

He’s right, and you know he’s right. You want to speak but the raging sting in your chest warns you against it.

‘You keep refusing to tell me how you feel, so how should I feel confident to admit it myself? I need to know I’m not alone in this, because… I don’t think I can keep doing this if you don’t feel the same. It’s too much.’, he adds, his voice going lower than ever, as if all the torment in the world is dragging it down.

All you want is to respond to his plea, to tell him how much you want him, how much he means to you… But you can’t.

‘Please don’t do this right now.’, it’s your time to plead now, your voice nothing but a faint ghost as you look down at the ground to try to distract yourself from the pain. ‘Chan, please… Please don’t make me say it first.’, you beg, one hand moving to scratch your chest while the other carelessly tugs at the hair behind your ear. Your discomfort is too apparent, but his anger takes the best of him in the moment.

‘Why is it so hard for you to say it?!’, he shouts, frustrated. ‘I know you’re proud, but fuck, it’s not like it’s going to kill you to admit it! It’s hard for me to admit too, you know? But I’m still trying! I just need to hear it. I just need to know you feel the same. If you just admit it, then…’, he says, but you cut him off halfway as your own rage takes over.

‘You think I don't want to?!’, you yell angrily. Your eyes start tearing up as the pain inside grows exponentially stronger. ‘I want to, believe me! But I…’, your sentence gets cuts off by an uncomfortable groan. ‘It fucking hurts.’, you say, crouching slightly over yourself as you grab your stomach, clearly struggling with the pain. ‘I do- argh!… I like you!’, you manage to say before you reach for your own neck and almost try to claw your way inside the flesh, trying to get some kind of relief. It feels like you’re burning from the inside out.

‘Wha- What’s going on?’, he lets out in shock at the scene.

‘It hurts! It hurts!’, you cry out, feeling like your whole body is on fire, like your blood is literally boiling inside you, trying to burn its way out. You’re scratching yourself so hard that blood starts showing up all around your neck and chest and shoulders, making Chan finally understand you were serious when you said it felt like torture. He jumps to grab your hands, trying to stop you from clawing your way into your skin.

‘Stop! Y/N, please… What are you doing?! You’ll hurt yourself! Just stop!’, he begs as he tries to control your movements. After a few moments, you seem to calm down enough for him to loosen his grip around your hands, and you takes the opportunity to rub his cheek with your thumb. He leans into the touch.

‘Chan…’, you whisper, managing to show him a smile between the tears running freely down your face. ‘Chan, I lo- AAH!’, your confession gets cut off by a chilling scream and you collapse in his arms.

‘NO!’, he cries out immediately. ‘Y/N, please!’, he begs. Your eyes open after about half a minute and you try to regain your posture, but he quickly makes you sit down on the bed, worried that you’ll faint again.

‘I’m fine… I’m fine, it’s okay.’, you assure him. He stands in front of you as he holds you close, your legs on each side of him.

‘I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, babygirl! Just stop, okay? You don’t have to say anything.’, he tells you, letting go to look at your face. You just now notice the tears in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I know… I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it.’, he continues. You get up to clean away a single tear on his cheek with a soft kiss and then rest your forehead against his.

‘No… I’m sorry. You should get to hear it. I’m sorry I can’t say it.’, he shakes his head slightly as if he’s disagreeing with you, as if he’s saying you shouldn’t be apologizing, but you just ignore it and continue on. ‘I… I want to. I really do. I just… I can’t do it. It hurts too much.’, you confess.

‘Stop, don’t say anything… Don’t say it!’, he begs, kissing your forehead before resting his on it again. ‘Please, I just can’t stand to see you like this… I can’t see you in pain, I can’t take it.’, he declares.

‘I’m fine now, Chan. I promise.’, you smile and kiss his lips gently, without any urgency or passion, just with pure affection. You then take his hands in yours and kiss them too, before deciding to hook your arms around his neck while he comfortably does the same around your waist. ‘It only hurts when I try to tell you how I feel. It’s one of the downsides of Lucifer’s blessing… I can’t say it before you do, because it quite literally hurts my pride.’, you explain, almost entertained with how ridiculous the situation seems.

‘I… I didn’t realize it caused you that much pain. I thought it felt similar to what I feel when I want to sleep with someone but don’t… Like, it’s uncomfortable, it’s kind of this stingy feeling, but it’s nothing like what you seemed to experience. I mean, I know other demons who have been blessed by Lucifer, and they’ve also said that they feel some kind of discomfort, or even some pain when they’re ashamed or something like that… But I’ve never seen them hurting as much as you just did. I… I had no idea, I’m so sorry.’, he lets out, terrified by the idea that he’s the one that caused your suffering with his persistence.

‘Don’t be, it’s not your fault.’, you assure him, as if you can read his mind. ‘You couldn’t possibly know, I mean, even I didn’t know… I’d never experienced that before.’, you say, trying to make him feel better. It seems to work, as you can feel his muscles relaxing up a bit. ‘But yeah, I suppose it’s a bit worse for me because I’m not a demon. I’m human, and my soul is obviously more sensitive to the strain of the demonic burden than your auras are. But I’ve gotten used to it, I can handle it pretty well. And it’s not usually like this… It’s like you’re saying, the ache is usually more of an annoyance than an actual problem.’, you take a small pause to let him take in the information before proceeding.

‘But I guess the pain is proportional to how vulnerable my pride is in the situation. And… You know… I don’t think I’ve ever been in a position where the risk is quite so high. It’s just… It’s too important, it means too much. If I said it and you didn’t said it back, it would destroy my pride completely. It just comes down to that, I guess.’, you shrug your shoulders slightly, trying to look unbothered.

‘I… I never thought about that.’, he lets out, looking up as if he’s lost in his own thoughts. ‘But now that you’re saying it, I’ve never felt quite as terrible as I did the days after I first met you… Before that night when you came to my room… I felt like I was sick.’, he describes, referring to your first sexual encounter. ‘But now it makes sense… It’s because I wanted you, I wanted to take you right then and there, but couldn’t.’, he takes a small pause before looking down and gracing you with a lighthearted smile. ‘You’re crazy though.’, he adds.

‘Arguably true. I mean, at least partially.’, you joke, smiling back. ‘But why do you say that exactly?’

‘How could you ever think I would not say it back?’, he questions, planting a kiss on your lips, then your cheek and finally, your neck. ‘I told you, I can’t get enough of you, princess … I want you all the time, I hate to be away from you… When you leave to go somewhere, I count the hours until I can see you again, touch you again. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I feel like a silly, weak, little teenage human girl when I’m around you, it’s embarrassing!’, he lets out happily, as if he’s mocking himself.

‘Oh, shut up.’, you tell him with a dry chuckle, amused, taking it as a joke.

‘I’m serious!’, he protests.

‘Sure, you are.’

‘Y/N, I mean it. I mean every word.’, he tells you, suddenly very serious.

‘You… Hmm, you’re actually serious right now?’, you wonder.

‘I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. And I’ve never been more sure about anyone before.’

‘Chan, stop… You don’t have to say this just because…’, you start, but he cuts you off.

‘No, I want to say it. I’ve had a lot of lovers over the years, but I’ve never been in love, Y/N. I always thought love was just an excuse humans invented to make themselves feel better over the guilt they have about their carnal sins. Hell, I was sure that shit was a myth…’, he takes a small pause as he rests his head against yours once more and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent. He keeps talking with his eyes still shut.

‘But then you came into my life and made me question everything I thought I knew. You made me believe in the myth. You made me feel… new, and excited, and just… happy. Happy like I’ve never felt before.’, he says, rolling his head a little before opening his eyes to look straight into yours, forehead still glued together. The knot in your stomach clenches more and more at every word coming out of his mouth. You just want to tell him he made you believe in love too. He’s the one still speaking though. ‘You’re my drug, and I can never stay away. Nor do I want to.’, he says.

‘Then don't…’, you let out in a whisper without even realizing you just spoke aloud. He moves his head back to take you all in and gives you the biggest, brightest smile you have ever seen on him, looking so warm, so beautiful, so… perfect.

‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N…’, you start laughing at the use of all the names, but deep down it’s just a nervous laugh.

‘Oh no, please don’t call me that ever again.’, you joke, trying to hide your excitement. He moves one hand from your hip to cup your face and rub your cheek before continuing. Your heart beats so fast that it feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest.

‘Y/N… I love you. I am desperately in love with you.’, he lets out just before pressing his soft, plump lips against yours. You kiss him back as if your life depended on it, your pain finally almost completely gone as a wave of relief crashes down on your whole being. ‘And I’m not even ashamed to shout it out from the rooftops for everyone to hear!’, he teases as your mouths break away, the happiest silly smile plastered on his face. You let out a snorted chuckle at the comment before holding him closer, until your noses are touching. You look up at him fervently.

‘Well, if I’m your drug, then you’re my medicine. I feel like I’m constantly burning from the inside and the only thing that stops the flames from taking over is… well, you. I only feel whole when I’m with you. You, Chan, as much as it hurts my pride to say it…’

‘Oh no, stop. Are you okay?’, he cuts you off, clearly worried that you might be in pain again, despite you showing no signs of it. You laugh fondly at his reaction as you cups his cheek.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry. You already said it, so it’s fine. It’s just a tiny little sting now, it doesn’t hurt, I promise… Because I know how you feel now.’, you explain.

‘Are you sure?’, he insists.

‘I’m sure!’, you reassure him. ‘You wanted to hear it so badly before and now you won’t let me say it?’, you tease him.

‘I’m sorry, I was just worried about you.’, he confesses, planting a quick kiss on your neck, just over one of the marks you gave yourself earlier.

‘Okay, now that you know I’m fine, will you just shut up and let me speak?’, you ask, poking fun at him. He nods eagerly with a shy smile. ‘Thank you. As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me… You, Chan, are the cure to my affliction. And I never thought I’d say this, but… I love you too.’, you finally admit with a warm smile.

It feels like a terrible weight that was crushing you down has lifted from your chest. You love him, and you can finally say it. And he loves you. Nothing has ever felt quite so in place. And now it’s his turn to kiss you passionately and ardently and yet, still tenderly. He’s the happiest he’s ever been hearing the words coming out of your mouth.

‘I’m pretty sure a part of me has always loved you, ever since we first met… I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.’, you say when the instant passes. ‘At first, I thought it was just sexual attraction, you know? But the more I was with you, the more I realized it was more than that.’, you tell him. A moan of pure bliss escapes him as he closes his eyes, enjoying the moment.

‘Hmm, say it again…’, he shamelessly begs. ‘I want to remember the way the words sound in your voice, it feels like music, it’s so beautiful.’, he adds without ever opening his eyes. You smile at the sight.

‘I really do.’, you say, rubbing your nose on his to make him open his eyes and look at you. ‘I love you, Chan.’, you let out on more time and he drinks it in.

‘I…’, you kiss his left cheek.

‘Love…’, you kiss his right cheek.

‘You…’, you softly kiss his lips. He’s still in his own world, taking in every small detail of what you’re saying.

‘I love you so much, baby.’, he lets out and kisses your neck, just where he knows you like it. ‘You’re never getting rid of me now, and I’m not even sorry.’, he teases as he comes back.

‘You won’t hear me complaining about that.’, you smirk, taking his hand and leading him to switch places with you before making him sit down on the bed with you standing between his legs. You take off your top, revealing the bra underneath and he kisses the skin between your breasts, and then your stomach. But then a stray thought pops up on his mind and he suddenly feels the urge to ask something.

‘Wait… so, are you like… my girlfriend, now?’, he lets out with an excited smile. You can’t help but laugh at his expression, thinking he looks like a kid waiting to receive a present on Christmas. ‘Are you?’, he repeats, sounding a little too eager.

‘No.’, with just one word, his smile quickly turns into a pout. It’s like taking candy from a baby.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I hate that word.’, you simply state, moving your legs around to sit on his lap, facing him while resting your own knees on the mattress with your feet under your thighs.

‘I don’t.’, he says with a playful smirk. ‘I never had a girlfriend, I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.’, he adds before licking the skin from your collarbone up to your ear. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his tongue on your body. ‘See? You like me way too much not to be my girlfriend. Come on, just say “yes”…’, he whispers before naughtily biting your ear, teasing you.

‘Do you really care about that?’, you ask genuinely, making him look up at you. He shrugs his shoulders slightly, trying to look not too concerned.

‘I mean, I didn’t think I would, but now that you said “no”, I have to admit, it kind of sucks. I don’t know, it’s not like I’m expecting us to just magically stop fucking other people, I’m just saying… It’d be nice to let them know that, even if they are fucking you, at the end it doesn’t matter, because you’re still mine, and only mine.’, he confesses, his possessiveness coming through in his words. A satisfied smirk comes up to your face as you can tell by his speech and general demeanor that he’s becoming more sexually charged. You take the opportunity to taunt him.

‘So, you just want to claim me… Is that it? Because you don’t need to call me your “girlfriend” to do that, you know? Your dick has done that for you a long time ago, with a little help from your lips, and tongue, and hands too.’, you tease. He seems to not find it too funny though, so you try to be sweeter with your next words. You move a bit, grinding against his evident bulge, and getting closer to him to whisper to his ear. ‘Don’t you see? No matter who I fuck, I always end up coming back to you.’, you say before kissing his cheek softly. ‘You’ve already marked me, already claimed me.’, you add, now kissing his lips with a bit more passion and urgency. You, too, are getting excited.

‘Okay, that’s good and all, but…’, he starts before taking a long pause.

‘But what?’

‘Well, I want to claim your… urgh, I can’t believe I’m saying this, and I will deny it if you ever tell anyone! But… Oh, I hate myself… I want to claim your heart, not just your pussy.’, he lets out shyly. You can’t help yourself and you start laughing vigorously at his comment, so much so that you drop to the side, laying on the bed next to him, clutching your stomach. He turns to you, pouting.

‘Hey! Stop mocking me!’, he demands dramatically as he starts tickling you as revenge. You can barely breathe over his vicious attack.

‘Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! Stop! Please, stop!’, you let out between laughs, finally giving in.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought, princess.’, he says, smugly, as you both sit back up on the bed.

‘Alright, so how about this: instead of “girlfriend”, you could just call me “your girl”…? What do you think?’

‘Oh, please!... Look at your face, you love it!’, you mock him, amused.

‘Wow, I really love my girl.’, he tries it out with a big smile.

‘Yeah, I guess that works.’, he tries to look unbothered.

‘Fine! You can call me whatever you want, just stop being a baby about it.’, you give up.

‘I like “girlfriend” too.’, he argues.

‘Hey, you punks better watch your mouth, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about!’, he lets out as an example. You roll your eyes at him overdramatically.

‘Oh, shut up, you love it too!’, he mocks you right back, grabbing your by the waist and bringing you close to him to kiss your neck playfully. You grab his hair, enjoying the moment. Your excitement soon becomes your main focus as you tug at it to make him look at you.

‘Okay, great. So, now that you’re done… (impersonating him) “claiming my heart”…’, you mock him, landing a slap on your butt as punishment, which you enjoy, as does he, feeling it up nicely afterwards. ‘Can we end all this emotional mush for now, and can you please come and claim my pussy?’, you tease, pulling yourself up to sit with your clothed core just over his ever-growing bulge and moving slightly to give him some satisfaction. The friction causes him to let out a moan and you take the opportunity to sensually bite his lower lip.

‘Hmm, you’re waking up the beast.’, he warns, making you smirk.

‘I’m counting on it.’, you respond, moving your hips back and forth as you pull his shirt off.

You take a second to take in the view. He’s so beautiful with his perfect body… his hands, his arms, his pecks, his abs, all his muscles tensing up with gratification as you ride him. His head tilts back as he enjoys the release your movement grants him, lewd sounds escaping him. You drink them all in as you carefully examine his stunning features, eyes closed and mouth agape with pleasure.

‘Just say it… Say it one more time.’, he lets out, finally opening his eyes to look fondly at you as you move steadily. His voice sounds low and intimidating, but you still welcome it. There is no pleading or begging in it… it’s not a request, it’s a clear and simple command.

‘Don't stop.’, he says, making you realize you had inadvertently slowed down the pace as you got lost drinking him in. ‘Just say it.’, he repeats as he takes off your bra and watches your boobs bouncing with the movement.

‘I love you, babe.’, you say in a seductive tone as you start moving faster, feeling how close he is.

‘Say my name.’, he orders before firmly planting his mouth on one of your nipples and sucking slightly, causing you to moan now.

‘Oh, Chan…’, another indecent sound comes out of your mouth as he licks your other nipple before sucking it. ‘Kiss me.’, you ask him as he pauses to take in a deep breath when you stop your hips. He obliges, giving you a wet and messy long kiss filled with desire and urgency. ‘Chan, I love you.’, you let out in almost a whisper as the two of you break apart, resting your forehead against his. ‘And I want you… I want you so badly right now, I need you inside me.’, you blatantly plead. He stares at you adoringly, as if he’s admiring a piece of fine art.

‘I love you, babygirl. And I can’t believe you’re mine. You’re so beautiful, so perfect, and you’re all mine.’, he lets out, his possessiveness coming out in his words, his tone, his demeanor. All of it just makes you more excited though, so you play into it.

‘You better believe it because I am. I’m yours, Chan, I’m all yours. You can do whatever you want with me, baby.’

‘I want to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week, princess.’, he lets out seriously, his eyes glowing with a spark of pure lust.

‘Do it! Tie me up and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.’, you let out a little too eagerly.

He roughly pushes you onto the bed, your back resting on the mattress as he gets on top of you, his instinct taking over, guided by the flames of desire. In a matter of seconds, he has already gotten you out of your shoes, jeans and underwear, and has stripped down himself to be completely naked. You both enjoy looking at each other for a moment before resuming the activity.

‘No one will ever touch you as delightfully as I do…’, he says as his hand trails from your thigh to your pussy, slightly rubbing over your clit before he moves on to your stomach, your breasts, chest, and finally, your neck, where he gently chokes you for a moment, sending a jolt of electricity down your body.

'No one will ever…’, he continues as he pushes his dick inside you without much care as it easily slipped in with how wet you already were. ‘…fill you up as wonderfully as I do…’, he finishes as he bottoms out with your walls clenching against his member, pressing on the large vein that runs under it, with moans coming out of both of your mouths when you’re not busy taking in each other’s lips.

‘No one… will ever… pleasure… you… as perfectly… as I do.’, he lets out between hard thrusts that make your orgasm dangerously close as he hits your g-spot just right. ‘Hmm, I’m so close, babygirl… Cum with me, cum with me.’, he half begs, half orders.

‘Oh, Chan… Chan!’, you shout, and in a matter of seconds you’re both riding your high together.

‘I’m gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else in this world.’, he says as he keeps pounding into your now oversensitive core just for some extra pleasure. You grab the back of his neck, making him look straight into your eyes. You stare at each other lovingly for a second when he stops moving before you speak, his dick still inside you.

‘You already have.’, you simply say, genuinely, before planting an adoring kiss on his already abused lips. He smiles into the kiss, feeling happy and fulfilled. ‘I always come back to you, babe. I will always come back to you… Because we belong together. No matter how many people we sleep with, it will always be the two of us in the end.’, you tell him. His eyes shine bright listening to your words. You reach down to cup his face with your hand and he kisses the palm softly. ‘Because you’re the only one who really knows me... All of me. Because you're perfect, Chan… You're perfect for me.’, you finish, leaving him feeling as if his heart is about to blow up, in the best possible way.

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part two] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

A failed friend date turns into a day of fun and laughs with a rather odd coworker. [Dazai x 1stPOV!F!Reader]

3,274 words

Warning: suicide ideation (like, it's Dazai, c'mon now.)

note: I'm glad some of ya'll seemed to enjoy chuuya's chapter! I decided to just upload Dazai's and then we can move on to the story. Please enjoy! Tags in the replies.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

"Keiko-- Keiko, it's two PM!" I said into the phone, sending an apologetic look to my coworkers. "And I'm at work. You can't be calling me, especially when you're drunk so early in the day."

"Uggghhhh, you're so mean!" I sighed softly at Keiko's response, the office phone on my desk beginning to ring.

"Keiko, I have to go now, I'm sorry! Call Taichi and tell him to bring you home."

"Wait-"

I ended the call, rubbing my eyebrows as I picked up the other phone. "Armed Detective Agency, how may I help you?"

It's been around three months since I've started working at the Agency, and I have to say, it was a pretty great job. It paid well, kept me on my toes with the many different cases we took on, and my coworkers were great... despite how weird they were.

"That's like the seventh time your friend called you this week," Ranpo spoke up from his desk, the man literally surrounded by snack wrappers.

I sighed deeply, rubbing my eyebrows. "I know, I'm sorry everyone. She's not usually like this... I know she likes to drink, but... never to this extent."

"Maybe there is something going on?" the cute Atsushi suggested and I frowned. "Maybe you can try to find out?"

"It wouldn’t be wise to just push yourself into someone's private life like that," Kunikida added and I nodded in agreement.

Of course I couldn't. Not with who her boyfriend was. I was her best friend, but even I knew not to step in. "Besides, she always says she's okay when I ask..." I said thoughtfully, too distracted to continue my work. I could believe her, right? Besides, she had Taichi. He loved her, and always made sure that she was protected and taken care of. He always made sure to be around her when he wasn't away, keeping her to his side at all times. I thought maybe he was being a bit too protective, but I also understood because of his... profession.

"Alright, alright, we have a schedule, people. Let's not get too distracted here," Kunikida exclaimed and I laughed softly. The only one with a schedule was the super punctual man himself, but I still went on to do my work.

"Speaking of work..." I started, unimpressed as I Iooked to the empty desk across the office. "Where the hell is Dazai?"

Atsushi just hung his head and sighed, Kunikida gritting his teeth at his desk. "I tried calling him but he wouldn't pick up," Atsushi sighed again and I huffed, standing up from my desk. "I'll take my 30 now. I'll be in the cafe and I'll try to get Dazai to bring his scrawny ass to work."

The Agency was on the fourth floor of the building while the cafe was down on the first, very convenient for me. I was lazy and the coffee and food was good. I dialed up Dazai's number as I descended the four flights of stairs, pressing my phone to my ear.

At the top of one flight, I stopped when I heard a familiar ring tone blare out, and when I looked down to the bottom of the stairs, I saw the man of the hour. His brown hair was wavy as ever, his signature tanned jacket looking immaculate. I watched as he just looked at his phone, watching it ring before he put his phone in his pocket.

I hated him. "So you were just gonna ignore me?!" I shouted down the stairs. Dazai whipped his head up, eyes going comically wide.

"Bella!" he exclaimed, practically running up the stairs right towards me. I gasped and back away quickly, back hitting the wall as Dazai caged me between his bandaged arms. His forehead pressed against mine and I will my face not to burn as he looked at me with those pretty brown eyes of his. "I missed you."

My heart skipped a beat, my mouth going dry. Still, I glared up at the man. "We just saw each other yesterday," I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the feeling of his soft breath against my face. I was thankful my voice didn't crack. "And you have plenty of paperwork to do still on your desk."

"Ehhh, I'm tired and I'm busy," Dazai nonchalantly waved that off, now standing away from me and waving his hand dismissively. "Got better things to do."

I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Yeah? Like what?"

With that, Dazai took my hands in his, a hopeful look on his face. Here we go again. "Double suicide."

"No." I immediately declined him. "My answer is still the same as it was last week."

Dazai visibly deflated, covering his eyes dramatically. "Sweet death... she evades me yet again..."

"Yeah," I deadpanned, brushing past Dazai and heading down the stairs. "Anyway. I'm heading to the cafe to get something to eat."

"Oh!" Dazai exclaimed, hooking my arm with his as he quickly came up to my side. "I'll go with you!"

"You have work to do!" I yelled at him, trying to push him back up the stairs. "Go before Kunikida has an aneurysm."

"But I don't wanna!" Dazai whined, quickly turning the tables on me. Now he was behind me, his arms wrapped around me and pinning my arms to my chest. I felt his breath against my left ear and I shivered deeply. "I wanna spend time with you..." he whispered softly, his voice dropping. I bit my bottom lip, looking over at him over my shoulder. I shivered again, the usual brightness in his eyes gone. I've only seen that look on his face a handful of times, and it never failed to make me feel completely on edge. Like I was in danger.

I liked it.

"Ugh," I sneered, rolling my eyes and shaking myself out of his arms. "Fine, fine. I'll treat today, okay?"

"Yay!" Dazai's jovial nature returned as he followed me to the cafe. I shake my head at the strange duality of the man. We sat across from each other, the redheaded waitress named Lucy that obviously had a crush on Atsushi giving us some menus.

As I looked over the menu, I looked over at Dazai, the man humming as he mulled over his choices. I bit the inside of my cheek, just feeling that maybe there was more to Dazai than he let on.

The weekend soon arrived and I was in a bit of a sour mood. I was at the boardwalk, sitting on an empty bench after getting off the phone with Keiko. We were supposed to spend the day together, but she had called me thirty-minutes late, all of a sudden saying that she couldn't make it.

Her tone of voice worried me, she sounded rushed and breathless, totally unlike her. "I'm okay. I'm sorry for flaking out so suddenly," she said before she ended the call. I blinked at the screen, a bit put off by the entire thing. Just what was up with her?

Though I couldn't dwell on it, for there was a presence behind me. "Well, well, look what we have here," a teasing voice whispered into my ear before blowing into it. I shrieked, jumping off the bench before spinning around.

"Dazai!" I hissed at the laughing man standing on the other side of the bench. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Bet it got your heart pumping, huh," Dazai hummed happily, skipping around the bench and right over to me. "Bella, I missed you~" he hugged me tightly in his arms. I sighed deeply, half-heartedly wrapping my arms around him in return and giving him a pat on the back.

"We saw each other yesterday."

"Eighteen hours is too long, bella."

I rolled my eyes, pulling away from the huge and giving Dazai a look. "You're so dramatic, dude," I say with a laugh, shaking my head. "What are you doing here?"

"Hmm, well I thought this would be a great place to think about how to commit suicide," Dazai began and I gave him another look. "But, I saw my bella looking so sad and lonely! I just had to rush to comfort her!"

Dazai hugged me again, squeezing me tight. I let out a struggling breath, writhing a bit in his hold. "You're killing me!"

"Oh! Let's commit do-"

"No, oh my God!"

I turned and stormed away from the suicidal man, shaking my head when I heard him call out for me. "Bella, wait!" He latched onto my arm, pressing his cheek against mine. "Tell me what's wrong. I am your trusted friend and coworker~"

"More like trusted pain in my ass," I mumbled before sighing, walking over to the boardwalk railing and staring out into the ocean. "It's Keiko. She was supposed to be with me today, but she just called and canceled..." I frowned deeply, eyebrows pinched in worry.

"What else did she say?" Dazai asked quietly, having gone serious once he saw the look in my face. "How did she seem?"

"Off..." I answered immediately before I looked over at my companion. "Or am I just imagining things? Yeah, I'm disappointed she flaked out but...." I hung my head. "I don't know..."

"Well, it could be nothing," Dazai suggested. "Or it could be something. There's no way for you to know."

I made a face at his vague ass answer before sighing again. "I can only trust her. She was the first friend I made when I moved to Japan, and I was excited to see her today. I've been having a rough time lately."

"Is something bothering you?" Dazai asked, and I shivered feeling his gaze on me.

"Eh... just depressed," I answered offhandedly. "Lonely. Normal sad girl shit, ya know."

That made Dazai snicker under his breath. "Yeah, I know. But luckily for you," Dazai started, arm draping around my shoulders and pulling me to him. "I'm here to save the day!"

I couldn't help it, I laughed before I wrapped my arm around his middle, letting him hold me against him. "You'll hang out with me today?"

Dazai grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

Time flew by so quickly, that I was surprised to look at my phone and see that it was damn near seven in the evening. Gaping, I looked up, seeing that the sky was slowly turning dark. "Holy crap, Dazai. Did we really spend the whole day out here?" I asked in shock, looking over at him. "What the hell did we do?!"

"What didn't we do," Dazai whined, slumping against me. "I'm tired... and you still wanna ride the stupid ferris wheel!"

"It's not stupid," I said with a pout. "Besides... we're already in line."

"Meh," Dazai grumbled, still keeping his body pressed against me as we waited in line. He was behind me, his chin pressed on my shoulder. I tried not to shiver as I felt his breath along my neck.

Soon enough, we were in our carriage and slowly riding up to the top. I took a few pictures as we did so, Dazai looking over in amazement.

"You think the drop from up here would kill me?"

"Yeah, and would scar everyone here."

"Oh yeah... can't have that."

I rolled my eyes, glancing over at him and pausing for a bit. Dazai was still looking out over Yokohama, an expression I've never seen before on his face. He almost looked... sad. Very handsome, his side profile absolutely perfect. But he still looked sad. I took a quick picture, smiling as I looked over it on my phone.

The carriage stopped and I couldn't help but grin as we just swayed softly up in the air. "Thanks for spending the day with me, Dazai. It would have sucked if I had spent it alone."

"Ahh, don't sweat it, bella. I couldn't possibly leave you out here alone," Dazai answered dramatically and I laughed and rolled my eyes. 

I felt a vibration in my pocket and I grabbed my phone, smiling at the cute selfie that Keiko sent to me.

'I'm so sorry for bailing! I'll make it up to you, I promise! ❤ mwuah'

"Is that Keiko?" Dazai asked and I nodded, sending her a quick reply.

"Yeah. She seems to be doing okay," I said, feeling a bit relieved.

"That's great!" Dazai exclaimed, getting up from his spot and carefully making his way to sit beside me, much to my horror.

"Dazai! We're not supposed to move around!"

"We're fine!" he waved me off dismissively. "Now you can stop worrying about Keiko and focus on what's important. Me."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You?"

Dazai hummed. "Yes, me. And how I'm taking you home tonight."

My jaw drops, face heating up at his words. "Wh-what are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Dazai answered, his voice dropping a bit as his gaze and entire mood changed. His gaze was darker now, his lips curled up in an almost dangerous smirk. "I think it's time we stop tiptoeing around each other and just take what we really want."

My mouth went dry and I quickly became flustered, turning my head away. Immediately, a hand is grabbing my face, Dazai digging his fingers into my cheeks as he forces me to look back at him.

"Nuh uh, you look at me when I'm speaking."

His authoritative tone makes me freeze, heart pounding in my chest as I stared at Dazai, completely bewildered. I knew there was something more about him than he had let on, and whatever it was, had me in fight or flight mode.

"Now, when we're done here, we're gonna leave and head back to my place, okay?" he asked me, but his tone made it seem like it wasn't a request, and it sure as hell didn't match the seemingly innocent smile on his face; not when it didn't reach his eyes.

I nodded, Dazai removing his hand from my face. His smile sent shivers down my spine.

"Good."

"Mmn... fuck, Dazai..." I moaned and gasped softly, the man on top of me littering my neck with angry red and purple marks, two of his fingers working inside my pussy. I was completely naked on his bed, Dazai only in his underwear-- and his bandages still wrapped around his arms and chest.

"Hey, what did I tell you?" Dazai whispered against my neck, curling his fingers and smirking when I cried out. "Call me Osamu. Don't make me tell you again."

I frantically nodded my head, crying out again as he sped up the pace of his fingers, his mouth moving down to my chest. "F-fuck, Osamu!"

"That's it," he whispered, taking one of my hardened nipples into his mouth. My fingers curled into his soft brown hair, head tilting back and eyes screwing shut as Dazai continued to pleasure my body.

It wasn't long until he pushed his hard cock into my wet pussy, the both of us groaning at the feeling of us finally connecting. I was on my knees and elbows, pillow placed under my hips. Dazai started out slowly, biting his lip as he watched his dick disappear inside of me.

"Fuck... I'm gonna burn this sight into my memory," Dazai groaned, making me whine as I shook my head.

"D-don't stare like that..."

Dazai chuckled softly, his hands grabbing my hips as he started to move faster, thrusting harder. I moaned and whined, it seemed to be the only thing I could do while Dazai fucked the shit outta me. "Osamu... please..."

My whining made the man above me grin widely, his thrusts becoming rougher, almost wild as he suddenly reached out and grabbed a handful off my hair. I yelped when he yanked me up, my back now pressed against his chest and his other hand wrapped around my throat.

"What is it, bella?" he hissed into my ear, pounding away at my pussy and making me cry out again. God, it was too much all at once. "What does my pretty little subordinate want?"

I whined. "I want to cum... please Osamu..."

He cackled, pushing me back on the bed, grabbing my hips so hard, I knew I was gonna bruise. "Cum then," he hissed down at me, pushing my face into the mattress. He fucked me relentlessly, fingers finding my clit and rubbing harsh circles. That made my vision go white, my scream muffled as I came hard, body going rigid as pleasure overtook my body.

"Shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Dazai grunted. He pulled out, ignoring my whines as he stepped off the bed. "Get on your back."

I barely rolled over halfway until there was a strong grip on my ankle, my body being pulled down the length of the bed. Dazai stood at the end, wasting no time in pushing my legs back by the back of my knees, and plunging his cock back into me.

I looked up at him through teary eyes, and I knew I should have been afraid of the mad look that was in his eyes, the way his lips were curled up in a snarl. But it just made my pussy clench around him in arousal, eyes rolling to the back of my head.

I came a second time as he did his first, and much to my ultimate pleasure, we weren't finished there. We pleasured each other through the night, until we wore each other out and fell asleep entangled in the sheets.

I woke up the next morning, groaning in pain as I felt my body ache. I forced myself to sit up, looking around blearily and humming softly when I found Dazai sitting on the edge of the bed, his bare back to me.

"Good morning," he sang to me and I giggled softly, carefully moving to kneel behind him. The blankets fell from around me and I pressed my bare chest against his back. "Hm, that's nice."

"Morning," I said softly, peeking over his shoulder. "What are you do-"

I stop, staring as Dazai wrapped seemingly clean bandages on his heavily scarred left arm. I swallowed thickly, my mind running at what could have possibly been the cause of those scars.

But deep down, I knew that the cause was Dazai himself.

"Do... Do you have enough?" I asked softly, not knowing what else to even say. I didn't want to pry or seem insensitive, just having to get over this metaphorical punch in the gut myself.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Dazai answered, turning to face me with a cheery smile on his face. In a matter of seconds, I was flat on my back, Dazai on top of me with his lips pressed against mine. It was easy for him to make me forget about what I saw, his kisses stealing my breath away.

"I have to go," he said softly, pushing himself off me after a moment.

I nodded solemnly, watching him continue to get dressed. "Alright. See you at work tomorrow?"

He smirked at me. "You know the answer to that."

I rolled my eyes again, just as my phone started to ring. I grabbed it, sending Dazai a quick smile before answering the call.

"Hey Keiko, guess who got fucking laid." That made Dazai snort while I grinned, though my grin fell as I didn't hear Keiko go off like I thought she would. "Keiko?" I shared a look with Dazai.

"Hey... I need you. Can I come over?"

[btswrckd]

War of Hearts II

Mafia Boss!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with Kim Taehyung does not mean you have to be civil. Or make his life easy.

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions o weapons, mentions of blood, slight angst, next chapter will be smut

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Taehyung isn’t sure how you can sleep through the night after the little stunt you’d pulled, but he finds himself tossing and turning through most of it. When he does finally manage to fall asleep at the fun hour of 3 o’clock in the damn morning, he’s woken an hour later by the dipping of the bed from your side. “Going somewhere, princess?”

“I have to pee,” you snap, “or will you be holding my hand to the bathroom as well?”

“Is that an invitation?” He grins, tucking one arm behind his head. Huh. Maybe you aren’t as well rested as he thinks. Maybe you’d spent the night just as frustrated. At least he isn’t alone in that.

“Shut up, Tae.” You stomp across the room and slam the bathroom door behind you. You can hear him laughing from the other side and silently contemplate shoving him off the bed when you return. You hadn’t slept, body anticipating his touch every time he moved but it never came and then you’d deflate in disappointment. You don’t know what time he plans on starting his day and hope it’s soon because you need space. You need room to think back on last night and figure out where the hell your sudden boldness came from. Where had you gotten the idea to touch him from? You were pretty bitter about the incident in the living room, sure, but to play a dangerous game like that? 6 months ago, you wouldn’t even dream of it. Now you’re panicking in the privacy of your personal bathroom because what, you actually want to sleep with your husband? You’re fairly sure you won’t be the first woman having sex with her own husband, but still, it was Taehyung. Tae. The chubby cheeked little kid who’d been your partner in crime at boring dinner parties that both yours and his parents attended. What kind of audacity did he have becoming so fucking attractive? Who allowed this?

“Are you going to actually use the restroom?” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he leans against the doorway. “Or can I brush my teeth?”

You didn’t hear him open the door. You hadn’t even locked it like you usually do. You’d forgotten and that irritates you. It means you’re letting your guard down when you can’t afford to. Not today of all days. You look at him, see the hunger swirling in his eyes, and your stomach drops because it’s been a very long time since any man has looked at you like that. “What time is it?”

“4:30,” he responds with a sigh, rolling his neck to release the tension that built overnight. “Why are you up so early, princess?”

“Why are you?” you fire back quickly and see him grin. He’s always known that you have a habit of deflecting when you can’t answer a question or explain yourself. His eyes drift down to the purple bruises around your neck, a lasting result from his mouth yesterday, and he smirks. You step back when he pushes off the door jamb and stalks forward, lightly gripping your chin.

“I wasn’t able to sleep,” he answers your question, “because my wife likes to play games and leave me with the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had.” He watches your breath hitch and his smirk grows wider. “Then she runs into the bathroom and forgets to lock the door after winning said game from last night. As if I won’t come in, bend her over the sink, and play my own little game.”

“Just brush your teeth, Taehyung!” you squeak, shoving at his chest and rushing out of the bathroom before your mouth has a chance to ignore your brain, and most likely ask what kind of game he’s talking about. You throw yourself on the bed and burrow beneath the blankets in hopes of disappearing.

Taehyung doesn’t actually brush his teeth. He didn’t really need to. It was the only excuse he had for checking up on you after 30 minutes of silence. He does, however, splash cold water on his face to cool the heat spreading through his body. Last night is still very fresh in his mind and just being near you sets him off. He makes his way back to bed, falling onto the mattress and praying he’ll get a few more hours of sleep.

You peek out from underneath the blankets when he sighs, burying his face into a pillow. His nose scrunches up in discomfort. You know that it’s because he can’t fall asleep, can’t stop thinking about last night, despite having to be up soon to do...whatever the hell he does. Truthfully, you won’t be falling asleep either, even though you really need to if you’re going to pull off what you have planned for the day. Scooting closer, you see his eyes drift open in silent question, but you dip beneath the weight of his arm and tuck your head to his chest. His breathing stops for a moment before his hold tightens and he shifts onto his side, nuzzling his face into your hair. It’s this way, snuggled up to Taehyung, that you finally fall asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

The shrill ringing of the alarm clock has you jumping in Taehyung’s embrace. You swear you had just shut your eyes before the screeching woke you, but looking at the time, you see that it had actually been 4 hours later. Taehyung blindly reaches for the clock, pressing random buttons until it finally quiets down and wrapping his arm around your waist once more. The shuffling of feet outside the bedroom door alerts him to Jungkook’s presence and the hushed tones of someone asking how he’s still alive alerts him to Jimin’s company as well. Right. He’d forgotten that they’d be taking you on another book haul after he’d ruined the one from yesterday.

At first, he had shut down the idea entirely when Seokjin texted him after his shower. Seokjin insisted that you be out of the house by the afternoon and Taehyung insisted on tearing his head off if he kept on with that nonsense. But Seokjin had just gotten a call from Namjoon and Hoseok that they were on their way back, and that they’d contacted Cecil for a meeting. To which Taehyung responded by reiterating that you needed to stay in the house until it was dealt with. He doesn’t remember how Seokjin had convinced him to let you go, but he had, and now he’s supposed to wake you up to get ready when he doesn’t want to.

“Princess,” his voice is groggy and barely audible, but you stir nonetheless. “Jungkookie and Jimin are going to take you somewhere today.”

“Where?” you mumble into his chest, brushing the tip of your nose beneath his chin.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.” You shift against him, tossing one leg over his hip.

“This one you will.” He smiles against your hair and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s not like you to deny going out.”

“When I have more energy to burn, I like going out.” You don’t know why, but you’re working your mouth against the skin of his neck, teeth playfully nipping at him. “Not when I’m running on 4 hours of sleep.”

“Even if it means getting to pick out a new book?” He teases, and you’re up in a flash, stumbling to the bathroom to get ready. Your love for books and knowledge rivals Namjoon’s and between the two of you, Taehyung isn’t sure how there’s not a daily debate on whatever topic either of you bring up. Yesterday, when you’d rifled through half the shelves at the store, you resembled a kid in a candy store.

“Boss.” Jimin knocks on the door as Taehyung gets out of bed to answer it. He grins at Taehyung when he sees the look on his face. “Morning, boss. How’d you sleep?”

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Taehyung snaps at him in return, yet Jimin merely laughs. “I don’t care if she brings home the whole fucking store, as long as she makes it home, am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Jimin nods, side eyeing one upset looking Jeon Jungkook and gesturing to him. “If it makes you feel any better, Taehyung, you’re not the only one who thinks she should stay in.”

“Are you saying she should be out and about with everything that’s going on?”

“I’m saying that despite whatever progress you’ve made as a couple,” Jimin clarifies, “if she continues to feel suffocated, she’ll lose her mind. You’ve seen it happen.”

Taehyung opens his mouth to argue with him when you duck beneath his arm, fresh faced and dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, a jacket hanging over your arm, and the backpack you’re sure to fill with books. You step up next to Jungkook, nudging his side with your elbow and not so subtly tilting your head Taehyung’s way.

Jungkook looks like he’d rather vomit than say whatever is lingering on his tongue, but you pin him with a look that says he’d better spit it out. “Yesterday,” he clears his throat and looks to his feet as he addresses Taehyung, “I was out of line, boss.”

Jimin reels back in shock, Taehyung following his lead. Jungkook is still young and while he makes for a great marksman and an even better fighter, his mindset can be hard to crack through. Though he’d never been defiant against Taehyung, he could still be stubborn in his ways and would sooner chew off his own arm than admit he was wrong. So, this is what you were up to last night. Taehyung had known you’d been texting Jungkook, he just didn’t know what about and had honestly forgotten all about it until now.

You give Jungkook another hard nudge and when he shakes his head, you stomp on the top of his foot. Both Jimin and Taehyung raise their brows at the way you dig your heel in until Jungkook finally caves and lifts his foot to get you off.

“Arlight!” Jungkook hisses in pain and resists the urge to kick off his shoe to see if you’d broken any bones. “I shouldn’t have overstepped and it won’t happen again.”

“Let’s go,” you announce with satisfaction and shoulder past Jungkook, who limps after your retreating figure.

Jimin waits until you’re both out of sight to throw his head back and roar with laughter, nearly toppling over as he wheezes. “Sh-She really made him apologize. She got the most stubborn person on the planet to say he’s sorry. Oh, my God, I really think she’s my new favorite person.”

“She most likely did it for his benefit more than mine.” Taehyung is still unable to fully process what just happened. “Losing Jungkookie as her bodyguard would devastate her.”

“Even so,” Jimin gasps as he tries to catch his breath, “she still got him to admit he was wrong. That was gold. I should have recorded it.”

“Yoongi probably already did.”

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Namjoon and Hoseok arrive back at the house not long after you leave, refusing to believe Yoongi’s tale of Jungkook’s apology.

“No way.” Hoseok shakes his head. “Jungkook would rather shoot himself in the foot than admit he was wrong.”

“Hobi’s right,” Namjoon agrees with a nod. He’s sitting in the chair next to Yoongi’s in the security room while Taehyung and Seokjin prepare for Cecil’s visit. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I got it on camera.” Yoongi snickers, pulling up the feed from this morning and pressing play.

Namjoon and Hoseok simultaneously wince when you shove your foot into Jungkook’s and put a good amount of pressure on it for some time. They listen to Jungkook apologize without really using the words ‘I’m sorry’, but it seems to be good enough for you. It’s when he limps after you that Namjoon and Hoseok share an amused look before bursting into laughter.

“Jimin is so lucky he was there.” Hoseok wipes at an invisible tear as Seokjin steps into the room with a questioning look.

“Do you 3 mind getting your asses in gear and getting the hell out here?” Seokjin scolds them. “Cecil just pulled through the gate.”

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi right themselves before following Seokjin to the living room where Taehyung is already waiting. They move to stand behind him just as Cecil strolls in through the foyer. All but Taehyung sneer at him and the two men at his side.

Cecil is an old, sweaty, greasy excuse of a man that couldn’t be more than 5’5. He’s balding, though he attempts to cover it up with a toupee, his stomach hangs over the waistline of his pants, and he smiles with crooked and yellow teeth. Even his appearance could be looked past if he wasn’t such a piece of shit person. Before Mr. Kim had gotten involved, Cecil had dabbled in human trafficking, mostly targeting women and girls 13 and older. When Mr. Kim had begun building his empire, Cecil was desperate to work underneath him, but Mr. Kim had demolished the trafficking ring Cecil had run in response. Cecil had exploded and accused Mr. Kim of being a hypocrite when Mr. Kim himself had dealt in drugs and assassinations. Mr. Kim admitted to being an awful person, but neither he nor anyone wishing to work with him would ever deal in people. Needless to say, Cecil had never gained Mr. Kim’s trust and very few people chose to work with Cecil anymore. Everything about this poor excuse of a man is nauseating.

“Kim,” Cecil greets with a sneer of his own, “you’re very much like your father, aren’t you? Sticking your nose in my business where it doesn’t belong.”

“Your business with the Seong family is my business, Cecil.” Taehyung peers at the two men flanking either side of Cecil. “What do you want from them?”

“Who says I want anything?” Cecil taunts. “I saw a pretty face and wanted it for my collection. I wasn’t aware she was a Seong girl.”

“And my wife,” Taehyung informs through clenched teeth. “You were aware that this is my home, and that she lives here, so why the fuck are you really circling around here, you greasy son of a bitch?”

“I knew this was your home when my boys scoped it out.” Cecil nods, observing the living room carefully. “I just thought the Seong brothers put her under your protection. I had no idea she was your new whore.”

Fire flashes in Taehyung’s eyes, nostrils flaring, as he steps in Cecil’s direction. “My original plan was to find out what you wanted and be done with you. Now the only way you’ll be leaving here is in pieces.”

Namjoon and Hoseok advance on the two men Cecil has with them. The men fight, but they’re no match for Namjoon and Hoseok, going down quite easily. Seokjin and Yoongi draw their guns quickly, both cocking back the firing pin as Cecil panics.

“I’m not the one that’s after her!” Cecil admits, hands raised in surrender. “I don’t know who is!”

“Don’t fuck with me, Cecil.” Taehyung raises a hand to stop Seokjin and Yoongi from pulling the trigger.

“I’m not!” Cecil insists. “It’s like this, okay? I’m sitting in my office one day, giving over some books for a new product I want to move when I get a call from a number that’s untraceable. They tell me to look into the Seong family, that there’s only one living girl left, and they want to get their hands on her. They tell me I’m the only one who can get it done, and they wired $1 million into my account as payment, but by the time I got to the Seong brothers, the girl was gone. She’d been moved and I told them that the next time they called. They were the ones who told me where to find her, they were the ones who set up the plan to trick your cameras, I just had the perfect lackey, that’s all.”

“What else do they want from her?” Yoongi is the one to ask, hand shaking with rage at the thought of someone getting to you.

“They didn’t say. Just that they wanted her.”

“Boss.” Namjoon looks panicked, and Taehyung is about to ask why when the sound of the front door opening hits his ears.

“Fuck,” Taehyung hisses, swiftly barreling into the foyer. He relaxes when he finds that his father is the one coming through the door. “Dad, you should have called.”

“I did.” Mr. Kim pats his son’s shoulder. “Y/N said she was out and that you’d be busy at home.”

“Why did you call Y/N?”

“Because she’s my daughter-in-law,” Mr. Kim states as if that should have been enough of an explanation, “whom I happen to adore very much, so if you’re done lecturing me, then shall we proceed?”

Taehyung guides his father back to Cecil and his unconscious men, nodding his head at Namjoon when he’s met with a questioning raise of Namjoon’s eyebrow.

“Mr. Kim.” Hoseok beams at Taehyung’s father as he looms over one of two beaten men.

“Always a pleasure, Hoseok.” Mr. Kim returns his smile fondly before turning his attention to Cecil. “I’m not at all surprised that you’re behind this, Cecil. I am, however, surprised that you were stupid enough to believe you could get away with it.”

“My men are expecting me back soon,” Cecil informs the room and is less than enthused to find that Mr. Kim’s smile has not faltered. “If I’m not back, they have orders to swarm this place and swoop down on your girl, Kim.”

“Of course.” Mr. Kim nods at his declaration in the same way a mother would do to a child that’s spouting a lie. “I believe you, Cecil, I truly do. Unfortunately for you, there are no men left to wait for you.”

“What have you done?”

“It’s been brought to my attention that perhaps I’ve been too lenient with you and that I’ve killed men for far less than you’ve done. I plan on fixing that, starting with the complete eradication of your entire syndicate. Well, what’s left of it, anyways.”

“This is your son’s mess,” Cecil bellows, feeling his knees shake at the new information being given to him. If what Mr. Kim said rings true, then he won’t be able to rebuild. He’d already been hanging by a thread as is. “But here you are to clean it up for him while he runs around playing ‘boss’. Pathetic.”

“This isn’t a mess,” Mr. Kim corrects him with a dangerously straight face. “Nor is it something for my son to handle on his own when it affects the entire family. This is us coming to a solution for a problem that will soon cease to exist.”

Hoseok and Namjoon rush to Cecil with a wave of Mr. Kim’s hand, gripping him by the shoulders and dragging him back through the front door to Mr. Kim’s waiting car. They wrestle him into the back seat where two of Mr. Kim’s men sit patiently.

“You’re sure all of his men are dead?” Taehyung asks his father.

“Every single one,” he assures. “We’ll handle Cecil from here. It’ll get bloody and your mother’s used to seeing it on my hands. Y/N hasn’t had to clean you up after a job yet, I’d like to help you keep it that way.”

“Cleaning him up isn’t exactly what she’d do,” Hoseok jokes upon his return to the living room. “More like make him sleep on the couch.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes while his father and Hoseok share a laugh. He doesn’t argue against Hoseok’s joke because it’s true. Though it would be more from being pissed off that he’d get into a fight in the first place than it would out of concern for staining an expensive set of sheets. When his phone rings, he barely hears it over the ruckus that is his father and idiot friend, but he fishes it from his pocket when he finally does hear it. “Jungkook.”

“She’s gone,” Jungkook is panting from having run around the entire bookstore and then around the entire neighborhood.

“What the fuck do you mean gone?!” Taehyung’s voice booms so loud that Seokjin and Yoongi drop the two men they’d been working on disposing of. “Where?! How?!”

“She went to the restroom, but never came out.” Jungkook can feel his chest tightening with each passing minute. He needs to find you. Not just for the sake of his own life. For the desperate need to make sure you’re still alive yourself. “We took all the precautions. No one was in there when she went in. We kept watch, boss, I swear on my life. She just never came out.”

Yoongi doesn’t need to be told to hop onto his tablet and tap into your phone. His fingers are already racing across the screen when Taehyung turns to him. Mr. Kim is rushing out with his own phone to his ear, barking orders to search the entire city, shut it completely down if need be. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Seokjin feel helpless when all they can do is wait for Taehyung’s command. They could attempt to hack your phone, but that’s what Yoongi’s for, and if he can’t find you then they for damn sure won’t be able to.

Taehyung is running through every possibility in his head and finds nothing to clue him in as to where you could be. Yoongi’s frantic ‘I found her!’ has everyone gathering around him, Taehyung’s nostrils flaring at the location on the screen. He still has Jungkook on the phone, informing him that, “We know where she is, Jungkook, calm yourself now. Get Jimin and meet me back at the house as fast as you can. We’re going to pick her up.”

“You want us to ride with you?” Namjoon asks, the concern in his eyes quickly morphing into anger. If anything had happened to you…

“No,” Taehyung sighs as he hangs up the phone. “I want Yoongi and Hoseok to go talk to the Ahn brothers. They have eyes and ears everywhere. I’m sure they can give us some answers.”

“I’d rather go with you,” Hoseok chimes in. “Y/N has a tendency to listen more when I’m there.”

“Everyone has a tendency to listen more when you’re around, Hoseok,” Seokjin points out.

“Which is exactly why you’re going with Yoongi to the Ahn brothers.” Taehyung begins dialing his father’s number into his phone, hoping to stop him before his men turn over the entire city.

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It’s the second month of your marriage when you finally get your phone and laptop back. You comb through both of them to make sure they still work the way they’re supposed to. Yoongi had promised that he didn’t delete or alter anything and you’d snorted in denial. Taehyung had taken them for a reason and if Yoongi was the one returning them, then they’d both definitely been tampered with. You were holed up in your room for hours, answering emails and text messages, scrolling through Instagram and Facebook to catch up on your friends’ lives, editing pictures that you’d promised Soyoung weeks ago, and called the HR department of your job to confirm if you even still had one. They had seemed confused by your questions and had let you ramble on like an idiot before informing you that the leave of absence paperwork you’d submitted had been approved, and they were looking forward to whenever you were ready to return. It was after the phone call that you realized Taehyung had been the one to submit LOA papers on your behalf. That sneaky little son of a---.

“Y/N?” The tapping of Jungkook’s fingers on your door startles you. “Dinner’s ready. You haven’t eaten all day. If anything’s gone wrong with your phone or laptop, Yoongi will fix it. So, please come out and eat something.”

Your heart melts at his tone, looking to the bedside alarm clock to find that it was nearing 9 o’clock in the evening. Resisting the urge to face palm, you scramble out of bed and race for the door, throwing it open. “I’m sorry, Jungkook, I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Is everything okay?” He steps back to give you space to move, shutting the door behind you and following along to the dining room. “Is there a problem with your stuff?”

“No, no,” you sigh, shaking your head and running a hand through your already messy hair. “I just lost track of time catching up on some things. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Didn’t you get hungry at all?”

“Not when I get busy doing things,” you explain and laugh at the expression on his face, a memory coming to mind. “Namjoon gave me that same look the other day when I was reading a book I borrowed from him. I guess I hadn’t been out of my room all day and missed lunch and dinner, so he came looking for me. I told him that when I was a kid, my mom used to lose her head when she couldn’t find me. At the time, I didn’t fully understand how dangerous it was to wander off by myself. Anyways, her and my dad would tear the house apart looking for me. Turns out, I’d ended up being curled underneath my bed with a book in my hands. The second I learned how to read, I never stopped. It drove my parents nuts because I would become so engrossed in a book that I wouldn’t pay attention to the world around me. They complained that I needed real friends, not imaginary ones, and set up playdates with their friends’ kids. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I actually had made friends, through the equal admiration and love for a specific book.”

“You must miss them,” he notes and winces at the sheer stupidity of it. Of course you miss them. “I’m sorry. That was a dumb thing to say.”

“No,” you smile at him. “I miss them very much. I was 14 when they died, so they didn’t get to see me grow into adulthood. Some days it’s a little harder than others.”

“I’m sure they would have been very proud.”

“Not if they knew what a huge nerd I stayed,” you joke and earn yourself one of his rare bunny smiles, teeth, dimples, and all. “They never met any of the friends I still have now. Soyoung, Yunhee, and Bora are the same girls who’ve stuck by me for so long. Soyoung was actually the girl I met who loved the same book she’d caught me reading like a loner during recess one day.” You laugh fondly as you recall the start of your friendships. “Or attempting to read, I should say. A few annoying boys from our class had taken the book from my hands and played a little game of keep away. Soyoung saw them, came over, knocked the biggest one to the ground, and challenged the rest of them to a fight. They ran away and Soyoung spent the rest of the time sitting with me to make sure they didn’t come back.”

Jungkook isn’t sure what he’s done to deserve the retelling of a happy memory, but he doesn’t stop you from talking, even when he finally steps into the dining room where Taehyung is already waiting. When he sees Taehyung, he attempts to interrupt your story, though he doesn’t as Taehyung shakes his head with a slight smile on his lips.

“That was the first time I knew what protection was,” you continue while staring off into space, not yet noticing Taehyung standing from the table. “Sure, my parents had their own version of it, but having their security guards around wasn’t the same as having someone around that actually listened to you.”

“Princess.” Taehyung almost laughs at how high you jump in place. “Are you ready to eat something?”

With your trip down memory lane on hold, you walk past him to sit at the table. You think maybe you shared a little too much with Jungkook. For two solid months, you’d managed to hold off giving up your friends’ names, even when Taehyung had offered to have them brought over to stave off your boredom. Nothing had ever sounded so tempting and had you said yes, it would have undoubtedly been an amazing day. Still, you can’t risk their lives for your own selfishness. You look down to the plate filled with carbonara, your favorite, and bite back a smile because you know it was Taehyung’s idea to have it served. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile when he had held your phone and laptop hostage for two months.

Taehyung sits beside you as Jungkook stands just a few feet away and Jimin comes in to stand at the other exit. He sees your eyes squint with suspicion and almost tells you that he’s expecting a guest. Instead he taps gently on the table to get your attention. “Is there a specific reason you didn’t eat anything today? Or so much as leave your room?”

You give him a sideways glance, jamming the fork left for you in the pasta. “You had my phone and laptop for the last two months, Taehyung, things piled up.”

“And catching up was more important than eating or seeing the sun?”

“I wasn’t hungry and I prefer the moon to the sun anyways, so yes, catching up was more important.” Only half of that is true and just barely. It’s not that you weren’t hungry at all, it’s that you didn’t notice you were hungry until Jungkook had come to fetch you.

Taehyung rests his elbows on the table, rubbing at his temples and hearing Jimin snicker in the corner of the room. “Princess---.”

Suddenly you lean in close, propping your chin in the palm of your hand and hoping neither Jimin nor Jungkook can hear the next words about to come out of your mouth. Your gaze drops to Taehyung’s lips and then flickers back to the intensity of his eyes, the corners of your mouth tilting up. “Will you fuck me, Tae?”

Taahyung chokes on his own spit as you sit back, satisfied at having rattled him. He’s 100% sure you’re not serious and it’s payback for what he pulled the day he took your computer and phone. Lifting a hand to his mouth, he clears his throat and peers at Jungkook, then Jimin, who hadn’t heard what you said but laughed at Taehyung’s expense all the same. When his eyes land back on you, they’re met with a cat-like grin on your lips, your teeth biting down on the steel fork as you shove pasta into your mouth.

“Cute,” he comments dryly. He’s not completely unamused but he won’t be cracking a smile soon either. You had called him ‘Tae’, a nickname reserved solely for you to use when you’d gifted it to him as children. As a kid, it melted his heart when you would call out his nickname and he would do anything you asked. Now, it brings on an entirely different reaction and he’s adjusting the way he sits, and he knows you know why he’s squirming in his seat.

“Something wrong, Taehyung?” You pretend to be worried, hearing Jimin take a step in the direction of the table in case something was wrong with Taehyung. “You look uncomfortable.”

“I know you’re fucking with me,” he rasps through grit teeth and Jimin freezes in place. “But on the off chance that you’re not, the answer is ‘yes’, princess, I will fuck you tonight. I’m so glad you asked.”

Jungkook lets out an awkward cough as a deep blush creeps up your neck. He looks over at Jimin, the older man nearly doubled over in glee with a hand covering his mouth. He thinks he should step in and give you an excuse to flee, but truthfully, you really should have known better.

“You get on my fucking nerves, Kim Taehyung,” you hiss and hear Jungkook hiccup at the bold way you speak to Taehyung. With a quick glance, you can see his eyes go wide and jaw drop before he looks at Taehyung in a panic.

“Relax, Jungkookie,” Taehyung chuckles darkly, completely abandoning his food in favor of reaching out to grip the back of your neck to pull you close. “I’ve killed for less, you know.”

“Then by all means,” you challenge, have no qualms about matching his glare, “kill me, Taehyung.”

“How charming,” someone quips from the dining room entrance and you snap your head up to look for the unfamiliar voice.

“Hoseok,” Taehyung leans back in his chair and lets you stew in panic for a minute. “You finished your assignment early. You’re not due back for another few weeks.”

“I got impatient.” Hoseok shrugs in response, eyes darting to you. “Ah, so you’re Y/N. I have to say, you’re much prettier than Taehyung gives you credit for.”

“Is that so?” You manage to relax at the familiarity between your husband and this new stranger.

“He really doesn’t do you justice,” Hoseok teases, watching Taehyung tense. “Relax, boss, I’m not going to steal your wife. Though if she happens to fall for my charm then it’s really not my fault.”

Taehyung hears you bite down on a laugh and rolls his tongue against his cheek in irritation. With your attention still on Hoseok, he takes the opportunity to invade your space by leaning in close.“Finish your food, princess, and then go to bed.”

“I’m not a kid, you know.” You turn to him, breath hitching at his proximity. Moments ago, you’d been too pissed to care how close he was, not to mention how mad he was himself. But his face had softened in the last few minutes, now looking at you as he always did.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Taehyung offers, hand coming up to twist your hair in his fingers. “You finish your dinner and I’ll give you anything you want. Sound fair?”

“I want to go back to work.”

Taehyung sighs and leans back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Anything but that, Y/N.”

“That counts as anything, Taehyung,” you argue through clenched teeth. “You don’t get to change the rules because you don’t like what I’ve asked for.”

“It’s not safe for you to go back to work right now.”

“Then I’ll take Jungkook with me.” You’re not opposed to begging, not if it gets you back to work. “My cousins used to have men watch over me at my job all the time. As paranoid as Joongki is, he still let me go to work, that’s a testament to how uneventful that place is.”

“The answer is ‘no’.” Taehyung’s voice is firm as he sets his jaw. There are many things he’d be willing to bend on. You leaving the house is not one of them. “Don’t pout at me like a child or like I’ve kicked your puppy. You asked, I answered, and now you deal with that, am I clear?”

“Are you, really?” You push away from the table with so much force that the chair nearly falls backwards in the process. “Or are you going to change your mind when it suits you?”

Jungkook moves behind you quickly should Taehyung decide he’s had enough of your attitude and goes back on his promise to never harm you. He isn’t allowed to stop whatever Taehyung may do, but he is allowed to stop it from going too far.

“Sometimes I think you forget how hard I can push back.” You glare down at your husband. “And how painful that can get for whoever I feel like putting in their place.”

Hoseok lets out a whistle of appreciation after you storm out of the dining room with Jungkook hot on your heels. He looks at Taehyung, chuckles at his tired state, and sits at the table while Jimin decides to join them. “She’s a handful, Taehyung. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“She’s not a handful,” Taehyung counters lamely because what Hoseok just saw definitely seemed like a handful. “Y/N’s lived like this her entire life and, unlike most of us, doesn’t embrace it.”

“Certainly sounds like she does.” Hoseok plucks the glass of water from where you previously sat and takes a sip. “Or does she only talk like that when she’s throwing a fit?”

“Believe me when I say if she plans on putting someone in their place,” Jimin finally speaks up, “she’s going to do it brutally. You’ll feel pretty stupid afterwards, too, so you should do what you can to avoid arguing with her, Hobi.”

Hoseok snorts. He won’t be intimidated by some girl who thinks she can handle the cruelties of this life just because she’s grown up around it. So has he, but he’s never been arrogant enough to throw out an attitude like that, especially not to a fucking boss of all people. Maybe if Taehyung wasn’t so whipped, he’d teach you what respect is.

“I’m serious, Hoseok.” Jimin is no longer smiling when Hoseok turns back to him. He recognizes the look in Hoseok’s eyes and doesn’t like it. If Taehyung, the one who actually gets a say in how you’re treated, says to never lay a hand on you no matter the circumstance, then all of the boys are to keep their damn hands off. His friend is far from abusive, Hoseok simply respects the chain of command with more passion than anybody. If something threatens that, then he’ll do what’s necessary to protect it. “If you can’t handle Y/N’s attitude, then you stay the hell away from her.”

Hoseok watches Jimin march out of the dining room, rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek before facing Taehyung. “First Jungkookie looks ready to throw himself between you and her in the middle of a fight, and now Jimin thinks he can just go around threatening anybody. That girl’s power trip must be contagious.”

“We’ve been friends for a long time, Hoseok.” Taehyung curls his hand into a fist on the table and notices Hoseok’s eyes dart to the action. “But if you can’t respect Y/N, then I’ll toss you right back where I found you, rotting in the gutter.”

Hoseok looks down at the table and smiles, not at all bothered by Taehyung’s threat. “She reminds me of your mom. Y/N’s so much like her that I flashed back to the Christmas of our senior year in high school. Remember that?” He doesn’t wait for Taehyung to answer before he continues. “Your father had promised that year’s Christmas to be a work free one, but when she’d caught him on the phone, dealing with another shipment, she lost her mind. She screamed at him, hit him, threatened to disappear from his life if he didn’t get his shit together.”

Taehyung laughs at the memory. “Everyone had been home that Christmas. My grandparents, my aunts, and uncles. They all watched my big bad father get chewed out by a woman who could barely reach his shoulders. They likened it to a pitbull being afraid of a chihuahua. I think that’s why my mother loves Y/N so much, because she doesn’t take anyone’s shit.”

“So she has momma Kim’s seal of approval, huh?”

“The only girl who ever has.”

“You did bring some pretty mean trainwrecks through her house.” Hoseok teases him, though his smile drops as he becomes serious once again. “I know Jimin thinks I’ll hurt Y/N if I think she’s overstepped, but I won’t. If anything, I look forward to watching you cowering under the hateful gaze of your wife. It’ll be the most entertaining thing that’s happened in a long time.”

“All of the boys are excited to watch that happen.” Taehyung shakes his head.

“Are you going to let her go back to work?” Hoseok tilts his head in question. “It won’t be too bad if Jungkook’s with her. Maybe she’ll even let Jimin tag along.”

“I can’t take that chance right now. Joongki might have let her work, but there weren’t any threats against them at the time. Now someone’s after the Seong brothers and if they can use Y/N to do it, they will.”

“This is the Y/N you’ve been obsessed with since you were a kid, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t obsessed,” Taehyung insists. “At least not in a creepy way.”

“She’s married to you,” Hoseok points out. “The girl you’ve been hopelessly pining after since you were a teenager is now your wife. Tell me that doesn’t sound like a creepy stalker.”

“Shut up, Hobi.”

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Standing across from Taehyung in the break room of your workplace, you grip the strap of your backpack tight and clench your teeth. You should have known better. Honestly, you almost didn’t run off because you knew he’d come chasing you down eventually. Even more honestly, if you didn’t actually want him to know where you were then leaving your phone somewhere miles off would have been the best idea. You’re aware of the ‘discreet’ tracking app that Yoongi had installed on the phone, hiding it amongst the music files as if you hadn’t memorized each and every one.

Coworkers gather around to watch the spectacle Taehyung has created. Some have the decency to pretend they’re not being nosy while others whisper to each other about the handsome stranger you’re facing off with. Most women are trying their hardest to catch his eye, but his focus is solely on you. It drives the women nuts and you almost smile at the thought until Jimin and Jungkook flank Taehyung on either side.

You almost flinch at the look of betrayal on Jungkook’s face. He was in charge of you, of your whereabouts and needs, and you ran from him. You’d snuck off from right under his nose and sent him into a panic, leaving him with no other option than to dial Taehyung. His anxiety subsided when Taehyung calmly explained that he was sure of where’d you be, thus leading them to this moment. You want to explain, to tell him that deceiving him was one of the hardest decisions you’ve made in a long time. There’s relief in his eyes, obviously, but there’s also anger and pain. “Jungkookie, I---.”

“Y/N?” Your friend and ex-boyfriend, Seojun, questions as he enters the break room. He scans over Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin, sensing the anger rolling off of you in waves. He steps in your direction to make sure you’re alright. Being broken up doesn’t mean he can’t still care about you. When your eyes cut to him, he catches you wince before the deep bass of Taehyung’s voice recaptures your attention.

“Princess,” Taehyung grits out in irritation when your attention shifts elsewhere. A smirk lights up his features when your eyes dart between him and the man who’d just called your name, panic crossing your features. You don’t want him to know who this is and that’s something he can use to his advantage. “You could have easily avoided my being here if you hadn’t snuck away from Jungkook. You really hurt his feelings, sweetheart. Look at him, he’s heartbroken.”

“Shattered into a million pieces, boss,” Jungkook deadpans, earning himself a spiteful glare. Tilting his chin and raising a brow, he silently questions why you’re the one who’s angry when he’d been running around like a chicken with his head cut off for the past two hours.

“Something of his will be broken soon, but I can assure you it won’t be his heart,” you snap, making Taehyung grin his rare boxy smile that you’d possibly return on any other day. Now though, now you want to slap the smile off his annoyingly handsome face. You see Jimin take a cautious step away from Jungkook in hopes of protecting himself and admittedly, it almost makes you giggle. Jimin always knows how to make you laugh even on the darkest of days, yet as he stands at Taehyung’s side, you know who he’ll always remain loyal to.

Taehyung’s heavy sigh slices the tense air and he’s in front of you in a matter of seconds, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He can see the internal struggle you have to not recoil at his touch or slap his hand away. Maintaining a public image is something drilled into someone as soon as they step into the mafia life, but he figured you’d be angry enough to not care in front of your coworkers, and expecting you to blow up at him. When you don’t, he suspects it has something to do with the women who haven’t stopped ogling him since he first walked in. “Interesting,” he voices aloud and you jump at the way his fingers slide along the length of your jaw before he tucks his thumb, tilting your chin upward.

Your breath catches in your throat as he steps closer, bridging the gap between you two. It takes everything in you to not bite the thumb currently skimming across your bottom lip. The last time you’d done that, Taehyung had taken it upon himself to return the favor by biting down on the pulse point of your neck. You don’t need a repeat of that incident in front of your coworkers. A sigh escapes you when he wraps his free arm around your waist and nuzzles his face in your hair.

“You don’t want me,” Taehyung whispers in your ear, playfully nipping at it, “but you don’t want them to have me either, do you, princess?”

You grit your teeth, dropping your forehead to his chest, and using your hair as a curtain to hide your mouth. “I don’t care if they want you, Kim Taehyung. You could take any of them home right now if you wanted to and I wouldn’t give a damn.”

“Don’t tempt me, Y/N,” he growls low and it’s then that you realize how angry he truly is. Taehyung doesn’t use your real name with the exception of introductions during a dinner party, charity event, and when you get too stubborn in your ways. “If you want me to take a girl home and fuck her brains out while you sit and stew in your own denial, then I will.”

You stiffen in his arms, the mere thought making you nauseous. You know damn well how eager any one of these girls would be to jump in bed with him. Suddenly, a certain presence looms over the room, something dark makes the place feel smaller than it already is. “Seojun,” you breathe with realization. It’s him, his stare nearly burning a hole into the side of your face as his jealousy blankets the room.

Taehyung grits his teeth, hand sliding up to tighten at the nape of your neck and knotting the hair there. His fingers twitch against your scalp as he’s about to move away to face whoever the hell Seojun is. His grip loosens and fear strikes the air before you’re looping your arms through his to lock together at his back. The embrace is seemingly romantic to everyone else, but he knows that it’s to keep him in place.

He sighs once more and skims his fingers down to massage the tension in your neck, lips brushing against your cheek as he pretends to ignore what you’ve just said. “Can I kiss you, princess? And then every girl in here will know who I belong to. Sound good to you, baby?”

You’re on the tips of your toes, gripping the back of his neck, and tugging him down into a kiss as soon as he finishes the question. The hand in your hair tugs on it gently, silently asking for you to open up to him, but you’re already pulling away before it goes too far. Public affection is never something you could bring yourself to like but Taehyung makes it a little more tolerable. Even so, this was still your place of work and it requires a level of professionalism that you’re one more kiss away from throwing out the window.

Taehyung grins against your mouth as your chest heaves and he straightens up to take the backpack hanging from your shoulder. He tosses the bag to Jimin, who immediately digs through it in search of your work vest. With Cecil’s men dead and Jungkook on a new level of awareness after your disappearing act, enough of the threats to the Seong family have been eliminated for you to work peacefully. You’re not entirely out of the woods just yet, there’s still the matter of finding who paid Cecil, but he’s already spoken with your boss about Jungkook hanging around and keeping an eye on you. He’ll send Jimin down to help after the house has been cleaned up.

Jimin produces your vest and tosses it to Taehyung after swiping the name badge clipped on the fabric. He hands Jungkook the backpack to rifle through the contents, catching a quick peek of your puzzle book. Such a nerd, he thinks as a fond smile spreads across his face.

“I could murder her,” Jungkook mumbles from beside Jimin. “Scaring the shit out of us like that. Almost getting us killed because Taehyung was so pissed.”

“You have to admit that her determination is admirable,” Jimin jokes, nudging Jungkook with his elbow. “Come on, Jungkookie, don’t stay upset with her for too long. You saw the look on her face when we came in. She didn’t like sneaking away from us, but did we give her any other choice? No. So stop pouting and hold down the fort until I get back.”

Jungkook snorts in response. He’s still pissed off at himself for letting you slip through his fingers like that. Jimin only chuckles under his breath and Jungkook is left rolling his eyes. He catches the sight of Seojun in the process, the man’s mouth parted with confusion and brows pinched together in anger. Jungkook looks Seojun over and notes the way his eyes never leave you and Taehyung. Elbowing Jimin to get his attention, he gestures to Seojun, and Jimin clocks the way Seojun’s fists curl at his sides.

Taehyung is too busy swinging the vest around your shoulders to pay any more attention to Seojun. Pulling the zipper up to secure your vest, he tugs you a step closer and fiddles with the pull tab while pressing his forehead to yours. “You can stay, sweetheart.”

“I can?” You break out into a smile before you can stop yourself, pulling back to see his face. If he’s pulling a cruel joke, you’ll kill him. You will 1,000% murder your husband on the spot. But no, he’s not teasing you. “Seriously?”

“Under the condition that Jungkookie stays with you,” Taehyung clarifies, setting his jaw. When you bite your bottom lip in attempt to stop your smile, he tests your giddiness by leaning in for another quick kiss that you happily return. “Jimin will be back in about an hour to help him keep watch. So don’t try to run away from either of them.”

“I promise!” You throw your arms around his shoulders and squeeze him close. To a normal couple, being told that one actually has permission to do their job would be cause for concern. So it was understandably confusing for your coworkers when you practically vibrated with excitement at being allowed to work, of all things.

Taehyung presses another kiss to your lips, holding it just a bit longer than the previous two and smiles as you laugh against him. He’s surprised to find that he can easily slip his tongue past your parted lips, and that you eagerly accept him. When he finally pulls away, you’re looking at him like he just gave you the world, and it dawns on him that this, this is all you asked for. The freedom to make your own choices and keep at least a little bit of your previous life didn’t seem like an option with your cousins and now he was doing the same thing they had. He’s keeping you from enjoying the little things like the job you didn’t necessarily have to keep anymore.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll see you at home, bye!” You rush past your husband, quickly snatching the name badge Jimin was holding out, and dancing in place as you swipe it through the time clock. Jungkook is basically sprinting after you in an effort to keep up with your newfound energy.

Jimin steps up beside his friend as Taehyung tries to compose himself by shoving one hand in his pocket and clearing his throat. He rolls his eyes as Taehyung uses his thumb to swipe away the chapstick you’d left behind on his lips. “You look like a kid in a candy store, you weirdo.”

“She called it home.”

“Yeah, for now,” Jimin snorts and it’s Taehyung’s turn to roll his eyes. “I give it two days before you fuck up something else.”

“Thanks for the support, asshole.”

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You don’t explore much of the house until about the 4th month into the marriage. You've seen most of the first floor and so far, Namjoon’s miniature library is your favorite place. The second floor consists of the guys’ rooms and you find it odd that Taehyung would have them sleep an entire floor away from you. They’re meant to protect you should anything go wrong, so why?

“Find what you’re looking for, Mrs. Kim?”

You jump and whirl around to face Hoseok, your heart nearly beating out of your chest. “Jesus, Hobi. You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” he laughs, though he doesn’t seem very apologetic at all. He’s drenched in sweat, hair is matted to his forehead, and he’s unraveling tape from his knuckles.

“You were boxing,” you point out with admiration. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“No, I was done anyways.” He waves his hand dismissively, but notes the way your lips part in curiosity. “Do you want to try?”

“I didn’t know Taehyung had a gym in the house.” You immediately change the subject. Yes, you want to box. Not exactly ‘try’ because you have enough training to defend yourself. This newfound knowledge of a home gym has you excited. The idea of being able to let out your frustrations on a punching bag is thrilling.

“Jungkook requested it before the house was built.”

“Kook did?” You reel back in surprise. If Jungkook was around before this house was built then… “How old is this place?”

“A few years, I believe.” Hoseok finishes unwrapping his hands and crumples up the used tape. “Taehyung had it built for you when he found out your cousin wanted to merge the families.”

“Right.” You clench your jaw. You often forget how long this plan was in the making before judgement day. Or your ‘wedding’, as some would call it. Still, that Taehyung would go through such effort to build a home just for you, almost brings a smile to your face. Shaking the thought from your head, you take the tape from Hoseok’s hands to keep your own occupied. The itch to pick at your cuticles is clawing its way to the surface and you need to stop it before it takes over. “It’s flattering, I know that, but it’s also a reminder of the life I didn’t intend on having.”

“A safe one?” Hoseok quirks one of his brows, watching you fiddle with the used tape and catching the tiny scabs on your cuticles.

“A different one,” you say as the ball of tape is tossed back and forth between your hands. “One where I didn’t feel like a prisoner.”

“What happened?” He quickly snatches one of your hands and the tape falls to the floor. There’s a hint of dried blood on the cuticles of your nails and the skin around the pads of your fingers look to be gnawed on. “How long have you been doing this?”

You try to pull your hand back but it’s useless when it comes to escaping Hoseok. You learned this after spending a month with him as your bodyguard instead of Jungkook, when Taehyung had insisted you build a friendship with Hoseok before the rest of the guys. You had asked why and it had become clear after Hoseok was the one to track you down in a matter of minutes during your first attempt to run away.

“Hobi,” you grunt, twisting your wrist out and away from his hold with ease, instead wrapping your own fingers around his wrist to shove him away and he stumbles back. You laugh at the shock on his face. “Sometimes when I get too nervous or antsy, I chew on my fingers. It’s not very ladylike, is it? I didn’t do it for awhile after my teen years, but recently---.”

“How did you do that?” He interrupts your explanation. “Get out of my grip like that?”

Of course, he knows how you did it. His question is more about who trained you to do it, who taught you to defend yourself, and who taught you to fight. It’s the first time he’s seeing anything like it from you and he’s sure that Taehyung and Jungkook, or any of the guys for that matter, have no clue you can do it either.

You shoot him a teasing smile and pick the tape up from the floor. “My grandfather always wanted to make sure I could do at least the bare minimum if I was attacked. So, he had some of his men teach me to fight alongside Joongki and Jeonghan. I’m sure I’m nowhere near any of your guys’ levels, but I like to think I could hold my own against you if need be.”

“You’re really something else, aren’t you?” Hoseok questions with awe. He doesn’t mean it in an offensive way and he’s glad you realize that as your shoulders tremble with more laughter. “Taehyung always said you were amazing, but I thought it was because he’s so in love with you. Not because you’re a genuinely amazing person.”

You pale at the words ‘in love’ because although you’ve always known about Taehyung’s affections, you’ve never known how deep they truly run. Up to this point, you thought his feelings were more infatuation and lust than anything else.

“Enjoying your little tour, princess?” Taehyung comes from around the corner, leaning against the wall.

“You’re back.” You resist the urge to go to him. The space he’d given you when you first moved in was welcomed, and then you’d gone and given him a reason to revoke that privilege by trying to run away. After spending time together now that he’d been sleeping in the same room, that you had come to learn was actually the master bedroom and he’d been gentleman enough to leave it to only you, you found that you would actually miss him when he was out. There are nights when you sidle up to him as soon as he steps in the door, and you know he’s aware of how dependent you’ve become on his presence because Jimin did you the not so kind favor of pointing it out.

“I’m home,” Taehyung confirms, the ends of his lips almost tugging up into a smile. The way you basically wait for him to come home every day tugs at his heart. He didn’t think it would only take a few months for you to warm up to him, slowly, but definitely surely. He’d calculated that it would take you at least a year to want to be around him. Maybe two, maybe even ten given how stubborn you are. “Finally found your way upstairs, huh?”

“I was bored.”

“I know.” He pushes off the wall and comes to take the tape from your hands. He finally looks at Hoseok and nods. “Did Hoseok teach you anything?”

“Apparently there’s no need,” Hoseok explains while crossing his arms. “Did you know that she can fight? Not that sissy slap fight that some people do. I mean, real fighting, Taehyung.”

“You’re exaggerating, Hobi.” You roll your eyes and try to snatch the tape back from Taehyung, but he’s quick to pull it out of your reach. “You make it sound like we just went a full round of sparring. I was just able to get out of your hold, that’s all.”

“That’s the most important part,” Hoseok says as you and Taehyung begin a playful game of keep away. He’s sure you don’t notice the grin on your own face when you jump for the piece of trash in Taehyung’s hand. “Even if you can’t actually fight, being able to get away and run as fast as you can is the deciding factor in whether you live or die.”

You’re not listening anymore. It’s not to be rude or simply because you’ve heard it already. It’s because you’re trying to pry the tape away from your husband and you don’t even know why. Perhaps because you had it first? It’s childish thinking, you know it, but it’s what makes this part so fun. You make one final lunge for the used tape and Taehyung grabs your wrist, not prepared for you to counter it so quickly. Clamping down on his wrist with your free hand, you pry it away from your own and duck. You twist around, never letting up on his wrist, and pin his arm gently behind his back. A triumphant grin breaks out on your lips, but it’s short lived.

Taehyung spins around on his heel and is able to quickly back you against the wall. His fingers are already curling around your forearm to press against the plaster. He feels the push of your other hand to his chest and he’s shoved away with more force than expected. His chest rises and falls rapidly, winded from the surprising amount of energy this small little tussle took from him. You don’t rush to him like he thinks you will, instead clutching something in your hand that you open to reveal the balled up tape.

“Whoa,” Hoseok whispers, having been present the entire time rather than giving the two of you privacy like the other guys usually do. He was simply too curious to see how this would pan out. He’s going to say something, not entirely sure what words to use, when he looks back at Taehyung to find an all too familiar look on his face.

Taehyung’s pupils are blown wide as he drinks you in. From the cat-like curve of your lips, to the useless tape balled up in your palm, and down to the heaving of your chest. He’s always been an adrenaline junkie, he knows that, but never had a scuffle turned him on. The fact that you’re his wife and not some bulky, sweat drenched man definitely contributes.

“Well,” Hoseok chimes in uncomfortably, “I’m going to go anywhere that’s not here. You guys have fun.”

You don’t even realize Hoseok is still there until he breezes past you to make himself scarce, watching him disappear from the hallway. When you look back at Taehyung, he’s already in front of you and running the back of his knuckles across your cheek. The affectionate touch makes you blush, heat spreading across your entire body as he leans in so close that his nose bumps yours.

“Will you welcome me home, princess?” he rasps against your lips and it snaps you out of your own thoughts.

“Your home, Tae,” you whisper back and bump his nose gently, “not mine.”

“You are my home, Y/N.” His lips brush yours with every whisper before he fully presses against your mouth. A tiny kiss that somehow leaves you wanting much, much more. But then he’s pulling away and kissing your cheek next. “I know you hate being here, and the idea makes you want to puke, but this is your home. Always.”

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

Later, when you basically skip into the living room with a very tired looking Jungkook and Jimin, Taehyung is surprised when you plop next to him on the couch. You’re equally as exhausted as the guys, but it’s a good kind of tired, like you’ve accomplished something.

“What did you do to Jungkookie, princess?” Taehyung plays with the locks of your hair. He looks to his youngest member and almost laughs at the way Jungkook’s shoulders are slumped forward, his hair is matted with sweat, and like he’s on the verge of passing out.

Jimin is standing next to him looking pristine as ever, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth at Jungkook’s state.

“I didn’t do anything to him.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “He was just having a hard time keeping up, that’s all.”

“Retail workers are animals!” Jungkook bellows, throwing his arms out in frustration. “And the customers who shop there are even worse! Who raised these people, savages?!”

“Kook, you’re in a gang!” You look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“Yeah well, nobody I’ve ever pointed a gun at has yelled at me for giving them the wrong color sweater, alright?” Jungkook runs his hand down his face before rubbing his tired eyes. “I need a nap.”

Taehyung chuckles as Jungkook stalks upstairs to his bedroom. His shift is over now that you’re home anyways, so the least Taehyung can do is let the poor kid sleep.

Jimin bids the two of you goodnight, making his way to the staircase and quickly following after Jungkook.

“I think Kook’s traumatized.” You turn your head to Taehyung just as he leans in and brushes his nose against yours.

“We should probably get him an emotional support animal,” he jokes, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Did you have a good day, sweetheart?”

You tilt your chin up as his mouth travels lower, leaving open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. Nodding in response to his question, you ask, “did you?”

“It’s boring in the house without someone to argue with,” his tongue snakes out lick at your skin before he’s pulling on it with his teeth.

“I’m sure Yoongi could have kept you entertained if you pushed his buttons enough.”

Taehyung knows that his being able to touch you within reason is basically a reward for granting you basic human rights. He didn’t like to think of it as keeping you a prisoner in your own home, but he knows there’s no other way to describe being locked inside almost 24 hours a day. He wanted to think you were finally understanding the rules and would stop fighting him. That wasn’t the case, he sees that now, because he practically falls to his knees every time you allow him to touch or kiss you. Little by little, you’re breaking his resolve with how defiant you can be, and then turning him to mush when he apologizes for making you feel a certain way. You’re practically training him like one would a new puppy.

“Tae,” your moan breaks his train of thought, and he pulls away to find that at some point he’d leaned you flat on your back. His hand had dipped into the waistband of your jeans and he was quick to pull back in case you were uncomfortable. You giggle and sit up to cup his jaw, giving him one more kiss before retreating to the bedroom.

“She’s happy,” Yoongi observes as he steps into the living room. “What did you do to deserve that?”

“Why doesn’t anybody in this house ever take my side?” Taehyung readjusts the way he sits on the couch. He beckons Yoongi closer and takes the tablet from his outstretched hand.

“Because it’s easier to take Y/N’s side.” Yoongi smirks. “It’s certainly more entertaining.”

“This Seojun guy,” Taehyung swipes through photos of your ex, most of which consisted of you by Seojun’s side or tucked underneath his arm. “Who is he?”

“A nobody, really.” Yoongi throws himself on the couch next to Taehyung. “Just some guy who was lucky enough to be hired fresh out of high school. He’s been with the company for 7 years now. He and Y/N dated for about a year before breaking up. Jimin asked around and found out that Seojun didn’t like how secretive Y/N was when it came to her family. So he broke up with her.”

“She didn’t look too happy when I showed up today.” Taehyung grips the tablet tighter when a picture pops up of you and Seojun from his instagram. You’re in a bed with Seojun’s arms wrapped tight around your waist and his face tucked in the crook of your neck.

“She never looks happy to see you,” Yoongi counters and earns himself a sneer.

“I’m saying she didn’t want me to know who this guy was, smartass.” Taehyung tosses the tablet back to Yoongi. He runs a hand through his hair and moves for the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. “Did you get anywhere with the Ahn brothers?”

Yoongi pulls up more images on his tablet and hands it to Taehyung. “The Choi family isn’t happy with Joongki and Jeonghan. It seems your family wasn’t the only one hoping to merge with the Seong’s.”

Taehyung stiffens as he swipes through photo after photo of you with Joongki’s men, but there was someone else trailing you. They weren’t close enough for you to think anything of it, and maybe your cousins hadn’t pieced it together yet either, but Taehyung knows this man, and he clenches his jaw. “Meaning?”

“Mr. Choi had been trying for months to convince Joongki to hand off Y/N to his oldest son, Hyunwoo, and he almost did before your father stepped in and told him the truth about the Choi family.” Yoongi leans against the kitchen counter and drops his voice to a whisper as the opening of a door echoes down the hallway. “Joongki didn’t want to scare Y/N or his brother, so he didn’t tell them why he was so quick to go to your father. Neither of the Seong brothers are the actual target. Y/N is.”

“What about me?” you pipe up, stepping into the kitchen while running a towel through your damp hair. You grab the glass full of water and take a few sips, eyeing Yoongi and Taehyung suspiciously. “What are you two up to?”

“Taehyung was curious about your friend Seojun,” Yoongi is quick to throw his boss underneath the bus, crossing his arms and tsking at Taehyung. “Jealousy is not a good color on you.”

“Sometimes I think you really forget what I’m capable of, Min Yoongi.” Taehyung pushes Yoongi out of the kitchen with a hiss. “Don’t think I won’t get you back for this, you son of a bitch.”

You hoist yourself onto the counter, running your hand through the tangled mess of clean hair. It should probably piss you off that Taehyung had Yoongi dig up information on Seojun, but your ex isn’t exactly your favorite person. After he’d broken up with you, he had made it pretty clear that unless you fessed up about your family, he wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. Six months after that, he’d heard about your marriage but was yet to know who your husband was. Protecting him from Taehyung earlier was more out of instinct than anything else. Taehyung just doesn’t have to know that part.

“You don’t like Seojun.” You swing your legs back and forth gently as Taehyung makes his way back into the kitchen.

“I don’t like any man that’s touched you before me.” He takes the cup back and downs the rest of the water. “I imagine you wouldn’t like meeting the women I’ve been with either.”

“Your one night stands aren’t comparable to the relationships I’ve had.” You glare at him with the hope that the side of his face will catch on fire. “Your women were just placeholders in your bed. They were there to warm it, not to become a permanent fixture in your life.”

“And you were planning on being a permanent fixture in Seojun’s life?” Taehyung turns to meet your glare with a sneer of his own. “Were you going to marry that pathetic little nobody, share a mediocre life, and live in comfort rather than luxury?”

“Your definition of luxury is burying someone in the most expensive gifts and then leaving them to their own vices.” You jump off the counter with a huff, snatching the towel you’d set down. “Maybe the women you’ve slept with could live with that, but I can’t. Seojun may not have millions of dollars to throw at anyone he wants, but he makes due with what he does have. And unlike you, his father wouldn’t have to step in to get me to marry him.”

Taehyung braces his hands against the counter as you saunter off, his shoulders tense and chest heaving with anger. He hears the slamming of the bedroom door and he bangs his fist against the counter before he’s storming down the hall after you. When he reaches the door, he’s even more pissed to find that you’ve locked it, and he’s seconds away from tearing it off its hinges when a piercing whistle catches his attention.

Jimin is standing at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall and swinging a key ring around his finger. “Man, I really should have bet a few hours before you fucked things up instead of betting two days. I can’t wait to see how your wife reacts to you lying about having only one key to the master bedroom.”

Taehyung snatches the key from Jimin and growls out, “if you don’t want to be the next person I murder, then I suggest you walk away, Park.”

Jimin only shakes his head with a laugh, raising his hands in surrender and doing as he’s been told. It wasn’t the first time Taehyung threatened him and it certainly won’t be the last. He makes it back to his room in one piece where he finds the rest of the guys waiting. He grins as he looks around and says, “I think Y/N is my new hero. Nobody’s been able to piss off Taehyung like that in a long time.”

“She’s ballsy, I’ll give her that.” Yoongi looks up from the laptop he’d been typing away on.

“She’d make one hell of a leader,” Seokjin chimes in and Yoongi chuckles low in his throat.

“You’re lucky if Taehyung doesn’t have you tossed in a river with weights tied around your ankles for starting that fight,” Namjoon scolds Yoongi and gestures them closer to see what he’d been working on. “The Choi family is gaining quite the reputation for all the shit Hyunwoo keeps pulling. We’re talking gambling debts, jail time for street brawls, even a few women accusing him of sexual assault. I mean, this guy is close to costing Mr. Choi his whole empire. Nobody wants to work with them, even their supply is suffering. They’ll be left with nothing soon.”

“Choi wants to use Seong’s climbing reputation to save his own ass.” Jimin skims his eyes down the screen of Hyunwoo’s rap sheet.

“It goes a little deeper than that,” Namjoon frowns as Yoongi pulls up a different tab. “Hyunwoo went to high school with Y/N, had the biggest crush on her, but she always rejected him. I talked to her friends and they said that Hyunwoo couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Whenever Y/N snubbed him, he’d corner one of them and threaten their lives if they didn’t try to talk Y/N into dating him. He was obsessed with her, still is. So I’m guessing he promised Choi that he’d clean up his act if he got Y/N.”

“Choi must have pursued Joongki for a long time.” Jungkook stretches his arms above his head until his back finally pops. He rolls his shoulders next as if preparing himself for a fight. If they go to Taehyung right now then they’d certainly be gearing up for one.

“He was close, too.” Yoongi curls his hands into fists at the thought of where you’d be now if Mr. Kim hadn’t stepped in. “Joongki almost agreed to the marriage because he was under the impression that Choi still had a good following.”

“So what happened?”

“Mr. Kim happened,” Yoongi explains, letting out a slow breath. “Nobody’s loyal to Choi anymore. Some of his men branched off and told other bosses what the plan was for the Seong family. Luckily, one of them came to Mr. Kim and he was able to get to Joongki before anything became final.”

“Does Y/N know any of this?” Jungkook questions while looking back and forth between Yoongi and Namjoon. When both men shake their heads, he scoffs. “Don’t you think she should? She’d probably be more inclined to fucking listen to us if she knew what was really happening.”

“Or she’d run away and disappear off the map.” Seokjin offers an alternative. He knows you well enough by now and if you knew how much danger you were truly in, then there’s no doubt in his mind that you’d leave. “We can’t take that chance, Kook. She’s our family now and we take care of family. So we’ll deal with Choi soon and be done with it.”

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

“I’m not really sure what you think you’re doing,” you interrupt whatever Hyunwoo is doing at your locker and he whirls around to find you a few feet away, “but it’s not going to happen, Choi. Move on.”

He steps away from your locker, giving you space to open it and shove your books inside. He gives you a greasy smile and leans against the locker next to yours. “You always say ‘never’ Y/N, but I’m pretty sure I can change your mind if you let me.”

“The only way I’m going to give you a chance is if you let me push you off a cliff.” You slam the locker closed just as your friends approach. “What’s your deal, Hyunwoo? Why don’t you get it by now? I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Most girls would kill to be by my side,” Hyunwoo slaps an open palm on the lockers, rattling them enough to make your friends jump, but you stand strong.

“Then you don’t really need me, do you?” You turn to walk away with your friends only to have him clap his hand on your shoulder, and you’re shoved against the lockers. You wince at the impact, the combination locks dig into your spine, and Bona runs off to find help.

“I don’t need your permission to have you, you know?” Hyunwoo hisses in your face, his forearm rests gently on your collar bone, not heavy enough to cut off your air supply, yet. “My father will give me anything I ask for and if that’s you, then you don’t get a choice anymore. I suggest you come willingly while I’m still asking nicely.”

“There’s not a fucking thing nice about you, Hyunwoo,” you sneer and stomp on his foot, digging your heel into the top of it. It’s enough for him to release his grip as he jumps back in pain, and you’re already cocking your arm back to land a solid punch across his jaw when Bona comes rushing back with Jeonghan in tow.

Jeonghan moves for Hyunwoo but you step in front of your cousin before he does anything to get himself in trouble. He stiffens as Hyunwoo straightens up and uses the back of his hand to wipe away the blood dripping from his mouth. Gripping your arm, he gets ready to pull you behind him if Hyunwoo gets any closer.

You shrug Jeonghan off and take a step toward Hyunwoo. “Your daddy may baby the shit out of you, but make no mistake, Hyunwoo, you’re a trash human being. If you keep this up, you’ll run your father’s reputation into the ground and then where will you be? Certainly daddy won’t keep you around if you’re useless.”

Hyunwoo is seething, and if steam could come out of his ears, you’re pretty sure it would. He lifts his hands to grab you once more, but a teacher’s voice stops him. His eyeline is blocked by Mr. Lee, a math teacher that won’t have a job tomorrow if Hyunwoo can help it.

Mr. Lee directs both you and Hyunwoo to the principal’s office, stopping every so often to ask why Jeonghan is following behind him. He gets a mere shrug in response and he sighs, letting your cousin do as he pleases. He sits you in a chair far away from Hyunwoo before entering the principal’s office and explaining the situation.

Jeonghan stays plastered to your side, concern written all over his face as you goad Hyunwoo from across the room. You certainly had grandmother’s temper and, not for the first time that day, Jeonghan wishes you were a little less fierce. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hyunwoo sneer at you, bloody gums and all. You tilt your head mockingly in response, leaving Jeonghan to nearly facepalm. The only thing that stops him from slapping his own forehead is the rapid footsteps of Joongki, grandfather, and one of grandfather’s men.

Mr. Choi and his right hand man come barreling in next. They blink in surprise at Hyunwoo’s busted lip and your completely unruffled response to him. Mr. Choi is about to ask what exactly is going on when the principal steps out and calls everyone into his office.

“Mr. Choi, Mr. Seong, thank you for coming down.” Principal Chang settles in the chair behind his desk, swiping the glasses from his face to rub at his temples. “Seong Y/N, I wish I could say it’s a surprise to have you here, but it’s really not, is it?”

“Y/N,” your grandfather sighs tiredly in the cramped space, “what have you done now?”

“Nothing that wasn’t prompted,” you defend yourself wholeheartedly.

“You assaulted Hyunwoo, did you not?” Principal Chang looks at the bruise forming on Hyunwoo’s jawline. He wouldn’t voice out loud how impressed he was given that Hyunwoo is twice your size. Unfortunately, his actions speak for him as he nods his admiration for you.

“I didn’t assault Hyunwoo, I defended myself when he nearly choked me to death.”

At this, Joongki snaps his head up to look at the boy in the other chair, rage building underneath the surface. “He did what?”

Mr. Choi lays one hand on Hyunwoo’s shoulder and uses his other to grip his son’s chin. “Look at this. My son is the one bloodied and bruised, and you mean to tell me that you’re the victim in this?”

“Your son doesn’t understand the kindergarten concept of keeping his hands to himself.” You grip the sides of your chair and lean forward to taunt Hyunwoo. “I was simply reminding him of what happens when he doesn’t respect someone else’s boundaries.”

Your grandfather grips your shoulder and hauls you back into the seat. “Stop it.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such an uptight bitch, then I wouldn’t bother you.” Hyunwoo fires back and tries to get in your face as you did him.

Daeseong, your grandfather’s most trusted man, steps in front of you and effectively cuts off any access Hyunwoo might have had. He stares down at the kid with a quirked brow until Hyunwoo seemingly shrinks in his seat. “You’ll refrain from using such language when it comes to Ms. Seong.”

Mr. Choi sputters at the blatant way his son is being intimidated and looks to Principal Chang for some kind of interference. “This girl damages my son’s face and her bodyguard has the audacity to try and scare him. Yet you want me to believe she’s done nothing wrong?”

“Believe what you will, Mr. Choi,” your grandfather’s voice holds the kind of authority that grown men usually cower at, “but given how your son just spoke to my granddaughter, I think it’s quite clear who the antagonist here is. Admittedly, it’s my fault she’s so headstrong. You see, Mr. Choi, my family doesn’t believe in ‘when you’re dead, lie down’, so my granddaughter obviously found it necessary to correct your son’s behavior.”

“You’re aware of who I am, Seong,” Mr. Choi seethes, attempting to be just as vicious. “I suggest you get that delinquent under control before I have to.”

“You’re also aware of who I am, Choi, so I suggest you watch your tone and be careful of who you threaten. Whatever happened here today is just a glimpse of what my granddaughter can do, and unless you want to find out what more there is, then you’ll get your poor excuse for a son under control before I have to.”

Your grandfather is bluffing and it really takes every muscle in your body to keep from reacting. The strength behind your punch is literally all you have, though after today, you’re sure you’re about to get some new self defense lessons. You’d throw your head back and groan if it didn’t give away his obvious lie. Thankfully, Principal Chang’s dismissal of everyone from his office so he can ‘think on your punishment’ saves you from embarrassing your grandfather any further.

Mr. Choi stops you from getting too far by gripping your arm, quickly letting it go as Daeseong latches onto his wrist in return. “You must think you’re so precious, don’t you, little girl?”

“No.” You don’t flinch away from him and you can tell he hates it. “I just know what it means to be a decent person. You’ve taught your son that the world would fall to his feet if he so much as commands it, but he is neither king nor god, Mr. Choi. Hyunwoo doesn’t get to demand the world only to throw a fit when he ultimately breaks it, and then you come in to clean up his mess. The longer you let him believe he’s untouchable, the more likely he is to fall harder than anyone else.”

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

Taehyung watches you stomp around the room, pacing back and forth while tugging at your hair because he’d lied about there being one and only one goddamn key to the master bedroom. Tomorrow he plans to do away with the door completely if you so much as think about locking the fucking thing again. He’s sitting on the bed, dressed in sweats and a plain t-shirt, waiting for your tantrum to be over. “Are you done, princess?”

“No, I’m not fucking done!” you screech, picking up the nearest object and hurling it his way. Another frustrated scream bubbles from your throat as he easily catches the bottle of perfume headed towards his skull. “You asshole! You said there was one, one fucking key to this room, Taehyung, and you lied to me!”

“This isn’t about the key, Y/N, you and I both know that.”

“It’s certainly not about the array of women you’ve paraded through here!” You pick up a bottle of lotion, your favorite to be exact, and launch it at him. When he skillfully dodges it, you begin picking up anything and everything that isn’t nailed down and try your damndest to cause him some kind of damage.

“I’m not bitching about Seojun, am I?!” Taehyung counters and peers around for any more loose objects. “I’m not throwing the disaster of that relationship in your face!”

“It wasn’t a disaster!” Your chest is heaving from exertion and you’re sure that if your pulse raced any faster, you’d have a heart attack. “Seojun was the best thing that happened to me and my cousins ruined that! This life ruined it! And yes, Taehyung, if Joongki hadn’t pimped me out to you then I would have absolutely married Seojun. We’d get married, leave this godforsaken city, have some kids, and live happily ever after.”

Taehyung knows you’re trying to get under skin, knows you’re trying to work him up so you’d have an excuse for your cousins to pull you from his home. Truthfully, your words do hurt, they pierce his heart and piss him off at the same time. Joongki didn’t pimp you out to the Kim family, and he for damn sure wouldn’t have let you marry Seojun and take off. The idea of you having kids with your ex-boyfriend makes Taehyung’s blood boil. The mere idea of Seojun putting his hands anywhere on your person is enough to have your husband close to pulling out his phone and calling for a hit on the poor guy.

You can see the gears shifting in Taehyung’s head, the cold calculation of whatever he’s about to do, and you know that if you didn’t diffuse the situation soon, you’d cost Seojun his life. “Stop it, Taehyung. You don’t get to be an asshole about Seojun and then get mad at me for calling you out on it. You for damn sure don’t get to be pissed that I wanted some space after you were the one who lost your shit over nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” he growls low in his chest and shuffles up the bed to get comfortable. “It was that you felt like you had to protect him in the first place. You really think I’m some kind of monster that would have him killed because he dated you? Far from it, princess. I’m glad you were happy, but he’s not part of your life anymore. You’re my wife, mine, so you’ll forgive me if I get a little testy when you brag about some other man giving you a better life than I can. Especially when you haven’t even given me the fucking chance.”

“Hauling me into this house and then locking me in is not a better life, Taehyung. It’s barely even a life at all. You can say it’s for my own safety, I’ve heard it a thousand times before, but I know that it’s more about your pride than anything else. That the great Kim Taehyung has what someone else wants and no one can get to it.”

“You think if this was about my pride that I’d keep you locked away? There is nothing more that I want than to show you off to the world, Y/N. To show whoever wants you that you’re protected and safe from them, not because they can’t have you. My pride stems from the fact that I have one of the strongest women by my side who isn’t afraid to put me in my place. Not everyone finds that in this life, so yes, I’m proud to have you and no, I will not apologize for whatever kind of blow your ego takes because you can’t stand to be wrong.”

You walk up to the bed, and for a second Taehyung heaves a sigh of relief that the fight is finally over, but you simply strip the mattress of its sheets and turn to leave the room.

He’s on his feet, striding across the room and boxing you in against the door before you can yank it open. “And just where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Whirling around to face him, you hiss, “I’d sooner sleep under a bridge than in the same bed as you right now, Kim Taehyung.”

“That can be arranged if you want it, princess.” Taehyung is done. He’s jealous, he’s pissed, and he’s exhausted, so if you want to throw out empty threats then he’ll match you vicious word for vicious word.

“Then do it,” you challenge quickly. If he wants to toss you out because you fought him so hard then that’s all the opportunity you need to disappear.

His hand comes up to slap the door, landing dangerously close to your cheek, but you aren’t afraid of him or his outburst. He curls his lip up in a sneer before he bites down on his bottom lip and takes in a deep breath to compose himself. “We can fight, we can yell and scream at each other all you want, but at the end of the day this is the bed we’ll be sleeping in. You and I, because it’s ours and I’ll be damned if you curl up elsewhere, understand?”

You swallow the lump in your throat when he presses his forehead to yours because damn it, you’re supposed to be mad at him, not craving his stupid touch. You understand perfectly well, but he doesn’t need to know that, nor does he deserve a verbal response. Shouldering past him, you spin around and hold your hand out. “I want the key. Both of them.”

“There’s two for a reason, sweetheart.” Taehyung explains, turning to lean his back against the door and crossing his arms. “If you lock yourself in here and something happens, either me or one of the guys needs to be able to get in here. In fact, for that reason, I think I’ll be giving one of the keys to the boys and keeping the original copy for myself.”

Your fingers curl against your palm and you clench your teeth. “If I could, I’d drown you, Kim.”

“I know that you’re perfectly capable of it,” he smirks and crosses the room to the bed, “yet I’m not afraid to sleep in the bed as you.”

You try to crawl onto the bed next to him, but unlike most nights, he’s chosen to occupy your usual side of the bed. You huff and try to shove him over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Sleeping.” He pretends to yawn and bury himself into the mattress.

“I sleep on this side, Taehyung, you know that.”

“Not tonight, princess.” He smirks and closes his eyes, knowing how much you hated sleeping with your back against the wall. The bed was pressed into a corner of the very large room simply because after he moved into the room, he’d keep you pinned between him and the wall so you couldn’t run off in the middle of the night. After a few weeks, you’d complained about feeling claustrophobic and he’d relented, granting you the open side of the bed.

“I won’t do this crap again, Taehyung,” you warn with your hands on your hips after giving up on trying to move him. “Move over.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, instead tucking his arms behind his head and crossing his legs at the ankles to make himself comfortable. The bed dips unexpectedly and his eyes shoot open to find you swinging one leg over his frame as you settle yourself in his lap. He wastes no time in gripping your hips to keep you from falling if you lose your balance. “What are you doing?”

“You didn’t move.” You shrug your shoulders, sitting your full weight on his crotch and bunching your hair up to pull into a bun. “The only way for me to get to that side is to climb over you.”

He isn’t paying attention anymore, his hands grip you with a bruising force as your chest juts out with the way you pull your hair up. Your hips circle ever so slightly and he hisses through clenched teeth. This is payback, he realizes, and doesn’t have time to react before you’re rolling off and throwing the blankets over your body.

You hear him grumble something under his breath, but can’t tell what exactly it is. He’s angry, but it doesn’t stop him from turning on his side and snaking his arms around your waist. You nearly lose your breath when he harshly tugs your back to his chest so you push back against him in retaliation.

“You’re being a child,” he growls into your ear, “and if you plan on pushing against me all night, then you should also plan on not sleeping.”

You turn in his hold, coming face to face and bumping your nose against his. “You’re the one being a child, Taehyung. Not that you need to know, or even deserve it, but Seojun isn’t someone to be concerned about. I may not like that we’re married, but I’m not going to go out and violate the sanctity of our marriage either.”

You duck your head and nuzzle it beneath his chin before he can see the blush forming on your cheeks as you whisper, “I’m yours, Tae, no one else’s.”

He freezes and knows that if you hadn’t been embarrassed about admitting as much, then he would kiss you until you both struggled for breath. Your lashes flutter against his neck and he pulls you closer, burying his face in your hair and placing a kiss to your head.

[honeypiehotchner]

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Fem!Stark!Reader) -- part three

I did not expect to get so invested in this damn fic but here I am :))

Summary: The one in which Tony invites you to the “family dinner” but you sleep through it. Also, the “Father Test,” as Tony calls it.

Warnings: angst (what’s new?), talk of food/eating (so sorry, I should’ve tagged this a lot sooner!), medical stuffs (needles, blood being drawn)

A few hours pass by slowly as you doze, floating in between sleep and consciousness, both places completely unsoothing to you.

You wake abruptly when FRIDAY’s voice echoes throughout the room. “Do Not Disturb overridden by Tony Stark.”

With a groan, you sit up, listening to Tony knock — though surprised that he even does.

“Come in,” you sigh.

The door swings open and Tony opens his mouth to speak, but stops when he sees you on the floor. “What…” He glances between you and the bed, giving you an incredulous look. “What’s wrong with the perfectly new bed I gave you?”

“The least of your concerns should be that I’m taking a nap on the floor,” you deadpan. “What do you want?”

“Dinner will be ready in a few,” he says, still looking at you all concerned. “We have a family dinner once a week to...build rapport.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He continues. “You live here now, so...you’re invited. Wanda and Pepper will be there. Bucky, too.” Tony pauses. “Bucky didn’t bother you earlier, did he?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, good.”

“You bothered me, Tony.”

“Right,” Tony nods. “Sorry about that. I shouldn’t have brought that stuff up. I should’ve just been happy that you’re okay.” He pauses again, like he’s having trouble putting all the words together. “I am, by the way. Glad you’re okay. I’m sorry you went through that.”

“Thanks,” you say slowly. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

Tony offers a half-smile, half-grimace, because what you don’t know is that he has FRIDAY currently working on a full, extensive background check on your mom. And you, but your mom is top priority. Ever since the conversation in MedBay earlier, he’s been worried. For your safety — both past, present, and future. But he’s also worried about who you really are — and the worst worry of all is that you might not even know.

“Anyway, dinner in a few,” he says. “Nothing fancy. Come as you are, all that bullshit.”

You snicker at his reference.

He tries not to think of it as too much of a win. “Oh and,” he points to the bed, “it really is new. No one’s slept in it before you. And you can adjust the settings on it — softness, heating, cooling, all that. Just,” he pauses again. “FRIDAY, will you show Y/N the control panel?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

Your eyes widen when a hologram appears next to the bed, projected onto the wall. There, all the settings — and many more — that Tony mentioned are shown.

“When you get it set where you like, FRIDAY can save it for you,” he explains. “Just for whenever you feel like sleeping in a bed again. I guess.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, looking over at him. “Really, thank you, Tony.”

“No problem, munchkin.” He smiles fully this time as he leaves, closing your door. And to your surprise, he activates Do Not Disturb again.

Food is the last thing on your mind, so instead you head over to the hologram on the wall.

You spend the next hour and a half fixing the settings. Once you get it just right, though, you lie down and you sleep.

Soundly. For five hours.

+++

When you wake again, you’re confused and disoriented to find yourself sleeping in a bed. But you love that your back, shoulders, and hips aren’t screaming in pain for once.

One glance out the window tells you that you’ve definitely missed the dinner Tony invited you to, but you don’t care all that much. You’ve met everyone individually. You didn’t really need or want to go to a big dinner. It seemed pointless.

But, unfortunately, you are hungry, so you drag yourself out of bed to go to the kitchen in search of something resembling food.

One glance at the clock in the hall tells you it’s just past midnight, so you relax even more, knowing you won’t encounter anyone.

Or at least, you hoped.

There, leaned against the kitchen counter, straight up guzzling a glass of water, is Bucky.

At least it’s him, you think.

Bucky smiles gently when he sees you coming. “Hey.”

You offer a slight nod and a quiet “Hey” in return, going straight to the fridge.

“Oh, the plate in there is yours,” he says. “Top shelf.”

You look up and spot it, your eyes widening as you grab it. Did they eat monstrous portions here or something? It must weigh five pounds or something crazy.

As if reading your mind, Bucky says, “Sorry there’s so much. I think Tony went overboard.”

You blink down at the food. Tony made you a plate? You expected Pepper to do it, if anyone. Quite frankly, you weren’t expecting it at all. You figured they wouldn’t even notice your absence.

Bucky wordlessly steps to the side, giving you access to the microwave. It even looks expensive, which makes you snort. It’s touchscreen. Of-fucking-course.

“We missed you at dinner,” Bucky says. You didn’t know he liked to talk this much.

“I fell asleep,” you confess with a laugh. “Tony uh, showed me the controls for the bed.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. “No more sleeping on the floor for you, then?”

You shrug.

“I sleep on the floor most nights, too,” Bucky continues, taking in a deep breath. “It’s just…”

“Normal,” you finish quietly.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It feels normal.”

You turn back to the microwave, opening the door a second before it beeps. The food is warm enough now, you guess. Where the hell are the forks, though?

After opening two drawers, Bucky realizes what you’re looking for. “Here.” He opens the drawer across from you and pulls out a fork.

“Thanks,” you murmur, taking it from him. “Night.”

He nods and gives a slight wave. “Night.”

+++

The next day, Pepper stops by your room with a ton of clothes, shoes, and a phone.

“Uhm, thanks…”

“I know it’s a lot,” she smiles gently. “And if you don’t like anything, just let me know. Or if I didn’t get anything that you need, let me know, too.” She pauses. “You don’t have to do it now.”

“Okay,” you sigh, trying not to feel overwhelmed, but it’s hard. There’s like...fifteen bags on your bed right now. Not to mention the boxes of shoes that are stacked on the floor. And the new phone, still in the box, that you’re holding in your hand.

Pepper points to the phone. “It should have my number, Tony’s number, and the rest of the Avengers programmed in there. You’ll see one named Happy, that’s just Tony’s assistant, just in case. You don’t have to talk to everyone on there, but they do have your number as well. It’s all a precautionary thing. Oh, and the phone can be tracked.” She pauses, lowering her voice. “Just a heads up. In case Tony goes crazy.”

You smile at that. “Thanks.” As if he hasn’t already gone crazy and driven you closer to insanity, too.

“Speaking of Tony,” she says. “He’s willing to do the paternity test whenever you are.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Is today good?”

Pepper blinks. “I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, just...I’ll put some clothes on first.” You’re still wearing what Wanda gave you.

“Yeah, of course,” she nods. “I’ll let Tony know and whenever you’re ready, you can just ask FRIDAY to take you to the lab.”

“Okay.”

Pepper leaves you be, while you get dressed, and it takes you a lot longer than you were expecting.

There are so many clothes.

After finding something somewhat comfortable (and because you’re tired of looking through the bags), you grab your phone, though it feels foreign having it in your pocket.

“FRIDAY...where is the lab?”

“If you head to the elevator, I’ll take you there.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

Following FRIDAY’s orders, you head to the elevator and step inside. The doors close and the elevator begins to move, and when it stops, the doors behind you open.

“Welcome to Mr. Stark’s lab.”

Hesitantly, you step off, and you’re met with blaring music.

“Really?” You scream, and Tony lifts his head. “AC/DC? Really?”

The volume lowers a little while Tony replies. “You know your music. I’m impressed.”

“I’m disappointed,” you say. “I prefer Pink Floyd.”

Tony smirks. ‘Another Brick in the Wall, Pt. 2’ begins to play. You hate that you grin, but you do.

“Much better,” you comment. “Pepper told me to come here?”

He nods. “Right, the Father Test.”

You snort. Of course he calls it that.

“We’ll have to head down to MedBay to do it. I’ll be done in just a second.” He taps something on the screen before looking back up. “Did Pepper give you your phone?”

“Yeah.” You pull the device from your pocket and wave it. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded without a phone,” Tony replies. “Also, just for the foreseeable future, don’t leave the Tower without someone. Preferably without me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. You hadn’t thought about leaving and going anywhere until now. “Why?”

“Well, for one, you have an arrest warrant,” he reminds you. “They won’t question it if I’m with you. Which is why it needs to be me — Steve is also fine. But, let’s say, if you left with Bucky, they wouldn’t hesitate to grab both of you.”

“Wasn’t he pardoned or something?”

“Doesn’t mean no one holds a grudge against him.”

You nod. “Right.” Then, you reel back. “So you’re not going to turn me in?”

He shrugs. “I believe you. Even though you won’t tell me who stabbed you.” He taps something else, then drags the screen, and a hologram appears right in front of him.

You roll your eyes. “Because I don’t know who they were. I told you.”

“And I still think you’re lying,” he retorts.

You glare at him through the hologram.

A few more minutes pass where all that fills the silence is Pink Floyd. You’re not complaining, but even Tony’s breathing is grating to your ears.

Once he’s finally finished with whatever the hell he was doing, he heads to the elevator, and you silently follow him.

+++

This time when you enter MedBay, it’s empty, aside from the on-site doctor, Dr. Cho.

“Here for the Father Test,” Tony quips, smirking when Dr. Cho rolls her eyes at him.

You like Dr. Cho already.

“Alright,” she says, putting a pause on what she was doing. “It’s just a simple cheek swab and a little blood.”

“Blood?” You ask. You hate having your blood drawn. Not because of the needle, but because of the idea of your blood being drawn out of your body and used for things you’re unaware of.

It’s creepy.

“Just a small amount,” Dr. Cho assures you with a soft smile. “It acts as a double-check for the paternity test. The cheek swab can give us a general yes or no, but blood is definitive.”

You agree, you just hate it.

First is the cheek swab and Dr. Cho lets you do it, probably sensing your anxiety. She refuses to let Tony do his on his own, but that probably has something to do with how much of a child he is.

Tony gets his blood drawn first, and it is too short for your liking, because once he’s done, Dr. Cho preps you.

Your head is turned the other way while she wipes your skin. Tony moves into your line of vision, and you’re ready to tell him to fuck off before he teases you, but he doesn’t.

He just talks to you.

“Barnes told me you fell asleep yesterday.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Yeah. That’s why I missed dinner. He said you made a plate for me?”

“I did,” Tony nods. “I didn’t want you to go hungry.”

“I could tell,” you snort. “There was enough food on the plate to feed four of me.”

He chuckles. “Did you at least eat?”

“Yeah, I did,” you say. “It was good.”

“Good. How’s the bed?”

“Really good,” you say. “Thanks for showing me the controls and stuff.”

“No problem,” he shrugs. “Nat asked me earlier if you’d like to train with her and Wanda.”

“Train?”

“Yeah, train, workout, whatever you want to call it. Barnes and Rogers usually run if that’s more your speed, Wilson, too, when he’s here.”

“Who’s Wilson?”

“Sam,” Tony fills in. “Falcon.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“He’s in...Louisiana right now, but he should be back here in a few days, so you’ll meet him.” He pauses. “But...stay away from him.”

“Why?”

“He’s...flirty.”

You nearly wheeze. “Are you joking?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “I’ve been meaning to say that about Barnes, too. I don’t care if you talk to him. I think it’s good for him — and you. But don’t…” He waves his hands in an ambiguous manner.

“Tony, the absolute last thing on my mind right now is a boyfriend, but even if it was, why would you have any say in it?” You counter.

“Because I know them, and I don’t want them anywhere near you,” he says, like that’s the end of it. “All done, Dr. Cho?”

“All done,” she confirms, and that’s when you feel her pressing a Band-Aid over your skin.

Your head whips around. You didn’t even feel the needle go in or out. What the fuck?

You look back at Tony with a small smile. “Well played.”

“You’re welcome,” he smirks. “Though, I wasn’t kidding.”

You roll your eyes. “Not even Nat or Wanda?”

He looks surprised, but still shakes his head. “Still no.”

“Darn. My plans have been foiled.”

This time when he looks at you, he smiles.

As the two of you are walking to the elevator, he says, “Want to help me in the lab? I’ll let you control the music — just this once.”

You almost say yes, but you’re not really in the mood. “No, thanks though. I really should go through all the clothes Pepper brought me.”

“Ah, right,” he nods. “She told me she went shopping.”

“Yeah…” You exhale. “She went.”

You step onto the elevator after him, and he presses the floors for you and the lab.

“You know, Wanda might help you sort through the clothes if you ask. She might wear whatever you don’t want.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll ask.”

“She’s training right now, though.”

You nod. “Okay. It can wait, I guess.”

Tony rocks on his heels. “I could really use an extra set of hands…”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

He grins. “You still want to control the music?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you play AC/DC the whole time.”