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bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus · 1 year

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Bloodhound. (A Ghost x AFAB!reader fic)

Act One, Chapter Four: The Fool

Hey all! I hope you enjoy this chapter as I had a lot of fun writing this one! :)

As per usual, apologies for any grammar mistakes. Exam season is coming in thick and fast too, around May to June, so momentum for this fic will be slowing down by a lot. You guys have been so patient so far and I'm very grateful for it.

Word count: 6,327

Warnings: Threats of violence, strong language, horror elements, Y/N having a bit of a moment, and Ghost and Soap being a pair of daft himbos.

Ghost and Soap really are the epitome of 'tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dumber'. Yes, Ghost is mean and moody, hot and broody, but I also believe that when he gets comfortable with someone, he loses about 95% of his intelligence.

“Aha!” He got out a small red bag with a white cross on it. “Roll it up so I can see what we’re dealing with here.”

23 shifted awkwardly, refusing.

Graves sighed, “Kid, you gotta help me out. I’m the one with the first aid kit and you’re the one with the bleeding knee. Let me have a look and try to sort this out.”

Again, she refused, shrinking away from him a little. Phillip rolled his eyes under his mask and then made for her, reaching forward to bring her closer to him. The child soldier backed up even further, almost falling off the tree stump she was sitting on as she swatted his hand away. He muttered a curse under his breath and turned around.

“72,” he called, “could you tell your, uh… Could you tell 23 here that I need her to show me the injury so I can fix it?”

“He’s not got any intentions of hurting you, 23,” 72 said, not looking up from her crossword, “You can see for yourself.”

Eventually, the younger of the two girls came around and rolled up her trouser leg to expose her knee. Graves winced a little as the injury was revealed. It was a nasty scrape, not too deep, but it definitely looked like it hurt. The joint itself was a little swollen too.

“I think you might have sprained it,” he remarked, bringing the leg closer to his concealed face.

“It really hurts.”

“I’m sure it does, hun.”

As he got to cleaning up the blood and debris of gravel with an antiseptic wipe, 7629 approached and set down a small bowl beside him.

“Thanks.”

“You better eat quickly. I think Valeria’s gonna be up soon.”

“Roger.”

He briefly stopped tending to 23, removing his hand from her leg to feel around for the release-mechanism on his canister-less mask. Phillip couldn’t remember how exactly he ended up with no canisters on his face, but, then again, he couldn’t exactly remember how ended up unconscious, on top of Valeria… who was also unconscious, looking like she had just escaped from an animal attack. The woman’s clothes had been torn in a pattern of scratch marks, with a shallow but still painful bite on her shoulder.

He was still puzzled as to how she got those slashes and how he ended up covered in blood too, with bite marks of his own littering his forearms… because he was still denying it was him.

Phillip was also denying that he had any part to play in 23’s sprained and bloody knee.

No one had told him anything useful about what had happened to the kid too, just that she had tripped trying to run away from someone. 72 had mentioned offhandedly that she had gone looking for him once the dust had settled and the pack had cleared the area of hostiles but…yeah, at this point he’d rather not know.

He took a spoonful of whatever 7418 had cooked up in that cheap-looking iron pot, only to almost faint from sheer delight.

Phillip never thought he’d see the day when he’d experience a ‘foodgasm’.

“Holy shit!” he said with a mouthful of the stuff, “What the fuck did you do to this, ‘418?!”

7418 shrugged, shaking his head as he chuckled, watching over the bubbling pot.

Graves was certain it had to be mutton or something, the texture reminding him of lamb. He had no idea how 7418 had managed to make something so good from mere camping food. He knew the guy had brought little jars of spices with him, catching the scent of them as he walked past 7418’s rucksack every now and then. The other guys, who had known him longer, appeared to have this running gag about him being the Las Almas cartel’s cook, as opposed to an ex-sicario, as shown by 7152 slapping him lightly on the back and addressing him as ‘Chef Ramsey’.

Anyways, Graves took one more spoonful of his dinner and quickly got back to patching up 23.

“I don’t want this getting any worse,” he mumbled as he got out a large plaster, “You stay close to 72 and you don’t get into the heat of the action. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” she sighed.

“I’m not having two kids dying on my watch. You help when I say you can, and you stay out of it when I say you do.”

She nodded.

“And that goes for you too, 72!”

The other girl gave him a thumbs-up, still working through her crossword.

Phillip shuddered at the mere thought of losing these two. Sure, he wasn’t exactly a good person per se, but the man had morals. Children. Children were where he would draw the line. Furthermore, judging by how the other guys didn’t really have much regard for them, he knew he would have to take it upon himself to ensure their safety. Graves just hoped they wouldn’t make that too difficult for him.

He pouted a little as he saw 23’s melancholy expression.

“You’re fine, 23.”

That didn’t really do much to cheer her up.

Then, Graves had an idea. He got up and moved a few feet to kneel down by the supply bags. After retrieving the desired item, he returned to kneeling before 23, presenting it to her.

“Hey!” he called for her attention, “At least your little camcorder didn’t break during your fall.”

A small smile crept onto her face as she took it from him, eager to start flicking through any footage she captured. A warmth found itself building in Phillip’s chest as he watched on, relief sweeping over him as he saw some colour and some cheeriness return to his lamia.

That was when someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

“She’s up, 7223.”

He nodded and thanked 7629. Then, he got up, told 23 to stay put and 72 to watch over her, before taking his leave. Not wanting his food to go cold, Phillip took his bowl with him, wolfing down a few more spoonfuls as his fellow soldier led him to where they had put Valeria.

Her eyes fluttered open, and Valeria was quick to pick up on the fact both her arms and her legs had been restrained. The wilderness which engulfed Las Almas was where she found herself. With a grunt, she struggled a little against the restraints, to test how securely they had been wrapped around her. Her legs had been bound by wiry rope and her arms were brought around and secured together behind her. Well, behind a tree. Valeria had been cuffed to a tree trunk.

As her vision cleared up, she saw three figures approaching from the small gathering a few metres ahead. She kept her head high, not wanting to show any sign of weakness. However, her captors could easily see through her facade of confidence, hearing her heart race inside her chest. 7629 couldn’t help but salivate a little, hackles raising, his mind filled with blood-drunk thoughts of a tasty meal.

Graves too could sense her blood rushing through her body. So… much… of… it. He shook away the urges, a little unnerved by them.

“So,” Valeria sighed, shoulders slumping a little, “what do you want this time, lobos?”

“We have a job for you.” The one in the middle spoke.

More specifically, the American one.

Valeria felt a shiver run down her spine. He was the one who half-ate Alvaro and almost devoured her too.

“Job?” she scoffed, putting on a mask of her own, of being unfazed and unafraid, “I don’t take orders anymore. I can offer intel to the Foundation, but I won’t do jobs.”

“You see, that’s the problem.” The American one feigned an apologetic sigh. “We have all the intel we need so bartering your way out of this with information ain’t gonna help.”

His voice was much clearer with his mouthpiece removed and mask drawn up to reveal some of his face. Now, Valeria knew why she recognised him from the scuffle.

“Graves?” she asked, almost timidly, “Phillip Graves, is that you?”

“Hi, Valeria.” He grinned, his voice coming out almost like a purr.

Her heart threatened to burst, blood rushing in her ears. She could feel herself begin to quiver a little.

“I saw you die. Your tank exploded. You would have been literal pieces…”

“It’s amazing what we can achieve with modern medicine, isn’t it?” he chuckled, resting his hands on his knees as he leaned in.

This was bad. This was really bad. The Foundation wanted him to be here for a reason. They wanted him here because he had connections. He was very much relevant to whatever task these lot were undertaking.

Alejandro, Rudy, and the rest were in grave danger.

Her tan skin had paled a little, breaths becoming shallow, as she stared at him with wide eyes.

“What does the Foundation want with the Vaqueros?”

“It’s not the Vaqueros we’re after.”

Valeria chewed on the inside of her cheek, already dreading the answer to her next question. The woman prayed that they already knew the information she was about to divulge in her question, or she would end up giving those boys away.

“What does the Foundation want with Task Force 141?”

“A client has a target we need to make a Son out of,” another spoke up from behind Phillip, “and we need you to deliver the infection.”

Valeria felt a cold sensation run through her.

“Why me?”

“Does it matter?”

The woman had an idea. Most likely, it was to keep the element of surprise for when they’d extract their new packmate. On the other hand, though, they could’ve kidnapped anyone else to do that. This was personal. Well, she sighed, that is the Foundation. They held grudges and they held power. No one, ex-lamia or ex-gorgon, was ever truly a free woman.

She didn’t want to do this. She really didn’t. Infecting someone with this… that would be delivering them a fate worse than death. Valeria was sick but there were still a few morals lingering at the back of her mind. Morals that were coming to the forefront now. The angel on her shoulder was screaming at her to just let them kill her and find someone else to be their personal postman.

Graves tilted his head to one side, impatience growing as Valeria’s silence dragged on.

Whilst Valeria’s reluctance was the dominant, screeching voice inside her head, her logical side was still very much part of this internal debate… and it argued well.

Death for her was… not ideal.

Valeria didn’t want to die but she also didn’t want to be part of this twisted game of ‘Pass the Parcel’.

“Well,” the logical part of her argued, “you wouldn’t really be part of this game, not voluntarily, anyway.”

Besides, word was, on the street, that a runaway lamia was sighted in their hepta-plate armour just on the outskirts of Las Almas. Yes, it wouldn’t be ideal to foist another problem onto that poor person but… wouldn’t they mind helping a fellow sister out? Valeria prayed that the rogue lamia would stay long enough to cross paths with the monster she was about to help create.

Her hands were tied, both literally and figuratively.

Valeria swallowed hard, desperately trying to cling to her slipping facade of fearless strength.

One of the hounds behind Phillip growled, hackles raising a little.

“Valeria,” 7418 began, “do you want to know what we’re having for dinner tonight?”

He pointed to the bowl of food Graves had set on the ground.

No, she didn’t want to know.

He chuckled.

"Te lo diré, de todos modos. ¡Es uno de tus sicarios y será mejor que empieces a cumplir o te unirás a ellos en un maldito caldo!"

"I'll tell you, anyway. He's one of your hitmen and you'd better start complying or join them in a damn broth!" was what he had said.

She sighed resignedly, horrified but not surprised. They were nothing but animals after all. At this point, Arcadian Sons gloating about which friend of hers they had eaten wouldn’t do much but cement the fact that they were rotten to the core, infected with both disease and whatever long-harboured spite had been brewing away inside them from their time as corpses.

She really should have been grateful that they hadn’t made a meal out of her yet. The fact that they were choosing conversation over tearing her throat out was something not to be taken lightly.

“At this point, boys, I don’t care. Kill, eat, pillage, destroy… I…”

Valeria couldn’t even bring herself to say it. ‘El Sin Nombre’ had given her an illusion of control and now, she had found she, in fact, had only been playing pretend. Those men were always so good at reminding her of who she was. They were an annoying constant which bridged the gap between her old and new life. Valeria loved power, until now, because now she had realised she had never even had a true taste of it. Valeria had been merely toying with the idea.

Real power was holed up in the heart of the Foundation, wearing a white coat and ticking boxes on a checklist.

Real power was also lording over her, dangling these men, these puppets, over her head, as if to say, “You’re still mine.”

It was always wise to recognise when you only have one choice, and Valeria could see it now. She had to do what she was told. The woman just hoped that there was someone else further down the line who could minimise the damage that would ensue from making this decision.

“I’ll do it. I’ll lure them out and infect the target. Give me all the information I need.”

Her voice had no emotion. That passionate, brazen cartel queen was gone. All that was left was someone tired. Someone who just wanted this to be over and done with. Like that, the woman was back to square one. Broken and afraid, with nowhere to go but to the Mexican military, with the hopes that maybe she could make a living putting some of her skills to good use.

“Muy bien.” Graves smiled.

“On the condition,” Valeria added, “you leave me be… for good.”

“You know we can’t promise that.” 7629 spoke up.

It was worth a try, Valeria supposed.

Graves turned around to address the men, “I’ll give Valeria, here, the intel she needs to complete the job. I’ll inform both you and her of what the agreed signal will be to notify success. Once we receive that signal, we’ll plan for the extraction. Understood, boys?”

“Yup!”

Phillip nodded and returned to Valeria.

“Your target is…”

Oh God…

She braced herself.

“... Simon Riley.”

Huh?

“Who?” the woman asked, brows furrowing.

Graves smiled, fangs glinting in the dim light of the central campfire.

“You may know him as ‘Ghost’.”

Her stomach dropped.

“This is some reunion! Don’t you agree?” Phillip chuckled, picking up his bowl and taking his leave, “I’ll tell you all you need in ten, Valeria.”

She cast her gaze to the ground, staring daggers into the soil, too afraid to direct them at Graves’ back; lest he sensed her look of indignation and did something about it.

“We’re not too different, you and I, Commander Graves.”

He halted, a little unnerved by her robotic, yet somewhat condescending, tone.

Turning around, Phillip looked at Valeria with a concealed face of slight confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re both trapped- slaves to the Foundation. You’ll never be rid of them, you know. This is only just the beginning.”

She slowly moved to meet his face, head resting against the tree bark, her body not bothered enough to correct her slumped posture.

“Uniforms were always limitations for you and now look where you are, what you are.”

“I’ll cope,” he replied, through clenched teeth.

“You’re already struggling.”

She was just trying to stir him up, to try and get one over him. He wasn’t going to give in and entertain her, though. Valeria would just have to remain bound to a tree until they’d have need of her for their plan.

“By blood, we are bound,” the woman chuckled wryly, “You’ll be a soldier forever now, Graves.”

“Well, not forever,” he spoke patronisingly, setting down in front of her again, “One day, I’ll die and then I’ll be a soldier no more.”

“That’s if the Foundation is merciful.”

Cold ran through him. Graves growled a string of obscenities under his breath and got back up, shaking his head. Valeria followed him with her eyes, watching him finish his meal and press down on his mask. Once again, he was back to being a faceless monster, any remnants of his humanity being locked away under that awful, awful mask.

***

You were pacing back and forth in the small supply closet you had managed to find. You should’ve waited with Soap, not been a coward. However, you also knew that you’d probably end up sitting there for five minutes, jigging your leg up and down, before becoming too restless and running away anyways. There was really only one option here.

Sighing, you stopped your pacing and leaned against a wall, before sinking down and landing on your bum. You drew your knees to your chest, hugging them as you contemplated just how much trouble you were in with Laswell.

Could you even quantify it?

A little whimper escaped your lips.

How on Earth were you a lamia? You were the most spineless coward you knew!

Perhaps that was why everyone else had died that night except for you.

Oh God…

How could people in the army voluntarily do this?!

Which then begged the question of why you had decided to take up that challenge to go against Ghost.

‘Ego’ was most likely the answer.

You wanted to impress, to fit in, to befriend them, maybe start a few inside jokes. You thought that’s what army men liked doing: beating each other up and then cracking jokes about it.

The problem was that you were no army man, and you didn’t really find entertainment in beating your mates up. You didn’t really like violence altogether.

You wanted to be a normal person, have a normal job, you know? Take trains, type on computers, drink expensive drinks from… what was that place called that people spoke about… ‘Barstucks’?

Laswell could sense it in you from the moment you arrived: a monster trying to become human. You thought, maybe because she had experience in that department, she could teach you a few things.

Now, you had your doubts. Maybe she hadn’t had that experience. After all, she was in the military, using the same skills, just for different bosses. Laswell was still a lamia, just not the Foundation’s.

Other free women you had heard about had either gone into crime or… well, didn’t last very long.

Maybe you couldn’t be a normal human.

You buried your face into your knees.

Laswell had been running all over the place to find you. She had asked Gaz, gone back to see if you had returned to Soap, grabbed Price by the shoulders and shaken him, raving on about how you were… well, the best she could put was ‘fragile’.

She supposed the one good thing to come out of this was that in the hour she had spent hunting around, building up a small party consisting of Gaz, Rudy, Price and Alejandro, Ghost had managed to recover somewhat.

Soap was so happy when he saw Ghost come out of the medical room, a little sore but mostly alright. He had practically leapt out of his seat, fussing over the man the moment he had made his exit.

“Steamin’ Jesus!” Soap rejoiced, feeling relieved upon seeing Ghost look like his usual, albeit slightly mysterious, self.

“Relax, Johnny, it’s not like I was going to die.” Ghost sighed, rolling his shoulders, his body still waking up.

“I was more worried for yer future kids!” The Scotsman elbowed Ghost playfully.

“For a second I was too but the doc said I was fine. Apparently, I was just ‘shocked’.”

“Shocked?!” Soap couldn’t believe it, “Are you telling me that Y/N actually managed to gain the element of surprise over you?”

Ghost shrugged.

“No way! Someone actually did it! Someone out-Ghosted you!”

Soap couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“I’m glad you’re having fun at my expense.”

“Come on! It’s a bit funny. That tiny, little-”

“Okay, Y/N isn’t that small.”

“Well, compared to you, anyways. That little minx! They absolutely out-Ghosted you!”

Ghost sighed… and then realised something. Y/N definitely packed quite a punch. Quite a big punch. Almost too big of a punch, for someone of their size.

“Speaking of Y/N,” he looked over to Soap, before continuing in a hushed voice, “Don’t you think they were a bit too strong?”

Soap cast his mind back to the fight. Yeah. Now that he thought about it, there was a moment that he could only describe as… odd. You had thrown Ghost over your shoulder like he was nothing but a sack of potatoes. Pairing that with the rather strong handshake you had introduced yourself with to MacTavish… hmm… He stroked his chin. Strange.

“Aye. I mean, Y/N had, uh, quite a firm handshake too.”

“What do you mean?” Ghost asked, raising an eyebrow under his mask.

“When I shook hands with them, yesterday, I… They held onto me quite, you know, strongly. Felt like they were going to take my arm with them!”

“Something’s off about them.”

“Sure! But Laswell did say they were weirdly socialised from a young age or something.”

“Having an odd upbringing doesn’t make you freakishly strong, Soap.” Ghost shook his head, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Oh, and how would you know that, Simon?”

He remained quiet, looking at Soap knowingly, before quickening his pace.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” MacTavish asked.

He chased after Ghost, breaking into a light jog.

“Oi! Simon! What do yer mean by that?!”

Suddenly, Ghost stopped in his tracks.

“Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Come here.”

Ghost gestured for the man to press his ear against the door of the supply closet. Soap did so, after picking away at some of the peeling paint. He did a few seconds’ worth of listening before looking back at his friend.

“Is someone in there?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Who hangs around in a broom cupboard?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

Gently, Ghost opened the door, light spilling into the darkness. He looked this way and that, sticking his head into the closet.

You held your breath, shrinking into the shadows, hoping they’d lose interest soon.

“I don’t see anyone, Ghost.”

He hummed in reply, though it wasn’t in agreement.

“Hello?”

“Lt, with all due respect, I think you’re talking into a void right now.”

“Shh!” Ghost snapped back.

Soap rolled his eyes, before catching sight of a vending machine sitting by the doorway to the canteen.

“While you’re poking through broom cupboards, I’m gonna go grab a snack. Want anything?”

Ghost didn’t reply, instead taking a step into the closet.

MacTavish shrugged, letting Ghost continue his investigation whilst he went to get himself a cereal bar or something. He thought he needed one after the day he’d had. Ghost would probably want one too, though Soap knew the man would begrudgingly take it from him… as he always did. Ghost seldom liked to rely on others, and it was a recent breakthrough for MacTavish to get him to even take offered food.

Soap wandered off to pursue some sugary delights as Ghost fully immersed himself in the darkness of the supply closet.

Someone was here, he knew it. The lieutenant had developed a sense for these types of situations, it was like he could sniff a person out. Anyways, he peered around, lifting miscellaneous bits and pieces off the ground, seeing if anyone lay under them.

You shrunk away even further, hoping he’d drop it and leave, wanting to be alone.

Unfortunately, Ghost found you. He removed the bundle of brooms and mops which had sheltered your sulking body.

“Y/N?”

You looked up at him before your eyes fell to the ground.

“Go away.” You mumbled.

“Wow. You kick me in the balls and now you’re telling me to ‘go away’. Awfully kind of you,” he chuckled, taking a seat beside you, wincing a little as he landed on a sore spot.

You shuffled away from him, withdrawing further and further into your cocoon of sadness. You reminded Ghost of a kicked puppy, which was kind of ironic seeing as you were the one who had done the kicking, but anyways, he wasn’t oblivious, he could tell you weren’t happy.

“Usually when I see someone realising they’ve fucked up, it makes me feel quite good,” Ghost remarked, “but for some reason, Y/N, you’re really bringing my mood down looking like this.”

You grumbled something, but he couldn’t make out what it was, your knees muffling your voice.

“How long have you been sulking in this broom cupboard?”

Again, you mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“I’m not sulking,” you growled.

“It looks like you’re sulking.”

Finally, you released yourself from your prison and stretched your legs out, sighing.

“I… I just feel bad, Ghost. I didn’t mean to-”

“I know you didn’t.”

You turned to face him, a little surprised.

“You looked scared,” he admitted, staring ahead, “I wasn’t going to hurt you. You know that, right?”

“I look scared?”

“Yeah. When I was coming to help you up. you looked at me, but I…” He scratched the back of his head, trying to find the words. “I don’t think you saw me.”

Being in this profession long enough, Ghost knew the signs of trauma when he saw them. Sure, he wasn’t exactly the leader of this motley crew, that title belonged to Price, but he was still a lieutenant. He still had to take care of people in some form, and while you weren’t really part of anyone’s group, that caring instinct took hold of him.

You sat there in silence, face twisting a little as you digested his sentence. Ghost turned to look at you, leaning in a little but being measured about it, hoping to not frighten you off.

“Are you okay, Y/N? I’m not usually good with this, but do you need to talk to someone?”

Your lip wibbled, tears forming in your eyes. You didn’t know what was happening, but this surge of emotion overcame you. Body trembling, shoulders tensing, you felt it coming up your throat.

You cried.

You cried and cried and cried.

Tears streamed down your cheeks and into your hands as you brought them to your face. As you clutched your head, fingers threatening to dig into your eyes, Ghost just sat there, unsure of what to do.

He had expected that you would start howling like a banshee, but it never came to that. Instead, muffled sobs and sniffles filled the silence of the supply closet.

As you trembled, you felt a light touch on your shoulder and back. Then, a force pulled you until you hit something fairly solid.

Instinctually, you nestled into his warmth, still crying. Ghost stared off into the distance, letting you have this moment, unjudged, to just let it all out.

Laswell had said you had been through a lot, and now, he was certain of it.

Several footsteps sounded outside, suggesting the presence of a group of people hurrying along the corridor. The murmur of voices came along with it, growing louder as the party drew nearer.

“Okay, this is the last place we haven’t checked.” Ghost recognised Price’s gravelly voice.

“I’ll have a look inside, you lot keep an eye out for them around here,” Kate replied.

She came in, only to see you resting against Ghost, eyes squeezed shut as you continued to cry.

Laswell made to approach, but Ghost raised his hand.

“Give them a moment. I’ll let Y/N know you wanted to see them.” He whispered.

She let out a sigh.

“If you start feeling weird, leave them and eat raisins.”

Before Ghost could ask one of the many questions floating around his head after that bizarre statement, Kate left.

Go eat raisins?

The way she had said it almost sounded like medical advice. What did Kate mean by that?

His eyes narrowed a little, but he wasn't going to pay too much attention to it. He supposed if it came to it, he’d just do as she said and ask his questions later. Ghost was pretty sure he wouldn’t start ‘feeling strange’.

However, gradually, Ghost began to notice an unfamiliar sensation overcome him: profound sadness. The feeling sort of made itself home at the back of his mind, being just about ignorable, but he found it curious. This probably sounded nuts saying it aloud, but Ghost felt as though this emotion didn’t belong to him.

He looked at you. You had stopped crying now and had resorted to staring off into space, your tear-stained face haloed by the light pooling in from the open door. You had entered the numbness stage, not really feeling anything. Although, you did know things were still intense, bubbling just under the surface, because you could sense it had transferred to Ghost, like a faint, developing stain on his mind.

It was probably best to conclude this ‘exchange’ and go your separate ways.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, wiping away some of your tears from his shirt with your sleeve, “Your top is probably really gross now.”

He let out a small chuckle as he watched you do your best to neaten yourself up, moving your hair aside and wiping away any signs of sadness on your face.

As you made to get up, you felt him gently stop you.

A lump in your throat formed as you locked eyes with him.

Ghost wanted to ask who you were, what you were, knowing full well you had had some effect on him… However, there was a time and place for those questions, and he understood that you probably wouldn’t like being interrogated. And so, he let you leave.

“Go eat raisins, they’ll, uh, help,” you blurted out before spinning on your heel and scampering off.

Raisins, again. Ghost’s brows knitted together under his mask. He decided he would take that advice… just in case.

Finally, you had space to breathe… well, you thought you did. Your hopes were quickly quashed as you halted at the sight of Laswell, standing a few feet ahead of you, down the corridor, arms folded, unimpressed.

You gulped.

She ushered you into the bathroom and closed the door. Then, she took a deep breath, before returning to face you.

“Y/N… I…” she sighed, scratching the back of her neck, “Look, if you want to blend into normal society, you gotta-”

“I’m leaving,” you cut her off, “I don’t think I’m any good here.”

Laswell was shocked.

“Y/N, no. You can’t. I still haven’t sorted out-”

“It’s fine. Just put it on my lexicon.”

“I don’t have a lexicon to transfer the information to yours.”

“What?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“This is my point. People out there don’t have lexicons. The guys here aren’t anything like the Arcadian Sons back at the Foundation. They’re not as strong. They can’t change. None of it. You’re not weak here.”

Laswell made to approach you and felt her heart sink a little as she watched you back up.

“Y/N, I can help you find a way to keep the Foundation off your tail but once you’re out there, you need to understand that you are not weak. We lamias are insanely potent, and that potency can seriously hurt people. You have to promise me that you’ll be careful. Being human isn’t easy.”

“Laswell, I wasn’t going to hurt him!” you shook your head, voice shaking a little as you laughed, nervously, “I know that these guys and the people out there are not the same as those in the Foundation. I’m not stupid!”

“I just need you to be careful. I have seriously hurt people and I don’t want you to make the same mistake.”

“I won’t.”

“You won’t?”

“Yes, I-”

“Shh!”

Laswell’s demeanour suddenly changed. She looked about, alert, pupils dilated.

“Someone’s eavesdropping.”

You tried to suss out who it was too, looking about just as Kate was.

“Who?” you asked.

Soap stood on the other side of the door, plastered against the wall, covering his mouth.

“Mactavish,” Laswell whispered under her breath.

Soap shuddered.

He looked down and saw the handle on the door begin to turn. Almost immediately, he took off.

The door swung open, and Kate peered out to an empty corridor. She hoped Soap hadn’t heard too much, sighing resignedly.

“Y/N,” she kept composed, continuing the conversation, “don’t overthink this. Just be aware of your strengths. The world’s not made of glass, but it easily can be if you’re not careful. I’m still working on contacting someone who can get your records deleted and make you officially not Red Room property, but it’s gonna take some time. Stay here in the meantime and keep calm, I don’t need you turning my boys into messes.”

“I’ll do my best. And I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Learn your lesson and stick to where I can keep an eye on you.”

You nodded, your mind wandering back to Ghost.

Laswell picked up on it.

“Ghost’s a good one. But don’t crowd him, he likes being mysterious and aloof.”

She chuckled as she watched you flounder, trying to excuse your sudden interest.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Kate. I’ll try.”

***

Ghost, for some odd reason, had volunteered to be on night watch again. Everyone was surprised and seriously discouraged him, especially after his little accident with you. However, all pleas for him to just go to bed fell on deaf ears. He was stubborn as a mule and adamant to be on lookout for the night.

Soap had initially joined the discouragement but soon was elated to have his mate with him. They both trekked the halls, looking around for any signs worthy of suspicion.

It had been a pretty quiet night, with little to nothing happening.

That was until the howling started.

Soap had gone from reclining in his chair on the ‘front porch’ of the base to sitting bolt upright, gun at the ready. Ghost gestured for him to lower his weapon.

“What was that?” Soap whispered.

Ghost shrugged, throwing a raisin up in the air, only to miss it as he tried to catch it with his mouth.

“Coyotes or something.”

“Nah!” Soap shook his head. “That’s too deep to belong to a coyote. It almost sounds like a person!”

“Coyotes sometimes sound like that,” Ghost remarked, stretching his legs out, “Remember when we were interrogating Hassan? Those coyotes sounded like a bunch of wailing women.”

“Freaky stuff.”

He watched Soap swallow hard, reclining back into his seat, albeit reluctantly.

“Awooo…” Ghost let out, with a snicker.

“Simon, that’s not funny.”

“Awooo! A-A-Awoooo!” The lieutenant howled into the night.

“Simon, shut up!”

Soap struck at him, lightly, only to then whip his head around at the sound.

“AWOOOOOO!” the forest replied.

Soap felt chills run up and down his spine. Ghost watched his face grow pale.

“Come on, Johnny, let’s go inside if you’re that spooked.”

He got up from the dinky chair and gestured for Soap to follow and he did so, not taking his eyes off the trees, deeply unnerved by the sounds of the night.

As they walked down the corridors, Soap stopped by your bag. He shined his torch at it, curiosity spurring him on to investigate.

“Those are Y/N’s things,” Ghost spoke with a stern voice, “Leave ‘em.”

“You know,” Soap mumbled as he squatted down before the open duffel bag, something shining between the lips of the open zip, “I think Y/N might be something supernatural, and so is Laswell.”

“Laswell?” Ghost raised an eyebrow under his balaclava.

“Aye. I think they’re both the same… thing?”

“Johnny, I don’t think we should be looking through Y/N’s shit. Let’s keep moving-”

CRASH!

“Soap!” Ghost snapped.

MacTavish’s eyes widened as he investigated the spilt contents of your bag, lightly holding a sleeve of your hepta-plate armour.

“What is this stuff?”

Now, Ghost was curious. He knelt down beside Soap, peering at it.

“It’s… shiny.”

He ran his finger over the scale-like texture of your chest piece, only to then reach the centre. There was a larger chunk at the heart of the armour and, wanting to see if it was a button or something, he gently gave it two taps.

They both gasped as they watched the entire raiment vanish from existence, only to then fizzle back like a glitching television screen.

“Oh my God,” was all Soap could say.

Ghost was stunned into silence, feeling the foreign fabric between his thumb and index finger.

“Who is Y/N?” he muttered, examining how the scales of your armour reflected the torchlight, iridescent, like the shell of a beetle.

As Ghost was about to activate the shroud mechanism again, someone from behind spoke up.

“What are you two doing?”

They both stood up and turned around, hearts kicking up a notch as they realised it was you.

You had your arms folded over your chest, your foot tapping on the floor as you eagerly awaited their excuses for going through your things.

“Y/N!” Soap remarked, “Uh…”

Ghost knew the Scotsman was going to start digging a hole for the two of them, hence why he elbowed him. Soap promptly shut up.

“I see you’re having another late-night stroll.” Ghost gestured at your… uh… clearly-being-up-ness.

#AND THE PLOT THICKENS #bloodhound fic #cod mwii fic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #phillip graves cod fic #valeria garza cod #john soap mactavish #kate laswell #cod mw2 werewolf au

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sammydem0n64 · 7 months

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OKAY ALSOOOOOO failure, ghost, and secret for Gleo Jksjkdjs

Born to be a badass bitch, force to wipe or smth idk FGHJKL

Failure:

This is such a FOUL question because ultimately you know what I'm going to say; the way she raised Guo and treats others around her.

On one hand, she basically raised her son to be a weapon for the mafia, partially knowing what she was doing. She loves Guo. She loves her babyboy so much. But that idea that someone loves her back this uncondtionally, that they'll step in and do anything for her, starting with mauling her shitty ex? It got to her. She was the middle child, largely emotionally neglected in favor of her prodigy siblings (which was entirely purposeful on her parents' part, they wanted to make her as much as a weapon as Donna and Melphis are), so having someone she didn't hold resentment towards and who gave her all the affection and attention she had always wanted... well, she jumped at the opportunity. It just so happened that she used this to make him fight her battles, and it isn't until the very end that Guo realizes that he was a child. He shouldn't have been the one to pick up the bat and smack Zeo around like a baseball. He shouldn't have that burden put on him and he shouldn't have been raised to believe he needed to protect Gleo at every waking moment, because she can fend for herself. He should've been the one being protected, not her.

And also just in general she. Pushes people away with her behavior. Her lax nature and refusal to tell Carot things leads to their relationship breaking, because. Erm. Flirting with people IN YOUR BOYFRIEND'S RESTURANT- even if it's a ploy to get them in a private location to kill them- is not a good thing! He'd be fine if you told him first but no, now he's reliving the cheating trauma!!! And there's also how she treats every interaction with her siblings like a joke which includes insulting Melphis constantly. I bet she insults Donna too for the bit! She's just playing around but has never stopped to consider that she's hurting her family, and that maybe she reveals in treating them like ass because deep down she still holds a small semblance of resentment towards them for stealing attention away from her. It's just so, so messy

She never meant to harm her family and loved ones directly but... her she is!

Ghost:

I DO think her relationship with Zeo haunts her in a way. She married a man who turned out to be very shitty towards her, trying to be controlling and basically only treating her like an object for his pleasure so he'd feel good about himself. And that man went on to harass both her and their son for years until he finally got the memo to stop showing up on their lawn.

That is obviously very traumatizing! Especially since her family never did anything to stop it! Under the guise that Firo would be angry if they got the police involved with their family Zeo got to roam free. And now she's being harassed constantly, her son is being harassed and traumatized by his father, and OH SHIT GUO JUST BONKED THAT MAN!! HE'S BRUTALIZING HIM OH MY GOD!! ...Looks like the police don't have to get involved after all!

She could care less about him nowadays, but learning that he's hot on her and Guo's tails out of spite is... not pleasing. Oh how she needs to deal with this pest who briefly ruined her life. Or better yet, how Guo needs to play exterminator!

Secret:

Aside from the criminal career...

that she stopped her family from intervening with the Zeo situation once Guo started beating him up. She repeated the rhetoric of not wanting to get Firo on their asses, and eventually claimed that now everything was fine. She let Guo continue to harm Zeo for two more years, let him defend her and stick it to their shared nusance. If Zeo didn't finally stop showing up who knows how long it would've gone on for. Who knows how many more times she'd announce to her son that his dad is back on the lawn and hand him the bat to deal with the issue.

She doesn't know one person knows, and they're the reason Zeo finally stopped coming to their home. Oh well!

#asks #My FAV fucked up and complicated mother #She loves Guo so much she loves her family ofc #But man. Girl you have made EVERY wrong and horrible decision out there!! YOU REPEATED THE CYCLE!!#GLEO NO NOT THE CYCLE PLEASE NOT THE CYCLE OH FUCKKKK #long post

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smileygoth · 2 years

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14. The Curse of My Blood (Vamptober 2022)

Find the full list of chapters here.

Safely clear of the forest, tensions flare out of control between Jazz and Lucas.

CW: Violence, emotional abuse, blood. Having an abusive relationship in my past, I felt the 'oof' writing it, so please read with caution if that's likely to trigger you, and take care of yourselves.

Word count: 3,452 words.

Image found here via Google.

The campervan bumped and rattled along the road as they made their escape. It quietened a little as they reached the main roads, but only a little. Jazz and Lucas barely noticed.

"What the hell were those things?" Jazz exclaimed, once her heart was no longer in her throat and she could unpeel her clenched fingers from the dashboard.

Lucas shook his head, eyes, glued to the road ahead. "I have no idea," he replied. "I've never seen anything like it."

"They looked like ..." Jazz hesitated, not sure she really wanted to say it aloud. "Like werewolves."

"Don't be stupid," Lucas scoffed, though weakly. "There's no such thing."

"No?" Jazz stared at him. "Most people think there's no such thing as vampires, too. Yet here we are. Who says there can't be werewolves as well? Or ghosts, or ... dragons, or ... fucking Bigfoot!"

Lucas cast her an uneasy glance. "I don't ... I never heard about ..." he stammered, then fell silent.

Jazz leaned back in her seat and rubbed her hands over her face with a tired groan. "Is there anything else you're not telling me, Lucas?"

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" Lucas snapped. "I told you, I had no idea those things even existed!"

"All I know is, every night I seem to be finding that I don't have the full story." She shot him a glare. "Every night there's another thing I don't know about or I'm not prepared for."

"I'm doing my best, Jazz!" Lucas's voice was getting louder as his temper flared, and Jazz could feel hers flaring in response. "We're not exactly in optimal fucking circumstances right now, you know?"

"Oh, are we going to go back to how the van was my bad idea again?"

"No - that's not what I-"

"Fucking hell. Just - find somewhere to stop, please," Jazz cut him off. "I'm hungry."

They lapsed into a tense, angry silence. Twenty minutes later they came across a service station - one of the big ones, with dozens of shops and fast food vendors that all stay open til the early hours. Lucas parked the van near the back of the car park, where the lights didn't entirely reach. There were three long, thick, deep scratches along one side of the van - scratches that looked an awful lot like long claw marks.

They split up briefly. Jazz went into the toilets and waited, hidden, in a toilet cubicle for someone to come in, took what she needed from them and left them believing they felt sick - probably carsickness or bad service station food. It was the least enjoyable feeding she'd had yet, but it did the job. She came out and waited for Lucas on a bench beneath a centrepiece consisting of fake ferns and palm trees, assuming he was doing the same as she had. She couldn't feel the pull of him, so she knew he couldn't be far.

How is this going to work exactly? the Voice pondered. You've got this whole love-him-hate-him thing going on, which is very dramatic and exciting, but you're blood bonded to shit and you physically can't leave the guy for more than an hour or two. Doesn't seem fair, does it?

"Piss off," Jazz muttered under her breath.

Hear me out, will you? He promised to take care of you and keep you safe, right? But since he dragged you into this life, all you've been doing is running. Running from the Camarilla, running from people, running from the police, running from fucking werewolves. Because of him, you're a murderer now. You're homeless, on the run, lost -

"We're not lost."

Do you even know where this service station is?

Jazz had to admit that she didn't.

You're just letting him drag you around because you don't know what else to do. Well, maybe it's time you started looking for a better teacher.

"I can't leave him," Jazz sighed. "You know that."

All I'm saying is, you might want to start looking for a way to try. Before he puts you in even more danger.

"What do I care if I'm in danger?" Jazz responded. "I killed myself, remember?"

"Who are you talking to?" Lucas asked.

Jazz looked up to see him standing before her. In his hands were two disposable coffee cups, both steaming through their little drinking spouts.

"Nobody," Jazz replied, not meeting his eye.

Lucas gave an understanding nod. "Ah. Still bothering you, is it?" He handed her one of the coffee cups. "I know we can't drink it, but it smells nice and the warmth feels good on your hands."

She accepted the cup and wrapped her hands around it. He was right; the warmth was soothing, and it did smell good. She wondered what it would taste like if she took a sip. Lucas sat down next to her. "We ... should talk," he said reluctantly.

"That sounds like the start of a classic break-up," Jazz muttered wryly.

Lucas smiled and shook his head. "You know it's not that. I never would. Together forever, remember?"

"Uh huh." Jazz sighed and looked around. There were a few late-night travellers scattered around the large indoor area, but no one close enough to overhear them.

"But it's not going to work if you think I'm lying to you." Lucas twisted on the bench so he could face her. "Why don't you trust me, Jazz?"

"Why don't I trust you?" Jazz repeated incredulously. "All I've done is trust you, Lucas! I've put my entire life and future in your hands! I've bonded myself to you, just like you asked me to!"

"But you still don't trust me, " Lucas insisted. "I can feel it. Why not?"

Jazz's temper flared again. "Oh, I don't know - maybe because you've been lying to me?"

"When have I ever lied to you?" Lucas protested, his eyes flashing with anger.

Jazz poked a finger into his chest, hard. "You said you'd protect me. You said that we are the terrifying things and I never have to be afraid again. You said I'd be strong. But all I am since you turned me is afraid! All we do is run! You lied! There is so much to be afraid of in this life, and I am weak and clueless and you are not telling me everything I need to know!"

"What else do you want me to tell you?" Lucas asked.

"Tell me about the things in the forest!" Jazz replied, her voice raising. "Tell me about the Camarilla! Tell me the rules that get me killed if I break them! Tell me what I need to know!"

"You don't need to know anything as long as I'm with you," Lucas protested. "I will keep you safe. Isn't that what I'm doing now? I got you out of that forest - which was your idea to go into, by the way -"

"Don't start with that blame shit again!" Jazz yelled. Her grip tightened on the coffee cup, crumpling it. Hot liquid spilled over her fingers, scalding her. She felt the pain dimly and threw the cup aside. "Nothing stopped you from telling me if you thought any of my ideas were bad!"

"I didn't think they were bad ideas!"

"Then quit blaming me when things go wrong! It's on both of us!"

"Will you please lower your voice?" Lucas yelled.

"Fuck off," Jazz retorted, getting up and heading for the exit.

A few feet from the doors, Lucas caught up to her. "Jazz, wait," he said, grabbing her elbow and turning her to face him. She stopped and glared at him. "You're right, I shouldn't be blaming you. I just ... I'm trying to understand how I can get you to trust me."

"Keeping things from me isn't the way," Jazz replied hotly. "Telling me to just blindly rely on you - how am I supposed to trust you? You clearly don't trust me."

"Of course I do!" Lucas sounded shocked.

"Then why don't you want me to know things? You only tell me the barest minimum. You're keeping me in the dark like your little ..." She gestured wildly. "I don't even know! I can't go anywhere without you, I don't know anyone else like us, I don't get a minute's privacy - I feel like I'm being held hostage! And I'm always scared! I'm hearing voices in my head all the time, telling me the meanest shit - I can't get the image of that little boy out of my head - I hate this!"

Lucas's expression dropped. "You said you loved me," he said dully.

Jazz sighed. "I do," she replied. "I do. And that's a problem too, because this whole thing is so fucking unhealthy it's unreal. We have got to sort this out, Lucas."

"Fine." Lucas continued to look at her in that dull, miserable way. "How?"

"Well ..." She took a deep breath. "I think we should go home. Go home and throw ourselves on the mercy of the Prince."

"What?" Lucas gave a bitter laugh. "Jazz, she'll kill us!"

"Perhaps. But there's a chance she won't right?" Jazz shook her head. "Lucas, we cannot go on like this! We need other vampires. I need other vampires."

"Why?" he demanded. "Why can't you just need me?"

"Oh my God." Jazz ran her hands over her face again, her temper fraying. "We've just been through this! You're not telling me everything! That's why!"

Lucas's expression hardened. "No, I see what this is. You want to leave me."

Jazz groaned. "Lucas ..."

"No, I get it now. Maybe you're even planning this with the Sheriff, to lure me in so they can take me out. Yeah, it makes sense now. How long have you two been plotting this?" He leaned in close, his blue eyes sparking like struck flint. "You fucking him too?"

The words hit Jazz like a slap to the face. She recoiled from him, her eyes wide and furious. "You piece of shit!" she spat. "How dare you!"

He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her close again. "Come on, Jazz, we're being honest with each other, remember? Have you been fucking him? Maybe sucking on his veins, getting a stronger blood bond to crowd out mine?"

Jazz shoved him away, the last threads of her temper snapping. "How the fuck could I be fucking him when I can never get away from you?" she screamed at him.

"But you want to, don't you?" Lucas yelled in her face. "Admit it! You've been plotting against me this whole time! You told the Sheriff where we were! Let those kids get into the van so maybe I'd get torched by sunlight! Took me into a forest full of werewolves hoping I'd get eaten by one!"

"Are you listening to yourself? You sound fucking crazy!"

Lucas's eyes blazed. "Don't you ever fucking call me that!" he screamed, his fingers digging into her arm.

Jazz stilled and looked him right in the eyes. "Well," she said, in a calm, cold voice, "If the straitjacket fits ..."

For a second, Lucas froze. In that second, which somehow seemed to stretch out forever, Jazz saw it happen. She sae his eyes blaze, then dull, and then begin to burn. She saw his jaw clench and heard his teeth grind together behind his lips. She saw the veins in his neck and temples start to throb. She saw his nostrils flare. She saw - or though she saw - something ripple beneath the skin of his face; a slight blurring to his features as something dark took hold of him. And she definitely saw the moment all sense and intelligence left his eyes.

Oh .... shit, the Voice said.

Then Lucas's mouth opened, displaying his long , fully extended fangs, and he let out a roar so bestial and rage-filled, that for a moment she thought of those growls they had heard in the forest. Time caught up with her, seeming suddenly to happen too fast. Lucas seized her by her shoulders and physically lifted and threw her into the glass doors. The sound of shattering glass in her ears deafened her, and she hit the floor beyond the doors with a painful thud. She had no time to react before he was on top of her. The punches came, one after another, so quick she couldn't see them, let alone react to them. She felt her nose shatter, her cheekbone, her jaw. She put up her hands to try and fend him off, and felt her fingers snap as he punched straight through them. Broken glass ground beneath her, cutting into her scalp. All she could see was blood and a swirl of confused colours. He was much too strong for her.

And here it is, the Voice said, even while he was beating her. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Then the punches stopped, and she blinked up to see three men trying to pull Lucas off her. Two of them held an arm each wile the third was trying to drag him up by his armpits. For a sick moment she knew - just knew - he was going to turn on them, and the service station was going to be made in to a bloodbath. But by some miracle, it was at that moment that the intelligence returned to his eyes. He relaxed, confused, and the men dragged him off of her. His eyes met hers and widened with horror. The men dumped him onto the floor a few metres away from her and he just sat, staring at the blood on his hands. Her blood.

Two more pairs of hands grabbed her arms and helped her to sit up. Warm, living hands. She ducked her head, trying to hide her face. She could already feel her blood trying to repair the damage and she didn't want them to see it.

"Jasmine," Lucas whispered. Though he was metres away, her keen ears picked it up even through the babble of voices around them. "I ... I'm so sorry ... I never wanted to ..."

Then he staggered to his feet. The three men tried to restrain him, but he yanked himself free of their grasping hands and fled out the broken glass doors. Two of them tried to chase him, but he was too fast.

"Jesus Christ!" the third man exclaimed. "I've never seen anyone go off like that! Are you okay, honey?"

"She's really banged up," one of the women said, her voice low with concern. "I think we might need an ambulance."

"No - no," Jazz said. Her voice was garbled and blurry from the blood in her mouth and her broken jaw. "It's not as bad as it looks. I'll be fine."

"Oh, sweetie, I don't know," the woman said doubtfully.

The sound of squealing tyres interrupted them. Jazz looked over her shoulder to see the campervan speeding across the car park toward the exit. She struggled to her feet, taking a few futile steps after it. "Son of a bitch!" she spluttered, blood spraying from her lips.

"Was he your ride?" the woman asked. She nodded. With her back to them, she pushed her jaw into place. She could feel the bones knitting together again under her palm; the sensation made her stomach turn. But at least she could talk properly again.

"What an asshole," the man said. The other two men were returning now, walking back across the car park under the bright lights.

Jazz turned to them still keeping her head low and her hand to her face. "Thank you for your help," she said. "But really, I'll be fine. I just need to clean myself up a bit."

How are you going to get out of here, Jazz? the Voice screamed. You're miles from anywhere. What happens when the sun rises?

"Let me help you to the bathroom," one of the women said. "And I can give you a ride to the nearest train station if you like."

Jazz tried to smile. "That ... would actually be really helpful. Thank you."

"Can't believe he just left you here," the man said again. "What a prick."

More people were running over now - employees of the station, aghast at the damage to the doors. The man waved Jazz and the women away. "I'll take care of this," he declared. "I'll give them all the details and make sure the cops get called. You just get cleaned up."

"No police," Jazz protested. "Please."

But the man was already striding toward the employees, hands in the air as if he needed to wave them down. One of the women took Jazz's arm and led her away. The other joined the two men as they came in through the door, presumably to tell them what was going on.

The woman taking Jazz to the bathrooms was maybe in her late forties, with neatly cropped blonde hair and glasses that looked slightly too big for her face. She reminded Jazz of the mum in Edward Scissorhands. She had the same kind eyes as well. "What's your name, sweetie?" she asked.

"Jazz," Jazz replied.

"Nice to meet you, Jazz, I'm Karen. Is Jazz short for something?"

"Jasmine."

"Oh! That's nice."

Karen steered Jazz to the sinks, leaving her briefly to grab a handful of toilet paper from a cubicle. While she was gone, Jazz looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were puffing up, her nose was oddly slanted, and she had lost some of her teeth. Some of her fingers were pointing in wrong directions too. With a glance behind her, she straightened her fingers one by one, then cracked her nose back into place. Each one hurt like a bitch, but right after she could feel the bones mending.

Karen returned with the tissue and surveyed her in the mirror. "It doesn't look nearly as bad in here," she remarked. "Must be the lighting."

Jazz nodded in mute agreement. Karen dampened some of the tissue under a tap and started wiping the blood away from Jazz's face. "Let's see what the real damage is," she murmured in soothing tones.

Jazz kept her mouth firmly shut as Karen worked, wincing. Karen kept apologising for hurting her, but it wasn't her - Jazz could feel her missing teeth regrowing in her gums. She let out a silent groan. She was glad she was healing and all, but did it have to happen right away? It was bloody inconvenient at this particular moment in time.

Karen finished washing away the blood and surveyed her again. "Why, you've hardly any cuts," she exclaimed. "All that blood must have come from your poor nose!"

"It does tend to gush a bit when it bleeds," Jazz muttered through tight lips.

Karen nodded. "Good thing the doors were safety glass, huh?" She ran her manicured fingers through Jazz's tangled, bloodstreaked hair, dislodging a few shards of the glass of question. "I think you'll live, dear."

Jazz repressed a snort of laughter. "Thank you," she said. "For your help."

"What kind of human being would I be if I didn't help?" Karen smiled kindly. Jazz had to suppress another laugh at that. "You know, you really should think about pressing charges. That kind of behaviour is unacceptable."

Jazz shook her head. "He's in enough trouble. And he's never done it before. But thanks."

Karen pursed her lips with a soft sigh and shook her head. "Well, I don't approve. But you do what you think is best. You know him, I don't."

"If you could just get me to the nearest train station, like you said, I'd really appreciate it."

"Absolutely. Can't leave you stranded here, can we?" Karen put a comforting hand on her arm. "You hear such horror stories about young girls hitch-hiking, don't you? I couldn't possibly leave you here."

"Can ... can we go now?" Jazz asked. She felt strangely numb, and yearned to be somewhere alone.

Karen looked doubtful. "Well, you might need to talk to the men outside first ..."

Jazz shook her head. She had no idea what time it was. Catching Karen's eye, she reached out with her mind and pushed. "No, please. I just want to go home."

Karen sighed again, and her expression softened. "Alright," she agreed. "Come on then, I was just about ready to leave anyway."

Karen escorted Jazz out with her arm around her hunched shoulders. When the men at the door tried to stop them, Karen gave them a no-nonsense glare and shook her head. "She's had enough," she said. "She needs to go home." Without stopping, she whisked Jazz past them and out into the night.

Her car was a relatively new Skoda - "One of the new good ones", she announced happily - in a deep shade of green that almost looked black in the shadows. Karen opened the door for her and ushered her in, got in behind the wheel and fussed over the heating for a few minutes, wanting to make sure Jazz was comfortable. Then she drove off, heading west. Jazz responded automatically, not really listening. She was looking up into the night sky, past her own reflection in the glass, wondering how long she had until the sun rose ... and when Lucas's pull on her would start up again.

#vamily #vampire the masquerade #vampire #vampirism #dark pack #world of darkness #vtm #vamptober #malkavian #werewolves

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ladyanthropology · 2 years

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July 20th, 2022

During class this morning we talked about the Graveyard Book briefly (so good, I highly recommend reading it if you can), ghosts, and what we did over our 4-day unplanned weekend.

After class, I went to Kensington Palace (I know that place from Red, White, Royal Blue - that one scene, ugh! My heart! If you know, you know). It's beautiful inside and out and they were doing a special exhibit called "Life Through a Royal Lens" which is all about the evolution of photography in and around the Royal Family. I saw both the King's and Queen's State Apartments as well as where Queen Victoria was born and raised. Reading her story in the rooms where it happened was so amazing and pleased my little historian heart. When I read about her throwing out those who tried to take advantage of her and de-throne her when she was younger...man what a QUEEN!!!

Despite its beauty and haunting history, it's also just plain haunted. No place with a history like Kensington Palace - where people were born, lived, and died in - isn't.

Week 3, Ghosts, Spooky Tales, and Race:

When I visited Kensington Palace, a beautiful place and beautifully haunted, I heard about some ghost stories about the palace. One story was about young Prince William, who died at the age 11 and shortly after his birthday, The tale that was told at the time was that he danced so much at his party that he fell into a fitful sleep and never woke again (possible cause of death was a brain tumor but no one knows how he actually died) and he continues to wander and dance around the halls of Kensington Palace. Another story is that of Princess Sophia, an aunt of Queen Victoria. The Princess was blind for her first eleven years and after suffering an illness that led to her death. She was a talented seamstress and many servants claimed that after her death they could still hear her spinning wheel working and some even claimed seeing her wandering around or working at her spinning wheel. I thought about class and monster theory and our talks on ghosts. The first thought when someone thinks about ghosts is the violent scary ones you see in The Conjuring and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (both the book and the movie). But the stories I was told at Kensington Palace were all about peaceful spirits that just exist and wander around and don't really interact with people. It's such a different tale to what is typically (and expected) of haunted places.

When I heard these ghost stories, I thought about the classic things you hear about in ghost stories and how they are matched in the stories I heard in Kensington Palace. The child just wandering around and playful, the women calm and quietly in the background, and the man being more hostile. Over and over again, no matter where and when, there's typically a theme in ghost stories - genders typically have a certain role; men always being hostile, child typically being playful or just there, and women have two roles, either silent and just redoing what they did in life like Princess Sophia or a violent ghost who kills, since all these stories are old and from another time they follow stereotypical gender ideals and only the two genders are given stories, very little is seen of other sexualities or genders and if there is they perform black magic and are the "monsters" of the story. Most of the time when I hear stories, I typically don't get told the ethnicities of the people, but it's usually assumed they are white. If there are other ethnicities, they are usually more violent or monstrous ghosts, who only want to cause harm to those around them. It's sad and racist and clearly a biproduct of a different time. Since ghosts are always from hundreds of years ago, I unfortunately don't think we will ever see a ghost story without racist undertones somewhere in it.

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“Us in the graveyard, we wants you to stay alive. We wants you to surprise us and disappoint us and impress us and amaze us.”

“Bod quite liked crows. He thought they were funny and he liked the way they helped to keep the graveyard tidy.”

“It must be good to have somewhere that you belong. Somewhere that’s home.”

“You are ignorant, boy,” said Miss Lupescu. “This is bad. And you are content to be ignorant, which is worse.”

#london #studyabroad #education #student #ghosts #kensingtonroyal #kensington palace #history #beautiful #haunted #kings and queens

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ankhmutes · 2 years

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A weird-ass dream that could have had a ghost in it? A real ghost? Help me out.

I've had a lot of strange things happen to me recently. It's usually only when I am dreaming, or when things are happening on specific dates like someone's birthday, a recent big event, etc.

Anyway, no one here is probably interested in that bullshit, but to the point.

I had a dream this morning. I was restless, sleeping in fits and bursts through the night, waking up every couple of hours. Then the dream happened between 3 and 5 this morning during the eclipse, I don't know if that information is relevant but, still.

The point to this is, the girl wanted me to tell her story. So, I don't know who needs to hear this, or even if this is real, but I am telling the story for her so I can say I did my part. I want to feel like I did something for her.

If this sounds like something true, let me know. If it's total bullshit, sure, let me know too. But I don't want to have on the off chance, someone's true story not told. Everyone's story deserves to be told. So if you're not interested, you can just keep on scrolling or just read below for the story and let me know if it sounds like a legit thing.

I was told to go through this store, to the back and behind it were some apartments. I entered one, where work was being done, or had been done. A young woman in her late twenties, she was a social worker, psych student, graduate student in social work, something like that. She was a beautiful woman of color, with wide eyes and full red lips. She had a baby. I was talking with her because she had gotten some of my mail, and I said I had never lived here. I may have stayed here briefly, but never lived here.

Then the girl came.

She appeared by my side, staring at me with her soulful eyes. In one eye she was blind, or she had a patch over the eye, or a black eye; it was hard to tell. Her eyes were bright, her hair brown ringlets down to her shoulders. Her face was freckled, she was older than seven, but younger than twelve or thirteen, prepubescent, she hadn't developed anywhere. Her skin was a golden brown color, very tan color. I don't know if she was mixed or black or Hispanic, or something but she was not white. Her body was big boned, but she was so thin. She was wearing a grey or tan oversized t-shirt and perhaps shorts underneath, the shirt was just so large on her and it had three holes in the back of the shirt, right where her left shoulder blade was. It appeared that she may have been starved, perhaps. Her thin face stared at me and without speaking, I watched her walk through the room up to a brown TV set, one of those older tube tvs, and turn and look at the dining room where a birthday party was set up. I got the impression at the point and I was telling the woman about the girl, that the girl was abused, starved, and died here. Or someone killed her, something. The woman cried and said she knew who the girl was. The girl continued to stare at me and then turned to watch the birthday party.

It was pirate themed, and a boy of approximate age to her was there, but he was stocky and short-haired, in good health. I got the impression he was a brother or a cousin, somehow related to her. He ran out of the room to join other children who were swimming in a swimming pool outside. I followed the chaos to the sliding door, where I found a beagle. The beagle was blind in one eye, the same eye as the girl, and I picked him up, he was the girl's dog, and I had to take him back through the apartment, where I put him down to give him back to the girl, and I was pushed out. I was PUSHED out of my dream, and I could hear the dog bark as i woke up. I am writing this, and I still can feel where I was pushed between my shoulder blades.

I never got a name. I never got any dates, or anything at all. Just the story and general impressions.

If someone wants me to, i can do a sketch. A shitty sketch, but a sketch of the girl or of the woman in the dream.

so no, I'm not the ghost whisperer or a psychic, or anything. I just have weird things happen to me sometimes. I'll take this down eventually I suppose.

#weird dreams #paranormal #I don't know what to do #why me why this #is this real #what the fuck was that #just in case idk #ghosts in dreams #I'm not a ghost whisperer #psychic #intuition #just following my gut #lucid dreaming #dream situation

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1kook · 4 years

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attachment: 1 image

— jjk x (f) reader

summary; But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere. warnings; sexting, dick pics, dirty talk?, phone sex, vivid depictions of jungkook being just so sexy bc its true, rating; mature (18+) misc; mentions of youtuber kook 🥰, he’s just horny, stupid selfie trends (see here), he’s a little whiny but so hot v.v wc; 4.6k

notes; I've had this in my drafts since april 😐 n then i was like maybe we should actually finish this so i started n then last night i hit another follower milestone!!! so then i rlly forced myself to finish this bc i was so 🥺🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 anyway enjoy lmk what u think its not proofread bc uhhhhh yeah 🤩

You’re at work when it happens.

It’s sometime between your usual listless thoughts of what to write for your weekly reflection papers for some course, and your trip to your store’s pharmacy to bother a coworker. Your phone vibrates in the pocket of your work apron. You’re normally pretty good at ignoring the sound, most of the times it’s just a classmate asking for help on homework or Jimin lamenting his love life, so you’ve grown used to ignoring the tiny vibrations, stocking a quarter shelf of different cooking oils before something in your brain tells you to check your phone.

You already know it’s not something grave, but that thought alone means nothing at the sight of the tiny jungkook♡ that appears at the very top of the list of notifications. Your boyfriend’s texts tended to be wildcards, never following a certain routine or alluding to any specifics. He could send you a long paragraph on how much he misses the scent of that one shampoo, the one you’d briefly run through last year because your usual brand was out of stock, with a ten point explanation on why you should switch back to it. Or two word, caveman sentences that drove you crazy because you never understood what exactly he wanted when he’d send those nondescript “munchies dip” texts.

You unlock your phone, clicking to the messenger app instead of directly on the notification. Hopefully the preview will give some warning on whether you should invest in this conversation or not. You hated the read receipts on messages, choosing to ghost conversations as you pleased, but Jungkook had wiggled his way into your phone one afternoon and specifically turned them on for his chat with you, and you’d never turned them off since. So he knows if you choose to ignore Attachment: 1 Image at 1:43pm exactly, and he'll pester you about it until you respond.

You contemplate it all for twenty seconds. It could be a variety of things, you guess, but the only way to find out is to actually see with your own eyes what he’s up to this time. He knows better than to distract you at work, is usually really good at waiting until your shift is over to spam you with messages. For him to send you something now, only a few hours into your shift, is uncharacteristic of him.

But you glance down the aisle anyway, taking note of some elderly woman you’d helped a few minutes prior and another teenager aimlessly walking around, probably looking for the snack aisle. You inhale and press down on your chat with Jungkook.

It takes you a moment to make out exactly what the image is, twisting and turning your phone around as you fight to see it without raising the brightness. It’s only when your eyes finally adjust to the dark screen, the faint beeping of the check-out registers fading into the distance, that you realize it’s a shot of the front of his sweatpants.

“Hm?” you murmur, getting brave enough to pinch the image between two fingers, zooming in until you’re able to decipher a multitude of details. For one, there’s a Flaming Hot Cheeto stain on the hem of his sweatpants, the same one you’d accidentally put on there a few weeks back and haven’t been able to wash out since. Then there’s that huge palm of his, tattoos and all, rested carefully against his thigh. It’s veiny and thick in all the right places, bringing all the attention to his knuckles, which you guess is what he was going for when you consider the centerpiece of the image—his hardened dick straining against the grey material.

There’s no text attached to the message, no snapchat font slapped over the image, so you wonder what exactly he wanted you to do with this information mid-shift. Well, realistically, you know exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t mean you won’t clown him before getting there. After all, Jungkook was seldom the naughty texter; sexting annoyed him, he would whine, because he would do all that and not even get to feel the true pleasure of sex, of being inside you. You’ve dabbled in it here and there, but it never went as perfectly as it did in pornos. He’d drop his phone and forget it, or you would straight up ignore the damn device as you went all in on yourself.

But for Jungkook to initiate some sexting, nevertheless sexting at 1pm on a Saturday, when you were at work and you were almost positive he was supposed to be on stream right now? Unheard of, you had to mark this down somewhere.

you what’s this about?

You decide to play it safe, because as exciting as the image of Jungkook at his computer chair, cock hard and angry at the thought of you, fluffy hair ruffled in that way you adored, jaw twitching and tightening as he touched himself, moaned deep and rough and just how you liked and—

As nice as that image was, for all you knew this vague message was Jungkook sending you a picture from a week ago to purposefully fuck with you at work.

jungkook♡ what time u get off? jungkook♡ miss you bad baby

Your stomach flips, and it takes everything in you to not squeal and bounce between the shelves like a toddler on a sugar rush. Here was your boyfriend, the cutest, sweetest boy, sending you dirty pictures of himself and telling you how much he needed you. Yes, YOU, not some random on the street, or someone else in a club, Jungkook needed pleasure and that pleasure could only come from you.

You glance back down the aisle again, checking your surroundings for the second time that day. You’ve been standing here, stock cart empty for a little over five minutes now, so it’s probably best to change location lest your manager come barking down your neck. You send one quick text before heading off for stock again.

you 4pm :(

Your phone dings again just as you’re leaving the stockroom, but you decide to check it once you get to the hygiene aisle you need to work on next. Still, the prospect of Jungkook having texted you has you walking with a skip in your step, one your coworker teases you about when you pass by her.

jungkook♡ fuck jungkook♡ tell me what panties youre wearing jungkook♡ please ?

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from smiling at the tone you’d picked up from his message. There was no doubt he’d been riled up for a while now, and you wonder if he sat through his usual Saturday morning streams with his cock hard, pushed against the edge of his desk like you knew he did when such things happened. The thought has you nearly fumbling with a bottle of aloe vera.

you seamless black thong you the one you bought me at the last vs sale

Briefly, you wonder if you should have lied and told him you were wearing that red lace set he’d given you last Valentine’s Day, the one he’d bought with his first big YouTube check. But the beauty of being in a relationship with someone like Jungkook is that you could have told him you were wearing grandma undies and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet.

jungkook♡ mm jungkook♡ tiny ones u ruined last time?

You set your phone down, speed stock a row of sunscreen like you’re on some shelf stocking national competition, before daring to text Jungkook again. Your cheeks are still warm, and your hand tightens dangerously around a bottle of shaving cream.

Before you can formulate some response, he’s sending another one in.

jungkook♡ u soaked those jungkook♡ came fast that day jungkook♡ want u so bad

Your cheeks burn, a little embarrassed that he remembers such details. As with all Victoria’s Secret panties, they were, like Jungkook said, extremely thin. You pause, shift your stance just barely, but you’re definitely wet. Not terribly so, but with this fabric, you’d start to notice it sooner than with others.

you mm you makin me wet bunny

It’s not a complete lie, but knowing Jungkook this is exactly what he needs to hear to get that competitive streak going. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, stocking another section of men’s shaving cream. It takes longer for him to message you back, and you wonder if he got off fine on his own. If it’s over now, at least he provided you with some distraction midway into your shift.

When he texts you again, you’ve almost completely convinced yourself he’s finished, so the Attachment: 1 Video that appears on your lock screen throws you for a loop.

It’s a short clip, no longer than ten seconds, but it has you scrambling to lower the volume on your device as some unsuspecting mother of two wanders past. You flash her your practiced smile, the same one you give all the store’s customers. Not like your boyfriend is jacking it off on your phone, shallow pants filtering out from the speakers.

You turn your phone over carefully after she leaves, try to at least pretend you’re still doing your job as you play the video again.

Sweats are gone, but boxers remain. Legs deliciously exposed, thick thighs with muscles that ripple when he moves. Shirt pulled up just slightly to showcase that broad expanse of tummy, cute belly button and defined abs that tighten with each glide of his palm over the outline of his cock. Your mouth fills with drool at the sight. He was so hot.

Your brain hasn’t even processed it yet, all your energy directed towards your clenched pussy, when he shoots another text.

jungkook♡ im so fckin hard jungkook♡ wanna kiss yuo every where baby jungkook♡ come ove r soon ??

Shutting your eyes and counting to ten doesn’t help ward off the sudden wave of horniness that consumes you, but it does remind you of the job you’re supposed to be doing now. You shake your head, as if the image of Jungkook’s dick throbbing beneath his boxers, low voice in your ear, will magically disappear. It doesn’t, and it plagues you even more when you begin stocking a section of sunscreen, numbly instructing yourself on what to do next. Shaving cream, sunscreen, lotion next, you repeat.

It doesn’t help.

Two minutes later and you’re scrambling for the phone you’d hastily tucked into your apron pocket, tapping your passcode in until your messages with Jungkook are pulled up again.

you after work you promise

Your head is absolutely spinning, the coil in your stomach too tight for you to try and be a functioning member of society. Something in you says to sneak off to the bathroom and call him, but your boss is a little bit of a prick when he wants to be, thinks you take too many bathroom breaks as is.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. A curt call of your name has you whirling to face your shelves again, phone tightly pressed against your ribs like maybe it’ll melt into your skin and he won’t see it. At the same time, your sudden fright has you scrambling to turn it off, fingers sloppily pressing against the buttons, hitting the volume like seven times before you eventually feel the familiar click that signals it’s off.

Your boss disappears shortly after, and with his sudden appearance having made every hair on your body stand, you find yourself now slumping against your stock cart. Jesus, that man was a handful to deal with.

The paranoia sticks for a little bit, has you stocking shelf after shelf like a robot until you finish the entire row of hygiene products, back stiff from bending over so much. It’s only when you return to the stockroom ten minutes later that you dare take your phone out again.

A pleasant surprise awaits.

It would appear that during your haste to hide your phone from your boss— Jungkook’s scandalous messages and all —your frantic hands had done something else. A fuzzy picture on your end, a blurry display of lotion bottles you had stacked just before your boss’s impromptu appearance, with no words to accompany them. Normally Jungkook would have ignored that; you frequently sent accidental messages like this, butt texted him, he says.

But there’s something about Jungkook’s horny brain that makes him do stupid things, makes him blow up your phone with a series of question marks, call you four times, whine and fuss in your message thread, and eventually, send you probably the oddest image to date.

jungkook♡ ??? jungkook♡ ????what is that jungkook♡ baby please jungkook♡ I don’t get it ??

jungkook♡ Missed Call (4)

jungkook♡ baby jungkook♡ what does it mean jungkook♡ please ur drivign me insane jungkook♡ jsut wanna hear yuor voice jungkook♡ fuck please just

And then, there’s another one of those cursed Attachment: 1 Image messages.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are. You’ve been dating Jungkook for a few months now, know he had that sort of unique personality most college dropouts turned YouTubers do. But every now and then the absurdity of his actions makes you question him still, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that pretty head of his to warrant such ideas, makes him balance a bottle of body lotion on the thick outline of his cock like this.

Unlike the first few images, this one was taken in front of a mirror. The blinding fluorescent light in his bathroom paints him in a stark color, has every inch of his pretty face on display for you. Rosy cheeks, dewy skin. Perfectly swollen cock straining beneath his grey boxers, curved up against his hip. Shirt pulled up, finally freeing that expanse of muscles on his abdomen, cute little belly button on display once again. The red material is pulled up to his mouth, pearly white teeth biting down on the fabric, and he’s got this flushed expression on his face.

But the real star of the show isn’t his chiseled abdomen or sexy expression, but the sheer hardness of his dick that lets him balance a bottle of body lotion over it, like a fuckin’ shelf or something. He’s so hard, dick so full beneath his boxers. So big too, the little boxers pulled taught around said engorged cock and thick thighs.

Your brain says to laugh, to tease him for being such a clown even when he’s horny as hell. He won’t take it to heart, will probably laugh along with you and you’ll add it to your still growing list of funny memories.

But your caveman libido says call him, so that’s what you do, ducking down behind a new shipment pallet with a squeak as the phone rings. It only lasts four seconds before he picks up, voice breathy and low, but it sounds so loud in the silence of the stockroom.

He doesn’t even let you get a greeting in. “You like my picture, baby?” he husks. It sounds like he’s right there, right beside you, speaking into your ear. Your pussy throbs at the way he sounds. Paired with the picture from before, it has your body tingling all over.

“What the fuck is that?” you hiss, trying to not let the sudden overflow of arousal leak into your words. Jungkook chuckles.

“What?” he huffs. There’s the brief sound of shuffling, the scratchy noise of his phone presumably being pressed against his shoulder. “I’m so hard, baby,” he sighs before you can pretend to reprimand him any further. “Fuck— you, can you just talk to me?” he groans, and the disgusting sound of him spitting into his palm fills your ear.

Your face feels warm, eyes nervously peering across the stockroom like your boss will suddenly appear now of all times to rip you from this important phone call. The anxiety and arousal mix weirdly, have your leg bouncing but every new movement sends a shock up your aching cunt to your chest, and then out to the tips of your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be doing that when I’m at work,” you murmur hurriedly, moving to nervously bite at your finger. Jungkook moans softly.

“Uh huh,” he says.

The air conditioning turns on and you nearly jump out of your own skin. “Kook,” you stress, frazzled by your own burning arousal and the fear of being caught. Like you said. Weird mix. “I— not when I can’t respond.”

He shudders on the line. “You’re responding now,” he points out. You hate when he’s right. Before you can defend yourself, define what a proper response is in this scenario, he’s beating you to the punch. “Baby,” he whimpers, voice so airy yet low, makes your eyes roll into the back of your head, back unconsciously arching. “Couldn’t stop— fuck.”

Your mouth feels dry, all and any form of lecturing fading from your thoughts as you become consumed in Jungkook’s little whines and whimpers. He talks smoothly, a modern day Casanova, and it’s certainly because of that cult-like harem he’s gathered on YouTube. Teenage girls who kiss his ass, tell him he’s cute and dreamy. Make his ego so big.

But then he gets horny and can barely contain that lisp you tease him about, shivers and melts when you put his cock in your mouth. “Couldn't what, bunny?” you mumble, voice drawn tight because now you were really horny, and it was all his fault.

The nickname makes him mewl prettily, your speaker suddenly going scratchy as he fumbles with his phone. “C- Couldn't stop thinking about you— your mouth,” he admits, and now you’re certain he’d sat through that Saturday morning stream like this. “T- Tits,” he adds, lisp slipping through. “Fuck.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you remind yourself now was not the time or place to get yourself off. But, well. That didn’t mean you couldn’t get him off. “Sat through your stream like this?” you murmur, circling your kneecap with a trembling finger as if it’ll ward away the raging lust in your abdomen. Jungkook confirms with a breathy moan. “Had all your little fans wondering why you ended so early.”

He groans. “No,” he chokes, voice hot from how much it wavers. “They— I lied,” he confesses out of nowhere, “s- said I had a doctor’s appointment.”

You muffle a giggle into your palm. “Naughty,” you tease. “Too hard to do your job.”

“Just,” he cuts off, voice feathery. He sounds so close and you haven’t even said anything of substantial value yet. “Tell me,” he says quietly, “what to— mmh, what to do.”

A smirk consumes your features. You try to hide it, but there’s no one here anyway so you’re left grinning at an unpacked box of dental floss like a madwoman. “Why?” you inquire playfully, bask in the sad little whimper he responds with. “Shouldn’t you know how to make yourself cum?”

Another groan of frustration, desperation seeping into his tone when he speaks again. “Baby, please,” he begs, and it feels good. Feels nice to have this big YouTuber begging for you like this, whimpering your name like his doesn’t appear on the top 25 most viewed. “Like when you— ah — when you tell me… what to do.”

Your body feels hot, thighs pressing together with each whimper that falls from his lips. “Okay,” you concede, and he audibly moans in relief. “Tip first,” you instruct softly, eyes defocusing as your brain slowly starts to manifest the image of Jungkook spread out on his bed. Thick thighs, grey boxers pulled taught around them, fat cock between his pretty hands, inked knuckles squeezing around his member. You swallow. You can tell exactly when Jungkook does as you say because another muffled moan fills the speaker. “One finger,” you remind him quickly, head spinning from the mere memory of his dick. “Run it… run it over the slit, bunny.”

“Nngh—“ Jungkook sputters. You can only imagine the face he’s making now, the bottom lip he’s bitten raw by now. He does it a lot; it’s a nervous habit. But as sexy as it looks when you’re in bed, you know he has sensitive lips because of it, bleeds easily if he’s too harsh. You have half the mind to remind him about it now, but then he’s hurriedly gasping out for more. “And, and then? Wha— what then, baby?”

He sounds so sweet, melodic voice dripping with honey. “Touch your balls,” you say a little breathlessly. “Don’t squeeze,” you add, “just roll your palm over them.” Your palm squeezes against your thigh, as if it’s remembering the feel of his body, the soft skin between his thighs when you’re down there. He gets so jittery, thick thighs nearly crushing you if you drag him along too much. “O- Other hand on your cock,” you stumble, thighs squeezed together. “Stroke yourself just like I do, bunny.”

Jungkook complies. “Just like you?” he mumbles, suddenly sounds farther away. As if he’s dropped his phone off to the side. “Fffuck,” he grunts, “m- mouth is so pretty.”

“Hm?” you inquire, so consumed with tampering down your growing arousal for a second that you miss his sentence.

Jungkook’s breath stutters, and for a moment you’re met with the wet squelch of his cock in his hand. And then, “pretty mouth… make me— make me wanna see you cry.”

You bite your lip. “Why,” you say tentatively, finally caving in with a hand fluttering over the front seam of your jeans. Not a question, more of a gentle nudge for him to spill his thoughts.

“Be- Because,” he cries, fucking into his hand. He sounds closer and closer. You have to wonder just how long he had been riled up. It’s been a while since his first message, he was probably desperate by now. “Y- You’re so nice,” he cries, and the sentiment, though oddly out of place, makes your heart squeeze with adoration for the boy on the line. “Wanna be,” he groans, “wanna be so fucking mean to you, baby.”

The sudden change of tone makes you choke on a moan, hand pressing against your mound like it’ll somehow penetrate the thick material of your jeans and give you the sensations you crave. As it stands, it’s a muted feeling you get instead. When your hands fail, his voice compensates. “Fffuck, don’t you— don’t you think about it too?”

Admittedly, no.

Jungkook had always been a gentleman in bed. Always cared for your needs before his own, went out of his way to make you feel pampered and adored during your most vulnerable moments. Contrary to what his online persona might say, he was a good boy. Sweetest boy you knew, touched you like you were made of glass.

So to suddenly learn of this dream— fantasy? kink? —of his that you would certainly enjoy equally as much, well. It made you whimper into your palm, eyes worriedly flickering toward the stockroom’s entrance.

“Why?” you whisper, feeling like a broken doll repeating the same phrase over and over again. You’re suddenly aware of how hot everything was. Your polo felt sticky against your spine, apron too tight, jeans too stuffy. How long had you been hiding in here for? You don’t even know. Hopefully your absence on the floor had gone unnoticed.

Jungkook pants into the line; everything sounds so sticky and wet on his end, hand undoubtedly working away at his cock. “Shit,” he curses, doesn’t really answer your question until you prod a second time. “I- I like it,” he stammers. “When you… fuck, when you look small.” He elaborates before you can even ask, breath heavy and drawn out. He was so close. “When your mouth… when it hurts,” he says, thoughts a scrambled mess. “Like when you— when you cry because my cock is— it’s too big for you.”

A blatant ego boost you’ll ignore for now. Not like you can focus on too many things right now anyway. “Your cock is big, bunny,” you agree softly instead. Your legs feel cramped from crouching so long, so you push yourself to your feet. Except then you’re made aware of how fucking wet you are, panties soaked from the phone call with your boyfriend. You shift and they stick to your folds, make you release a shaky exhale that Jungkook doesn’t miss.

“I— you’re wet,” he says boldly, and this time your meek confirmation isn’t a lie. Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I—“ cut off by his own whiny cry, probably bucking into his hand like a madman by now. “Wanna, wanna kiss you everywhere,” he says, a call back to his earlier message. Your legs feel like jello. You want him to kiss you everywhere too— lips, tits, cunt that is dripping for him now.

“I- I’ll be over soon,” you stammer, feeling like you’ll pass out if he carries on any further. He sounds so good on the line, soft pants, rough growls. You can’t possibly listen anymore, not when you’re so wet and horny in the middle of your shift. “Just,” you pause, can’t get the image of his pretty cock out of your mind. Every blink makes it more vivid, reminds you of the vein on the underside, the exact shade of the tip.

“What?” Jungkook hisses, voice higher than usual, parts of it lost under the rapid movements of his hand. “Tell me, baby, tell me what to do,” he begs hoarsely, “I’ll do it.” Sounds so desperate and needy, two seconds away from busting all over his hand.

You have to lean against the wall of the stockroom to ground yourself, remind yourself you’re not in the same situation as Jungkook and can’t cum in your pants like a teenager. “J- Just cum,” you choke, eyes fluttering shut.

He must’ve been waiting for that command, because the second the words leave your throat he’s filling the line with breathy groans and cries as he comes all over himself, probably ruins his t-shirt. The sounds have your hips unconsciously bucking forward into nothingness, the frustration of not being able to cum with him manifesting in the form of a tiny little sob. Luckily, he doesn’t catch it.

When it’s all said and done, he’s left panting into the receiver, flooding your speaker with breathy sighs that only make you more and more aroused.

“You’re terrible,” you frown, cheeks flushed, body tingling. You flip your wrist over and check the time; it’s been about sixteen minutes since you disappeared from outside. Sixteen minutes of listening to Jungkook touch himself and moan and whine and whimper. Tease you with new possibilities you had never considered before. And now he’s satisfied and you’re not.

Jungkook chuckles, low and tired. The sound shoots straight to your cunt. “Come over after you shift,” he says, as if you’re not planning to fake a severe case of the flu right now in order to get off early and run to his bed. You only had a little less than two hours of your shift left anyway. Not like they paid you well to begin with. Jungkook shifts, releases one of those saccharine groans as he probably snuggles into his bed, all sweaty and worn out. “Want you to fuck my face, baby.”

You frown, counting to ten to calm yourself down. Another few minutes of listless conversation, and you hang up. Your body feels featherlight, a little woozy as you make your way back out into the floor.

Nothing has changed. Customers pour in and out, your boss scolds you for a display you didn’t do, and life inside the store drags on. No one knows that you’re soaking your panties to hell and back, Jungkook’s soothing moans in your ear. Life goes on.

you shift ends in 20

jungkook♡ sweet jungkook♡ got your seat ready jungkook♡ Attachment: 1 Image

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #jjk♡#jeon jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts jungkook #mine

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joontopia · 3 years

Text

Forget Me Not | KNJ Oneshot

pairing: kim namjoon x female reader

genre: smut, slight angst, dashes of fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot

au: exes to lovers, valentine’s day

rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+

word count: 20.3K

warnings: slight angst, assumed cheating, cursing, alcohol consumption, dry humping, some heavy petting, heated make out sessions, daddy kink, slightly bratty reader, dom namjoon, pet names, dirty name calling, slight degradation, cocksleeve kink, use of sex toys (vibrator), unprotected sex, condom got lost in the mail, cumshot, creampie, oral sex (m & f), blowjob, throat fucking, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, clit slapping, spit play, namjoon got a big ol’ cock, nipple biting, marking, biting, overstimulation, orgasm denial, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, wall sex, some gentle choking

banner made by: @kimtaehyunq

a/n: My day for posting has finally come! This fic is twice as long as I thought it was going to be. Big, big hugs and smooches to Maggie and Tina for beta and editing this beast at the last minute for me. You two are a lifesaver and I love yall so much. And thank you again, Maggie, for recruiting me to be a part of this valentine’s day collab! I had such a great time!

Beta readers: @kimtaehyunq @escapingreality4now

This is a part of the Be My Bangtanvine Collab - go check out the other fantastic writers and their stories!

“So what’s your name, anyway?” The once cute, bleach blonde male asks you as he leans in closer, his breath reeking of the IPA he is nursing. You lean away from him in your seat at the bar, rolling your eyes as you grab your drink. “What does it matter?” you say taking a big sip. “You’re not going to remember it anyways.”

“What makes you say that?” He slurs, leaning even closer to you. His eyes half closed from drunkenness and a lazy smile on his face. You push him away from you gently, a soft huff coming from his mouth as his back hits the bar.

“Because I’ve told it to you four times already?” Your tone doesn’t match the smile you give him as he lets out a laugh. You take another sip from your drink, your eyes roaming around the bar again looking for your best friend, Tina. She invited you out tonight, with the promise of some much needed girl time. Guilt tripped you with the fact that she hasn’t spent much time with you outside of work or your apartment after your breakup six months ago. You were four episodes deep into a new TV show when she came barreling through your door, taking full advantage of the spare key you had given her weeks earlier for ‘emergencies only.’ She dragged you off the couch, going on and on about how “Enough is enough. You need to get out and be around people. Not sitting here moping over some stupid guy.”

Hauling you into your bedroom, she dolls you up in the black, sparkly bodycon dress you bought for your anniversary dinner with your ex but never got to wear. Promised that tonight was just going to be you two girls. No boys allowed. No worries of running into a certain someone because “it’s not like he ever had the time for things like this anyways.” It didn’t take long until she was whisked off to the dance floor by some silver-haired beautiful man with the plushest lips you have ever seen. You willingly let him sweep her away. You didn’t have the heart to say no, not with the absolute lovestruck look in Tina’s eyes.

Unfortunately, it left you alone at a crowded bar top, susceptible to being bothered by drunken bar patrons looking for an easy score. You first didn’t mind when this one came up to you. He seemed charming, up until the point he was asking for your name thrice in five minutes. Your nose crinkles as he leans back in again, placing a hand on your shoulder to balance himself as he almost stumbles forward on to you. “Come on, tell me your name. I promise I’ll remember it this time.”

Rolling your eyes, you finish your drink, readying yourself for the long back and forth once you tell him you’re not interested. You place your empty glass on the bar top and brush his hand off your shoulder. Your eyes widen as you see your drunk intruder start falling forward from his loss of balance, only then realizing you should’ve made sure you had supported his hand on something else. You brace for impact, eyes closing shut while your arms are out in front of you as you wait for him to come crashing down. Hoping you’d be able to push him off of you in time before he takes you crashing to the floor with him. But the body weight never comes, only replaced with a deep, honey rich voice that you haven’t heard in months causing your eyes to snap open. There the owner of the voice stood, his arm out in between you and your drunken company, pushing the latter back towards the bar top and away from you. “N-Namjoon?” you sputter, completely caught off guard to see your ex-boyfriend standing beside you.

“Excuse me, but I think it’s about time you left her alone,” Namjoon says, his eyes narrowing at the drunken gentleman as the sides of his mouth turn up into a tight, polite smile. He feels taller than what you remember, towering over the other bar patron by almost half a foot.

The drunken man looks between you and Namjoon, puffing his chest as he crosses his arm, trying to make himself seem taller than he really is. “Chill, dude. We’re just talking, having a good time. What are you? Her boyfriend or something?”

You shift in your seat just slightly, Namjoon noticing out of the corner of his eye as he clears his throat, moving to place his hand on the back of your chair. “Or something…” he says, his cheeks rosy-ing just a bit as he side-eyes you again, waiting to see if you were going to interject. You stay quiet, looking at him with wide eyes as you’re still trying to process the fact that he’s here in this bar with you. What is he doing here?

He takes your silence as permission to continue, turning his full attention back to the other man. “Thank you for keeping my friend company while I was away. Now if you excuse us, we’re going to try and enjoy the rest of our night.”

The drunken man hardens his gaze at Namjoon for a moment, slightly swaying back and forth and you wonder if he’s about to lose his balance again. He breathes out, rolling his eyes as he scoffs at Namjoon, turning to walk away from the bar. “Whatever man,” he mutters, walking away and disappearing into the crowd.

“Everything okay, Joon?” The bartender asks, having walked up shortly after the drunken man took his leave.

“Yeah, man. All cool. Can you get us another round?” The Bartender nods, turning to start a new round of drinks for the two of you. As soon as he walks away, Namjoon turns to you, his cheeks rosy-ing once again as he lifts one of his hands, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, hey Y/N. Interesting running in to you here.”

“What are you doing, Namjoon?” You feel your face warm up with annoyance. Never once in the year that you were together did he ever come out to a bar with you. Always too busy with work to make it out with you and your friends. But now here he is, in front of you being treated as if he’s come here his whole life.

He chuckles nervously, his feet shuffling just a bit as he clears his throat. “What do you mean?” His seemingly innocent question makes your annoyance and frustration grow even more, and you try hard to hold back the bite in your tone.

“What are you doing? Here, just now. You hate bars.”

“I don’t hate bars. I just never had the time for them.” His voice trails off at the end, the ghost of arguments past flashing before his eyes.

You scoff at him, rolling your eyes as you cock your head to the side. “Oh, what? And you do now? Work finally not keeping you so busy anymore?” The resentment dripping from your tone makes Namjoon squirm just a bit in his spot. You’d feel good about it, knowing how uncomfortable he was feeling right now, if it wasn’t for the little fact that he just saved you from a potentially embarrassing incident. You briefly scold yourself, telling yourself to at least show him some level of gratitude before biting his head off again.

“Sorry, that was rude--” You’re interrupted by the return of the bartender with your drinks, placing them on the bartop as Namjoon turns to grab them. You take the brief break in his attention as a chance to calm and compose yourself. Knowing his sudden appearance didn’t allow you to react the way you wanted to after seeing him again for the first time in months. You let out a sigh, letting your shoulders deflate just slightly, taking you out of your defensive mood. You allow yourself to take a better look at Namjoon, trailing your eyes from the floor up to his face. You can’t help but notice how good he looks. He looks like he just came from a work meeting, wearing dark grey slacks and a whilte long-sleeve button up. The form fitting sleeves rolled halfway up his arms, showing off the toneness of them. “Has he been working out?” you think to yourself. You look back up at his face, his dark brown hair pushed back out of it, giving you a nice view of his jawline as he’s turning back around from grabbing your drinks.

He holds out the drink to you, your eyes now on his hand as it’s holding the glass in front of you. The way his long fingers are wrapping around the glass stirs something inside your groin. Memories from long-heated nights of the two of you together coming forth in your mind. Memories of the very same hand creeping up your body and wrapping firmly around your -- “Y/N?”

Namjoon eyes you curiously, an eyebrow quickly shooting up as he looks at you and you hope he’s not able to easily read your face to know what you’re thinking about. “Jesus, Y/N. Calm yourself,” you think to yourself as you mentally facepalm.

You clear your throat, your cheeks warming as you grab the drink from his hand and take a sip. “Thanks,” you mutter, clearing your throat again as you regain your composure. “And thank you for a minute ago. I didn’t think I was ever going to get rid of that guy.” You both chuckle. Namjoon’s dimples poking out as he smiles, nodding his head as he murmurs a “you’re welcome.” Your eyes flicker to his cheeks, a ghost of a smile on your lips as you take in the sight of his adorable features. You feel a flutter in your stomach, realizing how much you missed just being able to look at him.

“So…” you start, pushing your hair behind your ear. “What are you doing here?” you ask him curiosity sinking back in as the possible reasons start popping up in your mind. Is it work related? Did he quit? Or get fired? Does he actually have time to go out now? Oh God, is he here to meet another girl?

“Actually, I’m kinda here because of work,” he says, taking a drink of his beer.

“Of course he is,” you think, your eyes rolling involuntarily, causing Namjoon to jump quickly into further explanation.

“I’m out with a few people from work,” he spits out quickly, a nervous chuckle slipping past his lips at the end. “A couple of the guys asked if I wanted to go out with them a couple of weeks back and I thought it would be a nice change. That’s actually one of them over there, dancing with your friend.” He nods towards the dance floor and you turn just in time to see the silver haired dreamboat locking lips with your best friend. You turn back towards Namjoon as he continues, “I knew you liked going to places like this. Just wanted to see what I was missing.”

You hum in response, taking a sip from your drink as you look at him. He’s staring right at you, eyes meeting yours as they glint with a deeper meaning. Could it be that he’s been just as miserable these last few months as you? “And how has that been going?” you ask him.

“Turns out what I’ve been missing is you.” You smile wide at his words, cheeks warming up as you look away. He looks down as you both let out a little laugh.

“Well,” you say as you cross your legs in your chair, your foot now grazing the inside of his thigh. “Here I am.”

Namjoon’s eyes flicker down to your foot, his eyes trailing up your leg and growing wide as if he’s finally taking in the form fitting dress that you’re wearing. “Here you are,” he says with a smirk. “You look amazing.”

You’re not sure how it happened exactly. The events leading up to right now, how you agreed to meet Namjoon for brunch the night after seeing him again for the first time. The multiple drinks and shots you took with him more than likely the sole perpetrator.

One minute you’re still at the bar, drinking and laughing with your ex-boyfriend. Catching up on the last few months spent apart. Next thing you know, you’re thrown up against the brick wall in the back alley behind the bar. Namjoon’s one hand on your ass as the other has both your wrists secured above your head. Your own legs wrapped tightly around his waist to help keep you from falling. The rough bricks scratch at your exposed skin, but you hardly notice, your attention stolen by Namjoon’s tongue down your throat. The definite bulge in his pants grinding against your core takes any feeling of discomfort away. You don’t remember how long you two were like that when Namjoon pulls his lips away from tours, allowing the two of you to catch a much needed breath.

After the burning in your lungs starts to subside, you lean in towards him, trying to capture his lips into another kiss, only for him to pull away again. A little pout forming on your face, causing him to chuckle.

“Wait, wait,” he says, his chest still expanding rapidly from his heavy breaths.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as he lets go of your wrist, your hands dropping to his shoulders as he unwraps your legs from around him. Still holding on to you as he helps you balance yourself on the ground.

“Nothing, uhh…” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his head as he looks away. “This, um, just wasn’t exactly the way I had planned for it to go.” He lets off a nervous chuckle as he looks back at you and you smile at him. “You see, I had this whole scenario planned in my head of what I would do if I saw you again.”

“And having me pinned up against a wall dry humping me wasn’t part of it, I’m guessing?” You cock a brow at him, smiling when you notice his cheeks growing scarlet.

“No, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a nice surprise.” You both laugh as a cool breeze sweeps down the alleyway. You rub your arms, your body finally acknowledging the chilly temperature outside.

“I wanted to ask you out for coffee,” he says, his palms moving to rub your arms on instinct, trying to help keep you warm. “Wanted to get a chance to talk to you, ask for you to give me another chance.”

“Okay.”

He blinks at you, looking at you as if he was confused by your short answer before it hits him. “Okay?” he repeats, a smile growing on his face causing his dimples to reappear.

“To coffee,” you clarify. “There’s still a lot we need to talk about before I say yes to a second chance.”

And that’s how you found yourself here, walking into Namjoon’s favorite coffee place. The very one you avoided the last few months because you didn’t want to run into him. As you enter, you look around the cute little shop. Your face lights up with a smile when you see Namjoon already here, sitting in a corner booth with two cups of coffee on the table in front of him. As you approach, he looks over as if he sensed your presence, smiling as he stands up to greet you by giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m happy you’re here. Kinda was a little worried you’d change your mind,” he says, sitting down in the seat across from you.

“It crossed my mind.” Namjoon’s eyes grow wide and you giggle, letting him know it was just a joke. You grab the drink in front of you as Namjoon smiles shyly.

“Two scoops of sugar, a pump of caramel and toffee nut flavoring with creamer on the side, right?” He asks, the question rhetorical, as he pushes a few cups of creamer towards you.

“You remembered,” you whisper, smiling as you stirred in some creamer to your coffee. He smiles, taking a sip of his own Iced Americano. You both sit there for a few minutes, neither one of you talking. The silence being broken by the waitress coming over to take your food order. Namjoon, once again remembering your usual order and you smile wide, saying a thanks as the waitress walks away.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N. I’ve missed this,” he says suddenly, catching you slightly off guard. You knew this was why you were both here, but you didn’t expect him to start the conversation so suddenly. “I really want to get back together.”

You let you a soft sigh, pushing a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know, Joonie.”

“Why not?” he asks softly, eyeing you intently as he gives you his full attention.

“We broke up for a reason, Joon,” you say as you look up to meet his eye. You see the adoration and the deep determination in his gaze. His deep, chestnut eyes pull you in as you get lost in them, almost making you forget the reasons why you broke up. Almost.

You look away, the memory of your break up resurfacing. Your mind starts to wander to that early fall evening. Namjoon showing up to your apartment late from work. Too late for the dinner reservations you had made for your one year anniversary. You were already out of your dress, lying in bed in your pajamas when he came knocking on your front door. You had let him in, not wanting your neighbors to hear the argument that was sure to come. And came it did.

You had said something about being tired of coming second to everything with him. How he spent more time with work and not with you. Always going in early and staying late, never making time for you unless it was for sex. He countered with how important his work was to him, how you said you admire that about him when you first got together. How he was doing this to secure his future, a future that he saw with you. This was his passion, and he didn’t get how you couldn’t understand that. He didn’t get what the big deal was that night, simply forgetting what day it was. Told you that if it was that serious to you, if you really couldn’t put up with his shit anymore, to just break up with him.

So you did. The moment the words fell from your mouth, so did the tears. Namjoon just stood there in the middle of your living room staring at you. Tears still falling harder from your eyes as he turned, snatching his work bag from the floor and walking back out of your apartment, slamming the door behind him. No rebuttal, no attempt to fight for you back. He just left. No communication or to be seen again until last night.

“I know,” he says, his voice bringing you back to the present. ”I had a lot that I needed to work on. I neglected you, put more effort in my job than our relationship and I know it took a toll that night. I took you for granted.”

‘It wasn’t just that… That night was our --” you start softly before he interrupts you.

“Our one year anniversary, I know.” He lets out a huff and he rubs his face with his hands. You look up at him, blinking owlishly. “God, I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I realized it the moment I left and I should’ve turned back around. I should’ve fought harder to keep you.”

“You didn’t fight at all,” you state meekly, your tone just above a whisper. Namjoon looks down at the table softly nodding his head.

“I was an idiot. And too stubborn to know what I had.” You both sit there for a minute, staring at your own coffee drinks, not saying a word. You went over his words, happy to hear him admit the things he faulted in your relationship. A little flower of hope blossoming in your heart that just maybe you two could work things out.

“Why now?” you ask, breaking the silence. “What made you want to try again?”

“You remember the producer position at work that I wanted?” He looks up at you. You nod your head, remembering how he used to talk so passionately about that being his dream job. “Well, one of the producers left, allowing for a position to come available. I got it.”

A huge smile grows on your face as you reach and grab his hand, not even realizing you had done it. “Congratulations, Joonie! That’s so awesome!”

He smiles back at you, covering your hand with his other as he looks down where they are joined. “Thank you,” he says with a smile. “It was a bittersweet moment when I had gotten the news. Of course, I was happy when I got it, but I had no one to celebrate with. And the only person I wanted there was you.”

You feel your heart swell, your smile only growing bigger as you look at him. He gives your hand a squeeze, smiling back at you before continuing, “I realized that if I wanted you back, I was going to have to change. I want to be better for you.”

“It wasn’t just you who needed to change, Joonie.” You give his hands a squeeze back as he looks back up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I could’ve been more understanding. Maybe we can work on it together.”

His eyes light up, growing wide for just a second as he sits up in his chair, leaning forward into the table towards you. “Yeah?” he asks, his tone dripping with hope and enthusiasm.

You giggle, smiling at his reaction. “Yeah. Let’s give it another shot.”

You spent the rest of the brunch date eating your own meals and talking. Outlining the issues you two needed to work on, setting rules and guidelines for trying again. The conversation carries over and continuing on your walk home Namjoon joins you on. Namjoon promises to make more time for you, you promise to be patient and a little more understanding. You also set the rule of no sex, at least until you both are confident that you two can make this work. The moment you state the rule, Namjoon lets out a whine, causing a giggle to escape your lips from his cute reaction.

“No sex?!” he exclaims, as you enter the door to your apartment complex causing an older couple to turn and give you two a scolding glare. “Not even fooling around?”

“No sex,” you say after shooshing him, giggling again as the older couple walk into their apartment. “Kissing is fine, but no sex. Not even fooling around.”

“But if I recall, sex was never part of our problems.” Namjoon wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning up against the wall as you make it to your front door.

“Namjoon!” You slap his arm, playfully glaring at him and scolding him as you dig for your keys out of your purse.

“I’m just kidding! Kind off...:” he says, winking at you as you unlock your door. “Fine, no sex. I can do that. It’s worth it to prove to you that I’ve changed.” You flick on the lights to your apartment, placing your purse on the side table by the door as you turn to look back at Namjoon. He’s now standing in your doorway, leaning up on the door frame as he looks down at you, smiling. “So I guess I’ll call you later then.”

You give him a nod, once again finding yourself mesmerized by his presence and unable to speak. You never thought you’d be here with him again, having him drop you off at your doorstep after a date. He leans in towards you, his hand rising to cup your face as his lips meet yours for a soft kiss. Your body is electrified with the feel of his lips on yours and you feel yourself melt into his touch. He deepens the kiss just briefly before pulling away. You fall forward slightly, your lips still puckered as the chase after his, wanting more. Namjoon smiles, a knowing look in his eye as he walks backward away from you. “I’ll see you later, baby.” He doesn’t even wait for your response as he turns around, walking back down the hall and out into the street.

“Tease…” you mutter as you close the door behind you. Your fingers brushing your lips slightly as you smile, still feeling the softness of his lips on yours.

“You agreed to WHAT now?” Tina shouts as she follows you into the breakroom at work. Eyes wide as she watches you pour yourself a cup of coffee before the Monday morning staff meeting, having just finished going over your weekend events after she had left you alone at the bar. “Are you out of your mind? Why would you agree to a second chance with him?” she asks, her loud tone causing passing coworkers to peak into the break room as they pass by.

“Can you chill out?” You say to her, walking past her and back out to the hallway. She follows you, walking side by side as you both make your way to the conference room. “He’s changed, Tina. He’s recognized the areas that he needs to work on and has promised to do so, together. Why shouldn’t I give him another chance?”

You enter the conference room, finding two empty seats at the large oval table adjacent to each other and you both sit down. One by one, your fellow co-workers file in, filling up the table. “Fine,” Tina huffs, rolling her eyes as she leans back into her seat. “But I’m watching him. I won’t say I told you so, but I will be the first one to kick his ass if he breaks your heart again.”

You give her a smile, taking a sip of your coffee as you wait for the meeting to get started, jumping just a bit when Tina sits up quickly and grabs your arm, smiling when she turns to you. “Oh! Remind me to fill you in on my weekend with Jimin. Over lunch. My treat.”

You snicker at her, wiping the little droplets of your coffee that fell on the table. “You owe me lunch for abandoning me on our girls night anyways. But not today. Namjoon is taking me to a cute little sushi spot near his office.”

“Wow, look at Mr. Work-a-holic finally taking a break from busy, busy schedule,” she mutters under her breath, followed up by a soft “Ow” from the light kick you give her under the table.

“He’s trying, Tina,” you whisper to her as your boss walks in, seating himself at the head of the table and kicks off the meeting.

“Right, okay, sorry. I’ll give him another chance too.”

Lunch time sneaks up on you, too busy being nose deep into an article for the magazine you work for, putting in the finishing touches before sending it to your editors to get ready for the February Issue. Your phone buzzing on your desk alerts you to the time of day. You check it to find a text from Namjoon, announcing his arrival at the front of your office building. 12:30 PM on the dot. You lock your work laptop, waving bye to Tina as you place your phone into your purse and head to the elevator bay. Once down in the lobby you quickly walk outside, spotting Namjoon leaning up against a taxi waiting for you. You wrap your arms around his neck, greeting him with a kiss before he opens the car door for you, following you into the back of the cab.

The little sushi place he takes you to is delicious. Being your first time there, Namjoon orders a whole spread. Each roll consists of something you like, from tempura shrimp to avocado in the middle. Some rolls topped with eel. You eat your fill, feeling satisfyingly full once the two of you are walking out of the little restaurant.

“What time do you need to be back?” Namjoon asks you, taking your hand into his as you walk down the street.

“Maybe not for another hour? I’m already done with my article, so I’m in no rush to need to get back.” You walk alongside him with a smile on your face, the feel of his hand in yours bringing you a comfort you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Would you want to stop by the studio with me then? I got something I want to show you.” You smile at him, nodding your head as he smiles back, quickening his steps as he pulls you toward his office building.

Arriving at Namjoon’s work, you were excited to finally step into the world that had preoccupied so much of his time when you were together. You had been here multiple times in the year you were with him, coming here to drop off food for your overworking boyfriend. Never making it past the lobby desk until now. You follow him through the lobby, past the front desk and towards the elevator. You turn towards the long hallway you remember he would appear from during your prior visits when he instead guides you to the elevators, hopping on to an open cab and pressing the button for the 5th floor.

You pull your phone out of your purse, sending Tina a quick text saying that you might be late coming back to the office. After a few exchanges of where you were, she asks you to say hi to Jimin for her before you slip your phone back into your purse and turn towards Namjoon. “Since when did you move off the first floor?” You ask as the elevator continues to move upwards.

He smiles at you, a glint of excitement in his eye as the cab stops, the doors opening to the new floor. He leads you out of the elevator, his hand pushing gently on the small of your back. “That’s what I want to show you. Remember that promotion? It comes with some new perks.” He continues to lead you down the hallway and you look around, taking in the new scenery as Namjoon stops you in front of a closed door.

“Y/N!” You hear your name being called from the other end of the hall. You turn to look at the newcomer, a dark haired man jogging down the hall with his arms open towards you and Namjoon. His wide, heart shaped smile bringing an equally wide one to your face.

“Hobi!” You giggle as he wraps you in a big bear hug, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

“It’s good to see you again,” you say as he steadies you back on the ground.

“Likewise! It's nice to see you and Joon together again. He’s been a real stick in the mud while you guys were apart.”

You let out another giggle as Namjoon glares at his co-worker, opening the door and guiding you in. “Thank you for that, Hoseok,” he mutters, following the two of you into the room.

You take a look around the room, various recording equipment litters the room. There’s a lone couch against the wall opposite a large desk fitted with mixing equipment and a computer. You watch as Hobi plops down on it, pulling out his phone as you continue to observe the room. A guy around your age with mint colored hair sits in front of the computer and mixing equipment, headphones on as he’s bopping his head up and down to whatever is playing. You see the ‘Recording in progress’ sign lit up and realize he’s in the middle of recording someone. Namjoon closes the door behind him, walking over to pat the mint haired man on the back. The mint haired man looks up, his features growing into a gummy smile as he looks at Namjoon, taking his headphones off his head and pressing a button on the switchboard in front of him.

“Ah, Joon. Just in time. Jimin’s finishing up one of his tracks for his debut,” the mint haired man says, standing to give Namjoon a quick hug before pressing another button on the switchboard and speaking into a mic, “Jimin, come on out.”

“Jimin’s in there?” You ask without thinking. Realizing you have yet to officially meet the man that swept your best friend away on your girl’s night out. The mint haired man and Namjoon look over at you and you realize you interrupted their conversation, causing your cheeks to flush slightly.

“Yeah, he is,” the mint haired man says to you. “Big fan?”

Hobi snorts from the couch, “Watch out, Joon. Might have some competition.”

You smile while you shake your head. “No, um, he’s kind of dating my best friend.” You watch as his eyebrows shoot up, nodding his head as Namjoon places his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Let me not be rude,” Namjoon says as he gestures between you two. “Yoongi, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Yoongi. My coworker and fellow producer.”

Yoongi reaches out to shake your hand, giving you another gummy smile as he addresses you. “Nice to meet you, so you’re the girl Namjoon has been lovesick about. Heard all about you. Nice to finally put a face to a name.” He gives Namjoon a nudge with his shoulder, the both of you looking at each other with matching cheeks as a door on the other side of the room opens up. A familiar silver haired man walking out, his unforgettably plush lips spread wide into a smile.

“Sup guys. Ah, Y/N. Good to finally meet you,” he says, walking over to you and giving you a hug. It catches you by surprise for a minute before you return it. Jimin breaks away from you at the sound of Namjoon clearing his throat, giving you a wink as he moves to sit by Hoseok on the couch.

“Anyways,” Namjoon says as he walks over to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “I just wanted to introduce you guys before I showed her my office.”

“You have an office now --”

“Oh, Joojoo, I thought I heard you in here.” You were cut off by a tall, petite girl who just entered the room. The pencil skirt and blouse she was wearing a little too short and form fitting to be considered professional. You look at her, noticing how pretty she was and the way she was looking at Namjoon, all wide eyed and dreamy. You instantly become annoyed, too focused on the awful nickname she just used to notice the brief look of distaste on Namjoon’s face at the sound of it. You instinctively lean more into Namjoon, crossing your arms as the new girl continues to talk, barely aware of your presence. “Joojoo, I need help getting something down from the supply closet. Can you help me?” She coos while batting her eyelashes. Her eyes move from his face to the arm around your shoulder, clicking her tongue against her teeth as she looks you up and down. “Whose this?”

“Oh, Areum. This is Joon’s girl, Y/N. Y/N, this is our floor assistant, Areum,” Hobi jumps in, quick to the introductions with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

Areum looks at you, eyebrow raised in confusion. “Y/N. Like, your ex-girlfriend, Y/N?”

“We’re working things out,” you snap, wrapping one of your arms around Namjoon’s waist as he looks down at you, raising an eyebrow of his own. A ghost of a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips.

“Whatever,” the girl mutters before turning to Namjoon again, an annoyingly bright smile adorning her face. “Joojoo, could you help me?”

“I got it!” Yoongi shouts, already moving past the group of you and out the door. Areum lets out a soft “Oh” as she turns to follow, briefly looking back at you and Namjoon before exiting the room.

Your lips twitch up in a smirk as you turn to look up at Namjoon. “So, what’s this office you were talking about?”

“Yeah, Joon. Why don’t you show Y/N your office,” Hobi teases as he gets up from the couch, following after Yoongi and the office assistant. Namjoon sputters and you let out a giggle, grabbing his hand and walking out of the recording room.

Namjoon regains his composure, leading you back down the hallway, Jimin following closely behind, taking the chance to strike up conversation. “So what do you guys say to a double date this weekend? Give us a chance to get to know each other and have some fun. Tina talks very highly about you, Y/N.”

“That sounds great. What do you think, Joonie?” You ask just as Namjoon stops in front of another door, digging a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocking it.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” he says, flicking on the lights to his office. The three of you barely enter into the little space when Hoseok shows up at the door, looking straight at Namjoon.

“Hey Joon, looks like we need your help after all. Yoongi severely underestimated how high up this box was.” Hobi lets out a laugh as he walks back down the hallway. Namjoon turns to you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead as he tells you he’ll be right back before slipping out the door way.

You let out a little huff as soon as he’s out of sight. “Has she ever heard of a step ladder,” you mutter under your breath as you take a look around Namjoons office, his ever growing Kaws figurine collection decorating the shelves on his walls.

You hear Jimin snicker and you jump just a bit as you had forgotten he was there. “We have a step ladder, actually. Areum, tends to misplace it a lot,” he says, air quoting around the words misplace it as he rolls his eyes. “She has the biggest crush on Namjoon. Tends to always need something from the top shelves just to have an excuse to talk to him.”

Your face contorts into a scowl, causing Jimin to laugh and throw his hands up in defense. “Don’t worry. Namjoon barely even notices. He’s always been wrapped up in his work. Or talking about you. Yoongi, however… Well, he has it bad.”

You nod a little, taking comfort in Jimin’s reassurance. He gives you a small wave bye as he leaves you alone in Namjoon’s office. You sit down in the empty desk chair, noticing a picture frame by his laptop. You pick it up, recognizing the picture to be one of your favorites of you and Namjoon. A cute selfie you took in the comfort of his apartment a few months into you two dating. You place it back on the desk, humming gently in content as you push the brief incident with the office assistant to the back of your mind. Reminding yourself that you promised to be understanding and you try not to dwell on if there was anything there that you would need to worry about.

Your first week back with Namjoon was nothing short of amazing. You were amazed and surprised by how attentive he is to you, fully prepared to expect him to still be busy with work, especially with a recent promotion. But, alas, he is keeping true to his promise so far. The two of you spent more time together in the past week than you did in the last few months you were together. The both of you have been making great progress with the things you both promised to work on. Holding true to the rules and guidelines, you had set out, the no sex rule included.

You’d be lying if you said it hasn’t been hard to not break that rule. Namjoon being right when he said that sex was never a problem between the two of you. It didn’t help that the both of you gained pure enjoyment out of teasing the hell out of each other. Between the gentle brushes of his hand across your ass or the strategic placement of your hand on his thigh when you’re sitting next to him, it is easy to get one another flustered. It is equally just as hard to keep each other’s hormones at bay.

No other time have you two come close to breaking that rule than you have tonight. Laid out on your back on your living room couch, Namjoon on top of you. The both of you in the middle of a heated makeout session. His hand up your shirt while yours is on his ass, pushing him closer into you as he grinds his clothed bulge into your core. You know you should stop. No fooling around being part of the rules you both had set, but it all just feels too damn good to stop. Your living room is filled with the soft sounds of your shared moans, the movie Namjoon brought over for your night in playing softly but forgotten in the background. You both had opted for a night in instead of going out to dinner. Your planned double date on Saturday and the fact that you had to work late helping your fellow writers finish their articles playing a big part in the decision making. Namjoon had picked up takeout and a movie for the two of you, waiting at your apartment for you to get home to spend as much time as possible with you tonight before he would have to leave to go to sleep.

What started out as an innocent foot rub after your dinner has speedily turned into a tickle fight. That very tickle fight quickly escalated to the situation you find yourself in now; Namjoon’s tongue wrestling with yours as he cups your breast with his hand, finding your nipple hidden by your bra and giving it a quick pinch. You let out a muffled moan, one he quickly swallows with his lips still on yours. You slide your other hand down, reaching in between you two to grab a hold of the button on his jeans. You almost have it undone when Namjoon suddenly pulls away from you, grabbing your wrist as he breathlessly asks you to hold on. He pulls his hand from out under your shirt and lets go of your wrist as he sits back on the couch, running his hand through his disheveled hair to try and put some of it back in place.

“We should probably chill out a bit. Don’t want to get too ahead of ourselves,” he says, scooting just a bit away from you to give you room to sit up on your side of the couch. You stay as you are, looking at him with a pout on your lips as he chuckles at you. “Besides, I probably should head out soon. Need to run into the office tomorrow before our date.”

He stands from the couch, holding his hand out to help you up and you take it, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stand up in front of him. “Why don’t you just spend the night? Leave for work from here in the morning?” you ask in between kisses. He chuckles at you again, grabbing your hands from around his neck and walking you to the door.

“And break the rules you clearly set out for us? I would never,” he teases you, laughing at you as you let out a whine. “I’ll see you tomorrow baby. I’ll let you know when I get home,” he reassures you as he slips his shoes on and opens your front door. He turns back to you, slinking an arm around your waist to catch your lips in a deep kiss as he pulls you towards him. He releases your lips, leaving you breathless once again as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “And we’ll continue this later.” He smiles at you, giving you a wink and another quick kiss before releasing you completely and closing the door behind him.

You let out a little huff. “Tease…” you mutter as you smile, shaking your head as you lock up the door before turning back towards your living room, getting ready to clean up and go to bed.

The double date with Jimin and Tina went better than you expected. The whole mini argument you had with Tina in her apartment as the two of you got ready proving to be inane. Her plans of giving Namjoon the third degree to check to see if he’s really changed never came to fruition, much to your relief. The moment the two boys arrived at her doorstep to pick the both of you up, all thoughts of interrogation were forgotten, her attention solely on Jimin and Jimin alone.

The steakhouse you attend for dinner is delicious. The drinks you all share help keep the conversation light and entertaining. You are happy with the way work has stayed away as a topic for the evening. The only exception was the mention of Hoseok’s mixtape release party that is taking place the following Wednesday. When leaving the restaurant, talks about needing to do this again came up. You mention a new Italian restaurant that just opened up down the street that you all should try next, if you guys were ever lucky enough to get a hard to book reservation.

Namjoon holds your hand the entire cab ride back to your apartment. Not much conversation taking place due to the numerous glasses of wine at dinner making you feel warm and sleepy while leaning up against him. You nearly doze off before you make it to your apartment, Namjoon nudging your shoulder slightly to let you know of your arrival. He’s still holding your hand as he walks you to your door, making sure you were safely inside before letting go. He stands in your doorway, smiling at you as you brace yourself against the wall to balance as you take off your heels.

“What are you smiling about?” You tease him, crossing your arms as you walk back towards him after removing your footwear.

“I’m just happy to be doing this with you again. Walking you home, making sure you get here safe.” You can’t help the smile that graces your face from his confession, leaning up on to your tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his lips.

“So,” he starts, still smiling at you as he hovers over you in your door frame. “Hobi’s release party is this Wednesday.”

“So I heard,” you cooed, your heart warming at the flash of his dimples from his smiling growing wider from your teasing.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go with me,” he asks you, pausing momentarily before continuing, “As my date.”

You smile wider, leaning up to give him another kiss. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The next few days flew by in a breeze. You weren’t able to see much of Namjoon other than lunch breaks or a quick dinner date as he was helping Hobi and the company prepare for the release party. You and Tina spent your free evenings shopping for the perfect dresses. Finding two cute matching bodycons with keyhole cut outs and heels to match. Wednesday evening comes before you know it. Namjoon had ordered a car to pick you and Tina up, him needing to be at the venue early to help get everything set up. Not wanting you to feel rushed, he arranges for your transportation to drop you off right at the venue doors, allowing you and Tina to enjoy a full red carpet experience for the release party.

The party venue is located at one of the nicest hotels in town, taking place in one of the ballrooms fitted with a DJ booth, a mini dance floor, and a well stocked open bar. Namjoon is there to greet you at the door, catching the eye of every woman (and man) walking by him with the way he’s fitted in his well-tailored suit. His hair is pushed back, styled out of his face. You can’t help the smile that grows on your face as you look him up and down, walking towards him. Knowing that this beautiful man is all yours. The moment he notices you walking towards the ballroom, his smile matches yours, if not, brighter. His mindset also matches yours as he shamelessly looks you up and down as you grow closer.

“Hey Handsome,” you say to him, throwing your arm around his neck as you give him a kiss.

“Good evening, baby. You’re looking exceptionally beautiful tonight.” He kisses you back, slipping his hand around your waist.

“How nice of you to say, Joonie. I didn’t think you noticed,” Tina teases from beside you. Namjoon rolls his eyes, giving you another kiss before taking your hand in his.

“You look exceptionally beautiful as well, Tina,” he says, gesturing his hand towards the inside of the ballroom. Tina gives him a thank you before winking at you and walking forwards into the ballroom, now on a mission to find Jimin. You giggle, following behind her and Namjoon as he leads you toward the bar.

After grabbing a round of drinks, Namjoon walks you and Tina over to your reserved table for the evening. Jimin is already sitting down, snacking on a small plate full of the various finger foods being served around the event. You barely sit down yourself when the petite office assistant, Areum, pops up out of nowhere, instantly clinging herself onto Namjoon’s arm. The dress she’s wearing contains too many cut outs and too much sheer covering to your liking, the lack of actual fabric barely classifying it as a dress instead of lingerie. Her heels, too tall to be considered comfortable to walk in, let alone stand in, you know we’re chosen to accentuate her barely covered (and annoyingly perky) ass. She doesn’t pay you or anyone other table occupant any mind, her focus only on Namjoon, much to your annoyance. Batting her eyelashes, she addresses Namjoon, her tone too high pitched to be tolerable, making the use of her god awful nickname for Namjoon sound even worse. “Joojoo, the DJ is having issues with connecting his equipment. Can you help us?”

He sighs, giving her a polite smile as he responds, “Sure.” She let’s go of his arm and you swear she gives you a smirk before turning and running off. You glare at her retreating backside. An involuntary scoff escaping past your lips. Namjoon hears it, turning to you with a questioning brow raised in your direction. A smirk, once again, dancing on the corner of his lips.

“You okay, baby?” He asks, trying to hide the smile threatening to break out on his face, always finding it cute when you show little signs of jealousy.

“Nothing, she’s just very… touchy.” You take a sip of your champagne, trying to wash away the bitterness in your mouth. Namjoon chuckles at you as he leans down to hover over you, one hand braced on the table and the other on the back of your chair to steady himself.

“She’s just friendly, baby,” he says, leaning in closer to rub his nose on the tip of yours.

“Yeah, to you,” you mumble, Namjoon’s shit-eating grin finally breaking loose on his face as he laughs.

“You’re cute,” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You got nothing to worry about, baby. I only have eyes for you.” He gives you a long, soft kiss on your lips before standing back up. Telling you he’ll be right back, he disappears into the growing crowd toward what you assume is the direction of the DJ booth.

Feeling eyes on you, you look to your left to see Tina observing you, a mischievous smirk on her lips as she meets your gaze. You let out a sigh, jumping to a defensive tone as you try and predict what she’s thinking. “It’s a work party, Tina. It’s expected that he’s going to have to do some work.”

She shakes her head slowly at you as she leans forward, placing her elbow on the table and propping her hand under her chin. “Oh no, I’m wondering when you’re going to put that in its place.” Her reference is vague, but you know exactly what, or rather who, she’s talking about.

“I’m not. I don’t need to. Joonie says there’s nothing to worry about so there’s nothing to worry about,” you state matter-of-factly. Hoping your tone sounds convincing enough to end her “hoe-be-gone” plotting before it starts. You just don’t know who you were trying to convince more: Tina or You.

“If you say so,” Tina sing-songs, leaning back into her seat and into Jimin. Jimin gives her a quick peck on her temple and smiles at her.

“You little instigator,” you hear Jimin whisper to her before catching her lips in a real kiss. You roll your eyes slightly, smiling softly as you scan the now crowded ballroom, trying to spot Namjoon amongst the sea of people.

You contemplate for a minute on whether you should actually say something to Areum. You know you’ll be able to control yourself and your tone. Know you’ll be able to conduct yourself as polite, but firm. She just seems like the type to you that would cause a scene when she doesn’t get her way and you don’t want to be involved in anything that might ruin Hobi’s special night. Besides, you promised to be more understanding and trusting Namjoon on this falls under that umbrella. So you take another sip of your drink, swallowing down the sweet tasting liquid, hoping the bitter taste of your growing anxiety goes down with it.

The rest of the night followed the common theme of Namjoon being swept away by various staff members seeking his help. It never failed that once he found his way back to you, someone else was there a few minutes later to take him again. He apologizes to you every time, his kisses growing harder and deeper with each departure. You reassure him each time that it is fine, and really it is. You are enjoying yourself, spending the majority of the night with Jimin, Tina, and various alcoholic drinks. Near the end of the night, Namjoon was finally able to spend a little more time with you. Grabbing you from your reserved table and walking you over to meet his boss and to say bye to Hoseok before you leave.

As you approach the two gentlemen, Hobi’s eyes light up the moment he sees you.

The second you reach him, he’s wrapping his arms around you in a big hug, placing a quick peck on your cheek. His heart shaped smile on full display as he addresses you, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath as he talks. “Y/N! Thank you for coming tonight. What would I do without my favorite fan?” he slurs, his rosy cheeks pushing into his eyes as he continues to smile at you.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Hobi,” you coo, giggling as you back out of his hug. As you stand back in your place next to Namjoon, you turn to the other man, Hobi and Namjoon’s boss, and introduce yourself.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” he says. “Sorry, I’ve been pulling your boyfriend away from you most of the night.”

“He’s no--” you start before quickly redirecting your response. You feel Namjoon’s shoulders deflate just slightly beside you and you feel a twinge of guilt. He isn’t your boyfriend. Not yet, at least. But isn’t that exactly what you two are working back towards? “It’s okay,” you start again. “He’s been a hot commodity tonight and a hard worker. I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

Namjoon looks at you, a quick ‘blink-and-you'll-miss-it’ flash of surprise colors his features before the corners of his lips turn upwards into a smile.

“A hard worker he most certainly is. I’m going to have to also apologize in advance for the next week. We’re in the finishing stages of our next trainee’s debut and going to need all hands on deck for it.” The boss gives you a big smile, probably thinking it would lessen the blow of his news.

“Yeah, Jimin’s debut is next!” Hobi chimes in, his voice carrying a little too loud due to his intoxicated state.

“That’s right,” their boss confirms. “I promise to try and have him free by Valentine’s day.” The boss lets out a hearty laugh, slapping Namjoon on the shoulder before walking away. Excusing himself to thank the other guest for coming to the event.

“Valentine’s day…” you hear Namjoon mutter softly. You turn to look up at him, noticing his wide-eyed look as he stares into space. You grab his arm, looping your hand around it and lightly squeezing, bringing him back out of his head. His eyes focusing on you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’ve been busy and I forgot it was coming up, too. We got a week, we’ll figure something out,” you try to reassure him, forming a soft smile on his face to try and show that it was really okay.

“Yeah,” Namjoon responds, his tone apprehensive as he rubs the back of his neck. Taking in his demeanor, the little seed of worry from earlier starts to blossom slowly in your mind. You open your mouth to say something, ask him if he’s okay when the call of your name breaks interrupts you. Looking behind you, you see Tina approaching you and Namjoon.

“Hey, you ready to go? Jimin had our car pulled around up front for us,” she asks, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

“Yeah, sure,” you say slowly, turning your head to look back at Namjoon. The unspoken question on whether you guys need to talk lingering between you. It goes unanswered and any signs of apprehension or anxiety are gone from his face. His prize-winning, charming smile is the only thing you see.

“Go ahead. I have to stay and help clean up anyways. I’ll call you later, yeah?” He gives you a quick kiss, waving bye to Tina as he walks away, disappearing into the thinning crowd.

His departure doesn’t sit right with you. Something about his behavior seems off and it only adds to your growing anxiety, much to your annoyance. You try to shake it off, following Tina out of the ballroom and into the lobby. Stopping abruptly, you realize you’ve forgotten something, calling out to Tina as you turn back towards the ballroom. “Hey, I forgot my phone and purse on the table. I’ll meet you in the car.”

Running back in to grab your purse, you notice Namjoon standing over by the bar talking to an older gentleman. You take a step towards him, planning to ask him if everything was okay before heading back to the car, only to stop once the older man steps to the side out of the way of a server. Revealing the annoying little office assistant clinging to Namjoon’s arm. You freeze, watching as Namjoon shakes the older gentleman’s hand before the same man places a kiss on top of the little leech’s head and takes his departure from the group. Namjoon, smiles down at Areum, his dimples adorning his cheeks and you immediately feel sick. You turn around, walking swiftly out of the hotel before they’re able to see you, reaching the car and hopping quickly into the seat next to Tina. She glances over at you curiously before looking back at her phone. “Everything okay?” she asks you as she begins typing away, probably sending a text to Jimin.

“Yeah,” you reply. “Just… I thought it was about to rain.” You give her a forced chuckle, hoping she doesn’t sense the lie in your tone. She hums in response. The car starts to pull off into traffic. You turn, looking back at the hotel as it fades into the distance. Hoping fiercely that what you think you saw and what was actually going on is just a big misunderstanding.

You barely hear from Namjoon the rest of the week. The weekend being no different. The “all hands on deck” call to finish up Jimin’s mixtape for his debut is the only explanation you receive from Namjoon to excuse his absence. Majority of your communication is exchanged over text messages, but even those were slowly growing few and far in between. Your daily lunch dates are replaced with specially picked Uber eats orders sent to your office. The sentiment is there but you couldn’t help but feel like he is avoiding you. The scene of Areum clinging to Namjoon’s arm replaying over and over in your mind. “Who was that man?” and “Why was Namjoon smiling at her after meeting him?” were the main questions plaguing your mind. The constant thought of maybe you DO have something to worry about causes a big negative shift in your mood that you’re unable to hide the longer you go without talking to Namjoon.

Tina notices the change in your attitude at work on Monday. Not-so subtly mentioning how your negative energy was killing her vibe. You grumble an apology and she spends most of the day trying to help bring you out of your sour mood.

“Maybe he really has been busy. His boss did say he was going to be taking up a lot of his time this week.” You let out a huff, knowing what she was saying was more than likely true, but it still didn’t make you feel any better. Noticing no change in your mood, she continues. “If it helps to know, I haven’t been able to see or talk to Jimin much, either. We can only hope that they’re making good progress and they’ll be done soon. That way we can get our men back,” she chirps, her voice going up at the end to try and drive the point of positivity with her words.

You feel bad, but the news of her not hearing from Jimin just as much does make you feel better. At least you knew you weren’t the only one and made the idea that they’re both just really, really busy easier to accept as the truth. You look over at her and give her a small smile, “Thank you. For trying to help me feel better. It’s just… I can’t help but feel like this is all too familiar territory.” Among other things. You follow up in your head, not wanting to voice it out loud and carry on that conversation here at work.

“I thought you said you were going to try and be more understanding,” Tina states, her comment catching you by surprise.

“Wait, what?” you stammer, blinking owlishly at her as she rolls her eyes at you. She sits up straighter in her seat as if she was preparing to give you a presentation.

“You were right, Y/N. Namjoon’s changed. He’s trying. Even I’ve been able to see that,” she says to you, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “You promised that you would be more patient and understanding. Now’s the time to show that you’re trying too.”

You let out a sigh. You knew she was right and didn’t really want to admit it. You did promise to be more understanding and you definitely weren’t doing that right now. That realization does nothing to fix your mood. Only changing the reason why it was still so sour.

Tina notices the change, knowing you swapped to beating yourself up. A smile breaks out on her face as an idea blooms in her mind, reaching over and grabbing your hand in excitement as she details it to you.

“Let’s have a Galentine’s Day this weekend. The boys will probably still be busy, and if they finish up early and are able to spend time with us again, we can cancel it. Easy peasy.” She looks at you, her eyes begging you to say yes as her excitement courses through her. As if her hold on your hand was a conduit, you feel her excitement transfer to you. The infectious happiness in her smile breaking through your negative demeanor and causing a smile to form on your face. You couldn’t find it in you to turn down her offer. Her squeal of excitement rings throughout the office the moment you tell her yes.

The thought of not having to spend Valentine’s Day alone does perk you up a little. The background chatter of Tina planning out your Galentine’s day helping you get through the rest of the work day. Come clock out time, you head out of the office and make your way towards the train for home. You feel your phone buzz, alerting you of a new text message. Checking your notifications, you see that it’s from Namjoon. His name and the context of the tweet bring a smile to your face. His short text of “Miss you” with the kissy face emoji gives you a small burst of motivation to keep the promise that you had made a few weeks earlier. “Patience and understanding. You got nothing to worry about,” you tell yourself, sending back a matching message to Namjoon before slipping your phone back into your pocket.

The rest of the week drags. The still brief only-over-text conversations with Namjoon and Tina’s absence from the office due to a sinus infection being two things that have contributed to the week feeling like it’s taking forever and a day to move along.

Friday morning comes and you already feel an instant boost of happiness when you see Tina at her desk as you walk into the office. You skip to your desk, placing your computer bag down and taking out your laptop as you strike up a conversation with your best friend.

“Good morning! And welcome back! So I was thinking… There’s this cute little candy shop over on Cherry Lane that we should order some sweets from for our Galentine’s day.” After not hearing a response, you look up from your desk. Tina’s brow furrowing in confusion as she looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t Namjoon tell you?” she asks, her question making the anxiety you’ve been pushing down all week start to instantly crawl back up your throat.

“Tell me what?” you respond slowly, pulling your phone out to see if you might have missed any phone calls or text messages from Namjoon. Nothing.

“Jimin said they finished everything up on Wednesday. The mixtape is done.” You feel the color drain from your face. Tina’s eyes grow wide as she notices and quickly adds on to her news. “But maybe he meant HE was finished with everything. Joon and Yoongi probably still have things to finish up on the production end.”

You nod your head meekly. Forcing yourself to breathe in and out as you try not to jump to conclusions and hope that her assumption is right. “Yeah, maybe.” Your voice comes out squeakier than you like. A brief flash of pity shows in Tina’s eyes as she gives you a soft smile. Clearing your throat, you straighten up in your chair, plastering a fake smile on your face as you start on your work. “No, you’re right. He’s probably just finishing up the rest of his part. I’ll probably hear from him later today.”

Tina nods her head slowly, turning back to her computer as she gets back to work. You struggle to maintain your smile throughout the rest of the day, doing your best to not to show a break in your mask every time Tina snuck a quick glance your way.

The end of the workday finally arrives and still no word from Namjoon. You skip out of the office the first chance you get, waiting for Tina to have walked away from her desk so you could sneak out without her noticing. You knew she would ask about Namjoon and it wasn’t a conversation you were really wanting to have right now. Walking towards the subway, you decide to stop at the Chinese restaurant along the way to pick up some takeout, not really in the mood to try and fix something at home. After placing your to-go order, you take a seat in the lobby, scrolling through your phone when you hear someone call your name. Looking up from your phone, you’re surprised to see Yoongi standing in front of you, having just exited the bathroom on the other side of the lobby. “I thought that was you. Picking up some food for you and Joon?”

“Ah, no. Just me.” You smile back. “Are you heading back to the office? This was a long way for a dinner break. This mixtape must be working you two into the ground.”

Yoongi shakes his head, the slightest hint of confusion painting his features. “Actually, I live around here. Just grabbing a bite to eat with some friends. We actually finished up on Wednesday. Didn’t Namjoon tell you?”

Your eyes go wide for a second as you feel your heart drop straight to your stomach. You force a closed lip smile on your face, trying to fight back the anger and frustration rising in you. “Yeah, right. Sorry, must have slipped my mind.”

Yoongi goes to say something else, only to be cut off by the restaurant host calling out your name, announcing that your to-go order was ready. You jump up from your seat quickly, grabbing your food from the host and turn to rush out the door. “It was good to see you, Yoongi. Have a great night!” You run out the door before he can respond. Once again trying to avoid an uncomfortable conversation revolving around Namjoon.

The moment you make it around the block, you stop right above the subway entrance. Grabbing your phone out of your purse, you quickly dial Namjoon’s number, taking deep breaths in and out of your noise to try and calm the boiling anger inside of you. The phone rings twice before the call is picked up. You’re ready to start your onslaught of the many questions that you have the moment he speaks, but the voice you hear at the other end knocks the breath straight out of your lungs. The perky, high pitched voice unmistakably belonging to the one person you would have never thought to be answering Namjoon’s phone. Areum. “Hello, Joojoo’s phone.” Her sickening sweet tone makes your stomach churn and you take in another deep breath to keep yourself from vomiting.

“Where’s Namjoon?” You applaud yourself for how level you keep your tone, not wanting to let her know that the very fact that she answered his phone bothers you.

“He’s busy. Can I take a message?” God, you really don’t like her.

“Just let him know that his girlfriend called,” you say, emphasizing around the word girlfriend.

“Ex-girlfriend. But I’ll let him know. Bye bye now.” She hangs up before you could say anything else. The abrupt ending and her emphasis on the word Ex not helping your growing irritation. You toss your phone back into your bag and continue on your way home.

You don’t look at your phone the whole subway ride home. Not daring to take it out of your bag until after you make it home and finish eating your Chinese. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you finally retrieve your phone from your bag, noticing the one missed call and the three text messages from Namjoon.

Namjoon: Hey, Areum said you called. Everything okay? Namjoon: Y/N? Baby, you okay? *Missed call from Namjoon* Namjoon: Call me back when you get a chance.

You take a deep breath before typing out your response, repeating “patience and understanding” like a mantra in your head. You tell yourself to give him the benefit of the doubt. Give him a chance to explain. He hasn’t given you any reason to doubt him. At least not until now.

You: Hey, sorry. Was eating dinner. Namjoon: Hey, it’s cool. Everything okay? You: Yeah, I didn’t mean to worry you. Just hadn’t talked to you today. I miss you. Namjoon: I miss you too baby.

You pause for a moment. Contemplating how you want to continue the conversation. You wanted to call, not leave the interpretation of your tone through your text message to be misconstrued. But you feel like he wouldn’t give you a full explanation if he had anyone around him.

You: Why did Areum answer your phone? Namjoon: She did? I don’t know. I had left it on the desk when I ran to the bathroom. What did she say? You: That you were busy. What was she doing with your phone? Namjoon: We were working on something in the recording studio. Guess I left my phone in there when I had run to the bathroom. Please don’t think too much into it. You: I’m not. Just curious. Is she helping with Jimin’s Mixtape? How’s that going? Namjoon: Uh, yeah. It’s going well. Hoping to have it down by tomorrow night. I should probably get back to working on it. I’ll call you later, baby.

You read his last text over and over. Your body starts to shake as angry tears begin to spill from your eyes. He lied. He just told you a flat out lie. You don’t even respond back, throwing your phone on the coffee table as you fall onto the couch. You curse at yourself, feeling like such a fool for believing Namjoon had actually changed. He hasn’t changed at all. If anything he picked up more bad habits along the way. Adding a liar and a cheat to your list of reasons why you two won’t be able to work things out. “Well, not a cheat,” you think to yourself. “It’s not like we were back to being boyfriend and girlfriend.” The single thought makes more tears spill down your cheeks as bitterness coats like an undissolving film on your tongue. You turn to your side, curling up into yourself on the couch, the soft sniffles from your crying slowly lulling you to sleep.

Saturday goes by in a blur. You spent the whole day moping on your couch, ignoring every call or text that came your way. You once again cry yourself to sleep. The two glasses of wine and the Valentine’s themed rom coms playing on the TV helping contribute to your tearful state. You wake up Sunday morning after your crying session the night before. Determined to not waste another day moping over your failed relationship, you jump in the shower, giving yourself a quick pep talk as you refuse to let some stupid boy ruin the rest of your weekend.

Getting dressed, you slip on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, forgoing a bra. You aren’t planning on leaving to go anywhere anytime soon. Perfectly content with spending your day alone in your apartment with trash tv and a bottle of wine. You continue to ignore Namjoon’s calls and texts throughout the day. Turning your ringer on silent and placing it face down on your kitchen countertop. The subtle buzzing noise from the vibrations is not as aggravating to your nerves like the noisy ringtone.

It’s just nearing 6PM when you open your fridge, pulling out the unfinished bottle of Moscato from the night before when you hear your phone buzz again. Your curiosity as to why he has called and texted you more in the last 24 hours than he has in the last week gets the best of you. Snatching your phone off the countertop, you see Namjoon’s name flashing on your screen. You swipe to answer the call and bring the phone up to your ear.

“What?” You bite into the phone, the current mood you’re in does not allow you to feign any sense of civility for the start of this conversation.

“Wow. Hello to you, too. Everything okay?” Namjoon speaks cautiously on the other end, worry and confusion evident in his tone.

“Everything’s peachy,” you say, popping your ‘p’ as you pour yourself a glass of wine and take a big gulp. “How’s the mixtape going?” You know Namjoon is able to feel the sarcastic bite to your words, but he doesn’t call you out on it. Continuing on as if he doesn’t notice.

“About that. I wanna show you something. Can you meet me at the studio? And, uh, wear something nice.” His easy tone and his blatant disregard for your obvious annoyance angers you. You take another big sip of your wine and decide to not hold back your frustration any longer.

“Why don’t you show Areum,” you respond, your voice doing a terrible mimic of hers when you say her name.

“What?” Joonie questions. “Y/N. What are you on?”

“You tell me, Joon,” you bark into the phone, your voice starting to raise in volume as you lean back against your kitchen counter. “She’s the one you’ve been spending all of your time with lately. Considering Jimin’s mixtape was finished Wednesday.”

You hear him curse underneath his breath, letting out a sigh before he speaks. “Who told you?”

“Does it matter?” You wait, allowing for time to see if he would at least speak up to try and defend himself. Throw out whatever random excuse to talk his way out of this. But you’re only met with his silence. Every wordless second from him pushes a dagger into your heart. Your chest constricts from the pain and it makes you want to hurry and end the phone call right then and there. “Anyways, I can’t come and meet you. I have company. For a Galentine’s Day.”

“Y/N, I know Tina is out with Jimin. Just please come and see me,” Namjoon says, his tone beginning to sound exasperated.

“I have other friends, Namjoon.” You don’t. Not really. At least not anyone that you’d be hanging out with outside of a work function, but he didn’t have to know that. Nor did he need to know about your canceled Galentine’s plan.

“Come on, Y/N. You’re being ridiculous,” Namjoon huffs into the phone, his tone scolding. You can picture how he looks right now. Fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to control his simmering frustration with you. “Just please come meet me at the studio and I’ll explain everything.”

“No, but I agree. It was ridiculous of me to think you’ve changed. It was ridiculous of me to even try and give us another chance.” You pause your speech as your voice begins to crack. Taking a deep breath in and out of your mouth before continuing. “Now, I have to go. The very deliciously ripped male stripper has arrived. Have a fun life with Areum.”

“For the last time, nothing is going on… Wait did you say a fucking strip --” You end the call, cutting Namjoon off midsentence. A sly smile stretching across your face as you turn off your phone. The smile only lasts for a few seconds until the realization hits. The fact that you and Namjoon are once again ‘no more’ sinks in as quickly as your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest.

Grabbing the wine bottle off the counter, you pour yourself another glass as you walk to your living room, plopping down onto your couch.

You must have dozed off sometime after you finished your last glass of wine. The loud knocking on your door ripping you from your wine induced nap as you’re quickly sitting up on your couch. Your head starts to spin from the quick movement. You stand up, grumbling under your breath that you’re on your way as you walk to the door, unlocking and wrenching it open. “Can you cut it out?” You yell before even looking to see who the crazy visitor was. The moment your eyes focus on the obsessive knocker, they grow twice in size, your mouth dropping open just as wide. “Namjoon?!”

There in your doorway, dressed in the same button up and slacks from the bar weeks before, stands your ex boyfriend. Jaw clenched as he storms into your apartment, throwing the bag he is holding on to your couch as he takes a look around before letting out a scoff. “You cheeky little brat. You lied about the stripper just to make me angry, didn’t you?”

Your face flushes with anger at his accusatory tone. You, the liar? He’s really going to point that finger at you? “Seriously?” you screech, slamming your front door in frustration before walking up to him. “YOU are going to scold ME for lying? How about you explain why you lied about you and Areum before you say ANYTHING to me about lying.”

“Nothing is going on between me and Areum!” He yells back, the growing frustration evident in his tone. The top two undone buttons of his shirt gives you a peek of the red flush growing up his chest and neck from his anger.

“I saw you at the release party with her. I saw the way you had smiled at her as she was clinging on to your arm,” you bark back, blinking back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” His questions coming out through a disbelief laugh.

“After you thought I left. I came back in to grab my purse and I saw the two of you all close and personal while talking to some man.” You cross your arms, waiting to see the “oh shit” look flash on to his face knowing that he’d been caught. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he lets out a sardonic laugh, shaking his head as his hands move to rub his face.

“That was Areum’s father. He owns that Italian restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. She was introducing me to him so I can secure us a Valentine’s Day reservation. You know, for tonight!”

Your mouth drops down into an ‘Oh’ before you quickly shut it. That explains the night of the release, but it doesn’t answer for his behavior this last week or the fact that she was with him Friday night. “Then why lie to me about the mixtape? Why have you been spending so much time with her at work?” Your voice is softer, but the underlying hurt is still evident in your tone.

“I promised her father to help Areum create some demo tracks in exchange for him squeezing us in for a reservation,” he says, dropping his hands from his face to look at you. He takes in your teary expression, his shoulders deflating slightly as he softens his own town before continuing his response. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. And the pressure to try and get Jimin’s mixtape and her demo done before tonight made me tunnel vision on just that.”

You don’t say anything. You stand there just looking at him as he leans up against your couch, guilt creeping into the pit of your stomach. When you don’t say anything, he takes it as a chance to continue. “I thought I had shown you up until then that I’ve changed. I thought I could trust you to be patient with me. That you’d be more understanding.” He looks away from you at the end of his words, clenching his jaw as he looks down at his feet.

“Wow,” you breathe out, not able to think of anything else to say. You both stand there for a few minutes in silence, neither one of you looking at each other as you take in everything he said. It dawns on you that Namjoon wasn’t in the wrong here. Not really. Things could’ve been handled better by him but the same goes for you.

Things were going so well. You had lost yourself in the comforting warmth that came with having him back in your life. The bliss and happiness from experiencing his instant change in attention to you and your relationship overshadowing any thoughts of doubt that existed in your mind, practically making them appear nonexistent. You start to wonder if, in the back of your mind, you were trying to look for something he was doing wrong. Your underlying fear of failure jumping into action the moment anything wrong exposed itself. Latching on to your subconscious and leaking negativity and doubt into you like a poison. Knowing it was your fault that the night he had planned for the two of you was ruined, you knew it was up to you to try to fix it. To try and turn it around. And you have a small inkling of just how you could do that.

“I’m sorry, Joonie,” you say to him as you take a step closer, leaning in with your hand on his chest to give him a quick kiss. He turns away from you just slightly, jaw still clenched as you place a small peck on his cheek. You feel terrible, knowing you should have given him the benefit of the doubt that he wasn’t reverting back to his old ways. That he was really trying to prove to you that he changed. You place another kiss on his cheek, following it up with a few quick kisses on his neck that you feel make him shiver. Your lips twitch up into a smile, knowing you’re breaking through his cold demeanor.

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. A name he loved that you called him, one that you used to your favor to help get you out of trouble. You make your way up to his ear, nibbling on it just slightly before you whisper seductively, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

You feel his body stiffen as you trail your hand down his chest and to the front of his jeans. Your palm barely grazes his growing bulge when he grabs your wrist in his hand, snatching it away from him causing you to back away in surprise. He wraps his other arm around you, his palm pressing at the small of your back to keep you close to him. Your eyes flicker to his and you let out a small gasp as you meet his hooded gaze. The beautiful swirls of cinnamon and honey that paints his irises are gone, disappearing behind a dark, seductive shade of lust. Falling deep into the dark depths of his lustrous gaze, you barely notice the smirk he gives as he leans in towards your ear.

“Oh, no baby. It seems like someone has forgotten her manners.” The deep timber of his voice sends shivers down your spine, straight to your core. You feel the wetness of your arousal leaking from you and you involuntarily rub your thighs together to try and find some relief as he continues the seductive assault on your ear. “Only good girls get to call me Daddy. Disobedient little brats call me Mr. Kim.” He pulls back just slightly away from you, his dark eyes meeting your gaze once again. “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

You cock your head to the side, licking your lips before you give him the most innocent smile. “I am so, so sorry, Mr. Kim.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes at you. His dark orbs piercing into you as he clicks his tongue against his teeth. “You know,” he sneers, pushing himself off the back of your couch. Still holding on to you as he walks you a few steps backwards. “You’ve been acting like a real brat lately. I guess that’s something about you that will never change, hmm?”

He lets go of you, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt as he steps away from you, turning to walk around your couch. You take a step forward to follow him, stopping in your tracks when he raises his finger at you. He wags it back and forth, making a tisk noise as he continues his way around the couch. “Nuh-uh. You stay right there until I call for you, brat.”

The deep, domineering drawl to his voice has your knees weakening. A fresh gush of arousal seeps out of you, pooling in your panties as you continue to rub your thighs together. Still searching for some sort of relief. You know if you were to look right now, you’d bet your underwear would be almost completely soaked. The way the cotton fabric is sticking to your lips a clear indication that your guess is right.

You watch as Namjoon finishes unbuttoning his shirt, leaving it on but open as he stands staring at you with the couch being the only thing between you. He reaches down, placing his hand on top of his growing bulge. He starts moving his arm back and forth, slowly palming himself as if to taunt you. Teasing you with every slow stroke he takes up and down his long, clothed length. His dark orbs scour your entire body. You feel your body tingle as your skin grows hot from his piercing stare. The feeling of hot flames of lust licking at your every nerve ending as his hungry eyes graze over your body. Slowly tracing every dip and curve of your standing figure. You bite your bottom lip, trying to stifle a needy whine that threatens to escape. The verbal reaction, betraying you, rumbling up your throat and slipping past your lips. His eyes flicker up to the subtle movement. His pupils dilating with want at your feral sound. The tension in the air thickens. Your hand twitches from the need to touch him; your mouth beginning to water from craving his taste. Your legs feel restless, the urge to close the distance between you two cause your knees to gently buckle. The need to wrap your legs around him, to push him deep inside you growing stronger by the second.

Namjoon cocks his brow at you. Silently daring you to move before he calls for you. Testing your resolve, your patience, as he continues to stroke himself. You knew this game, loved it. It was one you two played many times before in the year you were together. You knew if you behave, play by his rules, there would be a pleasurable payoff for you in the near future. “Good girls get rewarded,” he once purred into your ear. The memory of past earnings sends a shiver down your spine. But with the way he was looking at you, the anger from your argument still fresh on his mind, you know you would have to work for your reward. Your punishment for misbehaving would come first. The idea of receiving a punishment from Namjoon for the first time in months excites you. The walls of your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing with just the thought of what he has planned for you. You would never admit it to him, but sometimes you enjoy the punishment a lot more than the reward.

Satisfied with your obedience so far, Namjoon smirks at you. Turning his back to you as he sits down on the couch, digging into the bag he threw on to it just moments earlier, taking something out before pushing the bag off the cushion. The bag hits your living room floor, the remaining contents making a noise as they knock together. “Did he bring a bag of toys with him?” you think to yourself. Your thoughts are soon cut off by the sound of him calling out to you, “Come here, baby.”

Your legs move on instinct, your body just a slave to his voice the moment he ignites your carnal desire. You move slowly around the couch, standing in front of where he sits as he continues to stroke himself through his pants. You don’t sit down, no matter how badly you want to straddle him. The position he’s in is the perfect one for you to be able to grind down onto his member. The command is only to come to him. You know doing anything more before he says will just add on to your punishment. The waking brat in you tells you to do it anyways, but you don’t listen to her. Not yet.

Namjoon watches you through his hooded gaze, his eyes roaming over your body until they stop at your chest. Your perk nipples visibly straining through the thin fabric of your tank top. He licks his lips, his voice deep and raspy as delivers another command. “Strip, now.”

You do as you’re told, slowly slipping your sweat pants and panties off at the same time. You take your time standing back upright. Kicking your discarded clothing off to the side as you grab the bottom hem of your tank top. Slowly moving it up your torso inch by inch. “Don’t tease, baby,” Namjoon growls, his dark eyes shooting up to yours as your walls clench again from his warning.

You smile innocently, pulling your tank top up just a little faster. You let the bottom hem catch under your breast, causing your tits to bounce free once you finally lift your tank top over your head, throwing the item up and over Namjoon’s head. You continue to stand, reveling in the way Namjoon devours your curves with his eyes. He meets your gaze once again, taking his hand off his length and placing on the arm of the couch. “On your knees. You understand what to do from there. Right, brat?” He punctuates his words. Eyes never leaving you as you sink to your knees, your hands rushing to free him from the confines of clothing. You grasp the top of his undone pants and boxers. Namjoon lifts his hips just slightly, allowing you to pull his clothes down. His long, thick dick breaking free and slapping against his abdomen.

Your mouth instantly begins to water again. You forgot how big he was. Your eyes trailing up his impressive length, refamiliarizing yourself with the long veins that decorate his beautiful cock. The large mushroom tip, angrily colored red as drops of precum leak out. The need to taste him intensifies. You waste no time in taking him into your grasp. Your small hand wraps around the base of his cock, fingertips no where near touching due to the absurdity of his thickness. You slowly start pumping him, gathering each drop of precum as you reach the top to help lubricate your hand going back down. Namjoon lets out a humor content, eyes still hooded as he watches you stroke his dick. You lean forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you roll your tongue around his tip. You hear his breath hitch, not giving him a chance to catch his breath before you take him into your mouth. You move your head up and down, starting out with shallow bobs as you get accustomed to his length. Taking him in deeper with each pass until you feel his tip graze the back of your throat.

Being out of practice, you gag slight on reflex the moment you feel him touch the back of your throat. A deep moan rumbles through Namjoons chest as his eyes flutter close. His hand moves to your hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail as you start to move faster. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, his hips starting to rut up, matching your pace. His groans motivate you, urging you to take him in deeper, faster. Your throat relaxes as his tip moves past your gag reflex. Namjoon starts guiding you with the hand in your hair, slightly pulling up and pushing down rapidly to quicken his pace. You let him take control, bracing your hands on the couch as your apartment fills with the obscene sounds of Namjoon fucking his dick into your mouth. You feel a messy layer of spit forming around your mouth, mixtures of drool and precum dribbling down your chin as Namjoon continues to pump his length into you. You start to gag again, your lungs burning with the need for air.

Out of nowhere he slams his hips up into you, shoving half his length down your throat. Hand firm on the back of your head to keep you in place. Your eyes start to water. A single tear escaping down your cheek as you close your eyes, concentrating on breathing through your nose to try and catch a much needed breath. You feel Namjoon’s cock twitch deep in your throat. You swallow, the sounds of his appreciating deep groans shooting straight down to your core. Another gush of arousal leaking out of you and you feel it drip down your thigh and on to your floor. Namjoon asks you to do that again through a breathy moan and fulfill his command. Receiving a slurred, “that’s my good girl” as he starts moving your head up and down again. You preen under his praise. His words sparking a fire in you and you take back control of the pace in which you suck his dick. Moving faster and taking him in as deep as you can with each pass. A slew of curses fly past Namjoon’s lips as he clenches your makeshift ponytail tighter.

“Slow down baby or you’re gunna make me cum. I’m not ready yet,” he moans trying to pull up on hair to take back control. You ignore him, bobbing your head faster before you hear a growl roll through his chest. Namjoon yanking you off his dick by your hair as you let out a whine. “I said slow down, you little brat,” he growls, his chest moving rapidly up and down as he tries to catch his breath. You look up at him, a smirk on your lip as you lick around your mouth, gathering up every drop of his salty taste that still lingers. Before you can swallow, Namjoon reaches for your face. Pulling down the corner of your mouth, causing a pool of your precum mixed spit to dribble back down your chin. “You’re just my filthy little cockwhore, aren’t you?” He chides and you hum in approval.

He releases your hair and face, leaning back into the couch and taking his length back into his hand again as he passes out another command, “Turn around, come sit on my dick.” His abrasiveness only further turns you on, hopping up off the floor quickly and turning your back to him. He quickly removes the remainder of his clothing. Tossing his pants and shirt over the couch to join your previously thrown top. He grabs your waist with his free hand, guiding you down in his lap as he positions himself at your core. He pauses your descent, rubbing his tip teasingly between your slick lips as he holds you up. You let out another whine, trying to push yourself down onto him as you speak without thinking. “Don’t tease,” you whine. You feel him move his tip away from your entrance, not allowing you a second to try and figure out where he went when you feel a harsh slap land on your pussy. You cry out, the sensation a mixture of pain and pleasure. “You don’t get to give the orders tonight, brat,” he growls into your ear.

Once again repositioning himself at your lips, resuming his teasing back and forth strokes. You whimper in need, trying so hard to be patient, not wanting to give him anymore reason to lengthen his teasing you. As if he heard your inner plea, he stops his tip right at your entrance, slowly lowering you down onto him. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan, eyes closing shut as you feel the slight sting from the stretch of his large size. The hand you braced on the arm of the couch slips, causing you to fall slightly into Namjoon’s lap, taking more of him in. He lets out a deep moan, the vibrations from his chest rumble on your back, causing another wave of arousal to leak from you. Allowing the last few inches of Namjoon’s absurd length to slip in you until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. “Fuck, I’ve missed this tight little cunt,” he groans and you sigh in satisfaction. A small wave of relief flowing through you now that you have him inside you once again.

A minute passes by as you both sit there not moving; Namjoon’s grip on your waist making it hard for you to move. Your frustration starts creeping up again and you feel your clit pulse with need. You grind down ever so subtly in his lap, trying to create some sort of friction. Your unapproved attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. Namjoon’s hand coming down on you once again, this time the harsh slap landing on your clit. You cry out again, the sting from the slap still lingering but it’s like your body doesn’t even notice, the action only making you grow more wet.

“Impatient little slut,” Namjoon huffs under his breath as he picks up a blue silicone object and slips it on to his finger. He presses a button near the bottom, a faint buzzing sound from the now vibrating silicone ring following shortly after. He presses his covered finger to your clit, still keeping his cock motionless inside of you. You let out a low moan as the low vibrations lick at your little bundle of nerves. Namjoon makes small, slow circles around your swollen bean as he leans your head back with his freehand. He nips at your earlobe. Sweat forming across your brow as he continues his slow circles. A subtle tension forms like a slow coil in your core. The burning need of your growing orgasm, faint but it’s there. It only adds to your frustration, the need to beg for more resting on the tip of your tongue. Namjoon nips at you once more before whispering into your ear, “This little thing has three settings. The more you behave, the higher it will go. Now, are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?”

You nod your head frantically, words escaping you as you try to focus on the low vibrations tickling your clit, trying to find a way to increase the pressure without moving. Namjoon moves the vibrator off you, quickly replacing it with another slap to your clit. You cry out again, your walls clenching around his length causing a low moan to crawl up his chest. Namjoon presses the vibrator back on your clit, still buzzing at the lowest setting. “Use your words, brat,”he commands through clenched teeth. “Now,” he asks again, “are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Kim,” you stammer, your body starting to shake for the need of just more. Namjoon’s free hand trails up your stomach and cups your breast. He takes your hardened nipple between two fingers, rolling it before giving it a pinch. You let out a choked moan as he chuckles in your ear. “That’s my good girl,” he purrs before clicking the button on the vibrator, bumping it up to the mid level as he presses steady circles into your sensitive bean. You can’t control the wanton moans that fall from your lips. Your thighs start shaking in pleasure as the coil in your pit grows tighter, more of your juices leaking onto Namjoon’s cock and down your thighs. You feel your insides start to flutter, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length ever so often. You hear him let out a soft moan each time, his cock twitching inside of you. You lean back against him, arching your back as he keeps up his steady circles on your clit; showing no signs of his finger growing tired. Your head drops back on his shoulder as your eyes flutter shut. You slowly start rolling your hips forward, pushing your clit harder into the vibrator on his hand. The coil in your pit grows tighter, rolling your hips faster as Namjoon kisses your neck. Sucking red welts into your skin as he twirls his fingers faster, pressing the button on the toy and putting it on its highest level. Both of your breaths start to quicken. You feel your impending orgasm right at the precipice of release, all thoughts leaving your head. The only thing barely pulling your focus off chasing your release is Namjoon’s breathy groan in your ear, his velvety baritone pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You gunna cum, baby?” he rasps, meeting each roll of your hips with his own. You nod your head, your mouth falling open as you feel your orgasm creeping up your body. You feel a rumble roll up his chest, a dark chuckle slipping past his lips as you feel his free hand wrap around your throat. “Well. that’s just too damn bad.”

He rips the vibrator away from you as he stops the roll of his hips. You start to whine in protest only for no noise to slip past your lips from the hand around your throat tightening ever so slightly. You feel his breath on your ear, tears forming at the corner of your eyes from the pain of your orgasm slipping away. “Disobedient whores don’t get to cum,” he bites into your ear, releasing his hand from your throat as he grabs a hold of your waist. You barely regain your breath when he starts fucking up into you ferociously, selfishly chasing his own release. You feel your orgasm rapidly build back up, shutting your eyes as you concentrate on its warmth. You try to force the knot inside of you to snap, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your goal as Namjoon shifts his hips. The tip of his cock at just the right angle to hit repeated strikes to the rough patch inside of you. You can taste your release, Namjoon’s pace and precision bringing you right to the edge before he rips you off of him, falling back onto his stomach. You cry out from the sudden loss, your walls and clit pulsing painfully from the departure of another missed orgasm. Strings of his cum shoot up from his twitching length, coating your legs and stomach with his release.

He loosens the grip on your waist. You slid your body off of him and on to the vacant part of the couch. Your legs still quiver as your back meets the soft cushion. Namjoon looks over at you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving as his cock begins to soften to a semi-hard state. The corner of his lips twitches up into a smirk, causing his dimple to appear just briefly as he moves to crawl on top of you. He hovers over you, his face parallel with yours as he touches your face with his hand, wiping away the tears still clinging to your eyes. “You took your punishment well, baby,” he coos, closing his eyes as he places his forehead against yours, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, catching your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

You move your lips in tandem. Namjoon lowers himself on to your body, grinding his rehardening cock against your core. He swallows your moans, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. Your movements become more frantic. Namjoon licking into your mouth as he continues to rut into your pelvis, your kissing turning into nothing but tongue and teeth. He pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips as you both come up for air. He sticks his tongue out, cutting the string as he wraps it around his wet appendage. Pulling it back into his mouth, his eyes darken with lust once more as he peers down at you. “Open,” he commands through gritted teeth.

Your eyes widen slightly, sparkling with anticipation as you open your mouth wide. You stick your tongue out, waiting patiently for whatever he has to give you. After a quick suck in of his cheeks, he forms a ball of spit from his lips, pushing it out with his tongue. It’s slow in its descent down to you. It lands perfectly on your tongue and you quickly pull it into your mouth, swallowing it down before sticking your tongue back as if asking him for more. His eyes light up with mirth, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your lips, trailing more quick kisses down your neck and to your chest. He kisses each of your nipples before settling on one, rolling his tongue around the hardened bud before lightly sucking. You arch into him, his face being smothered by your ample bosom as he continues to suck.

Sneaking his hand down in between you, he cups your heat. Tracing the outsides of your nether lips as you let out a light gasp. You ground down into his hand, silently begging for him to give your more. Your walls and clit are still throbbing, aching for the not one, but two denied orgasms. He releases your nipple with a pop, briefly grazing his teeth across the surface as he peers up at you. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Please let me cum, Daddy,” you whine, your tone embarrassingly high from need. You don’t have to wait long for him to answer your plea. He gathers your neverending leaking arousal on two fingers. Slipping both inside of you at once, easily able to reach knuckle deep due to your level of wetness. He pumps them in and out of you slowly, taking your other nipple into his mouth as he starts to pick up his speed. It’s not long before the knot beings to reform inside of you, your hips starting to match his pace as you fuck yourself onto his fingers. You let out another whine as he bites on your nipple, taking the opportunity to also slip a third finger into your pussy. He pumps them into you faster, curling them ever so often as he finds the sensitive spot inside of you. Your thighs start to quiver as your toes curl as you reach the edge of your release. Your inner walls begin to flutter, warning Namjoon of your impending orgasm. He curls his fingers again, the well timed graze across your rough patch is enough to snap the knot inside of you. Namjoon’s name falls from your lips like a mantra. Your orgasm washes over you in waves as he slightly lessens his pace, helping you ride out your pleasure as long as possible.

At the first sign of you coming down for your high, Namjoon releases your nipple. He resumes his previous pace with his fingers, quickly moving further down your body and taking your swollen clit between his lips. Your hands shoot down into his hair as he begins to suck. You pull at him, overstimulation causing your body to react on it’s own and try to push him away. He releases your clit, leaning up just far enough to land another slap on your pussy. Another choked cry escaping from your throat. “Behave,” he snaps. The one word the only thing he says to you before taking your bud back into his mouth. Feeling your walls begin to tighten again, he fucks into you faster. He curls his fingers with every thrust into you, flicking his tongue against your bud between different pressured sucks. An unearthly screech rumbles up your throat as your second orgasm hits you fast, harder than the one you experienced just a few moments before. Your gushing release forces Namjoon’s hands out from inside of you. Your juices splashing onto his chest as he releases your clit, moving down just a little lower to your clenching hole. You let out a moan as he runs his tongue between your lips. Obscene slurping sounds ringing throughout your living room as he laps up your juices, drinking down every drop like a man starved.

Oversensitivity kicks in again. You push at his head, your body barely able to put any force behind it as it still tries to recover from the back to back bliss. Namjoon releases you from his mouth, chuckling at you as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Evidence of your release still dripping from his chin as he moves back up your body to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, wrapping the muscle around your’s, painting it with the leftovers of your release. The taste of your arousal re energizes you, sucking his tongue between your lips to taste yourself even more. Still kissing you, Namjoon maneuvers your legs around his waist. He breaks the kiss, murmuring for you to hold on. He stands up off the couch, lifting you up at the same time. You let out a playful squeal as you throw your hands around your neck to keep you from falling. His hands are under your ass as he carries you towards the hallway leading to your bedroom. He kisses you as he walks, his hand groping your ass as he balances you with each step. His cock, nestled between your pussy and his abdomen, twitches with arousal from your continued moans.

He barely makes it to your closed bedroom door before pushing you up against it. You use the hard surface to support yourself, leaning back into as you grind your core on Namjoon’s cock. Your slick lips coating his length with your arousal as he ruts up into you, matching your movement. He leans in for a kiss and you catch him off guard. Catching his plump bottom lip between your teeth, biting it every so softly as you suck on it. Namjoon letting out a choked moan as you let it go. He pushes you further into the door, using the extra support to allow himself to position his dick at your entrance. “You think you can cum for me one more time, baby?” He asks you through a smirk, his slightly taunting tone poking at your inner brat, coaxing her to come out and finally play.

“Of course I do,” you state cockily. “The real question is can you make me cum one more time. Baby.” Namjoon lets out a deep growl and you feel the vibrations shoot straight to your cunt. Mixtures of adrenaline and excitement burning inside you as anger sparks like a flame in Namjoon’s eyes. He slams his thick rod to the hilt inside you. You let out a strangled moan from the sudden intrusion. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders as he pushes off your door. He starts fucking up into you. Gravity brings you down harder on him as he bounces you on his cock.

“Next time, I’m gagging the little bratty mouth of yours,” he growls. He makes a quick grab for the doorknob, opening the door and stumbling into your room and towards your bed.

Namjoon is still speared inside you as he drops you both onto your bed, scooting you up the mattress until your head meets your pillow. He grabs you under your knee, lifting it up and into your chest, allowing him to fuck into you at a deeper, more delectable angle. “This pussy was fucking made for me,” he grunts. Sweat coloring his brow as he continues plowing into you. His balls slapping your ass each time he drives himself to the hilt inside of you. Your hands grasp at the sheets, your eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm growing once again. Wanton moans fall from your lips with every delicious stroke of his cock against your velvety walls. Your pussy is still sensitive from your previous two orgasms, slight oversensitivity kicking in but it only heightens the pleasure. You open your eyes, your lids fluttering from the pleasure as you blink to focus your vision on Namjoon. The street light peeking through the window falls on his face, allowing you to see him, eyes closed with his mouth dropped open, losing himself in the pleasure that is you. As if he feels your stare, he opens his eyes and peers down at you. His pupils are blown with lust yet his gaze brims with so much love and adoration as he continues to stare at you, causing a warm comfort of matching affection to start to bloom in your chest.

Dropping your knee, he slows his thrust. Changing to grinding deep into you as he moves his hands to cup your face. Kissing you deeply, he rests his forehead on yours again, speaking to you softly between labored breaths. “You know you’re the only one I want like this. Or like anything. I only want you.”

Your lips spread wide in a smile, your hands release their grip on the bed sheets, moving to the back of his head. You bring him in for another kiss before returning his sentiment. “I feel the same way, Joonie,” you huff out softly. “Now fuck me.”

Namjoon’s lips break into a quick smirk before pressing a rough kiss into yours. He pushes himself back up. A hand on your waist and his other pushed up against your head board as he starts deeply thrusting into you at an unrelenting pace. Your hands claw at his back as you arch up into him. The sensation of him striking your g-spot quickly brings another orgasm into fruition. A delicious warmth pooling in your core as you feel his movements start to stutter. “I’m close, baby,” he confesses through gritted teeth. His voice is strained as he tries to hold on just a bit longer to his release. Breathy whines asking him to ‘Don’t stop’ the only thing you're able to say in response as you creep closer and closer to the edge. He moves his hand on your waist between you, finding your clit with his thumb and rubbing it in quick circles. “Come with me, baby.” He only lasts a few more pumps into you before he’s driving into you deep, tip pressed firmly into your rough patch as he loses himself to his release. You’re quick to follow him, that last thrust the last push you need to send you over the edge. His seed spilling into you in never ending spurts, filling you up to the brim as your pussy clenches around him. He collapses on top of you, the rhythmic pulses of your walls continuing to milk him for all he’s worth, soaking up every last drop of his release.

You both lie there, chests moving rapidly up and down as you both try to catch your breaths. Namjoon's softening cock still nestled inside of you as you lightly trail your fingers up his spine. After a few minutes, he leans up, pulling himself out of you as you both wince from the loss. The mixture of your combined release starts to slowly leak out of you, dripping onto your bedsheets. He rolls to lay beside you, sliding his arm under your shoulders to pull you into him. The stickiness of your skin from your labored sweat feeling slightly uncomfortable on his, but you don’t care. Still wrapping your arms around him, your head on his chest as he rests his chin on you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. Or lied about why I was staying late. I just really wanted to surprise you and I’m terrible at keeping secrets,” he says, nuzzling his face into your hair as you scoot in closer to him.

“I know, Joonie. And I’m sorry, too. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I promised to be more understanding and I didn’t do that.” He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to lie back on the bed, still facing him.

“Then let’s start over. Try working on things again. This time, as boyfriend and girlfriend,” he asks, smiling down at you as you smile back at him. Propping up on an elbow, you raise your head up and catch his lips in a deep kiss. His smile while kissing you back lets you know that this was an acceptable enough answer. Breaking apart, you lay back down as he moves to trail kisses across your shoulder. “I brought a whole bag of things to use on you, and I barely got to dive into it. Just another thing that didn’t really go as planned,” he says with a sigh, propping his head on his hand as he looks down on you. You glance at the clock on your bedside table before turning back to Namjoon. “The night’s still young,” you purr, trailing one of your fingers down his chest. “How about you spend the night, and I’ll let you use the whole bag on me twice.”

Namjoon grins wide, mischief coloring his eyes as he maneuvers himself back on top of you. “Deal.”

#bts smut #bangtansorciere #bangtanuniversity #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #btsbookclub #houseofddaeng #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #bts fan fic #namjoon fan fic

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cuttinqlines · 3 years

Text

IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR II

(richard ramirez [ahs 1984] x reader | mainly implied xavier plympton x reader)

trigger warning; drug use, toxic relationships, mentions of abuse, toxic characters, xavier is portrayed as a major piece of shit for the first few installments, glorification of a serial killer, knives, etc.

disclaimer: i do not support the real richard ramirez in any way, shape, or form. this is simply based on the fictional version from ahs 1984. no disrespect is intended in any way. please, feel free to click off of the fic if you don’t enjoy this type of content. any hate will be ignored.

word count: 2,467

a/n: sorry this took so long. im a depressed piece of shit lmao.

taglist: @kuollut-talven @felicityofbakerstreet @bitchcraft1398

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IT HAD ONLY been a few days since your run-in with the self-proclaimed ‘Night Stalker’ yet it felt like years had passed. The memory of the event was constantly running through your mind, seeming to occupy your every thought. It was as if your mind was filled only with visions of dark hair and piercing dark eyes. It had gotten to the point where it was consuming you, distracting you from anything that wasn’t the thought of him. It was impossible to focus. You weren’t exactly sure that you wanted to. The part of you that desperately longed for the dark stranger to reappear and tear you away from your dilapidating life was overtaking you. You had almost wished that you would have given in to his demands that night. Almost. Something had been holding you back that night and something- someone- was still holding you back, tethering you to the place you had grown to despise.

Letting out a sigh, you stared at yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to shake away the thoughts that continuously plagued you. The ghost of a bruise still showed underneath your eye, barely noticeable with the makeup that you had delicately applied over it. You looked better than you had in the days before, but you still weren’t keen on leaving the confines of the four walls of your bedroom, let alone your apartment. You hadn’t left the house since that night. You were sure everyone thought that you were spiraling- He had probably twisted the story into that narrative. You turned away from the mirror, leaning against the base of the sink. It was time to face the situation at hand. You could already feel the silent judgment of Montana. She had told you so. “Fuck.”

It shouldn’t have mattered that much to you- what everyone thought. It’s not like they had too much room to judge. They were your friends, sort of, but they didn’t rule you. They weren’t the end all be all. Still, you couldn’t help but feel nervous at the thought of facing them. It had been days of voicemails, knocks on the door, and missed phone calls. You had gone ghost. They wouldn’t have expected anything else, though. It wasn’t unlike you to disappear. You were used to disappointing everyone.

After a few more minutes of anxiety and deliberation, you laid out a pretty white line, snorted it down, and got ready to head out the door. At the very least, you could show up to aerobics and casually run into everyone. By the time you got there, you were sure you could figure out how to gloss over all of the problems that kept on appearing.

****

The Aerobics studio hadn’t changed much in your week of absence. The faces of the instructors were still plastered on the walls, yours still included much to your surprise. The chairs strategically placed throughout the lobby were occupied by young adults, laughing at something one of them had said. The ambiance was peaceful and you suddenly wished that you would have shown up for work in the last week. The thought quickly diminished as you thought back to the bruise that had been occupying your face. There was no way you would have shown up with that. You wouldn’t have given him the satisfaction. Stepping up to the front desk, you leaned against the counter lazily.

“Hi. Do you have any classes with vacant spaces open for today, Janice?” You asked the receptionist a bit awkwardly, looking at the wall behind her as you spoke.

The woman looked up, purposefully making direct eye contact. She looked you up and down, judgement written all over her face. “Yes. The instructor position for the class you teach at 6:30, (Y/N). If you want to keep your job, I suggest you get prepared for it and go teach it.”

You couldn’t help but cringe at her tone. The attitude dripped off of it like poison. Truth be told, you had thought that you had already been fired. That is generally what happens after you drop off of the face of the planet for a week. “Right- I’ll just go ahead and get set up to start, then. Thank you.”

“You’re lucky that you showed up today. You’re really pushing it with your delinquent behavior. Shape up or ship out, sweetheart. This is the last time you’re getting exceptions. You’re really lucky that Montana covered your classes for the week. Now, get moving. It’s 6:20. Studio 3.”

Janice hardly gave you time to react, as she stood up and began to push you towards the direction of the studio. Her cold touch caused an unpleasant shiver to shoot through your spine. Your mind instantly drifted to your unwelcome house guest, though the shiver he gave you was not exactly unpleasant- You mentally scolded yourself for obsessing over the ‘Night Stalker’, before practically bursting into the studio.

It felt as if a million eyes landed on you from the moment you opened the door. The never-ending stares seemed to burn holes into your skin. One pair of eyes, in particular, seemed to stare the deepest. Xavier. You flickered your gaze to meet his, the other people in the room disappearing into a sort of tunnel that consumed the sides of your vision. Your heart caught in your chest. You wanted to tear your eyes away, but there was something stopping you. Something about Xavier always seemed to hold you back. His gaze was pleading, an apology seeming to spill out of it.

“(Y/N)! I thought you were going to be out for a while! Xavier said that you were like super sick or something.” Montana’s voice rang out, casually. “So happy you’re here though. Teaching this class has been such a drag.”

At the sound of the young woman’s voice, your head instinctively jerked towards it. You plastered a pained smile onto your face. “Yeah- thanks for covering for me, Montana. I seriously owe you one. Being sick was a major drag. Probably worse than teaching this class of Cyndi Lauper obsessed boys.”

The blonde let out a laugh. “Well, since you’re back, I’ll let you take this one. And maybe take your man out when you’re done. He’s been such a buzzkill lately.”

Montana gave you a wink, patting your shoulder affectionately. With a final wave to you and Xavier, she slipped out the door and disappeared down the hall with a flash of blonde hair. Not wanting to waste any more time, or give Xavier the chance to talk to you, you flicked the boom box on and let the sound of Billy Idol’s voice fill the room.

****

The entirety of the class went by uneventfully. Billy Idol’s soothing tone seemed to temporarily soother your anxiety, making it easier for you to ignore the pained glances that were becoming more and more inescapable. You left the music on as the class drew to a close, turning the volume down to a soft, but audible hum. You didn’t bother to look as everyone made their way to the door. Instead, you moved towards the front of the room, letting yourself face the large windows that looked out towards the city.

You watched as people leaving the last few classes of the evening walked down the sidewalk, off into the night. Some faces were familiar, regulars that always seemed to be in aerobics class. Other faces, unfamiliar and new. They all seemed so happy, as if their lives were perfect. You wished that you could get a taste of that feeling. You continued to admire the citizens of Los Angeles, lost in your thoughts. Then, in a sudden flash, there was a single face that stuck out in the crowd. Unmistakable dark hair and piercing eyes that could have belonged only to the face that you could never forget. You locked eyes with the man, causing a sinister smile to appear on his face. He moved closer to the building. Your heart skipped a beat. He was headed towards the door. Your eyes were still locked with his, nothing could-

“(Y/N)... Can we talk about what happened the other night? Please… I didn’t mean for it to go so far.” Xavier’s voice hit your ears, soft and pleading.

You broke away from the ‘Night Stalker’s’ gaze, slowly turning to face the man that you had once felt so strongly for. You leaned against the windows behind you, pressing your nearly bare back against the cool glass. Xavier took a few steps closer, leaving only a few inches between your faces. You couldn’t help but flinch as he reached out to tenderly touch your face. Hurt flashed across his face briefly, but his hand still gently came into contact with your soft skin. You let your eyes flutter closed and sucked in a sharp breath. “I- I can’t do this,” you whispered, hot tears pricking in the inner corner of your eyes. So many different emotions were running through your body. The urge to run away from him had never been so heightened.

He grazed his thumb gingerly across your jawline, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Please. I just wanted it so badly and I thought that was the only way. And I didn’t want anyone to find out. The way you looked at me when you did- I lost it. I thought you would tell everyone. I thought you would leave me. I’m so sorry.”

You had yet to respond to him when a cutting voice interrupted the scene unfolding before you. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The deep voice questioned, sinister laughter etched into his tone.

“N-?” You began, eyes flickering open. You met the dark haired man’s eyes, looking directly past Xavier. He was already staring at you intensely, the usual smirk plastered on his face.

“Richard.” He corrected, moving his eyes from you to the other man in your company. Xavier had moved away from you by this point, looking at Richard with a suspicious glare. Richard simply continued to smirk at him, looking more and more devilish as time passed. “My little angel, didn’t expect to see you so soon. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Okay. Who the fuck are you?” Xavier demanded, his hand wrapping around your forearm in a protective manner. You instinctively recoiled to his touch. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching as the two began to go back and forth.

“I’m the devil’s favorite prodigy. It’s more like ‘who the fuck are you?’” The other man taunted. His eyes locked on the contact point of yours and Xavier’s skin. An unreadable emotion flashed across his face, but was quickly replaced with his usual infuriating smirk. “I’ve decided I’m here to collect her. Truth be told, it wasn’t originally in my master and I’s plan, but it seems like I stumbled in at the perfect time, with you harassing my girl.”

“Your-? (Y/N), are you fucking this guy? We get into one fight and you’re off giving it out to this creep?” The blonde questioned, his tone demanding and incredulous. His voice rose with every word that he spoke. He was red in the face by this point. You could tell by the clench in his jaw and the way his hand tightened around you that he was angry. The smug expression of Richard definitely wasn’t helping his reaction either.

You tried to ignore the fear that had begun to creep into the back of your mind, your mind flashing back to his closed fist accidentally ramming into your face. You looked up at him with your tear stained face. Words were failing you. You didn’t exactly want to say that Richard had broken into your house, pinned you against a wall, and sparked something inside of you that made you feel so many fucked up things. Was it really more fucked up than what you felt about Xavier after everything that he had done? You weren’t so sure any more. Xavier seemed to take your silence and lack of denial as a ‘yes’ to his questions. Disgust took over his face, his hand tossing your arm away as if it had suddenly turned into some sort of cursed object.

He scoffed at you, shoving you away from his body. “I can’t believe you would do this to me. Maybe you deserved that.” He spat out venomously, angrily gesturing to the hardly hidden bruise underneath your eye.

You flinched as his hand raised. Something seemed to click into place for the dark haired man as he watched the two of you, your reaction triggering the darkest part of him. You hardly had time to react further, before Richard was in front of you. His left arm pressed back against your body, gently shoving you behind him. His right hand was adorned with his blade, ready to slash at the man before him. “You did that to her? For your sake, I hope you say no. I’d hate to have to kill you right here. It would really throw a wrench into the master’s plans and we both hate that.”

Your hand reached out slowly, tugging on the edge of this sleeve, beckoning his eyes to meet your eyes. He complied, looking over his shoulder quickly. You shook your head at him, a silent plea for him to drop it. He was already acting psychotic enough to have the police called on him and you were sure that would be the last thing that he wanted. He looked back to Xavier, who was staring at him incredulously. “Get the fuck out of here or die,” The dark haired man spat out.

Xavier gave you a pointed look, before shoving past the both of you and storming out of the studio. You knew he would show up at your apartment later, demanding explanations for the psychotic interaction that just went down. You would figure out a way to avoid that later. For now, your full attention was on Richard. He turned towards you, dark eyes studying the every feature on your face. His hand hovered over the side of your neck, before gently pushing your hair to the side. His fingers softly trailed down the side of your throat, traveling down your chest. Like a phantom, they grazed the length of your body, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You softly bit down on your bottom lip, eyes staring straight into his. “You’re mine now, little angel. I’ll kill for you. I’ll die for you. But you have to be mine forever- That’s the catch. Will you sell your soul to the devil?”

“I will.”

#ahs 1984 #ahs fanfiction #ahs x reader #richard ramirez #richard ramirez x reader #night stalker #In The Midnight Hour #american horror 1984 #xavier plympton #xavier x reader

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

Note

Drabble suggestion: amity goes to luz’s house in the human world and Luz shows her her room and amity sees luz’s stuff animals that were on her bed in yl and Luz explains their names and stuff to them and like tells her about them

Memories and Plushies

Luz frantically zoomed around her room with a vacuum, sucking up every little bit of crump she could find.

"I'll admit, I didn't expect you to be so tidy," Vee said from the top bunk, watching her sister work, "Not after seeing the mess here you left for me to take care of."

"I'm normally not," Luz confessed, "But that's because I've never had a girlfriend coming over before. Amity already saw the mess in my room at the Owl House. Can't let her think I'm that much of a slob here."

"I feel like it might be worse that you're more of a slob in a stranger's house than you are in your own home."

Luz opened her mouth to retaliate, but the sound of the doorbell ringing cut her off.

"Oh, my gosh, that's her!" she ran to the mirror, doing some checkups. "How do I look?!"

"Like you always do," Vee rolled her eyes, "You should probably go open the door instead of leaving her waiting like this."

"You're...RIGHT! What am I thinking?!" Luz then bolted out of her room, zoomed down the stairs, and came to a screeching halt at the front door.

"Ok, don't freak out," she whispered to herself. Opening the door, Luz smiled brightly at Amity, who looked nervous as she smiled back.

"Hey, Luz," the witch waved.

"Hi, Amity!" Luz stepped aside and let her girlfriend in, "Welcome to my humble abode. Hope you're not disappointed."

"Well, I've been inside for ten seconds, and I already see a picture of you as a baby. So I say that I'm satisfied."

Luz curiously looked to where Amity was pointing and felt her blood run cold at the picture of a three-year-old Luz having a bubble bath. Instantly, she ran over and flipped it around.

"Ha! That's, uh...that's not for your eyes. Now, um, how about we head up to my room?"

Amity's signature flush grew upon her face.

"You're room? Now? Just the two of us?"

"Actually, Vee's there too. According to my mom, while she trusts me to not do something PG-13, she'd still feel better to have someone keeping an eye on us while she's at work. Vee'll do because it turns out she's older than me by, like, a month."

"Oh, good," Amity breathed a sigh of relief, "Because, um...that seems like too much for me."

"I don't know why," Luz took Amity's hand and led her upstairs. "I mean, you've been in my room a bunch of times at the Owl House."

"I know. But something about being in you're real bedroom, the room you basically grew up in, it...it seems different, I guess."

"Well, I hope it's easy to get through. Because..." Luz presented her bedroom, "Here it is!"

"Oh, wow. It is actually...just about as I would expect it to be," Amity said with a grin.

"Really?"

"Right down to the cute pile of stuffed animals. Although, I would not have predicted the bunk bed. Or the basilisk laying on the top bunk, for that matter."

"Hi," Vee waved in her basilisk form. "Sorry for the appearance. I just thought that this would look less weird than a copy of your girlfriend."

"It does, actually," Amity admitted as she strolled inside, looking at her surroundings.

"You're not disappointed, are you?" Luz asked with a twiddle of her thumbs. Amity chuckled at the apparent nervousness.

"Far from it," she sat down at the bed, waiting as Luz soon followed. "So...what do we do now?"

"Mom said no making out," Vee warned, to which Luz punched the top bunk in response.

"We can do whatever we want," Luz smiled at her girlfriend, "Aside from making out. Mom was very clear about that."

"I bet," Amity picked up a stuffed rabbit with a scarf. "This guy's cute. Does he have a name?"

"Uh, yeah, he has a name," Luz said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They all do. Wanna hear them?"

"Sure."

"Well, this little guy is Flopsy," Luz took the rabbit, "Because what else are you going to call a rabbit."

She then picked up the stuffed cow with a missing button eye.

"This is Killer. She got that name because her one eye makes her look cool."

"Why does she only have one eye?" Amity asked.

"It was always missing since my dad bought it for me at a garage sale. In fact, all of these came from him in one way or another."

Luz picked up an orange ghost-looking plush with a blue nose and then a plush jack o'lantern.

"Both of these came from two different fairs," she explained, holding up the ghost first. "Dad won me Danella from the Fourth of July fair when I was eight and bought be Jacko here when I was five, and he took me to a Halloween festival."

Luz then set them aside and picked up the stuffed turtle and snake.

"And when I wanted pets, but Mom didn't think I was ready, Dad bought be Terrance and Ophelia for my sixth birthday party. But it's Jorge that I really appreciate."

Luz picked up the big, white plushy with a greenish-blue face.

"It was the last gift he gave me before leaving. It wasn't for a birthday or even Christmas. He just said that he saw it, thought of me, and bought it because of that."

Amity took notice of the sad look on Luz's face and frowned.

"I don't think I have ever heard you talk about your dad before," the witch said, grabbing her human's hand into her own. Luz smiled at the contact, but it was noticeably lacking in its usual optimism.

"I, um...I don't like to think about it much. The fun times we had are always nice to think about, but it's not too long until they make me feel...I don't know what they make me feel, but I definitely don't like it."

"He sounds like a great man, though."

"He really was...But, sometimes, when I sleep at night with all of these stuffed animals he bought me...I guess...I guess it makes me feel like he's still here."

Luz went to wipe a tear, feeling Amity use a thumb to brush a comforting pattern over her knuckles. It was a peaceful moment between them...ruined by Vee sticking out from the top bunk.

"So that's why Mom looked so flabbergasted at me suggesting I should sell them," she said with a face full of regret, shocking Luz to her core.

"You were going to sell my BABIES!?"

"I didn't know they meant so much to you! Which is why when Camila looked at me that way, I just told her I was joking and put them in the closet. It still got me a weird look, but--"

"YOU PUT MY BABIES IN THE COLD DARK CLOSET!?"

"I'm sorry, ok! What can I do to make it up to you?"

Luz opened her mouth to protest further, but an idea popped into her head.

An idea that made a faint blush glow on her cheeks.

"You could...give Amity and me five minutes together," she suggested, "Alone. Without telling Mom."

Amity blushed as well, looking between both sisters with bated breath.

"..." Vee sighed, climbing down to the floor. "Fine. But only five minutes."

"Deal!" Luz and Amity exclaimed in unison, making both of their blushes grow darker. Vee only rolled her eyes and slithered out the room, shutting the door behind her.

Briefly, Luz and Amity just sat in silence, fiddling with their own fingers and looking anywhere but each other. When they eventually made eye contact, they both grinned excitedly at one another.

Amity was the first to lean in.

"Wait!" Luz protested. As quickly as she could, she then rotated her stuffed animals so that they would all look away from them. "Ok, now we can go."

Amity chuckled at her girlfriend's behavior, leaning in again to make the most of their five minutes.

#the owl house #luz noceda #toh vee #amity blight #lumity #lumity is canon #luz and vee are sisters #the hiatus of drabbles

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

First things First | Jack Kline & Peter Parker

Summary; Peter sees his ex back in town. Last time she was with her brothers, but this time, she has another companion. His name is Jack Kline, and he is her current boyfriend.

Warnings; some angst, jealousy, a bit of trash talk, smidge of violence, one swear word

“You’re back then.” Peter noticed, following you as you walked through the school halls, your head down as you attempted to ignore him. But however, you knew that you couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there forever, and so you softly sighed.

Last time, you hadn’t been in town too long, only a few weeks, cases were sprouting up left right and centre in Queens, and that was enough time for a relationship to briefly brew between the pair of you.

However, when the entourage of hunts came to an end, it had only been fair to cut sweet Peter loose, you hadn’t planned to return in any soon time. And here you were, a year in a half later, back in his hometown.

“You’re eyes are quite inquisitive, Parker, or do you need to ask me to put rock salt on my skin to prove that I’m not a ghost?” You barked back, which earnt yourself a confused frown.

“What?” He asked in reply, confused by your wording.

“Never mind, you wouldn’t get it.” You dismissed, having already had the intel and advice from your brothers that two different worlds didn’t mix.

Peter was but a boy, a smart one, but for all that you were aware, he lived a mundane life. He was bullied at school, but he had a couple of friends, Ned and MJ.

MJ. She had liked Peter before you had disappeared in the impala, it wouldn’t be a surprise if the pair were together now. He had wanted to forget you, for causing him so much pain, he deserved to move on, as you had.

“What I got was that you told me you loved me, and then you went with the wind, and didn’t look back, not once.” He bit back, his statement making your body feel heavy.

It was guilt, a familiar feeling for a hunter. It often came when a life was lost by the life of a monster, and this time, it had been the same. You had taken away the happiness from your own life, you were the beast that ripped out someone’s heart.

“I did, but that doesn’t matter anymore Pete, I’m in love with somebody else. There’s nothing that I am entailed from hiding from him, no secrets, I can be myself with him.” You pursed your lips, relieved that you had got that off your chest.

“You never had to have secrets! Your family business is what dragged us down in the first place, you feel the need to follow your brothers around the world, and for what? To end up alone and unloved?”

“I love her.” Jack entered the hallway, he had been at the front office, asking about the plumbing, he said he heard a noise. It was what the victim had said before he died, and so the spawn of Lucifer was now questioning it.

Sam and Dean were downtown, at some bar, it had been where the victim had been, with a fake id, before his body had been found in the school bathroom. This left the group of you spread out, and operating around the city, wanting to find the creature that had ended the boy’s life.

Jack’s voice had been friendly, as though he were informing Peter of your relationship status. Neither of them knew each other, so he found no harm in letting the public know of your intimate bond.

The nephilim was most often than not a free speaker, he found no foul in letting his mouth run. He was so innocent, so pure, and perfect, you were pleased that you hadn’t tainted him nor gained his spite like you had with Peter.

“Jack, this is Peter. I met him last time I was around here. Peter, this is Jack, my boyfriend.” It was an awkward introduction, you held your hands together, watching as Jack held out his hand for your ex to shake.

Peter hesitantly shook Jack’s hand, lightly glaring at the boy. “It’s nice to meet a friend of y/n’s, not many that she has are her age.”

“Thanks for that Jack.” You laughed lightly, holding sweetly onto his arm, as to ensure him that he had done nothing wrong.

“We’re not friends.” Peter corrected him, squinting at you. “She doesn’t like the idea of any relationship with me, so she can pass on friendship.” He gave you one last look, before he walked away.

“Hi.” Jack saw your ‘friend’ in the hall, whilst you were questioning some other students. Peter reluctantly turned, going face to face with your boyfriend and partner in justifying crime.

“Hey.” His head briefly leant back, curious as to why the new boy was speaking to him. “Jack, right?”

“Yes, that is my name.” Jack nodded with a smile, the adorable gap in his teeth presenting itself clearly. “Have you felt any cold spots here recently, or smelt sulphur by any change?”

His question made Peter frown, he gulped and thought before he decided to answer. “I don’t know why your going around asking questions, but I also do not know why you’re dating y/n. She’ll break your heart, it’s what she does.”

“The two of you don’t sound like very good friends.” He speculated, tilting his head like a puppy dog, his bright eyes filled with curiosity.

“We weren’t just friends Jack, I’m surprised she didn’t tell you about me. Maybe there was a reason for that, you should ask her.” Peter crossed his arms, taking note of how he seemed to have angered the other boy.

The son of Lucifer was inhaling and exhaling through his nostrils, he was attempting to remain calm. But he couldn’t, his eyes seared with their golden pigment, and upon witnessing, Peter’s eyes widened and he was fast to sling webbing towards the mutant.

But it had no affect, not as Jack’s mouth opened, and a scream on another wavelength , which happened to throw the spider man backwards into the row of lockers. This was not normal, and Peter worried for the reason that you had the company of such a creature.

“What the hell are you?” Peter asked, wanting an answer so he could figure out a way to defeat him.

“I’m someone that loves y/n very much. Don’t worry, we won’t be in town much longer.” And with that, the strange and peculiar being walked away, leaving Peter stunned. For once, he wasn’t sure how he would improvise.

“You know the boy’s toilets are for guys, right?” Peter asked later in the day, as he watched you, whom was drenched in water, leave said restroom.

“I am more than aware, thankyou for that reminder Peter.” Each footstep dripped water upon the floor. That ghost had been a bitch to send off, but to your relief, you had done so.

“What are you doing here, really?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m going to be leaving tonight, I’ll be all out of your hair.” You spoke, trying to remain calm with your previous partner. “Have you seen Jack?”

“About that...” he noticed how you furrowed your brow with his words, and realised it would be better to get straight to the point. “He’s not normal, there’s something different about him. He’s dangerous.”

“I guess you witnessed something... supernatural?” He slowly nodded his head, thinking about how it could be considered as such. “Jack, he’s a nephilim, half angel, half human. That’s why I can’t stick around, my life is messy, and I have a duty to save people, you understand that, right?”

“Why would I understand that?” He hesitated, his voice stepping over his words in a worried stutter. “Angels?!” He repeated.

“Yeah, not every takes lightly to the news, and a bit of information; the majority are dicks.” You laughed, shoving your hands in your soggy pockets. “You really think I didn’t have a clue that I was dating a spiderman? I investigate abnormal occurrences for a living, it was quite easy to notice something was different about you.”

“So you look into things like cold spots and sulphur smells?” He remembered that was what Jack had mentioned earlier. Perhaps the possibility of angels wasn’t half crazy, the universe was expanding. It was certainly out there, but so was a talking, moving tree that enjoyed digital games and was experiencing puberty.

“Exactly.” You smiled, looking into his deep brown eyes, and finding some kind of peace between the pair of you.

“I think I saw Jack in the library.” He scratched the back of his neck, deciding to be a bigger person and give into the planet’s order.

“Thanks, see ya around Parker.” That expression you gave him shouldn’t have made him feel so giddy, he knew that this was another goodbye you were sending him. But the relief on your faces was beautiful.

You walked momentarily backwards, and he raised his hand in a signalled send off. He hoped that one day, he would see you again, maybe even with Blade as he killed vampires. Who knew?

One thing he was aware of was that you were happy with Jack, and that the two of you shared a life. You had an even amount of knowledge between you, and as much as Peter hated to admit it, you weren’t bound to leave the nephilim any time soon.

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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

Text

T.W.A.A: The Eccedentesiast

This is a one shot I started last night and I finished it at around 2 am because I’m an insomniac. Sadly this isn’t the 10k+ word one shot I was talking about (I’m still writing it aaa) but this one is around 4-5k words long so I hope you enjoy. This is rushed, badly written, badly plotted and badly named.

TW: Dark topics such as sexual assault and suicide is mentioned in this piece of writing.

Paris, the City of Love, what a big misconception that was. If anything, Paris should've been labeled as the City of Misery considering the fact it was haunted by a villain who preyed on negative emotions. No one outside of Paris knew though, they were oblivious to the fact hundreds, thousands even millions had died in the city home to the Eiffel Tower, only to be resurrected and tormented with the memories of their death. It was worse for Marinette though, she had watched all the citizens, her beloved citizens, die before her eyes and she was powerless to help them. Their screams of anguish and cries of pain forever ghosted her nightmares. It wasn't just their blood that she drowned in, she was bullied, abused and betrayed in her civilian form by those she trusted the most.

Her classmates. She thought she could trust them but they left her for someone shinier and newer. They all hurt her, destroyed her hard work, verbally and physically bullied her. Nino and Kim, her childhood friends had turned their backs on her too, even joining the others in causing her physical and emotional pain. Alya, her best friend, had become her main abuser. The reporter stabbed the poor bluenette in the back, figuratively. Lila was the one who did it literally. Lila, the sound of the name itself made Marinette sick, after all, the brunette was the one who did this to her. She made her friends turn their backs on her, she made them abuse her and she only watched with fake crocodile tears and a smug smile when no one was looking. And Adrien, he was the worst of all. When Marinette was younger, Adrien was the embodiment of perfection. But now? All she could see was a spineless coward and a predator.

As Chat Noir, he wouldn't participate in the battles, only flirting with her hero persona. He would whine like a toddler when she rejected his advancements. Even when he did join in the battles, he was useless, ignoring anything that Ladybug would tell him and go straight for the kill which never worked. Chat Noir was incompetent and a sexual harasser. As Adrien, however, he was much more. Just two days ago, he had tried to sexually assault the young bluenette. The blonde had underestimated the girl and she managed to get away but nothing could erase her memory of the event.

The ultimatum Lila had delivered to Marinette when she thirteen seemed over-dramatic and seemingly impossible at the time. Yet three years later, she was at the point of no return. Her classmates, her friends, her teachers, the boy she once loved, her partner, her parents. They all left her. Mayor Bourgeois, fearing for his daughter's safety, had sent Chloe to New York with her mother. Luka was on tour with his father so they could build a better relationship. Kagami had a family affair back in Japan that would last for at least a month. She was truly alone. Her parents had fallen victim to Lila's lies and Marinette overheard them discussing about kicking her out. The only one by her side throughout the whole ordeal was Tikki, her beloved kwami. Even Master Fu had to leave her.

Marinette felt shut out by the rest of the world. Sure, Paris adored Ladybug but it felt different. She was fighting battles alone, she stood as the last survivor, the last protector of Paris. She took that title in stride, or that's what the Parisians thought. In reality, she was hiding behind a mask.

The bluenette had suffered endlessly for years, she was ready to break that cycle of torture. Yesterday, she came to the solid conclusion of who Hawkmoth was, who is accomplices were and what his motive was. Gabriel Agreste was the man behind Paris' torment, Nathalie Sancœr was one of his accomplices and so was Lila Rossi. For his motive, he wanted to bring his wife back. Marinette understood the pain he was in but she wouldn't go to such extreme lengths as he did. Many years ago, Marinette made a friend, one of her very best friends who she fell for. But she never told anyone who he was, where he came from or even the fact that she met someone. The reason behind this was the fact she witnessed his murder. That death, of all she witnessed, was the most heartbreaking. Even when all these years have passed, she never truly got over his death. His green eyes always lingered her mind.

The bluenette let out an anguished sigh, she was on the Eiffel Tower, admiring the city's skyline despite all its obvious flaws under close inspection. Though Marinette had drastically mentally changed, she would always put on the same mask, she would always portray herself as a regular school girl. This was the one time she felt a little peace in her chaotic excuse for a life. Her blue eyes stared off into the distance, focusing on nothing in particular when she heard footsteps coming from behind. In her peripheral vision, Marinette could see the figure of Gabriel Agreste slowly approaching. Not wanting anything to happen, she made her knowledge of her appearance known.

"I never expected to see you somewhere so public, Monsieur Agreste" Her voice remained neutral. Gabriel didn't flinch meaning that he had expected her to sense his arrival, it made the young girl slightly unnerved but she refused to show it.

"The Eiffel Tower holds the greatest inspiration, as a designer yourself I'm sure you are aware" Marinette was used to his cold voice by now, she kept her guard up reminding herself that this was Hawkmoth was standing a few feet away.

She hummed, putting the two miraculous users in a deathly silence, until she decided to break it. "You know, you could've just asked" The older man raised an eyebrow in confusion but Marinette never looked in his direction, "It would've saved a lot of bloodshed"

Gabriel managed to catch up with what she was saying. "Are you implying that I am Hawkmoth?" He didn't sound offended or defensive, merely curious.

"I'm not implying anything" She replied curtly, then turning to face him. "I am merely stating a fact"

The miraculous user turned away from her, focusing his gaze on the city's skyline once more. "What are you going to do with this knowledge?"

The question confused Marinette, surely he would've attacked her or try to get her to remain silent?

He must've noticed her confusion. "Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't say anything"

Marinette turned her full body towards the taller man, she was going to end Hawkmoth's reign as quickly as she could. "I can heal her"

"What?"

"I can heal her" The bluenette repeated. "Emilie"

Gabriel also turned to face her, his usual cold scowl was replaced with a staggered expression. "Y-you can? Even after all I've done as Hawkmoth?"

Her head twisted back to portrait that was Paris. "To end it all, yes I will"

"Then please, follow me and I promise I will give you my miraculous as well as Mayura's. Just, heal my wife please" His tone changed from intrigued to pleading, Marinette could see that he meant every word.

"Oh don't worry... I will"

~~~

"I did it!" Tim's voice echoed in the Batcave.

"Did what replacement?"

"I found Hawkmoth's identity!"

Around three months ago, Wonder Woman had noticed Green Lantern trying to delete a video. She stopped him before he successfully did the task and watched the video herself, calling a meeting to express her anger about the situation. Most were shaken since they had never seen the Amazonian this livid before. She briefly explained how her mother was once a miraculous user and how powerful these magical jewelry could be. Aqua Man also shared his concerns, revealing that the fall of Atlantis was due to the miraculous. They knew the logical decision was to work on this from outside of Paris, the villain preyed on negative emotions and they had been ignoring the Parisians' calls for help for four years. Their sudden appearance would definitely trigger the heroes. So in the last month, they had gathered files of nearly every person in Paris as well as all the necessary information about every akuma attack. It was tiring for the Bats but they trudged through it anyway.

Damian had taken a special interest in the spotted-heroine specifically, without the knowledge of any of his family members. She appeared similar to a female friend he had made quite some time ago, the one who had witnessed an assassination attempt on him. He saddened him to no end knowing that the friend he loved thought he was dead. The green-eyed boy became one hundred percent convinced that this hero was his friend.

One day, Dick had caught him in the Batcave observing a recently taken image of the Ladybug heroine. His older brother thought that Damian was crushing on the lady and began to tease him as others entered the cave.

"Tt, that's not true" the green-eyed boy retaliated.

"If you don't have a crush on Ladybug then why are you staring at an image of her?" Dick added more information necessary so that his younger brothers could join in on teasing his youngest brother.

The Robin vigilante sighed and brought everyone's attention to the screen. "See that?"

"All I see is this little lady Demon Spawn" Jason's smirk was quickly gone when he noticed Damian's serious expression.

"She's alone" he stated simply and before anyone could get a word in, her explained further. "There is usually a team with her"

Everyone seemed to lean closer to the screen.

"She's fighting alone. Her 'partner' doesn't participate in the battles anymore, he stays on the sidelines, observing" He let the others catch up to what he was saying. "The attacks have been lasting a lot longer than usual, Ladybug leads a super hero team correct? Then why is she fighting alone this time."

"They could have all been killed... We have to go to Paris to help the poor girl" Dick turned to Bruce. "Who knows how much longer she'll last alone fighting a psycho butterfly man!"

Bruce's fatherly instincts were screaming at him from merely looking at the photo. "I'll announce to the League that we'll be joining the fight in Paris"

~~~

Gabriel lead Marinette to his office, Nathalie wearily watching. Just as he was about to open the double doors, his assistant collapsed in uncontrollable coughing. Marinette was much faster than the older man so she got to the woman first. The bluenette carefully put Nathalie down on one of the chairs available while putting her hand on where she thought the assistant would where the peacock brooch. The blue-eyed girl could sense the broken miraculous' energy trapped in the woman so she did the only reasonable thing she could at that moment, she extracted the corrupted magic, healing Nathalie almost instantly. Marinette ignored Gabriel's relieved expression and gestured for him to lead her to Emilie.

"When this is over, I wish to have a restraining order against your son"

"May I ask why?"

"..."

"...I understand, I'll make sure to tell Nathalie"

The older man stopped before a painting of his wife, his fingers reached for the painted shapes and pressed on them, revealing an elevator to which he went down in. Following his motion, Marinette placed her hand on the painting and allowed herself to descend down the mansion. It lead her to a repository with a catwalk which lead to a circular platform covered in luscious greenery. In the middle on the platform was a class-covered cryogenic pod which the sleeping body of Emilie Agreste lay. The bluenette carefully made her way to the glass casket, placing her hand on the transparent material when she finally reached her destination. Focusing all her energy, a red light erupted from her finger tips and it soaked into Emilie's skin. Gabriel opened the pod, carefully watching his wife as Marinette took a step back. Suddenly her eyes fluttered open.

"G-Gabriel, what happened?"

The man didn't reply, he simply hugged the woman of his dreams before turning the the young girl.

"I... Thank you Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, I can give you the miraculous now if-"

"Ladybug will be at the Eiffel Tower soon, I suggest you give the miraculous to her then"

Gabriel nodded and thanked the girl once more as she left. Before she reached the lift that would lead her back up to Gabriel's office, Marinette turned to face the newly reunited couple.

"Enjoy the happiness in your life, Monsieur Agreste, you never know when it may end"

She then turned to leave, not wanting to here what her former idol had to say. When she reached the main floor of the Agreste Mansion, Marinette was greeted by Nathalie. The bluenette acknowledged the assistant with a nod, meaning that Emilie was awake. The assistant let out a sigh of relief and rushed to Adrien's room, not wanting to be around the blonde boy, Marinette promptly left. Once out of the premises of the mansion, she transformed and waited for Gabriel to return the miraculous. What she didn't realise was that the Justice League would also be coming to pay her a visit.

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the miraculous to be handed back to her but the bluenette was patient. She waited four years for this moment, but she had to share the moment alone. It was bittersweet. Soon enough Gabriel arivied, hastily giving Ladybug both the brooches with apologetic eyes and leaving without a word. The spotted heroine presumed that he wanted to get back to his wife and son, she couldn't blame him. Ladybug reached for her yo-yo teary-eyed, she was going to put both miraculous in her weapon before returning them in the miracle box but she stopped when she heard multiple figures approaching where she was standing.

~~~

Batman and his sons were the ones to go to Paris and alert Ladybug of their findings. The five men found themselves in front of the Eiffel Tower, Tim found out that was were the heroes would return to after their patrol.

"We must tell Ladybug right away" Batman pulled out his grappling hook and flung himself to one of the higher levels, all but Robin followed suit.

The vigilante had a feeling to remain on a lower level. He wanted to be reunited with his long lost friend but he couldn't find the words. Simply, he used his grappling hook to bring him onto one of the beams, low enough so he couldn't be seen but high enough to hear any conversation.

"Greetings, Ladybug" His father's voice echoed through the quiet building.

"Monsieur Batman? Wh-what are you doing here?" Her voice sounded almost exactly as he remembered, of course it sounded deeper and more matured but it had a more desolated edge to it.

~~~

"We apologize for not intervening earlier but we didn't know how well we needed to control our emotions" Red Hood watched as Nightwing brushed a hand through his hair nervously.

"But we can help now!" Red Robin's excited voice came out of nowhere, Ladybug looked at the vigilante in surprise. "We found out Hawkmoth's identity so we can finish this once and-"

Ladybug put a single hand up, a small smile on her face, silencing Red Robin's rambling. "That's very considerate of you, all of you" Her gaze landed on each vigilante one at a time. "But I... have things sorted" She pulled out two brooches from behind her back to show the men before putting the miraculous in her yo-yo. "I appreciate all you've done, truly I do. But can I ask one for one more favor?"

"Of course, what is it?" Nightwing asked, clearly wanting the spotted heroine to be gleeful once more.

"Could you... help the other heroes to help the Parisians to heal?"

"It's the least we can do" Batman replied. "Will you be there too?"

"I'm afraid not" Ladybug turned around and leaned forward on the banister. "You know how Hawkmoth prays on negative emotions, so I've had to deal with my emotions in an unhealthy manor but now... Hawkmoth is no more. I can be free"

"Wh-"

"Thank you, truly" Ladybug jumped up on to railing, facing the group of vigilantes. Her sad smile faded as she stared at the floor.

They didn't even get a chance to process what was happening before it did. A bright light surrounded the young hero and they were forced to close their eyes. As the light died down, Red Hood saw a small bluenette. She looked so weak, so pretty, so... fragile. It hurt the vigilante's heart seeing someone like this being the sole protector of Paris with no one by her side.

"Hey little lady-"

"I'm sorry Tikki"

The girl looked at all the vigilantes slowly, mouthing a 'thank you' before letting herself lean backwards.

Gravity took the Parisian heroine and she fell.

A small creature holding something shiny stared in horror as its owner fell."MARINETTE!" The small creature's anguished scream seemed to bring the vigilantes back to reality.

~~~

"MARINETTE!"

Robin's head shot up, that name was all too familiar. Suddenly, he took note of a figure falling fast from above, her raven hair flowing in the wind. Without giving a second thought, he bounded down the ledge he was on, landing on one of the platforms and had his arms out ready to catch the fallen angel. The bluenette was close enough for Robin to grab her and he pulled her in so that her feet landed on the platform, her body still looming over the edge of the building. His brother and father landed not far from him, bounding over to help the bluenette but Robin took no notice of their presence.

"Why didn't you just let me f...all" The girl's voice trailed off as her eyes widened in recognition, the air in her lungs escaped from her lips. "...d-Damian?"

The two friends took no notice at how the vigilantes behind Robin stiffened. Her eyes developed a watery sheen as the situation began to really hit her. Tears threatened to spill as her lip quivered. Robin pulled her away from the ledge and she jumped into his arms, she was heavily touch-starved. Much to his family's surprise, he didn't push her away. In fact, he hugged her back. They heard what she said next.

"I... I thought you were dead, Dami"

"...why? What made you do this, Malaki?"

They didn't hear what she said next as her mumbling was muffled in Robin's chest. Nightwing walked up to the two first, kneeling down to be eye level with the girl.

"Hey Sunshine... we don't know what you've been through but we're willing to help you though it okay?" The girl looked at his sincere gaze, her eyes were so round with innocence, Nightwing thought he would melt.

"I... thank you, I'm sorry for worrying you when I... jumped" No one failed to notice when Robin ran his fingers through the bluenette's hair.

"Don't apologize Little Lady" Red Hood walked over to where Nightwing was kneeling, sitting next to his older brother. "Hawkbitch forced you to bottle up your emotions, you were just strong for too long."

Marinette looked between the two men, a grateful smile on her face while she wiped the tears of pure happiness running down her cheeks. "Thank you, I- this... this is the nicest I've been treated recently"

"If you don't mind me asking," Batman walked over and Marinette felt slightly intimidated you his presence as well as his tone. The dark knight must have noticed this since he cleared his throat and began talking in a softer manner. "What happened to cause you to go to such extremes? You're obligated to not having to talk about it right away if the subject makes you uncomfortable"

"Well I guess I do have to talk about it eventually..."

Recognising the bluenette's discomfort, Red Robin stepped in. In his palm was the shaken kwami who flew straight for Marinette once the vigilante got close enough. "Since you know Robin's identity, and we already sorta know yours, it's only fair if we tell you who we are, right?" He looked at his two older brothers and then at his adoptive father. "My name's Tim Drake nice to meet you"

Marinette was about to take his offered hand when the vigilante she presumed was Red Hood took it instead, "Jason Todd, Robin's most charming and handsome brother" She giggled at Damian's obvious annoyance.

"Well I'm Richard Grayson, Robin's favourite brother, but you can call me Dick" The vigilante in the suit who comforted her first, introduced himself.

"It's nice to meet all of you"

Batman soon came over as well to aquatint with the young heroine, offering out his hand for a handshake. "Bruce Wayne"

She returned the hand shake and brightly smiled, it blinded nearly all those near. "Thank you, Mr Wayne. Wait..." she turned to face Damian, one of her eyebrows raised. "Wayne?"

"I may have failed to mention that part" To Robin's surprise, Marinette started giggling so he huffed in taken offense.

"Sorry it's just- a girl in my class as been boasting about dating you and about the Wayne Family seeing her as their 'honorary member'. I knew she was lying I just didn't know that I would bump into the people she was lying about"

Bruce hummed. "We'll have to do something about this girl you're talking about. In the meantime, why don't you come back to the hotel with us? You and Damian can catch up" The older man saw the hesitation in her eyes but he also saw the willingness that shine through the most. "If you're living in a bad environment then you do have to escape" His sons nodded along.

"I'll come, can I bring some overnight clothes? It's been a long day..."

"Of course, you go get your belongings and you can meet us at the Grand Paris Hotel"

"I... thank you again" She transformed and headed in the direction of her house, leaving Robin at the mercy of his brothers.

"You like her, Brat" Red Robin spoke up first.

Nightwing pretended to wipe his tears. "Baby Bird's all grown up now"

"That means you can't adopt the little Pixie, don't think I haven't seen the adoption papers"

~~~

When Marinette destransformed on her balcony rooftop, she quickly went inside, packed some clothes as well as some essentials. When she was satisfied with her belongings, she gave a macaron to Tikki before heading downstairs where she was met with two disappointed looking parents.

"Is something wrong?"

"We've decided," Tom began. "We're kicking you out for what you've done to your lovely classmate, Lila"

"We don't recognise the person you've become, Marinette. You are not the daughter we raised" Sabine added

"May I pack my things in the morning?" Marinette inquired, her eyes void of emotion. When her parents nodded, she left the bakery and down to the hotel where Damian was waiting in the lobby. As she approached, he took her bag and intertwined their hands together. She blushed at the contact but leaned into his embrace.

When she entered the hotel room she was greeted by the vigilantes who were now changed and unmasked. The bluenette was welcomed with open arms, she felt the warmth in her heart for the first time since Lila's Tyranny. She briefly explained Lila's lies, what she had done to Marinette and how the bluenette was able to protect Paris. She would've carried on longer if it weren't for the hotel phone ringing. It was the receptionist, saying that someone had asked to see Marinette. Confused, she went down with Damian, Jason followed closely behind since he had grown quite attached to the little fairy. Waiting at the front desk as a woman, Damian and Jason recognised her instantly as Mayura. Damian tried to step in front of his friend but she completely ignored their futile attempts to keep her in reach.

"Ah, Hello Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng"

"Hello Nathalie, we're you the one who asked for me?"

"Yes, I just need to clarify a few things"

"Go ahead"

"You're request for the restraining order has been fulfilled" the bluenette nodded, waiting for Gabriel's assistant to continue. "May I ask what did he do to make you request for it?"

The two notices how Marinette stiffened. She contemplated before sighing. "Attempted sexual assault. If you look at the camera footage outside of the Louvre from two days ago, seven pm onwards, you'll see your evidence." Marinette turned away from Nathalie and walked back to Damian who, once in range, pulled her in for a hug.

"I'll never let him near you again, Angel"

~~~

The next day, Bruce had shown up with Marinette at her parents' bakery. Upon hearing about the young bluenette being kicked out, he had asked for her permission for him to be her Guardian until she was old enough to live in her own. Marinette accepted his offer. When they had entered the building, her parents had greeted their customers kindly before recognising Marinette. Bruce turned to the young girl next to him and smiled.

"You go pack your things I'll deal with this" She smiled and bounded upstairs, leaving Bruce to talk with the bakery's owners.

"Hello Sir, how may we help you?" Sabine began, wanting to know who this man was.

"I've come to gain guardianship of your daughter, Marinette Dupain-Cheng"

"Why should we give you guardianship?" Tom asked.

"I'm sure you know the liability for child neglect, Mr Dupain" With his words, both adults seemed to turn white. "I will file the necessary and submit it with the court, I'm sure you'll be willing to give your approval"

Both Marinette and the mystery man left, true they were glad that their mistake of a daughter had gone but they wondered who she had gone with.

~~~

Later that afternoon was a charity event which the Waynes were supposed to attend as they were invited by the mayor himself, the plus side was that the Akuma class would also be attending and they had no clue the Wayne Family would be there.

"...And finally I'd like to thank the Wayne Family for joining us this evening" Mayor Bourgeois finished his speech and all heads turned to the table the Waynes and Marinette were sitting on. As his speech was over, a teenage girl with glass and a very pale brunette came over to the table.

"Hello Mr Wayne, My name's Alya and I'm your honorary daughter's best friend and I was hoping-"

"Marinette" Bruce began, cutting off the aspiring reporter. The Alya girl only then seemed to notice that the bluenette was sitting at the table. "Is this girl you're friend?"

The bluenette took one hard look at Alya before shaking her head, "No"

"Marislut what th-"

"It would be appreciated if you did not talk about my honorary daughter and future daughter-in-law on that manner" Both Damian and Marinette turned red, one much more than the other. "In fact we should be leaving" Bruce and the rest of the family got up. "Miss Rossi, I will not tolerate your lies. You will receive a lawsuit for defamation and slander. Have a good evening" They left, leaving a reporter, a liar and a class speechless.

When they reached the hotel room they finished packing up, they would be leaving that night. Marinette made a few phone calls, telling her friends that she would be moving to Gotham. They had their belongs taken to the limo downstairs and had a few snacks before making their way down. In the lobby were many different people around the bluenette's age, she recognised them as her classmates and continued walking beside Damian until Alex came over.

"Marinette... we're sorry. We understand that you probably won't forgive apps but we wrote you letters anyway" the skater girl gave Marinette a pile of enveloped letters, ones she put in her bag straight away.

"Thank you for your apologies but I don't think I can forgive you just yet, goodbye Alix" the bluenette got in the limo and let out a breath she knew she was holding.

Her eyes glanced out the tinted window, she smiled knowing that she was leaving Paris for a better life. A better life with a friends, a better life with a new family. A better life with Damian.

~Bonus~

The harsh blizzard outside was definitely being felt from inside the manor, leaving a cold and tired Marinette on the couch. Damian, noticing his girlfriend's state, went to grab a blanket to cover both Marinette and himself. She snuggled into the green-eyed boy, taking all the warmth she could get, and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Damian too felt drowsy so soon followed his girlfriend into dreamland.

Jason came in a few moments later to find the sleeping couple, he was then reminded by how tired he was so he went on the couch and leaned his back against his youngest brother, himself too falling victim to slumber.

The next person to walk in was Dick, he had just finished training so he was exhausted. But he couldn't help to coo when he came across the scene in front of him. The eldest son then got on the sofa and carefully leaned against Marinette, similar to what Jason had done with Damian. It didn't take long for him to join them in dozing off.

Tim arrived with a big cup of freshly made coffee, one which he was about to drink until he noticed his siblings all curled up on the couch sleeping. The co-CEO went back to the kitchen, left his cup of coffee then went to grab a blanket to join his family. Wrapping himself in a blanket burrito, Tim placed himself on the floor pressed up against sofa.

When Bruce returned home safely, he went to the main living room to see his children, and his future in-law who was basically his own by now, sleeping soundly with the TV still running. Reaching for the remote, he turned the television off and grabbed his phone to take a picture. He planned on printing it out and having it framed in his study. Bruce sat on one of the armchairs, taking a book to read. If there was peace in the house, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

#daminette #maribat #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #This is so bad I hate it and it started out good as well aaaaaaaa

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