#which like I do handle situations well under pressure just not like internally | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

royallyjoon · 4 years ago

Text

nephilim (quatre)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violence, manipulation

undoubtedly, the boys have opened their arms and hearts to you. but have you done the same? life has only gotten more stressful for you, and the closer you find yourself getting to them, the more you feel as though you are changing, and the more you push yourself away. you refuse to break. never forget: one’s hubris could be their hamartia. forge your lonely path with conviction. after all, it may not be yours for much longer. the victor or the fallen--exactly who is it that stands to lose the most?

——————————————————————

For a long time now, you had feared that your relatively peaceful days in Ichabod were coming to an end, and recent events only further proved your point.

Mana’s forewarning carried its weight well, as Aemilia seemed dead set on making an enemy of you. She went from hardly acknowledging your existence to cursing it.

She would never lift a finger to do her dirty work, oh no, for how could the delicate Augustus princess stoop so low as to take the garbage out herself?

No, she used her puppets Brooklyn, Constance, and whoever else she managed to sink her claws into in the student body to torment you.

They tripped you in the halls, stole your belongings, and essentially made it difficult for you to bleed into the background like you used to.

Luckily for you, you happened to gain some formidable allies.

Mana was there to tell Aemilia’s lackeys to back down, and they wouldn’t dare approach you with Jimin around. And he happened to be around more often than not, strangely enough.

The three of you managed to form a strange alliance during this time. Your best friend was still extremely cautious around Jimin and his siblings, as were you, but they had gotten somewhat closer, which made you glad. You didn’t want to be the bridge between them, as you thought that would be tiring and more than you could already handle.

Still, the two were only human. They wouldn’t always be there to defend you. Nevertheless, you were quite capable of defending yourself.

You didn’t give Aemilia the satisfaction of breaking under her pressure. You held your head up high despite the amounts of rumors flying around the school about you, even if they made you want to split your own skull open.

The student body, in part, was divided. Half of them wanted nothing to do with you, considering how you were associated with both the Augustuses and the Kims. They were wary of your actions, claiming you were steps away from meeting Wylynne herself.

The other half whispered about how tired they were of Aemilia’s antics and tantrums, given that this was not the first time she had behaved like this toward another student.

Two weeks passed by, and neither you nor Aemilia was giving in. The strawberry blonde was beside herself, and so were her poor friends. Every day that she failed to teach you a lesson was another day she went raving mad in private.

Soon enough, her patience would snap. She would find herself going over the tipping point, but the question remains: Who would stand to lose the most when she got there?

It was another stressful day for you at Ichabod Academy as you sat in your lively homeroom.

Mana rested on your desk, laying their head on their arms. You figured they would be uncomfortable, considering the way their body was twisted around in their seat, but your friend was drifting off without a care in the world.

You slumped in your chair, looking every bit as done with life as you had recently felt. There was so much you had to be on the lookout for, and today was no different.

You blinked tiredly and looked at your best friend. You then decided to lay your head on top of Mana’s, who did nothing more than let out a grunt, and closed your eyes in an attempt to get some rest as well.

When Jimin returned from the restroom, he internally cooed at the sight.

Your head started rocking back and forth as it tilted dangerously on top of Mana’s. Ensuring he wouldn’t wake you, the boy sat you up and leaned your body on him so that your head was resting on his shoulder.

He smiled down at you in relief. Your classmates took note of his treatment and started to whisper about the two of you, but one look from him and the room quieted.

Unfortunately for you, the peace was short lived. There was a loud crackling over the intercom that shook both you and Mana awake.

They sat up and glared at their surroundings in annoyance. You opened your eyes in a flash, desperately hoping it wasn’t your first period teacher.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Diivi isn’t here yet.” Jimin reassured you. “It was just the intercom.”

You nodded in thanks and covered your yawn with the back of your hand.

There was some more crackling and finally, your principal began to speak.

“Good afternoon, students. I apologize for the interruption, but this is urgent. Constance Pierre is to report to the principal’s office immediately. I repeat, Constance Pierre to the principal’s office. Thank you for your attention, and please continue about your day.”

You squinted in confusion.

Constance has never been called to the principal’s office before in her entire life. Even when she was causing trouble for you and other students, the teachers paid no mind and others were too afraid to report her. What could have happened?

The sound of feet pounding against the floor got closer and closer until you could hear it outside your classroom door. A blonde blur passed the room, disappearing as fast as it had come.

“Pierre...why does that name sound familiar?” You murmured to yourself.

“It’s the name of the freshman that went missing.” Mana said as they stretched. “Chance Pierre, I think.”

Your eyes widened in understanding.

“He was-is Constance’s little brother.” They corrected their statement.

Jimin glanced at your shocked expression and suppressed a dry laugh.

Quite frankly, he could care less about the Pierre family. Constance has been nothing but a nuisance to him and his brother.

He’d been willing to overlook the rumors of how annoyingly outstanding and clever the freshman was because he knew his little brother would always be better.

But after the blonde went so far as to start pestering you, he used the information he’d gathered against Chance in its opportune moment. And he had no regrets.

You snuck a peek at Jimin and saw a familiar, cold decisiveness plastered on his face. It was the only expression you’d been seeing from him for a while now. Any time someone brought up the missing student, Jimin would go frostily silent.

It reminded you of the difference between the two of you, just like his reaction--or lack thereof--the morning of Chance’s disappearance had.

You figured he was just uncomfortable talking about the situation and was carefully avoiding it, just as he had with you and Mana that first day you spent lunch together.

At least it wasn’t Mom or Mana, you thought to yourself.

“They must’ve finally found him.” You commented, distracted by your incoming thoughts.

Aemilia’s family is specifically in charge of hunting down anyone who can be perceived as a “threat” to the Kim family. Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre, however, acquired social immunity for themselves and their families as the girls are so close.

Or so you thought.

Constance’s disheveled appearance the morning Chance went missing made much more sense, then. She was worried sick about her little brother, and one of her closest friends didn’t even bother warning her or her family.

You shuddered. Just how many people would Aemilia sacrifice? How far would she go, just for her sick sense of what was right?

You had no intention of finding out.

By lunch time, the rest of the school had heard exactly what happened to poor Chance Pierre.

The fourteen year old boy was deposited in the family’s living room, returned out of the blue just like all of those who came before him.

His mother had stepped out for a short moment to go grocery shopping and returned to find her bloody mess of a son, who she then quickly rushed to the hospital.

He was covered in bruises, had a broken arm and leg, several broken ribs, and permanent blindness in his left eye. All things considered, he is one of the lucky ones.

His family was just grateful that he was returned to them still breathing.

Whatever the message was, the Pierre family had received it loud and clear. And so had the rest of the town.

No one is allowed to leave Ichabod. Not without being stopped by Death herself.

Another school day had come to an end, and you walked out the building with Mana and Jimin at your side.

Seeing how the end of the month was coming up, you and Jimin decided that it would be best if you went over to his house to work on the project again. The beginning of the presentations were not far off and it was about time you completed your research.

It didn’t take long to convince your mother. The both of you found it easier for you to go over to the Kim residence than to ask Jimin if he could come to your home.

You sat on a granite bench outside of the entrance. Mana stood on your left, leaning up against the wall and Jimin sat to your right, perched on the bench.

You were waiting for Driver Bin and Mr. Waye to show up when you heard a familiar voice call out.

“(Y/N)! Jimin hyung!” You watched as Taehyung came running out the school doors, Jungkook trailing calmly behind him.

You waved at the two and gave them a tired smile. Taehyung made himself comfortable on Jimin’s lap as Jungkook stood along the wall near Mana.

“Did you have a good day, (Y/N)?” Taehyung hummed, eyes teeming with concern.

“Yeah, it was fine.” You said, struggling to actually mean that statement.

Mana gave you a knowing look and huffed out a laugh under their breath.

It’s not as though you almost had your things stolen twice in one day.

This morning, Hoseok saw you chasing a junior who was running away with some of your notebooks and folders in hand.

His charming smile dropped and he gave her a grim look. All he had to do was extend his hand and she placed the items in his palm, which he then promptly returned to you.

Then one of your classmates stole your laptop while you were at lunch in an effort to wipe the thing. Had it not been for Namjoon walking into the library and catching them in the act, you surely would have lost all of your information.

Thankfully, he safely retrieved your laptop from your classmate. You made a new password for all of your devices and resolved to never let your bag out of your sight again.

“I’m glad you’re coming over again, though! Maybe we’ll get to watch a movie or play some games together.” He flashed you a boxy grin and you sent him a small smile in return.

“Jungkookie’s got loads of games,” Jimin added, peeking his head out from behind Taehyung. “He’s such a hoarder, he rarely lets us play with him. I’m sure he’d let you, though.”

Jungkook punched Jimin in the shoulder, looking at the ground in embarrassment. “Hyung, what are you saying...”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” You sighed absentmindedly. “I could do with a break from school and homework for like, the next month.”

The youngest brother flushed, peeking up at you through his bangs. “If you wanted to, I’d be happy to play with you.” He mumbled as he smiled.

“Oh, there’s Driver Bin!” Taehyung called, hopping up and pulling you and Jimin to your feet.

You hugged Mana goodbye as the black van pulled up to the curb. Just as you turned to follow Jimin, however, someone knocked their shoulder into yours.

“Oh, sweetie. You should really watch where you’re going.”

Brooklyn stood in your path with her arms crossed. Over her shoulder, you saw Aemilia and Constance standing a short distance away. They looked as though they were about to make their way towards Aemilia’s family’s car.

Of course, she could have just walked around you, but why would she ever let you off easy?

The strawberry blonde wore a satisfied smile and she leaned over to whisper something in the ear of a haggard Constance. Constance merely blinked and nodded in response.

You smiled at the girl in front of you. “Of course. It was all my mistake. I’m so sorry, Brooklyn.”

You stepped closer as though you were going to confront her and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward you before she could step back.

She fought against you but that only made you grip her arm tighter. You could feel your nails start to dig into her skin.

“I’m sorry that you’re nothing more than a means to an end.” You murmured in her ear.

The brunette stilled.

“I’m sorry Aemilia couldn’t care less about you or your family.” You continued, speaking in a low voice. “I’m sorry that your so called friend sees you as mere disposable goods, or should I say...a useful little puppet?”

You released your grip on her arm, bringing your hand up to her shoulder instead and giving it a few consoling pats. “Didn’t your little sister just get the lead role in the school play? I would hate for you to be the next Constance...”

You looked toward the blonde just to emphasize your point and Brooklyn’s eyes followed your gaze.

Constance was staring, unseeing, at the ground, nervously clinging to Aemilia like a lifeline. She was strangely quiet and obedient...like a dog in fear of disobeying its master.

Brooklyn looked back and forth between you, Aemilia, and Constance in utter shock. You sent her one more sympathetic look before moving around her to follow the Kims into their car.

The remaining students whispered, wondering about what you said and in the corner of your eye, you saw Mana tilt their head inquisitively. You knew they had questions, questions you would have to answer later.

You bowed in greeting to Mr. Bin and entered the car behind Jimin like last time, Namjoon going in after you.

Mr. Bin closed the door and walked around to the other side of the vehicle in preparation to leave.

“I’ve never seen Brooklyn look so shocked,” Taehyung said from the backseat. He put his hands on the headrest behind you and poked his head around it. “What did you tell her?”

You shrugged. “Something that could hopefully put her life in a different perspective.”

“I don’t know how you deal with those girls, (Y/N).” Jimin said. “Aren’t you tired of the tricks Aemilia’s playing?”

“Don’t you just want to get rid of them, once and for all?” Taehyung asked, tone darkening.

You shrugged. “For whatever reason, she’s currently obsessed with me-”

The reason being all of you-

“-and of course I want her to stop, but I would never give her the satisfaction of letting her think she won. She’s petty, and a bully.”

You texted your mother an update on your location and locked your phone, looking up at your classmates. “She just needs a reality check. I’d be happy to give it to her every now and then.”

Part of you felt like trying to care for Brooklyn was pointless, especially after the way she treated you. The other part of you felt you were killing two birds with one stone--you were opening her eyes and isolating Aemilia in one go.

While Namjoon and Hoseok nodded in understanding, the rest of the boys couldn’t help but worry.

They all followed Namjoon’s advice religiously in fear of scaring you away. But what if your independence only made it harder for them to be able to be there for you? What if you never came to them on your own for assistance?

...They would simply have to make it so that you had no other choice, would they not?

But the circumstances were not yet that dire, so for now, you had nothing to fear.

——————————————————————

The ride into the woods was pleasantly silent, and this time you made sure you didn’t fall asleep.

All too soon, Mr. Bin drove the van past the wrought-iron gate and up the impressive driveway. You weren’t as nervous as you were your first time visiting their residence, but you still had your guard up.

The boys bound up the wooden steps and opened the front door, piling into their home. You entered last, quietly closing the door behind you.

As you were taking off your shoes, you spied a pair of nude slides next to all of the black ones.

Jungkook noticed you looking at them and smiled. “Mother prepared them for you. She saw you wearing hyung’s pair the last time you came over and ordered them after you left with your mom.”

“That’s so kind of her,” you said, slightly in awe. “I’ll be sure to express my thanks.”

You never thought you’d reach the day where Mrs. Kim would welcome you so readily into her home, but here you stood corrected.

“(Y/N), let’s go!” Jimin called to you from the stairway.

“Coming!” You lay your shoes at the door, slid your feet into the slippers, and went to catch up with him, climbing upstairs.

The library had hardly changed since you were gone. The shelves were just as dusty and dilapidated as before, and the couch was just as comfortable.

You maintained a safe distance away from Jimin this time as well so he wouldn’t get the opportunity to pull any tricks.

You spent the majority of the afternoon on writing the paper together, as you both had agreed. A few hours later, you finished and decided to get a head start on the presentation.

“‘The strength of a Nephilim depends on which angelic order their parent hails from,’” You read out to Jimin as he added to your shared document from his laptop.

“‘The sheer majority, however, were parented by those in the third sphere. This was the lowest order consisting of the angels most concerned with the affairs of humans: Principalities, Archangels, and Angels.’”

“Got it.” He claimed, typing out a couple more sentences. “I think we have enough for the background information, but Mrs. Hargrove also wants us to discuss the religions they come from, their abilities and their weaknesses.”

You hummed. “Angels are mentioned in a multitude of religions, but Nephilim are really only mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, according to sources.”

“So that question shouldn’t be so difficult to answer,” He smiled, marking it.

“Nephilim are really strong,” you said from behind the book cover, fascinated by the information it held. “They appear as ordinary humans on the outside but possess celestial powers bestowed upon them by their angelic parent. They’re faster and stronger than ordinary humans, and are excellent at reading people.”

Jimin took the book from you and glanced further down in the book to see if he could find more specific powers for your project.

“Oh, I found something here.”

You opened your laptop and prepared to type as he read.

“It says Nephilim possess super strength, longevity, the power of flight, healing abilities, teleportation, telepathy, angelic wrath, illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and telekinesis.” He raised his eyebrow in awe.

You chuckled as your hands raced to keep up with his words. “Illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and what?”

“Telekinesis, the ability to move things with your mind.” He said.

“I could use that all the time--like, the other day, I was waiting in front of the student council room to return the uniform I borrowed.”

You recounted the story for Jimin as he peeked up at you. You were too engrossed in typing, however, to notice his gaze. “I could have sworn the door was locked, but then Namjoon appeared and it unlocked without him pulling out a key or anything. He just flicked his wrist and open sesame.”

Jimin unabashedly stared at you, a small smile on his face. You always noticed the littlest things about them and it made his heart pound for you a little harder.

“Namjoon hyung always comes in at the coolest moments,” he replied, looking down at what you’d managed to gather so far. “So, we have the powers and where they come from. I think we found a section on their weaknesses the other day.”

“Yeah, it sounds like their main weakness is original sin, or the innate tendency to sin, all humans receive once they’re born.” You thought back to the section you and Jimin read before. “Because they’re part human and part angel, they are constantly at war with themselves and the human side typically wins.”

“Do you think that’s a bad thing?” Jimin asked.

You closed your laptop. “...What do you mean?”

Jimin shifted, tucking his legs underneath him. “I mean, they’re celestial beings. They have cosmic powers at their disposal, access to the heavens, and everything they could have wanted. But they have a choice to throw it away, to sin, for...whatever the reason may be.” He muttered, glancing aside at the carpet. “If they gave it up, do you think they would have made the right decision?”

You paused for a moment, eyeing the shadows nearby branches cast on the library windows. “It think it depends on the person and what they’re sinning for. Whether they were doing it for their own self interest, or to protect a loved one-”

“What if they were doing it because they loved someone?” Jimin interrupted, eyes widened in curiosity.

Your eyes left the window as you turned to face him. “I would admire their dedication. And it’s not as though they lose their abilities when they fall from grace. I only wish that person would be worth it, and that they’re happy.”

You smiled wistfully. “An angel losing their wings to love someone for the rest of their life. What a sad, beautiful thing. ’Tis the plight of being human, I suppose. They’re really not that different from us--besides the celestial gifts, of course.”

Jimin grinned and hummed in agreement.

As always, only you could understand them perfectly.

You stood up from the couch and brushed off the back of your skirt. “Uh, Jimin, could you please tell me where the bathroom is?”

He smiled. “Yeah! You just make a left at the corner, then a right, then another right, and there should be a guest room with a bathroom in it.”

You zoned into and out of your thoughts momentarily and blinked, smiling and nodding at him. “Thanks.”

——————————————————————

Perhaps Jimin told you the directions incorrectly, or you made a left when you should have made a right, but there was no doubt about it. You were lost. There was no bathroom where he stated there was, and you’d been wandering around the third floor for several minutes now with no clue as to where it was.

“Damn this house.” You muttered under your breath. “Only seven people live here, why is it so big?”

You finally came upon what looked like a guest room, one that hopefully had a bathroom inside, when you heard two voices speaking from the behind the partially open door.

“Seriously. You need to be more careful with these sorts of things.” The first voice said, deep and mature.

You stopped in your tracks immediately.

“It’s not like I wanted this to happen.” the second one spoke. Their voice was much lower and raspier than the first.

“Of course you didn’t. That’s why you should pay more attention when doing your work.” The first voice nagged and you heard someone hiss.

“Ah, it’s fine. It was worth it. Still, thanks for patching me up, hyung.”

You were stuck near the crack in the door, too afraid to move in fear of being heard.

“Whatever. You’re too reckless. Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson.”

“Oh, come on. How was I supposed to know that the kid would make such a-”

“Stop talking.” The first voice stated, sounding much lower than it had before.

Your eyes shook at the sudden silence and you whipped around to look at the hallway, quickly searching for a place to hide.

About two steps behind you, there was a five foot long indent in the wall, courtesy of the prominent display of a large painting.

You risked it and threw yourself backward, stepping as quietly onto the wood as you could before throwing your back up against the indent, facing away from the room.

And not a moment too soon, as you heard the door fly open the second you were hidden from view. You sunk to the floor in a crouch.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” You could hear the younger’s voice sound from the room much clearer now.

You sucked yourself as tightly into the corner as you could.

There was no response from the older and you strained your ears for a sign, a hint, anything.

Breathing felt too loud, swallowing felt too loud, the brush of your clothes against your neck as you turned your head felt too loud. Everything was deafening.

Please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me-

There was the slow, soft padding of feet on the wooden floor. You trembled as it got closer and closer to where you sat.

In the corner of your eye, you could see a socked foot, inches away from where you hid.

“Jin hyung!”

Your savior, none other than Jimin, appeared at the end of the hallway, yelling in excitement.

You know he saw you, of course he saw you. It was impossible not to coming from his direction. You cast your eyes down, praying he wouldn’t reveal your presence.

He grinned as he ran towards the man.

“You came back early!” The younger boy tackled him in a hug, wrapping his legs around him.

The force drove the man back several steps and he grunted, his foot disappearing from your sight. “Jimin, you’re getting a bit too old for this, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but I know you’ll always carry me, hyung.” You heard him giggle.

“What are you doing up here?” The other voice asked, joining the other two in the hallway. You remained where you sat, not moving an inch.

“Yoongi hyung! You came back too!”

He scoffed. “Of course I did.”

“Answer his question first, Jimin ah.” You heard the elder comment in a much warmer voice than the threatening tone you heard behind the door.

“I was in the library working on a project with my classmate. She had to use the bathroom but she never came back, so I came looking for her.”

You blinked rapidly, staring at the wooden floor in front of you.

There was a pause.

“Have either of you seen her?” Jimin asked.

“...No, we haven’t.” The deep and mature voice, which you now matched to the eldest brother, replied.

“I’ll just keep looking, then. But you should head downstairs. Father will be home soon, he’ll be pleased to know you’re here!”

Due to the series of complaints you then heard, it sounded as though Jimin took both of his brothers by the wrist and led them to the stairway down the other side of the hallway.

You waited in that spot for several moments, until you couldn’t hear anything but the wind blowing up against the walls. Once you ensured that they were gone, you ran back down the hallway you came, bladder be damned.

Of course. How could you have possibly forgotten Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s two eldest children?

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin.

Had you not moved when you did, and had Jimin not interfered when he had, you might have...no, you surely would have lost your life in that instant.

——————————————————————

You made it back to the library, quickly and quietly opening the door before rushing in.

Jimin still hadn’t returned, so no one was there to see you fly over to the couch and plop down to sit. You tried to catch your breath to slow the pounding of your heart.

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin. You were almost caught eavesdropping on their conversation.

You had never wanted to purge your memory more than in that exact moment.

What if they suspect I heard everything? What if they have the Augustuses’ people capture me for it? It couldn’t have been that important--it sounded like they were just patching up wounds. Maybe one of them got into a fight? Surely this wouldn’t be enough to warrant such violence. Even they have limits, yes? Then again, when did they ever need a reason to-

The library doors flew open and you flinched, looking up at them only to sigh in relief.

“(Y/N), there you are! Did you find the bathroom alright?”

Jimin’s eyes twinkled playfully as he smiled at you. You restrained yourself from cursing at or hitting him in anger and relief, choosing instead to let out a deep sigh.

“Yeah,” you stated quietly. “It was fine.”

At that moment you received a text from your mother stating that she was downstairs.

"My mom says she’s here. I guess it’s time for me to go.” You stated, beginning to pack your laptop and notebooks away.

“Sure! I’ll come downstairs with you.” He smiled and turned away from you to return The Word of the Lost to its proper shelf.

“Thanks,” you whispered, then zipped your bag up.

Jimin was already gliding away toward the back of the library, the leather bound book in hand, but he still managed to hear you. He didn’t respond, but he smirked triumphantly.

You accepted his silence as a “You’re welcome” and took the moment to fix your composure. When you were both ready, he led the way downstairs.

“My eldest sons have finally returned home!” You heard Kim Moonsik cheer from the living room.

His tone, usually melancholic and oily, was much lighter today. You surmised that even his mood could be improved by the sight of his family.

He sat on one of the two settees while his two oldest sons perched on the long, gray couch in front of him.

They both had black hair and dark eyes, like their brothers and parents. One was casually dressed in a large black hoodie and black sweatpants, while the other looked comfortable in a neutral toned sweater and slacks.

The one sitting on the left rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand why you had hyung drag me here a week earlier than necessary, Father. It isn’t that big of a deal.”

Kim Yoongi was notorious for his rebellious attitude. You had heard that since his days at Ichabod Academy, he never listened to authority figures--his classmates were afraid of him and his teachers let him do as he please. The only time he would adhere to rules and tradition was at the required monthly meetings, for obvious reasons.

“On the contrary,” The older man chuckled. “Every time you come home is cause for occasion, my prodigal son.”

“Have some sympathy for me here.” The eldest drawled with his arms crossed. “I get a headache every time I’m forced to drag you home with me.”

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, was an entertainer. He would lower people’s defenses with a friendly expression and a joke. The citizens of Ichabod found him much more agreeable and respectable as Mayor Kim’s eldest son. They thought him harmless. They fawned over him and Namjoon, praising the mayor for how well he’d raised them in terms of respect and diplomacy.

They were fools. For even now, you could see it as he lounged back relaxedly in his seat: Kim Seokjin may be considered kind and polite, but he was by no means harmless.

“Do you want me to bring you some medicine?” Jimin piped up from beside you on the stairs, drawing the three’s attention.

You could feel the college students’ gaze burning into the side of your face.

You kept your facial expression neutral and descended the stairs behind Jimin, who skipped down the rest of them.

“Who’s this?” You heard Yoongi question.

“This is my classmate, (Y/N). She’s the person I was looking for earlier,” Jimin said, seating himself in between his older brothers.

You bowed toward them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Seokjin smiled and reached out his hand. You extended yours, expecting a handshake.

He held it, turned it over, and pressed his lips to the back of it. “The pleasure is all ours.”

Yoongi smirked as you took your hand back, fighting a blush. “How lovely it is to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you, you too. It’s nice to see you again as well, Mr. Kim.” You addressed the older man.

“You also, (Y/N) dear. I’m simply ecstatic you took up our invitation.” Mayor Kim said, the usual, passionate fire in his eyes blazing.

You fought back a shudder.

“You know the entire town needs to be present, Yoongi ah.” Mr. Kim continued the conversation from before. “You’re no exception.”

“I never said I was,” the second oldest retorted. “I just prefer to spend less of my break here.”

“How’s everything at school, Jiminie?” Seokjin asked as Jimin wrapped his arms around his midsection, skillfully redirecting the subject matter.

“Strange, as usual.” He mumbled, hesitantly looking up at you.

“I heard the police finally found the Pierre boy,” Mr. Kim added, and you suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in the presence of this conversation.

Where’s my mother? Weren’t we supposed to be leaving?

“Yes, we heard about it at lunch.” Jimin said. His tone when speaking to his father wasn’t as clipped or standoffish as it was when he was speaking to his mother; rather, it was more lackadaisical. “Right, (Y/N)?”

All four heads spun to you, still standing in the middle of the living room.

“Why are you standing there looking so stiff?” Seokjin sent you a sinister smile. “Come join us.”

This was the last place you wanted to be, but you had no choice in the matter. You smiled awkwardly and shuffled to the empty settee.

Before you could sit down, however, Jimin jumped up and pulled you to the couch, seating you in his old spot between his brothers. He then claimed the spot on the other side of Seokjin.

You stiffened and relaxed in a second, praying to everything that you didn’t look as uncomfortable as you felt.

The atmosphere was stifling. You couldn’t breathe.

“It’s a shame what happened to him, truly.” Mr. Kim continued, humming in sympathy. “I sincerely hope something like that doesn’t have to happen again.”

How dare he sit here and act as though he had nothing to do with it? What happened to Chance Pierre was his fault! You unconsciously balled your fist in your lap.

“I’m sure everyone will take this lesson to heart, Father.” Seokjin consoled him. “May they never underestimate the power of Wylynne’s grace again.”

“She is holy and forgiving, but some actions need to be punished, yes.” Yoongi added from your right with a cruel smirk. “Praise Wylynne.”

“Praise Wylynne.” Jimin nodded, eyes twinkling with amusement.

It suddenly occurred to you that you were the only one left who had not spoken. When you raised your eyes to meet with the others’, indeed, they were waiting for your response.

“...Praise Wylynne.” You smiled. False religion or not, there was no way you would be testing your luck in front of the divine priest and his sons.

Mr. Kim nodded in approval, then broke out into a laugh. “Wise, hardworking, and devoted; like mother, like daughter. Wylynne surely smiles upon the women of the (L/N) family.”

You laughed awkwardly. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“Will your mother be arriving to get you soon?” Mr. Kim asked you.

“It was to my knowledge that she was already here-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your head spun toward the sound of your mother’s voice and found her standing in the entryway next to Kim Eunbyul. She wore navy blue scrubs today and her hair was pulled back into a bun with a few loose strands in the front.

You had thought right. The two were a vision next to each other.

Mrs. Kim walked over, bringing your mother with her. “I apologize for the wait--(M/N) and I were having the most delightful conversation. (Y/N) my dear, how are you?”

She sat next to her husband on one settee and your mother took a seat on the other, empty one.

This was your second time seeing Mrs. Kim, yet you still could not get over her beauty. She wore another silk housedress, a muslin scarf draped behind her back and over her inner arms.

Her elegance was neither ostentatious nor arrogant. She demanded respect but gave it in return.

She had what Aemilia desperately sought after but could never possess.

You nodded with a smile, bowing slightly. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim. I’m fine, thanks for worrying. And thank you so much for the sandals, I really appreciate you going out of your way for me.”

The former actress waved her hand lightly as she laughed. “It was no trouble at all!”

She took your hands in hers and looked down at her feet. “Besides, we match!” Following her gaze, your eyes widened. Indeed, you both had the same style and brand of slippers on.

“Thank you so much for the welcoming her so warmly, Mrs. Kim.” Your mother smiled.

“Of course.” She assured. “Think nothing of it. I already think of you both as family.”

Your heart warmed a bit and you smiled in response to her words, for you already greatly admired Mrs. Kim. To think that she had taken a liking to both you and your mother...

It was then that the rest of the brothers trekked downstairs in curiosity, then heartily grinned once they realized their oldest brothers had arrived.

“How about we let the kids step aside so us adults can talk properly, hmm?” Mrs. Kim suggested, taking her husband’s hand.

Mr. Kim grinned and squeezed her hand in response. “A wonderful idea, love.”

The boys then quickly pulled you away from the main couches, moving your discussion toward the glass windows.

You looked back at your mom a couple of times while the brothers greeted each other before focusing on the conversation at hand.

The eight of you stood in a circle near the windows, and you were currently stuck between Jungkook and Seokjin.

“The other day, (Y/N) said she really liked your interior designing, Jin hyung.” Hoseok piped up. “She said she thought the living room was lovely.”

“Did she? She must have impeccable taste.” He playfully winked at you.

You smiled weakly. “Thank you. I really admire what you’ve done with the space.”

Yoongi, across from you, leaned against the glass. “How is everything at the academy these days?” He asked.

You hesitated to answer then directed your gaze to the floor thinking the question was not meant for you. When you didn’t hear any of the other boys speak, you looked up and found six sets of eyes on you.

Their gazes were so focused and intense, as if you would break or disappear the moment they looked away. You shifted your eyes.

“It’s not the easiest, but isn’t that what high school is like for everyone?” You grimace-smiled.

“(Y/N)’s being bullied.” Taehyung revealed, draping himself over Jimin’s shoulder. “Aemilia Augustus and her lackeys won’t leave her alone.”

This little-

You whipped your head around to see if your mother had heard anything. Thankfully, Taehyung’s voice was lowered at the time. She seemed engrossed in her discussion with Mrs. Kim.

“The Augustus princess?” Yoongi asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“She’s what?” Jin started in surprise, his polite smile turning into a displeased frown. He glanced at Namjoon. The student council president simply nodded in response.

“She has the other kids pester or steal from (Y/N).” Hoseok added, glaring out the window. “The students can hardly stop talking about it.”

Jungkook gently tugged on your shirt sleeve to get your attention. “If she’ s bothering you--”

“It’s alright.” You assured them before they could really give Aemilia and her people a reason to go after you. “I’m working it out.”

“And how well is that going?” Namjoon snorted, giving you a knowing look.

You grimaced, locking and unlocking your phone. “...I’m working it out.” You repeated, suddenly fascinated by the wooden floor.

“If she ever gives you a hard time, you let me know.” Yoongi said, holding up his fists. One hand was wrapped in bandages and the other hand was bare, knuckles covered in torn skin and still-healing scabs. “I don’t get these from just lying around, if you catch my drift.”

You gaped at his hands and at the offer. Kim Yoongi? Offering to beat someone up for you? Where had his famous apathetic attitude gone?

“Violence is never the answer, Yoongi ah.” Seokjin replied before you could. He gently took your phone from you while it was unlocked and swiped around until he found your contacts. “If you ever need help, just give us a call. Don’t be afraid to reach out. We’ll always be there.”

You opened and closed your mouth in distress.

Seokjin pointedly ignored the glare Namjoon was sending his way.

He was jealous of his younger brothers, who got to see and speak with you every day. Earlier, he’d been in the middle of healing and wrapping Yoongi’s injury when he saw your shadow outside the door.

He’d barely been able to hold himself back from ripping you out your hiding spot and pulling you into his arms. But then all of their progress would have been for naught.

So he allowed Jimin to drag him away.

But not anymore.

He understood that you needed your time and space but, really, their angel shouldn’t be so stubborn around them.

He held the device out to you and you took it back, observing the six newest additions to your contacts list. He’d taken the time to add not just his number, but the rest of the brothers’ numbers as well.

“Thank you,” You confided with a rare, genuine, and small smile, “really. But I can handle it myself.”

On the outside, some of them nodded while the others frowned at the floor.

On the inside, however, they collectively sighed inside their head, tired of your age old response.

They just wanted you to be able to lean on them, to see them as another option that was always available to you, and only you.

How long was it going to take for you to trust them? How far would they have to go to capture the object of their desire?

Whatever the obstacle, they would surely overcome it.

Your mother called your name once more and you shouldered your bag, replacing the nude slippers with your school shoes.

“I hope you have a pleasant night,” You said to the brothers, fumbling with your shoes. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow!” Jimin waved you off with a smile and his brothers and parents chorused farewells behind him.

You both bowed once more to the Kim family and descended the stairs, making as hasty but collected an exit as possible.

“I swear, (Y/N), I lose years off my life every time I come to this house,” your mother murmured once you both sat in the car.

“You know what, Mom? So do I.” You exhaled, slumping down in the front seat. “Drive slowly, won’t you? I might be the one throwing up once we reach the edge of the woods.”

Your mother barked out a laugh and nodded in thanks to Mr. Bin as he opened the gate.

As you drove away from the Kim family home, you opened your messages and texted Mana, updating them on how you’d nearly lost your life this time.

That night, you ate dinner, cleaned up, finished other assignments, and had an hours long conversation with Mana about Brooklyn and your latest visit to the Kim residence.

The way their eyes bugged out of their head when you told them about how you’d nearly gotten caught made you laugh. Of course, it hadn’t been funny in the moment. Even thinking about it now made you slightly nauseous.

But you went to sleep that night all the same, dreaming once again of haunting, magnificent black wings.

——————————————————————

Once the front door of the Kim household closed, Jimin’s cheerful face dropped into a scowl.

And he was not the only one upset. All seven of them glowered around the room in the aftermath of (Y/N)’s departure.

Kim Eunbyul and Kim Moonsik sat deathly still on the couch, unprepared for whatever was coming.

When someone is explosive with anger, they are destructive. One might break things, they may say harmful words, but for the most part, one takes their anger out in that single moment.

The seven men behind them were different.

When they were angry, they plotted. The harder it was for them to get what they wanted, the harder they fought. They made sure there would be nothing that could possibly be in their way.

“We told you to be patient, hyung.” Namjoon broke the angry silence. “Don’t ruin all of our plans with your ineptitude.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?” Seokjin scoffed. “I put your number in her phone, too. Try being a little grateful.”

“Don’t disrespect your elders, Namjoon.” Hoseok chided, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We told you to put your dog on her leash.”

“You weren’t complaining when Aemilia’s antics gave you opportunities to help (Y/N),” Namjoon sneered. “I loathe her very existence as well, don’t misunderstand me.”

“You should hear the rumors going around at school, Namjoon hyung.” Jungkook frowned. “People are placing bets on how soon Aemilia’s going to destroy her.”

“I know you’re the brains of this operation but if (Y/N) gets hurt, this is not going to end prettily.” Yoongi stated solemnly.

“I won’t let it get to that point.” Namjoon assured.

“Get it together. And keep that girl in line.” Seokjin nodded.

There was a significant reason Eunbyul was so receptive of the (h/c) haired girl and her mother.

Despite the fact that she really did enjoy your company and was happy to welcome you into their home, she knew what would await her if she ever dared to mistreat you.

You precious thing. You precious, hardheaded, stubborn thing. Why did you not give in to what they wanted? Could you truly not see how much they how much they longed to protect possess be with you?

Perhaps you’ve already started picking up on it, and this was why you wanted to distance yourself from them before it was too late.

You beautiful, foolish thing. It was already far too late.

Eunbyul quivered, squeezing her husband’s hand. Moonsik wore a stony expression on his face, but he squeezed his wife’s hand back with surprising strength.

When she looked up from her lap, she gasped, for Jungkook was squatting directly in front of her. She felt as though his dark gaze was piercing her soul.

The probability of that very thing happening in this instant was high.

She exhaled and carefully avoided his gaze.

“Mother, Father,” he hummed, “is everything alright? You’re shaking like leaves in the wind.”

“Oh dear.” Taehyung replied, resting his arms on the back of the settee behind them. He tilted his head and frowned down at the two as if they were insects, scurrying around in an attempt to escape their deaths. “That doesn’t sound very good.”

“I’m sure it was just a result of them working so hard.” Seokjin smiled at Moonsik. “I must say, I was impressed.” The elder simply nodded and avoided his gaze.

Namjoon strolled over to Eunbyul’s side of the settee and gently pat the woman on her back. “Your performance today was especially moving, Mother.”

“At least she wasn’t trembling in front of (Y/N) like she did last time,” Jimin kissed his teeth. “Useless woman.”

Hoseok bent over in laughter, the outburst shortening into a light giggle as he joined them by the couches.

“They work diligently, why not praise them once in a while?” He suggested, suppressing another laugh.

“Like I’ll ever.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “I really hope you know what you’re talking about, Namjoon hyung. I’m going to bed before I feel the need to hit something--or someone.” Jimin glared and bounded back up the stairs.

“It’s alright. We’re fine.” Eunbyul forced out. “Thank you.”

“Yes, you should be. If you weren’t, it would imply you did something wrong.” Yoongi smiled.

“And if you did something wrong,” Jin continued, “...well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

She stiffly nodded.

“Of course not.” Taehyung grinned and pat her head condescendingly.

“Of course.” Moonshik repeated, willing his hands to stop trembling.

He had never expected this to happen. He never thought he would be living the life that he did.

He had called for power, and he had surely received it, but not in the way he thought he would.

Was the insurmountable power worth the treatment he received in his own home?

Yes. And if he had to repeat it, he would have made the exact same decision. It would surely be worth it. That was what he told himself day in and day out, the prayer he spoke to his god in an attempt to convince himself of the lie.

It would surely be worth it.

“We’re trusting you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim.”

——————————————————————

The Augustus residence was a fairly old building, a beautiful family manor transformed into a modern, affluent home. It stood in the center of the city, as their family used to be the epicenter of society.

Aemilia found both her home and its location extremely fitting.

As unfortunate as it would be that she would have to move from this stately home to one in the middle-of-nowhere woods, she was willing to deal with it. She would follow her future husband anywhere, everywhere, if need be.

Usually, the esteemed Augustus home was silent.

“How could you?” Brooklyn shouted in anger.

But today, those grand old walls whispered in the wind through quite the ruckus.

“The people that work for your family dragged Constance’s little brother out of his home in the middle of the day! They tortured him for two weeks! You knew where he was the whole time, and you didn’t say a thing!” Brooklyn gestured toward their friend. “She came to you for help, and you slammed the door in her face!”

The blonde had stopped talking long ago. She curled herself into a ball and tucked her head into her chest, looking well on the verge of a panic attack.

The three girls had arrived at Aemilia’s house earlier, prepared to do the usual: finish some homework, study, and binge watch some shows.

But (Y/N) (L/N)’s words had been ringing inside of Brooklyn’s head all afternoon.

A means to an end.

Disposable goods.

A useful little puppet.

She couldn’t take thinking it anymore, so she finally voiced the dreaded question. Brooklyn asked Aemilia what she and Constance meant to her.

The strawberry blonde tilted her head, staying quiet for several minutes. She then grinned and replied,“My ladies in waiting?”

For Wylynne’s sake. She could have at least been less direct than to compare them to literal servants.

Brooklyn erupted at Aemilia, asking her if that’s what she thought years of friendship had amounted to, thus leading them to their current argument.

For whatever reason, it had never occurred to the brunette that Aemilia may be using her. She thought she had broken the barriers the callous girl held for her long ago, but after Constance showed up at Brooklyn’s house in tears, combined with Aemilia’s response to Chance’s disappearance...

Perhaps it was time she seriously reevaluated their “friendship”.

“Don’t you think you could have reassured her that he was alive? Even police officers tell family members when people have been arrested.” Brooklyn glared at the other girl.

“Get real, Brooklyn. This isn’t a stupid police station. This is Ichabod. It’s because we live in Ichabod that Chance broke the law, and received his due punishment.” Aemilia justified coldly.

“A fourteen year old boy in laying in his bed, covered in bruises and permanently blind in one eye. But I need to get real because this is Ichabod, and that somehow makes it okay?” Brooklyn raised her volume, disturbed by how convicted Aemilia was in her reasoning. “How could you possibly think that makes it okay?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Aemilia sneered, “I wasn’t aware that I needed your opinion or approval for my thoughts and actions.”

“That’s exactly the problem! This is about you playing us, using us through your actions! I honestly thought we meant more than that to you!” She snarled in response.

“I don’t see a problem with it,” Aemilia shrugged. “You and Constance used me for popularity and safety, and now you come crying to me, claiming that I can’t use you in return?” She barked out a laugh. “That hardly seems fair. How ungrateful.”

The brunette couldn’t deny the benefits that came along with being close to the strawberry blonde, but for her to twist their entire history and friendship into one of utility? She was beside herself with anger.

“Used you? You think we used you? For what?” She roared. “Your money? Your status? Don’t you think we have those exact same things?”

Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre were not one’s normal, run of the mill best friends. In fact, they were in extremely similar situations to Aemilia, for their families were also members of the old city elite.

The Hayes and Pierres had lived in Ichabod for nearly as long as the Augustuses. They may not have had the same amount of prestige that Aemilia lay claim to, but they certainly were not far off.

“You grew up with us and thought we were nothing more than what? Walking labels that strengthened your social status? People you could use to do your bidding?” Brooklyn deadpanned. “We were nothing more than pawns in your game, weren’t we?”

“We didn’t befriend you because of your title or your family, Aemilia. We befriended you because we admired you and your personality. We weren’t the ones that twisted your perception of us into toys, or puppets, or ladies in waiting.” She gave a mirthless smile. “That was all you.”

Aemilia paused, reminiscing on her younger days. In every interaction she ever experienced, she was treated like royalty. At some point, she simply assumed it was natural for everyone to bend to her every whim.

Everyone...except for those two.

They had approached her for some childish reason like playing dolls or tag or other, but it was all genuine.

“I honestly can’t believe you.” Brooklyn shook her head at her silence and stormed around the room, collecting her and Constance’s materials and shoving them into their respective bags.

“All these years. All these years, and I was that clueless, that hopeful.” Brooklyn muttered as she gave her a cruel smile. “I can’t believe (Y/N) (L/N) knew you better than I did.”

Aemilia’s face flushed bright red.

“Your ladies in waiting are going to relieve themselves of their position now.” Brooklyn carefully dragged the non responsive blonde to her feet, holding both of their bags and contacting her personal driver. She curled her lip. “Please feel free to march your way to the throne by yourself, your highness.”

The door slammed shut behind them, and for a moment, the residence was silent once more.

Then, with an anguished cry, Aemilia picked up whatever textbooks were nearby and vaulted them at her walls.

First, her future husband. Next, her friends. What would that (h/c) haired bitch steal next? Her life?

“No. No. I won’t let it get that far. I would never let you get away with it!” She screamed, hurling another book.

Her bedroom door swung open and her father ducked the incoming textbook. “Aemilia! What on earth is going on? Brooklyn and Constance just left looking extremely upset, did you three have an argument?”

She dropped the rest of the textbooks, raced to her father and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Daddy, I need you to call up the special squadron.”

Aloysius Augustus held his daughter’s hands and warily pried them off of him. “Whatever for?”

Aemilia flashed him a maniacal grin. “Namjoon just texted me. He says his father believes he’s found in another soul in dire need of discipline.”

——————————————————————

Ever since engaging in this battle of wills with Aemilia, you tell yourself that there isn’t anything that could surprise you anymore.

Yet the actions of your classmates the next morning were strange. Stranger than you could possibly anticipate.

You entered the classroom and found a group of girls standing in a huddle around a desk, whispering to one another.

The room was strangely empty. Neither Mana nor Jimin had arrived yet, nor had some of your other classmates known for coming to school relatively early.

The girls noticed your entrance and quieted immediately. You found this suspicious, so you decided you wanted nothing to do with them. You shifted your gaze away from them and kept on walking to your seat.

That is, until you heard one of them scoff loudly in your direction.

“I mean, just look at her. She walks around the school as if she’s better than us, just because Ms. Diivi had Jimin sit next to her.”

You froze but their tittering only got louder.

The girl that scoffed before, a classmate of yours named Seph, left the group and stood in front of you with crossed arms.

“You’re not anything special, (Y/N). You shouldn’t mistake yourself.”

The others seemed to agree with her as, soon enough, they left the desk one by one to surround you.

“It’s really pathetic how you practically beg for Jimin’s attention.”

“The other day, when you made him give you his sweater? It was really embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I could hardly stand to watch.”

They imitated your shivering as they laughed, making it look as though you were having a seizure.

“You used to be tolerable at the least, but Jimin transferred to our class and you finally decided to take the opportunity to climb the ranks, huh?” Another sneered.

You could hardly move. You were stuck in place, the words swimming around in your head.

Externally, you stared down at the ground in confusion, but internally, you were shocked. You couldn’t believe the accusations the girls were coming up with.

Even after everything this town had been through, the Kim brothers still had some sort of deluded fan club...and now they were coming after you.

“What the hell?” You finally said, lifting your head to look each of them in the eye. “Why would I go begging for his attention?”

“Don’t try to deny it, bitch.” Seph snarled. “You used to keep your head down and mind your business like the rest of us, but now, all of a sudden, you’re relishing in the spotlight.”

“We’ll see just how much Jimin likes you soon enough.” One of her lackeys snickered.

They left you where you stood, turning their attention to the doorway.

You could see Jimin from the glass window in the door, waving goodbye to Taehyung as he headed off to his respective classroom. He reached down to twist the knob and pulled the door open.

Had you blinked, you would have missed the entire thing.

Seph pulled a bucket out from under the desk they were all crowded around and threw its contents all over Jimin.

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth in shock as he was doused in water from head to toe. His uniform was soaked and his hair lost its floofy nature, flattening down over his eyes.

One of the girls ripped the bucket away from her and shoved it into your hands. They moved back in tandem, shocked gasps hiding their deeds as Jimin wiped water out of his eyes, which landed on you holding the bucket.

“(Y/N)...?”

You were just as shocked as he was, mouth agape. The evidence was completely against you.

He looked up at you with teary eyes. He looked hurt, so angry, you figured there was no way you were going to get out of this.

“I didn’t do it, why would I?” You protested.

“Jimin, are you alright?” The ringleader picked back up, skillfully concealing a triumphant smirk with an open look of concern. “(Y/N), how could you do such an awful thing? Especially after he’s been nothing but kind to you...”

Wow, does she get lessons from Mrs. Kim or something?

You dropped the bucket in surprise. “No! Jimin, it wasn’t me, I promise, they just grabbed the bucket out of nowhere-”

This is it. My mother is going to have to bury her daughter young. I failed to provide for her, or thank her for everything she’s done for me. Your thoughts couldn’t stop racing.

“Even for a prank, that’s a bit much, isn’t it?” They continued behind you.

“She’s been acting all this time. I’m not surprised.”

“He treated her so well and it all just blew up in his face.”

“That’s just like her.”

“She’s lying directly to his face, how fake.”

“Disgusting.”

They continued spouting lies in front of Jimin, telling him about how you were only using him, how you would curse his very existence behind his back.

Jimin approached you, his wet shoes squeaking on the tile floors.

You backed up, intimidated, bumping the back of your leg against another desk and falling to the floor.

...Would begging help?

When you finally looked up at him, begging felt like an appealing option.

Jimin’s eyes glistened, chocolate colored irises now hardened and flashing gold.

They were even colder than the ones you’d seen in your dreams, and you felt the temperature around you drop considerably.

You must have been going crazy with terror, something that wasn’t completely amiss in your town. The girls behind you were feasting on the fearful expression in your eyes.

Then, right as you were about to stand, Jimin gently put his hands on your elbows and guided you up.

To their surprise, he tugged you to your feet, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and pulled you in for a hug.

“You must have been so scared, weren’t you, (Y/N)?” Jimin whispered in your ear. “Those rats dared to mess with you. They tried to come between us with petty rumors and tricks. It’s okay, I’m here now. I believe you.”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back, the water from his uniform seeping into the front of yours. “I’ll make sure you have nothing to fear.”

Jimin pulled away from the hug, smiling at you. He then turned to face the girls, and with that same chilling smile, spoke.

“You all enjoy playing pranks, yes?”

The girls’ expressions changed in a matter of seconds, from snickers and taunts to tearful pleads.

Seph could hardly pick her jaw up off the floor. “Jimin! It was (Y/N), we all saw her-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You heard a low chuckle sound from the doorway and whipped your head towards the sound.

“I saw everything with my own eyes.” Hoseok stood in the entrance, his arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame.

When had he gotten there?

“And quite frankly, I don’t take too kindly to you lying about what happened to my darling little brother.” His famed smile slipped from his face as he stared down the girls with more hatred than you’d ever seen him possess.

“Jimin...” you reached out to get his attention, but he couldn’t pry his gaze away from the detestable scum that stood before him.

How quickly the tables had turned, you thought as you watched them cower.

Jimin calmly walked toward her and tucked his hand underneath her chin, yanking her ear to his mouth.

He directly whispered into Seph’s ear, but everyone in the room besides (Y/N) heard the same thing, the message pulsing loud and clear inside their heads.

“I’ll make you wish you had never done that.”

He left the group huddling against one another in fright.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” Hoseok smirked and kicked off the door, walking off with his hands in his pocket.

You stood, incredulous at what had just happened.

“Jimin.” You lay your hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his, turning to meet your gaze. His eyes were wide with expectation.

“Let’s go see your brother, we can get you some new clothes.” You said softly. He smiled serenely and nodded, dragging you to the door by the hand.

Before you could step out, however, he turned around to face them and glowered. “Clean this mess up.”

Seph whimpered and knelt down to pick up the bucket. The other girls scrambled to collect paper towels to dry the floor.

You watched them, trying to conjure up some form of sympathy. That could have been you, cowering beneath him. Moments ago, that was you.

Frighteningly enough, that familiar, heart-strengthening feeling made no appearance. There was no hatred, no remorse. You felt nothing as you were dragged away to the third floor.

Jimin knocked on the door to the student council room, smiling as he spotted his brother. Namjoon, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Hyung! I need a new uniform.”

He stepped back to let the two of you enter. Jimin released your hand and beelined for the atrium, grabbing a new shirt and a pair of pants. He then stepped into the bathroom and loudly shut the door.

“Do you mind telling me what that was all about?” Namjoon looked down at you for a moment before his eyes flew up and he stared at the wall with newfound interest. “Feel free to grab a change of clothes as well.”

You followed his gaze and jumped at just how wet the front of your shirt had gotten. “Thanks,” you muttered, desperately hiding your blush.

I’m seriously finding myself back here too often.

You got another polo from the closet and left the door open as you changed, praying that Jimin wouldn’t leave the bathroom and that Namjoon wouldn’t walk around the corner. To keep him busy, you filled him in on what had happened moments before.

When you were finished, you stepped out into the main room with your wet shirt folded over your arm. Namjoon leaned against the wooden table with his arms crossed. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or punch someone.

You glanced at Namjoon and thought back to the way he looked at the people around him.

It quickly dawned on you how bothered you were by Namjoon’s view of everyone around him as some sort of game.

He always wore an amused smile on his face: when he was looking at his mother in his family home, when he heard what Constance did to you, when he saw all of the students worrying over Chance, and whenever Aemilia and her antics were brought up.

He probably thought he was so clever at hiding it, at being the misfortunate yet accomplished gentleman that everyone perceived him to be, but you saw right through his act.

“The audacity they have to dare make such a ruckus on school property,” He clenched his jaw. “Don’t worry. They will surely receive proper punishment.”

You nodded, eyes glazing over with indifference.

You were too grateful that it was not you or Mana and too exhausted to be concerned with the affairs of other students.

They should have been prepared for this, at the very least. You were only worried about the well being of you and your loved ones.

Did that make you incredibly selfish? Did that make you just like...them?

A hot flash of anger rose in you and died as quickly as it had appeared.

Perhaps Namjoon’s act angered you because it was so similar to, no, better, than your own.

Your face twisted in response to your thoughts. “Thanks for the help. I’ll be sure to pay you back. Tell Jimin I’ll see him in class,” you muttered and bowed then left, needing to separate yourself from them as soon as possible.

Namjoon watched you leave, intrigued by the sudden look of displeasure you wore. “...She noticed,” he chuckled to himself.

"She must not have liked it,” Jimin said as he walked out, fully changed. His hair was still a little wet, but it was nothing he couldn’t take care of later.

Namjoon scoffed.

His little brother subsequently seized opportunity of your absence to explain to Namjoon just how delightful you looked in front of him.

“She looked as though she were about to beg, hyung. As gorgeous a sight as it was, those lower beings had the nerve to send her to her knees.” Jimin growled. “They terrified her, made her think I was going to hurt her.”

“What would you like to do with them?” Namjoon asked him as he leaned against the wooden table, a familiar smirk on his face.

By the end of homeroom, those girls were removed from your section. By the end of lunch, they had left your class and the school completely.

——————————————————————

The final bell rang and you lifted your head off your desk. You’d been trapped in your thoughts since earlier today, but your class schedule had given you no time to focus on your inner monologue.

Someone’s finger tapped your shoulder and you snapped out of your thoughts, directing your attention to them.

A freshman stood before you nervously and passed you a folded piece of paper.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

The kid nodded and scurried out of the classroom.

You unfolded the paper, reading the slightly disorganized handwriting.

You and me, (L/N). Show up alone. Rooftop. 4 pm.

You didn’t even need to ask the kid who it was from.

“This is the game you’re going to play?” You mumbled to yourself. “You still can’t even confront me face to face.”

Unfortunately for you, you already were alone. Mana never came to school today, as they had gone with their father to visit their grandmother at her nursing home, and Jimin was going to be in robotics club for the next forty-five minutes or so.

Then again, Brooklyn and Constance didn’t look like they were attached to Aemilia’s hip today either. The brunette spent all of lunch sending her a bunch of particularly nasty glares from across the cafeteria.

You eyed the clock. fiddling with your phone. After several minutes of deliberation, you opened it to text your mother that you would take yourself home today.

Let’s get this over with.

Approximately thirty minutes later, you shouldered your back pack on and made your way to the school staircase.

You texted Mana an update on where you were going and what you were going to do, just in case. After a second thought, you also texted Jimin.

They must not have had their phones on them because they didn’t text back immediately, so you locked yours and put it in your pocket.

When you finally arrived to the rooftop, you saw Aemilia standing near the edge, strawberry blonde ponytail swinging in the autumn breeze.

You already weren’t feeling well and wanted to go home several hours ago. Alas, you were here.

Your school rooftop was moderately large; appropriate, considering the size of the building. There was nothing up there but a few stacked, forlorn chairs, scattered materials, and blocks of concrete that functioned as storage spaces.

“What do you want, Aemilia?” You asked tiredly.

She didn’t say anything, nor did she turn around. You walked a couple steps closer to her and stopped. “Hello?”

“Did you enjoy yourself, (Y/N)?” She asked, her back still facing you.

You squinted in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you enjoy taking everything away from me? Everything that I deemed mine?” Aemilia finally turned to face you.

On the outside, she looked no different than she had a couple of days ago, but her eyes seemed...hollow.

“I didn’t take anything from you.” You pointed out. “Though, it sounds like you finally realized how skilled you are at pushing people away from you. That has nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t lie to my face.” She croaked out a laugh. “Don’t you dare claim that you haven’t stolen anything of mine.”

Her gaze turned malicious. “I thought you’d be a bug. Small, easy to crush. I wanted to make you even more insignificant than you already were. Unidentifiable.”

“But the harder I tried, the more I failed to crush you. I wanted to rub you into the dirt, but you kept on escaping unblemished.” She gazed in bored ire at her own two hands as though there was something on them that only she could see.

“So I realized, if I can’t crush you, then I’ll just have to destroy you. Completely.”

Foreign hands grabbed your arms with a vice and you started, immediately fighting to pry them off.

“Are you fucking serious? What are you doing?” You voice was a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Had your greatest fear finally come true? Were the Kims actually going to make an example of you?

“I’m simply executing my right as an Augustus. I am removing anyone who is a threat to the Kim’s empire. My future empire.” She calmly remarked, nodding tonce o whoever was behind you.

No. She was doing this for her own purpose. Her sense of order, of what was right in the world.

“Aemilia! You can’t do this!” Your voice raised in pitch and your breathing increased, your blood pumping faster and faster by the second. The hands on your arms were growing tighter and tighter.

“Oh, (Y/N). I tried to warn you several times. You didn’t listen.” She chided with false disappointment. “You did this to yourself.”

“Are you scared? Have you now realized your wrong doing? What a shame.” You watched in horror as a deranged smile crept its way onto her face and Aemilia threw her head back in laughter. “It’s already too late!”

There was no time for her descent into madness.

You stilled for just a second, then rocked your head back and successfully slammed it into your captor’s. There was a low grunt from behind you and the person let you go. You took off without a second thought.

You didn’t even bother trying the school door, as you knew it would be blocked.

Instead, you ran past Aemilia, shoving her aside as hard as you could, in the direction of the roof’s edge.

The strawberry blonde fell, but her laughter didn’t pause--if anything, it only rose in volume.

You realized the person had regained control of themself, as they came barreling after you.

Yet you also knew that one floor below you, there was a balcony informally used by all the students as a multipurpose space. To your knowledge, it consisted of old blankets and furniture.

I’d rather take my chances with an old table or couch than these bastards, you thought as you ran towards the eaves.

The closer you got, the harder your heart beat in your chest. You were terrified. But somehow, under all the fear, you were able to rationally think and suppress your fears.

You willed yourself to keep running and, before you could think about it, threw yourself over the edge.

You were in the air for about three seconds before your captor grabbed you by the jacket and stopped your descent. With surprising strength, they yanked you up and backward, tackling you to the floor.

Your body met the concrete with a harsh slam and you yelled out in pain. Hopefully, you had received nothing other than a few nasty bruises.

Aemilia’s laughter had quieted by now and she stood on her feet. She brushed her clothes off with a pleased grin.

“Nice try, sweetie. Mr. Byun, why don’t you give dear (Y/N) here a reminder on what happens should she mess with the Augustus family?” She crooned.

Your captor pinned your hands behind your back and shifted so that they were kneeling on your arms, bones digging into your back. He grabbed you by the hair and slammed your head repeatedly into the concrete.

It hurt.

It hurt more than when you sprained your ankle that one time walking to a monthly meeting and had to continue walking on it for the rest of the evening.

It hurt more than when your mother healed a particularly deep cut of yours by stitching it up herself because she couldn’t afford to take you to the hospital.

It hurt more than seeing your mother’s face whenever you asked about your father.

Everything hurt.

You couldn’t even cry out in pain as it would take up too much of your effort, effort that you didn’t have to spare.

“Thus, I declare myself the victor of our little battle of wills.” Aemilia chirped, not at all disturbed by the violence occurring in front of her.

There was something hot running down your forehead. After a couple of blinks, red crept into your eyes, falling down your face with your tears.

“Your pride’s going to be the death of you.” You choked out, then winced as the Mr. Byun kicked you harshly in the stomach.

“Should my time arrive, at least I will go out in a blaze of glory.” She said brazenly, beaming with triumph. As she bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, her strawberry blonde hair turned a shocking red.

You blinked blood out of your eyes and squinted up at Aemilia, not that it helped as your blurry vision kept her form shifting in and out of focus.

“Yet I can’t say the same for you.”

Then the grip in your hair tightened and your face met concrete for the last time, your entire world going dark.

Halfway across the campus, Kim Jimin turned his phone on and felt his heart drop to his stomach as his eyes landed on your text message.

——————————————————————

hey y’all! whew this is a long one--i’m sorry for taking longer than normal to update! thank you all so much for your enthusiasm and love! i adore reading your theories and comments :D i hope you all enjoy this chapter! feel free to let me know what you think will happen next~

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy @queenceline22 @kokofikats @taeyohonic @creatorspalace @supertweetycherry @anachikartadze

#yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere kim namjoon #yandere kim taehyung #yandere kim seokjin #yandere jung hoseok #yandere min yoongi #Yandere jeon jungkook #yandere park jimin #yandere ot7 x reader #yandere x reader #yandere high school #high school au #bts cult au #supernatural #supernatural creature au #yandere jhope #yandere rm #yandere v x reader

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twstoric · 4 years ago

Text

take a leap with me

𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅: Hello! First off your writing is simply amazing and I’m wishing the best for your blog! Is it alright if I can request scenarios of Jamil, Trey, and Leona and their first time having sex with their s/o?

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: jamil viper x gn!reader, trey clover x gn!reader, leona kingscholar x gn!reader

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: fall deeper in a world that’s only filled with the two of you

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘(𝕤): none! fluffness and teasing remarks

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 1.6k (total)

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: thank you so much!! i’ll try my best ;; i hope you’ll like it!

Jamil Viper

“I don’t know what I should…” You trail, brows furrowed in concentration. Figuring out how to navigate NRC can’t possibly be compared to how much more complex your current situation is—well more or less..

Jamil’s lips pull in an awkward smile; not sure what to say to reassure you. He’s laying on his bed, head propped by soft pillows as you straddle his legs—or at least that’s what the plan was. You’re still standing on your knees, looking down at Jamil’s legs like a complex puzzle.

“I’m sure it’s not something you should think too hard about,” he tries, tentatively placing his hands on your thigh and he moves to hold your hips when you don’t pry his hands away. “Just do what makes you feel good.”

A small pout settles on your lips as you let Jamil press you down against his crotch; blushing at the hardness already rubbing against you. He looks so composed despite being hard.. Amazing or unbelievable, you’re not sure…

Your nails rake over the exposed skin of his hip, the sexy dip of his v-line leading to a treasure worth more than the world’s riches. You hook your fingers on his pants, tugging lightly. “I want to make you feel good, though..”

Not receiving a reply, you look up at Jamil’s face looking back at you impassively. You give him a small smile, “Too much?”

He shakes his head, sighing lightly and suddenly his hips buck into yours. Your breath hitches in surprise, heat spreading all over your body as Jamil trails his hands up your sides. “No.. too sexy, actually,” he explains and you feel awfully embarrassed by the matter-of-fact tone he used.

Jamil smiles soon after his comment, nudging you up on your knees and you watch—as if under his spell—as the long-haired male slowly pushes down his pants. A smirk blooms on his face, dangerously handsome, and his hands settle back on your waist. It makes sense why he insisted you take your undergarments off first…

You don’t need anymore promptings, impossibly turned on and body aching to feel Jamil’s everything. Your breath hitches when his cock easily breaches your insides, sliding in smoothly like he belongs there- like he belongs in you—joined together body and soul.

His fingers take hold of yours, lacing your fingers together as he allows you to adjust yourself on his cock. “Y- you’re a lot bigger than I thought,” you murmur, a blissed sigh leaving your lips when you’re fully seated on his cock.

A breathless laugh leaves Jamil’s lips in reply, fingers squeezing yours in comfort as his face flushes. “You’re also a lot tighter than I thought,” he teases, rolling his hips and a violent shiver rakes through your body.

“Now relax,” he whispers, pulling your joined hands closer to his lips. The breath in your lungs disperses and you clench down on the cock inside you on instinct as Jamil, eyes watching you like a snake, takes your fingers in his mouth. He kisses your fingers like a favored jewel, mouth hot on your skin. The corner of his lips tugs upwards;

“Let me take care of you.”

Trey Clover

“Do you want me to take the lead this time?” Trey questions, an easy smile on his face as he hovers over you. His shirt is already unbuttoned; revealing lean figure and firm muscles. His belt is discarded somewhere in the roomーthrown away in your haste after finally deciding to share this moment together.

You can feel your face flushing; fingers tangled in the bedsheets under you because you’re not sure what to do with your hands. “What should I say to that..?” You reply instead, giving him a small smile and Trey chuckles softly.

He inches closer to you, nudging his nose against yours and your face scrunches in embarrassment but a small laugh leaves your lips. Much better. “You could say things like.. ‘Of course, Trey’ or ‘Yes, Trey anything for you, Trey’ whichever is fine with you.”

You grin, biting back a laugh and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. With no struggle (not that he wants to move away to begin with), Trey lets you pull him; lips descending on yours like a perfect collision. His kisses are always so sweet, handling you like an absolute rule he’ll follow without question.

“Please take care of me, Trey,” you whisper when pulling away; internally smirking at the flush on his face from your words.

A wry smile spreads on his face as Trey moves to your side. “Well that’s a lot better than what I suggested,” he mumbles, patting your shoulder blade and you turn to your side; facing away from him. “I’ll be sure to follow all your commands.” With a final laugh, the green-haired settles behind you.

“It’ll be better if I could see you, isn't it?” You question but you don’t make any other protest as Trey’s fingers snake around your waist; unlacing your pants. His fingers dip past the waistband of the shorts you’re wearing and pushes the material down along with your undergarments. You kick the soft cotton away and Trey bucks his hips into yours.

The vice leader presses a feather light kiss against your neck, moving to remove his pants that’s become too constricting. “I thought you asked me to take care of you- I’m doing it now, you know?” A small hiss leaves his lips, breathing heavily when the cool air hits his exposed cock; painfully hard because of you. The things you do to him...

“You can always take the lead next time.”

An embarrassed sound leaves your mouth; hands covering your face to hide your embarrassment despite Trey not facing you. “Don’t be a perv,” you scold, holding no real bite and just a way to hide your fluster. But a warm feeling settles in your stomach at the prospect of Trey wanting to do this again with you…

You let Trey lift one of your legs up, closing your eyes to focus on the way his cock brushes against your ass; already hard. “Relax for me,” his lips are against your ears, kissing down the skin of your neck as Trey positions your bodies.

His cock stretches your insides perfectlyーyour insides clenching down on the intrusion and Trey breathes a satisfied sigh. Your chest constricts with a sudden pressure but you feel the overwhelming adoration for the man behind you.

The first thrust is gentle, taking everything slow and building a steady rhythm. As promised, Trey takes care of you thoroughlyーmaking love to you all night.

Leona Kingscholar

“You’re so quiet suddenly,” Leona comments, pulling your pants down the curve of your ass.

You don’t retort playfully as you normally do, burying your face in the sheets of Leona’s soft bed. Your hips are raised slightly, held up by the pillow under your stomach as your front presses against the bed sheets.

After a beat of silence, feeling Leona dribble something cool against your skin, you speak up; “What should I say in this situation?” You gulp, a small moan leaving your lips when Leona inserts a finger inside your warm hole. “Pl- please be gentle.” You can’t help but warn, thighs quivering when Leona’s fingers curl. You thought his nails would’ve been a hindrance but looks like Leona cut his nails already.

You moan, the sound embarrassed as you bite the bed sheets. He prepared himself for you, didn’t he? There’s no way he would cut his nails just like that which meansー”O- oh!” You gasp, head thrown back slightly as a second finger spreads you wider.Your eyes struggle to stay opened, mind already clouding with the thoughts of something bigger stretching you. You clear your throat, “When did you cut your nails..?”

Leona blinks, curling his fingers again and smirking at the way you’re softly panting. “Hm.. I wonder. Probably the other week, I guess.” The smirk on his face stretches wider and his fingers inside you brushes a spot that makes you squeal. “You have to always be prepared, don’t you?” He laughs, playing with your insides. Patience, he thinks, is so fucking difficult.

An impossible feat, really, especially when you’re writhing under him, just eager to plunge in this new step with him. But he needs to make sure you’ll be able to take him properly. He can’t fuck upーnot when it comes to you.

Your body burns with a desire to reach ecstasy; hips bucking back onto Leona’s fingers as he preps you thoroughly. Feeling satisfied with his work and growing impatientーfuck patienceーthe dorm head pulls your hips back by grabbing the pillow under you; using the edges to raise your ass higher.

The pillow is rather large and firm so it’s enough to rest your weight on it as Leona places his hands on your hips. The tip of his cock rubs against you; teasing and torturous all the same. He lays on top of you, biting your shoulder playfully as his cock finally catches your opening.

Slowly, with a care only shown to a trusted mate, Leona eases himself into you. His forehead presses against your nape, lips kissing your skin as he stuffs you full. The stretch is excruciating, body unprepared for the large intrusion and small whimpers leaves your throat.

Leona grunts, licking and marking your neck with soft pressureーcomforting his mate. “Relax for me… You’re doing so goodーgh… You can take me. Just relax,” he shushes softly, the way your insides accommodate him feels heavenly. Convincing Leona that you were definitely made for him just as he’s made for you.

His hands take yours, easing your hold on the bed and lacing your fingers together. The first thrust drawls a moan from the both of you. Pleasure and adoration coursing through your veins as Leona holds on to you tightly; unwilling to let go.

#jamil viper #trey clover #leona kingscholar #scarabia #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #jamil x reader #trey x reader #leona x reader #twst n/sfw #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #gn!reader #request #twst x reader

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palmett-hoes · 4 years ago

Text

i said in this post that i have original characters and backstories for neil's extended family. it took me,, a really long time to write it all down. it's been a full month since the original post, and this is still just a run through of things, not full prose, which i might be interested in doing one day but not anytime soon

now, some things to note about what i'm writing, why, and how. methodology, basically. this might not have come through yet in my posts, because i just don't post about my half-finished ideas, but i research a LOT. i like to base what i write about on real life, even if it's just headcanons and fanfic

also, i love helping people with research, so if anyone wants help with research for a fic or just their personal headcanons or anything hit me up!!

as a white person who wants to write characters from different ethnic backgrounds, i feel i have a responsibility to really do my due diligence and research as much as possible to consider things from every angle. and part of that for me is making sure that every character of color has a backstory. they don't just appear somewhere, i have to give them a reason for being there and a story for how they got there, even if that's not what i write their STORY about. people, come from places, basically. i follow a lot of demographic census information and population averages, as well as a lot of history, from as general as transatlantic trade in the last 500 years to as specific as the changes in a single city in a certain year

talking to other writers in the fandom i know i'm a little overzealous, but this is what gives me peace of mind to feel like i am putting the effort in to get things right

so anyway, as for what that means here:

i like writing neil as mixed black/jewish. it works well thematically for his character, as well as just what FEELS right for how i visualize him in my head

only, that can't simply come from nowhere. we know who his parents are. they need to also be poc for neil to be one, and they're a complicated pair to handle in that lens

one choice i made about that, for multiple reasons, is that everything about neil's parents' backgrounds should mirror each other. it can't simply be that one if them is black and one is jewish, or even that mary is both and nathan is white, because that says something i don't want to say any way you slice it. additionally, i want both facets of his ethnicity to be important to neil, and i feel as though he would want to ignore the half of himself from his father.

so: they both have to be mixed, giving them a sort of,, ideological equal footing, as it were. that way, i can also write three different experiences, rather than accidentally implying that This is what being black is, or This is what being jewish is, or This is what being mixed is. and that's also important to me, even if it's just in my head or not even directly addressed. it's still a big consideration of mine anytime i write about any of them

now, finally, onto mary and nathan! i'll put it below a cut because this is already long enough, the under-the-cut is much longer, and i don't want to wear out your thumbs if you don't care

mary hatford

canon timeline, neil was born in 1988. as a tentative number let's say mary was around 30 when he was born, meaning she would be born in the 50s. say her parents were roughly the same age, so they were born around the 20s

like i said, what's happening where in history is very important to me for building these backstories, and major historical events tend to have a lot of influence on population shifts. and well,, jews and europeans in the early-to-mid 20th century? there's no getting around involving world war II. nothing explicit, but it is mentioned and part of the story

mary’s paternal family are the hatfords. they're from the british west indies, largely jamaica, but they've been involved with shipping and trade all over the trans-atlantic region for generations.

they have a complicated relationship with the british empire, having both worked for them and against them at various points, sometimes both at once. similarly, they've tried multiple times through the generations to relocate the family to england permanently, but have been turned away or pressured out

they associate england and the british empire with power, and they both disagree with and desire that power in degrees which vary person to person. they do have a general idea between them though that living in england is a sign of status and authenticity, and while they don't want to leave jamaica permanently they do want their center of power to be in england, and there is a deep resentment against the anglos for not allowing them to stay permanently despite their wealth and influence, the fact that their work will always be looked down on and seen as lesser

i did come into building the hatfords with the primary idea of them being black british, and looking into the organized crime connection second. them being jamaican/west indies is a reference to the jamaican posse, who have a large presence in the london crime scene, although that's really the only connection. the hatfords aren't really yardies in any sense

the hatfords' status as organized crime is a little iffy. mostly they skirt the line between legal and illegal, owning legal trading companies and doing plenty of legal shipping. their main business in the criminal underworld is being middlemen moving supplies for other groups. they have a lot of contacts, and they serve an invaluable role in international smuggling, but they rarely get their own hands dirty. they move things from one place to the other and don't question too much what it is, though they don't deal in people

mary's father is named samuel hatford (first name in reference to samuel bellamy, the gentleman pirate king of the early 18th century). he was born in England, raised largely in Jamaica, then moved back to England as a teenager/young man. he's light-hearted and a bit idealistic for someone from a crime family, seeing the best in people even when they're cold and often believing in principle over profit, which at times put him in conflict with what's best for business

he almost enlisted in world war II, but instead convinced the family to work as weapons and supplies runners supporting the Allies and guerilla resistance groups

mary's mother is named cima ben nahman (ladino/judeo-spanish/sephardic names, doesn't really reference anything or anyone in particular). She's is an algerian jew. Born in algeria (city undecided, though algiers had the largest jewish community at the time), she moved to france for a few years as a young woman, probably for education. she joined anti-fascist organizations which became resistance groups once germany invaded

she's stoic, and has a ruthless mind for strategy. like most algerian jews, she's caught between her home country and its colonizer. the french empire played the algerian muslim majority against the jewish minority as a way to create infighting and distract the algerians from uniting and turning against them, but the algerian jews also then became reliant on the french for protection. (it's a really, really complicated situation)

cima sort of hates them both, both algeria and france. her only allegiance is to being jewish

(contrast this to samuel, who feels that he is BOTH british and caribbean, even when those two identities may be in conflict)

cima and samuel met when samuel provided weapons and supplies to cima's militia group. he took particular interest in them and went out of his way to help, above and beyond the other groups the hatfords were supplying

in the waning period of the war, cima was seriously injured, i'm currently thinking a land mine accident. she survived, but her recovery was slow. she lost an arm and had burns across half her torso, neck, and face. samuel brought her to england supported her through her recovery. in the hospital, they spoke a lot about why they each chose to fight, and the ways they did because neither were formal soldiers fighting for a country. samuel was in many ways fighting for an ideal, while cima was fighting for her people. cima also talked to him a lot about judaism and religion during this time, which samuel took an interest in. eventually, cima decided to stay

they got married. samuel converted, which was somewhat controversial with his family. however, cima agreed to join the family business, where she became an integral but sometimes ruthless member. after algerian independence, she brought some of her trusted family and community into the fold as well, some moving to england and others to france

both cima and samuel believed very heavily in responsibility, though what it meant for each of them was different. cima believed in preparedness and follow-through, samuel believed in family and protection, doing what's right outside of the bounds of the law. this contributed a lot to how they raised their children

when they were born, mary and stuart were raised in england (and i like to think they have an oldest brother). the hatfords were a big family, and influential, although careful about balancing the legal and less-legal sides of their business. the ben nahmans were smaller, and most of them were in france so mary and her brothers saw them less often. they were raised very religiously and culturally jewish, though close with the caribbean side of their family too, as well as being the first generation who were born and raised in england. this put them at a cross-section of three very different cultures, and was where mary first learned about changing and blending in with different groups

mary was the youngest and a little bit spoiled by her father, aunties, and uncles. her mother however was much less tolerant of her. clearly very affected by her time in the war, cima became extremely distrustful and suspicious, and tried to instill in her children a similar sentiment of secrecy and self-sufficiency, avoiding attention and casual relationships. she could be harsh on them, especially mary, who was the most resistant to this

growing up, mary was irresponsible and fun-loving, goading her brothers and cousins, getting in trouble, and starting fights. she didn't understand the tenuous balance of being organized crime, and at times put the whole family at risk by overestimating their sway. her mistakes affected the whole family but it was usually her mother who confronted her about them first and most harshly

she resented her mother's control, and didn't understand the reasons behind it. she also couldn't differentiate between the boundaries her mother sets as a result of her own trauma, and the necessary boundaries she set for the safety of the family, viewing them as one and the same, and leading her to hate any kind of control exerted over her

really, a lot of cima's character is just who mary ends up becoming after being married to nathan and being on the run. i like the story of a child becoming the parent they once hated. rather than learn from her mother, both her failures and her successes, mary becomes her, doomed to make the same mistakes. this is also why cima is wounded by a landmine, because mary dies in fire

---

nathan wesninski

nathan was HARD to come up with a story for, mostly because,,, WHY THE FUCK DOES THIS GUY WORK FOR THE JAPANESE YAKUZA

wesninski is a VERY polish name. the japanese-polish connection is,, not super strong

so anyway, working off the idea of the wesninski family being a polish jewish one, WHERE is he going to meet a japanese crimelord to get into a multi-generation debt/business arrangement with?

turns out, the answer is brazil

brazil actually has a large jewish population (roughly 10th largest in the world). it began with its colonization by the portuguese, but the 19th century to modern population largely comes from central and eastern europe. brazil ALSO has the largest japanese population outside of japan

also this story ended up being WAY more detailed and prosaic than samuel&cima's story, which is basically just bullet points. there's no reason for this i love both stories very much just for some reason the words flowed for me here and not there

to avoid having a second jewish story where wwII is prominent, the wesninskis get a page out of my own family's book: nathan's grandfather (neil's great grandfather) came to the americas fleeing the russian pograms around the turn of the 20th century

Wesninski came to brazil (city undecided, have a lot more research to do about individual cities in brazil). he had waardenburg syndrome(a hereditary genetic condition that can affect eyes and hearing) which runs very strongly in his family (his son, nathan, and neil will all inherit it), and he is completely Deaf. while he came to brazil alone, in his new home he connected both with the local jewish community and the local deaf community, and eventually marries another Deaf Jewish woman

eventually they were able to establish a kosher deli and restaurant in the city, one which became a common hangout for the Deaf community. then one day (probably around 1915), a group of japanese men came in, and kept returning

these were the moriyamas, recently arrived from japan, in a place with very few japanese people and businesses. they liked the wesninski deli because they didn't share a language with anyone in there, couldn't even be heard by most of them, and it would also be difficult for the authorities to question them. two layers of protection for a crime family in a vulnerable place

wesninski and the moriyamas were amicable to each other, but as they didn't actually have a way to communicate that was the extent of it. but the moriyamas were polite and payed well and didn't bother the other customers. als, as a jewish establishment, they had a lot of education resources, which were helpful to the moriyamas in learning about brazilian society, including beginning to understand portuguese

now, in japan, the moriyamas were a small yakuza family. they got driven out by their bigger and stronger and more established competition around the time when japanese immigration to brazil was just starting, so that was where they went. though they had little option in where they ended up, they also had little competition in establishing their business

i still have a lot of research to do about the moriyamas. about both how the yakuza operate and about how brazilian organized crime works, and about life in brazil for early japanese immigrants. so a lot of the moriyama details are pretty vague

now the wesninskis had a son, meyer (nathan's father. name in reference to meyer lansky, famous american jewish mobster of polish descent) who was around 14 when the moriyamas arrived. he himself was not fully deaf like his parents, though was hard of hearing and raised in the Deaf community. as he goes through his rebellious teenage years, well, the gangsters are right there

in the early days the moriyamas were still more concerned with mostly the japanese enclaves, but they had aspirations of expanding. meyer wasn't japanese, but he was helpful to the moriyamas who came into the deli to study. he was perceptive and bold, could keep a secret, knew his way around knives from working in the deli, and knew the city. he was a good asset to them, and he was interested in causing some trouble

over the next ten years or so, meyer got increasingly more involved, alongside the moriyamas becoming increasingly more established throughout the city. he goes from someone who helps out occasionally and relays information beyween parties to getting involved with minor shakedowns, bribery, evidence disposal. by the time he's in his 20s he's thoroughly enmeshed

his parents were older when they had him, and his father died relatively young, leaving meyer the store and his mother to take care of. they were vaguely aware of his connections to the moriyamas and didn't approve of what he did with them but he also kept the worst from them, and was always a diligent son, and the only one they had. he assured them no matter how far he went that he wasn't "really" part of the gang

"yakuza have tattoos, and see, ima? no tattoos. i'm still a good jewish son, not a gangster"

now the problem arises when meyer falls for camara da machado, a young Deaf woman who frequents the store

(based on/inspired by/FC yaya dacosta (where the name comes from) and rutina wesley)

she was a Deaf girl born to a hearing family who struggled to give her the support she needed, maybe even just a single mother, and she'd spent a lot of time alone at the deli from a young age (12-ish?). she was shy and quiet and a little bit of a shrinking violet, but the wesninskis became very fond of her. she started tentatively helping them out around the store which became a job. she was often included in family meals and holidays, and always had a bed in their apartment above the deli if she needed one, and more than once had helped patch meyer up after he got in trouble to hide the extent of it from his parents

she was a couple years younger than him but he'd always been sweet on her. and she'd had a crush on him from basically the moment she'd layed eyes on him. they'd known each for years and camara was basically family, and then one day when they were both in their 20s it just suddenly clicked for them

so meyer and camara fell in love. meyer was head of the house, had to keep the deli running, and had his mother, camara, and possibly camara's mother (undecided at this juncture) to worry about and he decided he didn't want to continue working with the moriyamas in case it dragged his family into danger. being a gangster was a fling of youth and he was ready to grow up

when he informed the moriyamas of this though, they,,, did not agree.

while MEYER might not have considered himself part of the gang, THEY didn't think he just got to walk away. he'd worked with them for too long and knew too much. there might even have been a desire to tie him to the family permanently through marriage. and well,, one man against a growing criminal empire can't do much

it was a huge shock to him, and made him truly realize how naive and reckless he'd been. he'd been a dumb kid who wanted to start some trouble, the moriyamas were career criminals. they expected that once you were in, you were in for life, and they did not take kindly to meyer disagreeing with this

he didn't know how to explain this to his family... so he didn't. they'd all told him they wanted him to stop, but he'd meant for the announcement to be a surprise. after learning that he would not be permitted to walk away, he chose to just hide it and continue with business as usual

it worked for a while, maybe a few years, a time during which the moriyamas were getting a lot more brutal as they got more established and increasingly looked to expand, putting them in competition with other gangs and greater law enforcement, until they were a true crime empire spread across whole regions of the country. meyer had lost a lot of esteem in their eyes by asking to leave, leading them to put him under increasing scrutiny and giving him more incriminating tasks, to ensure that he would be incriminated if he ever tried to turn them in. it's during this time that he first had to kill for them

then camara got pregnant

and meyer was terrified. he didn't know how the moriyamas would deal with a kid. the only marriages and children he knew of within the family were endorsed by the boss, many arranged by him, and he knew his wouldn't be approved. yakuza wives were heavily involved with the business too, and he absolutely did not want that for camara

he broke down and told her everything. she's horrified, and furious that he kept it from her, but she didn't want to give up her baby. it would be hard, but she believed they can keep it hidden, and if the moriyamas found out, maybe it wouln't be so bad?

(spoiler: it would)

they have a son, born natan da machado, under his mother's name

meyer and camara never got married. meyer was going to propose after he left the moriyamas but that obviously didn't happen. marriages were supposed to be blessed by the boss, and meyer never dared to ask. they already lived together, anyway

but with natan, they decided that meyer couldn't acknowledge him as his own. in the deli or in the streets, he didn't acknowledge natan. he was camara's bastard son, and meyer didn't want anything to do with him

it was a flimsy disguise at best. natan was mixed, but there was a strong enough resemblance to his father. even if his hair was a darker red or he had brown skin, they had the same eyes

they tried to keep him away from the moriyamas as he grew up, hoping they wouldn't see him and make the connection, but they also kept him very hidden in general, just in case. he spent a lot of time inside, with his grandmothers

and that was how natan grew up, feeling like a secret, his father cold and distant, only acknowledging him in their apartment. cut off from other kids his age. a hearing boy in a Deaf family (natan himself was HoH but still had most of his hearing. meyer and his maternal grandmother could both hear, but they had gotten out of the habit of it and mostly communicated through sign)

natan developed a deep feeling of resentment towards his father and shame about himself from a young age. he felt like a mistake, defective somehow. so wrong he had to be hidden away from everyone

there's only so long that you can hide a child, though, and when natan was around ten the moriyamas found out about him, and they were not happy.

they didn't like split attention or loyalty. they kept children and family under very tight wraps. they should be one hundred percent enmeshed in the moriyama empire, raised to be loyal and helpful in whatever way they were needed. the fact that meyer wanted and was willing to leave for this family, and then hid his son, was a huge betrayal

still, they gave him an opportunity to prove his loyalty: kill camara or the moriyamas would kill them all: her, natan, meyer, and both their mothers

but meyer couldn't do it, and instead he told camara to run and hope they didn't actually care enough to chase her down. and she did. and she couldn't take natan with her. (i haven't fully fleshed out why yet, currently thinking that meyer was given this ultimatium when they already had natan)

so camara left her son, and got away

i built the story of mary's mother as a reflection of mary's story if something had been different, and i built nathan's story the same way. his wife takes her son and runs away with him when the moriyamas try to take him from her. nathan's mother was in the same situation and left him behind

over the next forty years of his belonging to the moriyamas he gets to marinate in that resentment. from the father that ignored to the mother who ran away from him, he internalizes it as being something wrong with him, not the circumstances. the more he's taught to torture and kill and the more he excels at it, the more this belief gets cemented. he's good at killing, he was meant to kill. he's twisted and broken and wrong inside and he always was and his parents always knew

and then when it happens again but differently this time he throws away a decade and millions of dollars and his standing with his boss to hunt down his son and his wife because he didn't get to run away so why should they? why does mary love nathaniel more than camara loved natan?

from here, the exact detail's of nathan's story aren't quite solidified. whether he was raised by his father from then on or by his grandmothers (or whether his grandmothers left with his mother) or whether the moriyamas put him somewhere else entirely, but from then on he lived under the moriyamas' direct supervision, and they taught him how to turn a knife on a man

they took his mother's name from him, though, so he's natan wesninski, not natan da machado, because they own the wesninskis now

and when the moriyamas decided to expand beyond brazil when natan was a young man instead of a child, and settled on the east coast of the US, they renamed him nathan, because it sounded more "american"

---

so that's it. obviously there are still a lot of unfinished details in both stories, but they're strong enough at this point to stand on their own and i haven't changed or rethought a lot of the major details in a long time

i've become extremely attached to these OCs and their stories, and i hope they interest other people too. some day i'd like to write them out in prose properly, along with the story of nathan and mary meeting, but that'll be a while away considering the pace i move at

so until then i just wanted to put this out there

#aftg #tfc #neil josten #nathaniel wesninski #mary hatford #nathan wesninski #txt #my fics #my writing #my posts #black neil josten #jewish neil josten #cw gangs #cw organized crime #cw ww11 #cw wwII #long form post

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stressedoutcanary · 3 years ago

Text

Hold On - Jason Todd x Batgirl!Reader [PART 3]

What this includes: Violence, a combo of angst and fluff, and just to be on the safe side I’d say language.

Word count: 3.1k

A/N😋: I am so glad it’s finally finished, now it won’t be sitting in my drafts staring at me all day. Also forgive me for any mistakes, half of it is written at 3 AM

Part 1 , Part 2

•°•°•°•°

“This is it”, you breathed out, stopping your bike near a bush making sure that place was obscure enough. You placed the helmet on the handle and hopped off the bike. After taking a few steps forward and scouting the area, you clicked your comms back on.

“O care to give me the layout of what I am getting myself into, ‘cause we all know the last time didn’t go so well”

“Nightwing said you might call me for backup and now I owe him 20 uggh! Anyways onto the problem at hand, I’m picking up a few heat signatures from the basement area and the schematics of the building indicate a vent on the other side which might help you get in.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

There was no reply on the other end and you assumed she was looking into it. To your bad luck, it was far from it. You heard an all too familiar grunt and mentally cursed yourself for forgetting that it was an open line.

“(Y/N), I thought I made myself clear”, Bruce’s modulated voice came through which low-key made you want to strangle him with your bare hands.

“Oh come on B! Didn’t Alfred teach you that listening in on other people’s conversations is bad manners”

“We are 10 minutes out you will not be going in till we get there”

‘Like Hell I won’t’

“Hello? B? Your voice is breaking up. I can’t hear you! there is some interference in the signal. Batman?”

“Don’t- ” you clicked the comms off before he could finish his sentence and breathed a sigh of relief. ”Note to self after what you just did, avoid showing your face to anyone in the fam for at least a week.”

Snooping around, you came across the vent Babs told you about and you smirked to yourself, “Bless those idiots who decided to make an excess amount of vents throughout Gotham, plus no dumbass to shoot open the lock on any door, huh I’d say it’s going pretty good for me.”

After going through a very, very dusty vent, you silently dropped down to floor behind a goon and cleared your throat to draw his attention. As soon as he turned around, his jaw was met with your right hook, making him plummet to the ground. Grabbing him by the collar you inched closer to his face, which was yet again fully covered by a white mask.

“Alright no-face, tell me where Pyg is right now”, you made use of your deep modulated voice, making the man dart his eyes towards the far right corner of the room. You knew what that meant and without wasting any more time, you knocked him out and scurried over, finding a heavy door at the end. Somehow managing to push open the door, you were faced with a circular stairwell leading down.

“Well Oracle did say she got heat signatures down in the basement.”, you sighed and started taking calculated steps, making sure to check for any traps. ‘Why keep only one person to guard your supersecret creep-house? Either Lazlo is way too overconfident or way too crazy... Probably both.’, you thought, wheels turning in your head, hoping to make sense of the situation. As you went down, you could catch a faint sound of music. ‘Is that Opera?! Well at least it fits his M.O.’

The end of the stairwell opened into a large room. You hid behind one of wooden crates as your mind swiftly accessed the grim ambience; Pyg was sharpening his knife swaying along with opera music playing in the background but Jason was nowhere to be found. Your breath hitched and your blood ran cold, it felt as if the world around you was spinning.

‘What if... what if it’s too late’ Crouching down on the ground with your back to the crate your took in several deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You couldn’t think like that, not when you’re so close. You wiped the stray tear which escaped the tightness of your cowl and had trailed down your cheek. You tried to focus instead of jumping to conclusions.

You frowned upon noticing something odd on the wall in front of you, placing your palms on it, you gave it a slight push. To your surprise it paved way for an attached corridor which clearly didn’t come up in the schematics Oracle told you about. You slipped into the corridor, making sure that nobody saw you. Your feet froze for a slight second on the sight you were met with; cages like prison cells lined up in a row with people inside of them.

“The people who went missing”, you whispered to yourself, still reeling in the shock of it all. Upon hearing a familiar groan you sprinted across the pathway to the source, eyes scanning every inch of the person you found, the person you were here to rescue. You fumbled with the lock for a while, muttering curses under your breath until it clicked open. You dashed to his side and took a batarang out to cut the binds he was in.

“Jay if you die on me again, I swear I will kill you.”

“Been there, done that princess and honestly not a fan of it”, Jason croaked out, his reply came out weaker and voice barely above a whisper. It made your heart clench in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. You lifted your head up, you gave him a soft smile, gently brushing off the matted hair on his forehead,

“Jason I..”

‘Just tell him you love him you coward, It’s really not that hard’

“Jason I’m glad you’re okay”, you blurted out in way which was far from normal but he seemed way too tired to noticed.

‘COWARD’

“How did you get free?”, he inquired, thankfully interrupting your internal yelling.

“I didn’t? I literally just walked in here to get you out.”

“But I thought-”, Jason looked utterly confused as he rubbed his wrists to ease the pain caused by the rope.

“Well long story short. You got captured. I was saved by Harley and Ivy, had a nice chat with them, and then I might have been responsible for Batman’s high blood pressure, and then I emotionally blackmailed Nightwing into giving me your location and then here I am”

“Wha...Yeah I will just pretend I totally understand whatever the hell you just said.”, Jason sighed, he tried to stand up but his feet wobbled and if it wasn’t for you catching him on time h would’ve staggered to the ground.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mmhmm”, he hummed lightly leaning his weight on you. “Just a little dizzy, probably from the dehydration, It could also be because of the blood loss from the stab wound I got”

“The WHAT?!”, you looked at him like he was crazy.

“Oh yeah I think I kinda forgot to tell you that the creepy dude tried to cut me open but my armor got in the way so he stabbed me instead and went away saying he had to sharpen his knife or something like that”, he started to slur and you knew you had to get him back to the cave as quickly as possible. You helped him get up on his feet, slinging one of his arms over your shoulders and wrapping one of your arms around his waist.

“Oh my God! Jay, you don’t just bring this sort of thing up in casual conversation!”, you shook your head and started taking small steps with him towards the way you came from. Suddenly a loud crash was heard followed by a couple of screams making the both of you share a nervous glance.

“What was that?”

“Only one way to find out”, you said as you walked through the door back into the large room.

It was pure chaos, more like a free-for-all. Nightwing jogged up to you.

“We did say we were 10 minutes out didn’t we?”, he gave you a bright smile and swung Jason’s free arm over his shoulder to help you support him better.

“Good, now since you are here, hold him”, you shifted Jason’s weight towards Dick.

“Hey-”

“Don’t even”, he glared daggers at his elder brother, “What are you even doing? I feel like a baby being passed around”

You ignored Jason’s whining in the background and fixed your gaze on the one person in the room who would soon face your wrath. The rest had already cleared up the goons and Pyg was the only one left. You narrowed your eyes and cracked your knuckles, making your way over to him.

By the time you reached Pyg he was already backing away from Batman and one murderous looking Robin, turning around he tried to make a run for it but was ultimately met with your fist, a sickening crack was heard and no one was quite sure whether it was from his mask, his jaw or both. Pyg was out cold and you shrugged at the duo in front of you while Dick and Jason made their way over.

“Remind me never to get on her bad side ever again.”, Jason whispered as both the boys looked completely terrified of you. You walked over to Bruce and held out your hand. He didn’t seem to catch the drift, for being the world’s greatest detective, he was quite dumb sometimes.

“The keys to the batmobile, unless you want Mr. surprise-I-got-stabbed over here to bleed out.”

After placing Jason into the passenger seat you hopped into the driving one.

“Also there are people in the back, you know, the missing ones, so good luck with the clean up I guess.”, you called out before before closing the hood of the batmobile.

You were on the road heading straight for the cave when you realized Jason wasn’t answering your questions anymore.

“Jason?”, you stole a glance at him and he was as pale as a ghost, “Shit!”, you yelled as you jammed your foot on the accelerator.

•°•°

Jason woke up to the dull beeping of multiple monitors and by the looks of the place, he concluded he was in fact in the batcave. As he regained some control over his senses, he saw you sitting on a chair beside his bed. You were sound asleep but he could see worry etched on your face even in your slumber. Looking at you, Jason wished he had the courage to say what his heart felt instead he just went ahead taking your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. You stirred awake at that.

“Hey! You’re up!”, you stood up abruptly and hugged him tightly. To him it felt as if you were actually afraid of what might happen if you let go of him.

“I told you I don’t do dying anymore. It sucks.”

You finally pulled away from him, a smile tugging at your lips. Jason glanced at your hand, taking it in his once again, he ran his thumb over your bruised knuckles.

“I knew you had a mean right hook, guess I just forgot how mean”, Jason said smirking at you. You didn’t pull away from him as he had expected in his head instead you just scoffed at the statement.

“The next time you forget that, allow me to give you a reminder by demonstration Bird-Brain”, you called him by the name you often used back then. At first it was to annoy your very annoying best friend but then it stuck around but hadn’t used that nickname ever since he came back. You both realized that. A silence fell over the once playful conversation, his eyes found the celling and yours found your lap. After a while you cleared you throat to get his attention and he looked at you, his expressions were borderline unreadable.

“Jason I-I should go now, but don't worry I’ll get Alfred back here”, You got up and moved towards the door of the med-bay, scrunching your eyes shut you released a shaky breath.

‘It’s now or never (Y/N)’

“Jason when you get better, there is this place I have been meaning to take you to, with me of course.”

“Sure I’ll go”

“So tomorrow sounds good?”

“Tomorrow sounds good”, he repeated after you breaking into a grin. Your cheeks flushed and you had to take a sharp turn to hide the blush on your face. You mentally smacked yourself for behaving like a teen asking her crush out on a date for the first time.

•°•°

The next night Jason met you on the roof of the Wayne tower.

“Please tell me this isn’t the place you wanted to see with me”, he chuckled behind you and you turned around to give him a quick hug.

“It’s not that bad of a place, plus I can throw you off here too if you get on my nerves”, you laughed at his faux scandalised face.

“You wound me”

“In case you forgot you are already wounded, drama queen, plus its your lucky day, this is not where we will be spending our evening. Just follow me and don’t get lost on the way”, you winked and jumped off the edge, him following the suit.

When you both reached the place you had in mind, the place Jason cherished when he was Robin, the expression on his face was priceless. It was like a mixture of awe and surprise with a hint of sadness.

“How did you find out about this?”, Jason inquired after a while of reminiscing.

“Gee how indeed, ‘cause it cannot be the fact that I am detective who’s life is influenced by at least a dozen detectives and it’s most definitely not the fact that for me, you aren’t that difficult to figure out”

“Touché”

Jason chuckled at your usual playful sarcasm, his eyes were twinkling with something which felt more than just momental adoration and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile of your own. You made your way over to him, looking at the visible skyline for a brief moment, Jason watched as you sat down on the ledge with your legs dangling off, patting the space beside you gestured him to join you.

“I have a feeling we’re gonna be here for a while, so might as well sit down and get comfortable”, you shrugged as he nodded and sat down beside you, placing his elbow on his bent knee. You both enjoyed the few minutes of comfortable silence, watching cars pass by below and the moon lit starry sky above.

“I am starting to see why you liked it here”

“Yeah...”

“Alfred told me”

“Huh?”, Jason looked at you dumbfounded, trying to process your words.

“After you...were gone, Alfred told me, he told me that this was your happy place, though I still can’t believe you had a favorite gargoyle”, stifling a laugh you somehow managed to continue, “Anyway so as I saying, ever since I found out about it, I used to come here every night when I got free from patrol, come to think of it I still do, sometimes”

You could feel his heavy gaze boring into you making you immediately regret bringing up this conversation.

“Why?”, he finally inquired. You didn’t know whether to feel relived or be tense, but it was now or never, releasing a shallow breath you glanced at him, words flowing out on their own accord.

“Even back then I knew everyone dies at some point and all we can do is try and find some meaning in it, in the memories they leave behind and I guess me wanting to be here, it was a part of me trying to do that and it made me feel somewhat connected to you so I kept doing it; Coming here, spending any time I could spare and leaving before the crack of dawn and before I knew it, it had become a habit.”

“So you did miss me”, he gave you a sad smile and wrapped his hand around your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze.

“Of course I did you dumbass, I was best friend.”, you gave him a nudge and leaned your cheek on his chest, sighing deeply.

“The reason I avoided you after you came back was because I was scared”, you whispered, hoping it would sound less real that way. Jason pulled back a bit to take in your features and you could hear the strain in his voice, a hint of sadness in it.

“Scared of me?”

“Jason I wasn’t scared of you, I can never be, I was scared for you. I was afraid of losing you again. Every time you come back I lose you all over again and I am honestly tired of it and I thought that maybe if I kept my distance I--”

“Won’t get hurt again?”

“Yeah, something like that”

A moment passed where no one spoke anything, both of you running the scenarios of what might happen next in your brains. An idea clicked in your head and you abruptly got to your feet startling Jason in the process. Offering him your hand and a sheepish smile, you got him to his feet.

“I am tired of being scared Jason. I want this. I want us and for that I am willing to take a chance, are you?”, he stepped closer to you, his scent invading your senses.

“For you (Y/N), anything. You should know that by now, plus I feel the same way, I have for a while now”, Jason breathed out as he pulled you in for a deep kiss leaving you dizzy for a while after you pulled away for air. Placing your foreheads together, you found yourselves grinning like idiots yet again in the two successive nights. Jason’s stomach growled, sending you into a fit of laughter.

“Hungry?”

“You really gotta ask?”, raising an eyebrow, he tried to look offended but ultimately melted against you as you pressed your lips on his for a brief moment.

“I know a place”, you murmured, lips brushing against his and before he could register what was happening you already had a grapnel gun in your hands, smirking as you jumped off the ledge.

“Last one there is a rotten egg hoodie!!”

“Hey! But I don’t even know where it is!”

“Not my fault Bird-Brain!”

Jason jumped on after you, smiling to himself. Both of you were thinking the same thing ‘maybe this was finally the start of a new chapter; something new, something scary and something beautiful altogether’

°•°•°•°•

Tags: @ladyperceval

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jaxx-attack · 3 years ago

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Look how pretty she is when she falls down →

It wasn’t as if Jaxx particularly favored the days of the week to begin with, however waiting until next Thursday was truly hell on earth. The days between seemed to drag and drag, especially when she’d see Amelia at school, catching the girl brushing her hair over her shoulder as she chatted to her mini-me’s in the cafeteria, it was only when Jaxx felt her breath actually catch one of the times she caught the action that she knew she needed to come to her senses. She just had to wait a few more days then she could have Amelia all to herself again, to kiss her, touch her, make her blush and hopefully make her moan. Truly it was all that was getting Jaxx through the week were the thoughts of having Amelia in her arms once more.

Groaning as her alarm went off Jaxx dug around her bed, reaching for her phone to quickly shut it off only to instantly grin as she noticed the date. Thursday. Fucking finally.

Bringing up her text conversation with Amelia she quickly ran her fingers against the buttons.

“Sup Sleepin’ Beauty. I’ll see you after school.”

Was it still lame to put an x or an o? It totally was and she wasn’t that lame, no way in hell. Even if she really wanted to.

Rolling off of her mattress and on to the floor Jaxx groaned a little to herself as she stood up, stretching her arms over her head and wincing as her ribs stretched. They were getting better but still not a hundred percent yet. But getting there, another thing she truly credited to Amelia.

Making her way into the kitchen once her teeth were brushed and she’d gotten dressed Jaxx was just about to scrounge around in the cupboards for something to eat when she heard her phone go off, instantly pulling it out of her pocket she smiled a little to herself as she noticed the rose and crown lighting up the screen, meaning Amelia had replied.

“Little early for your Johns dont you think?” Came her fathers voice from the kitchen table.

Rolling her eyes Jaxx went to reply to the text, only getting a few letters typed before her phone was quickly knocked out of her hand and on to the ground.

“What the fu-”

“Focus up when someone’s talking to you.”

Shaking her head and sighing a little Jaxx bent down to grab her phone, just as she went to close her fingers around it her fingers soon found themselves squished under the toe of her father’s boot.

“Fuu...alright I’m listening,” she panted, attempting to pull her hand away only to wince as her father put more pressure on to her hand before he moved his foot. Cradling her hand to her chest Jaxx sighed a little to herself as she glanced at her already red fingers.

“I’m really not in the mood for this, I’m going to school.” she commented, using her own foot to kick her phone away from the table and her father before she bent down to grab it, making sure to stand up quickly this time.

“Who are you talking to?” her father demanded, giving Jaxx a look that made her feel like he could see right through her.

“No one, a friend.”

“Uh huh, you expect me to believe you have those?”

“I don’t expect you to ever believe anything I say,” Jaxx replied with a shrug.

“Give me your phone,”

“No,” Came the instant reply as she went to shove the device into her pocket. The moment her phone was away was the same moment her father forcefully stood up from his chair, swallowing thickly Jaxx went to back up only to end up smacking into the fridge.

“Just a friend huh? What are you hiding.” He demanded, getting closer.

“Nothing, it’s just none of your damn business.”

Clearly this was the wrong thing to say as soon her father was lunging at her, shoving her up against the fridge and trying to snatch her phone back.

“Fuck off! It’s mine,” She exclaimed, attempting to shove him off, which she managed to for a moment and within those split few seconds Jaxx took the opportunity to swing out and connect her fist directly with her father’s face.

Looking wide eyed as it connected what she had done all signs started flashing ‘abort!!” in her head as she went to scramble out the back door, only to have her father grab the back of her jacket and forcefully tug her back into the kitchen. Using his hold on her to his advantage as he shoved her up against the fridge, keeping a strong hand against her back to hold her in place while the other roughly pinned her head against the fridge door.

“Now that wasn’t very smart was it? Considering we’ve both seen you can’t even win a fight, that was pretty damn stupid of you.”

Attempting to struggle against his hold Jaxx groaned as he took the hand holding her head to pull it back and push it against the door once more.

“You come at me again, I’m gonna hurt you bad. You understand me?”

“Y-Yeah...” she mumbled, stumbling into the kitchen chairs as her father shoved her towards them.

Watching as he walked over to the counter Jaxx looked down at her hand, noticing her fingers still bruising and swollen she narrowed her gaze at them. Catching the reflective glint of something in the corner of her eye she let her gaze travel over to the drying rack on the counter, her eyes falling on the meat tenderizer in the rack. Taking a glance between the tool and the back of her father’s head everything seemed to move in an instant as before she knew it she had her fingers curled around the handle, arm raised towards her father as she moved behind him. Only he ended up catching her reflection in the glass of the cupboards before she could land a hit on him, quickly spinning around he grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her closer and landing a harsh punch to the middle of her face, causing her to drop the tenderizer. However the punches kept coming, and coming.

Jaxx found herself falling in and out of consciousness, with every hit, however the last one had her father holding her up by her shirt as her legs gave out underneath her.

“You don’t fucking listen do you? You disrespectful little bitch.” With one last hit to her face he tossed her on to the floor, her head being the first thing that hit against the linoleum tile.

“Told you not to do that.” Her father stated simply, walking out of the kitchen and leaving Jaxx in a bloody heap on the floor.

Barely able to keep her eyes open, tasting nothing but iron on her tongue as her mouth pooled with blood the last thing Jaxx could think of was the fact she didn’t fully text Amelia back before everything went black.

****************

Slowly opening her eyes and realizing she could barely open the right one Jaxx winced as she slowly uncurled her fingers, feeling the cool tile around her she began to gain consciousness once more, the moment her vision focused and she could see the chair and table legs that was when everything came flooding back to her, what had happened, where she was, along with the throbbing pain in her face.

“A-Amelia....” Attempting to look around she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, slumping against the cupboards she pulled her phone out, noticing the time and the fact it was well into the night now. She must have passed out, for the whole damn day.

Fuck.

Shifting a little more to try to situate herself to type a text to Amelia she found she couldn’t focus on the screen, everything was blurry, her head was pounding, this was never going to work. For all she knew Amelia would think she’d blown her off and never want to see her again.

Of all days, why did this have to happen on a damn Thursday.

With a lot of effort Jaxx managed to use the cupboards to pull herself up into a standing position. Trying to push down the instant feeling of nausea she felt. Okay, she could do this. Taking a few minutes to steady herself at least until she could walk.

Once she found her footing Jaxx stumbled her way out the door and into the cool night air. She knew she could go to the bathroom, access the damage, clean herself up. But all she could think of right now was one thing, one person. The only place she wanted to be.

It took a long time to walk the distance and for a big part of it Jaxx had thought she was walking in the complete wrong direction until they came into view. The rose bushes.

Breathing a small sigh of relief she glanced the house over, noticing a light on in one of the upstairs rooms, what she was hoping was a bedroom. Shaking her head a little to try and focus her vision she looked over everything again with more detail this time, trying to plan out her route.

Bingo.

Making her way closer to the house she hooked her fingers into the lattice, instantly wincing as her swollen fingers made their discomfort known. Telling herself to toughen up she sucked in a breath as she hoisted herself up, making sure not to damage any of the rose bushes along the way as she climbed. Pushing herself onto a small side roof she sighed a little in relief, okay half way.

Cradling her head in her hands for a moment as the world started to spin once more she groaned internally. Just a little bit more.

Blinking a few times as she got her gaze to focus she noticed the window she’d been looking at was getting closer, and lucky for her there was a ledge in the siding.

Perfect.

Crawling across the roof she curled her fingers around the ledge, pulling herself up and quickly wedging her foot against the ledge to keep her held up. Managing to get high enough to peek into the room in question. Well it was a bedroom for sure, however an empty one.

Maybe it was Amelia’s, maybe she would come back. It was worth a shot, after all worse comes to worse the St.James parents call the cops on her, hell it would be better than going home.

Raising her hand she lightly knocked on the window, pausing for a moment to make sure neither of Amelia’s parents came into the room before she lightly knocked again.

She knew her biggest concern should have been her appearance. She could only imagine what she looked like, knowing her eye must be bruised and bloodshot, considering she could taste dried blood on her lips she was sure there was some around there still as well, and who the hell knows what else was wrong with her considering the way her head was pounding and her vision kept getting blurry at random times.

Sure she should probably be in a hospital, or a mental institution, but all she wanted right now was the girl she was praying would hear her knocking.

#para #p: 005

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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago

Note

Could you perhaps do Rung's Cyclonus', Tailgate's and First Aid's reaction to their human S/O being trapped in the same room as Rung and Whirl while Fort Max he has his psychotic episode? And Fort Max isn't exactly gentle with them either so

Couple of broken ribs there at least

I love how you guys are so invested in this situation and all the potential prompts because it miiiiight just be from one of my favorite issues of MTMTE... Changing canon for all of these in that Rung emerges from this whole situation with his head intact.

Rung

·He's accustomed to the risks inherent to his profession, and despite his tiny size compared to his larger patients he's more than capable of handling himself in most crisis situations, you knew that the moment you heard that one of his more recent positions involved treating the Wreckers. But when Fortress Maximus burst in to his office, clearly in the fog of an agonizing psychotic episode, he felt fear like he hadn't in ages. His terror isn't for him however. You were preparing to head out so Whirl could have his appointment, your smile as casual as could be as you bid him goodbye from the doorway, when you were snatched up by the colossal Autobot forcing his way inside. Just seeing your fragile organic body in that gigantic fist... Whirl had been unable to stop him before being stabbed to the floor, and he'd been equally incapable of doing anything to save you as he was pinned to a chair with a few errant pieces of warped metal.

·With what Max endured, he knows the hulking mech is suffering from pain he hasn't even begun to acknowledge, but that doesn't make it any easier for him to stay calm and proffesional as you're held firmly in his grasp. Words can't begin to describe how badly he wants to ask for you to be released, even if only to be set down on an available surface so you can breathe, as his sharp audials can pick up every tiny gasp from your struggling body. Yet he doesn't dare to risk upsetting the mech and potentially spurring him to squeeze. His always in control temper is almost able to break loose as Whirl antagonizes Max with you in such a vulnerable position, but he settles for broadcasting audio from his thumb's recorder to the camera he spots on the ceiling. All he can do is hope the bots watching are planning a rescue in short order...

·Things go south quickly when Maximus realizes his demands aren't being heeded, and of all those in the room it's you that pays the highest price. His thumb being torn off hardly compares to his agony watching you be held aloft as a warning and squeezed, your hoarse cry of agony wheezing out into a whisper as your bones audibly crack. Max actually seems horrified for a moment, particularly as you cough up crimson, but he doesn't end the ordeal. Clearly guilty but not deterred, he only lays your tiny body on a nearby surface as he returns to his demands. Nothing had ever hurt more than the agonized little coughs you emitted as you lay so perilously still... It had been enough to compel him to try the worst thing one can do in a hostage situation, ask something of the captor, even if it's little more than weak pleading for only your release.

·He has no way to describe how badly he wishes he could tear himself from his bonds, but when the footage of Overlord is projected on the wall and Maximus collapses under the weight of his trauma, he still finds the softness in his spark to lean forth and comfort the weeping giant with an embrace. While he'd hear later there were plans for taking a shot through one of the many windows, the presence of your tiny body had made it impossible, and thus he had the freedom to end the situation on peaceful terms. Fort Max had been gently led to a guarded room for solitary confinement, Whirl had been proffesionally extracted from his impalement, and you had been rushed to the medical bay while he was still being unstuck from the chair... He hadn't even cared about his missing digit when he'd been told you were being taken to a private room for emergency treatment, from which the medics had refused him entry due to the intensity of your injuries.

·When he'd finally seen you afterwards it had almost broken his spark. You had looked so unlike yourself; frail, lifeless, and connected to a number of life saving machines that beeped and hummed to keep you stable. It didn't matter that you'd be fine, the suffering you had endured already and would face while recovering was enough to overwhelm him with guilt, as he blames himself for the whole ordeal. He hadn't seen the potential for Maximus to suffer a break, and hadn't even been able to talk him down, resulting in suffering for you and so many others. Though he's encouraged and comforted by his friends, he keeps a tireless vigil at your bedside until you wake, occasionally brushing a digit against your tiny hand to provide some reassurance that he's here and watching over you.

·When you do wake up, he's the first thing you see, his gentle smile looking down at you while he welcomes you back to the waking world. The guilt behind his lenses is even more apparent than the pain in every part of your body. Initially he's steadfast in denying he has any such inclinations. All he wants to focus on is your recovery, and making certain you're not traumatized by what you've experienced, he says and insists in a way you know is merely half true. Only when you've recovered enough strength to pressure him does he break, expressing his boundless guilt at having failed you in such a high stakes situation, which he shouldn't even have allowed to happen in the first place. Your reassurance that the only one to blame for the ordeal is the mech who tortured Fort Max brings a measure of perspective, but it's the feeling of your hand in his that solidifies the sense of comfort, your total lack of blame allowing him to turn some of his boundless forgiveness inward. You made it, everyone had made it, and the two of you could bask in the wonder of that simple victory together. That was enough for now.

Cyclonus

·It takes a full legion of bots to hold him back when news of the situation reaches him. You'd been near Rung's office when Fortress Maximus had apparently grabbed you in his rush, and he cares little for calm or strategy when the full weight of the situation is explained to him. The only two other bots in there with you are Rung and Whirl, meaning that you're not only without protection, you're in the middle of a powder keg. He's only prevented from overpowering the barricade when a firm reminder gets him to see the need for caution; all Max need do is bat you aside with his hand and you'll die, which makes your survival unlikely in the event of any altercation. Such painful logic reigns him in to a simmering silence. Joining the main team on the bridge, mostly so he won't try another break in, he's left to watch everything play out on the security feed.

·He only has optics for you as he stands silently by. Though his motionless self could be mistaken for a glowering statue, any bot who looked closer would see the rage boiling in his glare, and how his claws twitched every time there was sudden movement on the screen, which was often due to Whirl gesticulating and Maximus pacing with his weapon ready to fire. Like a hawk ready to dive, he keeps track of it all. You're the center of his focus of course, but he needs to be ready the nanosecond you need him, and that means knowing the terrain to plot out potential rescue missions. Ten minutes into the ordeal he already has fifty or so plans to remove you from just as many scenarios that might play out. While he's initially fine letting the commanding officers take control for the sake of a unified front, that quickly ends when he sees that no effort is being made to storm the room in order to ensure there are no casualties, a goal he hardly agrees with.

·For all of his efforts he fails to hide how incredibly worried he is for you in this situation. Though he snaps the instant someone tries to reassure him, declaring that he has no undue concern but merely wants them to consider the delicate nature of organics, he convinces no one. As he watches Rung lose his thumb, his claws dig so deeply into his crossed arms that they bleed. The lack of audio which follows only makes his worrying turn to nauseous panic. Watching your impossibly tiny form sit tensely on a table brings up a deep buried bit of self loathing, an internal voice taunting him for putting his spark on the line for something so weak, but he crushes its efforts by thinking back to the happiness you've given him. You aren't weak, he's seen the strength of your spirit time and again, your body is simply fragile... As if to cruelly make his point, Fort Max picks you up in a sudden rage, holding you aloft as he roars threats none of them can hear before he squeezes.

·The sight simultaneously breaks his spark and flips a switch inside of him. Ultra Magnus himself is an insignificant obstacle as he does what he should have when this whole thing began; run to your rescue. Cries for him to stop go unheeded, and thankfully for the sake of saving time most are smart enough to get out of his way. As fast as he is, the room you're held in is a fair distance from where he was, and thus there's an agonizing amount of limbo he has to endure on the way there. Even through the dull camera feed he could see how you'd spasmed in Maximus's grasp, and the way your face had contorted in absolute agony... It hurt in a way he wasn't ready to comprehend. There's no way for him to know if you're even still alive, but as unthinkable as losing you may be, he's well aware of what will happen if he arrives to find you lifeless behind the blockaded doors. Hopefully for Fort Max it won't come to that.

·There's a sobering dose of bewilderment when he arrives to see the doors opening of their own accord, but that hardly delays him for long, and he barrels forward to discover a hostage situation that's been settled for precious few moments. Ignoring anything and everyone else, he grabs your tiny self and runs, silent as he's informed through comm that Maximus has surrendered and the medics are ready in the medbay. Unable to be grateful at the sight of you so damaged, he holds you closely but gingerly as if he might break you further, willing your ragged breaths to keep coming unaided for just a little longer. One of his last thoughts as he arrives at the medical bay and the medics take you away is how small your body is in his claws, which somehow makes what's been done all the more agonizing. What reason would any member of his species have to hurt something so incapable of fighting back? As he waits in the common area for news of your condition the question almost mocks him with his own history of misdeeds...

·Seeing you after the surgery does nothing to quell his conscience. Though he's told you'll live, it's difficult to restrain the urge to execute violent revenge on your attacker, and only his greater need to ensure your safety prevents him from doing so. The vigil he keeps over you is tireless and appears stoic to others, but when he's certain you're alone his demeanor is soft and caring, his digits gently adjusting your blankets or brushing errant strands of hair from your face as he waits for you to regain your strength. You awaken slowly and peacefully to the sound of a regal baritone singing a soft song in a language you don't recognize. A familiar thumb brushes your face as you open your eyes, the gigantic claw that greets you not intimidating in the slightest as you behold the faintest hint of a smile on a face otherwise wrought with pain. He's barely able to contain his guilt as he relays his ineffectiveness during your capture, but his gratitude to see you alive is equally obvious in the way he relaxes as you lay your hand in his palm. Weak as you may be, you reveal that you were still conscious when he took you to the medical bay, and how his protective grasp around you had allowed you to believe everything would be okay. The news has a profound effect on him. To hear that he brought peace to you even once, in a manner similiar to what you do each and every day, is beyond anything he could ever imagine. It's enough to make him content just to enjoy the simple gratitude of having you back.

Tailgate

·When he's informed that you're being held hostage he nearly has a panic attack, and when the details of who you're with are relayed only his drive to protect you prevents full on fainting. Through his panicking he's able to convince the commanding bots to let him in the crisis room, if only because not knowing what's going on behind the heavy doors simply tears him apart in a way he can't endure. Knowing what you mean to each other, he's allowed in, and his little visor locks onto your image on the screen without hesitation. Nothing beyond your somewhat blurry face exists in his mind. Small hands clasp as they usually would to hold yours, but the emptiness due to your absence makes him feel pain instead of any kind of comfort, something he doesn't know how to process as he watches you with sad intensity.

·From the moment Maximus makes his first demand he's pushing for your rescue and advocating giving whatever Max wants to facilitate your release. Though he knows that isn't possible, the helplessness of being stuck on the sidelines makes him desperate enough to want Rodimus to give it a try. That sense of powerlessness is exacerbated by the sight of you being held up in the giant's fist. He's woken up after six million years to find someone he adores, and he's going to lose them like this, after so little time together? It's not fair to anyone, but especially you! Rage boils over in his spark as the injustice of it all tempts him to consider charging in himself. All you ever did to Fort Max was be nice, and this is what he does in return? Knowing the bot is suffering a psychotic episode does nothing to quell his anger.

·With nothing good happening on the screen, he tries to recall all the happy moments you've enjoyed together to keep himself calm, replaying the fun movie nights and dates at Swerve's that showed him how wonderful life could be... But the strategy does little to help with his traitorous optics constantly flipping back to the video feed. Nothing has changed each time, but he still can't help looking in some desperate hope that Fort Max will realize you are innocent and either let you go or end this entire ordeal. In his frustration he snaps at the commanding bots for not doing something, and their continued lack of action angers him almost as much as their reassurances. Don't they know how important you are to him?! How you made everything better and that losing you might destroy him?! He's on the verge of a kind of furious panic attack when the situation on the screen goes south dramatically fast.

·Being a small bot means he knows how terrifying it is to be grabbed and pinned by larger Cybertronians, but he can't even begin to imagine how afraid you must be when Fort Max swipes you up far more aggressively than before after an argument none of them can hear breaks out. You're endlessly brave as always, resisting the urge to scream despite the fear and pain visible on your expression, but his worrying turns to a near breakdown when you're held up high and squeezed. The spasm that passes through you is so great he can practically hear the crack of your little bones despite the lack of sound coming through. Resisting the urge to be sick, he grabs onto Rodimus and demands that action be taken before he's forced to do something himself, and despite his tiny size his tone is determined enough to give every present bot pause. By convenient timing that moment is concurrent with Rewind finally getting into position and projecting horrifying images of Overlord into the room, debilitating the hulking Autobot and leaving him helpless whilst Rung talks him down. With you lying motionless in the line of fire Rodimus makes the call to quickly but peacefully have security forces take the room.

·Tailgate is tearing down the hallways before anyone can say another word, desperate to see you as soon as he can if there's still time. The distance between the command center and Rung's office means that he takes some time to arrive, and while he's a quivering mess of panic by then it's only made worse when he hears you're already in the medical bay and receiving emergency care, as your injuries are potentially fatal. Between exhaustion and grief he briefly loses consciousness, but when he awakens in the medical bay he has to be kept from leaping off the berth to aid you. Hearing that you've been stabilized gives him some level of peace, but he still pushes to see you as soon as he can, and no number of visitors can distract him from the agony of waiting, leading to him absolutely jumping when he's told he can see you... Though he finds no comfort in finally beholding your broken body on the medical slab. Still, he takes a dutiful place by your side and whispers idle conversation in a tireless watch that breaks only when he's forced into brief naps by sheer exhaustion.

·Your slow return to consciousness is greatly sped up when, in a rather natural gesture, you squeeze the familiar presence in your hand and get a loud squeak of surprise as a result. A blue visor brimming with tears welcomes you back to wakefulness, but the babbling that pours from the minibot is so emotional you hardly catch even a word at first, and your aching ribs make it almost impossible to speak loudly enough to get his attention. Once he finally gathers himself enough to speak clearly and relay the situation, he's despondent about his nonexistent role in your rescue, something you have to reassure him isn't his fault in the slightest. Weakly but with a smile, you reassure him that thinking about him was the only thing that kept you calm. He tears up again, but this time in a kind of relieved happiness, his helm gently leaning forward to nuzzle you with soft buzzes of affection. Knowing he was able to help in some small way... there's still a lot of healing to be done, but he's determined to stand tall by your side through it all, because you've reminded him that he's strong enough to hold others up.

First Aid

·As a medic, he's usually one of the first bots informed when something goes wrong, to get him ready for a potential influx of patients if nothing else. But this time he's contacted because he's an affected party, and his ever present ability to stay calm is put to a whole new kind of test. Though he manages to keep the panic on the inside, it's raging like an inferno in his spark as he's escorted to the crisis room, his imagination keeping him fully stocked on all the potential ways you could be hurt. Considering Maximus grabbed you in a rush to drag you into the situation, it's not at all unlikely you're already injured. Watching the grainy footage of you in the company of your less than ideal fellow hostages has his processor simmering with terrible possibilities. The reports from the medical bay regarding the rampage victims leave little doubt; Maximus is as powerful as he is unhinged.

·His optics are locked on the screen the instant he manages to gather himself. Every movement, every action and once the audio starts coming through every word is analyzed. Between searching for a solution and ensuring you're okay his thoughts are absolutely racing. There has to be a way to get you out safely, and the moment you're freed as you will be he'll need to be ready for any potential injuries. Losing you isn't an option. In the short few months since meeting you he's become so very close to you, closer than he's ever been to anyone, and in that brief amount of time he's already realized he wants to be with you always. You make him feel worthy, which is perhaps why this helplessness is so incredibly agonizing. For the first time since your relationship began he's feeling that certainty of his incompetence once more.

·The pain of his own self depreciation is offset by simmering anger at his commander's inability to resolve the situation. Deep down he's experienced enough to know they can hardly be expected to control a situation so volatile, but that logic hardly has an impact on his passionate need for action. It only gets worse as things in the room deteriorate. Whirl is hardly staying still to prevent further injury from his impalement, and while Rung covers his bleeding hand to prevent further energon loss, the casual way Max ripped off his thumb makes it clear he has no qualms about violence. An unyielding imagination fills his processor with terrible thoughts about what that same strength could do to your tiny body. Grisly images flash before his optics and drive him to try begging for action once more, though it appears too late as you're suddenly snatched up in a gigantic hand.

·The universe stops moving as you're squeezed with what he knows is too much force for your body to safely handle. The lack of sound doesn't stop him from identifying that you've undoubtedly broken bones, and in fact his hyperactive processor is already trying to work out what damage has been done. Crushed ribs, snapped clavicles, perhaps a fractured humerus, and then there were your softer organs and tissues... The blood on your lips as Maximus lays you down on the table makes it clear something important has been injured that needs immediate medical care. Demanding that a rescue be launched for your sake, he's given a rare bit of luck in the form of two minibots on rivet duty. The specifics of the operation are a blur he can't bring himself to care about, even as the gory footage of Overlord covers the wall, as your limp form is all that exists in his perception. Attempts to count your very breaths only end when the situation is reclassified as under control and he's moving before anyone can say another word.

·Immediate communication with the other medics keeps him in the loop, so he knows you've been extracted the moment it happens, and he plots his course to intercept the team that recovered you even before they reach the medical bay. A random bot on the security detail has you cradled in careful but uncertain hands when he arrives, and is more than willing to hand over the tiny body to someone who actually knows what they're doing. First Aid feels his processor split between his medical training and his personal feelings for you, with the former a calculated source of experienced reason and the latter a maelstrom of agonized panic. Though he's more than able to keep the proper half in charge, he's unable to prevent his emotions from tearing into him as he gets you to the medical bay, where Ratchet and Ambulon have already prepared for emergency procedures. His CMO is adamant on his involvement being voluntary, emphasizing that he knows all too well how hard it is to operate on those you care about, and that he can focus on their other patients if this will be too difficult. First Aid replies that he's grateful for the offer but unwilling to choose anything that doesn't mean giving his all to save you.

·Stabilizing you is a team effort only made possible by the research each medic did in advance on your species, and while he's grateful he took the time to prepare for something such as this, he'll never regret anything more than having to use that knowledge. Waiting for you to wake is harder than it's ever been for any of his past patients. As a medic he has work to keep him busy, but he constantly finds excuses to check in on you, and every spare moment is spent by your side. He checks reports, takes his meals, and even rests all at your bedside. By great fortune he's present when you finally wake up, and you've barely opened your eyes by the time he's checking you over. A worried expression is the first thing you comprehend as a gentle voice asks if you have any sedentary pain. Somehow it's a relief to have your worried medbot be the first thing you see, but you quickly put together this isn't just his usual level of concern, and that there's active remorse in his features. Firm insistence is required to get him to confess; for all of his analytical skills, he couldn't think of a way to resolve the situation to save you. It seems to surprise him when you bring up that he's literally one of the bots that saved your life. An attempt to deflect on the grounds that being a medic is just his job is stopped by himself at your look of silent pleading, and he remembers in an instant how much faith you have in him. Even if he doesn't always feel worthy of that admiration, he knows there must be something to it if it's coming from one such as yourself. That simple reaffirming of his abilities lets him focus on the miracle of having you here with him, and he begins gently and lovingly fussing over you as he always does, bringing the smile back to your face that he so adores.

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miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

Text

Asks relating the “Furious Fu” divergence one-shot:

Anonymous said:

Dear Lord my God I am BEGGING you to continue this Lukanette story with Ladybug!Bustier and Chat Noir!D'Argencourt!!!

The unexplored character analysis for these two adult characters?? The subplot of how Tikki and Plagg are adjusting to their new holders as well as how the other kwamis are fairing under Su-Han’s iron fist?? How Hawkmoth and Adrien are taking all of this in?? Possible classroom salt for different characters in response to Marinette and her different views?? AND LUKANETTE???

Oh my God how do you keep coming up with all of these sweet ideas please continue this I love you?!?!?

jkhdfjghjfdg thank you!!!

I did kind of intentionally leave it off with a lot of “what-ifs” because I had no plans to continue it in terms of everyone else. The story was all about Marinette and being free so diverting to the new heroes and such felt like it’d be a waste.

Anonymous said:

Oh that was so beautiful 😍😭 I’m glad Marinette is able to be happier with her shoulders lighter (and her amazing blue-haired boyfriend draped around them I might add ☺️). Quick question: how does LILA react to the sudden shift with Marinette AND Ladybug?

I wanted to ask about a character who’s not as immediate to the mind (i.e. Alya or Adrien) but who would be just as shaken up internally. And it would be especially interesting to see how she handles the class now that Marinette has no memories (I’m assuming at all since their conflict was so thoroughly intertwined with Marinette being Ladybug and knowing things because of that) or how the two interact. And then of course Lila’s superhero enemy being permanently gone and having Bustier of all people take over (not that she knows her identity of course) must be weird for her too.

Marinette’s still suspicious because the feelings carry over, and enough for Marinette to research and try to disprove but everyone kind of pats her like, “Marinette, it’s fine, you don’t remember much so we get your confusion!”

I imagine Marinette would be more likely to just let it go and let them dig their own hole because Lila isn’t actively against her. She just thinks the whole situation is weird and is more, “you can do whatever but leave me out of it.”

eva-emaria said:

...Chat Noir would be an upgrade, at least he takes it SOMEWHAT seriously and will respect the IMPORTANT rules (albeit poor Plagg). But Bustier??? Oh GOD. And Tikki won't help... No one in that class except Marinette and Max are passing the bac now, and I wanna see Bustier breakdown when there's a Scarlet Moth situation over (almost) her entire class failing.

And all of us will be happy about it. :) Cry us a river, Bustier.

Anonymous said:

Hey! Just wanted to say, I absolutely ADORED your little one-shot about the whole ‘memory loss’ situation. I absolutely agree with ever single line of it. Marinette deserves to be happy, the writers’ stupid concept of ‘comedy’ be damned!

Also, I would Love to read more about how utterly fucked Paris is without her. While D’Argencourt could make a passable black cat if given the opportunity to grow and the right directives and partner, Bustier is definitely not fit to be any superhero, period.

Anyway, don’t feel pressured to do anything, Queen of Lukanette! You already do so much for us poor lukanette shippers. Stay awesome!

I adore that everyone seems to mutually agree that D’Argencourt is a better cat than Chat Noir, it makes my day.

Thank you for the comments but I already have so much Lukanette to go around! The Lukanette part of the story is already concluded basically because the point was that Luka and Marinette’s lives are completely separate from what goes on in the hero side of things.

They’re just happy and everything else is someone else’s problem~

Anonymous said:

What exactly is so bad about D'Argencourt being the new Chat Noir? Isn't he a skilled athlete?

Nothing technically, though D’Argencourt having all the Cataclysms in the world is a terrifying thought and I see him disagreeing with Bustier on basically everything.

I think he’d be better than Chat but max destruction in his hands is overkill.

Anonymous said:

Is it weird if I want to see how badly LadyBustier and Cat Noirgencourt screw up an Akuma fight, and Su-Han immediately regretting his choices?

Points for those names! A+

And no, not weird, though I never plan on showing it. I like having my audience imagine the chaos. :3c

Anonymous said:

ooohhh, do you have anymore of that memory loss au??? with marinette giving up being a guardian and stuff. not necessarily another whole snippet (unless that’s what you wanna do of course!!!), just, like, hcs and tidbits about how paris deals with these two new heroes, or how the rest of marinette's group takes it- kitty section, kagami, the rest of the class... do the teachers notice anything??? sorry you just got me hOOKED-

OMG THANK YOU

I don’t have much outside of the base idea just because I sort of headcanon’d the one-shot as “over, happy ending” and stuff.

Though a few tidbits:

- Paris doesn’t know how to deal with the new ladybug and cat; neither are really as “charming” as the originals (Chat Noir was annoying but I get why the public at least liked him) but they have infinite powers so??? Trade-off??? But then they’ll struggle in battles more - specifically Bustier, dunno how much of a planner D’Argencourt can be - and the public won’t be into that.

- The teachers notice that Bustier and D’Argencourt are busy but Mister Damocles dresses as a owl-themed superhero so they’re used to this garbage by now and are afraid of asking questions.

- Kagami dotes on Marinette due to the memory loss. Marinette doesn’t remember the circumstances behind their friendship (has some vague memory of getting orange juice with her) but she’s pretty sure they’re friends so she rolls with it and is happy about it.

- Kitty Section is just happy that Luka and Marinette are happy. Having to navigate through the Adrien stuff was kinda stressful and Luka has already told them that Adrien is off-limits because why remind her of that? They thought at first that he was just scared that Marinette would fall for Adrien again until they realized how stressful the topic of Adrien was. Just the mere mention of his name causes Marinette to shudder and seek out Luka for comfort.

- The rest of the class has mixed emotions about Marinette’s memory loss, which actually ends up making Marinette look more sympathetic than Lila for a while. This may or may not (up to interpretation) cause a divide of sorts in the class.

Anonymous said:

I love your one shit of marinette losing her memories, it was sweet it made me cry and I loved how su han just screw himself over lol

Now I can just imagine Paris burning and luka just take marinette to a plece where they can't see the fire, no their problem anymore XD

I can 100% confirm that this is what happens.

#episode: Furious Fu #other: ask and answer #((idk what else to tag this as))

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youreacowgirllikeme · 4 years ago

Text

Competition

note: I just felt like writing some angry, jealous Chris...enjoy :)

words: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, alcohol, unprotected sex

"I am Chris Cuomo, live from New York with my collegue Y/N Y/L/N, keeping you updated on this 2020 presidential election all through the night.”

The camera switched to you as you greeted the viewers before handing it over to Phil on the magic wall, right in time so the giant yawn you had to let out wasn’t caught live.

"Pull yourself together, Y/L/N.“ Chris whispered across the anchor desk and discreetly slid a cup of coffee your way.

You rolled your eyes at him, that was easier said than done. It was the second night of the election coverage and you ran on nothing but naps and caffeine for two days now. You spent all your time off air preparing your nightly coverage, doing panels for the day shift, keeping track with the incoming numbers and doing calculations. It was exhausting, and you had no idea how Chris managed to not only be wide awake, but also look impeccable doing so.

It was the first major event the two of you had covered as co-anchors, you had never worked with him before and maybe that was for the better. Because while he was a brilliant journalist and you had already learned a lot from him, he also was a huge pain in the ass, and the fact that he teased you all the time was only made worse by the surge of heat that went through you every time he stared at you with those damn blue eyes.

Yes, you had a slight crush on him, but you blamed it entirely on sleep deprivation and would never even dream about acting on it. You had this big event to cover, and that’s where all you focus was, or at least should be.

The camera swayed back to you right in time for you to announce a key race alert, calling the next state for Biden. A good way to start the night.

+++

"And that’s it from us in New York, I’m Chris Cuomo and I’m now handing over to my colleagues in Washington, our live coverage on CNN continues after a short break. Thanks for spending your night with us.”

“Fuck me.“ you murmured, slumping your head down into the anchor desk as soon as the cameras were off.

You were absolutely bone tired, and you only had about a 10 hour break before preparations for the next night started, because there was no chance the race was going to be called in the next hours.

“Y/N?” one of the producers called your way. “Washington asks if they can have you up for a panel discussion at 10, and maybe another one in the afternoon?”

You groaned and just gave a thumbs up, it wasn’t like you had planned on going home anyways.

Deciding to squeeze in a nap in your office, you got up from your chair to at least get a couple hours of sleep. You walked through the hallways like a zombie, and didn’t pay any attention to where you were going until you ran right into a huge body, colliding with the persons chest with a huff.

“Come on, Y/L/N, too tired to keep your eyes open?” Someone chuckled, and you groaned internally. Cuomo was one of the last people you wanted to see now.

“Sorry, We can’t all be super humans who don’t need sleep.” You muttered, and tried to keep walking, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“You’re staying here until tonight?” Chris asked, and you just nodded tiredly in response.

"Join me in my office for a drink then?” He asked, and your eyebrows shot up.

“You keep alcohol here, Cuomo?”

“Of course.” He chuckled. “Emergency use only, but the craziness of those past hours calls for it, and you really look like you could use one.”

He was right, a drink sounded like heaven, and you were way too tired to be rational right now.

+++

“Shit, this is good.” You sighted, taking another sip of the scotch Chris had poured you, your head slumping back on the backrest of his comfortable leather couch.

Chris had already downed his drink and was now watching you from an armchair across from you.

“You need to toughen up.”he suddenly said.

“You’re doing a good job, you’re driven and intelligent. But you let stuff get to you too quickly. You need to stay focused 24/7, even under pressure like tonight, or the job will break you at some point.”

You blushed furiously, what he said hadn’t sounded mean or condescending at all, but you still got defensive.

“I didn’t have one single slip those past two days, cut me some slack, Cuomo, were all tired.” you snapped.

Chris face stayed as calm as his voice.

“I’m tired, yes, but you don’t see me yawning in front of the camera. You looked cute, don’t get me wrong, but I doubt the bosses will see it the same way.” He chuckled, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

“I am not cute, I’m an anchor just as you are.” You hissed, your fists clenched in your lap. You got up from his couch. “I’m leaving now, I don’t need your condescending shit.”

Before you even reached the door, Chris had already caught your arm, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding you back.

“Hey, no need to be cross, I was joking.”

He took a step closer to you, and you got a whiff of his aftershave mixed with the whiskey he just had. He smelled like heaven, and looked so stupidly good, even in his wrinkled dress shirt and with circles under his eyes, you hated him a bit for it.

You took a step back, hitting the office door behind you. Chris was so close now, watching you with dark eyes and a curious expression on his face.

“Well it wasn’t funny.“ you whispered, unable to come up with a better response. Your brain was fuzzy with alcohol and sleep deprivation, and couldn’t handle the situation.

"Or maybe you just need to loosen up a bit.“ Chris grinned, cocking his head to the side.

Looking back, you weren’t sure what made you do what you did next, maybe it was the whisky, or the lack of proper sleep, or both, but grabbed the fabric of Chris dress shirt and yanked him down, crashing your mouth onto his.

He appeared suprised and didn’t move for a second, but then his hands grabbed your arms and pressed you back against the door. He deepened the kiss, but just as you tried to reach out to bury your hand in his hair, he suddenly took a huge step back.

"You need to leave.“ he pressed out, even if his body language clearly said the opposite.

"What’s gotten into you?“ you asked, confused and slightly irritated.

“There’s no way in hell we’re doing this. Not here, not now, not ever.”

“But you just-“

“Look, I’m m sorry if I sent you the wrong signal, but we can’t do this. I know, we’re both tired and we had a drink and everything. But we’re working together. This isn’t right.” He let out a deep breath, before his face hardened. “I really think it would be best if you leave now. I’ll see you later, once we’re back on air.”

You felt absolutely mortified, you had been convinced that Chris had wanted the same thing, had you really been reading him so wrong?

You didn’t want to be in that situation any longer, already feeling the embarrassing sting of rejection manifesting itself with a giant flush creeping onto your face.

So you did the only thing you could come up with, you ran, locking yourself in your office and dreading facing Chris again.

+++

The joy and relief over the Biden victory had erased most of the exhaustion and pent up frustration you and the whole CNN team had felt during that election week. The guy who hated your network and the way each of you did their job was finally out of the White House, and that was a definitely reason to celebrate.

You were currently all gathered in the main office space where the bosses had thrown together a party, their way of appreciating your hard work during election week. There was music, amazing food and, much to your delight, an open bar.

It would’ve been a great evening if it wasn’t for the almost unbearable tension still hanging in the air between you and Chris. Looking back, you had no idea how you had managed to keep it so professional during the coverage following your encounter in his office.

Of course, being serious journalists, you didn’t let it show that there was any animosity between the two of you, but as soon as the cameras were off, Chris either completely ignored you or fled the room as fast as he could.

You tried not to take it personally, but it still hurt, and even talking to him on air without showing that was incredibly difficult for you.

Now, you hadn’t spoken to him at all in the three days since the election was over, and you had finally decided that he wasn’t worth the many thoughts you had spent on him.

You wanted to have some fun tonight, have a chat and some drinks with your colleagues and not think about Chris Cuomo.

Which was pretty hard, considering that his huge frame was almost impossible to miss in the crowd, and you had felt his eyes on you more than once.

But you stood your ground, trying your best to appear unimpressed as you joked around with some blokes from the production team. One of them, a guy called Jim, seemed a bit into you, and you decided some harmless flirting wouldn’t hurt. The last days had been physically and emotionally exhausting, so some light banter was just what you needed.

You were in the midsts of laughing about a story Jim had just told, when your eyes caught Chris staring at you from across the room. And for some reason, he looked really mad.

You just raised your eyebrows at him and turned your attention back to your colleague. But you were only listening with half an ear, your thoughts were circling around Chris again.

What was the matter with him? It was when Jim put his hand on your arm and you saw Chris throwing another murderous stare your way that you realized what was happening.

Time for some fun, you thought, and leaned closer to your admirer to whisper into his ear.

“Would you be a dear and get us some more drinks?“

You laughed theatrically when he agreed, just for the effect, hoping Chris would see it. But when you looked up, he was nowhere to be found.

Jim was making his way to the bar now, so you decided to use the restroom real quick. You were just walking through the hallway, when suddenly, someone roughly grabbed your arm from behind you.

“You’re coming with me.” Chris growled and dragged you into the closest room, which did just happen to be his office.

As soon as the door slammed behind you, he had backed you up against it, his huge frame towering over you.

“Cuomo, what the fuck are you doing?” You spat, trying to get away, but his arms were on either side of your head, effectively trapping you. Your heart was beating like crazy, a sign of your treacherous body reacting to Chris’ closeness.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” Chris growled, “You like playing games with me?”

You were really annoyed now, he had no right to just treat you this way. But you couldn’t deny the the burn of arousal in your lower stomach at seeing him so worked up.

“Games? What’s your fucking problem, Cuomo? you can’t just drag me in here like that.”

“What were you doing with that asshole out there? That your new boyfriend?”

“Oh my god, are you serious?” You yelled back. “You were the one who basically kicked me out of your office the other day, and now you’re actually asking me-“

Before you could finish, Chris kissed you, pressing you against the door with his body. The kiss was almost brutal, his teeth clashing against yours, he bit your lip and his tongue plunged into your mouth.

It had you clawing your hands into his shirt, your arousal kickstarting as a noticeable bulge pressed against your stomach.

Your need for the man, that you had carefully bottled up for about a week now, was now hitting you with full force.

“What are you doing?” You gasped between kissed, your breath already rigged from arousal. You wanted him so bad, your whole body screaming to be touched by the man in front of you.

“Shut up.” Chris growled, his huge hands sliding under your dress to squeeze your ass. You moaned into his mouth, palming his rock hard erection through his trousers before starting to work on his belt buckle.

The groan Chris let out against the skin of your neck he was currently kissing sent a pool of wetness between your legs, and you doubled your efforts to finally get him out of his clothes.

When his huge cock finally sprung free, you couldn’t suppress a moan at the thought of feeling him inside you. It earned you a smug chuckle from Chris.

“Stop laughing and fuck me.”you whined, and he grabbed your panties, effortlessly tearing the thin lace from your body, bunching up your dress around your hips in the process, leaving your dripping core completely bare.

“Those were my favorites, Cuomo.” You growled, but he just gave you a sharp slap to your ass.

“I don’t fucking care, baby.”Chris replied, and before you could come up with a snarky remark, a huge finger slowly got pushed into you, making you throw your head back as you let out a needy whine.

“More, please.” You whispered.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, baby, I’ll give you everything you want.” Chris replied, withdrawing his fingers.

He picked you up and pushed you against the door with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. You didn’t care. He gave you one last hard stare before he slammed you down onto his cock without warning.

“Fuck.”You cried out , biting your fist to stop yourself from making any more noise, the office walls were thin.

“You like that baby? You think that damn boy out there could ever fuck you like that?”Chris pressed out, his hips thrusting in and out of you in a relentless pace. His brows were furrowed, teeth bared. He looked feral, aggressive, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs hard enough to bruise. You were transfixed by his face, your eyes locked on his as he pounded into you harder and harder.

“I asked you a fucking question, could he ever fuck you like that?”

“No, never.” You cried out, your voice almost breaking.

“Shit, Chris, don’t stop, please.” you pleaded, throwing your head back against the door with each of his thrusts. You were not above begging, there was that raw possessiveness in his voice and the way he manhandled you, and it drove you wild. You had fully succumbed to him by now, going limp in his arms as your body shook with every hard snap of his hips.

“Look at me.” Chris snarled, delivering a particularly forceful slam, making your head snap up, your eyes meeting his.

“That fucking punk won’t ever touch you again.“ Chris accentuated his words by grabbing you even more roughly.

“You’re being ridic-shiiit.” You groaned, as Chris pressed you down onto his cock, hitting that sweet spot. He was so deep inside you, and when he dug his nails into the flesh of your tights, the sweet flash of pain pushed you right over the edge.

All the built up tension of the last days left your body as you clenched around Chris cock, trying to muffle your cries by burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“That’s it, fucking squeeze my cock, baby.” He breathed into your ear, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before he tensed up and spilled inside you.

He lowered you back onto your feet and you slumped back against the door before Chris carefully maneuvered you over to his couch, sitting down beside you.

“Where the hell did that come from?”You broke the silence. You still couldn’t quite wrap your head around what just had happened, but there was no denying that you had enjoyed the hell out of it. Your body was still tingling with the afterglow of your orgasm.

“I did some thinking, and decided that I need to stop being an asshole and go for what I want.“ Chris shrugged. "I wanted to apologize and talk to you first. But when I saw this jerk putting his hands on you, I just snapped.“

“Glad you finally came to your senses, you were acting like a total idiot” you said, seriously at first, before a grin took over your face. “But I forgive you, we have a party to get back to, my bathroom break is already taking way too long. But how does dinner tomorrow night sound?”

“Great, actually.” Chris replied, giving you the first sincere smile that evening, and maybe the most sincere you had ever seen from him. "But stay away from that guy, or I’ll drag you in here again.“

#Chris Cuomo #chris cuomo imagine #chris cuomo fanfiction #chris cuomo fic #chris cuomo x reader #fanfiction #cnn #cnn anchors #smut

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