#usually this is him being an emotional trigger for mob | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wouldntyou-liketoknow · 2 months ago

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I usually try to make some quick of sarcastic joke out of the synopsis for my stories. But honestly, I just want to stick to the basics right now:

It's been such a weird, random, and above all, fun journey to have worked on this collab with you, @insane4fandoms . Thank you for all the hard work, detail, and thought/emotion you've put into the comics, and for letting me attach my stories to those comics, and for being so incredibly patient with all the time writing takes on my end.

Thank you for the kind words/reviews you've been giving me with each completed snippet; I really don't get enough feedback for my work in general, so each time a reader is nice enough to leave their thoughts/comments, it feels genuinely amazing.

Although we've both clearly got a lot of WIPs on our respective plates, I do hope that we'll be able to have fun with something like this again in the future.

And to think, this whole thing started out with a simple meme-comic that you just so happened to mention Ness and my special fanmade scrungly in.

As always, I hope you enjoy the story!

___

Terminal Case of the Ol’ Switcheroo [Epilogue]

(Disclaimer: only two of the characters in this snippet belong to me. For more information about Caliban, go here. For more information on The Newcomer, my very own technical Reader!Character, go here. Murdock belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe…but if you’d like to see my personal headcanons about him, go here. And if you’d like to learn about the mob these guys all work for, go here.)

(One more thing: I’ve actually written a full character analysis on the dynamic between Mad and Caliban. If you’re interested, please feel free to check it out here.)

(Trigger Warnings: blood/gore, knives/blades, implied kidnapping, implied violence, talk of murder/death, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of illegal business, eating/drinking, implied stalking, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

___

Four days later…

Considering they’d been roommates for so long, Ness and Jack had grown accustomed to snide comments about the former keeping his own vehicle. He lived with a cabbie, didn’t he? Why not just enjoy the service?

Well, first of all: No. That whole idea was just rude on so many levels.

Second of all: The whole concept of roommates revolved around two or more people actually being able to stand living with one another. And yes, circumstances varied, but constantly begging for rides was a good way to tip that Jenga tower with a quickness.

Third of all: Yes, Jack was willing to help out those he was close to. Even so, he was a friend, not just some personal chauffeur.

Fourth of all: As stated before, Ness was an adult who had his own damn car…which had been at the local garage getting some much-needed repairs since the beginning of the week. Hopefully it would be ready to drive again soon.

It’d been a hot minute since Ness had needed assistance from Jack—well, technically he’d already gotten some help before today. Back when his roommate and Abby had found him and Mike hiding in the storage closet at Sparky’s.

Maybe that was why this particular evening felt ever-so-slightly surreal as the air was filled with their quiet chatter.

“…So, how’s Mike been?” Jack asked, the wheel slowly spinning under his hands.

“Better,” Ness replied, resting his chin on his palm and gazing through the passenger window. “The loopiness lasted longer than I thought it would, but it’s definitely gone by now.”

Part of him said this to reassure his friend.

Another part of him, meanwhile, said it to reassure himself as the image of a needle sinking into Mike’s neck flickered behind his eyes.

Jack snorted. “Since when is that guy not at least a little loopy?”

Ness raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I mean, from what I’ve heard, he’s still mad at you for letting Abby hold Buckshot.”

The intended retort seemed to die on Jack’s tongue. He glanced at Ness out of the corner of his eye before he started sputtering. “That—that was an accident, I swear! I didn’t even realize I’d set it down; she only picked it up because I was busy helping you carry Mike! She was just trying to help!”

“Hey, I’m not denying all that,” Ness mentioned, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. He paused before folding his arms across his chest. “...But you’re still gonna have to make it up to him.”

Jack heaved a long-suffering sigh, shifting in his seat (which the aforementioned Buckshot was now resting underneath, tucked into that hidden compartment and waiting for another emergency on another day).

“You can’t say I didn’t show her how to properly handle that stuff earlier,” he murmured. “Better to teach ‘em basic safety when they’re young.”

Ness nodded, humming in vague agreement.

Afterward, a different type of silence settled into the air. A layer of ice that anyone could walk on, but no-one ever really wanted to be the one to break.

The two of them spent the next few minutes glancing at one another out of the corners of their eyes, both trying so furiously to look like they were just existing together that they only succeeded in making the obviousness unbearable.

Jack carefully took one hand away from the wheel, guiding it toward himself. He began fidgeting with the puka shell necklace that Ness had never actually seen him take off. He took the time to gently spin each of the shiny, pale-as-bone-china little shapes between his fingers. The same way he always did when he was thinking.

Or, to be more precise: when he was nervous.

He’d already taken these recent rides as opportunities to ask Ness things. To remind Ness about things.

Was Ness feeling okay? Was he drinking enough water? Why hadn’t Ness told Mike about the stalker-issue when it’d first started out?

If Ness really didn’t want to say anything about what had happened a few nights ago, then that was his business…

But still, if there was anything Ness ever needed to get off his chest, about how things were going in his life, he could trust his roommate to listen. He knew that, right?

Of course, this was all just more evidence supporting how good of a roommate Jack was. He looked out for his buddies. He was willing to make himself content with an explanation as simple (sometimes infuriatingly so) as Hey, it just be like that sometimes.

Ness chewed his lip.

He had a legitimate reason for keeping secrets right now. He was only doing it to keep his circle safe.

That didn’t change the fact that it still made him so damn nervous—

THUNK

Just as the cab turned a very familiar street corner, just as it rolled underneath a very familiar tree growing by the sidewalk on said corner, a blurry figure came plummeting down just before the windshield.

Jack yelped, his car screeching to a halt as he stomped on the brake pedal.

Ness all but trebuchetted against the back of his seat, letting out a short scream that was much higher-pitched than he’d care to admit.

The figure shook itself, a bushy tail waving about as it began to cautiously sniff at the metallic embrace of its one-in-a-hundred-chance-random-landing-pad.

It took exactly five whole seconds of breath-holding and staring before the two of them realized that the culprit was just a clumsy squirrel who’d fallen off a branch somewhere above.

Naturally, Jack was the first to snap out of it.

He rolled his window down halfway, then called out, “What’re you doing?”

The squirrel’s only response was to freeze again, tiny nose twitching and beady eyes contemplating.

“…Don’t walk on my hood!” Jack ordered. He waved a hand at the windshield. “C’mon, shoo! Shoo!”

Once the squirrel had taken the hint to hop off and scurry across the street to climb the trunk of a completely different tree, Jack resumed driving, only to stop yet again a couple minutes later.

Ness rolled his shoulders as he unbuckled his seatbelt, pushing the passenger door open. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem.” Jack smiled, nodding as the waiter stepped out into the night. That was another green-flag for the guy: he didn’t often mind when his roommate decided to spend the night somewhere else. “See you tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow!” Ness echoed, hefting the door shut. He took a few seconds to wave as the taxi headed off, ready to start searching for any potential riders.

With that, Ness turned and started walking up the Schmidt driveway.

He’d been prepared to use the extra key that was hidden somewhere on the porch, but the front door swung open right as he climbed the short concrete steps.

Abby stood in the threshold, smiling as she reached out to hug him. “Hi, Ness!”

“Bitty!” Ness replied, immediately returning the embrace, his surprise only lasting so long. It was just so good to see her happy, the way kids deserved to be. He’d only ever seen her frightened once, and he hoped he wouldn’t have to again for a long time.

“Ah—hold on, why are you here?” He asked as the girl tugged him inside by the arm. “What about—?”

He stopped short, watching as Mike poked his head out of the kitchen and came traipsing over, hands in his pockets. “Hey.”

“...Hey,” Ness greeted, his chest suddenly feeling a bit lighter. “What happened to your shift?”

Mike shrugged. “The boss brought in some extra help before I got there; turns out her niece wants to learn the trade, so I guess she’s being taught through volunteering. I was told that the schedules would be updated by tomorrow.”

Ness hummed, “Huh. That’s…oddly wholesome.”

“‘Oddly?’” Mike repeated.

Ness merely raised his eyebrows, and the way Mike offered a half-nod-half-shug indicated that he got the point.

Sarcasm aside, it was good to know that things were going smoothly with the job Mike had been working ever since he’d lost the gig at Freddy’s. Acting as security for an animal shelter had to be one of the best things for bouncing back. Even if it’d caused near-incessant levels of pestering from Abby (and sometimes Ness) for a puppy or kitten or a kitten and a puppy.

“Well, what about your shift?” Mike asked. “Everything go okay for you?”

Ness smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Just the same stuff as usual. No bad customers this time, thankfully.”

Abby’s face fell at that, her eyes growing sympathetic. “I wish there were never any bad ones.”

Ness shrugged. “Yeah, me too. But that’s just life. What’re you gonna do?”

Abby thought for a moment before mischief etched its way along her features. “Smack ‘em with a plate! Or, or! If they complain about a drink, just pick it up and dump it on their heads!”

Ness threw his head back, cackling. “Sometimes I really wish I could. But even if my coworkers have my back, I’d still get in trouble.”

Abby pouted again. “Why don’t the bratty snobs ever seem to get in trouble for pushing you guys around?”

Ness paused, his laughter coming to an abrupt halt. Putting on a somewhat serious face, he knelt down and loudly whispered, “Look, as much as I love the concept of fast-learning and teaching stuff early…I’m not sure you wanna dive into philosophy just yet.”

Abby giggled, playfully rolling her eyes as she headed over to her blanket fort and began making slight adjustments.

“Oh, by the way,” Mike declared as he settled down onto the living room couch. “I’m onto your little scheme.”

Ness froze, the dark blue waist-apron he’d just untied slipping through his fingers and fluttering to the floor.

No…no, he had to be mistaken. Mike had to be bluffing.

Three whole days had passed since the incident, and nothing had happened at all.

Sure, there was still a cold, clammy knot of dread taking up space in his stomach.

Sure, he hadn’t been able to get much sleep last night, so he’d decided to make use of that time by researching the rumors about a macabre museum states and states away that had just re-opened its doors to the public after months of closure, and he’d been trying to listen to music all the while, but he’d had to keep taking his earbuds out because he thought he’d heard something moving outside.

Sure, he’d been unable to help but brace himself to feel movement somewhere directly behind him, brace himself for that movement slowly-but-surely creep closer until he could feel hot breath tinged with something metallic on the back of his neck.

…And sure, Ness—and the trick candles he called nerves—had been wrong. Apart from himself, Mike, and Abby, the house had been vacant last night. No intruders. No silhouettes looming in outside, trying to stay away from the beam of the streetlamps on the sidewalks.

But in the grand scheme of things, life had gone back to normal. (As normal as it could be at Sparky’s and in the Schidmt household, at least.)

“What do you mean by that?” Ness asked, trying desperately to keep his tone of voice playful. He tilted his head to the side, smiling wider to take any focus away from how pale he’d suddenly gotten.

Mike snorted. Though he didn’t look at Ness, too preoccupied with fishing his water bottle from his work-bag, an eye-roll was evident in his voice. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Ness, unsure what else to do, found himself carefully glancing at his boyfriend’s sister.

Abby looked just as lost as he was, her little brow furrowed in confusion. Her big, warm doe-eyes, however…if he looked close enough, he could see a tinge of something else. It wasn’t concrete understanding, thank God.

But still, even if she’d apparently made peace with letting him keep a secret or two, she still had her questions. And even if those questions wouldn’t see the light of day because she cared about Ness’ feelings, they still wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.

Ness had kept his word, for everyone’s sake. He’d stayed quiet. It’d been fortunate that everyone had been so focused on Mike in the aftermath, but even though that had only lasted so long…he’d done his part.

Whenever Jack or Abby tried to ask him about where he’d been or what exactly he knew or where his demented doppelganger had disappeared to, he’d managed to mislead them, to steer the conversation away from all the gory details.

And, as far as he could tell, his tactfulness had pulled through.

It just wasn’t possible for Mike to know…

“Trying to get me to open up a disguised glitter bomb, or a paint cannon, or one of those stupid spring-loaded plastic snakes,” Mike continued, a wry, exhausted grin spreading across his face. “All to get back at me for a mistake I made months ago. Don’t deny it; maybe you have other people fooled, but I know how petty you really are.”

He chuckled, running a hand through the mess of short, frizzy, dark brown curls atop his head. “As if Abbs wasn’t already the reincarnation of Kevin McCallister. Now I’ve gotta deal with your tricks, too.”

…And just like that, an invisible tidal wave crashed over him. A suspsiciously loud sigh of relief was almost knocked out of his chest, but Ness was quick, keeping it trapped where it belonged.

“Whaaaaaaat? No, no-no-no, that’s got nothing to do with you. I mean—well, it’s just—the craft store has been having a ton of great deals lately, so…” Ness stammered, putting on a mask of overexaggerated, poorly-hidden anxiety.

Ironic how that was helping to relieve his true nervousness.

He then threw his fresh stutter out the window, raising his hands to his face like a cheap imitation of Edvard Munch’s The Scream, he turned his attention to Abby. “…He’s figURED IT OUT! WE’RE COMPROMISED!” He rushed forward, snatching a decorative pillow from the armchair and raising it over his head like a grenade. “GET HIM, GET HIM!”

Abby’s eyes widened, a lovely, excited, mischievous smile manifesting out of nowhere. She stood up, grabbing two more pillows from her blanket-fort and letting out a sound that was equal parts war-cry and laughter as she executed an impressive running-leap to tackle her older brother.

Mike moved far too slowly, unable to shield his face from the onslaught in time. He fell back onto the couch cushions, laughing and yelping in mock-protest. It was unclear whether he was encouraging Abby’s play-fighting to make her feel strong, or just playing it off like he was holding back to cover up the fact that he was so quickly neutralized by a ten-year-old who wasn’t even half his size.

Though the pillow-fight only lasted for a couple blissful moments, Ness was still out of breath by the time everyone was holding still again. (Really, though, you couldn’t blame him. The sudden ambush had been absolutely devastating, because Abby was the crown-queen of plushie-weilding assassins, thank you very much.)

Mike heaved a sigh, giving Abby one last noogie before correcting his posture and plucking the remote up from the floor.

“Seriously, though,” he announced as the TV’s screen sparked to life, “one of your orders was sent here again. I left it on the table.” He nodded over to the dining room’s hollow doorway.

Ness blinked, leaning against one of the sofa’s armrests. “I haven’t ordered anything lately.”

“You’re really still going with the joke, huh?” Mike smirked. “Go see for yourself. Not like it’s the first time this has happened. I’ve told you before that I don’t mind.” He paused, pursing his lips. “...But still, a heads-up would be nice.”

Confused as he was, Ness couldn’t really deny that last part. Sometimes the mailroom back at the apartment complex was blocked off or closed for whatever reason. And jumping through all those hoops that were supposedly vital for reclaiming lost stuff at the depot…yeah, he wasn’t sure why archaic forms of torture like that were still legal.

Besides, Ness had been staying over at this place more and more often, so…

Shrugging to himself, Ness turned on his head and wandered over. He went to the kitchen first, approaching the washing machine and dryer that had been set up in the corner. The freshly-repaired window seemed to give the whole area a little extra gleam.

(Then again, that gleam would apply to any place that didn’t have shards of broken glass strewn about the floor.)

After chucking his waist-apron into the former and turning its dial to the right setting, he took a seat at the dining table.

There was, indeed, a yellow mailer package waiting patiently for him.

Squinting, Ness reached over and pulled it closer. He lifted it up, shaking it carefully. Nothing inside seemed to rattle or sway, but there was an obvious weight to it.

“I found it on the porch this morning,” Mike called from the living room. “Come to think of it, it must’ve been delivered way earlier than the mail usually is.”

Ness tore the folded flaps at the top open, causing a bundle of red tissue paper to slide out. With a quiet, curious hum, Ness took that bundle into his hands and ripped it away by one edge to reveal…the same bundle, only slightly smaller and shrouded by black tissue paper.

He tore the black covering away to discover another sheet of red.

Once the second red sheet was gone, another black sheet appeared udnerneath.

Red paper, black paper, red paper, black paper, red-black-red-black-red-black-red-black…

Just as Ness began to worry that this would turn into a multi-hour endeavor, he ripped away the thirteenth red sheet and found a tight wad of bubblewrap. He had to fish out his pocket-knife to cut the tape away, but soon enough, he was peeling away the final layers to reveal the small prize at the center.

Ness held it between his forefinger and thumb, raising it closer to his face.

“A frog?” Abby wondered as she trotted into the room, zeroing in on the bubblewrap that was silently demanding to be popped.

Ness nodded, turning the shiny enamel pin to and fro, gazing at the bright yellow material, complimented by splotches of black. Its back was to the world, legs stretching out at angle that hinted it was trying to climb along something.

“A poison dart frog,” he corrected.

“Ooh! Okay, so, a really, really dangerous one!” Abby mused. She leaned closer to get a better look. “Well, I think it’ll look nice with your other one. Did you get one for Mike? So you guys can keep matching?”

Ness shrugged and smiled, knowing that she meant the pride pin he often wore on his leather jacket (a frying pan adorned by wide stripes of pink, yellow, and sky-blue), as well as the one he’d gifted Mike shortly after they’d started dating (a cassette tape with horizontal lines of pink, violet, and cobalt).

As nice as the memories were, and as pretty as this dart frog pin was…that did nothing to change the fact that Ness did not remember ordering this. At all.

Yeah, online shops like Etsy were addictive, and yeah, Ness had a habit of ordering several items at once. But he only did that kind of stuff around holidays or birthdays; he was a waiter, after all.

A small eruption of plinks and dings and chimes came rattling through the air.

In a different time or a different situation, hearing the abrupt, unmistakable call of a pinball machine in a place that had no such machines installed anywhere might be cause for slight panic.

However, considering Ness had set such a classic sound as his ringtone in favor of the generic options, this managed to be as casual as it was disruptive.

Still holding the dart frog pin in one hand, Ness got back to his feet and picked his phone up from the kitchen counter.

The screen read Unknown, with only a blank profile to offer.

Ness raised an eyebrow. Like many people, he’d gotten used to scam and spam alike; in fact, with a little help from Jack (and, later on, Abby), he’d learned some efficient ways deal with them. Mainly via using the unbridled power of second-hand embarrassment to make whatever desperate thief hang up within ten seconds.

…But, of course, there was always the chance that the call was legitimate, that a friend’s number had changed for whatever reason, that kind of stuff.

So, Ness tapped the Accept icon and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey there, Ness,” a voice greeted.

Ness’ eyes widened. His lips parted with a short, low gasp for air. Something with jagged edges crawled through his guts.

“...S-sorry, do I know you?” The question came out more on instinct than intention. While doubt did have a reputation for acting up at the wrong times, Ness knew that it had nothing to do with this.

“I’m sure I’m in your brain somewhere,” the voice replied, his tone an invisible pen that drew a sly grin along his face. “I know trauma does some funny stuff, but you don’t strike me as the type to edit your own memories as part of coping. Don’t try that in the future, by the way. Never ends well for anyone.”

Though Ness wasn’t sure how to respond to a comment like that, his understanding was immediate.

Because the voice wasn’t exactly familiar…but he still recognized the speaker.

Hell, he could picture rows of teeth that glinted in dim light, that seemed a tad too sharp the longer you looked at them. He could imagine that voice drifting through those teeth.

He could remember seeing his very reflection against the silver material of one that clearly hadn’t grown from the speaker’s gums like all the rest.

Ness blinked, and he was suddenly moving again. Away from the dining table. Past the living room. Down the short, narrow hallway. Into the very bedroom he and Mike had started sharing during his visits.

He closed the door as softly as he could, though the click of the lock being engaged felt deafening.

“Are there any Sidneys with you right now? Or just in town at the moment? I think I might know a guy who’s been trying to get ahold of one.” A wave of snickering crackled through the microphone.

Considering his life had temporarily departed onto the path of some weird, amatuer-ish thriller movie days prior, Ness wasn’t sure if he was supposed to start laughing or crying…or just hang up and chuck his phone into the wall and curl up in the fetal position to question everything again.

That last option definitely wouldn’t prove anything, so he opted to start pacing the floor. He approached the window by the side of the bed to shakily close its blinds. “No, I don’t know anyone named Sidney. Is that a joke, or are you trying to sabotage one of your competitors?”

“Not sure, though I wouldn’t turn down a chance to combine the two.” Caliban giggled again before sighing. “But the question isn’t anything like that. The question is: did you expect to hear from me again?”

Ness hesitated. He certainly hadn’t expected anything like this, but…well, you couldn’t have a stalker for months without having an extra tablespoon of paranoia mixed into your mind.

“No, I guess. Not exactly,” he finally responded.

Caliban hummed. “Ah, that’s good. In my line of work, sometimes you can get extra points for unpredictability.”

“What do you want?” Ness blurted. “Why are you calling me?”

“I mean, I held onto your phone for so long, I figured I might as well memorize the number. Just for the novelty, y’know?” Caliban explained, chuckling. “Plus…it’s really not often that I get a chance to check in on certain people.”

In spite of his anxiety, Ness raised an eyebrow. “You mean your victims?”

“Uh, excuse you, I’ve checked in on victims before; it all just depends on the nature of the job,” Caliban scoffed.

Ness shuddered, wondering about threatening and taunting mind-games this guy might have played with particular targets.

“Besides, take a good look where you are,” Caliban continued. “You helped me set things right, and I returned the favor. You’re hardly what I’d call a victim.” He paused, then quickly added, “Well, not a victim of mine, anyway.”

Ness’ heart skipped a beat, thrumming in a harsh manner against his sternum. Memories of the packages, of the letters, of Mad’s face, all twisted with hatred in his snarling mouth and a sick type of light in his eyes.

There was no way Caliban didn’t already know who he was thinking about, so Ness simply murmured, “Is he…is he—”

“Dead?” Caliban interjected, his voice turning thoughtful. “Oh, yeah, no. He’s still kicking; I made sure of that.”

Ness’ jaw hit the floor. “W-What?! But why? I—I though you hated him!”

“I do. And the way I see it, dying would be way, waaaaaaay too good for him. What with all the crap he’s pulled wherever he goes.” Another sharp, unhinged, hungry cackle slithered into Ness’ ears. “But on the other hand: getting caught and mauled over and over and over again? If that’s not karma, then I don’t know what the hell is.”

Ness sputtered. Caliban’s place, wherever it was, was a few hours away from here…but what if Mad was somewhere out there again? What if he’d hitch-hiked with some poor soul who didn’t know any better?

“Is he still with you?” Ness asked in a hoarse voice.

“Getting right down to business, I see.” Caliban hummed approvingly. “Yes and no. Plans are just moving along.”

“Wha—okay, what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Ness demanded, struggling to keep his voice down. It wouldn’t do to have Mike or Abby hear any of this.

“Take a wild guess,” Caliban replied. “Look, you’re probably about to pull a sign out of Hammer Space that says ‘HERE WE GO AGAIN’ and start waving it like a flag. But before it gets there, listen: you won’t be seeing him anymore. And neither will your friends.”

Ness felt something race up his spine. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it wasn’t a chill. More like a warm spark, actually.

Caliban took that bewildered silence as the green light to continue. “It took a lot of work, but hey, I enjoy a challenge. Even if the idiot’s still living in Delulu Land, he knows better than to try coming after you.”

Ness lowered his head, starting at the floor. Mad had made it obvious time and time again that he wasn’t one to take things lying down, to learn his lesson, to just. STOP.

But then, everyone had to at least take a few breaks here and there.

“What did you do?” Ness asked, both out of fear and genuine curiosity.

“I did some of the best I can,” Caliban chuckled. “Let’s just say that the face he has now certainly ain’t the one he was born with.”

“...Really? You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious!” Caliban seemed to be beaming at this point. “Watching one of your own kidneys get removed will do that. Not to mention the sections of skin I took. Gotta be thorough, don’t we?”

“O-oh…” Ness mumbled, a sudden bout of nausea swirling around his head.

Mad’s voice pounded on his eardrums—all the threats he’d spat out back at Sparky’s. How he’d insisted that Caliban would just take a Two For One deal rather than sparing the same waiter he himself had been after.

But he’d been wrong. That hadn’t happened at all.

Somehow, it was obvious that Caliban was nodding. “What can I say? Butcher money where your mouth is.”

And then he was cackling again, giving Ness ample opportunity to imagine the cannibal’s grin widening, his teeth gnashing the air, his eyes nearly feral as they bulged from their sockets.

Sooner or later, the laughter slowed to a halt as Caliban took a breath. “So, did you get my little souvenir? What do you think of it?”

Ness’ brow furrowed in confusion…only for him to nearly slap a hand over his mouth as it gaped open in shock again. Due to the shiny little pin still in his grasp, however, he couldn’t.

“The dart frog pin?” He wondered, raising the object in question closer to eye-level. “This is from you?”

Caliban hummed affirmative. “And I’ll take that as a yes. The package looked so official, didn’t it? One of my friends is amazing when it comes to forgery.”

“…Why? Why did you leave it for me? What does it mean?” Despite his relative relief about the state Mad was apparently in, Ness still felt wary.

“Oh, c’mon, Ness. Think: why do posion dart frogs look the way they do? Why would any animal evolve neon colors instead of camouflage?”

“To—to show off their toxicity,” Ness replied, part of the animal nerd he’d been in grade-school piping up from the back of his brain. “To warn any predators that they’d better not try eating them, or—” He cut himself off, puzzle-pieces slowly connecting through his mind. “Or else…they’ll…regret it.”

“Right!” Caliban pronounced. “There wasn’t any time for you to actually see them, but…well, I don’t work alone. Never have, really. Not even when I take on solo-jobs.”

Ness swallowed a lump in his throat. Mad had mentioned Caliban running around with a mob…and Caliban himself had mentioned something about family before, hadn’t he? Was he remembering things right?

“That pin I sent you isn’t the only one. There’s plenty more out there,” Caliban continued. “We use them as identifiers. To keep track of who our potential allies are. Same goes for enemies: just something to make them think twice before they try screwing around with us by proxy.”

“So…so, this means we’re good?” Ness coughed.

“Yep,” Caliban responded. This time, his voice was a bit softer than before. “Look, if you’re really worried about it, then just get a tattoo. Ink like that absolutely RUINS the taste of the skin, plus it risks denting the price of a section on the market. Trust me: even the smallest tattoos can have that effect.”

“A-alright?” Ness cringed, equal parts grateful and horrified by the information. “And…you don’t want anything from me?”

“Nope. Just try to be smart whenever you feel the need to wear that thing.”

Ness nodded; he didn’t know why, since it wasn’t like Caliban could see the gesture, but there wasn’t much else he could do. After all, it wasn’t every day you were gifted a symbol of protection from a cannibal mobster who’d kidnapped you by accident because you just happen to look a lot like some other serial killer.

“Sure,” he breathed. He felt…lighter. As if a bunch of invisible strangler-vines had wilted away from his shoulders after growing there for months.

There was a pause. Caliban stayed on the line, though he’d gone just as quiet. Ness couldn’t imagine a scenario where the cannibal felt the same level of awkwardness as him, but anything was possible, right?

Finally, as the background cracked around his voice, Caliban stated, “Take care of yourself, Ness. A lot of people clearly do, so you shouldn’t just put that all on them.”

In spite of everything that had happened—all the fear, panic, dread—Ness smiled.

Admittedly, it didn’t last long, as Caliban decided to add, through another small fit of snickers, “Your boytoy, too.”

“...Mike is nOT A BOYTOY,” Ness snapped.

“Hey, it’s not my fault the guy looks like he still has a Myspace,” Caliban argued.

Ness sputtered, trying desperately to hide how he knew that Mike did, indeed, still have a Myspace. “That—that—that doesn’t mean anything!”

“Sometimes it really does. Not saying Facebook is worth anything either, but still.” Caliban barked another laugh.

But before Ness could try to retort, a short, high-pitched beep! rang through the phone, silencing the other end.

He pulled the device away from his ear, staring down at it for a few long seconds before lightly tossing it onto the bed.

Then, he trudged over to Mike’s closet. The duffel bag he’d gotten in the habit of leaving here waited in the corner.

Ness knelt down and opened it up, rummaging through all the spare clothes and toiletries until he fished out his cyan leather jacket. Careful not to prick his fingers, Ness attached the dart frog pin a little ways below the garment’s collar. As quick as the process was, he felt the need to hold his breath.

The enamel glinted in the light as Ness held the jacket up; the little dart frog actually complimented the leather’s shade pretty well.

Chewing his lip, he returned the jacket to its place and fetched a set of soft pajamas (the bottom half of which was covered in a tiny print-pattern of Mothman). Once he'd exchanged his work uniform for that, he unlocked the bedroom door and strolled down the hallway.

He wondered if Mike and Abby would be up for watching a movie tonight.

Movies always seemed to be the best thing when the world finally began slowing back down.

___

Caliban glanced up at the dark sky, breathing in the fresh, cool air.

Another night, another impending job.

Another vacant field that was miles away from any nearby cities (including both the Cove Port Inlets and that town surrounding Sparky’s).

He’d lost count of all the times he’d thanked his lucky stars that his cellphone been set up to not have any calls or texts recorded.

He slipped the device into one of his jacket’s pockets—right across from the one his meat cleaver rested in. Then he circled around the twitching, heaving lump that he’d dropped on the ground only moments ago, cackling to himself all the while.

Mad’s swollen, bloodshot eyes followed his movements, glazed-over yet still somewhat aware. Still full of pain and anger and bitter defeat.

He had to keep squeezing them shut every few seconds, probably to try and combat the stinging, burning pain that lingered under the bandages that Caliban had begrudgingly layered about the incision site in his side.

After a few seconds of panting and gagging, his busted lips pressed together in a nasty scowl. It was so very obvious how he wanted to spew all sorts of colorful words the cannibal’s way, but he’d already screamed his throat raw from the recent harvesting. He wouldn’t be able to say much for at least the rest of the evening.

In fact, he wouldn’t be able to do anything for the rest of the evening.

Caliban knew that, in spite of the nylon binds wrapped tightly around his wrists, Mad would eventually free himself. But all the exhaustion left in the wake of his frenzied adrenaline would keep him from struggling until sometime the next morning.

“Remember, Mad.” Caliban knelt down to his enemy’s level, one hand lashing out to cup his chin, forcing him to retain eye-contact, fingernails digging into skin. “If I catch word of you so much as looking that waiter again, I’ll take one of your eyes next time. And if you try to set foot in the town he’s from, I’ll saw off one of your legs.”

Though he neither nodded nor shook his head, Mad’s reaction was still easy to read. He squirmed in place, trying to edge away, his eyes bulging from their sockets—not out of mania or glee…but fear.

There was still hatred, of course (Mad could never truly resist his self-absoprtion), but there was no mistaking the strand of pure, unfiltered fear that mixed with his agony is such a delicious way.

“Not that I’d sell any of those pieces for a higher price than that kidney,” Caliban continued, a vicious smirk on his face as he harshly jabbed at those red-tinged bandages. “After all the crap you insist on getting yourself into…honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t started taking swigs out of your jerry cans just yet.”

He released his hold, shoving Mad onto his back before standing up again. Never one to turn down giving off the same vibes as a shark or hyena or any other infamous hunter, Caliban resumed his pacing.

“Y’know, even with this always-coming-back thing that you never seem to shut up about,” he pronounced, “I think you’ve already been dead for a long time. The person you used to be died the day you started your so-called ‘career.’”

Out of habit, Caliban fished his cleaver out of his pocket, simply fidgeting with it. The tool was already pretty enough, what with all those wavey streaks naturally set in the damascus steel. But moonlight shining off of the blade made it look even better. Of course, that didn’t always compare to when it was spattered in red, but it was still a nice sight.

“That’s why you were so obsessed with tormenting him, isn’t it?” Caliban wondered aloud, intentionally making it sound much more like a statement than a question. “Because you just couldn’t stand the fact that he’s not the same rotten shell that you are…”

Caliban gazed at the other killer’s expression.

Sure enough, his words had struck a nerve. Mad craned his neck to sneer at him, trembling with rage. Though Caliban had only been occasionally dealing with him for a couple years now, he could easily tell that Mad had been the type of student who probably had an identity-crisis every time he couldn’t be the smartest person in the room.

“...But instead of even bothering to actually earn anything like what he has,” Caliban went on, “you just decided to try dragging him down to your level, huh?”

The cannibal clicked his tongue, shaking his head dismissively.

“It’s never gonna work, buddy. No matter where you go, what you do, who you kill…you’re never gonna be the better ma—”

BWAAAAAAANNNN!

The classic blare of a car-horn came roaring out of nowhere, causing Mad to flinch and Caliban to nearly jump out of his skin.

The horn went off a few more times, very intentionally in a pattern:

BWAAA-BWAAA-BWAAA-BWAAA, BWAA-BWAAAN!

As Caliban whipped around to stare at the car that was parked on the side of the road, waiting for him just a couple yards away, there was a second or two of silence.

BWAAN!

…Okay, now there was silence. Caliban rolled his eyes, knowing that the car’s driver could see him nodding despite the relative distance. Slipping the cleaver back into his pocket, he began strolling over to the vehicle.

“See you around,” he called over his shoulder. He only got a few raspy, unintelligible murmurs in response, but that was better than Mad’s typical, grating voice.

Caliban soon found himself stepping back onto the road, moving around his ride and pulling the passenger-side door open. After buckling his seatbelt, he looked over into the eyes that were currently hidden behind a pair of black-tinted sunglasses.

“Look, I’ll admit that I’ve got no room to talk about monologuing,” Murdock announced, his deep voice rolling into the air as he slowly spun the wheel. “But we’re still kinda on a time-crunch right now.”

“Fair point.” Caliban offered a combination of nod and shrug. “But still, you could’ve just sent a text if you really wanted me to cut things short.”

“…I could always just make you walk to the job-site,” Murdock warned, groaning in time with how Caliban laughed at the little pun.

“Except for the part where you can’t,” Caliban contended, “since we were assigned to take care of this target together.” It wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. When they weren’t squabbling over jokes, the two of them made a pretty great team.

“He’s got you there,” a voice that had slowly grown more and more familiar over time piped up from the backseat.

…Okay, scratch that, the three of them made a good team. At least, that was the case whenever Murdock decided to bring his tagalong—the newest member of The Pentas Family—into the action. They were still being trained in the art of a contract-killer, after all.

Caliban peered up at the rearview mirror to see Snare bouncing in The Newcomer’s lap, purring in that gravelly way only hares could pull off as they stroked his back and scratched his ears. Even if they hadn’t removed their gloves, the hare didn’t seem to mind how the scarlet-dyed leather felt against his fur.

“Traitor,” Caliban jokingly called out to his pet.

The Newcomer smiled and shrugged, only to let out a small yelp as Snare pushed his nose against their ear.

In truth, Caliban was quite glad that Snare had warmed up to The Newcomer so fast. Especially considering how shy they’d been around him when Murdock had first brought them along to learn basic body-disposal (the kind with dismemberment and disembowelment, at least).

“Yeah, you are needed on the job tonight,” Murdock agreed, glancing Caliban’s way as he maneuvered the car down the road, further and further away from where Mad had been dropped off. “You’re gonna be needed on the next upcoming jobs that we’ve had scheduled for months now. Those same jobs that were almost thrown up in the air when you decided to just suddenly run off without telling any of us.”

Caliban pursed his lips, shifting in his seat. “Hey, c’mon, I didn’t forget about any of that. I moved as quickly as I could because of that; I was only gone for one night.”

Murdock furrowed his brow, taking one hand from the wheel to aggravatingly adjust the raven hair that tickled his shoulders. “Still doesn’t change the fact that someone vanishing off the face of the Earth is only a good thing when we’re responsible for it.”

“Aza was worried about you,” The Newcomer added, a bit of sadness creeping into their dark gray eyes. “It’s a good thing your wife reached out to explain when she did; The Boss nearly sent out a search-party.”

Caliban cringed. Okay, yeah, he’d definitely have to find a way to make up for that. Just the idea of his sister being scared made him feel sick, and The Boss had already done so much for him and her…

“Look, I know I probably should’ve handled that whole mess differently,” he admitted, fidgeting with his jacket’s zipper. “But right there in the moment, when I figured out just what kind of mistake I’d made…I panicked.”

He threw his thumb over his shoulder, toward the back window. Though they were now well on their way with no figures still lingering in view outside, it was obvious who he meant by the gesture.

“You know who that was.”

He paused, then added, his tone tapering down a few octaves: “You know that…that he goes after kids.”

Both Murdock and The Newcomer’s faces fell, almost in perfect unison. It was usually difficult to read the former’s expression, thanks to his shades. But right here, right now, it was clear as crystal that he understood. That he felt the same disgust, the same fear as Caliban had.

The Newcomer swallowed a lump in their throat, lowering their head and holding Snare close to their chest.

The Pentas Family wasn’t made up of saints. Never had been, never would be. But when it came to the rules The Boss had set when the mob was first established, NEVER stooping low enough to harm children was at the very top of the list.

Murdock let out a quiet sigh, nodding solemnly.

“...Still,” he mentioned. “This is—what, the seventh time you’ve gone after him? How stubborn can he possibly be?”

“I’m not sure what he’s made of,” Caliban shrugged, staring though the window. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wound up chopping his own damn hands off in the future. But he’s gotta call it quits someday.”

He folded his arms across his chest, thinking. “And until then, someone might as well make his life hell every so often. Just to remind him about that.”

Murdock hummed thoughtfully, spinning the brass chain of his necklace between his fingers. “...Well said.”

“Thanks.”

The moments dragged by as a new quiet settled inside the car.

The moon was hidden behind a swathe of clouds tonight, but its blurry outline still glowed right through them.

The wind howled outside, shaking any trees that dotted the fields around the road. It was a sound that never, never failed to be eerie. As if the breeze was promising anyone who dared have shelter right now that, if the elements couldn’t get them, something (or someone) else certainly would.

Case in point: tonight’s target, whose hideout was apparently only fifteen minutes away from the forest that grew near the edge of the Cove Port Inlet’s city limits.

The same forest the Murdock would be driving through, sooner or later.

“...Did you really stab that guy with a broken broomstick?” Murdock blurted, tilting his head to the side, a curious smirk gracing his features.

Caliban rolled his shoulders, baring his teeth in a sharp, shiny grin. “Yeah, I did.”

“Wait, what?” The Newcomer gasped, excited energy flooding back into their eyes. They leaned closer, bracing red-gloved hands against the back of the front seats, glancing back and forth between their mentor and his accomplice.

“A broomstick can do that kind of damage? Seriously?” They demanded, much more out of astonishment than doubt.

“Sure!” Caliban insisted. He then nodded to Murdock, asking, “Hasn’t he taught you about improvising by now?”

“Well, yeah, but I guess I just thought about the more obvious things,” The Newcomer explained. "Like…golf-clubs! Since they have so much metal weight on one end, y’know? No doubt getting beaten with one of those would hurt like hell. But…wow. A broomstick as a makeshift spear?”

A rich, oily laugh seeped into the air as Murdock playfully elbowed the cannibal beside him. “Okay, now you’ve gotta tell them everything. Give us the full play-by-play.”

“All the gory details?” Caliban hummed, chortling right along.

Murdock tried to scoff, but he was still distracted by the way his mentee’s eyes widened in time with an inquisitive smile.

Caliban couldn’t blame him—it was nice to see a killer-in-training give off the same vibes as an eager student.

With that, the three of them drove off into the night, the atmosphere around them full of chatting, laughter, and of course, the promise of eventual murder.

___

@sammys-magical-au @lexusinsannus @b-is-in-the-closet @im-a-weird0 @yourannoyinglittlesistersteph

It’s here, ITS FINALLY HERE

WHOOHOO @wouldntyou-liketoknow

This silent comic epilogue on my side seems to be a little bittersweet, no real conclusions for the crew for what the hell happened, but everyone is safe (the important ones are at least lmao) Caliban’s hair is different cuz of his tussle with Mad, he looks good tho- @crazy-obsessed-enby @iswmperson @lexusinsannus

Mike will be extremely loopy and sleepy, but when wasn’t he like that? lol Abby is just happy that her brother and Ness are safe, and Jack may or may not be a little upset he didn’t get to use his shotgun on somebody.

21 notes · View notes

jooniyah · 4 years ago

Text

Lover Bouquet : One

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

AU: Yandere!au, Idol!au

Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut (R)

Warnings: Two instances of NON CON, polyamory, established relationship, yandere behavior, pregnancy discussion, emotional abuse, violence, kidnapping, scandal, blood, degradation kink, mobbing, manipulation, profanity, group sex, oral, smut, cum play, groping

Word count: 19.58k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

This is an idol au setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.

Author’s note: This fic is set in an au where the boys are part of a 7-member boy band called the Biker Boys Squad (BBS) and everything that follows is completely fictional with no intended resemblance to actual places, bands or agencies.

Cover credit: @maleficosmos-2 ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ, ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸᵎ

─── ·❆· ───

The smooth roll of wheels outside had visibly no impact on the inside of the limousine. The shiny interior, complete with Italian leather and crystal wine glasses screamed luxury. The windows were completely tinted, reflecting the bright lights of every radiant storefront the car zoomed past.

The car smelt like heaven, a bouquet of smells fanning your nostrils and intoxicating you. Cologne, aftershave, hairspray, all the most delicious masculine smells danced around your senses, tugging at your inner coil that was slowly rearing its head up.

Namjoon was going through a little chit in his hand, mostly out of habit than necessity. He didn’t really depend on those notes, but it gave him a sense of security to know he had all the points in hand before stepping up to the mic.

“Hyung, add a line in English at the end for our International fans,” Taehyung said, peering over at the chit in Namjoon’s hand. The little note had words written in neat Korean letters, which the younger man glanced at.

“Yeah, will do, Tae,” the elder man responded, his hand reaching down to pat the head nestled in his crotch.

“Keep going, baby girl,” he said, gently ruffling your hair as he resumed scanning the chit. Taehyung and Jimin were sitting on either side of him, Jimin casually sipping the Cheval Blanc from his crystal glass, his pillowy pink lips made even glossier by the fine red wine.

You bobbed your head up and down Namjoon’s length, savoring his unique scent with your cheeks hollowed out around him, sucking deep and hard.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he hissed, too far gone to focus on his acceptance speech anymore.

Jimin smiled warmly, his hand snaking down to Namjoon’s lap. His fingers gripped your hair, and he tugged it gently, seeking control over your head. You obliged happily, letting him maneuver your head as he liked.

He slowly pushed you further and further down Namjoon’s shaft, his eyes trained on Namjoon’s face, watching his face twist in hunger. Jimin’s palm was flat against your skull, pushing you to gobble Namjoon’s cock without sparing an inch.

Yoongi was playing a game on his phone, and he looked up just in time to see you struggling against Jimin’s hand.

“Let her breathe, Jiminah,” he lazily scolded, his gummy smile out in full brilliance.

“N- no,” Namjoon panted, looking at Yoongi with pleading eyes. “So close- I’m so close.”

And with that, he groaned out loud, his hips bucking up subconsciously. He ground his body down to the leather seat, his legs trembling in the aftermath of his orgasm.

The hand pressing against your head stayed put, not budging until Namjoon’s legs stopped shivering. Namjoon leaned back and removed his glasses, wiping his hot forehead with a groan. The hand left your hair, moving down to caress your neck.

“Feeling good, hyung?” Jimin’s voice came to your ears like a song.

“You wouldn’t believe how good, Jiminie,” the elder man replied, his breaths coming out in strained intervals.

“Tch, baby…” Jimin said, handing you a Kleenex to wipe your mouth. “You left a drop on Hyung’s trousers.”

Namjoon snapped his head down, his eyes rolling when he saw the single blob of cum on his crotch.

“Damn, those paparazzi will roast us alive,” he murmured, reaching down to wipe it clean.

“No, Joonie,” you whined, hastening to dip your head back down on his crotch. Namjoon’s hand remained suspended in the air with his fingers grasping a tissue, his thigh muscles tensing up when you timidly licked a stripe on his expensive trousers, gathering the blob and sucking it up.

“Oh Y/N, you are so fucking naughty,” Jimin giggled, pulling you up so you could rest your knees.

“Come here, baby,” Yoongi said, his voice thick and raspy. He had waited patiently until Namjoon finished, and now he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Hoseok was sitting next to Yoongi, and the seats were somewhat cramped because four of them were sitting across from Namjoon. The limousine had been altered to their taste, but the seats were a bit smaller than needed.

“Here,” Jin extended his hand, pulling you so you could sit on his lap.

You took advantage of the brief moment to lock your lips against Jin’s neck.

“Hey, no hickeys,” he said, gently swatting at your shoulder. “It’s awards night. No hickeys.”

You puckered your lips up in disappointment. You were only pretending to bite him, just to see his eyes flash. Stern Jin was so fucking sexy.

Yoongi was in the far corner of the seat, and Jin being the smart guy he was, always found a solution.

“Lie down on our thighs,” he said, helping you sprawl yourself across the three sets of thighs, the tips of your toes resting on the owner of the fourth set.

Yoongi’s fingers worked quickly on his zipper, and Jimin’s clear voice teased, “Hyung, you’ll be wrinkling your Saint Laurent suit if you wiggle around too much.”

“Y/N is worth ruining a thousand Saint Laurent suits, Jiminah,” Yoongi quipped as he fished his dick out.

Jin’s long sensitive fingers drew soft circles on your calves, admiring your splendid legs. He brushed his fingers against the curve of your ass, finally settling down to squeeze and knead the firm flesh in his big palms.

The man next to Jin sighed heavily, looking out of the window and squinting through the tinted glass. He had a hard time trying to control himself, but the little toes that kept grazing his thighs distracted him. He bent his head, fighting himself to avoid looking at the sight around him. Of all the men in the limo, Jungkook was the only one who wasn’t staring at your body with simmering lust.

Yoongi was groaning, his hand fisting in your hair as he guided you to take him even deeper. He rested his head against Hoseok’s shoulder, closing his eyes and losing himself in bliss.

Hoseok gazed at Yoongi’s scrunched-up face with warm affection. He always felt supremely happy when Yoongi was having a good time. Your torso was laid on his lap, and he patted your back, encouraging you with soft whispers of praise.

“Yes, baby, that’s it keep going. You’re doing so good.”

Yoongi’s vein bulged alongside his cock, throbbing hard. He was straining so much, curling his toes inside his shoes.

“Gosh, I wanna get inside you,” he moaned, his voice coming out needy and whiny. Taehyung raised his eyebrows, whistling at his wristwatch.

“We’re gonna be on the red carpet in ten minutes, hyung,” he said, clucking his tongue. Yoongi opened his eyes, sending Jin his best pleading look right from his position on Hoseok’s shoulder.

Jin pursed up his pretty lips, looking down at your butt. It was not an easy feat to have full-on sex in the limo. As usual, he was the one who had to improvise a plan.

“Ten minutes is enough for a quickie,” Yoongi whined, his meat still lodged in your hot mouth.

“Okay okay, quit whining. Y/N baby, go sit on Namjoon’s lap,” Jin said, patting your ass. Namjoon looked up, removing his glasses and tucking them inside his breast pocket. He wished he had thought about asking Jin earlier.

You grinned and crawled over to Namjoon, cozying up with your back against his chest, his strong muscular arms spreading your legs wide open.

“All yours, hyung,” Namjoon said, nodding at Yoongi.

It was such a pretty sight to see your red lace undies completely soaked. Hoseok couldn’t hold on anymore, and his hand slipped down to palm himself through his pants.

Yoongi licked his lips, unbuckling his belt for better access. Your legs were already open for him, and Jimin had started caressing your clit with gentle touches. He crouched into a half-kneeling position, grazing his tip against your core.

“Please, just fuck me already,” you cooed, unable to bear Jimin’s teasing anymore. You had to have a cock inside you, it was urgent. Jimin was such a tease, and he enjoyed working you up into a frenzy.

Yoongi smirked, winking at Jimin and slamming his hips into yours, burying himself into you completely.

The car started slowing down, and Jin’s panicked voice rang behind Yoongi’s heaving form.

“We’re here, there’s so many cameras! Stop it, you two!”

Sure enough, there were hundreds of cameras outside, flashes going off every few seconds, waiting for the biggest boyband in the world to step out onto the red carpet.

Yoongi pounded into you harder, sweat running down his temples. He was growling with each thrust, the sound rumbling from deep inside his chest and sending a delicious thrill up your spine.

The car rolled to a stop, directly in front of the sea of people. Hushed murmurs were going around as everyone strained to peer through the tinted windows.

“What’s up? Why aren’t they stepping out?”

“Is something the matter?”

“Are you sure they are inside?”

A few reckless journalists tried to inch closer and glance through the windows. But the blinding camera lights reflected off the glass, completely blocking out the interior of the limousine.

Inside, Jimin hastened to pat down Yoongi’s streaming face, his nerves strung out completely. Yoongi buckled over and collapsed on Namjoon’s shoulder, blissed out at his climax. Jin grabbed him by the waist, pushing him back into his seat.

There was no time to be lost, and you got to work immediately, sucking Yoongi clean and zipping him up. You were just done tucking his shirt back neatly when one of the agency’s managers politely knocked on the door.

Looking up, you grinned at Yoongi, patting his knee.

“All done. Off you go, guys.”

You stayed back, keeping yourself hidden while the boys got out of the car one by one, smiling and waving at the crowd. The camera flashes multiplied manifold, clicking incessantly as the lenses gobbled up your boyfriends.

─── ·❆· ───

“I miss you,” you whined, pouting at your phone screen. Hoseok’s gorgeous face pouted too, as he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I miss you too, Y/N. Everyone does.”

A chorus of groans behind Hoseok declared their assent. Taehyung’s head popped into the screen, and he settled his chin over Hoseok’s shoulder.

“It’s so frustrating without you, Y/N.”

You sighed and shook your head sadly.

“I know, it’s the same here.”

“Hold up, Yoongs wants to talk,” Hoseok said, moving his phone and pushing it into Yoongi’s hand.

“Babe...” he drawled, only half-awake from his power nap. “Get on a flight and come over.”

You twisted the cord on the hoodie you were wearing.

“How? You guys are all so busy. You’re touring so many places. Besides, your schedule is jam-packed.”

Namjoon’s voice piped up from the background.

“I got an idea.”

─── ·❆· ───

“Are you sure this will work?” you asked, shimmying into the black uniform Namjoon had brought you.

“Of course. You can travel with us throughout the tour and no one will know.”

Taehyung whistled on seeing your outfit.

“You know hyung, I’m beginning to see why they call you the brain of our band.”

Namjoon chuckled, his dimples popping out.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, holding you by the shoulders and turning you over to let the others see. “This is brilliant.”

The white letters were stamped boldly on the back of your outfit.

‘BBS CREW’

Jin came closer, pinning an identity badge on the belt loop of your jeans.

“There. You’re officially a crew member now.”

There was a knock on the door, and you ran to hide behind the clothes rack.

“We’re all set,” a crew member said, gesturing that it was time to go on stage. “In five.”

She left the door half open, and you peeped out from behind the rack.

“Time to go?” you asked.

“Yep,” Jin said, gripping your hand. “Come with us.”

There were so many people wearing the same outfit as yours, milling around the backstage rooms. It was very easy to blend in.

You walked with the guys to the very entrance they would go through, heart fluttering to hear the thunderous welcome they received from the audience as they stepped on stage.

It was a terrific experience to stay so close to the stage and see them perform. It was even more astounding to watch the audience get enthralled in the magic your boyfriends created. You stood at the wings, your heart swelling with pride.

After a while, it was finally time for a break, and the guys made their way off stage. They were soaked in sweat, and were panting hard.

“Sprained my ankle,” Hoseok whispered, limping gingerly while Jimin supported him.

“Fan, please,” Yoongi groaned, and a crew member hurried to get him a mini fan.

People were running everywhere, stylists were dabbing touch ups to the makeup and assistants were helping the guys change into the outfits for the next routine.

You hurried to Hoseok’s side, kneeling beside him and taking his hand. A medic was tending to his sprain, and you squeezed his hand tenderly.

“You okay?” you whispered, and he managed a weak nod.

“Better rest this foot,” the medic murmured, to which Hoseok shook his head.

“No. Rest after the concert. Gotta dance.” He was clenching his teeth tightly.

A heavy hand gripped your shoulder, and you looked up. Namjoon was standing with a mini fan, sweat streaming down his face.

“He won’t listen to the medic,” you said in a low voice.

“I know,” he sighed, gently pulling you up to your feet. “Don’t worry too much. It’s like this all the time.”

You nodded, looking around. Everyone was holding mini fans and wiping their sweat off with towels. Yoongi was sprawled out on the floor, and a crew member was fanning him with a big cloth.

“This is hard,” you said, turning back to face Namjoon.

“Yes. But they’re all strong. They’ll handle it.”

You nodded again. This was something they were used to. It would take you some time to get used to it, though.

“Here,” Namjoon said, clasping your hand and walking towards the wings again. The audience were still energetic, doing the fan chant over and over until the guys would get on stage again. Their light sticks were glowing bright, lighting up the whole arena and making it feel as if the stars had rained down to watch the concert.

“See that?” Namjoon whispered, his voice taking on a tone of astonishment. “That’s surreal. So much love, so much energy. They’ve all camped out in the cold for two days. Forget us, imagine how much they’d have gone through to get here.”

You hummed in agreement, still lost in the beauty of the light sticks.

“That’s who we perform for,” Namjoon said, his voice warm and sincere.

You smiled and looked back at his shining face. His eyes were reflecting the radiance of thousands of light sticks.

“Stand by in three...” someone’s voice shouted, and all the guys shot up to their feet with exhausted groans.

They assembled in line again, ready to get on stage for the next performance. One by one, they hurried through the entrance, until everyone except Namjoon had gone back to the waiting area.

“Namjoon-ssi!” someone screamed in alarm, and you shook his arm to get him going.

“Go on, Joon,” you hissed, trying to push him into action.

He looked at you in a daze, and dipped his head urgently.

“Namjoon-ssi!” Another voice called out in emergency, when he cupped your chin and captured your lips in a frantic kiss.

You saw people running towards Namjoon out of the corner of your eyes. There were confused shouts, as the red digital timer counted down the seconds to cue the music.

In a quick flash, he broke the kiss and squeezed your hand, running over to join his mates on stage.

─── ·❆· ───

“Jinnie?”

The mischievous eyes twinkled at you when he replied with a coy “Hm?”

You were lying on his chest, content with listening to his heartbeat thudding away. When you raised your head to look at him, you placed your chin on his ribs, making him squirm and giggle.

“Y/N! It tickles!”

He was still laughing, trying to lift your pointy chin when your next words caught him off-guard.

“Jungkook was so sulky today.”

His laughter died down, the glee on his face replaced with an inscrutable emotion.

“Do you know why?” you pressed, not ready to leave it undiscussed. “He looked like-” you batted your lashes, “-like he was pissed off at us.” You drew a long breath. “Mostly at me.”

Jin was quick to cup your cheek, tutting at the last comment.

“Of course not, Y/N. He was probably nervous about the concert.” He could clearly see that you weren’t convinced. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

You nodded, lost in thought. Did Jungkook not want to be part of the relationship? He hadn’t kissed you or said a kind word to you in days. He had flinched hard when you had touched him earlier in the day. You were about to open your mouth and voice out your thoughts when the bed dipped beside you, and Taehyung’s large sinewy hands landed on your waist.

“Jin hyung, I need to cuddle Y/N to sleep,” he said, his sleepy voice deeper than it normally was.

You swallowed your words, forgetting your thoughts at the deep voice booming into your back. Jin hummed his acknowledgment to Taehyung, gazing at the ceiling in peace, content with having you draped on his chest.

The boys rarely closed their doors, because it was so normal for one or the other to pop into your room at night. You were in love with all of them, yes, but you always slept with Jin. He had been your first boyfriend, and it was a given that you would go to bed with him every night.

The rest of them dropped by sometimes, as Taehyung had just done. Sometimes it even led to threesomes and steamy hot sex. But tonight, you were content with the Jin-Taehyung sandwich. Because the boys were frequently in and out of the room, you left the door open at night.

A digital watch somewhere in one of the rooms lit up its iridescent digits, sounding a slight chime when it turned 2 am.

You were having a dream, and the sound interrupted it, waking you up. You had no desire to open your eyes. You lay with your eyes closed, listening to Jin’s even breathing in tranquil happiness.

Taehyung moaned slightly in his sleep, burying his head into your neck and crushing you tighter against his chest. His thick hair brushed against your skin, and you grudgingly opened your eyes.

It was so dark, and you made out Jin’s hand stretched towards you, in case you wanted to nestle into the crook of his armpit. You smiled to yourself, loving how sweet he was. You wanted to crawl into his arms, so you decided to move slightly.

You raised your head, and your sleep-heavy eyes caught sight of a figure sidling along the open door, the sudden apparition eliciting a strangled scream from deep within your bosom. You rubbed your eyes and squinted again, but the apparition had vanished.

“What? What is it?”

Jin was up in an instant, his groggy voice somehow soothing your anxiety. Taehyung woke up too, and between them, they asked you what had happened, and you pointed at the door with shaking fingers.

“I- think I saw someone. Something.”

Jin squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

“Y/N, baby, what exactly did you see?”

Your nerves were shaken so bad you couldn’t raise your voice above a whisper.

“Someone- was watching… me. I only saw the eyes. And then- it- disappeared.”

Jin looked at Taehyung, the brief glance laden with meaning.

“Okay, I’ll go investigate. Taehyung, stay with Y/N.”

Jin got out of bed, tiptoeing out of the room in search of the mysterious apparition. Taehyung hooked his chin on your shoulder, hugging you protectively and blowing air softly on your neck. Jin was gone for a good ten minutes before he returned to the room.

“I did a thorough sweep, Y/N. There’s no one at the house except the guys.”

He climbed into the bed, pulling the sheets over his legs. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“Don’t worry baby, even if he or she comes back, you’ve got two strong boyfriends in this room to protect you.”

God, Jin was so good at making you feel perfectly safe. You smiled and squeezed his hand back. Taehyung hummed behind you, agreeing to Jin’s words.

In a few minutes, Jin was peacefully breathing again, his hand resting on your waist. It was heavy, but the weight gave you reassurance.

─── ·❆· ───

“Yoongi!”

Hoseok’s morning routine included waking up his friend and kicking him out of bed. The guy was simply impossible to rouse, and the rest of the guys steered clear of his morning temper. He reserved a string of eloquent curses to fire at the unfortunate person who woke him up, intentional or otherwise.

Hoseok and you were the only ones immune to his foul mouth. Hoseok simply cursed back at him, and you had a completely different method of waking Yoongi up. A method that involved locking your lips around his morning wood and humming around it.

Today, however, you weren’t around to save Hoseok’s ears.

“Where the hell is Y/N?” Hoseok muttered to himself, ripping the sheets off the man curled like a kitten underneath. Yoongi had a large queen-sized bed, but he insisted on rolling into a ball when he slept. It was endearing to find him curled up like that, but the next moment he would hiss and scowl, cross at being woken up. That man certainly ran hot and cold so quickly.

Yoongi opened his mouth, ready to go off, when Hoseok pushed a pillow into his face.

“Save your breath. I’m gonna go find Y/N. Get your ass off the bed, hyung.”

The rest of the guys were up and about, chattering noisily and clattering dishes in the kitchen.

“WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU USE THAT PAN FOR THE EGGS?”

“Taehyung I swear to God if you break that plate…”

“Namjoon just flip the pancake, man you’re burning it!”

Hoseok waded through the noise, walking down the kitchen and crossing a suite of rooms. His sharp ears picked up your whimpers, and he followed the sounds, briskly trotting towards the source.

The door was half-open, and he stepped in, not bothering to knock.

“Goodness, what a racket!”

Jimin had you pinned up against the wall, your legs wrapped tight around his lithe body. One of his hands was around your neck, and the other was working on rubbing your clit. He had been ramming into you hard, and he jerked to a stop at Hoseok’s voice.

“Hobi hyung!”

Hoseok licked his lips when he saw your pretty little cunt filled to the brim with Jimin’s thick cock. He felt himself stirring in his pants.

“Such a noisy one,” he said, walking towards you. “I could hear her whining all the way in the kitchen.”

Jimin grinned, his eye-smile lighting up his face.

“I’m doing my job right then.”

Hoseok snickered, tracing his finger along the bridge of your nose, bringing it over your lips. You opened up obediently, sucking on his finger with closed eyes, still impaled on Jimin’s cock.

“You need something to stuff your mouth with, darling,” Hoseok murmured, and you nodded in agreement. He wasn’t satisfied though, and he glanced at Jimin, and the latter slipped out of you without a word.

“No,” you moaned around the finger, whimpering at the loss.

“Use your words like a good girl, baby,” Hoseok said, popping his finger out of your mouth. “Only then you’ll get Jimin’s dick back.”

You loved it when Hoseok was all riled up and ready to snap. He was delicious when danger oozed out of his persona, threatening you into submission.

“My mouth needs to be stuffed, Hobi,” you said, drawing the syllables out sexily.

“With what, baby?”

Jimin’s sly smile returned, and he bit his lip while he waited for your pretty lips to form the words.

“With your cock.”

“That’s right.”

Hoseok nodded at you, and Jimin set you down gently, untangling your legs from his hips. You went down on all fours, and Hoseok turned so his back was supported against the wall. He sunk his fingers into your hair, grabbing a fistful and pulling your face towards his crotch.

You had learned the art of unzipping pants with your teeth, so it was easy to unzip him. Behind you, Jimin was spitting on his palm and stroking his length.

“Please,” you whispered, lust blinding you. “Please fuck me.”

The men grinned at each other, and with one savage push, Jimin sheathed himself inside you again. Hoseok had been slapping his dick against your cheek, and when you opened your mouth to moan at Jimin’s entrance, Hoseok took the chance to push himself inside your warm silky mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hand grabbing at your roots hard. “Beat that pussy hard, Jiminah.”

Between the two of them, they found a steady rhythm that let you get fucked on both sides without any lag. Jimin was going at it hard, slamming himself into you like it was his last day on earth. It was sinfully delicious to hear his angelic voice groaning loud with each thrust.

You moaned around Hoseok’s cock, tapping his thighs softly. He stopped abruptly, looking down at you in concern. He slipped out of your mouth gently.

“Yes, baby?”

You ran your finger on your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your mouth. You knew it always drove him crazy when you did that.

“Hobi, sit on my face.”

A smirk spread on Hoseok’s face, and he chuckled lightly.

Jimin pulled your hips towards him, helping you lie down on the floor. Hoseok gently placed your head down, making sure you weren’t uncomfortable in the slightest. And then, he knelt so his thighs were on either side of your face, and dipped his pelvis down a bit, ghosting his weight on you.

You reached out and pulled his thighs closer, whining “Just sit on me please.”

He giggled, his whole body vibrating in mirth.

“Want me to teabag you, little slut?” He lowered himself down a little more. “Huh? Is that what you want?”

“Mmnnhhhh” you buried your face into his balls, and Jimin lay down flat on the floor, his face burrowed into your clit. His lovely lips clasped tight around your bud, his tongue working hard and fast to reduce you to a pool of wobbly jelly.

Above you, Hoseok grabbed his dick and pumped himself hard, dipping his balls in and out of your mouth all the while. He growled when you sucked on them and used your teeth to slightly graze them.

His hands roamed over your chest, gathering your breasts and massaging them. He saw Jimin eating you out at a feral pace, and a fresh pang of want made his dick throb. He aligned his cock between your supple mounds, starting to fuck your breasts while you suckled on his balls.

“Fuck, Y/N. You are a damn fucking goddess,” he breathed, picking up his pace and working his cock faster, amazed at how your breasts bounced so beautifully around him. His thighs started quivering, and you could feel his sweat beginning to moisten his skin. He was so close.

He ran his hands over your breasts and traveled down, leaning forward a bit, doubling up so that his face was in level with your navel. His hot breath sent all your nerves into overdrive, and he started kissing a line down to your belly button.

You moaned out loud, but the sound came out strangled because you had a mouthful of balls. Jimin felt you tremble and shake under him, and he smiled into your pussy. He worked his finger into you, curling and twirling proving even his fingers could dance.

You felt Hoseok’s tongue lick a hot circle around your belly button, and that was it for you. There were stars in your vision, and you trembled so hard that Jimin gripped your calves tight, helping you ride it out. Hoseok straightened his back, seeing you shake all over. He put his arm around your neck and held on to your shoulder, wiping your sweaty forehead and kissing your hand softly, cooing to you.

Jimin shot up the next moment, wiping his mouth and laughing that sweet tinkling laugh.

“Hyung, she squirted all over me!”

Hoseok had just finished shooting his cum all over your breasts, and you strained to look at Jimin.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Jimin.” Hoseok tilted his hips and you propped yourself up to look at the mess you had created. All of Jimin’s shirt, right from the collar to his torso, was soaked.

“I’m sorry... let me clean it,” you reached your hand out, and he simply swatted it away.

“What are you sorry for? Lie back down and let me eat your pussy again, baby.”

─── ·❆· ───

Eighteen months ago

“Jinnie,” you called, turning to face your boyfriend who was stuffing his face with noodles. You were fidgeting before the mirror, unsure what your boyfriend’s reaction would be.

“Huh, babe?” he asked, still busy scraping the last bits of noodles from the takeout box.

You quickly stole one last look at yourself in the mirror and then marched to the side of the bed. His suit was strewn over the white sheets, and he was in his boxers, slurping noodles like his life depended on it.

“Tell me if this dress is okay,” you said, standing directly before him.

“Why, that’s a lovely dress, you’re so pretty!” He paused to fan his mouth, the spice finally catching up to him. “Hot. Damn hot. You. And the noodles.” He fluttered his hands wildly, coughing dramatically.

You tossed a water bottle to him, giggling at his red face.

“So,” he said, sipping the water thankfully, “why do you even ask that? I bought that dress for you.” He scrunched his nose up, looking at you in mischief. “Are you doubting my taste?”

He got a well-aimed pillow thrown against his face, and he laughed.

“Why else would you ask?” he raised his voice like a bratty child.

“This.”

You pointed to your boobs, biting your lip. He pushed the cushion under his head, ogling at your body lazily.

“I don’t see anything wrong with your rack.” He smiled proudly to himself. “You look awesome.”

“But,” you sighed, nervously pulling at the fabric. “The neckline- it’s too deep.”

“So? It’s even more sexy.”

He didn’t seem to get it.

“Seokjin,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “What about the rest of the guys? What would they think? Isn’t this more... like… suitable for when we go on a date, alone, just the two of us?”

“Ah.” He finally understood what you were going on about. The dress had a very low neckline, and you found it weird that he had suggested you wear it to the party with his friends.

He cleared his throat as if he were going to say something. He opened and closed his mouth several times, not a sound escaping his lips.

“Y/N, listen. I need to tell you something. But can it wait until after the party?”

He saw the curiosity burning on your face, but you managed to nod.

“Also, don’t forget to wear the fishnet stockings I got you.”

You tilted your head and gazed at him, pursing your lips.

“Are you trying to show off before the guys, Kim Seokjin?” you asked, accusingly.

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “Just wear it to the party and I’ll tell you all about it later.”

———❖———

You were slipping your heels off, Seokjin was lending you his arm to balance yourself. He had looked stunning in his suit, and you had loved the way his eyes streamed while he joked and kept everyone in splits.

It was a very hush-hush party open only for the label’s artists and their dates. Seokjin didn’t have much privacy in his life, and he tried his best to take advantage of the precious few private parties that came his way.

“Careful,” he said, catching hold of your arm just before you slipped. “I don’t know what you get by torturing your feet like that.”

You simply giggled, pouting your lips at him. “You’re too tall, Jinnie. I need to be able to kiss you whenever I want.”

And there, you had done it. You had made the master of jokes blush so hard his ears turned red. He cleared his throat, his breadcheeks straining hard to contain his smile.

“Let’s go and have a drink.”

He tried to walk ahead, but you caught his sleeve and tugged.

“Jin, tell me what the big secret is,” you mewled, loving how good his toned arms felt. “You know, you said there’s something you had to say.”

He patted your knuckles, nodding sweetly.

“I know. That’s what I need the drink for.”

You huffed, watching him saunter over to the cabinet to pull a bottle of wine. He was so damn hot when he was in suits, but he was hotter when he was pulling his bow loose and mussing his hair. You followed him to the bedroom, tagging along like a lovesick puppy.

The rest of the chaotic group were drinking and fooling around in the living room, rocking the walls with their boisterous laughs. It wasn’t unusual for Jin to bring the boys over; they were always hanging around one time or the other.

“Ahem.”

You crossed your arms, and the gesture didn’t help Jin. Your boobs were squished together and the deep neckline made it impossible for him to focus. He licked his lips and took another sip of the wine to steady his nerves.

But Jin had such an easy relationship with you. He knew that he could talk to you about anything. He trusted you so much that he just knew what he was about to say wouldn’t break your relationship. He just needed to find a way to break the ice.

“Come here,” he murmured, patting his thigh. “Come sit on my lap.”

You glided towards him, settling down on his lap happily. Your cleavage was even closer now, and Jin just lost control.

He placed his glass down, not caring about staining the rug. With a deep moan, he pushed his face into your chest, burrowing into his favorite place in the world. He rubbed his face against the soft flesh, purring in delight.

You let him be, carding your fingers through his thick glossy hair. He would talk when he was ready. Meanwhile, you would enjoy your boyfriend’s attention contently. His teeth were grazing your skin now, sucking soft love bites to show his appreciation.

“Jin,” you breathed, and he lost it completely.

“Fuck, yeah. Say my name like that.”

He lifted his head to look into your eyes, and you saw the rich want coloring his pupils.

“Lemme inspect my girl,” he whispered, pushing his hand between your legs and feeling around for the familiar wetness of your undies.

“You’re soaking already, Y/N,” he groaned, and you saw his nostrils flaring. He gulped at the feeling, and his Adam's apple bobbed enticingly. It was the most beautiful sight ever.

His finger pushed the fabric aside, easily scooping up your essence. He looked straight into your eyes as he brought his digit to his lips and licked it, curling his pink tongue and making your insides clench.

Jin was blessed with long bony fingers, and they were a bit crooked too. A fact he took huge pride in. Because it allowed him to do things to your pussy that no one else could. He slid one finger inside you, drinking in how bothered you looked.

With a soft groan, you parted your legs wider to give him better access. His finger pumped in and out of you, drawing strangled moans from your shaking body. He slowly increased his pace, never taking his eyes off you.

“J-Jin..”

He slid another finger in, and this time his crooked bony fingers found your happy place and pushed against it, reducing you to a whimpering mess on his lap. He never stopped, his chest puffing with pride when he saw how you came undone on his fingers.

“Wanna cum?” he asked, and you nodded vigorously. His grin made an appearance again.

“You gotta ride me first, baby.”

Smiling impishly, you tore the jacket off his shoulders in one swoop. His shoulders were so wide, and you loved grabbing onto them when you rode him. The white dress shirt underneath had gold-plated buttons, winking at you. Seokjin certainly deserved to be dressed from head to toe in gold.

You could hear the boys knocking things around in the living room, and the little wildcat in you reared its head. You liked the thrill of riding Jin with his friends just outside the room. Jin might never guess it, but you wouldn’t even mind if one of the guys actually walked in on you bouncing on your boyfriend’s cock.

Snaking your hand down to his crotch, you unzipped his pants and fished his dick out. He was rock-hard. Jin always had loads of glossy pre-cum, and you slowly worked his juices all over his shaft, stroking him. He grabbed your wrist, his plush lip caught between his teeth.

“Sit on me.”

You gladly obliged, shifting your hips and hovering over him. He pushed your undies aside with his thumb, and you slid down his length, sheathing him completely. Once he was fully in, you rotated your hips, drawing sharp curses from his pillowy lips.

“Ah shit, Y/N. That’s it. Faster, go faster.”

You picked up your pace, holding on to his broad muscular shoulders and bouncing as fast as you could. Jin usually wanted to see your breasts when you rode him. That day, however, he made no effort to undress you. The red fabric was bunched up unceremoniously around your waist, but your breasts were still clothed.

“Oh gosh, Y/N, allow me….”

He grabbed your hips, pushing himself off the bed and thrusting up into you. You let him take over, squeezing his shoulders and letting him rail you as he pleased.

Jin loved the whimpers escaping your dirty little mouth, the sounds egging him on to ruin you completely. He pounded into you, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling your ears like a crescendo.

“Like my cock stretching you, huh?” He panted between his thrusts. His stamina was out of the world.

“You’re my little cockpuppet, aren’t you?”

His words always had the effect of reducing you to putty. That man had such a filthy mouth, one he was only too happy to unleash on you.

“Oh goddamn, Jin!”

You knew he was close; the taut flesh of his abdomen was quivering with the stirrings of a powerful orgasm. Your fingers clawed into his broad shoulders just in time.

Jin sounded nothing like his ordinary self when he cummed. He had a special sex voice that only you had the privilege of hearing. He moaned out loud, growling like an animal in pain as he shot all his seed inside your walls.

You could feel his cock pulsate inside you, twitching as your pussy milked him for all his worth. His breaths came out in hot pants, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

“Feeling good, baby?”

He looked into your eyes, and you smiled happily at him.

“Never been better.”

The soft breadcheeks stretched into a smile. Damn, he was so beautiful when he smiled like that.

You hooked your finger under his chin.

His finger was tracing circles over the fishnet stockings, and you raised an eyebrow naughtily.

“Since when are you into fishnets?”

He chuckled slowly, chewing his lip.

“It wasn’t exactly for me... Remember when I said I had something to tell you?”

You huffed in impatience, gripping the hair at the base of his neck and peering at him curiously.

“Come on! Tell me. Now.”

He looked down at where both your hips joined. He slid his softening dick out of you, and you silently helped him tuck himself back into his pants.

The sound of the zipper closing shattered the silence. He bit his lip and peered into your eyes.

“Y/N,” there was a slight shake in his voice. “Have you ever…” His pink tongue darted out to lick his lips. “What do you think of…”

You blew out your cheeks. It was unusual for your ever-confident boyfriend to sound so doubtful.

“Just say it, Jinnie.”

He took a deep breath, and ran his fingers up your thigh, gathering his thoughts.

“Y/N baby, you sometimes moan in your sleep.”

You smiled at him playfully.

“What do I moan?”

He knotted his eyebrows and sighed softly.

“You moan the names of the other members.”

The smile froze on your face, your heart steadily dropping in your chest. It felt like someone had shoved a giant block of ice down your throat.

“I- I didn’t mean to… It wasn’t…”

Jin saw the panic on your face and shook his head hastily.

“Hear me out, Y/N.” He reached his palm to cup your cheek. “Wait, listen.”

He hadn’t meant to make you feel guilty in the slightest. He shushed you and blurted the words out:

“I meant to ask what you thought about sharing.”

You wrinkled your forehead in confusion.

“Sharing what?”

He wiggled his nose, carefully looking at your reaction as he said the words:

“Sharing you with the other members. Like- like a poly relationship.”

Your jaw dropped, and you regarded your boyfriend with a wary look. Was he really suggesting that? Or was it a snide question? You knew the Jin you loved would never be mean to you. He was too straightforward and blunt to beat around the bush.

“Are you… really asking me?”

His finger traveled up your face and traced your cheekbone.

“Of course I am. You can tell me no if I crossed a line.” He paused for a second.” I genuinely want to know if you’d like it.”

You bunched his shirt up in your fists, scared of what would happen next. Would he hate you if you said “Yes”? Would he feel inadequate? Would he feel like he’d been cheated on?

It was a while before you found your voice.

“Am I going to lose you?”

His face became serious.

“Why would you? Of course not! Baby, I’m the one suggesting it.”

He was suggesting it? The thought made your head spin. It was all too raw to process.

“Are you drunk, Jinnie?”

You knew he wasn’t. Your boyfriend had an extremely good tolerance for alcohol. He shook his head without taking his eyes off your face.

“Don’t worry, I am not. And no, I am not going to back out in the morning.”

He really was serious. You chewed on your lips, gazing at his open face.

“And- the guys, how will you talk to them about… this?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, his rare dimple peeking at you.

“I may have already talked about it with them.”

You drew back in horror.

“What?!”

He shifted his hips into a more comfortable position. He had talked about it with his guys, and they had been open to trying it if you really wanted it. Jin knew how your mind worked, and he was sure you’d want to try at least once.

“Sh, Y/N. It’s all up to you now. No one will judge you for it. I know the guys. They all adore you. Just tell me if you want to try this.”

Your hands flew to your hot face in a poor attempt at hiding yourself. Jin’s big palms caught your wrists.

“Don’t hate me,” you whined, your voice so low it was close to breaking.

———❖———

Jin held your hand tight as he guided you to the living room. The six other guys were boisterously arguing about something. A sudden hush blanketed the noise as soon as Jin ground to a halt in the middle of the room.

You refused to look up, staring at the rug like your whole body would ignite and go up in flames if you did.

“Let’s go to the guest bedroom,” Jin said, addressing the men in the room. He jerked his head at them and turned on his heel, pulling you with him.

The bedroom was the biggest in your apartment, and it housed two queen-sized beds. You had originally intended to rent it out to your friends before your boyfriend came along.

Jin drew the blinds and returned to your side, tapping his foot on the floor gently. One by one, the guys made their way into the room, forming a semicircle around Jin and you.

They were all still in the suits they had worn to the party. Granted, a few ties and bows were loosened and some suits were specked with pizza crust. But they looked just as fucking handsome as ever, disheveled or otherwise.

Everyone looked slightly nervous, and they waited for someone to break the ice. Namjoon, used to his role of the leader, took the lead naturally.

He cleared his throat, glancing at you.

“Y/N, I… um… understand this is all new, but…”

Jin stared at Namjoon, silently urging him to use his eloquent mouth to come up with something more confident.

Namjoon took a step forward, his palms open to in an attempt to instill trust.

“We all love you so much, and I assure you that there’s nothing to be worried about.”

The rest of the group nodded in silence, and you looked at Namjoon through lowered lashes. This was so surreal. Was it all a dream?

Jin squeezed your hand, and you squeezed it back. Gosh, this was so real.

You saw the polished tips of Namjoon’s shoes advance towards you.

“If you say no, we’ll leave this room and forget that this ever happened. We’d understand.”

God, no. You couldn’t say no. It would be a lie if you said you didn’t want them. But how was it all true? How did all seven of them like you back? Was it right to even think about it?

“No,” you saw the tips of Namjoon’s shoes stop abruptly on the floor.

“No," you repeated, "I can’t say no.”

The gleaming shoes hesitantly made their way towards you again.

He stood directly in front of you, and Jin let go of your hand. A sudden feeling of panic rose up your chest, but it disappeared when Jin’s hand reached to grip your shoulder lightly.

Namjoon reached his hand out, saying,

“Is it okay if I do…” He rested his palm against your hip, “…this?”

You gulped and nodded, staring into his chocolate eyes.

He gently squeezed your hip, watching you in rapt attention.

“And this?”

“Yes,” you breathed out shakily.

“You’re wearing fishnets,” Namjoon noted with barely contained eagerness, and you saw Jin cheekily nod his head at his band mate.

“Just how you like it, huh?” Jin teased, winking at Namjoon, who blushed in return.

Namjoon’s hand slipped around your waist, and he murmured in a soft voice, “Is it alright if we move closer to the bed?”

You nodded your head in a daze.

“Uh-huh.”

The rest of the guys parted, breaking the semicircle and making way for you. It really was happening. The thudding in your ears grew louder and louder.

Namjoon sat down on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.

“Come sit, honey.”

You turned and looked at your boyfriend, seeking reassurance before you let yourself go completely. Jin nodded his head and winked, a little smile playing on the edges of his lips. Drawing a shaky breath, you climbed into Namjoon’s lap, feeling incredibly self-conscious.

“We can stop anytime you want,” Namjoon said, gazing earnestly at your face. “Do you want to continue?”

You bit your lip and looked at the men clustered around you. This was it.

“Yes, I want to.”

A barely audible sigh escaped Namjoon’s lips. Had he been holding his breath too? Was he nervous too? Nothing about his persona gave away his nervousness. His fingers were steady, so was his voice. He had an aura of confidence in every move.

“Are you sure, baby? You are okay with this?”

“Yes... oh yes, please.”

The last word was drawn into a needy whine, and Taehyung chuckled from across the room. A few of them were sitting on the other bed, watching the events unfold. Jin was standing at the foot of the bed, his hawk eyes never leaving you. Yoongi was leaning against the wall, looking unbothered. But only he knew the way his stomach was doing backflips, the thought of having you leaving him shaking in his shoes.

Namjoon gently cupped your jaw, pulling you in and brushing his lips softly against yours. His other hand roamed over to your shoulder blade, a finger hooking under the spaghetti strap. Taking his sweet time, the man peeled the strap off your shoulder, his hand moving to free the other strap as well.

“Ready?”

His whisper was full of lust, and you nodded in urgency. With one fluid tug, he pulled the top of your dress down towards your waist, leaving your lace push-up bra for all the men to see. There was a sharp gasp from somewhere in the room, but you were far too gone to identify who it belonged to.

Your eyes flitted over to Jin’s, and you saw him looking straight at your chest, enthralled. He didn’t look the least bit concerned. Rather, he seemed to be enjoying it, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he gulped at the sight.

There was a deafening silence in the room, it was almost unbearable. Namjoon’s hand roamed over to your thigh-high stockings, and his long index finger slipped under the elastic band, dragging sinful lines along your skin.

He sighed darkly, admiring the way your legs looked. He had only mentioned to Jin about his kink for fishnets in passing. He couldn’t believe Jin had remembered.

His other hand was on your back, his fingers hooked under the clasps of your bra.

Deftly, with just two fingers, he undid the clasps, ridding your skin of the offending fabric.

The cold air in the room coupled with the sudden nakedness gave you such a rush, so much that all the fine hair on your skin stood up in goosebumps. There were a few groans around you, and it became so hard to sit still on Namjoon’s lap.

“Make sure she’s feeling comfortable,” Yoongi murmured from his position against the wall, his palm resting ever so slightly on his bulge.

“Here,” Yoongi said, moving towards you and stooping to look into your eyes. “Are you feeling okay, Y/N?”

You nodded, too enthralled in his brilliant black eyes to answer.

He dropped his voice lower, sliding a finger along your jawline.

“Tell us what you want.”

Your nipples were so hard, painfully neglected by not one but seven men in the room.

“I-” You looked at Namjoon, and gripped your hip gently, running his tongue over his plump lips. “-just, can you all take your shirts off?” Your naked torso was in stark contrast to their suits, and you were hyper aware of it.

Jungkook’s little giggle reached your ears, and you sighed in relief as one by one, all the suits and dress shirts came off, revealing sculpted chests and hard, taut abs.

God, Jin was fucking ethereal when he was naked, you always had to remember to breathe when he undressed. But now, right in front of you, seven sons of Aphrodite were offering you their shirtless bodies, letting you feast your eyes on godly perfection.

Namjoon’s bare chest heaved perfectly in harmony with yours, the warmth of his body seeping into your pores.

“Please…” you whined, needy for attention. “Please touch me.”

Yoongi groaned, rubbing his face against your neck, and starting to press kisses down your shoulder blades.

Namjoon nodded at the rest of them, and slowly everyone moved towards you, crowding around you like children around an ice cream truck. One strong arm pulled you, so you were sitting sideways on Namjoon’s lap, providing better access to the others.

Jimin dove straight into your chest, attaching his mouth to your breast and suckling eagerly. He gobbled up as much of the flesh as he could into his little mouth, earning shaky moans that spilled out of your lips.

Namjoon’s finger pushed your underwear away, dipping into your core and curling a bit. He popped out his dimples, smirking hard at Jin.

“Guys, hyung has already marked his territory.”

Jin’s ears went red, and he stammered out while waving his hands,

“It’s nothing like that! It’s just impossible to resist her.” He paused, looking down and grinning at you before adding, “You’re all gonna discover that soon enough.”

You giggled, catching sight of his red face and puckered lips. Jimin was still attached to your chest, working his devilish tongue on your breast.

“Show some love to the other tit too,” Jin said, and everyone chuckled, the tension in the air evaporating completely.

Soon enough, Jungkook’s veiny hand was kneading your other breast, and everyone closed in on you, their eager hands running all over your body, sending you tumbling into bliss.

─── ·❆· ───

Present day

“Yoongs?”

He was hunched over some sheets of music, his nerdy glasses making him look wise and serene.

“Huh?”

He removed his glasses, running his hand through his shock of black hair, mussing it up. A genuine smile lit his face up when he looked at you.

“Yeah, baby?”

You knew he was busy, producing music for one of his collabs. But he had asked you to hang out with him in the studio. And that was when Jungkook had entered, his face hostile and sullen, passing by to drop some of Yoongi’s lyric sheets. He had practically glowered at you, slamming the door behind him unnecessarily loud.

“Um, do you think Kook is mad at me?”

He looked surprised.

“No, why would he be?”

You hadn’t the faintest idea why. But something was up. You knew that. You had tried multiple times to talk to Jungkook, but he had just shrugged and slipped out of your efforts to light up a conversation.

“I think he doesn’t like this.” It had been a thought that had started out as doubt, but Jungkook’s behavior made the doubt grow stronger and stronger until you were subconsciously convinced that it was the reason.

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrows.

“He doesn’t like what?”

“This.” You flung your arms out, tracing the air, frustrated. “Maybe he doesn’t really want to be in this relationship? I tried talking to him many times, but he just won’t speak to me.” You pursed your lips. “It has been weeks since he even smiled at me.”

“Y/N,” Yoongi drawled, reaching to pull you closer. “You know he loves you. We all do. He’s probably overworked and exhausted. Try talking to him after some time, you know?”

You nodded absently, thinking of how Jungkook had sprung up like a startled cat and stomped out of the room while you were watching a movie with all the guys. Just because you had placed a hand on his thigh.

There was something off about Jungkook. But he shut up like a clam, choosing to slip out of the way whenever you tried to talk to him.

“Y/N?”

You snapped back to focus on Yoongi. He was partially right. They were all working their asses off for the new album. You would talk to Jungkook later.

“Okay, babe,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. Your hand reached for the phone.

11:21 pm.

Yoongi had made lunch reservations for both of you. You still had plenty of time.

“You get going on that sexy producer thing you do,” you said, cozying down on his sofa. “We still have some time on our hands.”

So back he went, his serious face poring over the sheets of music sprawled on his table. Yoongi probably didn’t realize, but he looked like a grumpy kitten when he was concentrating hard on something.

You smiled at his bent head, swiping on your phone to check for emails from work. There were none. Good. Maybe you could scroll through Pinterest for new design ideas. You worked for an ad agency as a graphic designer. You had to always be on the lookout for new stuff.

The endless stream of pictures was flooding your feed, and your finger was trying to catch up. Ding. The notification chime wasn’t usually enough to distract you. But this time, it held the title you just couldn’t resist. It was a YouTube notification from your favorite graphic artist.

You were halfway through the video when the suggested section caught your eye. An involuntary chuckle shook your chest when you read the title.

“Boy band BBS talk about DATING and SECRET GIRLFRIENDS?!!”

It was classic clickbait. Something everyone seemed to be doing for views. You knew it was just a clip from the Red Carpet of the MTV Music Awards. You still remembered the hickey you had given Hoseok that had forced him to wear a turtleneck under his suit. Delicious times.

You had watched that video already, but something just pulled you towards the video. You would never tire of re-watching your seven gorgeous boyfriends slaying the red carpet.

Sure, you were right. It was just a clip that everyone who had followed the awards had already seen. The familiar questions about collabs, celebrity crushes, favorite food, every question your boyfriends were already tired of but answered anyway, made up the first 4 minutes. Click bait much?

“Haha we have all the love in the world, we have our fans,” Namjoon was saying, his sweet little dimple flashing at the camera.

“But,” the redhead insisted, her dazzling smile widening. “You boys have any secret dating lives we aren’t privy to?”

The answer was already in the question. No one was supposed to be fucking privy to that information. You pursed your lips, waiting for Namjoon’s sassy reply to tumble out of his lips.

“We wanna focus on our careers, we don’t have time to date,” he said, a small lilt of mockery creeping into his voice.

Damn, you had teased him mercilessly that night, bratty about him saying ‘not having time.’ You remembered how he had begged to lay a finger on you, and a satisfying warmth spread over your belly.

The video was ending, and you grinned at Namjoon’s closeup fondly. But just before the replay button came on, you caught onto something odd.

You had been scrolling down, and a few comments had popped up in your line of vision. People were screaming about how dazzling their bias looked, or how proud they were of the boys. But there were a few ones written by hawk-eyed fans.

“not at how bored JK got of the question at 6:48 lmao he’s so pissed”

“damn, was it just me, or did JK actually ROLL his eyes sfakjfkjfk hahaha”

What?

You hit the replay button, dragging the seeker to the last few seconds of the video.

There, glowering with mad eyes, stood Jungkook. He was well behind Namjoon, a bit out of focus around the 6:45 mark. He had put on a charming smile throughout the video. Until the host popped the dating question, at least.

For anyone else, it would seem like Jungkook was bored with the question. But you knew his quirks. He had been casually gazing at the camera, letting Namjoon answer the host’s questions. The word “dating” left the host’s lips, and Hoseok lightly touched his turtleneck at the exact time when Jungkook’s expression flattened out to a cold hard stare. He rolled his eyes ever so subtly, his face turned sideways. He had been annoyed.

Annoyed at Hoseok that he was reminded of who he was dating. Annoyed that the question had reminded him of the hickey his turtleneck was covering. More like disgusted. Disgusted at what exactly? At the host for asking that question? Or- was it at what dating meant to the eight of you?

“Y/N, babes?”

Yoongi’s voice finally reached your ears, and you looked up in a daze.

“Huh?”

He scratched his head, his other arm supporting the jacket casually flung over his back.

“I said we can go. We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

Oh, the lunch. You had totally snapped out of focus.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” you said, jumping up and slipping into your shoes. Yoongi watched you closely, a bit concerned.

“Are you alright, Y/N? You look... odd.”

You debated if you should tell him what was bothering you. But you didn’t want to ruin the date with your speculations. You’ll talk about it to your boyfriends after you had enough time to sort your feelings.

“No, it’s probably nothing, Yoongs. I’ll tell you later. Let’s go, I’m famished.”

You would have to tackle Jungkook and his surly temper later.

─── ·❆· ───

“How’s the track shaping up, hyung?” Taehyung asked, pouring more wine into Yoongi’s glass. You were cozily settled between Yoongi’s thighs, the warmth of his chest on your back.

“Hm, I worked out most of the chords,” Yoongi returned, picking up his refill and taking a sip. “But I still have some more work to do, especially with the bridge.”

You hummed contentedly, listening to your boyfriends discuss music, sprawled on the floor around the coffee table. It was lovely, watching their serious faces talk about what they loved and lived for. The door opened, and Jungkook walked in, clutching his sports bag.

He mumbled an “I’m home,” directed at his friends, before turning to kick off his shoes.

“…and before I knew it, the time had flown like… phew!” Yoongi was saying, while you eyed Jungkook’s bag. He had been going to the boxing ring too often these days. What was up with him? His hair was damp, and his face was flushed.

“…and then I bundled Y/N up into the car and we rushed off,” Yoongi said, and there it was again. You had been watching Jungkook’s face, and at the mention of your name, the annoyance - no, the disgust flashed across his features. He scoffed to himself, unaware of your attention. It wrenched your heart to see that, and you looked away.

Jungkook picked his bag up again and stormed towards his room. You watched his retreating back, only half-listening to Yoongi’s praise for the lobster frittata.

“You guys keep talking, I’ll be back,” you said, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.

“Uh-huh,” Taehyung purred, craning his neck and offering his cheek for you to kiss too.

“Clown,” you giggled, dropping him a kiss, and giving him a playful shove. “I’ll be gone just a sec, don’t miss me,” you said, winking and jumping up to your feet.

You had to talk to Jungkook and ask him just what his problem was. You just couldn’t bear his sourpuss charade any longer.

———❖———

Loud music hit you in the face as soon as you opened the door to Jungkook’s room. The guys never bothered to close their doors, but Jungkook had lately started closing his. Another red flag waving right under your nose.

He was on the floor, doing pushups and grunting out at the exertion. His sinewy arms were trembling, and he had changed to shorts that revealed his muscular thighs shining with sweat.

The guy certainly was on the fast track lane to exhaustion.

“Jungkook,” you called out, straining your voice to be heard over the blasting music. “Hey! Can you hear me?”

He went on exercising without any acknowledgment, so you stormed to the stereo and turned it off with a click.

“What the fuck?” he growled, snapping his head up before he caught sight of you.

“Well, you couldn’t hear me,” you said, crossing your arms and standing your ground.

“Of course I could,” he sneered, getting up to his feet and wiping the sweat off his chin. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Are you serious right now? You ignored it? What is that supposed to mean?”

He picked up his towel and started dabbing at his forehead, not even sparing you a glance.

“What do you want, Y/N? Why are you here instead of sucking Yoongi hyung’s dick?”

Your jaw dropped.

It was completely out of character for Jungkook to be so prickly. He was always the sweetest and goofiest man out of the lot. What had gone wrong?

“Jeon Jungkook, you dare not speak to me that way,” you said, bristling. “What is up with you? You are so sullen whenever I try to spark a convo.”

He scoffed and threw his towel down. His face was a strange mix of anger and disgust. You couldn’t understand what had ticked him off so bad.

“What is up with me? You tell me, because you’re so smart, Miss. Perfect.”

He crossed his arms and puffed his chest, using his height to his advantage to stare you down.

You huffed in impatience, stressed at his refusal to be drawn out. You had to simmer down and try to make him say what was bothering him.

“Jungkook, tell me why you’ve been so pissy lately. What did I do, to make you so upset? Just tell me.”

He glowered at you, the tips of his ears going red as he clenched his teeth.

“Good question. What didn’t you do?” His eyes swept over your clothes, taking in the wine splotch on your shorts. He averted his eyes, staring at his treadmill instead. “Whose cum are you leaking this time?”

The question was almost inaudible, but the spite in it had already reached you and poisoned the air in the room.

You stood rooted to the spot, shock numbing your senses.

“Did you just-” you struggled to keep the quiver in your voice under control. “-say that…”

You had never been in a real fight with any of your boyfriends, and this was a cold punch to your gut. You had only had the occasional bickering and loads of makeup sex after every disagreement. But this was new. This was raw, palpable and spiteful, and left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You waited for him to rush and say something, to explain and say he didn’t mean it that way. Just anything really.

But he didn’t clarify or even attempt to take his words back. He simply stood there, glaring into your eyes in contempt.

The YouTube video flashed before your eyes. The disgust in his face when he even thought of dating. When he thought of you. The thought crept steadily into your chest, twisting and crushing your heart. He resented you. He resented the relationship.

When you opened your mouth to break the heavy silence, your voice came out in a whimper.

“If you didn’t want to be in this relationship, you could have said so. No one forced you into it.”

He didn’t reply, choosing to glare at his treadmill in stony anger. You went on.

“If I’m keeping you from finding someone else or dating other better people, you could just say so. Instead of insulting me like this.”

He snapped his head to face you, fury painting his face red.

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

“Please, Jungkook,” you said, scoffing and masking the low sob that threatened to escape your chest. “You resent being with me. You can’t even stand me. You don’t have to stay and feel trapped in this relationship. You think- you think-“ You bit your lip, “-you think I’m a slut. You could have just declined to be part of this. None of us forced you.”

His eyes went wide in shock.

“Why would you say that? That’s not fucking true.”

“Are you screwing with me, Jungkook? You don’t even look at me anymore. You cringe when I touch you. Do you think I’m blind to not see how much you hate being in the same room as you? You haven’t kissed me or spoke a kind word to me in weeks.”

He sighed hard, running his hand through his hair. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

You weren’t going to cry; you weren’t one to break down so easily. But there was a strange sadness in your tone when you asked,

“Do you love someone else? Are you feeling- trapped with me…with the rest of us?”

He grimaced, the steely look coming back to his features. He shook his head in despair, straining visibly to keep his calm.

“No. What do you… No, what the hell? Of course not. You’ve got it all fucking wrong.”

“Enlighten me then. Spit it out, Jungkook. I’m not a mind reader.”

Taehyung’s voice drifted from the living room, in a muffled sing-song tone:

“Y/N! Starting to miss you here!”

Jungkook’s lip curled, and he stomped to slam the door shut with a bang. He turned to face you, hot rage clouding his eyes.

“This. It’s this. I can’t bear this anymore.”

You had no idea what he was talking about. But you hated loud noises, and the loud slam had pissed you off.

“What exactly is this this you’re talking about?”

He scrunched up his face impatiently.

“God, Y/N. You just- you’re so oblivious all the time.”

This was getting nowhere. He was talking in circles, and you weren’t going to humor him anymore. The slam of the door had already set a headache off, and your patience was wearing thin.

“Just say it already. I’m not interested in guessing games.”

He buried his face in his hands, clawing at his skin. When he looked at you again, you could see the vein in his forehead stand out.

“I can’t do this anymore. This is so stupid. It’s such a dumb idea. I don’t like this. ”

There it was. Out in the open.

“So, you want out? Are you breaking up with me? I already told you that no one is forcing you to stay. And you told-”

“Shut up, Y/N. Just shut up.”

You stopped, jaw open at his interjection. He shook his head, and you could see his nostrils flaring.

“Y/N, I love you. Okay? Don’t be silly.”

“What? Why the fuck do you keep contradicting yourself, Jeon Jungkook?”

He sighed and pulled your wrist, dragging you to the wall. He trapped you between his arms, pressing his warm body against yours, dominance lighting up his feral eyes.

“I want you to be mine. Just mine.” He sighed again, and his hot breath fell on your lips. “I can’t share you.”

“But- “

Your words were cut off abruptly, as his lips crashed into yours, silencing any words that were bubbling up in your mouth.

His kiss was hot and desperate, as if he was scared to stop. Scared that you would say something that would break his heart if he released your lips. The corner of his lip was trembling, and he bit into your lips to hold on just a little longer.

He had strong muscly arms, and they were crushing you relentlessly.

“Stop…” you breathed, pushing against his chest. “Jungkook, stop”

“No,” he moaned, whimpering with closed eyes. “Y/N, please…”

You pushed harder and violently struggled in his grasp until he had no choice but to let you go. Shoving him away, you spat at him with wet lips.

“Jungkook, this is a polyamorous relationship. You know it doesn’t work that way.”

He threw his hands up to hold the sides of his head, a painful look on his face.

“I can’t… it’s not fair. I can’t even stand the thought of the other guys touching you. Kissing you.” He grimaced. “Or fucking you.”

It was your turn to grimace.

“It’s not fair? I’m not just yours. You knew this when you got into this relationship. Jin is the one- “

He snarled and raised his voice cutting you off.

“He’s responsible for this fucking mess. He’s so fucking selfish, and …and…”

“Stop right there, Jeon Jungkook,” you said, your voice raising to a shout. “Don’t you dare call him selfish. He’s nothing but supportive of sharing. Don’t you dare.”

Jungkook kicked the treadmill’s frame, losing his temper.

“He stole you from me. He fucking betrayed me!”

“Don’t be delusional, Jin was my boyfriend longer than any of you.”

“HE STOLE YOU FROM ME!!!”

You flinched at his loud voice, pressing a finger to your throbbing temple. Clutching the sides of your head, you walked away from him.

“I’m outta here. I can’t listen to your deluded screams anymore.”

You stomped to the door, turning the knob to get out. But Jungkook was quicker, and he reached the door to block you from opening it.

“Let me go,” you said, speaking through clenched teeth.

“No,” he said, leaning his back against the door and glowering at you. “Fucking listen to me, Y/N.”

You had no other choice, so you folded your hands and glared at him in stony silence.

“I was the one who fell for you first. I told Jin hyung that I was in love. He told me I was too young, and that it would damage the band’s reputation, and that I would lose all our female fans if the word got out. He convinced me that it wasn’t wise to date.”

You didn’t reply, choosing to scowl instead. He angrily went on.

“And then imagine my surprise when he went ahead and asked you out. And you betrayed me by falling for him.”

Your scoff interrupted his flow.

“I’m sorry, I betrayed you? Have you gone crazy?”

“It would have been me if Jin hyung hadn’t stolen you from me. I would have been your boyfriend, and I sure as hell wouldn’t let any other guy lay a finger on you.”

The disgust in his tone annoyed you to no end.

“Has it ever occurred to you that I chose Jin? Do you think you could just turn back time and replace him? Are my feelings that insignificant to you?”

He shook his head urgently.

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“And did you tell Jin that you were in love with me? Did you explicitly say my name?”

“No, I- I told him I was in falling for someone. I didn’t say your name,” he mumbled. “But he ought to have known, you were the only girl in my life at that time.”

You blew your cheeks in exasperation.

“Did you think he could fucking read your mind? You’re being so damn stupid, Jungkook.”

He whined again.

“He ought to have known. He knew I liked you very much.”

“He was just looking out for you! He didn’t ‘betray’ you. Why the hell did you agree to be in this relationship then, if you were so against sharing?”

Pain flashed across his face once more.

“Because there was no other way to be in your life. I gritted my teeth and bore it so long just to have a part of your heart. But…”

You tapped your foot, waiting for him to continue.

“…But I can’t share anymore. It kills me to see them look at you that way. It just…kills me.”

There was no response ready on your tongue for that. You had never expected such a situation to arise. You had talked and talked for days with the guys before jumping into the relationship. You had been confident about the success of the talks, but you weren’t sure anymore.

You sighed heavily. This wasn’t going to work. Jungkook and you, it was strained beyond repair.

“I love you, Jungkook. But I can’t and won’t choose you over the others. It doesn’t work that way.”

Something inside him snapped, and he snarled at you, bunching up your nightshirt in his fist.

“What if you got pregnant? Whose child will it be? Who are you going to marry? All seven of us? How will you explain it to the world?”

You struggled in his grasp, clawing at his hand to shake it off.

“It will be Jin I marry. And if I got pregnant, there will be eight people to love the child.” You closed your eyes, clenching your fists. “There’s nothing that can change that.”

The repulsion on his face was clear as day.

“You’re a fucking slut, Y/N.”

─── ·❆· ───

“Hey,” Jin called out, smiling at you from his position on the couch. Yoongi and Taehyung were passed out on the floor, the empty wine bottles sprawled around their bodies.

“Hey,” you said, flashing him a watery smile. “When did you come?”

“Just now,” he said, patting his thigh and signaling you to sit on it.

You shook your head, biting your lip.

“I need to-” you winced, gingerly pressing on your knuckles. “-can you get me some ice?”

His gaze fell on your swollen knuckles, and he jumped up hastily.

“Y/N baby, what happened?”

He rushed to get the ice, barreling to a stop in front of the fridge. There, with his head poking into the freezer door, stood a figure in gym shorts.

Jin knocked at the curly mop of hair, complaining loudly.

“Yah Jungkook-ah, get your head out. I need to get some ice.”

Jin was taken aback when Jungkook whirled around, sporting a bright crimson nose, a tiny trickle of blood running down one nostril.

“The fuck-“ Jin started to say, but Jungkook pushed him away, wiping his nose and storming back towards his room.

When Jin came back to you with a bowl of ice cubes, his quick mind had already sensed a problem.

“Y/N, what happened? Did you- punch him?”

He raised his eyebrow, scrutinizing your face.

“Yes.”

He hadn’t been ready for that.

“But why? You’ve got to tell me. We shouldn’t be hitting each other like this.”

You let Jin hold your fingers and ice them, holding your silence and thinking how best to explain it to him.

“I’ll tell you, but not now.”

He clucked his tongue in dissent.

“No, now.”

“Jin, just leave me be. Not here.”

Your boyfriend pursed his lips, and the disapproval was evident on the curl of his mouth. He pulled you up and guided you to your shared bedroom. It was farther down the suite of rooms, out of earshot from Jungkook’s.

“Out with it,” he said, closing the door and pulling you down to sit on the bed. “Now.”

You never kept secrets from any of your boyfriends. And this was a very big issue that you had no intention of hiding from Jin.

“Jungkook... he called me a slut.”

“What?”

He was on his feet, anger rising in his chest. He knew it wasn’t just dirty bedroom talk, judging from your swollen knuckles.

“Y/N, why did he say that? Tell me everything from the start.”

Ten minutes later, you had barely finished speaking when Jin stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

─── ·❆· ───

Namjoon and Jimin had been out all evening, working on the lyrics for Jimin’s new solo. They were surprised when they got back to a living room full of people, all looking stern and pissed.

“What’s up?” Namjoon asked, hanging his coat on the hook. “Did someone break something?” He internally prayed that no one had discovered the burnt pan stowed under the sink.

No one responded.

“What is it?” Jimin whispered to Taehyung, sliding into a spot on the couch.

“It’s Y/N…” Taehyung started to whisper back, and Jimin exclaimed loudly,

“Oh gosh is she pregnant?”

“Shut your damn mouth,” Taehyung hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

Namjoon’s sharp eyes scanned the scene. There were only seven people in the room. Serious meetings were supposed to have all eight in attendance.

“So, what is this about?” he asked, settling down beside Jin. “And where’s Jungkook?”

Jin remained silent, his face red in a stormy temper. Namjoon looked past Jin at you, addressing you instead.

“Babe, what’s going on?”

You opened your mouth to respond when Jin broke the heavy silence with a piercing shout:

“JEON JUNGKOOK!”

A minute later, a door opened and Jungkook slunk down the corridor, head bent. A hoodie was keeping his head covered, and he sat down on the couch opposite yours. He looked up obstinately, throwing his hood down, earning shocked gasps.

His nose was bleeding, and the blood had dried up in a red streak. His eye socket was a dark purple, and his cheekbone was swollen, effectively sealing his right eye shut.

Everyone was stunned, and indignant voices started talking all at once.

“Who did that?”

“How did this happen?”

“Jungkook, who did this to you?”

Jin snapped at no one in particular, barking out an annoyed “Everyone just shut up.”

He had a sonorous voice, one that commanded respect, especially when he raised it to a shout. The room quietened down, but a low murmur arose again when his shock of hair bounced, revealing a bleeding gash on his forehead.

“I called all of you here to say that our beloved Jungkook wants out of this relationship.”

He raised his palm to silence the babble of voices that broke out again, continuing with:

“He insulted our girlfriend and she broke his nose.”

Jungkook bowed head, choosing to scowl at the carpet.

“And the black eye?” Yoongi’s mild voice asked.

Jin dug his nails into his palms.

“I did that.”

Namjoon shook his head, tsking in disapproval.

“We need to hear both sides of the story, Jin hyung.”

When no one said anything, Namjoon looked at his youngest friend’s bent head.

“Well, Kook? Got anything to say?”

Silence.

Jin stared daggers at the man in the hoodie, his face a hot shade of crimson. His fingers gripped yours, squeezing them protectively.

“Well then,” Taehyung said, breaking the long awkward silence. “If you’ve got nothing to say…”

You couldn’t hold bear the tension in the room anymore.

“He doesn’t wanna share He wants out!” you exclaimed loudly. “He wants me all to himself! And…” you bit out, glaring at Jungkook, “…apparently, I’m a whore for being in this relationship.”

“What?!”

Hoseok was up on his feet, his fists clenched. Yoongi reached his hand out to grasp his hand urgently.

“Sit down, Hobi-yah.”

The murmur of indignant voices was rising to a fever pitch when Jungkook suddenly stood up. Head still downcast, he muttered:

“Save your breaths. I’m moving out.”

No one stopped him, and his dazed surprise was hidden under his hoodie. He dragged himself out of the room, the stares of his brothers burning into his skin.

“The fuck just happened?” Jimin asked, inspecting your swollen knuckles. “Why is this happening?”

You chewed on your lip, wondering the same thing. What had happened to your close-knit boyfriends? Why was Jungkook suddenly discontented with the bond you all shared? Would your boyfriends slowly fall apart and float away like Jungkook?

You looked around the room, watching the intent faces of your boyfriends as they listened to Jin’s account of the day’s events. Would you lose them all one by one?

─── ·❆· ───

It was really awkward to go to your boyfriends’ studios when they practiced. Awkward because Jungkook was there too, dancing and sweating it out with the rest of them. He removed himself from the room whenever you showed up, and the shift in the mood was palpable.

The others confided in you that they weren’t on speaking terms with Jungkook either, and that the practice sessions were becoming too uncomfortable to be around each other. You knew well enough that it would take a toll on the group’s performance as a whole. After all, communication was paramount to ensure they were perfectly in sync for their dance routines.

You wished to attempt one last time to see if you could talk sense into Jungkook. So, you found yourself standing outside Jungkook’s studio one evening, long after the others had packed up and left. You had half a mind to turn around and leave. But a small voice inside your head kept telling you to give it one last try. Your boyfriends were already suffering enough. You owed them one last-ditch effort to try and mend things.

You raised your hand to press the buzzer, still unsure. Was this going to be a mistake?

The door opened even before the buzzer stopped buzzing. Jungkook stood in the doorway, with his grey sweatpants on, his hair swept back with a headband. His eyes widened in surprise, and you saw his muscles flex when he tightened his grip on the doorknob.

You were at a loss for words. It was strange because you were never out of words.

“I-uh…I thought…”

His veiny arm found purchase on your blouse, and his lips came crashing down on your mouth. His mouth worked urgently, claiming dominance before you could oppose. He pulled you inside and gripped both your hands behind your back, slamming the door closed.

“Jung…” you panted out, but he pressed his mouth harder, drowning your words. He nudged you towards the wall with his body, pinning you in place. His mouth never ceased attacking you, while he worked to trap your wrists into one hand.

His other hand roamed all over your skin, clawing and grabbing your flesh in hunger. Jungkook couldn’t believe you had shown up on his doorstep after so many weeks. It felt like a fever dream, and he held on to every piece of skin he could hold, desperately anxious not to let you slip away.

“I knew you’d come back,” he moaned between breaths, “…to me.”

You struggled in his grasp, trying hard to shake his hand off your wrists.

“No,” you breathed, turning your head slightly to stop the barrage of soul-sucking kisses. “I didn’t come back to you…”

He froze momentarily. Just a moment later, his grip hardened around your wrists. The soft emotion on his features evaporated into thin air.

Without a word, he pushed you tighter against the wall, pinning you under his shoulder blades.

“So, you’re telling me…” he hooked a finger into the waistband of your jeans, “…that you didn’t want me? You never thought about…” he pulled the zipper down, “this?” His hand tugged the jeans down urgently and slithered into the crook between your thighs.

“Stop it,” you said shakily, feeling your arms starting to fall asleep.

But he paid no heed. He pulled your leg and hoisted your hips up against the wall. You felt insecure with both your legs wrapped around his body, with nothing to support you except the wall behind your back.

“You’re telling me…” he repeated, lifting your hips and slowly dropping to his knees while adjusting your legs so they were on both sides of his neck, “…that you didn’t miss me at all?”

By that time, you were hovering mid-air with your neck against the wall and the rest of your body awkwardly supported on his shoulders.

Your hands were free of his grasp, but they were still pretty useless because they were trapped under the shoulder joints that were straining to keep you from falling.

He grinned from between your legs, licking his lips maliciously. His finger pushed the crotch of your underwear aside. He bent lightly and blew against your bare core.

You couldn’t help it, your core clenched at the rush of hot air and it drew another smirk on his face.

“See? You want me,” he crooned, laying the pad of his finger against your clit. You jerked slightly, and he shushed you softly.

“Don’t squirm, love. You’ll fall and break your neck,” he added with a wicked smile. “We don’t want that, do we?”

“Stop it, Jungkook,” you started, but he dove into your clit at the exact moment.

`Though his demeanor was relaxed and careless, on the inside he was anything but. He pressed his tongue flat against your bud, lapping all your juices with feral thirst. He saw your thigh muscles tremble at his ministrations, and he smiled into your pussy. Gosh, he had missed you so damn much.

His tongue dipped and swirled around inside you, and it took all your discipline to stay in place without squirming and snapping your neck. You hadn’t forgotten what a master Jungkook was with his tongue.

He started sucking and sloppily slurping up everything you had to offer, so hard that you were sure you weren’t going to last. You were definitely going to break your neck.

“Stop, just…” you moaned, feeling a cramp beginning in your neck. “I can’t… let me down. Just let me down, please.”

He raised his head from your crotch.

“Why should I trust that you won’t run?”

You could no longer feel your arms.

“Don’t you trust that I love you?” you replied, struggling to stay in position. “Do you think I am fine with losing you? Don’t you understand that I love you just as much as I love the others?”

He cocked his eyebrow at the last sentence, the slight sting of the words sinking in. With a reluctant grunt, he put his hands under your hips, slowly peeling you from the wall and setting you down.

You weren’t sure if you were paranoid, but it seemed that he knew your arms were still numb. He took his sweet time tugging your pants further down your thighs, but all of a sudden, he flipped you over and caught hold of your wrists again.

Damn, right when the little pinpricks on your arms had begun and your arms were regaining strength.

He pushed and held you down so your chin was against the floor, while his knee dug into the back of your thighs. He felt your hands struggle, and he grinned to himself.

“Y/N baby, you’re so weak. Don’t fight me, love.”

You cursed and writhed under his body, but a steady hand of iron clawed at your hips and didn’t let go.

“You don’t understand, Y/N,” he said, the slight sound of clothes scuffling behind you filling your ears. “You want me just as much as I want you.”

More sounds of something wet.

Page Break

Jungkook gave his shaft a few furious pumps, coating his thick glossy pre-cum all over his length. Damn, he was oozing so much pre-cum. He licked his lips and worked his dick, thinking of all the times in the past week that he had fantasized about your tight little pussy stretched around his cock.

His eyes scanned the pretty little birthmark on your left ass cheek. He smiled fondly, remembering how insecure you had been of it when you first started dating him. And the others. His smile vanished as quickly as it had come.

Jungkook had a lot of girth, and he usually prepped you well before entering. But not today. Not when you were writhing beneath him, trying to escape. With one quick push, he plowed into you, burying himself to the hilt.

A surprised whimper escaped your lips. He gave you no time to adjust, slamming into you repeatedly. The force of his thrusts shook your body, earning gasps that you fought hard to bite down. He kept up the unrelenting pace, pounding harder and harder with each thrust.

“What,” he panted between breaths, “won’t you moan for me?”

“Get off me, Jeon Jungkook,” you ground out through gritted teeth. He only chuckled in response.

His panting grew harder, and his thrusts became sloppier. You knew he was close. What would he do after that? He wasn’t going to let you go easily.

He pulled out and flipped you over, his hand returning to hold your hips down. Aligning his cock against your entrance, he pushed in again.

“Look at me,” he said, voice thick and needy. “Look at me when I cum in you.”

You stared back in defiance. Even though you loved Jungkook just as much as the others, none of them ever violated you like this. They hadn’t ever laid a finger on you against your will.

“You don’t love me,” you said calmly.

He raised an eyebrow, still slamming his hips into you.

“Your mind games won’t work on me, Y/N,” he replied, heavily panting. “You’re not going anywhere.” He licked the sweat on the corners of his mouth. “I’ll never let you leave me.”

With each thrust, your love for him withered and crumbled even more. A deep sense of regret washed over you for ever loving him. He didn’t understand love. He didn’t respect you. You had to get out of his grasp as quickly as you could. Would he take you somewhere and hold you hostage? Would he lock you up in a room and never let you see the light of day?

His thighs began shaking, and his thrusts became sloppy.

“Look here,” he grunted, teetering dangerously close to his release. “Fucking take my cum.”

He closed his eyes, his dick pulsing and throbbing inside you with the force of his orgasm. His grip on your body momentarily slipped, and you seized the chance.

Gathering all your strength, you punched him square in the balls, causing him to hiss in pain and topple over you. Even before he could react, you hit him in the ribs and pushed his body off, hauling your lower body out from under him.

His hand desperately snatched at your legs, but you kicked him and slithered away. He screamed out and clutched at your ankle, not letting go.

“Get off!” You screamed, reaching for the jeans bunched around your thighs.

The anger was bubbling in his face.

“No!” he shouted, trying to pull you by the ankle.

You swung your free leg at him, sending a hook kick that caught him under the chin with a sickening thud.

Without looking back, you scrambled up and unlocked the door, pulling your jeans up and running as fast as you could.

─── ·❆· ───

“Hot chocolate?”

You took the cup from Taehyung’s hand and nestled closer to Jin. Your boyfriend had bundled you up in blankets and seated you on his lap. Hoseok was sitting next to Jin, massaging, and rubbing your feet.

Namjoon and Jimin were sitting cross-legged on the rug, their mugs of hot chocolate forgotten. Yoongi was looking at the sheets of rain outside the window.

Everyone was eerily silent. To be fair, all of you had been shattered when Jungkook left. Over the weeks, a faint sense of normalcy had returned to the household. Until Jungkook cruelly wiped everything away again.

Jin had gone all kinds of crazy when you had run into his arms, your hair disheveled and tears streaming down your face. He had been unable to get a word out of you. He had examined the bite marks and welts with murderous rage, his blood boiling at the sight.

He had maintained his silence when you stayed in the shower for hours on end, curled into a ball on the bathroom floor. He had ground his teeth, bursting at the seams trying to hold his temper. He had soaped your battered body, his heart breaking at the way you tried to stifle your broken sobs.

When you had finally acquiesced to go out of the bathroom, he had carried you outside and dressed you gently. He had then bundled you up in the softest blankets as if they could protect and comfort you.

He had bent to kiss your cheek when you uttered it. Just one word.

“Jungkook.”

You had seen his jaw flexing dangerously. Bunching his shirt in your fingers, you had pulled him closer. Slowly the rest of your boyfriends had returned home. They had all seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere. Somehow, they had realized that something was wrong.

You hadn’t said a word when Jin displayed the welts on your wrists for them to see. He had told them about the scratches and nail marks all over your thighs, and you listened numbly. It had felt like he was talking about someone else.

The sound of someone’s phone brought you back to the present. The notification sound chimed again, and again. Suddenly, all the phones in the room started chiming incessantly, cutting through the heavy silence in the room.

“What the hell,” Yoongi said, reaching for his phone. “The fuck’s happening?”

All of you stared at Yoongi, the notification sounds still going off in the background.

“What the fuck!” he shouted, furiously swiping at his phone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Taehyung went to his side, alarmed at the panic in his voice.

“Hyung?”

“FanLive,” Yoongi blurted out, holding his phone up towards all of you. “Jungkook is on FanLive.”

“What?” Namjoon asked mildly, hopping to his feet and peering into Yoongi’s screen. “What about it?”

Yoongi hit the speaker button, setting the volume to Maximum.

“… I was so nervous,” Jungkook’s syrupy voice rang out from the phone, and your ears perked up. “…but I am so happy that I shared this with you. I love all our fans. I really hope you will make her feel safe and welcome.”

Jin slid his buzzing phone out of his pocket, and a news notification flashed on his screen. You looked at it dumbfounded, not trusting your eyes.

‘BBS BAND MEMBER REVEALS GIRLFRIEND!’

Jungkook’s voice was still pouring out of Yoongi’s phone.

“I love this person so much; she makes me really happy.” You could almost hear his bunny smile. You felt sick.

“… We talked a lot and decided it’s time to share our secret. So, yeah… my girlfriend’s name is…” he paused, and all your muscles tensed, “…Y/N.”

You blinked. The constant ringing of phones in the room grated on your nerves. Jin’s knuckles were white, his fingers digging into the sides of his phone. He was seething, the anger growing inside him like an inferno.

“That. piece. of. Shit,” Jin spat out, his body trembling in rage. “I’m going to…”

Jungkook’s rabbity voice piped up again, he was probably showing something to the camera.

“…this is a picture of us…”

You pounced on Yoongi, grabbing the phone.

“Give me that, Yoongi.”

Jungkook was grinning in a successful attempt at cuteness. A turtleneck sweater was hiding the bruises on his neck that your kick had caused. You knew he had probably used heavy concealers to mask the injuries from the struggle.

He was holding his phone up to the camera, and you saw the picture he was showing. It was a selfie Jungkook had taken with you several months ago. You were both smiling at the camera, leaning against each other cozily.

“… this is my favorite picture, Y/N looks so cute…”

Jungkook droned on about how much he adored you and how lucky he was. He even had the nerve to say how happy his band members were for him. You didn’t bat an eyelid, drinking in all the blatant lies he spewed on live camera.

“…that’s the reason for this surprise live stream. Thank you for your love, please accept Y/N too…”

He kept repeating your name as much as he could, as if he wanted to punch your name into every viewer’s brain. That you were his. And his alone.

The live stream ended, and Yoongi flung his phone down in disgust.

“Sick, pathetic leech…” he began, slamming the coffee table. “I am going to strangle him.”

He rose to his feet, but Jimin gripped his wrist tightly.

“No, hyung. Not now.”

“He violated Y/N!” Yoongi screamed out, and Jin flinched. “And now this? I want him dead!”

“Yoongi-yah,” Jin’s firm voice stopped Yoongi’s angry tirade. “Yoongi-yah, we’re all furious. I get it. But we should take a minute to think what to do.”

The younger man glanced at you, and you nodded.

“He has branded me to the world as his girlfriend. You will tarnish yourself if you go beat him up. And that’s not intelligent.”

Namjoon hummed in agreement.

“I want to wrap my fingers around his throat and feel his life leave his body though,” Namjoon said, an unusual murderous look glinting in his eyes.

The buzzing of your phone briefly broke your attention, and you glanced at the screen. It was Hae Jung, one of the BBS stylists. The texts were already flooding your screen. The latest ones popped up in the notification shade.

Hae Jung: Get out of the apartment quick!

Hae Jung: You can’t be seen with the rest of them!

Hae Jung: Y/N!! Answer my calls just once!

“Uh, Jinnie?” You tugged at his sleeve, pulling him gently.

He was simmering in a cold rage, and his gaze was sharp like knives when he snapped out a “What?”

You had a temper of your own and you found it kindling. Taking a deep breath, you displayed your phone for him to see.

“Hae Jung says I should leave the apartment at once. I can’t be seen with any of you. She’s got a point.”

Jin’s wide shoulders broadened as he placed his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Taehyung’s hand squeezed his shoulder, and he said,

“She’s right, hyung. Y/N has to leave.” He composed himself to mask the little break in his voice. “Just for now.”

Namjoon, whose brain processed things 10x quicker, gripped your hand, alarmed.

“I’d be damned if we sent Y/N straight to Jungkook’s apartment.” He gritted his teeth, “Especially after what he just did to her.”

His eyes involuntarily swept over the bruises on your neck.

“Of course not,” Yoongi said, folding his arms. “We’ll keep her safe at a hotel.”

Jimin’s fingers intertwined with yours, and he gave you a reassuring squeeze.

“Let’s send a few of our bodyguard hyungs to keep her company.”

Hoseok, who had been talking to one of the managers, cut the call and flipped his phone closed.

“It’s already a nightmare on Twitter. We need to secure Y/N as fast as humanly possible. All the tabloids will be raining upon us like vultures soon.”

Namjoon’s leader instincts kicked into action, and before long they were smuggling you into one of their getaway cars.

“Here,” Jimin said, slipped out of his coat and draping it on your head. “Stay low, baby.”

Hoseok slid next to you, and just before he could slam the door shut, Jin’s veiny hand slithered into the crack.

He caught hold of your wrist and gripped hard, as if transferring all his strength over to you. No words were exchanged, but the weight of unspoken words was evident in his grip. You nodded silently, and he let go.

Without losing another second, Hoseok slammed the door and the car raced into the traffic, headed straight to a hotel.

─── ·❆· ───

#WEAREHAPPYFORYOU

#BBSGIRLFRIEND

#WELOVEYOUJK

#CONGRATULATIONS_OUR_JK

The bird app was full of Twitter trends talking about Jungkook’s bombshell. Hoseok’s phone kept buzzing every few seconds from all the posts and hashtags tagging his band’s shared Twitter handle.

He had removed your SIM card and broken it, handing you a new one instead. He had also signed you out of all your social media accounts. You had been essentially cut off from any media that would give your identity away.

“Baby, I’ve ordered room service,” Hoseok said, drawing the blinds closed. He did a routine sweep of the suite, checking for hidden cameras out of habit.

“Do you want anything, Y/N?” he asked, kneeling on the floor, and peering under the bed.

“I just want you to hold me,” you said, hugging your knees and gazing at his bent form.

He looked up, those soft brown eyes emanating so much warmth. Without a word, he dragged himself up and crawled into bed, pulling you into a gentle embrace.

His nose was warm against the side of your neck, and you inhaled deep breaths of his comforting presence. Hoseok had the innate ability to bring cheer wherever he went, and it was probably why your boyfriends had sent him to keep you company.

“Y/N,” he said, drawing the words out. “Don’t… please don’t resent us for this,” he said, and your heart broke.

“No, no, Hobi-” you said, turning slightly to look into his glistening eyes. “-I never will.” Taking his hand, put it against your cheek. “I’d never resent falling in love with all of you.”

He nodded and smiled happily, his fears crumbling to dust.

“Just- don’t let Jungkook ruin what we have,” he whispered, and you hummed in agreement. You had not for one moment regretted being with them. Jin had opened the doors wide open to so much love, much more than you had ever imagined.

─── ·❆· ───

It had been four days since you went into hiding. Your boyfriends took turns to sneak visits, it was a mystery how they managed to achieve that feat without getting caught by paparazzi. To be fair, the hotel you were sheltered in catered to celebrities all the time, and the staff were very discreet.

Your stomach rumbled, and you scratched your tummy. Whether it was due to your impending periods, you didn’t know, but you craved ramen. Especially the kind with tteokbokki – that was your favorite. Did you dare go down to the nearest convenience store and eat some?

Throwing Jin’s hoodie on, you let your hair loose under Taehyung’s beanie. Hoseok’s baggy pants were your favorite, they were oh so comfortable. Your sunglasses took a while to find, they were buried at the bottom of the drawer.

Looking at the mirror, you were satisfied with your camouflage and decided to step out. The walk to the convenience store took longer than you had expected. There wasn’t one in sight for a few blocks. It felt good to stretch your legs after so many days. But by the time you entered a store, you were already wondering if it was a good call.

The store was quiet. A bit too quiet for your liking. You’d have much preferred a crowded and noisy ambiance, it would have made you far less noticeable. The heavy oily smell of sizzling fritters wafted to your nostrils, interspersed with the earthy aroma of ground coffee beans.

There were a few girls around the ramen aisle, and you tried hard to be inconspicuous while scanning the rows for your favorite robokki brand. All went well, and you managed to get the packet scanned and billed.

You were waiting in line to use the hot water dispenser, wishing you’d stayed put in the hotel room. The girl standing before you turned with her cup of hot noodles, catching you smack in the eyes. The sunglasses flew off your face, and the hot liquid from her noodles splashed across your neck.

“I’m so sorry,” she shrieked, setting the noodles down in an attempt to help you.

“No, I- it’s okay,” you muttered, deciding to get the hell out of there. In your haste, you bumped into a few more people standing in line behind you.

“Hey,” a girl shouted, picking up your sunglasses from the floor. “You left this…”

You shook your head and tried to dart out of there, but she was quicker. She body-blocked you, extending her arm towards you. You mumbled a quick “Thanks” and tried to move, but she persisted.

“I’ve seen you…” Suddenly, recognition dawned on her face. “You’re Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend.”

“Er, no,” you said, kicking yourself for ever leaving the hotel.

“Ji Hee! Soo Yeon!” she shrieked, beside herself in excitement. “Come here quick!”

The girls you had seen in the line circled on you, wondering what the commotion was about.

“It’s her! It’s Jungkook oppa’s girlfriend!”

They advanced on you slowly, peering into your shocked face.

“You?” one girl snickered in a mocking tone. “What makes you so special?”

By that time, you were trapped amid four girls, and no one else seemed to care about the bevy of girls in the ramen section.

Another girl took a section of your hair and flicked it in disdain, clicking her tongue.

“Just what did oppa see in you?”

The third one egged her friend on saying, “Good that you threw ramen over her, Min Ji!”

“Empty the rest on her too!”

You started to back away, but the girl behind you pushed you, sending you tumbling forward.

“Let me g-“

The girl had thrown the rest of her noodles on you before you even finished your sentence. Instinctively, your eyes closed for a split second, and you felt your hair being pulled. A weak slap managed to jerk your face sideways before the owner yelled out loudly.

“Hey, no fighting. Take it outside!”

One arm grabbed your hoodie, and another pulled you out by the hair. The one called Soo Yeon threw your sunglasses on the pavement and stepped on it, crushing the glass to bits.

Passersby began to stare, and you had no choice but to make a run for it. You were stronger than your assailants, partly because Jungkook had been your gym partner, and all those arm days came to your rescue.

It was no use to try and keep a low profile now that you were out on the road. Pushing one girl away, you landed a karate chop on the arm pulling your hair. The owner of the arm yelped in pain, and you barreled towards the third one, butting her torso with your head and sending her tumbling down.

You ran like the wind, not once looking back. You hoped fervently that no passerby had recorded the whole tussle on their phone. God, you’d ruin your boyfriends if the little spectacle ever went viral.

Dripping in ramen and terribly out of breath, you made it to the hotel’s private entrance. A car was pulling up, and a startled voice called out your name just as you pressed the elevator button.

“Y/N?”

Jimin bounded out of the car, startled at seeing your disheveled appearance.

“What the hell happened?”

─── ·❆· ───

“But why did you call this urgent meeting, Namjoonah?” the band’s executive PD asked, rolling the paperweight on the table. The conference room in the BBS building was where the group’s most iconic song lyrics were birthed. It had been a room that had witnessed loud arguments about line distribution, heartbreaks over missed awards, and collective joy over record breaks.

“Let the others arrive,” Namjoon replied, his jaw set in determination.

Jin came in soon, followed by a steady trickle of the rest of the band. All except Jungkook of course.

“The fuck is he?” Namjoon bit out, impatiently glancing at the digital clock.

“We’ll get down to business anyway, good that’s he’s not here now,” Jin said, putting an arm over Taehyung’s lap to stop him from fidgeting.

“Well then,” the PD said, dragging a notepad towards him. “What is the purpose of this meeting?”

Everyone looked at Namjoon in unison, expecting him to spell it out for them.

“We all want to terminate our contracts with the agency,” he began, causing the PD to inhale sharply and lean forward urgently.

“What?”

“… effective immediately,” Namjoon said, his mouth set in a straight line.

“But why? Have we failed you in any way? You can tell me your grievances! I can try and resolve…”

Yoongi’s slow drawling voice eclipsed his boss’s.

“We are willing to reconsider if…”

The PD’s eyes widened in urgency. “If?”

“If you terminate Jungkook’s contract instead.”

Right on cue, the door opened and Jungkook walked in, an air of lazy arrogance stamped all over him.

He slipped into a seat, swiveling on his chair from left to right just to spite the men who were glaring at him.

“Don’t own a watch?” Jin asked scathingly, earning just a cool raise of eyebrows in response.

The PD was still speechless from the earlier discussion, so he didn’t participate in the bickering over Jungkook’s lack of punctuality. The babble of voices grew louder and louder around him.

“I don’t care for your disapproval,” Jungkook was shouting, slapping his fist on the table, when the boss shook himself into action.

“Stop!” he yelled, his voice cutting through the cacophony.

He glared at the youngest member, effectively silencing him.

“Now, what the hell is this actually about?” He turned to Jin. “You! Eldest! Speak.”

Jin looked at Namjoon, who nodded encouragingly. He cleared his throat, unsure how to start.

“Well, you know about our girlfriend…”

The boss sighed. Of course, this was about you. He had been privy to the unusual relationship between you and his artists. And he would be lying if he said he hadn’t expected this rift to occur sometime or the other. He had had years of experience working with hormonal youngsters to expect otherwise.

“Personal conflicts cannot influence your contracts,” he said, eyeing Jin sternly.

“Yeah, tell him,” Jungkook drawled haughtily.

“And you, shut your face,” the boss spat out, furious that his multimillion-dollar band was fraying at the edges because of girl problems.

“Personal?” Taehyung asked incredulously. “Of course it’s personal! Our girlfriend got assaulted and harassed because of him!”

“Correction. My girlfriend,” Jungkook said, staring at Jin’s throbbing neck veins. “She’d have been safe with me if she hadn’t been kidnapped and left uncared for.”

“The nerve,” Hoseok shouted, getting to his feet angrily.

Jimin pulled him back to his seat, hissing sharply.

“Sit down, hyung. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

Jungkook leaned forward, his black eyes glowering at Jin.

“I want to know where you’ve hidden her.”

“You’ve caused her enough harm,” Yoongi snapped. “You were the one who violated her privacy. You showed her to the world. You are the reason she got assaulted. You jeopardized her safety.”

Jungkook pursed his lips in stony mutiny. He had no witty response to Yoongi’s allegations.

“Well, PDnim, we want Jungkook’s contract terminated immediately. We refuse to work with him,” Jimin said, getting back on track.

“If you terminate me,” Jungkook said, leaning on his chair and rocking himself gently, “I’ll sue you. Every one of you. I’ll sue the agency till there isn’t a penny left.”

─── ·❆· ───

You knew it hadn’t gone well as soon as you saw the disgruntled looks on your boyfriends’ faces. They had all come to your hotel room with sulky faces.

“Babe?” you asked, holding the coat as Hoseok shrugged himself out of it.

“No go, Y/N,” Jimin said, shaking his head. “PDnim can’t terminate him. And he threatened to sue the agency too.”

There had been only a slim chance of it ever working out, so it wasn’t a big blow. But it did sting your boyfriends to even think of working with Jungkook ever again.

Jin pulled you snug against his body, sighing heavily.

“We’ll figure something out,” you said, squeezing his big arms that were wound around your torso.

“Hmm,” he mumbled half-heartedly. “We got you some lamb skewers,” he said, burying his face into your neck.

“Oh damn it, I sat on it!” Namjoon whined, guiltily eyeing the now squished package he dug out of his coat.

Everyone giggled, a sudden ease settling amid everyone in the house. It felt just like old times. Well, at least partially.

“Fuck you, Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi said, pulling the package from his clumsy brother. “Now I need to operate on this and save it.”

Another wave of giggles. Somehow it felt like you would all survive the situation and turn out okay.

“Mmm, kiss me,” Taehyung said, sandwiching you between Jin and himself. “I love it when you laugh.”

He dipped his head, cupping your cheeks fondly. Jin pressed himself against your back, his hands moving up to cup your breasts.

“Yah, get a room!” Hoseok snickered, slapping Taehyung’s butt playfully.

You smirked in response, pulling Taehyung’s boxy lips towards your mouth, and leaving teasing licks on the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, don’t tease,” he complained, his outrageously deep voice sending shivers up your spine. Jin’s hands squeezed your breasts through your shirt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Jin was a sucker for your tits, he loved playing with them. They were his drug of choice.

His bulge poked your back, and he slowly moved backward, taking care not to disturb Taehyung’s kissing. The others barely paid attention, they were lounging about, talking, or scrolling through their phones.

Jin was halfway through a doorway when Jimin’s surprised yell stilled him.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, furiously swiping on his phone.

Taehyung was just as startled, and you peeked around his head to see what bothered Jimin so much.

“What is it?” you began to ask, just as the others started to crane their heads over Jimin’s phone.

No one responded, so you pulled yourself out of the Jin-Tae sandwich and went to investigate. Pushing Hoseok’s head to the side, you stared at Jimin’s screen. And your jaw dropped to the floor.

‘BREAKING NEWS: BBS Band member’s girlfriend cheats on him with ANOTHER member!

Tap to see SHOCKING pictures!’

─── ·❆· ───

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xmaruu11 · 3 years ago

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TUBBO CHARACTER STUDY I DID BACK IN APRIL!!!

Tubbo as an animal hybrid Shapeshifer

Notes and HeadCannons down below :D

1- Because he is an orphan, he doesnt know how to control his shapeshifting abilities, so his body switches based on emotion. However, he is capable of switching at will if he concentrates enough and doesnt let his emotions overtake him

2- He is usually a bee cuz thats what he founds comfort in. So when he is having normal or not to extreme negative emotions, he has his bee characteristics But ever since schlatts administration, everytime he fells extreme stress, or something triggers his trauma, he grows horns

3- You can see I draw him with artificial horns in his armor and wedding outfit, and yall be like, "werent horns a sign for his trauma", and yes, yes they are But the idea of having artificial horns is his way of confronting and reclaiming his fear. And because they are artificial, he can take them off whenever he wants to. He has control over them instead of them having control over him. Its also worth mentioning that they were both gifts that ranboo made for him (Ranboos made his armor & i made the crown with that in mind)

4- If he wants to shapeshift, he has to learn more about the hybrid / animal, OR spend lots of time with a hybrid/animal of that species and slowly he can copy things and learn from them Thats how he usually does it, he grew up around bees, and he spend lots of time with schlatt. And yes, that means he could shapeshift into a piglin if he wanted, cuz of Michael But he doesnt cuz he also has bad memories because of Techno

5- His body strenght and ablities change too. Tubbo is someone whos already stronger than Tommy or Ranboo even as a bee, so if he ever shifts to a piglin, he would be pretty fucking strong

6- As a bee, HE CAN FLY. Not like Origins Tubbo, because he is not used to the wings yet, but he can fly around ranboos height or even more Still he forgets he has wings, thats why he takes lots of fall damage,,, he just forgets he has them And he starts flying when he is happy

7- Shapeshifting doesnt hurt him at all, he doesnt even realize when it happens. The horns grew overnight and he never knew about them until he saw a mirror

8- Because he doesnt know how to control it, the only shifts that happen quick are the ones carried by intense emotions Once he learns how to control his abilities, he could shapeshift between species in the blink of an eye

9- His shapeshifting abilities only work with animals / animal oriented hybrids or mobs Unlike quackity, who can shapeshift like a Ditto lets say, Tubbo has a limited rage and can only be a hybrid of the species, not shift fully to the animal/mob

10- As it is shown in the picture, he doesn’t have external ears (idk how you call them) he has the earholes hidden Yes, he Can shapeshift his body to have ears, but it rarely happens

11- Him being a hybrid bee means that he at least in a happy state of mind in general, that he haven’t reach rock bottom yet. I like to think the bee features also mean innocence to him, that’s why after the Manberg festival he lost them. But after the final disc war, in snowchester, he got them back, but this time they were different, he also got wings. Meaning he got his innocence/ childish nature back, but he still grew up he became less naive

12- Everyone knew he was a shapeshifter after the manberg festival, when his bee features disappear completely and he just looked like a normal human. But it became more obvious when the Ram horns started growing

13- during the Exile era, he hid his horns under Tommy’s bandana cuz he knew ppl would compare him to Schlatt, so he rarely took it off The only people who seen him without his bandana (bc he was comfortable enough to not wear it) were Tommy (during the disc finale) and Ranboo

#dreamsmp #dream smp #tubbo #fanart #tubbo underscore #tubbo_#mcyt #character study #my art

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mx-barnes · 3 years ago

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'Til the end of the line

Stucky x Gender-neutral!Reader

Summary: One night Y/n decides to run away because Steve and Bucky have been distant and they feel as though they don't love them anymore when in fact it wasn't that at all.

Word Count:6.4k oop-

Warnings: Sexual assault (kinda but not really described in detail), Abuse (Emotional and Physical), PTSD, Panic Attack, Torture, Sad!Bucky, Sad!Steve, HYDRA, cheating (although no one actually cheats reader just thinks that they are), Implied smut (consensual), Kidnapping, Forced marriage (never actually happens), Gun Violence, Death, alcohol consumption, swearing, pet names. I think that's it lmk if there is more.

A/N: This was something I wrote on my Wattpad first. This is kind of an intense read but I really enjoyed writing it. It was something newer. Please read the warnings before reading because I encourage you not to read if any of the above are triggering to you. Know that if you have gone through any of them above my messages are always open. All writing my own. Gifs not my own.

Masterlist

3:30 AM is when Bucky and Steve got home tonight. They didn't explain just saying that it was something to do with how HYDRA was moving in on their territory and needed to sort it out and show them whose boss.

Your boys had been getting home awfully late lately and hiding stuff from you. Sneaking around when they thought you were asleep. With them being mob bosses, you understood they had responsibilities and appearances to keep up, but they usually never stayed working later than 12. Even if they did work past, they made sure one of them was with you, whether it be Steve or Bucky.

You loved your boys you did but they had seemed distant recently. You had wondered if they had gotten bored. You weren't the first person to join this relationship. You were hoping you would be the last but maybe they didn't want that?

It carried on the same way for nearly 2 weeks so you decided it was time for you to move on. They hadn't paid you any attention for those 2 weeks. You decided you would pack up most of your things and leave.

Leaving was hard. Sam had been posted outside the door for what seemed like forever but when it came time for his shift to be up a newer man who you had never seen before his name was Dean Dagget you think took his place that was your chance to sneak out. Leaving a sticky note that read I'm sorry. You two deserve the world sorry I couldn't give it to you. I won't tell anyone your secret's safe with me. Goodbye. Love Y/n.

It may have been heartbreaking to leave but it was for the best. This way they could move on to better people without having to worry about you. Your dad lived in California, but he still had a small apartment in Brooklyn, so you had called him hoping you could rent it out while you got back on your feet. Of course, when you moved in with the boys they had allowed you to quit your job so you wouldn't have to lift a finger. Now thinking back on it it was a bad idea. Of course, back then you had thought you would never break up with Steve and Bucky so you didn't mind quitting your job to have them dote on you.

<~>

Meanwhile, when Bucky and Steve got back to an empty unguarded mansion they thought you had gone out shopping. You loved dragging Sam out to the mall for every new little sale and helping him pick out clothes for him and jewelry for his girlfriend.

Bucky was just about to pull out his phone to text you and see when you would be home that's when Steve found the note on the kitchen counter. Reading it aloud to Bucky. His eyes started to water you had left. The ring box in his pocket growing heavier as he thought of what he had done to mess this up.

Steve immediately saw his boyfriend spiraling and came to his aid. "Buck it's not your fault we have to find them."

How was it that Steve had always known what to say and when to say it? He was right though they needed to find you tell you how much you meant to the both of them.

<~>

"They left them," a rough voice speaks into the phone.

"Have you found where they are right now?" Alexander Pierce's voice questions.

"They're in the apartment building their dad owns of course they think it's just one apartment. The lucky bastard doesn't realize they're mob royalty. Wasting away with Barnes and Rogers when they would be so much better fit for me."

"Settle down Dean. We need to play this just right if we want to align our businesses."

"Come on uncle what more could we do we just have to grab them and it'll be over with."

"We are making the play tonight I am going to need you at the house."

"Yes, uncle."

"Don't worry Dean you will have them as your spouse soon enough," Pierce says as he hangs up the phone. Sighing to himself about his over-giddy nephew and how you had been so ignorant to all of your dad's illegal dealings.

<~>

"Yes, dad I'm being safe. Why are you so worried it's not like they are going to come back and kill me," you joked. Chuckling more to yourself they wouldn't kill you, would they? No, they couldn't as long as you didn't tell anyone their secret you were safe.

"I just liked it better when I knew that they would protect you. I don't like you in Brooklyn by yourself. Why won't you tell me why you guys broke up? I really thought you guys were gonna get married."

"Dad I told you they didn't want that and I'm fine. I'm my own person."

"I know, I know I just get worried," your dad finally let a chuckle slip from him.

"I know dad I love you. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Ok munchkin. Love you too," and with that, you ended the call and went to sit on the couch in your living room to watch tv.

Scrolling through the channels you found some game shows type thing and put that on not caring what was on just wanting background noise as you scrolled through your Instagram feed.

You slowly progressively become more and more tired so you retire to your room not before turning off the tv and the lights you had turned on.

You were pulled out of your sleep by something falling over. You had become a light sleeper since you left Steve and Bucky. It was something you had developed to make sure that they didn't send someone to kill you. Slowly getting out of your bed careful not to make the bed squeak you make your way to your living room. Not before stopping just before your door to get the baseball bat you had stashed by your door.

Now walking out into your kitchen with your bat raised you to check around to make sure no one can surprise you. Quietly you creep across the room to where your living room is. Also checking the surroundings you don't find anyone. There's a sharp pain in the back of your head and you fall face-first into your couch. That's the last thing you feel before complete and utter darkness.

<~>

Bucky and Steve had been working tirelessly trying to find any place you would go to seek refuge. Your father owned a bunch of apartment buildings in Brooklyn. Figuring you were probably subletting in one of those buildings. But they couldn't exactly go up to each building and ask if you lived there not without raising any red flags.

They needed to find you. Beg you to come back to them. They loved you and would do anything to make up for whatever they did wrong. You were the most important thing in their lives besides each other. They couldn't imagine their future without you. Being so far apart from you was killing them.

If anyone could find you it was Natasha. She had worked for the men for years. When she first joined they shamelessly flirted with her dropping sexual innuendos into the conversation whenever they could. That all changed when they met you.

It was a Wednesday night Bucky couldn't sleep so he had gone out for a walk to his favorite little 24-hour cafe and there you were. Sitting in the little booth drinking chai tea. He had looked like a perv just staring at you through the window that's when he walked inside. He had ordered his drink and turned to leave not before giving you one last look but instead of finding you there he found you right in front of him with his newly bought drink on your jacket.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Please let me pay for it," you stated.

"Oh don't worry about it doll. I got it. I'm Bucky by the way," he reached his hand out.

Gracefully you took it he brought it to his lips. "Y/n,'" you giggled. Oh, how he would do anything in the world to hear that sound over again.

You exchanged numbers and you were off. Not before buying him another coffee. He had rushed home to tell Steve about you. When he got home he realized the ridiculous time and decided to tell him about you in the morning.

The very next day Steve bumped into you. Although he played it off as an accident he did mean to bump into you. You and Steve had exchanged numbers. He and Bucky set dates with you. Both of them went swimmingly that's when they decided to have one of them crash the other one's date and come clean. How they were seeing each other and they wanted you to join them. You were hesitant at first scared of what people will think but soon got over it. That was 3 years ago. Now here they were cuddled up on the couch waiting for Natasha to tell them some sliver of good news.

It was good news. She had found what apartment complex you were staying in. Even the apartment number so now all they had to do was break into your place and ask you why you left.

<~>

Dean was getting impatient and when he saw how his uncle's men had hurt you he was furious. He saw red. Wanting to kill the man or woman who had caused you pain. He had never met you in real life (except for that night you slipped out of the Barnes-Rogers residents) only on a file in his uncle's office but he knew he was in love with you.

Everything about you was enchanting. Now he had you all to himself maybe having to tie up a few loose ends such as your exes. That way they didn't come sniffing around hoping to win you back. Even if they did try if he couldn't have you no one could. You were far too special to allow you out of his sight. He had the wedding already set up. Next month you would no longer be Y/n Y/l/n you would be Y/n Dagget. He loved the sound of that. Finally, you would be his.

You slowly started to regain consciousness and Dean couldn't be happier. Finally, he had the chance to explain why you were here and apologize for the rough way you were taken. He needed you to understand that he loved you. He has loved you since the first day he saw your photo.

<~>

Being extra careful not to wake the neighbor's Steve and Bucky broke into your apartment. It was quite small but it had things that just screamed you. Knickknacks lined bookcases as well as blankets and pillows galore. One thing that didn't scream you was that everything was a mess as if a struggle had occurred.

Steve's mind was going a mile a minute. You would never leave your apartment to look like this. Even after a break-up if anything you would be stressed and it'd be completely spotless. Bucky's mind was also thinking the same thing. The only way that it would be this disorganized is if something happened to you. This sent Bucky into a mild panic attack that he wasn't able to stop whoever took you. This soon bubbled over into rage. Rage that you left them.

"We have to find them, Stevie," Bucky huffed.

"We will Buck. I'll get Nat on it," Steve said steeling over his nerves this was no time to be panicking they needed to get you back safe and sound then he can panic when you are safely back in his arms.

"You don't need to get Nat on it. It's obviously Pierce. He saw when they were at their weakest and struck he knows their our weak spot," Bucky began shaking whether it was from rage or fear he didn't know.

"Fine but we still need Nat to help locate them." Steve was barely holding together. He just needed to suppress his feelings for a little while longer. He needed to know you were safe.

<~>

You awoke in a dark room or wait no you were blindfolded. If this was Bucky and Steve they would've taken the blindfold off possibly even laid you down in a comfortable bed not bound and gagged to a chair. Or would they? Honestly, you didn't know it didn't seem like their style.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a voice. It was sort of gruff but commanding there is an edge to it, a dangerous edge. You were already scared now you are more submissive. Not wanting to feel the wrath of the man behind this false sweet personality. As the voice approached the blindfolded was removed. The lighting didn't change much, it was still dark only lit by a single lightbulb. Next, the gag was removed. While the ropes remained around your wrists searing into your skin.

"Hello darling," the voice spoke. You now had a face to put with it. Not only a face but a name. Your stomach dropped. It was Dean Dagget he was one of Bucky and Steve's men.

"Please tell Steve and Bucky I wouldn't tell their secret. I promise they don't have to kill me," you begged.

"What you think I work for them?" Dean laughed hysterically. "No honey I work for HYDRA."

You didn't think your stomach could drop any further and then it does. You knew that Steve and Bucky were bad but they never killed unless necessary where HYDRA killed for sport. If they had you they were going to use you as a message.

"Please. No, I don't want to die. I mean nothing to them anymore. I left them. They don't want anything to do with me. I prom-" you rambled.

"Honey, I know you left them I was there that day. Do you really not remember cause I sure as hell remember you." he licked his lips. Rubbing his hands together. "You aren't going to die either honey. You and I are to be wed 1 month for now."

Your jaw dropped. Was this deranged man thinking you would marry him? You didn't know the first thing about him.

"I know it's a lot to take in and I am sorry for the manner in which you were brought here. I will have the men who hurt you killed. They shouldn't have done that. If you promise not to run I can and will remove the binds. Do you promise?" You nod your head. "Good." He unties the ropes. "Come let us go to the bedroom. You looked beautiful right now but I can almost guarantee you'll look better under me."

<~>

Turns out that HYDRA has a lot of property. 150 warehouses in Brooklyn alone. Manhattan they have over 300. Houses were another story entirely 500 just in Brooklyn. They had a lot of property to out simply.

It was like searching for a needle in a haystack but having multiple haystacks and the needle being in only one.

How where they suppose to find you?

Natasha was working tirelessly but she had a life too. Sam also had begun doing recon turning up nothing. It had been at least 2 weeks since you had been taken. Bucky threw himself into his work feeling like it was all his fault. The ring box he had been carrying the day you left shoved far into the back of his desk. Steve wasn't doing too much better he as well threw himself into work. Instead of hiding the ring, he carried in his pocket in his desk he instead decided to leave it out in the open on his desk as a reminder to keep going.

Bucky and he hadn't been intimate since you left and he was ashamed to admit he was horny which only made his guilt amplify. He wanted Bucky yet he felt guilty for wanting him. He couldn't remember a time before you. How he and Bucky would have a new girl with them almost every night trying desperately to find that extra missing piece. That's when they met you. The first time they had gotten intimate was amazing everything felt whole. Nothing felt fake but now everything was crashing down around him. His entire life that he had so graciously built from the bottom was now crumbling.

"We've got something." Natasha ran into his office saying. Immediately Steve perked up. He ran to his conjoined office with Bucky pounding on the door.

"Buck Nat's got something."

Bucky slowly made his way up from his desk. Stumbling over to the door that conjoined his and Steve's offices. He made it to the door not before tripping at least 10 times. Opening the door anybody who had a sense of smell could tell that Bucky had been drinking. Steve was far past worrying for Bucky. Of course, he cared for his boyfriend but he was more worried about you. He would come later Bucky was here with him you weren't. He needed to cut Bucky off but that would end up with punches thrown.

"Buck maybe you should lay off the whisky for a bit. Sober up so we can bring Y/n home."

"What 'm fine. Don' needa worry 'bout meh," Bucky slurring his words together.

"Actually I do. When was the last time you had a glass of water?" Steve questioned completely forgetting about Natasha for a minute.

"Probably when I saw Y/n last- wait no you made me drink a glass last week."

"Ok, Buck you are cut off for now. We need you level-headed for this. So I'm gonna get one of the guys to get you some water. You are going to drink it all, then you are gonna take a nap in our bed, or I'm grounding you to the house. I can't risk you getting hurt bubbas," Steve commanded.

"It's not the same Stebe. It's not the same."

"We'll get them back I promise." and with that Steve kissed Bucky on the head and sent him back to your guys' room hoping he will be sober enough to help him. He was missing you and Steve could tell.

<~>

Life had been really hard recently there was only 1 week till the marriage. The house had been busy. Dean getting tux alterations. Your outfit thank god fit perfectly. Most days you sat in the little nook by the window just staring out into the vast nothingness. You had wanted to get married for as long as you could remember just never like this. You wanted to marry Bucky and Steve.

Dean came up beside you planting an unwanted kiss on your head, "You excited darling?"

You muster up all the fake energy you can and respond "So excited. I can't believe I ever thought about marrying Steve and Bucky."

Dean tsked and raised his hand "You know better to mention their names. I'm sorry honey but you have to learn."

Dean struck you hard across the face. Tears begin to well in your eyes. Willing yourself not to let them slip you hold back, not letting him have the satisfaction of seeing you so weak and vulnerable. Besides the quiver in your lip and the unshed tears you think you handled yourself fairly well.

You had become a shell of who you used to be. All the abuse whether it be sexual, physical, or emotional your walls were coming down. He was starting to condition you to be the obedient little spouse that was only used as a pleasure toy for the other. You hoped Bucky and Steve were looking for you but maybe they were glad to be finally rid of you. Rid of your incessant pestering to eat healthily and drink water.

That's when loud shouts were heard from the front of the house. Gunshots rattled around in your brain before you were swiftly swept away and taken to the panic room by Dean. Him drawing his gun muttering something about he should've killed those useless lugs when he had the chance. The door to the room was then safely shut.

<~>

Bucky sobered up more so after his 3-hour long nap. He wasn't at 100% but he was well enough that he could function. He wanted to be there for you after they saved you from HYDRA. He knew what it was like to be in their grips. He couldn't imagine the kind of torture you were enduring.

When he sauntered into Steve's office Steve's head was down on his desk. What sounded like muffled crying. Walking over behind the desk Bucky put his hand on his shoulder Steve looked up at him his cheeks were stained red, his eyes puffy and red also. Bucky's heart broke even more. He had been so selfish only thinking about himself. Steve had lost you too. He needed his boyfriend. Remembering that Bucky had dismissed Steve. He hadn't kissed Steve at all since you had left. He had been denying Steve affection.

Bucky lifted Steve's head to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry." That's all he said it's all he could say. He felt terrible for ignoring him. He was so consumed by his grief that he completely forgot about his boyfriend.

"It's okay Buck you were grieving just like I am," Steve professed. Even though his words said it was ok it wasn't and Bucky knew it.

"Steve. Stevie, it's not ok. I shouldn't have pushed you away. I was so lost without them. I lost track of what's right in front of me. I am so sorry. I don't deserve your forgiveness b-"

"James Buchanan Barnes. Shut the fuck up." Steve snapped. "You may feel like you don't deserve my forgiveness but you will accept it because I love you. I love you and Y/n so much it hurts. It's like a stabbing feeling in my chest when one or both of you is gone. Now can we please go get fucking Y/n so I can breathe again?"

"Yes," Bucky hung his head low. Steve had never snapped at him before. Steve was always patient but I guess everyone deals with grief differently.

The car ride to the house you were at was quiet and tension-filled. The plan was simple extract you and hope you hadn't succumbed to whatever torture HYDRA put you through.

Thankfully when the two of them and the extra men they brought got to the house it was very unguarded. There were about 3 guards in front. The two men were almost over-prepared. It was 3 to 1. So while their men dealt with HYDRA's they ran into the house in the hopes of finding you.

To both men's surprise, they couldn't find you. That's when they both felt the barrel of a gun on the back of their necks. "Make a move or sound and I'll kill you both where you stand."

It was a voice they recognized. It wasn't your much too gruff to be yours. That's when it clicked. It was Dean Dagget. A man they had recently hired to watch the house. He had defected from his old mob on the west coast. He had fed them some lie about how his mob running a sex/ human trafficking ring and hun wanting out of that life. Now Bucky and Steve although mob bosses were honest men. They didn't deal in the buying selling or trading of humans so they took him at his word.

They both knew they could overpower him but they needed you so they put up their hands. "Where is Y/n?" Bucky spoke calmly.

"No need to worry they're safe now that they're out of this little throuple. Honestly, it's disgusting. Are they that big of a whore that one man isn't enough for them?" Hearing the sound of a gun cocking.

That ticked both of them off. Nobody was to disrespect you like that. Before they could turn around the guns dropped for their heads and clattered to the floor along with a heavy thud that they assumed was a body. Turning around they were met with you. Your eyes that were once so bright dimmed and glazed over. You met their eyes and they swore they lighten just a bit.

"Y/n!" Steve exclaimed.

"Save the reunion for later come on we need to leave before he wakes up," you were cold now. The way you just brushed Steve off frightened Bucky.

So they grabbed the man and drug him out to the cars. Pushing him off in another car. Leaving Sam and Clint to deal with. "When we get back out him in the warehouse," Steve ordered.

"Yes boss," Cling stood at attention.

Sam caught sight of you. "Y/n. Hey, gorgeous how are you? Been worried about you," Sam held his arms out for you to hug him. Yet you brushed him off as well preferring to walk to the car. That scared the boys. You would never brush off Sam you loved him too much.

<~>

Your boys had come and saved you as you hoped they would but they weren't your boys not anymore. When you got into the car Steve and Bucky weren't far behind.

"Hey, doll are you ok?" Bucky asked lowering his stoic demeanor.

"Perfect, just want to go home," your response was harsh but you truly just wanted to get back to your apartment.

"Ok, Peter back to the mansion," Steve said.

You gave Steve a strange look. Of course, you still classified the house Steve Bucky and you shared once home you figured when you left they would've found someone else to share that lovely home with.

"I thought we were heading home?" You questioned.

"We are. Unless you no longer classify the mansion as home because if not we can head back to your apartment to be fair it is still trashed from when you were taken." Bucky explained looking down and began biting his bottom lip. A nervous habit he picked up.

"Well, what would the other person living there say if you brought your ex around?" You looked down scared to show your jealousy.

"What do you mean other person sweetheart?" Steve inquired.

"Well, you know the person you moved onto after me of course," still looking down you said.

"Doll there's no one else. There will never be anyone else. You and Steve are it for me," Bucky confessed.

"Same here sweetheart you and Buck are it for me. I can't imagine my life without the two of you." Steve also confessed.

"Then why were you so distant before I left- before I was kidnapped?" You asked tears filling your eyes.

"We uh-" Bucky's smooth words failing him.

"Listen sweetheart we- uh we were out looking for the perfect ring for you," Steve coming to his aid.

"What do you mean ring?" Looking up now at the men sat before you.

"We- Well you see doll before you left we were planning on proposing and I know I still am planning on it but I forgot the ring at home like an idiot," Bucky cursed himself.

"Hey, hey your not an idiot. If so then that makes two of us because I forgot mine as well." Steve countered.

"What?" You were stunned here you thought that they were stepping out on you yet they were actually getting ready to propose to you. Fuck how could you be so stupid? You let the tears slip.

"Hey no need to cry my love," Steve cooed raising a hand to wipe the tears but you flinched. "Hey what was that for?" Steve asked softly.

"S-sorry," you stuttered out waiting for the blow that came for flinching.

"He-" Steve began to say.

"I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch," Buck raised his voice making you flinch and curl in on yourself.

"Buck," Steve scolded seeing you cowering in on yourself more. "We aren't him honey," tears gathered in your eyes at the pet name. It was now ruined for you.

"Y/n, doll, you have to talk to us. What did he do to you?" Bucky spoke softly and sweetly.

"He- he would call me honey or darling say that he loved me. When he would get mad, he would hit me or call me a whore for wanting two guys. He- he would say that you only wanted me as a fuck toy. And then at night, he would- he would tie me up to the bed and do with what he pleased saying over and over that this is what a good spouse does sits there and takes what their husband gives them. And that- that I should be grateful for him. That he was the best I was ever gonna get. He broke me," you sobbed wanting to be held by the men in front of you.

That was the last straw. They went to comfort you and you allowed them. Allowed them to hold you as you shook with your tears. Both men shared a look they knew what they had to do.

<~>

When they pulled up to the mansion, you stopped crying and Dean was dragged to the warehouse outback to be dealt with by the boys later.

"I think I'm going to head to the bathroom then to the guest room. If you guys don't mind I don't want to drive back to my apartment tonight."

"If you want you can sleep in our room. Buck and I'll take the guest bedroom." Steve offered.

"No no I don't want to put you guys out I'll sleep in the guest room."

"I mean if you want we could all stay in the same room? That way no one is put out. Besides, there is more than enough room in the bed," Bucky offered up.

"Sure if you guys are fine with it." You replied.

"Why wouldn't we be doll? We love you," Bucky said earnestly.

"Thanks, I see you up there I guess?" You said as of asking a question.

"We'll be up in a little bit sweetheart we just have to deal with something first and we'll be up there in a bit just have to do something first," Steve spoke sweetly coming close to kiss your cheek then retracted thinking better of it.

"Don't be too long please." You pleaded.

"We'll be back before you know it," Bucky as well went to kiss you but retracted as well.

<~>

After watching you walk up the stairs and turn down the hallway towards the bedroom, they turned and headed for the warehouse.

Furious was the only thing that could be seen on both men's faces as they walked into the warehouse to see Dean already tied to a metal chair. With a bunch of tools laid out on the table beside him. By the looks of it, he had already regained consciousness. He had a smug smirk on his face. Bucky wanted to punch him square in the face for what he did to Y/n.

"You are a sick bastard y'know?" Bucky seethed.

"Not as sick as you," Dean spat back. That's when Bucky landed his first punch. Straight to the jaw. "That all you can do Barnes?" He teased.

"That's not even the half of it," he went to hit him again but was held back by Steve. He had a pair of needle-nosed pliers he began pulling out his finger and toenails. Dean screamed in pain. Bucky went over to the table and grabbed a pair of vice grip pliers. Once Steve was done pulling out his nails Bucky started with the teeth.

"You are pathetic. Absolutely pathetic you can't take this small amount of pain. Squealing like a pig. You will never touch another human again." Steve's eyes were cold and dead. Once Bucky was done pulling his teeth out Steve took out his gun and shot him point-blank in the head.

He cleaned most of Dean's blood off him while Bucky did the same and began walking back to the main house.

"Get this mess cleaned up and throw him in one of the landfills we own," Bucky ordered.

"Shouldn't we dump him in the river boss," one of the men questioned.

Bucky sent him a steely-eyed glare. If looks could kill he be six feet under. "He doesn't deserve a water burial for the way he treated Y/n and you will do as I say or you will end up missin'," that Bucky turned and caught up to Steve.

<~>

When the men got back to the house you were curled up under the covers. Quietly they snuck into the bedroom and went to the bathroom to shower and clean themselves up a bit before sliding into bed with you.

<~>

The next morning you awoke alone in the room. You started panicking thinking you were back in the house with Dean when Bucky and Steve walked in carrying in breakfast for you. French toast and waffles stacked on top of each other so much syrup and whipped cream you swear you'd get a cavity. Although the thought was nice it didn't stop the panic attack that was surfacing.

Bucky immediately took notice of the signs and began calming you. "Doll what are 5 things you can touch?"

"The bed, you, the pillow, the food, my clothes, and the bedside table" slowly calming down you answered.

"Good, good. Now, what are 4 things you can see?" Bucky asked again still trying to ground you.

"You, Steve, the breakfast you guys made, and the bed," your breathing hadn't gone completely back to normal but it was slowly slowing down and returning to normal.

"Good job you're doing such a great job doll. What are three things you can hear?"

"You, my own voice, and the birds outside."

"Great job. Two emotions you feel?"

"Safe and loved," you answered confidently.

"Wonderful. Now, what's one thing you can taste?"

"Is it weird if I say salt?" you joked a bit.

"Not at all. You're ok safe. He will never hurt you ever again I promise you," Bucky promised. Reaching forward to hug you. Steve also came and hugged you. At that moment nothing else mattered you were home with your boys and you were safe loved and protected.

They pulled away and handed you the plate of food. You began happily eating. Sipping on the coffee they had brought as well. "Thank you guys so much. I'm sorry I left I should've talked to you before I ran. I thought you guys didn't want me anymore. I'm sorry," you let the tears you had been holding back fall.

"Sweetheart it's ok as long as you don't run away again. Please don't I was torn apart Bucky was torn apart we both love you so much. We can't imagine life without you," Steve pleaded you could see the desperation in his eyes.

You promised you would never leave them again. For the rest of the day that pampered you. Anything you wanted they got for you. If you asked for ice cream "you got it doll," wanting to watch that new show on Diseny+ "Whatever you want sweetheart," just some good old cuddles "No problem we love giving you cuddles,". You almost felt bad by the end of the day you ended up back in the bed asking if they wanted anything in return. They had gone nearly a month without being intimate. Which shocked you thought surely they would've been intimate together but no they promised you so in return all they wanted was to feel close to you again which you gladly let them.

<~>

It had been around a month since you had gotten back they still pampered and treated you like royalty when they decided to take you out on their bikes to a little spot they found in the forest for a picnic. The boys were chasing you through the fields when they caught up to you and tackled you carefully to the ground. As you were getting up you noticed the two little black felt boxes that fell out of their pockets and picked them up.

Each box contained a ring. A circle of vibrainum engraved with a heart when put together. Both men lunged for the boxes in your hand knocking them out and spilling the rings out onto the ground.

"Shit!" Bucky quickly knelt to the ground trying to find the rings while Steve also helps look. You had also gotten down to help.

"This wasn't the way we wanted to ask you," Steve confessed furiously looking for the rings.

"Doesn't matter what way you ask my answer doesn't change. I love both of you so much," continuing to look for the rings you responded.

"I still want to ask you properly," Bucky perked up as he found them giving steve one half while he held the other. "So Y/n Y/l/n will you do us the honor and change your last name to Barnes-Rogers for the rest of your life?"

"I'll have to think about it," you pretended to think about it for maybe 20 seconds before responding. "Yes of course you idiots. Don't need to think about it you saved me. As long as you promise to love me for the rest of your lives deal?" you held out your hand to shake. Bucky just pushed it away and kissed you.

"Deal."

It was now Steve's turn to kiss you "Deal."

Then they looked to each "You marrying me as well punk?" Bucky asked.

"Of course jerk," Steve responded as they too kissed each other.

They each took a turn to put on your ring on your finger matching the heart up then pulling out another small box and put rings on each other.

You looked between them then took off running towards the picnic basket yelling over your shoulder, "Whoever catches me gets me on the ride back."

Laughing at each other they both darted towards you and at that moment they both had a pure and genuine smile across their faces. Both are happy to have you back in their arms. They would always love you no matter what. No matter how my obstacles life threw at you would be with them 'til the end of the line.

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the-nysh · 2 years ago

Note

Garou is the ying, the good within "absolute evil" and Saitama is the yang, the darkness hiding in his heroism

Where the current 'light' of Garou's humanity is being forcibly warped and swallowed up by the darkness of an absolute evil, external cosmic entity, while the lingering faith and light of Saitama's heroism is at risk of being swallowed by the darkness of his own inner, unresolved personal demons too.

The theme of light/dark (yin & yang) balance encompassing the imperfectness of human nature is a classic one - and it's why I really liked the design of Spiral Garou, cause it symbolically felt like a balanced swirl of those two forces that's beyond the simple dichotomy/binary of 'good & evil.'

Now however, as things were set up, Garou's inherent light/goodness was otherwise too pure (in Psykos' words) that he had to be forcibly inserted and corrupted by an absolute evil that's Not His, to morally push him over the edge (to the extremes way past over 11) that he couldn't possibly, and never willingly wanted to, cross on his own. Where now he doesn't even have a choice, is misled to believe how much 'freedom' he still has, and doesn't even know how much of his usual 'evil' performance is being played/enacted for real. D:

Rather than balancing or overcoming his own personal darkness/demons/emotions from within, into a fully-realized whole where he's ideally at peace and acceptance with himself (like Mob's ???%), it's become more a case of the opposite - of Garou coming to find/accept the inner light he couldn't believe within himself. (That had always been one of his biggest/defining strengths all along~) Buried underneath all the external/outer layers of darkness. Where it's now, how can his true self even be saved/salvaged or endure to break free from the oppressive hand of an absolute higher, darkest power. D: (Where damn, the lingering/trapped/dormant power of Garou's original humanity is up to survive against, or be crushed under, the might of two 'gods' - the control of opm's evil monster god and the wrath of Saitama himself. Holy shiiieetttttt ;o; Now those bastardized unfair odds seem far too inhumanly possible to survive against, BUT if the real Garou can Still endure and find himself despite all that...then that'd show an incredible amount of strength previously unforeseen before.) Edit (as of ch168): opm’s evil god confiscated him and the Garou of this timeline had to die, but not before his awakened self (trigger: Tareo’s death) resolved to defy him and heroically sacrifice himself to fix the world~

MEANWHILE, in Saitama's case, the 'status quo' it seems many fanboys are struggling against seeing it broken was believing how much of his outer light, goodness, and heroic values were seen 'absolute' as a perfect, iconic representation of a hero. When that's absolutely not the case; Saitama's always been an imperfect (aka not the greatest) hero and a fallible human. Who casually performs as a hobby, makes careless mistakes, has darker self-absorbed (asshole) thoughts/actions sometimes too, and has passionate bursts of emotion that are stronger than his usual limits of self-control, which break even his own understanding of how much he believes he can still feel too. Which is what we're seeing now. The scary thing is just...when he's hurt and snaps to the point he loses faith in himself (in his light/heroism), that his inner darkness threatens to break his established goodness and the world itself - it's just aaaa, what can possibly stop him when he naturally holds the godlike power to destroy Everything. If he ever loses that last grip on himself and his humanity. :') (When it's likely not his own values keeping him tethered anymore - it's the symbolic grip and lingering connection he has to Genos' core. ;o;)

So if we simplify their parallel but opposite struggles into their base essentials, then yes, Garou's is currently how to find/salvage his inner light from being swallowed/crushed by an external absolute darkness, and Saitama's is the scary possibility of his inner darkness threatening to completely break his outer, established goodness (and destroy everything else). D: Where it's basically become two forces of godlike 'darkness' threatening to destroy Garou's lingering light. Amazing if his humanity and inner goodness can still pull thru this. Unless he can still break free from the control of god's darkness, Saitama's darkness/wrath is tempered, or Saitama's own good heroic values still hold firm - without giving in to the void what that evil god probably wants him to do, by breaking the humanity of them both. In a clash or stalemate of cosmic forces like THAT, it's unknown which element will be stopped first from spiraling out of control, or even how both characters' (human/heroic) light will prevail or stabilize. But if either one is snuffed out for good, then destroying that overall balance will be not good indeed.

#opm #garou #saitama #manga spoilers #anonymous #replies #meta #garou's inner light is stronger than many fans (and even himself) believe #while saitama is far more imperfect and human than many fans (and even himself) believe too #(now if only they can find mutual balance/understanding by being bros instead of destroying each other aha yea)

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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 2 years ago

Text

Running on Empty

(Trigger Warnings: descriptions of hunger pangs/cravings, cramped/crowded space, mentions of eating, cannibalism, talk of murder, implications of illegal business, implied death/murder, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

(My beloved scrungly EgoPat is back, and this time, we get to see his cravings in action. This little drabble was inspired by one lovely Knife Anon, who has worked wonders for my validation. If you want to learn more about Caliban, go here. If you’d like to learn more about the mob he and Murdock work for, go here. Murdock/Murderplier belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe, but if you’re interested in my personal headcanons on him, go here. And, last but certainly not least, to learn more about R.D., go here.)

Somewhere among the Cove Port Inlets, a cannibal was trapped in a department store.

Well, not literally, but he certainly felt trapped. The elevator car he was currently riding in would’ve been cramped even without all the other people he was having to share the space with.

Most would assume that cannibals and crowded areas didn’t mix well together, and for the most part, they’d be right.

But in Caliban’s case, that normally wasn’t too much of a problem.

Caliban prided himself on being responsible. The authorities around here were generally pretty useless, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be careful with his habits. He’d organized a whole agenda just to keep his cravings in check. He typically didn’t have to worry about his urges unless he knew it was safe to give in to them.

That was actually why he and Murdock had started working together so long ago; too many disappearances happening in short succession of one another would cause suspicion in the community. Therefore, the hitman also had a schedule to stick to, which perfectly aligned with the cannibal’s meal-planning.

Or, at least, it USUALLY did.

Murdock had contacted him earlier, had promised to deliver a dead body in a few hours. That delivery was the reason Caliban had made this shopping trip in the first place. He’d been running low on some of his favorite herbs and spices, and he’d been eager to use them. He’d been excitedly waiting to make some deviled spleen with a side of simmered tongue (he’d also entertained the idea of putting all other edible organs into a stew for later).

But NOOOOOOOO, no, no, no! It just COULDN’T be that easy!

Caliban grimaced at his cellphone, at the most recent exchange of his and Murdock’s encrypted messages.

So, I’ve got some bad news, Murdock had texted while Caliban had been paying for his new seasonings.

What, did you have to use a last-minute explosive on the target? Caliban had responded. If so, just bring some of the least-charred pieces. You know I’m not too picky.

Murdock had replied, No, I couldn’t have afforded to do something like that. And even if you were a picky eater, it wouldn’t matter.

Caliban asked, What’s that supposed to mean? He hadn’t gotten an immediate response, so after leaving the kitchen supply area, he’d tried again: Doc? What exactly are you saying right now?

A few more moments of silence passed after that, but by then, Caliban had finally connected the dots. (It’d only taken him so long because he didn’t want what he’d predicted to be true.)

You let the target get away, didn’t you? He’d eventually inquired. And boy howdy, did that get a quick reply.

I didn’t LET him get away! Due to the lack of things like facial expression and body language, reading someone’s emotions via text was usually pretty difficult. Not in this case, since Murdock took great pride in his work. Either the informants got something wrong in their analysis, or every potential witness in a hundred mile radius just randomly decided to come out of the fucking woodwork. Whichever the case, it’s not MY fault that the asshole’s still alive!

Something tells me you’re still gonna drink from that special mug, Caliban had texted, thinking of Murdock’s favorite coffee cup, which proclaimed IT’S ONLY MURDER IF THEY FIND A BODY—OTHERWISE IT’S JUST A MISSING PERSON in a bold, bright red font. Good job getting my hopes up.

Look, you’re not the only person losing out because of this. I’M gonna have to get reprimanded sooner or later. YOU are just gonna have to be a little more patient for once.

“For once,” huh? This wasn’t the first time Murdock had failed to kill a target. Granted, the other times were few and far between. Plus, Caliban’s frustration had been a bit easier to deal with since his accomplice hadn’t decided to just wait until the last minute to let him know.

It seemed like today really was just one of those days.

I’ve already got a couple more hits lined up. You’ll be getting some new grub in a month or so. Think about that before you complain next time. It was evident that Murdock had been trying to calm himself. You couldn’t be a killer-for-hire if you couldn’t keep an even head on your shoulders. (That was one of the stranger aspects of this line of work.) In other words: BITE ME.

The hasty addition of “figuratively” never came. So, Caliban had decided to be cheeky. Is that a challenge?

Murdock was strong and an experienced fighter, but the fact that Caliban worked more on the body-disposal side of the spectrum nowadays did not mean he was a stranger to violence. The former still had scars on his knuckles from his and the latter’s very first altercation.

(Murdock had decked Caliban in the face, but he’d obviously never fought someone who would respond to being punched by grabbing hold of their assailant’s wrist and chomping down on said assailant’s hand. Just like how Caliban had never bitten into someone whose blood had a kick so similar to cinnamon. . .or capsaicin, maybe.)

That message remained unanswered. Murdock had been infuriatingly prudent enough to disable the Read receipts that would’ve come with his text messages.

Caliban stuffed his phone into his pocket, trying to back even further into the corner he’d already claimed.

His head told him that Murdock was an accomplished killer; it was highly unlikely that he’d lose his future target. Nobody was perfect, and that definitely applied to murderers.

His stomach argued that Murdock was an irresponsible moron and it was his fault that the rest of Caliban’s day was now going to suck.

All in all, there were pretty good points on either side of the coin.

Caliban pursed his lips as a rumbling, pinching, gnawing sensation manifested in the pit of his belly. His shoulders slumped as his frustration invited some good ol’ fashioned dread to keep it company.

Oh, right. The urges. . .

Caliban took a deep breath and reminded himself that a single corpse was still a practical treasure-trove of flesh and organs. And since it didn’t take an Einstein to properly store meat, Caliban’s pantry was never empty. Even though the fresh-is-always-best rule applied to more than just seafood.

He had some human remains at home.

He could still appease his appetite without Murdock’s help.

He just. Had to. Get out. Of this. Damn. Elevator.

Since he couldn’t afford to stare at the people he was trapped with, Caliban found himself gazing at the little signs adorning the space around the elevator’s door and buttons. The most prominent of these signs displayed a simple drawing of a stick-figure walking down a staircase, with a bright orange flame at the top of the stairs.

In spite of his frustration, Caliban raised an eyebrow at this. People seriously still didn’t know how dangerous it was to use an elevator in the event of a fire?

He thought of how easily the ventilation shaft would go through the Chimney Effect, thought of how quickly the metal framework of the car would heat up. Thought of how smoke could make meat more tender via breaking down the collagen inside. . .thought of how the color of flesh would shift from bright pinkish-red to differing shades of brown the longer it roasted. . .thought of how fat would eventually liquify as more heat was applied—

GgglRRRRkkkk…

The sound instantly snapped Caliban back into reality. That, and the feeling of something warm around his mouth that definitely hadn’t been there before. Blinking, Caliban realized that his face had subconsciously shifted into an open smile. This, in turn, had allowed a few drops of saliva to escape his lips. He could practically feel the blood rushing under his skin as he raised a hand to wipe at his mouth with his thumb.

The initial disappointment Caliban had felt was mostly gone (although stress, impatience, and some mild-but-kind-of-quickly-growing panic had taken its place, which wasn��t a very positive development). But Caliban’s stomach didn’t really know how to give a damn about that. What it did know how to do was to make itself seem to be squirming of its own accord inside Caliban’s abdomen.

Which didn’t feel pleasant. At all.

He didn’t dare look at the elevator’s other passengers, despite knowing that a few had definitely turned their heads to glance at him. What did they expect him to do? Apologize? For something that he had no control over? Were these really the types who got offended whenever they saw another person in discomfort?

Of course they were. Hell, they probably didn’t even know what discomfort actually felt like. Caliban hadn’t needed much time to analyze their clothing, their demeanors, their freshly-purchased goods. Even if he hadn’t been so skilled in observation, it would’ve been easy to guess that the people he was trapped with were the fortunate kind.

They probably led happy little stress-free lives, probably ate more than three multiple-course meals a day. They likely hadn’t grown up with the constant threat of food being withheld from them. They could be categorized under the human equivalent of Free-Range.

GwwwuuuOOOOOORRRBL. . .

Caliban could’ve sworn his intestines had just twitched. He closed his eyes and sighed through his nose. He chewed at the inside of his cheek; his teeth felt just a tad too sharp.

He didn’t even know the person responsible for this building’s architecture—for the idiotic amount of time this elevator apparently took for each trip—and he still desperately wanted to butcher them and caramelize their kidneys.

___

After what sincerely felt like a few days since he’d finally gotten out of the department store, Caliban parked by one of many curbs in the downtown area. He was shaking as he exited his car and headed for the entrance to his house.

His hunger had been steadily getting worse and worse for the duration of the drive (because why the hell would it have gotten better?).

The very millisecond the front door was securely closed and locked behind him, Caliban’s facade got the hell out of Dodge. He sprinted across the house to the hidden door in his closet, and it was a legitimate miracle that he didn’t trip on his way down the passageway to his subway tunnel security office turned macabre kitchen/dining room combo.

He ripped the refrigerator open, and there it was: a portion of flesh he’d sliced from the thigh of Murdock’s latest target, hanging from a small meat hook he’d attached to the top shelf.

This particular appetizer had already been cured—he’d put it through both a dry rub and a few brine injections—and hanging was a great way to improve the flavor via letting natural enzymes break down the tissues.

It was a good thing Caliban always had the foresight to prepare his food ahead of time, because right now he was at the point where it wouldn’t have mattered if the meat was raw or not. The only thing that mattered was that. He. ATE.

Caliban wrenched the morsel off, leaving the meat hook to sway to and fro as he leaned against the wall, opened wide, and sank his teeth into the flesh.

MRGH-GRK

The meat was, unsurprisingly, cold. It had the expected metallic tang, but the texture was a bit more serumy than it probably should’ve been. The umami was there, but it definitely would’ve been better if the muscle had spent some time in a broiling pan.

But Caliban wasn’t in the mind to care about that.

He shook his head from side to side as he tore a chunk free.

HRUCKH-HKUNGH

He chewed furiously—the meat was tender in a way that managed to be wrong and so damn delicious at the same time. He could barely even feel how liquid dribbled out of his maw and down his chin. The first bite felt heavy in his throat, seeming to linger. Somehow, Caliban didn’t notice. He continued to rip the muscle apart, his pulse ringing in his ears all the while.

There was nothing but flavor and greed and impatience and joy.

He wasn’t sure how long it really took, but after what seemed like just a meager thirty seconds, half of the meat was gone. He wasn’t completely satisfied, of course, but his stomach wasn’t aching or growling anymore; instead, it was concentrating on what he’d just devoured. For the first time all day, he finally, finally felt comfortable. Relieved.

“Afternoon snack, Cal?” A familiar voice called from across the room.

Caliban flinched, then slowly turned his head to discover R.D., who was standing at the foot of the hidden staircase with her arms crossed. She tilted her head at him, her expression a mixture of understanding, concern, and amusement.

“I guess,” Caliban sighed. “Although you could probably call it stress-eating, too.”

R.D. wandered closer, nodding. “Probably.”

She fished her phone out of her pocket and tapped at the screen, then held it for her husband to see. She’d set her camera to self-portrait mode, which gave Caliban a perfect view of the dark red smudges splattered around his lips and cheeks, with even more running down his chin. A few spots marred the dark blue fabric of his button-down’s collar.

Caliban offered a sheepish smile in response, showing off his red-tinged teeth, his silver canine-cap gleaming. He walked over to the block kitchen island, grabbing a napkin from one of the drawers and cleaning up his face.

“You could’ve texted me on your way back,” R.D. said softly. “I could’ve prepared that for you; then you would’ve enjoyed it a bit more.”

Caliban shook his head. “I’m not going to disrupt your focus when I should’ve just been smart enough to eat something before I left. Your projects are more important.”

(She may not have been wearing any of her protective gear, but he knew full well that it hadn’t been long since she’d returned from the hidden-in-plain-sight laboratory of a warehouse on the other side of town.)

R.D. pursed her lips at this. “I didn’t have very much stuff lined up for today. Just some organization and a few basic chemical tests.”

“Still would’ve been inconvenient for you to rush back home because of me.” Caliban brought out a cutting board and his beloved cleaver, quickly chopping up his half-eaten morsel into several pieces. He then grinned. “Besides, haven’t you said that you need to keep at least five feet away from me when I eat?”

“I only say that when you decide to throw manners out the window,” R.D. chuckled, pointedly closing the refrigerator door, which Caliban had, admittedly, left open up until now. She opened a compartment beneath the oven, producing one of the smaller pans and setting it on the stove. “But seriously, you’ve already pulled strings to help me out when you didn’t have to; I might as well return the favor sometime. I’m honestly kind of shocked that you haven’t started holding that over my head by now.”

“That’s because I’m a humanitarian,” Caliban responded as he held the board above the pan to push the chunks of meat down onto its sizzling surface, laughing at how R.D. groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Aaaaaannd I regret this already,” R.D. muttered, though she still smiled when Caliban put the cleaver and board down in order to gently hug her from behind, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Oh, c’mon!” Caliban jokingly pouted. “I thought that one was pretty tasteful!”

“Snare is worried about you,” R.D. announced. “He’s been pacing around the hutch nonstop since you got back.”

Caliban froze, then raced up the stairs to go check on his pet.

@that-bat @sammys-magical-au @the-matpat-ever @neons-trash-blog @insane4fandoms @ayoreneehere @anxious-ace @dleep-deprivation-idk-jelp @overemotional-cactus @congratscat @annoyeddeadartist @butterboyfly @i-dont-like-it-here-please-help @echoing-night @goopiguess @akladyathena @xyzkiss @bispaceace @alexpangender @this1person @4b-eraserlee @jadefrompluto @alexthen3rd @destinys-dreamer @cmaniac123 @sw33tst4rs

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bonky-n-steeb · 4 years ago

Text

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

#chris evans #sebastian stan #mcu #marvel #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #mob!steve #dark!bucky #mob!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years ago

Text

Worth The Eternity: Dark! Bucky x Reader (Vampire AU + Mob AU + Soulmate AU)

This is for @cherienymphe’s 5K Twilight Renaissance Writing Challenge. Congratulations, keep slaying! I wrote this instead of studying, so pray for my paper please lmao.

A/N: This tired girl tried.

WARNINGS: something between dubcon and noncon present. Triggering, darkish themes.

Summary of sorts: Ever seen Hotel Transylvania 1/2/3? In this AU, mythical creatures exist and have soulmates and you feel a zing if you are blessed enough to encounter them.

"Boss, we narrowed it down to these core three suspects.” A husky voice, slightly muffled by the sack on your head, entered your ears and you had a hard time being calm.

You had been picked up from your office, specifically the basement of Oscorp Industries while entering your sleek silver car. A pinch in your neck and everything comically blurred. Next thing you know, you are waking up with your entire body sore, your muscles and joints screaming and begging for freedom from tight restraints. Your vision is black, as if you are staring into an abyss and your vision is filled with white and red dancing spots forming patterns, maybe from the hours of inactivity.

Muffled noises of protest and scraping of metal against the concrete floor entered your ears and you realized you are not the only one here held captive. You racked your mind for possible explanations but couldn’t come up with one.

You lived a very simple life, even as the vice president of Oscorp industries. No messing around, no rivalries with other employees, no butting heads with the seniors on the Director’s board. Was this a ploy against the company? Or a domination statement against the weaker species, the humans?

Lucky enough for you, you realized you would soon find out as the sound of a shutter opening and metal clanking noisily filled your ears.

“Took you long enough, Scott. Fill me in.” Another brooding voice reprimanded jokingly and a million goosebumps traveled the path of your skin as you involuntarily shuddered.

“Yes Boss. We tracked the missing sum to the account of this man on the left. He has fourteen other accounts under different names and nationalities, pretty hard to trace but not impossible luckily. This proved he is shady so he’s most definitely involved.”

“This ginger on the right, he made the suspicious call with weird words so we believe he pretty much passed the verdict, calling the shots with the codewords. He has had several surgeries, his face is fucking silicon at this point but his DNA showed us his true identity, Mr. Rumlow here is the Consigliere of The Midnight Moon.”

You sat and listened, piecing together whatever you understood. The pack/mob name more than rung a bell, it scared you shitless. You were quick to catch on, realising that you were caught in an inter species scruffle.

“This shit just got interesting folks. Alright, where does Miss Sexy Legs fit in all this?”

The pencil skirt you wore wasn’t the most modest piece of clothing to exist and the spaghetti straps blouse was a bad choice considering the sheer coldness in this warehouse, the temperature only seemed to go down with the entry of your kidnappers but it’s not like you knew this was going to happen.

You could only assume with your legs on display that you were the one being sexualised and talked about.

“We are not sure about her though, that’s why I said suspects. We have proof the call was made from her phone but the videos show her lending it to a creepy stranger at a café. It might be really good acting but it’s highly unlikely. We brought her in because in the transfer of the stolen cash, her account was an intermediary but it’s a good chance that she was tricked when her phone was borrowed by Mr. Rumlow. Also, she’s a human, you see?”

If it was you being talked about, you felt a jot of relief, just a smudge because at least they were aware you weren’t involved in whatever game they were playing. That didn’t necessarily ensure your freedom, but hey, you were willing to take anything at that point.

“That’s the sweet fucking scent I keep on smelling!” The leader exclaimed as if he made a great discovery, a cure for a pandemic or cancer you’d think. His gruff voice almost had a light, cheery undertone to it, too unlike of a man who was wronged and cheated and was close to murdering someone no doubt. These mobsters are always maniacs like The Joker.

“It sucks that you brought her here. She might not be guilty, but now she knows too much. She’d make a good blood bag though. Maybe I’ll just have a taste, who knows?” The ‘boss’ made a disturbing slurping noise and your heart stopped at his words, a tear almost escaping your eye.

Discussion about drinking blood? You were most definitely in The Vamps territory, your assumption about the inter-species conflict true. You had no doubt you were the weakest in this creepy space, the frailest here, most probably the only human.

“Show me the bastards’ faces.” Like the flip of a switch, the joking man swapped his personality and all but growled. You heard the ripping of cloth and a man gagging, his shrieks muffled. Another flurry of movements and another man retching on the fabric could be heard.

“Well, hello Mr. Rumlow. I must say, brown suited you better.” A horde of chuckles made you widen your eyes, even though only black still filled your vision, as you realised there were at least a dozen twisted, sick men in the room. The fact that they were silent as fuck till now only showed you how disciplined and regimented these soldiers were.

“This one has a pretty face, boss.” You felt the sack ripped off you, and your eyes closed with the sudden flooding of the lights. Your eyes sealed due to hours of inactivity and you kept them shut, afraid to face your tormenter.

A cold hand cupped your cheek and straightened your face that was trying to hide itself in your silky locks by curling in your own neck, the cool metal of rings and insanely icy fingers chilling you literally.

“Open your eyes sweetheart.” A voice called out behind you and you gathered enough courage to face your impending doom, the air as silent as the calm before a storm.

Your orbs opened and gazed into piercing sapphire blue eyes and everything behind this chiseled face blurred. You could swear a ring of pink and red passed over his eyes and you shuddered again, getting overwhelmed due to the eye contact yourself. This wasn’t the usual anxiety you felt while meeting new people, it was somehow both a pull and a push. An inviting comforting pull and a terrifying, ‘stay cautious' push.

You, a self-sufficient woman, who had been independent for as long as you could remember, suddenly felt half; incomplete in a way that you couldn’t fathom. You felt an attraction, a tug towards the man in front of you, and the absurdity of the thoughts and emotions that popped in your brain made you heave on the gag.

Your intellect couldn’t find a reason, your view on love and romance until now completely conflicted. You believed soulmates to be separate pieces of art that complemented each other when together; then what was this broken jigsaw puzzle sentiment you were having now?

Your wide eyes somehow managed to break free of his stare, panicking and looking around to observe, which wasn’t comforting in the least as men with guns and gadgets filled your vision. You were relatively unharmed in comparison to the beaten lads beside you, one with a bruised face and the other with a bloody one.

The handsome man, the Boss’s stare didn’t leave you through the entirety of your searching around, you were sure they saw you as a scared little rabbit, waiting out its inevitable death.

“Lost in her eyes, Boss?” The sideman cracked what he believed to be the funniest joke in existence, earning laughs of the horde of the soldiers around.

Your eyes went to the Boss’s face, surprisingly when his left your face to glare a nasty stare on his trusted man. His muscular form raised the forelimb, his hand signaling to stop, that effectively quietened the room to a pin drop silence.

With gentle fingers, the man took off your gag and yours lips quivered, throat too dry to make a noise though. You greedily gulped the air through your mouth for whatever reason, maybe just to move your jaw after hours of inactivity.

Maintaining eye contact was challenging, arduous to say the least. It seemed as if he could read you, find everything about you there is to find by studying the flecks in your orbs. His delicate hands, loosened the ties and you were now more so confused, along with the trepidation.

Just what the fuck was going on?

Bucky had almost lost hope, centuries on this planet and no one to love and cherish, no personal confidante, no soulmate. But good things take time, right? And in his opinion, best things take an eternity. He knows this now.

Expect the unexpected was the truest phrase, idiom whatever it was, in this moment. He had spent countless nights wondering about his soulmate, was she pretty? Ugly? Was she even a she or not? Dumb or witty? He made a lot of scenarios of how they’d meet, the kids, reigning together. He entertained the idea of her being from a different species, a nymph, an orc, maybe a werewolf?

And now that he found her, it was a revelation, a surprise honestly. After all optimism got evaporated, after traveling the dark tunnel for centuries literally, there she was, his beacon of light. Finding her was a wonder, and her being a human was astonishing, a possibility he somehow failed to consider, but he was over the moon cause there she was, right in front of him now. A beautiful, stunning lady in flesh and blood, human flesh and blood, with the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. His zing.

He always liked humans, apart from the similar appearances the vampires shared with them, they were always docile and accommodating. In the last few millenniums, after the mythical creatures showed themselves to the world, the humans understood their place and tier pretty early.

They were smart to surrender and be peaceful as all the species came to light, clever to know that even with less numbers they could be overpowered and bloodshed was detrimental to all involved.

He knew he would convert you soon though, your lifespan far too short for his liking, and obviously, now that he found you, you were to rule together. For Centuries.

His happiness was over taken by the realisation that you were not in the most hospitable settings, you were tied and strapped, being preyed on by his men. He made quick work of the restraints, allowing you to breathe by loosening them first. Your scared, trembling form plucked his unbeating heart’s strings, but strangely enough, his brain found amusement and he felt smug. Seeing you tied up and trembling was definitely a turn on for him, noted.

After commanding his foolish men to stop giggling, he leaned closer to you, your aura comforting and intoxicating as he smelled your hair. A divine scent, an addictive one for sure. The goosebumps on your skin confirmed the reciprocation of his connection.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you.” His husky voice, calming but imposing resonated in your ears, his hand tapping your cheek on the other side. Even though the private statement was whispered for you, the deafening silence made every person witness it.

He leaned back, his hands behind his back as he grinned, tone again light like earlier and commanded, “Get her out of here and cleaned up, tell Nat and Wanda, they’ll know what I mean. Then we’ll deal with these guys here, after the lady leaves of course. No scratch on her from this point forward or you’ll lose a limb. Proceed.”

All three of you, the hostages were going to get ‘taken care of’ but in different ways.

It had been over twenty hours for sure, you were abducted in the early hours of the morning and now the moon was out again, like one endless night. You remember being escorted to a sleek black car; your limbs ached but you managed to keep up. You tried to keep up with the car’s turns, trying to memorize the streets but your head was pounding and eyes were blurry.

You remembered being led to a suite in an expensive hotel like ones where your conferences were held, being taken to room and given towels to clean up. You didn’t change the dress when given another, the attire being a summer dress even shorter. A woman came a while later named Wanda who checked the forming light contusions and scuffed skin with hands so delicate, as if you were precious cargo. You were, you just didn’t know.

You didn’t eat anything they provided and after hours of conspiring and overthinking, you heard sturdy footsteps. Since your arrival, only women bothered with you, probably the ones the leader sent. But these were heavier, harder.

The door opened and you glanced up to find the leader who demanded your locking up in this fancy place, his eyes travelling on your form sat up on bed, as you mindfully pulled your skirt down. You were anxious the entire day, dreading your future but nothing was like the restlessness that ran through you in this person’s presence.

Maybe it was the fact he was a vampire, or the leader of a Mob or maybe both, but whatever it was he intimidated you, alarmed you, even though you’ve had only two encounters including the present one. You were smart to be scared, he looked at you like, like you were something to eat, your mind told you.

“Hey.” His raspy voice caught you off guard, not having heard a single syllable out of the women the entire day, your questions being ignored the entire time.

You stared at him warily. Your mind having a myriad of emotions and thoughts. You didn’t want to trigger him, besides the place being armed well, he was a vampire, a beefy one at that and you would be stupid to try anything. Shouting and making a scene was no good either, your best option being the lamest one: to talk it out. You refused to become a willing blood bag.

You let out a long sigh, surprising him somehow, “Look, I have money, resources in the business sphere, information, what do you want? I know I got caught in this by accident, but I’m willing to do a lot of things to get out. Name it and I’ll do my best.” You said with your ‘business deal’ voice, the wise, guiding leader voice from your office.

For some reason though, the man found it hilarious. He slapped his hand on his chest, his boisterous laugh echoing. It wasn’t that good a joke if he believed it to be one. Men, ever so condescending.

“Humans, ever so gluttonous. I don’t want your money, precious.” His term of endearment didn’t fall short to your ears, but you had larger things in play here than a sweet nothing.

“I have other things to offer, name it.” Within your moral sphere, of course.

“You still don’t get it, do you? And you humans boast you have everything figured about us.”

He neared you and you leaned to the inner area of the bed, refusing to get cornered to the wall if things escalate and wanting to have the option of running away, probably in vain though. With each step he took, a new shudder ran through you because of the closing distance between your bodies, it getting triggered in unexplainable ways.

You didn’t need to say words to prompt him to explain, your scrunched eyebrows already doing that mission. “You should feel it too, you know? The goosebumps, the bewilderment in your insides, you’re intoxicated by my very presence too, aren’t you?”

The more he neared, your breaths quickened visibly, his words becoming truer. Your skin heating, mind losing a bit of consciousness. His presence didn’t affect you to this extent in the warehouse, but now? You were putty, almost incapable to think. You tried to roll over to the other side but your plan failed because he caged you with his bulky hands on your shoulder, body diagonal across yours. With how slow and out of it you were, he didn’t even need his heightened speed to trap you.

“Oh, it’s kicking in, isn’t it? The realization, the surge of love and lust? To be held and cherished and be full of me?” He smirked at your trembling form, your chest heaving and weak arms trying to push him off.

“I’ve read humans feel flushed, hot, so let’s get you out of these scraps, yes?” He slid off the thin straps while you mumbled a very unconvincing ‘stop’. Both actions were pretty pointless because he wouldn’t stop, you both knew that and also, he ended up taking the top off over your torso the normal way.

Your hands barely managed to land themselves on his wrist to pull them off, but the foolish limbs ravished in the feel of his cold skin instead. It was like a high you had never experienced and your body wanted more. It was already addicted to the feel of this stranger whose name you didn’t even know.

He unzipped the skirt, your pathetic body no longer even fighting him as he rambled on. “Among us vampires, well not much to tell but we’re all freezing cold when we find our ‘zing’. Like every normal day. Except for the inability to think and the need for their mate’s blood, of course.”

He came back up to kiss you, his body now in line with yours as one hand held your cheek and the other groped your breast. You had an out of body experience, feeling disgusted for reciprocating the kiss but also wanting more of that, more of him.

He trailed down your neck to your collarbone and you gasped for air, your thoughts incoherent. He kissed between the valley of your breasts, removing the bra sometime in between as you heaved. He wanted nothing more than to rest in those swells for an eternity.

As soon as cold air hit your nipples, one was being sucked while other was being pinched. The nameless stranger alternated between licking like a kitten and sucking like a baby on the breasts. Your rational part felt gross but the dominating side was the one experiencing delight.

He kissed down the sternum, to your bellybutton and then hovered above the thin, flimsy underwear. His hands slid down your sides, down the curve of your waist and hooked themselves at the cloth’s side, pulling them down in a swift motion.

Your legs quaked, trying to close themselves but one muscular arm on your thigh was able to hold them off, throw one away from the other. He leaned down and you were pathetically still under his muscles, your lower limbs either not daring to move or not wanting to.

You wrapped your hands around your torso to hide a bit of yourself, but did that really matter in the larger picture of the events unfolding right now?

You closed your eyes, tears already escaping since minutes ago as you tried to accept the reality of what was happening. A cold sensation on your little button caught you off guard; an infinitesimal fraction of time later, an inhale reached your ears.

You looked down, opening your eyes to find the man smelling you, his Grecian nose poking through your folds and taking in sniffs of your intimate part.

“Please sto-”

“The scent at its source, so fucking divine. I want a taste.” With that, your sentence got interrupted by his words and then by his action as his tongue licked away. It sucked on the bead, delving in the cavity there pretty fucking deep and he slurped away like he pretended to do when you were blindfolded.

Your back arched like a gymnast, hands that were folded across your chest clawing at your own skin, leaving marks behind. His hands were hooked around your thighs and they threw your legs on his shoulder some point in between. When he thrusted three fingers at once, an audible wheeze left your lips, your noiseless gasps now hoarse ‘Aah’s and you could feel him smirk.

There a also a lot of teeth involved with his razor sharp canines that appeared out of nowhere during this and when he thrusted his fingers particularly hard with his teeth nibbling on your sensitive bud, you shamelessly let go of the inside flow.

It felt humiliating and mortifying, your body glowing with the aftereffects of descending into bliss while your mind wanted to cry. Your soul was surprisingly content with what unfolded, at peace. You hated the diversity of emotions you felt, revolted to find even a bit of positive sentiment at your assaulter’s actions.

While your inner monologue happened, the man got up and out of his clothes painfully quick. You tried to sit your up, feebly trying to escape but ineffectively so. Your eyes couldn’t meet the handsome stranger’s nor did you want to see him naked and removed him form your eyeline, making you get caught off guard when his hands wrapped around your ankles and pulled you down, finishing the small distance you managed to crawl up.

His hands left their place as he kissed his way back up your flushed skin, from the swell of your ankle to the swell of your stomach. He licked away the drops of blood around the crescent scratches left by your nails under the intense ecstasy he forced upon you. Then he continued his journey from the swells of your chest to the swell of your cheek, taking you in a fiery, needy yet affectionate kiss.

Your surroundings blurred a second into the kiss, mouth and skin hungry for his touch alike. A thrust had you painfully gasp as you were stretched unlike ever before, impaled to a depth unlike ever before. He kissed away your tears that continued to spill on command of your ashamed mind and leaned back to look into your eyes, a pretty pink passing over them for a fleeting second.

His blue orbs bore into yours and you almost believed he loved you by the intensity of his gaze. At this moment in time, nothing but you two mattered, connected and finally together. How you got here didn’t matter, how unwilling you were didn’t matter. This felt right, felt necessary and was worthy of everything you went through. The rational part seemed to die the instant you two physically connected and somehow, everything and nothing made sense.

But you felt complete.

Your lips captured his of their own accord, and you both smiled into the caress of your lips while he began thrusting, one hand on your waist, the other supporting his weight. Out of breath, he leaned back, still thrusting though, and gazed at you. “Scott back there, he called you pretty, that’s practically an insult. The way you look right now, you’re much more than beautiful. You’re ethereal, my Zing, the loveliest in existence.”

His genuine words tugged at your heart. For some reason you believed him, had confidence in his feelings. Your foreheads connected as he quickened, his hand caressing your skin, the cool against your warm skin soothing. It didn’t take long for you to let go again this time; your previous resolution already dissolved. He neared your ears and whispered, “I want you to scream my name. It’s Bucky.” You nodded absentmindedly, chasing the high.

One particular thrust paired with his canines piercing your skin made you cry out “Bucky!” and you felt him smirking in your neck, lapping the blood. You wilted in bliss and your eyes closed, warmth filling you minutes after. Your eyes were dazed and you felt ‘Bucky’ shift, removing his towering frame from you, a goofy smile on the chiseled face.

With mind free of the aforementioned disapproving thoughts, you checked out his handsome face. It was like you saw him in an entirely different light now.

He gave you a quick peck, his hands cradling your face and he spoke with the utmost sincerity. “You are worth the wait, precious. No measure of time with you will be long enough. But we’ll start with forever to compensate. I’m never letting you go.”

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