#i wonder how long he stayed on the rooftop just going in circles and searching for his brother

[angryborzois]

I feel like auto-battle failing me is a sign to actually do my battles manually

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Earth42 Miles here on this blog is just.. AAA. I love him so much, and your writting has increased my obsession with him.!!

You know how your fic where reader is dead?? Well what if another portal opened to earth 42 where in earth 42 reader is dead. But reader is from another earth where reader is prowler.?? And miles is dead. I think it’d be so cool.! You can choose ending if you like you wonderful author :))

(this is so amazing and thank you for the compliment!)

United Even In Death

You had woken up that day like any other, but now, the day ended with you in some random rooftop, thrown into another universe and facing a ghost.

Not any ghost.

Miles.

And he stared just as back at you, both adorning the same Prowler gear you were ashamed and proud to wear.

You both has started and freaked, trying to get anything out but came to a conclusion.

You were dead here.

He was alive.

He was dead there.

You were alive.

But now you both stood alive and well, in front of a ghost of your past you thought to have lost.

Well, you did. But now a whole other version now stood in your path.

"So, you're not my Miles…"

"And you're not my (Name)."

"...you look just like him." You said, barely able to move but your hand somehow made its way to his cheek, hovering just above it.

You stopped for a moment, almost afraid to be in a dream and he would disappear at any moment.

Miles saw your hesitance, and after a moment of his own, took the chance and leaned his face to your palm.

You both were still, waiting for the time to wake up as you had time and time again when you had this dream.

But you didn't.

You stayed there. Hand on the cheek of the boy you promised to yourself to marry one day, who was taken from you just because of a stupid anomaly.

Miles' eyes searched your face for any blood, any tears and any fear in them like he has seen once before on the same day he lost his father.

He found none, nothing except the smile lines he caused and the love he always saw when he looked at you to find yourself already admiring from afar.

As the shock wore off from you both, coming to see that the ghost and flesh and blood of your dead lovers stood before you, tears began to form.

Your hand fell, but soon after you slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, putting your head to his chest to feel and hear the beating of his heart you were once forced to hear go silent.

Before long, the tears that formed started falling, the realization of Miles actually being alive and well and that you were in his arms once more.

Miles could say the same, arms stiff and by his side as he was almost afraid to touch you, feeling your head on his chest once more than you had done when sleeping over.

As he began to hear you cry, his arms finally found it in themselves to move.

They slowly circled your back, and feeling his strong arms around you and well, Miles tucked his face into your neck to breathe you in once more.

His own tears formed, but silent and well hidden as he cried, both of you mourning and both of you loving the feeling of being in the arms of someone you lost, and somehow found once more.

But it wasn't real.

You would need to leave soon enough.

But being with Miles was worth disappearing for.

Because you needed Miles, even if he wasn't your Miles.

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

@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @sylisan @onginlove @harleycao @kaitoliu

[purple-obsidian]

Wellll, since you said it was okay, allow me to analyze this fic like I'm in an English lit class.

First off, what I've been thinking about the longest is him tugging the blanket over her at the end. It's such a small gesture, but it's gonna mean so much when there's almost never any casual intimacy. I would be thinking so hard on what it means. He's offering just the slightest hint of comfort after what seems like a constant battlefield and why? He feels guilty? He wants to show her that he's there? Its the only thing he can offer her when he's so hurt himself? Those are the kinds of actions that would make you stay because he still has to love her. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself when you're alone on the couch.

Next, the scene set up to him cutting her cheek. Oof. I can only picture what he saw in himself in the mirror. I mean, doing the same thing your torturer did to you to your partner? Ouch. And that fact that she still has to try and comfort him and be strong when he's the only that literally hurt and scared her? Ugh. That was painful and she's trying so hard only to get beaten down emotionally every single time. No wonder she was dark circles cause I'm drained just thinking about it. But that would also make me feel guilty because he went through so much more.

And the fact that she had to learn how to react to him! She's only trying to do right by him and gave him space when he asked- aka leaving the apartment- and he hunted her down over it? Wild. But he probably thought she was leaving him. I'm thinking how panicked he was until he found her and then the anger set in once he saw her. I feel like he probably wouldn't have noticed she left very fast. I'm picturing she leaves the apartment very quietly to not disturb him.

On one hand I'm seeing a public scene, but I feel like he would just follow her until she was alone so there's no witnesses. Now that rooftop scene. That's where I feel like she would go to wait to go back to the apartment. Cause it's a comfort, so much so she actually uses it to dissociate. I'm not a writer so I really can't put it into words. The only problem with a confrontation on that rooftop would that any fight that would happen there would taint the memory. So maybe she goes somewhere else that used to be special?

Anyway, I really loved the fic and obviously I have lots of thought. I am still thinking about how he laughed at her in front of his men in the first part. So thank you so much for writing them!

[this is related to my ak jason x reader fic for those who may be confused]

it makes me so happy to hear your thoughts! i put a lot of thought into the little things like the blanket and other details to weave in symbolism and parallels that aren't all explicitly called out, so it makes me happy that they're noticed 💜

that mirror scene was a really intense moment for our poor jay, he had some realizations that he didn't process very well. and the reoccurring theme of 'oh he suffered more so i shouldn't complain or speak out about my suffering' is not doing reader ANY favors.

for that reference to him hunting her down, i initially pictured it to be something like reader gives him space after a fight where he tells her to leave, so she goes for a long walk or to a bodega to get food or whatever or just running a relatively normal errand, with the intent of coming back in a few hours. the only reason his men let her leave the building is because they heard him yelling and telling her to leave too. jason freaks out 20 minutes later and goes off on his men for letting her leave, maybe fires someone idk, and starts searching like reader is america's most wanted.

[i don't think he would go as far as to hurt or fight with his hired men for letting reader go, like he's emotionally unstable and very much not okay but he was still sharp enough to be the arkham knight and go through all that and plan shit out, he's still a fucking tactical genius in my opinion so i don't think he would be THAT unhinged, esp. around people who have shown him loyalty, yanno? but if reader ended up hurt or they actually got away and never came back, that would be another story, but until he knew for sure he would just wanna leave and find reader A-S-A-P like homeboy is DESPERATE to get his person back.]

i like your idea about the rooftop. like if reader needed to calm down first, that could definitely be one of their first choices. with the errand idea, i had a scene in mind where reader is carrying a bag of groceries or some library books or whatever item[s] from whatever errand[s], and rounds a corner to literally walk into the brick wall that is jason and drop their shit while he's still as a statue just fuming. or possibly, he walks up to reader while they're on the sidewalk talking to a random person about directions or the weather, and he's just a menace and yells at them to leave reader the fuck alone, threaten some violence, before dragging reader away by the wrist or even picking reader up and throwing them over his shoulder.

and the memory of him laughing at her in front of his men? i almost wrote that out as a mini-flashback in the first part, like how i did with the rooftop memory in part 2. maybe i'll have to do a little snippit or something to flesh that out some more for ya ;)

thanks for taking the time to share with me! i see your second ask, oh boy i have some thoughts 😈

xoxo sid

[luciferpanini]

hm hm hm writing list uuh yes it’s schrodinger’s swap!ruikasa.

For the sixth time that day, Rui catches sight of him. That same blonde head, same face, same yellow cardigan worn over his uniform with sleeves way too long to be comfortable for late spring. School has long ended and the sun is about to set, forcing him to squint else the boy would use his perfect camouflage to blend into the few last clinging fragments of light still illuminating Kamiyama High.

He seems to show up everywhere no matter what direction Rui looks at, like a little (he’s little alright) parasite that resides within his periphery. He looks to the left, there’s that boy. To the right, that boy again. Rui headed to the drama club for materials (a favour from Mafuyu-kun), and he was there, mindlessly organising and reorganising the props. Rui got called to the teacher’s office and there he was again, smoothing out some documents while chatting up a storm with his homeroom teacher out of all people. Rui almost bumped into him on the rooftop that afternoon, him who was just sitting there, back against the wall, chewing on the straw of a dried-up juice box. Like a pliant rock.

He made a beeline past that boy and he didn’t react.

Hell, even when he looks at Nene, there he is, looming over her while she holds back the urge to sock him in the face.

Rui’s latest search result is “Is it possible to accidentally stalk someone?” 

It startles him when the other moves, as if it’s just that unnatural. Anyone would be surprised when a figure in a painting suddenly turns their head and blinks, no? Terrified even. For Rui, it’s more intriguing than anything.

Scene: On the left side, approaches a girl with short brown hair, taking tired steps toward the school building. Someone from the night classes, maybe. Someone who definitely did not have enough sleep. On the right side, his observational target (This is not stalking, Rui simply people-watches. It’s so normal, absolutely normal. Rui is normal.) breaks into a wide grin and uses his whole arm to wave at her, his perceived energy level going from 4 to 11 in a split second. Rui fears he is going to break his arm at this rate.

Panning to the left side again, the girl’s face twists into an expression that is so Nene.

And of course, his vision parasite refuses to stay out of the shot for too long, skipping across the frames and running circles around the other like he’s a dog whose owner just got home.

Faintly, he hears.

“Enanaaan!!”

Enanan’s reaction is equally Nene-like.

They chat for a short while before parting ways. Enanan trudging her way to class, and him finally leaving the campus.

Rui figures if he runs, he may barely make it on time for the night shows.

He apologises to his imaginary Emu.

-

“I saw a dog.” He explains to her when they’re taking their usual break between shows.

“A dog?? Was it cute??” Emu gasps, bouncing up from her seat, so much so Mizuki has to physically hold her down and take the bottle of water away from her grasp. (“You’re going to choke like that.”)

“It was a dog.” He repeats the blatant lie.

“Mm?” Mafuyu hums, making it incredibly hard to tell whether she’s actually interested in the conversation. “You got distracted by a dog.”

“Then it must be a super duper fluffy wuffy amazing dog!” Emu cuts in almost immediately, shooting Mizuki a look she must have thought he wouldn’t notice.

“If it’s a cute dog then it can’t be helped.” Mizuki laughs nervously. “Though to interest our Rui, it must have been able to fly or shoot laser or something.”

“I can assure you it was a normal dog.”

“Oooh! What color was it???”  Emu just has to express how she’s absolutely enthralled by the topic of this made-up creature, shaking her hands up and down. Just how much energy can this small girl produce through vibrating alone, he wonders, a question that he tucks back to the metaphorical drawers of his mind.

Probably enough to run a car though.

“Yellow.”

“So a Golden Retriever.” The two pink-haired members of the cast freeze when Mafuyu speaks up again.

Rui only nods.

-

“Oh.” Is the only noise coming out of Nene’s mouth before her face falters. “That guy.”

“The usage of ‘That guy’ suggests a strained relationship, Nene-kun. Is he bothering you?”

He might be, out of all the times he’s seen ‘that guy’, two of those instances were of him harassing girls. 

“Whatever scheme you’re planning in your head right now, I’d rather do it myself.” Nene puts her hand on his shoulder, patting it in her typical ‘don’t do anything rash’ way. “But it’s fine, he’s just someone from the music circle.”

He runs the member list through his head. “K, you mean?”

“No, K is our composer. If it was him who invited me, I would have never joined in the first place. I didn’t even know he was there, he’s more like, what do you call it? A mascot?”

“Your—”

“Our Tenma Tsukasa, I guess.”

Rui blinks at the familiar name. “Like that Tenma-senpai?”

“Yeah.” His friend looks to the side. “That Tenma-senpai.”

-

>HE'S REAL?<

Nene reads his message, rubs her eyes, and reads his message again. There are 2, maybe 3 words in that sentence, and yet she struggles to comprehend it.

“Who?” She asks. “Rui?”

>YEAH, RUI?< 

If he was allowed to speak, she's pretty sure he would be way too loud for comfort again. Then it's a blessing he pissed off Enanan earlier, Nene thinks. Sorry Enanan, she mentally adds.

“Of course he's real-”

>HE GOES TO KAMIYAMA.<

“I've shown you pictures of him in uniform.”

>NO LIKE. HE'S REAL.<

“Tell me how on earth is there a chance my childhood friend Kamishiro Rui whom I live next to and have shown you multiple pictures of before, is not real?”

>IDK. HE'S. BREATHING?? IT'S WEIRD??<

“It would be weirder if he isn't.”

>.

kjefhsjkdhkjgh???<

[asstronauts]

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

rating: t word count: 2.4k pairing: the homoeroticism of 200 amplified, aka jemily summary: a post-200 rewrite, in which jj spends some time in emily's arms and in the hospital instead of in a bar right after being tortured.

read on ao3, if you'd prefer

tw mention of jj's canon abduction and torture

---

A hundred feet.

Strangely enough, it wasn't the closest she'd come to death in this line of work, but now it was all that separated her dangling feet from the ground below.

She felt nothing besides Emily's arms and her heart thudding in her chest. JJ risked a glance downwards, turning her head ever so slightly to look.

Michael Hastings' body fallen. Dead.

It was over.

"You're here. It's you," JJ managed between ragged breaths as she was pulled back from the edge of the rooftop and onto solid ground. Her hands were still clinging desperately to Emily's biceps, her only lifeline while the world spun around.

“Emily,” JJ murmured, though it came out sounding more like a question. She needed to be sure. After hours of torture at the hands of Tivon Askari, and after the intense pursuit of Michael Hastings onto the rooftop, her friend’s comforting presence seemed almost unbelievable.

Emily inhaled sharply and reached out to move JJ's hair back. The blonde flinched instinctively, then slowly relaxed into Emily's touch. It was nothing like Askari's rough hands. It was tender — a soft brush across her cheekbone to wipe away a tear she hadn't even realized was there. The gentle caress grounded her, letting her know she was here and that somehow, against all odds, she was still alive, safely kneeling with Emily on this concrete rooftop a hundred feet high.

JJ could hardly bring herself to look around. She didn’t recognize the building he’d taken her to. It was in D.C, that much she could be sure of, but the air felt different now that she was free from Askari’s grasp. Fresher somehow. Below her, the city lights blinked on, unaware of the terrifying ordeal that had just happened. And in front of her, Emily.

Emily's hand was warm. Or perhaps JJ was just freezing. There was a chill in her bones that had remained since she'd seen Askari's face, a cold she couldn’t quite escape.

"You're here," JJ repeated, her voice steadier but still quiet. She shivered against the concrete, her shallow breaths visible in the cold night air.

"So are you." Their eyes met, and JJ found Emily's filled with concern, with relief, with love. They carefully searched JJ's face to make sure she was okay.

Emily's gaze landed on the blonde's unbuttoned shirt, and she furrowed her brow, the hard lines in her face deliberating a question she didn't want to ask.

JJ shook her head and drew back slightly. He didn't, she wanted to say.

He didn't, but she could still feel his hands on her, all over her. He didn't, but she could still hear his voice saying, "Maybe I can make you one. Another one." He didn't, but...

"It's okay," Emily murmured in a soothing voice. She noted the look on JJ’s face, but didn’t press further. “You’re okay now. You’re safe.” Her heart broke at the way the woman clenched her jaw and avoided Emily’s fixed stare.

JJ gave a stiff nod of permission as Emily reached out, gently beginning to button the shirt back up. JJ licked her lips and forced her fingers to relax their grip as she tried to speak again — to say something, anything.

"Cruz...is he-"

"He'll be fine."

"And everyone else?"

"Everyone's okay." Emily looked up as she finished with the shirt. “They’re waiting downstairs with the ambulances whenever you’re ready.”

“How did you find me?”

“We...we looked into everything from when you were in Afghanistan. Your backstop.” Emily tried to meet JJ’s eyes, but they were staring guiltily at the ground. “No more secrets please, JJ.”

“No more secrets,” she echoed back. “Only the truth from now on.”

JJ opened her mouth as if to say more, then shook her head and furrowed her brow.

Emily knew there were questions she was avoiding, trying to ask about the team to dismiss any concerns over her own wellbeing. Denial was ingrained in her nature — a habit she had perfected so well, she sometimes managed to fool herself.

The younger agent stood unsteadily and pretended to inspect her top as she took a moment to collect herself. "We should head down then," she mumbled, crossing her arms as another shiver ran up her body.

"You're allowed to take a moment, JJ," Emily said softly and rose to stand in front of her. "Take your time."

JJ bit her lip and shook her head ever so slightly. If she took even a breath to process all that had happened in the last 24 hours, the inevitable breakdown would come rushing over her, and she feared she'd never be able to stop.

"You're okay now," Emily said again, reaching her arms out and allowing JJ to collapse into them. The blonde buried her face in the crook of Emily's neck as gentle but strong arms wrapped around her body.

From the moment Hotch had called her about the news of JJ's disappearance, Emily's heart had been gripped by an intense fear over the other woman's safety. The thought of JJ in danger, of JJ hurt, of JJ on the brink of death had been too overwhelming to bear.

The panic had fueled her to find everything she could on Tivon Askari, to do everything she could to fight for JJ’s life. But the anxiety that had built up during Emily's flight over was only just now beginning to subside, as she reassured herself of JJ's safety.

"You're okay, you're okay," Emily whispered as she rubbed comforting circles on JJ's back.

She's okay.

---

45...46...47...48...

Emily concentrated hard on counting the hospital floor tiles, whatever she could to keep from thinking of her friend having just been tortured. She’d read the files on Askari, and she knew exactly what JJ had gone through. The drugs, the physical abuse, the waterboarding, the electrocution. It made her burn with uncharacteristic anger, made her wish this man had received a fate worse than death for hurting JJ. And from the look she’d seen on JJ’s face, there was far more to the story than just what Emily had read.

The situation had left the rest of the team a headache-inducing amount of paperwork, but Hotch had insisted that someone be present when JJ woke up. All eyes had landed on Emily, with Penelope demanding she be called immediately after, no matter the time of night.

It was late now, but Emily still felt restless. She picked furiously at her nails, counting and recounting the tiles over and over again until a voice broke her thoughts.

"Emily? She wants to see you."

Emily looked up and mouthed a silent thank you to the doctor, not quite trusting herself to speak aloud.

A wave of relief washed over her as she walked into the hospital room, and blue eyes turned to meet her.

"You're here."

Emily managed a sort of strangled sound in reply, a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

"I'm still here," she breathed, reaching out her hand to grasp JJ's. It was icy cold, but just warm enough to reassure Emily that JJ was alive.

"I wasn't sure...I've been seeing things," JJ mumbled. "I saw you, or I thought I did. Before I saw you, I mean."

JJ shook her head, trying to clear the cloud from her incoherent thoughts as Emily creased her eyebrows in confusion.

She exhaled and tried again. "It doesn't matter. But you...you really came all the way here for me."

"You'd do the same for me," Emily replied. "Hell, you already did the same for me."

Their eyes met.

Paris.

Emily remembered everything — the long nights that never seemed to end, the two of them exploring every street and shop, the night JJ had grabbed her hand and pulled her into an alleyway, and they'd stood unbelievably close, eyes shining in the moonlight with exhilaration...

She wondered if JJ remembered everything too.

"How long do you have here?" JJ asked.

Emily bit her lip. "A few hours." Not long enough.

"Do you have to go?" came JJ’s quiet voice. Emily had asked the same question that night in Paris.

They’d let the question hang unanswered then too, both too afraid to admit that they were running, not just leaving. Because staying would mean confronting the intensity of their feelings for one another, and that was somehow more terrifying than anything they’d ever faced in the field.

Besides, Emily's expression said more than her words could.

“How are you feeling?” Emily asked instead of answering.

“It hurts,” JJ said simply.

Emily’s grip around her hand tightened protectively. "I know," she whispered.

JJ began to trace delicate circles along Emily's knuckles with her thumb, eyes slightly unfocused. She could feel her mind already struggling, tendrils of flashbacks lurking beneath the surface. The pain in her side seemed to intensify, and her breath caught slightly.

"Hastings and Askari are dead." Her voice came out raw and louder than intended, as though she was still convincing herself of the fact.

JJ took a shuddering breath and shivered as a chill went up her spine.

Cold. Why was the room so cold?

She felt, rather than saw, everything around her shift as a sudden sense of dread overwhelmed her in the haze. Dark. Cold. Alone.

Alone, except for him. The shadow of Tivon Askari loomed in front of her, and a bolt of pain and panic wracked her body.

“Come back to me, JJ.”

She blinked.

“I wasn’t..I-It wasn’t a full flashback or anything,” JJ stuttered. “I’m fine.”

“It’s okay, just breathe.”

JJ sat for a moment until the pounding in her chest subsided, painfully aware of the heart monitor’s rapid beeping. She focused her attention on Emily’s hand in hers.

“I’m fine,” JJ repeated quietly.

"I know it doesn't feel like it yet," Emily replied. "It takes time, but I promise one day, you’ll be okay. You’ll feel safe again."

Emily moved her free hand to touch JJ’s shoulder, capturing her full attention so that the blonde could read the sincerity in her eyes.

“What do I do till then?”

"You could get a tattoo. We could match," Emily said lightly.

"Blackbird," JJ mused with a tired smile.

She remembered the day that Emily had shown her the tattoo, how she had stared in amazement at the beautiful ink that somehow both covered and showed off Emily's scars from her encounter with Doyle. Even then, she had been slightly wary, but Emily had taken her hand and guided her fingers to graze the tattoo, showing her that scars weren’t something to be afraid of.

The bruises and lacerations would fade. The electrical burns would leave a mark. JJ could feel their sting now, marring her skin with ugly scars. Perhaps she could get a tattoo to cover them up, but there was only so much she could hide. Beneath it all, there’d still be a heavy burden, an invisible wound she’d have to carry day to day, case to case, for the rest of her life.

They sat, hand in hand again now, letting the presence of each other be enough. JJ's thumb was still tracing its way across the familiar landscape of Emily's hand, one that the blonde had long since memorized. In those moments, with Emily holding her hand, it felt like everything was okay. Yet there was a feeling of horrid anticipation, like the teetering at the top of a rollercoaster, where the burning in her stomach told her that the moment Emily let go and left for London, time would inevitably start again, and everything would fall quickly and suddenly, collapsing into a wild frenzy despite Emily’s words of comfort.

“I don’t want you to go. I need you here,” JJ murmured.

She wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion or the medication talking, but she hadn’t quite realized the truth behind the statement until she’d said it aloud. JJ tried it again, her voice barely a whisper. “I need you.”

The admission hung in the air unanswered for a moment, and JJ’s mind raced, wondering if she’d made a mistake.

Emily didn’t speak, staring hard at the hospital blankets as if they would tell her the meaning behind what JJ had said. Part of her wanted to scream with joy at the idea that JJ wanted her near. But the other part of her shrunk back in fear, wanting to flee across an entire ocean once again to run from her emotions. She was terrified of what she felt towards JJ — an affection more intense and overwhelming than anything she’d ever experienced before. Without it, she’d be lost. She couldn’t risk that; it was too fragile to be tampered with, too precious to even be acknowledged.

“I saw you,” JJ began rambling, unable to bear the silence. “When they were trying to get my codes, I thought I saw you. I guess my mind just needed something or someone to hold on to. You should’ve been a million miles away, but some part of me knew that you’d come. That I’d be okay because you were coming.”

“JJ-“

“I knew it’d be you. It’s always going to be you.”

“I can’t...” Emily began, but the fear choked her and kept her from finishing her sentence.

“I know you have to go.” JJ’s grip tightened as her voice broke. “Will you stay until I fall asleep? Say goodbye now so I don’t have to watch you leave.”

A lump rose in Emily’s throat. Tell me to stay again. Tell me to stay for you, and I’ll leave it all, she wanted to say. But her cowardice won in the end.

Instead, Emily nodded and sat next to the bed as JJ closed her eyes.

---

JJ awoke to an empty hospital room. The pain in her side flared, and tears sprung to her eyes as everything she had experienced hit her full force.

The fluorescent lights blinked back at her from above, and the only noises she could hear were the gentle beeping of a heart monitor and her own shallow breathing.

One hand lay across her torso, the other gripped the hospital bed sheets as though she’d been holding onto something, to someone. She could've sworn...

She’s not here.

No, Emily was in London, thousands of miles away. There was no way, right?

She wouldn’t have come and then left her, not again. JJ pulled her hand in and held it to her chest, as she bit back a cry.

It must have been another hallucination. It had to be.

Any other way would hurt too much.

[iridescent-petrichor]

as fear strikes his heart

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: there’s a fight scene but nothing graphic

Words: 1.8K

A/N: reader has plant mutation powers in this! Also this isn’t proofread so I apologize for any errors in my writing!

It was supposed to be a simple mission. In and out, ending the night cuddling your boyfriend until you fell asleep.

Charles said it was only a couple of rogue mutants, but a telepath in their group must’ve hidden the others because it ended in an ambush.

Charles split you up in an attempt to divide and conquer, but it didn’t seem like any of you were doing too well. You couldn’t even see where Peter ran off too, which made you uneasy. The mutant you were up against had super strength, and it seemed like every time you brought vines up to entrap him, he ripped them apart like paper. You stood on a rooftop, a large array of plants circling up the side of the building serving as your stairway, the sinking feeling of defeat crawling into your mind. It seemed like this mutant could rip apart anything you threw at him. When you found yourself at the edge of the rooftop, you scanned the area for help. No one was close enough to you for you to call out to them, so you leapt backward onto the stairwell you built, sprinting down to the ground. The mutant followed you, the plants reaching up and attempting to hold him to the stairs slowing him down for only a couple of moments.

He continues barreling down the steps towards you, slamming you into a pillar behind you. You swore you saw stars for a moment, taking a dazed second to try to get your balance back while you tried to ignore the newfound pounding in your head.

Fuck, that hurt.

A sound off to the side of you distracts you, turning to see Peter faced completely away from you, dealing with a mutant of his own. You watched for a moment as the mutant stretched an arm towards Peter, only for him to appear leaning out of the doorway to an old warehouse. It clicked in your head that Peter was getting them into a smaller space so they wouldn’t be able to use their stretchy powers to the fullest. Your attention quickly snapped back to the mutant in front of you, who was reeling back to send a punch your way. You dropped to the ground, narrowly dodging it as pieces of the pillar crumbled onto you.

The mutant turns away from you, stalking towards the warehouse Peter was now inside. You barely had the chance to get back up before he was smashing through supports for the building, jumping back before the section nearest to him collapsed. Dust quickly blew out around the building, harshly invading your lungs. You coughed, covering your mouth with your hand as you tried to search through the rubble for your boyfriend.

You can barely make out Peter’s figure under the dust and debris, but you see him moving just enough for you to know he’s alive, and that’s all you need. Focusing back on the mutant, you raised vines from all angles and circled them around his limbs. When he started struggling under the greenery you almost thought you had him. That is, until he let out a massive roar, breaking through your vines again. Jesus, how much can this guy take?

He turned away from you, fishing through the rubble before he found an adequately sized steel beam, and lifted it with ease.

Oh shit.

Your eyes widened, the pillar behind you preventing you from backing up. He then threw it in your direction with a force that shouldn’t have been surprised by considering the mutant’s super strength. You flinch back, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepared for impact.

But the impact never comes.

When you open your eyes, the beam is floating a couple of feet in front of you for a moment, before changing direction entirely, flying back to the mutant and slamming his head into a wall. Finally, he drops. You can still see him breathing, which comforts you to some level, but you don’t want to be anywhere near him when he wakes up. You’ll leave that for Charles to deal with.

A faint groan from the rubble makes you snap to attention, rushing to Peter’s side as fast as you can. He’d managed to crawl out of what’s left of the building as best he could, but his legs were definitely stuck under the heavy rubble. With a mix of pure adrenaline and your power’s assistance, you manage to claw him out of the wreckage.

“Are you okay?” You ask once he was finally free, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m fine, I’m okay.” He assured, burying his face into your neck. You sit there for a moment, just glad your boyfriend was okay – relatively.

When you finally pull away, you glance at the beam that now lay on the ground beside the mutant. Did Charles manage to get Erik here for the fight?

You shake the thoughts away, pulling your focus back to the boy on the ground in front of you. “Can you stand?”

He nodded, letting you help him up. Once he put pressure on his feet, however, he dropped back to the ground. You followed him, gently helping him sit down on the rubble.

“Shit.” He muttered, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.

You were vaguely aware of a blast from Scott hitting a wall near you as you pulled Peter close to you. “I have to move you out of the way of the fight.” You whispered, trying to keep your voice calm and soothing despite how much it always scares you to see Peter hurt.

You get him off to the side before he lightly kisses your cheek and tells u to kick some ass.

At the end of the fight, you’re climbing into the jet, Peter leaning on you heavily.

“It’s always the fucking legs.” He mutters bitterly, hissing in pain as you help him sit down.

You laugh lightly, collapsing into the seat next to him. His hand finds yours, as it always does at the end of a long fight. Suddenly, you perked up when you remembered something.

“Professor!” He paused his conversation with Jean, looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Was Erik here earlier?”

You felt Peter stiffen beside you, chalking it up to him not wanting to see his father unexpectedly. However, Charles frowned, shaking his head.

“Why do you ask?”

“I just-” You hesitated, casting a glance around the plane of people now staring at you. “Nevermind.” Sinking further into your seat as you thought about the fight. Who else could’ve done that? Maybe Jean stopped it, I’ll have to ask her about it later.

Charles went back to his previous conversation, the quiet chatter around you building up again. It took a second for you to realize Peter was talking, too, before falling into an easy conversation with him.

 You didn’t get to see Peter much once all of you got back since Hank took him to get his injuries checked out, and yours weren’t bad enough to warrant a stay in the medbay.

Staying in your room waiting around for Peter got tiring very quickly, and soon enough, you found yourself drifting off to sleep, your bed becoming more comfortable by the second. A nice long nap was just what you needed after a mission.

 A sharp knock startled you out of your slumber, head snapping up from your pillow before realizing what was going on.

You groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and trudging towards your bedroom door, and swinging it open. As you expected, Peter stood there, once again wearing the crutches he’s needed so many times.

“You know, at some point you might as well engrave your name on those.” You joked, smile quickly fading when he didn’t react.

“Can we talk?”

Oh, fuck.

“Y-yeah, for sure.” You moved to let him walk inside, shutting the door gently and watching him make his way onto your bed.

“So…” He started, staring at the ground. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat as you watch his every move, still standing by the door. He looks at you for a moment, doing a double-take before his brows furrowed. “Wait, Y/N, I’m not breaking up with you.”

You blink for a moment, taking the information in before nodding and crossing your room to sit next to him on the bed.

“I just…” He still doesn’t look at you, choosing to inspect the ceiling instead. It was really starting to worry you, Peter very rarely holds back his thoughts like this. “I think I can control metal.”

“What?” The word slips out before you can even register it, giving him an incredulous look.

“I didn’t- I didn’t know until today when I saw that fucking mutant throw something at you. He would’ve killed you, you know. I almost lost you.”

So it was Peter.

“You saved me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a faint smile pulling at your lips. You reached up, putting a hand on his cheek. It seemed to snap him out of his thoughts, making him look at you.

“What if I can’t control them? What if- what if I become like him?” You could see the tears forming in his eyes as he spoke, tugging at your heartstrings.

“You won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” His voice cracked and he pulled away slightly, angrily swiping at the tears that had yet to fall.

“Because I know you. You’re wonderful and kind, and one of the best people I’ve ever met. You always put others before yourself, and while it does frustrate me cause you need to take care of yourself, it shows how sweet of a person you are.” By the time you finish talking, the tears have slipped from Peter’s eyes and were streaming down his face.

He pulls you in for a tight hug, nuzzling his face into your neck. You couldn’t help but smile, wrapping your arms around him in return.

“Wait,” Abruptly, you pulled away, keeping your hands on his shoulders with furrowed brows. “If you could control metal, why didn’t you stop the building from crushing your legs?”

He hesitated, staring at you for a long moment before speaking. “I guess the thought of me getting hurt wasn’t as scary as the thought of losing you.”

You stared at the boy, dumbfounded and at a loss for words.

“I’m kinda in love with you.” He continued, still staring at you.

“Peter,” You breathed out, gently bringing a hand up to his cheek. “I’m so in love with you.”

He broke out into a wide grin, hugging you with such force that you fell backward on the bed, peppering your face with kisses.

Even injured after a long, exhausting fight, at least you still had him. Him and his new powers.

[originalhybridloverfics]

When We Collide - A Secret Love

Summary: Esra and Ozan have secretly gotten back together and are sneaking around to keep their love a secret.

A/N: Over the last week, my uncle passed away. And then I found out my cousin who came down for the funeral passed away. My uncle was in his sixties but my cousin was only 34, he was perfectly healthy. My family is having a hard time with it all. I will be taking time away to be with them. I won't be able to devote my time and headspace to write for a bit and I don't want my writing to suffer because of it. Never take family for granted, death happens unexpectedly. For now, I will be helping my cousin's wife in her time of need, my cousin had four young children and she could use the help during this difficult time. This will be the last update until I am ready to get back to writing until then I will be on hiatus.

This chapter has Smut. If that's not something you want to read I advise you to skip it.

I am behind on the show, so if this doesn't match up with canon consider it a canon divergence. This was a requested prompt.

Esra looked up as a figure appeared in the doorway in the reflection of the mirror as she applied her makeup.

She smiled at Ozan. “I was getting ready to head into the office. I made breakfast. It’s on the table.”

Ozan walked up and wrap his arms around her, kissing her neck. “Then stay and eat breakfast with me. I can drive us to work.”

“No, it’s important we keep our relationship secret.” Esra turned in his arm, sweeping a hand through bed hair.

Ozan leaned into her touch. “I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to be able to shout about you from the rooftops.”

“You still can, just not about how much you love me,” Esra pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Ozan cupped her face and captured her mouth in a deep kiss. “I’ll have to settle for showing you then,” he murmured when he pulled away, his thumb swiping across her bottom lip.

A spark of desire shot straight to her core and she cursed that they had to go into work, she would much rather enjoy having him worship every inch of her body as his actions and words promised.

“It will have to wait,” she gave him a push, “go eat your breakfast, I have to go,” she slipped past him, walking into the living room.

She grabbed her jacket, slipping it on, pairing it with the red sundress she wore, grabbing her phone she slipped it into her bag.

Her hand reached for the doorknob just as Ozan’s hand circled her waist, spinning her back around into his chest, his mouth captured hers in a heated kiss that left her wanting more.

Esra smiled giving him another quick peck, ignoring the desire for more. “I’ll see you at the office.”

Ozan reluctantly let her go. He waited till the door shut behind her, before turning back to go take a shower.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Ozan looked at Esra across the table. There was a meeting on a new project and Esra along with the other interns and assistants were taking notes about everything that needed to be done.

Ozan was finding it hard to concentrate, he had to keep forcing himself to look away. Certain he was going to get caught staring at Esra like a lovesick fool.

Esra loved that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Since they got back together it felt like they were in the honeymoon phase and she was enjoying every second of it. Not to mention there was something sexy about keeping their love a secret and sneaking around the company. The thrill of getting caught just made it that much more enjoyable.

Ozan picked up his phone and moved his hand beneath the table and discreetly sent out a text.

Esra jumped in surprise when her phone chimed and laughed it off, reaching for her phone she saw the text notification. She looked up and met Ozan’s heated gaze.

She looked back down and opened the text.

Meet me in my office, ten minutes after the meeting. You will be occupied for the next hour.

Esra bit her lip, wondering just what he was planning. They were at work so surely he wasn’t implying something salacious. And what could possibly take an hour? Occupied how? Was she running errands for him, taking notes?

When the meeting finally came to an end Esra was relieved, the curiosity of what Ozan wanted was driving her crazy.

The interns filed out first and she couldn’t help but trail her hand across his shoulder as she passed. She chances a look back at him when she passed through the door to find him watching her.

Ozan waited till everyone filed out before standing and heading for his office.

He took off his jacket tossing it over his chair and unbuttoned the few buttons of his shirt. His skin was hot to the touch, desire flared through him. It had been impossible to concentrate during the meeting with Esra across from him. All he could think about was her lips parted in pleasure as he spread her open with his cock, feel her breast in the palm of his hand, hear her begging for him.

There was something so fucking hot about Esra, who begged for nothing, beg for him. He needed it like, he needed air, knowing she needed him was a feeling he would never get enough of.

He settled down in his chair, fearing he was going to pace a hole in the floor out of sheer impatience.

When it passed the fifteen-minute mark, he was moments away from calling her when there was a knock at his door, he stood from his chair just as Esra stepped inside.

“You’re late.” He strode up to her, trapping her against the closed door.

“By five minutes,” Esra protested, hands coming up to grip his arms as he caged her in, heat radiating off him.

“Five minutes was too long,” he placed his hand over her collarbone. “I was second’s away from finding you and bringing you here myself.”

“Everyone would know about us,” Esra pointed out, as his hand skimmed up her throat to cup her cheek, his hand hot upon her skin, warming her from the inside out.

“I can’t bring myself to care right now,” His mouth crashed down onto hers, hot and full of passion stealing the breath from her.

Esra surrendered to the lust coursing through her body, lips parting to allow his tongue to slide against hers.

His free hand moved down her body, gripping her thigh, bunching up the fabric of her dress, he pressed his body against her, and Esra jolted at the feel of him, hard, straining through his slacks pressed against her.

Esra ripped her mouth from his and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did you invite me here to have sex in your office?”

“I wanted you to come here because I can’t focus on anything but you. How can anyone expect me to be able to work with you across from me?” His thumb brushed her bottom lip. “All I can think about is the fill of your lips, your scent, the feel of your soft skin, your perfect curves,” his voice lowered, eyes dark with desire. “All I can imagine is pleasure in your eyes, moans escaping your parted lips as I move inside you, your legs tight around me, squeezing, your voice hoarse from screaming my name.”

“Ozan,” She felt choked, her core throbbing with need with every word he spoke.

When did he get so fucking good with words?

“We can’t.” she protested with a shake of her head.

“We can,” Ozan slipped his hand beneath her dress and Esra gasped as his palm pressed against her. “The doors locked.”

Esra knew she should protest, stop him but god she couldn’t, she longed for his touch. Instead, she tangled her hand into the back of his hair and pulled him down to kiss him deeply.

Ozan smirked and slipped his hand beneath her dress rubbing his thumb against her clit oVer the fabric of her underwear, Esra moan into his mouth, her hips moving searching for more.

The hand cupping her jaw traveled down to her breast holding it in his palm, squeezing.

A knock sounded on the door, followed by the doorknob jiggling. “Ozan?” Cagla’s voice called out.

Esra froze staring up at him, caught. “What do we do?” she mouthed.

Ozan pressed his finger against his lips asking her to be quiet, he leaned down brushing his mouth against her ear. “Go sit down and look like you’re taking notes.”

Esra quickly brushed past him, her skin heated, and took a seat, she ran a hand through her hair and grabbed the notepad from the table and a pen.

“Ozan? Are you in there?” Cagla called again, the door pulled with more force as she obviously tried harder to open it.

Ozan quickly removed his jacket and tossed it onto his chair, he walked to the door and turned the lock and swung it open, and put on his smile. “Sorry about that, Cagla. The door has been jamming since yesterday.” he looked back at Esra. “Be sure to have someone look at it, will you?”

“Of course, Ozan Bey,” Esra answered, relieved that Cagla seemed to be buying his lie if the look on her face was anything to go by. It was that or she really was just blinded by her attraction for Ozan.

Not that Esra could blame her. She felt the needed to fan herself but it would be too obvious.

“Write it down,” Ozan ordered, nodding to her paper and pen. “That’s why you’re here.”

Esra felt a wave of annoyance at his tone but pushed it down, knowing he was only trying to keep their secret from getting out. She made a show of writing it down.

Cagla stepped into the office, frowning at Esra. “Esra, are you feeling okay?”

Esra’s head shot up. “Yes, why?”

“You’re just looking a little flushed,” Cagla observed. “Perhaps you’re starting to come down with something.”

“I feel fine,” Esra assured her.

“Okay, but if that changes, it’s okay to leave early,” Cagla responded before focusing back on Ozan. “I wanted to remind you about that interview in an hour with the magazine for expanding companies. If everything goes well you will be headlining it. This can be a huge step forward for us.”

“Don’t worry,” Ozan assured her, gently moving back to the door. “I will be nothing but brilliant.”

“Ozan, do you want to grab lunch?” Cagla asked as she stepped just out of his office.

“I have plans, unfortunately. Another time, maybe?” she asked.

“Of course,” he waited till she walked away before shutting the door and locking it.

Esra stood and watched him round his desk. “You have plans for lunch? Why didn’t you tell me? I was planning on making us something.”

“You won’t be making us anything.” he grabbed his laptop and tossed it into his chair. “You will be too occupied.”

“Occupied?” Esra repeated confused. “With what?”

Ozan wrapped his arm around her and picked her up, depositing her on his desk, he pulled her to the edge and captured her mouth in a heated kiss.

Esra fisted her hands in his shirt, surrendering to his lips dominating hers, his hand slid down her body, slipping beneath her dress and with one sharp tug he had torn her panties.

She gasped, white-hot lust flowing through her, her core throbbed almost painfully.

Her mouth fell open as his fingers found her wetness, his thumb rubbing her clit.

The phone started ringing and her eyes widened. She expected him to stop what he was doing but he didn’t.

Ozan slipped a Bluetooth device into his ear, connecting it before answering the call.

“Ozan!” Esra exclaimed.

Ozan put a finger to his lips, telling her to be silent, and then spoke into the Bluetooth but his words were drowned out as he sunk a finger inside her.

Esra’s mouth fell open from the sudden intrusion, a loud gasp filling the air. She couldn’t believe what he was doing to her when he was clearly in the middle of his conference call.

Had he lost his mind?!

As he slid a second finger deep inside her she was sure that he definitely lost his mind.

Her mouth open on a silent cry and she stared at him wide-eyed, her skin flushed and breaths coming in quick pants.

Ozan smirked down at her, never once did he stop speaking into the phone, his voice clear and focused. As precise as his thrusting fingers inside of her.

Her moans started out small and breathless as his fingers thrust shallowly but then he started moving them faster and deeper. She couldn’t stop the cry that tore from her mouth when he inserted a third finger deep inside her.

Ozan moved between her legs opening her up wider and found her breast, squeezing.

“Sorry about that, my assistant has the terrible habit of tripping. She’s fine.” Ozan spoke into the Bluetooth.

Esra’s face flushed in embarrassment, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her sounds of pleasure.

Esra felt her pleasure rise higher and higher, her hips lifting to meet his thrust, the coil inside her tightened further and further.

She was so close to the edge she could taste it, when suddenly he ended his call and tossed the BlueTooth away, and removed his fingers from her sex.

Esra let out a whimper, eyes shining in frustration. “Ozan!”

“Shh,” he grasps her by the hips and brought her to the edge of the desk, he nudges her legs open wider, stepping between them as he gathered her in his arms.

Esra surrendered to his kiss and grabbed onto him, needing something to hold onto as the desperation for more rage through her body.

Ozan slid the zipper of her dress down then pushed the straps down her arm, his hand found her bra-covered breast and she jolted feeling his hand reach inside the cup, rubbing her nipple between his finger and thumb.

His other hand unclasped her bra and pushed the straps down her arms until they dangled at her elbows, freeing her breast.

When he pulled his mouth from hers it was to trail his lips over the shell of her ear, his hot breath coasting against her neck.

She shivered, goosebumps rising on her heated flesh.

“As I was saying earlier you are going to be occupied for lunch,”

His words fanned across her skin and she was confused. “Lunch?” she repeated.

Ozan chuckled. “Have you forgotten our discussion of lunch plans?”

Esra flushed in embarrassment because yes she had but can anyone really blame her? how could anyone focus when he was doing the things he was to her body?

“What will have me occupied during lunch? It can’t be this.” Esra panted, her breaths coming quickly. “I mean, if we’re doing this now, we wouldn’t for lunch.”

“We will be doing exactly this,” Ozan whispered, as he used one hand to unfastened his pants pulling the zipper down. “Except, you won’t have to be quiet. When we do this again, I want to hear every sound you make, every cry, moan, and breath.” He pushed his pants and boxers down, taking a hold of his cock he aligned it with her soaking entrance. “I want to hear you scream my name,”

Esra shifted her hips feeling the head of his cock. “Ozan, please.”

Ozan smirked. “For now, you must be quiet. Others can’t know what we’re doing. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes. Yes, please just get inside me already.” Esra all but snapped the desperation to feel him filling her overcoming all rationality.

Ozan locked eyes with her and surged forward, his cock, pushing inside. Esra’s mouth fell open on a cry, Ozan quickly captured her mouth, swallowing her sounds.

He didn’t give her time to adjust as he started a frenzied pace that had her clawing at his back, arching her body up, her hips moving against his.

With every thrust he sunk deeper and deeper inside her, she squeezed around him tightly like a vice.

Ozan grunted as he fucked into her, one hand on her breast, rubbing her nipple between his fingers his other hand reached between them to rub at her clit, never once ceasing the movement of his hips.

Esra felt every slide of him inside of her perfectly, combined with his hand on her breast and rubbing her, the orgasm she chased earlier came back and hit her with an intensity that had her seeing spots behind her closed lids.

She fell over the edge as his cock rubbed against the spot inside her that had her withering in pleasure.

A scream would have torn from her throat if Ozan hadn’t been sucking on her tongue.

Ozan groaned as she convulsed around him, he pulled his mouth from hers and stared down at her as she came around him.

Esra bit down on her lip as he fucked her through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

She was always so sensitive after and orgasm, she could feel another orgasm building. She tried to keep quiet but it was near impossible.

Ozan felt himself grow closer and closer to the edge, wrapping his arms around her, he yanked, her into a sitting position, her chest flushed against him, he buried his face in her neck as he pounded into her, again and again.

Esra tugged his shirt out of the way and bit down on his shoulder silencing her cries.

The sting of pain from her bite and the pleasure from her squeezing around his length sent him over the edge and he came with one last thrust, burying his cock inside her as deep as he could.

His arms wrapped tightly around her and he placed kisses against her skin. “I love you,”

Esra pilled back and cupped his face in her hands, she leaned forward, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

She didn’t say the words but Ozan felt it in her kiss, in her touch.

“We should cut out early,” She murmured, trailing a kiss over his neck, her teeth grazing the vein in his neck.

Ozan groaned. “I want to but we can’t. Not today.”

Reluctantly he pulled out of her and used a kleenex to first clean up, Esra and then another for himself and tucked himself back in his pants.

Esra watched as he slowly fixed her bra and pulled her dress back in place, zipping up her dress, his lips finding her shoulder as he did so.

Her hand easily slid into his hair and tugged him back to her mouth, kissing him with all the love she had inside of her.

Ozan’s hand cupped the back of her neck, his lips dancing with hers.

Esra pulled back, her palm flat against his cheek. “Tomorrow then,”

“No, not just tomorrow. We’ll take the week.”

Esra’s eyes shined with hope. “A week?”

“Yes, we can go on that honeymoon I never gave you. Wherever you want. I don’t care as long as we are together.”

Esra smiled her hands trailing over his shoulders to rest over his heart. “Sounds perfect.” She leaned in pressing a tender kiss to his lips just as another knock sounded on the door.

She pushed him back and made sure her clothes were in order, running a hand through her hair. She grabbed her jacket and notepad and walked to the door. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

“Yes, you will,” Ozan promised, fastening his pants and straightening up his desk as Esra opened the door.

Musa stood on the other side and he looked between him and Esra his smile wide.

Esra breezed past him without a word, Musa stepped into the room the door shutting behind him.

“Is there something you have forgotten to tell me?” Musa’s grin only widened, his eyes shining with excitement for his friend. “Just when did you reunite with my daughter-in-law?”

Ozan laughed and smiled brightly. While he and Esra were keeping their relationship secret, he saw no reason to keep it from Musa.

“We’re happy,” he said simply.

It was all that needed to be said.

Anything else should remain between him and Esra. A secret love between them until she was ready to share their happiness with the world.

Only then would he scream it from the rooftops that he was unbelievably happy with the love of his life.

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Sway Me More | Mafia!Jungkook (M)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x Assassin!OC  

Part 2: Sway With Me (M) / Part 3: Sway Me Smooth 

Requested: Anonymous:

“ ok i think i got something. i was thinking e2l mafia leader!jk and assassin!oc. they're always competing on killing the same enemies and oc beats kook to it everytime but plot twist he's actually sleeping w oc in secret, his gang doesn't know that she basically does the dirty work for him. maybe a scene where jk is busy in his office and feels something is off and he and oc pull guns on one another but its just a form of power play bc that's their relationship. dirty talk, oral male receiving, reverse cowgirl in his office chair, choking, little bit of degradation bc one of the victims oc had to seduce but kook calls her his little slut bc he's possessive like that and they both just have lots of tattoos and piercings. maybe some light bondage too? he ties her hands and the petname sweetness? i love that shit sm. ok i'm out of ur hair now fksks ”

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, BTS mafia au, Smut, humor, e2l, angst, pining.

Length: 15,664k Words

Warnings: Strong language, lots of violence, minor deaths, guns, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting, overstimulation, orgasm denial, dirty talk, BDSM(?), degradation kink, praise kink, light bondage, choking, breath play, spanking, rough sex (if you couldn’t tell), possessive!jungkook, Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibes.

A/N:

1. Not sure if this counts as a Song Fic, but this ask immediately made me think of Sway With Me by Saweetie and GALAXARA hence the title so that was on repeat haha (Stream Birds of Prey: The Album and Stay Gold for clear skin!!).

2. I didn’t mean to make the OC that crazy she just kinda was. Like honestly I don’t know what happened at the end there. Also, I thought it would be a fun dynamic for them to only refer to each other by last names. (Y/L/N)

3. Shouts out to this anon for being so specific! Writing this fic ruined my search history.

3.b You said a little bit of degradation, but I mighta over did it lol.

4. This is really fucking long. For no reason...I’m not sorry, it’s all worth it in the end. Please leave a comment, let me know what you think

Jungkook sat in the back seat of his black town car parked at the street corner, his eyes never leaving a specific window of the skyscraper adjacent to him. He watched as the piece of shit who meddled with his gang’s last drug deal canoodled with his lady friend in his apartment. Probably a hooker, he thought. This particular criminal to land on the mafia’s hit list, has been known to bring home many a sex worker. 

He took a look at his Rolex and sighed; the man as slowly, but surely losing patience. They’ve been here for a good hour. A hit has never taken this long to complete for Jungkook’s team. He communicated his frustrations to his sniper, Taehyung, who was camped out in the building directly across from the apartments. 

“When the fuck is this bitch gonna leave?” He grumbled through his earwig to his employee and friend. Taehyung laughs tiredly. 

“Yeah, I’m asking myself the same thing. They’re not even fucking, they’ve been talking and kissing for like thirty minutes.” The sniper griped.

Jungkook chuckled, hearing the response in his ear. “Just stay sharp. Or you’re back on cockfight duty.”

Taehyung paused. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Just focus, yeah?” Jungkook said, refocusing his binoculars to check on the couple in the apartment so that he could see them clearly. The bright lights in the room and the lack of curtains or shades helped him out immensely with that.

“Sure thing, boss.” 

Jungkook could barely craft a response due to the shock that took over him at what happened next. He watched as the female sitting to the left of the target with her legs draped over his thighs, pulled a knife, seemingly out of her crotch, and stabbed the white collar criminal in the gut at lightning speed. 

He lurched up in pain and grabbed at the knife only for his date to pull it out and stab him again, making deep eye contact all the while. She was obviously a strong woman to overpower a man of his burley stature. But why would she want to?                                                                                                                                                        

“What the fuck was that?” Jungkook asked immediately, continuing to watch the scene unfold carefully.

“Looks like his date just stabbed him.” Taehyung responded, just as confused as his superior. 

“I can fucking see that, but why the fuck would the hooker kill him?” He raised his voice in annoyance. The murderous hooker finished the job, wiping her fingerprints off of the knife still lodged in the target's stomach and travelled to  a nearby closet. 

Jungkook watched, overcome with awe and confusion, as she returned with a duffle bag. And his jaw literally drops when he sees her pull white coveralls out of the duffle bag, put them on over her clothes and switch off the lights in the apartment, completely blocking Jungkook’s view.

“Fuck, what’s she doing now, Taehyung?” He asked quickly, knowing that the scope on his sniper had night vision. 

“She’s...cleaning the apartment...and the body.” 

So she’s done this before, Jungkook thought pensively.

“Do you recognize her?” He uttered, needing to know more about this woman  immediately.

“Hell no, I would remember this bitch.” The gunman responds instantly.  

“What the fuck is going on?” His boss muttered to himself and Taehyung took the liberty of answering him. 

“She’s leaving.” 

Jungkook cocked his head back in surprise. “Well that was fast.” 

 “You’re telling me...she’s making her way to the street. You want us to go after her?” 

He thinks about it. No harm done, he figured.

“No, leave her be. Less mess for us.” 

“Roger that.” Taehyung nodded and packed his things. Jungkook ordered his driver to take him home and they called it a very eventful day. 

What Jungkook didn’t count on was encountering that same perpetrator again...and again. Ever since he came across this deadly woman the first time, it’s like he can’t escape her now. “The Hooker”, as the mafia were calling her, had killed three more of the names on their hit list of people who had crossed them...directly before Jungkook’s men got the chance to do it themselves. 

And the fact that it didn’t affect the gang took a backseat to the amount of irritation it brought them and Jungkook for their victim to drop dead in front of them at the hands of someone else. It angered Jungkook because he didn’t know who she was or her motives. She was obviously dangerous and stealthy and could be coming for them next for all they knew. He knew he had to catch her and find out what she was about. 

“Alright, guys. You know what to do.” Jungkook huffed to his men through his earpiece as they prepared to ambush a traitor of the gang. He had been on the run recently, selling mafia secrets and tonight the gang would put an end to him and soon, everyone he blabbed to. 

After three days of following leads, they took to tracking and set out after him. Jungkook and his members followed the conspirator from a distance and three different sides in an attempt to corner him in the ominous dark of the night. They were closing in on the ex-gang member consistently and it all seemed to come to fruition when he shuffled into a dark alley. 

This is too easy, the mafia boss thought enthusiastically to himself. Jungkook and six of his men sped up in pursuit, hoping to trap the imbecile before he realized he was a dead end. Finally, the group turned into the alley quickly, expecting to find a young man ready to shit his pants. Instead they found his slumped over corpse that had been propped up against a dumpster. 

Jungkook’s spine straightened in astonishment. They literally just saw him walk into the alley and he just drops dead? Each of the men look around for who could have done this in possibly two minutes flat. The leader draws his gaze to the roof directly in front of him and grinds his teeth in anger at the sight in front of him. The Hooker from weeks ago stood above them with an amused smirk on her face in a black, hooded catsuit. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” He roared.

“Would you clean that up for me? Thanks.” She deflected playfully and took off in the opposite direction, jumping from one rooftop to another.

“Get her.” Jungkook said calmly, still looking at the spot where the woman was previously standing. He’s had enough of this nonsense and he would be getting answers.

The gang moves out immediately, splitting up in search of the murderer. Two of them take the firescape closest to them, while the remaining men circle around the buildings to cut her off eventually. In the meantime, Jungkook calms himself down and examines the body.

“How did she even do this?” He pulled a leather glove from his breast pocket and moved the head of the deceased to the right side, looking him over carefully. He promptly noticed bruising around his neck and blood on the crown of his head.

“She choked you out that fast...without making a sound?” He whispered, completely impressed, but absolutely irritated at the same time. He sighed, at a loss and took it upon himself to actually dispose of the body. He waited in the alley with his arms crossed, thinking of how he wanted to interrogate this possible threat. 

His men communicated to him that the woman had seriously injured Jimin and Suga and that Hoseok and Jin would stay with them, but the good news was that they caught her and were on their way back.

“Wonderful.” He sighed sarcastically into his earpiece. 

After thirty long minutes, Namjoon and Taehyung re-entered the alley, this time carrying their new victim by her arms, her hands restrained behind her back with the rope originally meant for the traitor. She struggled against their hold as they made their way in until she laid eyes on Jungkook. 

She straightened slowly and walked with confidence, studying him thoughtfully as they passed the mafia leader and turned her to face him while forcing her to her knees. She winced slightly as her knee caps came in contact with the hard, wet ground.

The three of them watched carefully as the leader paced back and forth leisurely, his gaze focused on the puddles on the ground with his hand picking at nothing in particular on his lip. His train of thought was disrupted when the voice of the woman echoed through the alley.

“You gonna say something?” She scoffed impatiently. Jungkook turned to her slowly, revealing his dark, disapproving facial expression. He didn’t miss the flash of mischief in her eyes when they finally made eye contact.

“You incopacitated two of my men.” He started, continuing to walk back and forth in front of them with his hands behind his back. 

“They were chasing me.” She shrugged.

Jungkook stopped in his tracks at the negligence of her tone. He turned on his heel to face his suspect with a serious face. “Who are you and why do you keep killing my targets?” he demanded, just wanting to get to the point of why they were here. A humored smile broke out across her face.

“Your targets? Someone’s a little full of themselves.” She giggled innocently.

“Tell me and I won’t take a hammer to both your shoulders.” He said smoothly looking deeply into her eyes making sure he got his point across. 

Her cocky smirk dissipates but doesn't completely disappear. 

“You don’t have a hammer.” she muttered to herself, thinking that the mafia leader couldn’t hear her. He just gave her a pointed look, silently telling her to continue. She licks her lips slowly while holding Jungkook’s stormy gaze. 

“I was paid, you asshole.” She muttered.

“By who?” 

“No one you and your goons need to worry about.” He sighed and looked up in frustration. “Why?” 

The woman shook her head furiously. “Are you daft? It’s my job, obviously.” 

Jungkook whipped his head in her direction, his eyes widening slightly and his voice taking on a more agitated tone. 

“You disrespect me one more time and I’m gonna slap that smug smirk off your face.” He warned her harshly.

“Promises, promises.” She sang with that self-satisfied grin that he was having mixed feelings about. 

With that, Jungkook swifty brought his hand up to backhand the assailant and jumped in her direction, but stopped when his hand was halfway to her face. She didn’t move an inch or even blink. She even narrowed her eyes at him playfully. 

He backed away from her, impressed. She may have earned some of Jungkook’s respect that day, but he would never tell a single soul about it. He composed himself, eyeing her carefully. He then enganges her in a more calm conversation.

“Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does your employer know who I am?” 

“I have multiple. Some do.” She shrugs coolly. 

“What do they—” 

“Look we know you're in charge of the mafia, or whatever, but we don’t care. The people I’ve killed have wronged more than just you and your circus of idiots here and they deserved to die.” She gestured to the two henchmen holding her in place. 

“Besides I did you a favor. Several, actually. I’m a blessing in disguise.” She smiled sweetly.

Jungkook shakes his head in disagreement. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass is what you are.” 

“Oh, what a pleasure. And how do you figure that?” 

“Some mysterious...aggressor taking out a number of important people on the east side. Wouldn’t that alarm you in my position?” He queried with a raised, pierced brow. 

“Mysterious? Mr. Jeon, do you find me attractive?” She leans forward and is yanked back in place by the men flanking her. She held a suddenly sultry and intense light behind her eyes directed at Jungkook. 

He couldn’t deny her beauty; anything with a pulse would be attracted to her. Seeing her up close, he noticed her many piercings along her ears, on her septum and her left brow, just like his. He could see tattoos peeking out from her sleeves and neckline of her suit and he wondered just how much of her body was covered by tattoos. 

He was trying not to let that get in the way of this interrogation and failing miserably with his mind wandering in dangerous directions. It didn’t help that he couldn’t look her in the eye for too long, her gaze was so captivating and somehow held so many emotions that they caused him to lose focus. 

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before asking, “What is your name?” 

“Deathstalker.” Wow, Jungkook thought to himself. 

“You wanna tell me your real name?” He offered, nodding at her.

“That’s the only name you're gonna get. And just a heads up, I’m not gonna talk if you torture me.” She says confidently with hooded lids. Is she bored?, the mob boss thought. He began to pace for a few moments, the only sound in the alley coming from his designer shoes squelching against the damp concrete.

“No...no, we’re not gonna hurt you.” Jungkook decided. The two henchmen that were restraining the woman, looked up in shock. Jungkook has injured or killed people for far less than what she’s done in the past hour. 

She tilts her head uncomfortably in the hold of the gang members, to get a good look at the mafia leader’s face. She gasps and beams as if she’s had an epiphany. 

“You like me.” She settled. 

He whips around to face her. “What are you on about?” 

“I thought I was gonna have to seduce you to get you off my back, but it seems you already have a soft spot for me.” She deduced with an appeased grin on her face. 

Jungkook’s breathing deepened. He thought quickly of what he could do to draw the attention away from the truth of her statement. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she was different from any of the other suspicious characters he’s interrogated. And for some reason he didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t be seen as weak in front of his inferiors. 

In a flash, he was directly in front of her, teeth clenched and gripping her face tightly in his strong hand. His fingers pressed roughly into her jaw, her cheeks were forced to scrunch up, obscuring her vision and her mouth was bound to a permanent, painful pout. 

“Stop spewing nonsense, I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last woman on earth. You’re too dirty.” He lied gratingly. “I don’t have soft spots for anyone and you would do well to learn that. Come into my sight again and you’ll see what kind of damage I can really do.” He seethed. 

“Hot.” Deathstalker replied through forcibly clenched teeth. Jungkook sighed before flimsily releasing her chin, flinging it to the right causing her to wince. Jungkook inwardly did the same at the sight. 

“Let her go.” The henchmen do as they are told. “Get out of my sight.” She got up off her knees awkwardly with her bound wrists.

“I’m sure you know how to get rid of that yourself.” Jungkook nodded at the rope around her wrists. She nodded back casually and walked passed Jungkook, brushing up against him as she did so. 

“Catch you on the flip side.” She whispered to him before she took off in a run into the night.

Three weeks had passed without a surprise appearance from “Deathstalker” and Jungkook was beginning to think she had actually heeded his warning in the alley. He should be pleased with this fact, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Not only was the thought of her ingrained in his mind, but he was slowly convincing himself that maybe he did appreciate her services even if he wasn’t the one paying for them. His men seem to have gotten lazier with the physical side of organized crime since Jungkook’s encounter with Deathstalker. 

Or perhaps with no one to properly clean up the mess left after a hit, he’s noticing just how sloppy they’ve been. Either way, people are talking and names are traveling through the air like pollution; they can’t go on like this. 

He and his men have been actively searching for the assassin and any information they could find on her. The leader didn’t disclose his true motives to his foot soldiers for fear of looking weak, but he couldn’t have the feds knocking down the doors of his companies and he was desperate. They succeeded in finding her real name, her past hits and the names of some of her employers, but nothing on where she was hiding or how to contact her. 

Jungkook curses himself for not realizing Deathstalker’s worth sooner and tries to calm his rampant mind by chugging his flute of champagne. He looks around, disinterested at the ostentatious group of people at the pompous event he was advised to attend. 

As the head of the leading construction company on the east side and since no one suspected his night job, he showed his face in these environments from time to time. This one happens to be an art auction and Jungkook was regretting it by the minute. 

He quickly snagged one more flute of champagne before taking his seat in the front row for the auction. Half-way through the auction he considers leaving, he hasn’t raised his number card once as none of the pieces appealed to him. His head began to lull back out of pure boredom before he heard an all-too familiar voice above the noise. 

“Two million dollars!” The voice was forthright and attractive, causing every head to turn in it’s direction. 

Jungkook didn’t have to look far as the owner of the voice was sitting in the front row as well, roughly twelve seats away. His eyes widened at his suspicions being proven correct. He stares at her for a few moments, taking in her full appearance since meeting her for the first time in the alley. 

She traded in the black cat suit for a peach colored cocktail dress that hung off of one shoulder and blinding white pumps. She covered up her tattoos with makeup to Jungkook’s dismay, but still showed off her many piercings and her long wavy hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. That’s a good look, thought Jungkook who spared her one last glance before settling into his seat and devising a plan for how the rest of the night will go. 

The auction finally came to an end and the elites took to day drinking and networking once more. Jungkook blended in with the crowd, but kept a close eye on Deathstalker, waiting to find her away from her companions. He spotted her amongst strangers, nursing a glass of champagne and intently watching the middle aged crooner sing along with the orchestra.

When Marimba Rhythms start to play

Dance with me 

Make me sway

Then he pounced.

He positioned himself behind her and leaned in to speak softly into her ear. “What are you doing here?” 

She didn’t flinch or even react to his words, as if she knew he was there, and just continued to enjoy the music. She never failed to impress him.

“Well, killing all your targets actually counts for something. I’m spending my hard earned money on some fine art.” She smiled after a moment. Jungkook came to stand next to her instead. He took a swig from his drink, the two of them still not making eye contact. “You know it’s not polite to brag.” 

She finally turns to him to show off her expensive outfit. “Does this dress scream humble to you?” 

“No, but it does scream desperate.” He took her in, using it as an excuse to check her out. That cat suit didn’t do her legs justice in his opinion, but this ensemble has his approval. 

“For what?” She demanded, cocking her head to the side. 

“You tell me—” 

“You’re full of shit, Jeon.” The assassin sneered and quickly turned to walk away. Jungkook catches her by the bicep at the last second, attempting to make it look playful and desperately trying to avoid any unwanted attention.

“Wait.” He smoothly but firmly pulled her back to him, guiding her left hand to his shoulder and holding onto her right one before leading her in a slow dance towards the dance floor. He told himself he needed a more discreet position to confide his intentions in her ear again. 

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close

Sway me more

“I have a proposition for you.” 

She glances up at him, sporting narrowed and curious eyes. “Oh? This should be good. Last time you saw me, you threatened to hammer my limbs in.” She swiftly stomped on his foot, with a tight-lipped, spiteful smile. 

He groaned and gathered himself with closed eyes before getting down to business. “Drop the attitude Y/L/N.” Jungkook grumbled, causing the assassin to freeze, but he made sure to keep them moving. She switches from her normal playful demeanor to a more formidable version of herself and he is almost alarmed by the switch. She leans closer to him to reach his ear and drops her voice to a grave whisper.

“How did you know my last—” 

Jungkook doesn’t back down from her close, menacing form and goes as far as to tease her with a satisfied smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re not the only computer genius in this room okay?”

She only glares off into the distance, clenching her jaw. 

“What?” Jungkook revels in the feeling of having the upper hand on her. “My men may not be able to catch you in action, but they do know their way around a file cabinet.” He shares proudly, biting his lip with joy.

Realizing the leverage he had over her, Y/N made the decision to hear him out. “What the fuck do you want?” She spat before Jungkook spun her and dipped her quickly. And though she was angry, she moved with grace and he couldn’t help, but admire her beauty. 

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

“You.” He smirks, already missing her playful personality and hoping to bring it back out. He smiles wider when he succeeds.

She finally cracks a smile and throws her head back, unable to stop herself from laughing. “That’s funny, I thought you wouldn’t fuck me if I were the last woman on earth.” She threw his line back at him effortlessly.

The mob boss hesitates for a split second. “Okay, your memory is impeccable, I get it, but I’m talking about your services.” 

Y/N blinks in bewilderment before forming the words she never thought she would. “You want me to work for you?” He nods evenly.

“I’ve already killed five targets for you, Jeon. What more could you want?” She sputtered, not being able to fathom the request. Jungkook only releases her hand, keeping the other wrapped around her waist and nods to the empty balcony of the ballroom before leading her through it’s floor length glass doors. 

“Trust me, I’m well aware. It was insanely fucking annoying,” He said earnestly, making the assassin giggle. His heart seemed to lurch at the sound, but he ignored the pleasant pang in his chest to continue his proposal. “Until I noticed how well you clean up after yourself. Leaving almost no trace of your involvement at the crime scene.” 

He released Y/N’s waist carefully close to the door of the balcony, peering into the room to see who might be looking at them. They seemed to have a bit of privacy as of right now.

Y/N tilted her head and raised her eyebrows sincerely. “Are you really shocked that the neanderthals you hired aren’t too keen on cleaning up after themselves?” 

 “I’m trying to compliment you.” He sighed looking up.

 “You’re doing a pretty shit job.” She mumbled. He ignores her complaints and carries on. He tucks his hands into his pants pockets and walks towards her.

“My men haven’t been as stealthy as possible as of late and there’s talk that we may have caught the attention of the authorities.” 

“Again, are you surprised?” She overannunicated sassily with her arms crossed.

He marched up to her, towering over her small frame intimidatingly. “Don’t push it, Deathstalker.” He sneered at her. Her snark was beginning to piss him off. Why was he always so hot and cold with her?

“Or what?” She said seductively, suddenly snaking her arm around his torso and pressing herself against him. She gazed up at him, with flirtatious eyes

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek, gazing back down at the woman coolly. He considers feeding into her words and actions for a second, but figures it’s probably just one of her games so he tosses the idea. “I’m trying to make you an offer here.” He insisted. The mercenary sucks her teeth, lets go and turns to walk away. “Ugh you’re no fun...You couldn’t handle me anyway.”

The one time he tried to be professional. He pulls her back by the arm, forcefully pressing her into the stone wall next to the door of the balcony. He presses himself against her firmly while gripping her small waist with one hand and her chin with the other. 

"Fine,” He challenged. “Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you right here, up against this wall, like a little slut?" He spoke in a low voice so as not to concern the guests inside and the rumble of Jungkook’s voice in his chest made Y/N’s body start to heat up.  

His offer brings a genuine, delighted smile to her face. She tosses the idea around in her head while making heated eye contact with Jungkook. But that would never work, she thought bitterly. Her date would come looking for her soon. Not a good look when you're trying to bag a guy and rob him for his millions. So she decided to tease him instead, It was the perfect opportunity with him being all riled up like this. 

"I knew you liked me…” She let her sultry yet snide words linger, toying with the fabric of his collar. “But that would be unprofessional, Mr. Jeon...seeing as you are now my boss." she uttered softly, still keeping her seductive gaze. Jungkook briefly wonders if she could feel his dick twitch when she said his name like that before refocusing on the situation.

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

He took the sudden change of pace and her choice of words as her officially accepting his offer and released his hold on her with a grimace. She walks by him, smoothing down her dress with an unfazed expression and heads to the railing to take in the view, as if she wasn’t just assaulted by one of the most important men in the country. 

“So you’ll do it?” 

She kept her back to him, letting her heavy voice travel over her shoulder casually. “How much will you give me?” 

He joins her side, resting his hands on the railing. “Eight hundred, thousand.” 

She whips her head in his direction, an obviously offended expression on her face. “Do I look like one of your minions?” Y/N inquired. 

“It would be your first job with me, you gotta start somewhere.” He made a gesture with his hand, trying to reason with her.

“I started years ago and I’m good at my job. The best actually…I want a million.” She decided with a hand on her waist. 

Jungkook blinked repeatedly, taken aback. “You want me to give you a million dollars?”

“Yes, or no deal.” She answered quickly before he could even finish the question. The mafioso took a step back and laughed silently in disbelief. 

“You’re infuriating, you know tha—” 

“And you make me wanna vomit.” 

“You’re projecting.” 

“Oh, suck a dick Jeon!” She began marching towards the glass doors into the ballroom before Jungkook caught her by the arm and brought her back to him swiftly. 

“Fine, it’s yours.” He muttered, glaring down at her with frustrated eyes. 

The woman simply winked playfully at him and caressed his face. “I knew you’d come around.” She beamed looking satisfied and walked away only to be yanked back to Jungkook’s chest yet again. This time she grumbled in slight annoyance. He made a note to let up on the pulling. 

“If you cross me, we will kill you.” He said seriously. She only smiled as if he’d made a joke. 

“Unless I beat you to that too.” His face turned angry and he opened his mouth to speak when they heard the glass door open and a voice call toY/N. 

“Oh, Ruby, there you are. Is this guy bothering you?” An older gentleman in a suit and a gold chain spoke in a scraggly voice. Jungkook recognized him as Walter Schillings, a white collar criminal who has been giving Jungkook’s men a hard time and definitely landed himself on their hitist. 

Thankfully, the scum has never actually seen the mafia leader before so they were able to avoid a tricky situation at this crowded event. Though Jungkook had men scattered throughout the building in case anything went down, he never travelled alone. But, wait. Why was he referring to Y/N as Ruby?

The mafia leader had no time to figure it out because he had to explain why he was gripping this innocent looking woman the way he was. He lets go immediately and addresses the man. “We were just having a convers—” 

“No,” Y/N sighs and saunters over to Walter, grabbing his huge hand and having it encompass her small one. 

What the fuck is this? Jungkook thought, his heart suddenly racing. He tried to hide his emotions behind a cold demeanor. 

“Just some loser trying to get my attention.” She glanced back at Jungkook arrogantly, allowing Walter to slide an arm around her waist and kiss the side of her forehead as they re-entered the ballroom. 

Jungkook ground his teeth together at the sight and nearly sprinted to Walter to tear his arm off when he saw his hand reach down and grip Y/N’s ass. It bothered him even more that she hadn’t reacted whatsoever. 

He turned away and braced himself on the railing again, attempting to calm himself. “I hope she slits your goddamn throat, motherfucker.” He grumbled to himself, seething with anger. 

Jungkook spent the next fifteen minutes pouting on the balcony, gripping the railing in anger with a bothersome boner while the rich and famous boozed it up inside. Surprisingly no one had come out to bother him, giving him enough to time think about what he just saw. 

He didn’t know why the sight of Y/N with Walter infuriated him so, but he knew he never wanted to see it again. He wondered how she could flirt with him so heavily and then disregard him completely at the drop of a hat. He just wanted to make her eat her petty words, drive her as crazy as she seemed to be driving him. 

It didn’t help that he had been having fantasies of her for the past few weeks in that catsuit just letting him have his way with her. And here she comes, looking like sex on legs and clouding his judgement after disappearing for three weeks. Just who does she think she is? Jungkook sighed frustratedly at the pitiful turn his night had taken. 

He wished he had a distraction from his thoughts. He wished he could leave this vexatious place, but something was keeping him here and he had a feeling that, that something was a menace in a dress and liked to play mind games. 

Okay, so, the boner that won’t seem to go away may also be responsible for keeping him isolated on this balcony, but he had every intention of taking care of it. He just had to convince Y/N.

He quickly tucked his boner into his waistband and walked back into the ballroom like he never left, eyes peeled for Y/N’s small form among the guests. He sees her enter the restroom from afar and doesn’t think before pursuing her. 

On any other day Jungkook wouldn’t dream of executing what was going on in his head, but Y/N was admittedly the most breathtaking thing he’d ever seen and she caused him to think purely with his dick after their interaction today. 

He doesn’t know how he managed to skip into the women’s restroom without setting off any of the guests, but he considers it a victory when he’s in and locks the door without thinking about it. He turned to find Y/N touching up her make-up at the large mirror above the sinks. 

They make eye contact through the mirror, but they have yet to exchange words. Y/N narrows her eyes questioningly while Jungkook considers the silence and stillness in the room. So far so good. 

Jungkook’s shoes clicked on the tile floor as he took a few steps away from the door. “Where did your date go?” He questioned casually.

Y/N finally pauses touching up her face. “He also went to the bathroom, what are you doing in here?” She answers speedily, watching him intently through the mirror. “We made our deal.” 

“I came to see you…” The woman hums in understanding and starts on her lipstick again, seemingly uninterested. “You getting all dolled up for him?” Jungkook finishes.

“Essentially yes.” There is a pause before Jungkook just comes out with it. 

“So you gonna sleep with him tonight?” 

Deathstalker scoffed. “Of course not. I’m an assassin not a hooker.” 

Jungkook muffles a laugh at the inside joke amongst him and his men when his new ally finally starts to show some interest. “Why do you care anyway?” 

He walks up to her boldly, gripping her waist and pressing against her from behind causing her to put the make-up down and zero in on his face. She continued to watch his eyes when he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I just wonder what he would say if I messed up this pretty little face.” He brings his hand up to gently grip her chin, unlike how he did earlier. She smiles slightly, making no attempt to free herself from his grasp. If anything she leans more into his touch.

“Mr. Jeon.” She drawled. “Are you still threatening me?” She bats her eyelashes coyly, knowing exactly what was going on. Jungkook has no idea why that innocent look and the words ‘Mr. Jeon’ falling from her mouth made him hard, but he continually needed more of it. He shuddered lightly at the name and her sweet, sweet voice, barely managing to keep his cool.

“Not in the painful way...unless you like that.” He rasped, brushing her lip with his thumb tenderly. She held back a moan and Jungkook took that as an invitation to take it a step further. 

“Do you want me?” He breathed deeply in her ear, sending chills down her spine.

She licked her lips and smiled her signature seductive smile. Jungkook was no match for both her smile and her beautiful doe-eyes. “Oh, Mr. Jeon, you know my pride won’t let me answer that.” 

“Cut the games Y/L/N. I’ve had enough of your shit today. Do you want me?” He repeats. He fully pressed his body into hers allowing her to feel the need that he had been accumulating out on the balcony, his breathing getting heavier. She returned the gesture, pushing back against him discreetly. 

“I thought we agreed that you would just be my boss.” She said with wide, naive eyes, though Jungkook knew better. 

“Well, then, as your boss I hope you would do as I ask and let me fuck you on this sink.” He let his fingers travel from her chin to her throat and let them wrap around her neck ever so gently, giving her just a taste of what was to come. He felt her swallow thickly and watched the innocent look in her eyes turn to primal lust. “So? You wanna see if I can handle you or not?” He whispered, touching his lips to her ear.

She shivered at the touch and quickly turned around to face him. Jungkook leaned in and they were nose to nose. She wrapped her arms around his neck, but their lips barely brushed when she backed away suddenly. He looked into her stern eyes confusedly. “This means nothing.” She said, making sure they were both on the same page. “I’m aware.” he responded before they both pounced at each other, teeth clacking and tongues swirling.

Y/N moaned in delight when Jungkook gripped the back of her thighs and sat her on the granite sink counter with a quickness. He forced her skirt up to her hips roughly so he could properly grind his crotch against her and she seemed to enjoy the rough handling. He made a note of that. 

His hands were everywhere on her, massaging her breasts, squeezing her hips and ass, eager to finally be living his most recent fantasies. Y/N revelled in the attention with a smile on her face, hands playing freely in his silky hair whilst he kissed along her neck. 

He quickly reached down between Y/N’s legs to find that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. He leans back and their heated gazes meet. “You dirty little slut.” He noted, gruffly. “You like it.” She confidently reassured him. “You’re damn right, I like it.” He mumbled as he attached his lips firmly to hers and applied pressure, rubbing her swollen clit with his fingers. “...Mmm, God, you’re so wet.”

The assassin’s body jerked several times and she moaned into his mouth, grinding further into his touch. She separated from him when she couldn’t take anymore and stared deeply into his eyes. “Please,” she pauses to catch her breath. “Please fuck me, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook unzipped his pants before she could even finish her sentence, preparing a condom that he is thanking God he brought with him today. “I like when you say my name like that.” He whispered against her ear.

“I know, your dick told me. Now, hurry before someone breaks the door down.” Jungkook then slides into her easily. Y/N sighs in ecstasy while Jungkook is stunned into silence at the way she gripped his dick. He starts to move almost immediately, holding her in place as he snaps his hips into her, their lips sloppily tangled all the while. The sound of their moans began to bounce off of the tile walls of the bathroom, both of them throwing any cares they had for being discreet out the window.

Jungkook grunted with excitement and pleasure at the sight in front of him. He was watching her moaning form closely, memorizing every detail of her incase he never got this chance again.

“Fuck yes. Your dick feels so fucking good inside me.” She panted, focused on his wide, intense eyes. “Just keep fucking me like that, Mr. Jeon.” He released a satisfied growl at the name.  

Even though he had only met her weeks ago, Jungkook never would have guessed that Y/N would be the type to beg for anything. But here she was under him, at his mercy just like in his dreams, begging for him. It occurred to him that the Deathstalker he met would never admit to or do any of this, but Y/N seemed to be living for it. The idea excited him so much that he didn’t know up from down and didn’t bother to control any nonsense that spewed from his mouth in response to her. 

“You look like a dirty little slut under me right now. Letting me fuck you in the bathroom while your date’s probably outside waiting or you.” He whispered harshly in her ear, never letting up as he continues to thrust in and out of her swiftly. 

Y/N threw her head back and moaned, feeling nothing but turned on by his comments. “Oh, fuck yes..” She murmured, letting herself be carried away with pleasure. 

“Not wearing any panties for him, letting him touch all over you, ugh...but I’m the one who gets to have this sweet pussy by the end of the night.” He breathed heavily, not taking his eyes off of Y/N’s face that was contorted in pure bliss. “Flirting with both of us all night long, making us want you. You’re such a bad girl.”

“I am, I’m a bad girl.” She whimpered hurriedly. “I need to be punished, Mr. Jeon.” She finished, her words not completely registering in her drunken state, but they resonated with Jungkook all too well. He forced himself to slow his thrusts considerably and focus on his breathing much to Y/N’s dismay.

She leans back into him and rests her forehead on his, running her fingers through his hair and grinding on him desperately. “No, no, no, no, no, no. Why did you stop?” Her low, lusty voice implored. 

Jungkook chuckles lightly. “You’re gonna make me cum sweetheart.” She pulled his hips into her helping him find a new rhythm. “Then by all means, do, Mr. Jeon. I want you to cum inside me.” She purred before kissing him softly. 

That set something off in him causing him to pound into her once more. Y/N was thrown back by the force, unable to hold her upper body up any longer. She rested her elbows on the counter and tilted her head all the way back while Jungkook thrusted away into her. 

He saw her face in the mirror and appreciated that he got the watch the pleasure they were experiencing together until he noticed her eyes were closed. 

He realised he didn’t wanna cum this way. He pulled out of her, ignoring her cries of disapproval, turned her around and roughly bent her over the counter. 

“Oh, baby, you gotta see this.” He rasped before sliding into her again and instantly started fucking into her wildly. Y/N yelped before biting her knuckle in order to keep quiet. “Oh my god, yes, fuck me!”

Jungkook grabbed her ponytail and dragged her up off the counter and into his chest so that he could whisper in her ear. She winced, but let him wrap her hair around his fist and pull harder, the back of her head totally resting on his shoulder. 

She could see him behind her, relentlessly hammering into her greedy body in all his glory. Maybe she misjudged him. The sight turned her on even more, sending another rush of wetness between her thighs. 

“You’d better keep it down princess. Wouldn’t want your date to think his girl was in here getting railed like a slut. Oh, wait.” Y/N wanted to laugh, but Jungkook released her hip to wrap his large hand around the base of her neck and firmly squeezed. 

Her eyes immediately rolled back at the gesture, but she made sure to refocus on the mirror as Jungkook was watching closely. The pressure was building in her core more and more. She was gonna fall over the edge any second now, she was so close.

“Oh m-ffffuck, yes! You’re gonna make me cum, Mr. Jeon.” She whined through clenched teeth, looking into his piercing eyes through the mirror. 

“Then fucking cum for me.” His deep voice grated in her ear. 

“Harder! Choke me harder!” Y/N pleaded as her orgasm crashed right into her. He squeezed tighter at just the right time and with just the right pressure that had Y/N seeing stars and prolonging her high. Jungkook held off his own orgasm, trying not to think about her velvety walls pulsating around him, so that he could watch Y/N fully enjoy hers. And boy was it something to watch. 

Her jaw dropped and stilled as her eyes rolled into her head, but it was the most beautiful thing Jungkook had ever seen. Her body was frozen in a perfect arch as he thrusted away into her and her hand firmly cradled his head so that their cheeks were pressed together. He would hold out for as long as he could as she rode her high completely if only to watch her like this for a little longer.

Eventually she tapped Jungkook's hand causing him to let go of her neck and she collapsed onto the counter breathlessly. “Holy fuck.” She gasped as she braced herself on the granite surface. 

She coughed a bit and caught her breath and then looked up at Jungkook with fucked out, voracious eyes. He never took his eyes off of her and never stopped pumping his dick into her delicious cunt. 

“You gonna cum for your little cock slut, Mr. Jeon?” Y/N croaked, throat sore from being choked. But every word sounded like music to Jungkook’s ears. That look on her face made him wanna blow his load on the spot. “Yeah, baby.” Is all he can offer as his hips break their rhythm without his permission.

“Please, cum inside me.” She moaned out as Jungkook emptied himself into the condom, hips sputtering near the end until they stopped with his dick still deep inside of her. He was in his own head, lost in a post-coital stupor, thinking about how that may have been the best orgasm he’s ever had when Y/N spoke up.

“You can get out of me now.” She said flatly, thrusting Jungkook back into the real world. He murmured an apology and withdrew himself from her, watching her walk casually into one of the stalls without a word or a look in his direction. 

He just stood there with his cock out wondering what the hell just happened. He thought they made a connection. He agreed that it wouldn’t mean anything, but was she really that cold hearted to just ignore him after a passionate experience like that? Well, she is a mercenary, his conscience defended, they’re not meant to be caring. 

As he heard the stall start to open up he quickly turned around, discarded the condom and tucked himself back into his pants. He then watched as she came back out looking more put together than before. 

She washed her hands and began to touch up her appearance again. This time she actually needed it. The foundation on her neck was rubbed off by his fingers, revealing the tattoos that Jungkook missed,  her lipstick was smeared and her high ponytail drooped due to the pulling. Awkward silence took over the spacious restroom. Is she really not going to say anything?

He decided to just come out with it. “What was that?” 

“What are you talking about?” She requested, haphazardly while fixing her hair in the mirror.

“Well, you were just all over me and now you’re acting like I don’t exist.” He said plainly.

“It’s called sex, you don’t fuck like a virgin so I assume you know what I’m talking about. Besides, I’m not acting like anything.” Jungkook had a hard time believing that. He knew what deflecting looked like, had seen it in many interrogations. 

“Then why won't you look at me?” He challenged.

Her eyes widened in annoyance as she reached around to place another bobby pin in her hair. “I’m kinda busy here, Jeon.” 

He couldn’t help, but feel bothered that she dropped the sassy formality of calling him Mr., an indication that she was enjoying his company. “Look, will you just talk to me for a sec—”

She suddenly stops what she’s doing. Her breathing is long and deep before she calms down and begins speaking smoothly with her eyes closed. “Look, Jeon. We don’t know each other and I don't know what you think you know about me or what you made up in your head, but you might as well forget all of that ‘cause it’s not real.” She sighed, continuing to recover her foundation.

“That wasn’t real?” He finally commanded. He hated to admit it, but he was slightly bothered when she didn’t even offer him a glance. “That?” She responded, only interested in her reflection.

“That,” He clarified, gesturing to the counter sternly. “What we just did, what we...said.” He gulped nervously. This wasn’t like him, he didn’t get nervous or have passionate sex with strangers and let it effect him. This is only his second time meeting this woman and he let her get in his head. He’s been asking himself the same question since meeting her in the alley: what makes her so different?

She put down her foundation and just stared at it blankly. “And what part of what we said are you confused about, pray tell.”

“Um, ‘I need to be punished, Mr. Jeon.’” He quoted promptly. 

Honestly the only thing he was confused about was why she was suddenly being so cold to him. All of the words they shared were noteworthy and he wanted her to acknowledge that. The whole experience still shocked Jungkook and he never dreamed it would actually happen. He just brought up a snippet that he thought might get her attention and maybe evoke some emotion finally. He chose wisely.

Her head whipped in his direction. “And you liked it, didn’t you?” She sneered. “Or perhaps we could talk about how you like to call women, sluts, hm?” 

“I thought you liked it,” He tried to get in, but she wasn’t having it.

Jungkook thought her angry face looked nothing like it did five minutes ago or even out on the balcony. She suddenly let out a bitter laugh and Jungkook realized that this woman probably wears many faces. Perhaps to defend herself. Perhaps to survive. Maybe he misjudged her. 

“You know, I didn’t take you for a person who throws things that people say during sex back in their face.” She accused, sporting a dark smile.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I didn’t take you for a...a—”

“A submissive?” She shot, putting an end to his stuttering. He deflated, all signs of anger or disapproval gone from his stance. “Yes.” He copped out, not knowing what else to say. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” 

Y/N visibly calmed down as well, turning back to the mirror and continuing her work. “Are you surprised?” She muttered, raising her eyebrows. 

Jungkook thought for a second before responding, evenly: “No.” Thinking about how much Y/N might have gone through to be so successful as a trained killer, she must have had to be the strongest and smartest person in the room on any given day. There had to be a time where she wanted to take a break, not be the person in charge for once. Jungkook could relate. 

His response made her pause, but she only cleared her throat and continued applying foundation in silence. I can’t leave things like this, Jungkook decided. He just got an actual glimpse into her personality and not the same act she puts on for the rest of the world. He found out that they might even have some things in common. He didn’t want her to shut him out now. It may have been a moment of weakness for both of them, but he wanted to continue this.

“I could, you know, help...punish you, i-if you want.” He spluttered with his hands in his pockets, trying to make himself look as confident as possible since his voice had already betrayed him. 

Y/N stills and turns to him with a confounded expression, but didn’t say anything.

“I mean, unless you already have a…” Jungkook left out the last word for her to hopefully pick up on, suddenly shy about the world of BDSM. 

“No, I don’t.” She rushed out, looking down at the counter and creating an awkward silence between them. “I’ll think about it.” She added genuinely. She looked at him over her shoulder and offered a gentle nod, her expression completely blank. 

Jungkook nods back in acknowledgement. “Okay, then.”

“Now get out of here, I’m sure there are ladies that need this restroom.” She pulled on her signature playful smirk, nearly giving Jungkook whiplash. Many faces indeed.

“Yeah, okay.” He gathered himself and walked towards the door, but turned back when he realized something. “Wait, how do I contact you for the job?”

“I’ll call you, now go.” She said packing up her stuff. 

Jungkook nodded, unlocked the door and quickly darted out of the bathroom. As he sped by he saw Walter down the hall posted in front of the men’s room patiently waiting for his date. Thankfully his head was turned when Jungkook made his way out of there and to the exit. He smirked wickedly, knowing he got away with his ridiculous plan. “Dumbass.”

Two weeks had gone by since the bathroom incident and Jungkook worked tirelessly to distract himself from thoughts of the beautiful assassin to no avail. He realized there was no escaping her. He thought their rendezvous at the auction would help get her out of his system, but it only fueled his addiction for her and now he was trapped in a vicious cycle that he didn’t know if he wanted out of. 

They kept in contact and Deathstalker killed the enemies on Jungkook’s hit list, but this time she was being paid by the mafioso himself unbeknownst to his men. They found themselves in situations much like the first time they ran into Deathstalker more often than not. Only now she had to be more creative as Jungkook’s foot soldiers still thought she was a possible threat.

As Jungkook sat across from Collin Boardly, a corrupt CEO/gang leader, he wondered if this would be one of those situations. Boardly is a fellow criminal that Jungkook was on good terms with until he heard that Boardly’s men have been attacking and blackmailing store owners in his territory. Jungkook insisted that he pay those victims back and restore all damages. He even invited Mr. Boardly to a very private game of poker so that they could properly discuss matters. 

They sat in the dimly lit restaurant owned by one of Jungkook’s close friends with their respective security surrounding them. Boardly felt obligated to bring his men as he offended Jungkook and now he was on his turf. Jungkook’s men insisted on backing him up, but he had a strong feeling that none of that would be necessary. 

They had already made small talk while getting the game started and Jungkook got straight to business. 

“So, I hear you’ve been terrorizing my streets. What’s the story there?” Jungkook inquired calmly. Boardly huffed a nervous laugh at the mention of what his men did. “Personally I think terrorizing might be too strong a word.”

Jungkook’s brows raised and his expression turned serious. “Well, what would you call threatening multiple lives at gunpoint, roughin’ ‘em up and demanding cuts of their earnings then? Business?” He denounced. 

“As usual.” Boardly finished the adage with a large smile. Jungkook only looked at him with the same no nonsense expression and Boardly seemed to regret making the remark.

“Just a joke, Jungkook.” He muttered. “I am sorry that I allowed my guys to do that.” He doubled down. “We simply didn’t know how far your territory reached. We meant no disrespect.”

“I appreciate that.” Jungkook replied, anger stirring inside him as he fought not to rip this man’s head from his shoulders.They continued to play in near silence until Jungkook finally pressed him for answers. 

“So how do you intend to fix what your guys broke?”

Boardly looked up with a lost expression on his face. “Excuse me?” He grumbled.

“There was damage done to these stores, yes?” Jungkook assessed slowly. “And you’ve already collected cuts from some of the owners…” He can see Boardly’s eyes widen slightly in recognition. 

“Oh, you didn’t know I knew that.” The mob boss gathered. “Anyway, I assume you’re ready to pay for that. I was thinking fifty, thousand dollars would cover it.” He suggested calmly. 

Boardly tried to give an excuse, stuttering. “I’m-I don't think you understand—”

“I understood you can afford it, judging by those chips.” Jungkook chided, gesturing to the large bet Boardly made in the center of the poker table. Boardly sighed at a loss. 

“Kook, listen.” The CEO leaned forward, trying to reason with his opponent. “We’re friends. It was an accident, can’t we just forget this happened?”

“No.” Jungkook responded instantly, his arms crossed. “We were...associates, but now you’re just someone who fucked with my community. So are you gonna pay it back or not?” He seethed furiously.

Boardly swallowed and stared at Jungkook for a few moments, wondering how else to bargain with him. He had too much pride to go through with this deal, especially in front of his inferiors.

“No.” He finally answered.

Jungkook sighed disappointedly. The air in the room turned ominous and it was felt by all. Normally, Jungkook would be killing Boardly by now and he could feel all of his men tense behind him, ready to kill if need be, but he was doing things differently today. He just nodded understandingly, before gesturing with his left hand to get Taehyung’s attention.

“Taehyung. Will you get me a glass of water from the kitchen please?” He asked politely without looking at him. He hears his right hand man head to the kitchen and he turns back to the piece of shit in front of him.

“Why, Collin? Is there something wrong with doing right by those you fucked over?” Jungkook questioned, heatedly.

“No, Kook—”

“Don’t call me that.”

Boardly scoffed and continued. “I just don’t think we did anything wrong. We overstepped, we apologized, I think that should be enough.”

“Well, I don’t. So where does that leave us?”

“I’m not paying for shit.” The CEO shrugged. That really pissed Jungkook off. 

“Go to hell, Boardly.” He growled. I’m really gonna enjoy watching you bite it, Jungkook thought sinisterly. 

Taehyung placed the glass of water in front of his boss and made the decision to continue to stand at his side, ready if anything were to happen. 

“Fine.” Boardly responded bitterly. “So are we done here? Or are you gonna give me a hard time?” He asked, nodding at Taehyung for emphasis. Jungkook shook his head nonchalantly. “No, no. We’re done.” with a haunting smirk on his face. The look put Boardly slightly on edge, but he ignored it and stood up to corral his men. 

Jungkook watched him make his way to the door wondering what the fuck was taking so long? He already gave the signal. He started to reach for his own gun to do it himself when he noticed Boardly stop in his tracks and could hear him choking. 

Even Jungkook and his men wore looks of concern. The mafia leader got up to get a better view from where he stood and the others craned their necks behind him still ready to shoot first and ask questions later. 

Boardly’s men tried to help him as he clutched his throat, but it was no use as he convulsed and fell to the floor before ceasing to move altogether. They looked at each other for answers before turning to Jungkook. 

One of the guys who was wearing a blue suit, which Jungkook assumed to be Boardly’s right hand, pulled out a gun and walked towards him. Taehyung and Jungkook pulled theirs as well, causing everyone with a gun to point them at either side. 

“You do this?!” Boardly’s guy raged. “How?” Jungkook argued. “How would I do that to him? He probably had a heart attack or forgot to breathe or some shit.” He surmised, trying to place the blame elsewhere. 

“Bullshit! What did you do?” He demanded.

“Look, I’m sorry for your loss or whatever, but we had nothing to do with this. Now you all gotta do something with him.” He pointed his gun at the dead body briefly. Blue suit breathes heavily with a stumped expression, not wanting to let it go. No one in the room showing any signs of letting up either.

“How about we all put the guns down and you guys can take him home-or wherever. Yeah? Does that work?” Jungkook prompted gently. After a beat, blue suit nodded, looked back at the rest of Boardly’s men and nodded. Jungkook did the same and slowly, but surely the guns came down and were put away. 

Jungkook and his men watched as they dragged the body out of the restaurant and sped away from the large storefront windows. They’re finally able to breathe without stress. “What the fuck was that?” Namjoon blurted causing the rest of them to chuckle. 

“I don’t know, but I’m getting the fuck outta here before they come back. See you guys back at base.” They laughed and said their goodbyes. Jungkook walked in the light rain to the next block over and found his town car ready and waiting for him. 

He opened the passenger door, addressed his driver, then retrieved a large black duffle bag before opening the backdoor. There he found Deathstalker sitting cross legged in a black trench coat at the other window seat. He smiled fondly at her. She looked beautiful as always gazing out the window at the rain before she noticed him there. When she turned to face him he replaced the fond smile with a composed smirk. 

“Took you long enough.” She opined quietly once he sat down and closed the door. “We got held up, literally. I think this belongs to you.” He passed the duffle bag off to her. She received her present graciously, beaming down at the contents happily once she opened it. 

“Thank you Mr. Jeon.” Y/N crooned playfully, sporting that signature smirk that never failed to affect Jungkook. “No, thank you.” He responded after clearing his throat. “So you poisoned him?” 

She simply replied, “Yup.” while inspecting the cash that filled the duffle bag in her lap. 

“But he randomly started choking and shaking. And you say you controlled it with the push of a button?” He wondered with furrowed brows and pouted lips. 

“Well, poison, a small nanobot that I planted in his food to attack his lungs and cause internal bleeding, it’s all the same, you know.” She spoke aimlessly, moving on from the money to buff and inspect her manicure.  

“Wow.” Jungkook whispered, genuinely infatuated with the thought of that kind of technology and how he could get his hands on it. While he was lost in thought he didn’t notice Y/N scooching closer to him until they were side by side. He turned to find their noses were nearly touching and his heart rate sped up rapidly.  

“Now that, that’s over…” she drawled, grasping Jungkook’s hand. He watched unquestionably as she brought his hand to her mouth and inserted his middle and ring fingers all while looking into his eyes alluringly. At the same time, she easily brought her leg up to drape over both of Jungkook’s. He still sat frozen in place by her gaze while she lifted the bottom of her coat and placed his hand against her bare heat.

They both shuddered slightly when Jungkook instinctively began to rub circles into her already wet core, never taking their eyes off each other. 

“You wanna go somewhere?” She coaxed breathily. It almost infuriated Jungkook how she didn’t even have to try to get him to agree to anything. He was indeed trapped. 

“James,” He called up to the driver. “The Plaza Hotel please.” 

Currently, Jungkook was going through paperwork in his office, taking advantage of the slow week he’s had to take care of some business for his company. It’s been a while since he’s gotten to do this so he was pretty backed up and seemingly had a whole afternoon of this to look forward to. He sighed at the thought, but continued to read through the documents and sign them here and there when suddenly he felt something was...off. He put his pen down and looked around the room.

The room was silent as usual, but all of a sudden it was too silent? Jungkook didn’t know how and he couldn’t really make sense of it until he looked up at the ceiling vent. It was no longer producing the usual soft hum. There was nothing. He silently walked under the vent to inspect it when he saw a glint in between the slats. Immediately, he moved from under it and drew his gun, aiming it at the vent. 

“I see you motherfucker! Come out right now or I’ll put ten holes in you!” He shouted. The intruder heeded the warning and right away the vent was forced to the floor. Jungkook watched intently as two feminine hands holding a gun slowly dropped down and though it was upside down, it was perfectly aimed at him. 

He still had his gun trained on the vent as the trespasser entered through the hole in the ceiling to reveal the familiar face of Deathstalker herself. Only her upper body could be seen as her strong legs held her in place from inside the vent.

She smiled easily at Jungkook as if they weren’t in a stand-off right now. “Hello, Mr. Jeon.” Her tone was calm, but somewhat guarded, telling him what her face never would. Jungkook was stuck between being relieved to see that it was only Deathstalker and being concerned that she was pointing a gun at him. 

“Hello, Deathstalker. You wanna tell me why you broke into my office and have a gun in my face?” He queried with a tilt of his head. Y/N only reached up to grip the hole in the ceiling, somehow removing herself from the vent with one hand, her gun and her gaze still trained on Jungkook as she landed on her feet in front of him. More contradicting thoughts swirled in his mind at the sight.  

“You finally caught me. I’m proud.” She smirked, removing the hood of her catsuit from her head.

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, maybe you can congratulate me later. Why are you here? You finally turn on me? Did someone send you, huh?” 

“Don’t be so dramatic. You have something I need.” She explained with a determined look. Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “Is that so? And what might that be?” 

“You know what it is.” Y/N quipped, tilting her gun along with the inflection in her voice. He shakes his head assuredly. “No, No, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you wanna put the gun down I’d love to discuss it.” He entreated informally. 

“No.” She spoke firmly. A beat of silence passes before Jungkook has had enough. “Put the fucking gun down, Y/L/N.” He demanded gruffly. 

“You put the fucking gun down.” She spat right back at him. 

“I’m not doing this, just tell me what it is—” He reasoned.

“You know what it is—” Before she can fully respond, Jungkook rushed her, forcing her gun away from him and ripping it out of her hand. He quickly backed up and flung the gun across the room before pointing his back at her. They each caught their breath and Y/N bit her lip frustratedly. 

Jungkook gave a triumphant smile. “There, that’s better. You ready to talk now—”

Y/N’s leg swiftly came up to kick the gun right out of Jungkook's hand before he even realized what happened. He looked at the gun sliding away from them on the floor, then back at Deathstalker, who smirked and raised an arrogant brow.

“Okay.” Jungkook uttered right as Y/N charged at him. He panicked slightly at the thought of fighting her, but the instinct to fight back kicked in when she launched herself and wrapped her body around him like an anaconda. 

They struggled while Deathstalker tried to take Jungkook to the floor. Luckily for him, he wasn’t only a skilled shooter, but a trained and very skilled fighter as well. It wasn’t long before he freed himself from her vice grip and they were in a standoff once again, this time with their fist raised and ready to defend. 

“What the hell has gotten into you Y/L/N? I wish you would tell me what this is about.” Jungkook grumbled as they circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

Y/N chuckled mischievously. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Yes, actually!” He exploded. She took his emotional outburst as an opportunity and pounced once again. Jungkook was quicker to react this time and they were practically sparring in the middle of his office and only lord knows why. Jungkook found himself getting irritated because he was barely one step behind Deathstalker in her strikes and attacks. 

As they got more invested, Jungkook noticed that she didn’t intend on hurting him, but she did intend to win. Somewhere in the scuffle, he fell behind and let her right hook distract him from the leg that swept his feet from under him. She was on top of him in an instant, with a habitual flat hand at his jugular ready to stop him from breathing. They stare at each other, both of them breathing heavily. 

“Got you.” Y/N suddenly whispered smugly. “Now, are you gonna give me what I want?” She prompted provocatively, sliding her hand into the collar of his shirt slowly. The feel of her hot skin on his almost burned with their charged up bodies and wild emotions. He blinked in realization at her increasingly turned on form above him. 

“You. Crazy. Fucking. Bitch.” Jungkook fumed quietly, looking up at her in disapproval. She just giggled freely and though usually the sound would bring a smile to Jungkook’s face, it only pissed him off. 

He pushed her off of him and shoved her against the wall roughly, holding her there by the neck. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, breaking in here and waving a gun in my face.” He hissed in anger, their noses touching. “You know, if you wanted dick you could have just said so.” 

“Where’s the fun in that Mr. Jeon?” She crooned, leaning forward to kiss him and he denied her, coolly tilting his head back. He continued to hold her by the throat to the wall firmly, causing her to choke briefly, but if she was uncomfortable she didn’t let it show.

“No.” He shook his head, Y/N could see his gears turning as he did so. “No?” She echoed, curiously. 

“To answer your question. I’m not giving you what you want.” A devious smirk slowly appeared on his face that made Y/N’s body temperature rise. “No, you’re gonna do what I want now and you’re gonna like it.” He breathed, pressing himself against her and brushing her lips with his teasingly. She inhales audibly, trying not to look affected by his sudden behavior. 

“But, Mr. Jeon, I want what you want.” She encouraged him sweetly, reaching for him. He put a stop to that quickly by pinning her wrists above her with one hand and resuming his hold on her neck with the other. She grunted and squirmed before giving up, looking up a childish defeated expression, but Jungkook knew she loved it. 

He looked into her eyes with a strong dominance that had Y’N swallowing thickly in anticipation. “Are you talking back to me, Y/L/N?” His eyebrows furrowed intimidatingly. 

She bit her lip to suppress her giddy smile. She needed to play along and not mock Jungkook’s very real emotions. The dynamic has officially shifted and now Y/N’s main objective was to please him. “No, Mr. Jeon.” She assured in a register slightly higher than her natural voice. 

“Really, because you seem to have a lot to say for someone who’s at my mercy. I wonder if you’d still be as talkative with my dick in your mouth.” He growled hotly in her ear sending shivers down her spine.

She shuddered a hopeful response. “Can we find out, Mr. Jeon...please?” She implored when she felt him pull away. 

He looked her over, taking in her needy form. “Look at you, already begging for it.” He shook his head in amazement. “I should keep you here and see how long you can hold your breath for me before your face starts to change color.” He whispered while closing his hand tighter around her neck. Y/N hummed delightfully at the feeling, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“But you’d probably like that wouldn’t you?” He leaned back in, getting her attention. She opened her eyes and gave a pleasant smile. “You know that I do.” She choked out. He smiled back at her admirably before releasing most of the pressure on her throat. 

“No, I got something else planned for y—” He stopped abruptly, looking towards the door because he thought he heard the click of familiar shoes in the hall. His theory was proven correct when he heard them getting closer. He quickly looked to Y/N with wide eyes. 

“Get under the desk.” He ordered softly before they both scurry to the huge desk near the window. She easily fit herself under it on her knees facing out and Jungkook took the seat right in front of her. As soon as they were situated, there was a knock on his office door.

“Come in.” He called pretending to look over his files. Taehyung poked his head in with a concerned expression before he fully entered the room. “Hey boss. Everything okay here?” He questioned.

“Yes, fine. Why?”

“Nothing, we just thought we heard some...I don’t know, movement?” As Taehyung spoke, Jungkook could feel hands raking up his thighs and his eyes widened quickly. He tried to compose his expression, but he then felt the unbuttoning of his pants. 

No, no, no, no, he thought in a panic. He tries not to focus on just how Y/N got his zipper down as silently as she did and focuses on Taehyung’s lips as he talked. 

“Oh, no, yeah. That was just me. I was practicing...sh-shadow boxing.” He lied choppily as Y/N released his already hard dick from his pants. 

“In a suit?” Taehyung replied, confusedly. 

Jungkook jolted slightly and fought back a moan when the assassin took him in her warm, wet mouth. “Waauuuhh, yes. Yes, I was.” He cleared his throat to cover up more moans when she began to skillfully bob her head up and down on his length. 

“Oh, well okay.” Taehyung settled. “So if that’s all—” Jungkook attempted to see him off with no success. 

“Anyway, we got a lead on that Deathwalker chick.” He offered in a more chipper tone. Y/N paused her movements, intrigued by the information. What had they found out? Jungkook shamelessly rested his hand on the back of her head and pulled, encouraging her to keep going much to both of their disbelief. She obeys and continues the task eagerly, but careful not to have too much fun or she’ll risk getting caught. “Is that so?” the mob boss replied. 

“Yeah, it’s not much, but we assumed you wanted us to brief you on it as soon as possible.” His soldier nodded respectfully. 

“Ugh,” Jungkook moaned, half-way masking it as a noise of gratitude. “Thank you, Tae. I appreciate it. We’ll be sure to discuss thisssssss later.” He faltered. “Yes, sir.” Taehyung nodded again, making a face at Jungkook. 

“Hey, you okay boss?” He looked closer at his superior with genuine concern. “Never better Tae.” Jungkook forced out quickly. “Are you sure? Y—”

“Taehyung?” The gang leader addressed him firmly. “Yes?” 

“Get the fuck out of my office.” 

“Yes, sir.” Taehyung nodded, knowing when he was unwanted and without another word he was exiting the office. 

Jungkook pushed away from the desk immediately and grabbed a handful of Y/N’s hair as he stood both of them up. She only smiled at the manhandling and wiped the excess spit from her mouth. 

“You really want me to hurt you, don’t you?” He snarled at her. She fought back the strong urge to moan a yes and instead just stayed silent with a feigned guilty look on her face. “Take that off. Now. ” He commanded, gesturing to her catsuit. She shimmied it off of her arms and down her legs to reveal her naked body, leaving her heels on, all while Jungkook kept a tight grip on her hair. 

“How many do you think I should give you?” He asked, suddenly calmer than before. “How ever many you think is right sir.” She spoke in a small voice, but her innocent act didn’t fool him. He stared at her bare, unapologetically, beautiful body in wonderment before forcing her body to bend over his desk. 

He caressed her thighs and backside tenderly and then when she least expected it he delivered a delicious slap to it. Y/N yelped and then sighed with contentment. The wait was over, now the real fun could begin. 

“I told you.” Slap. “We weren't.” Slap. “Gonna do.” Slap. “What you wanted.” Slap. “To do.” Slap. “But you just don’t listen.” He accentuated his words with powerful smacks delivered to both of her cheeks and then rubbed at the tender flesh to soothe the sting. 

He ran his finger up her spine gently, making her shiver visibly. He smirked at his effect on her, bending his body over hers to whisper in her ear. “Tell me. Are you sorry?” He breathed heavily. 

“No, sir.” Y/N panted after a few moments. “I knew it…” He stands up straight, regarding her vulnerable yet durable body. 

“You disappoint me, Y/L/N.” He slaps her ass and massages again. Y/N hissed before replying. “I’ll do better sir.” she declared sincerely.

“You promise?” Jungkook lifts his hand and watches as Y/N braces for the impact, watched as her body tensed and her pussy clenched greedily around nothing in awe. He savored the moment, spanking her again.

She hummed graciously at the delicious pain she was receiving from him. “Yes, sir. I promise.”  

“But you’re not sorry.” He clarified. “No sir.” 

“Why?” His brows furrowed in curiosity, gearing up to spank her again. “Because I love sucking your cock sir.” Y/N whined. He stopped his movements, taken aback and released a soft laugh. “Is that so?” 

“Yes sir.” Slap. “Tell me more Y/L/N.” he requested as he moved his left hand to her cunt and kept the right one on her ass. 

She closed her eyes and smiled, envisioning herself doing the activity, even licking her lips at the luscious memory of it. “I love how heavy it feels on my tongue. How you force me down on it and it hits the back of my throat.” She mused longingly. Y/N stops speaking and her body tenses as he inserts his thumb into her. 

“Keep going Y/L/N.” Jungkook’s tone made it clear that he would stop if she didn’t keep talking so she continued. 

“I love how thick it is, oh fuck.” She moans, digging her nails into the wood of the desk as he rubs two fingers against her clit and picks up the pace. “What else Y/L/N?” He breathed.  

She gulped in a breath, the sudden pressure taking her breath away. “How you make me gag on it when I’ve been bad and— mmmm, how you coat the inside of my mouth with all your cum when you’re done with me...How you check to make sure I swallowed all of it.” She giggled that last bit breathlessly, grinding back on his hand. 

“You’re such a dirty girl Y/L/N.” He moves in and out of her quickly while rubbing her clit perfectly in sync, pulling lewd moans from her until he suddenly removes them, delivering another hard smack to her backside. “Ah, fuck.” She squealed.

“But you’re right, you need to do better. Now count with me.” He ordered sternly. 

To which she immediately responded, “Yes sir.” 

Y/N counts every hit Jungkook delivers to her extremely tender ass dutifully with her fingernails creating crescents in the mahogany wood below her. By the time they reach twenty, his hand is as red as a tomato and Y/N is quite literally dripping onto the floor in front of him. He watched as her slick dripped out of her cunt from in between her spread legs and onto the floor, creating a tiny puddle of her pleasure. 

Jungkook is incredibly turned on by the sight and doesn’t think twice before taking his hard cock and shoving right into the assassin without warning. He didn’t wait for her to adjust, not that she needed to as you could literally mop the floor with her arousal. He just continued to hammer into her with complete abandon. 

It felt as if Y/N had forgotten how to breathe and her head shot up from the desk at the abrupt intrusion. “Ohhhhh shhhhhhit.” She cursed choppily with Jungkook’s hips slapping against her, making her ass sting more, but she loved it. 

He reached up to push her head down against the desk forcefully and held it there as he fucked into her. “You love the pain don’t you my little cock slut?” He growled out.

“Yes, sir. I love it. Thank you, Mr. Jeon.” She babbled dazedly into the desk. 

He pulls out of her then, leaving her moving back in search of him and clenching around nothing. “Please put it back in, Mr. Jeon.” She whimpered, reaching back for him, but she didn’t dare sit up for fear that he might think she was disobeying him.

He smiles and sits down in his chair, grabbing the hands that searched for him and guiding them to it’s arm rests. “Why don’t you come sit down and do it yourself?” 

She moves right away and backs up onto him. Bracing herself on the armrests, she hovers above him still facing the desk, grabs his cock and engulfs it in her wetness. They both groan wildly when he is fully seated inside of her and she begins to move up and down.

“Just like that baby, keep bouncing on my cock.” He muttered huskily, placing his hands on her hips. Looking down, he finally noticed the mess Y/N’s juices made on his suit pants. He should have pulled them all the way down, but damn if that wasn’t one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. “Goddamn. Who made you this fucking wet baby?” He grunted, pulling her down on him with fervid force. 

“You did, Mr. Jeon.” Y/N breathed heavily with her eyes closed in ecstasy. She could feel her orgasm finally approaching and she was chasing it with every move she made.

“You gonna cum baby?” Jungkook’s voice rasped in her ear. Y/N mentally cursed, already knowing what was coming to her. “Yes, I’m so close, Mr. Jeon.” She whined, trying to plead her case. 

It was no use. He swiftly pushed her off of him roughly and forced her down against the table once more. “No, no, no, please, please.” She begged and squirmed.

He only bent down to her level, gripping her chin in his hand. “You should know by now not to fuck with me Y/L/N. Now you need to be punished.” He says whispering sadistically in her ear. “Come on now.”

Jungkook gripped her by her forearms, dragging her up from the table and keeping them in place behind her back like a criminal. He guided her to the expansive wall length bookshelf on the far left of his office. Y/N knew just where they were going and somehow it prompted more wetness to come cascading down her already damp and sticky legs. 

He finds the handle on the inside of one of the shelves and pulls on the hidden door to reveal his playroom. The ceiling was a deep red while the walls were painted black with several tools for causing pain hanging on them all around the room. Several large contraptions used for pleasure and pain were scattered along the sides. But Jungkook’s favorite part of the room was the alaska king size mattress against the back wall which had a mirror of the same size attached to the ceiling above it. He loved that he could see every facet of Y/N’s squirming body just by looking up. 

“Stand here.” He directs her after stopping under the pair of leather handcuffs that dangled from the ceiling. He lifted and secured both her arms before focusing on her wanton eyes. “You comfortable, sweetheart?” He asked, grasping her chin firmly in his hands. 

“Yes, sir.” She replied truthfully. “Good.” He pecked her lips and began removing her boot heels. This created more distance between her and the floor. She was now truly dangling from the ceiling, the balls of her feet barely touching the floor.

Jungkook marvelled at his work and how after a while Y/N struggled to hold her weight against the cuffs. He then undressed quickly and made his way back to her, placing his lips on hers in a rough and passionate kiss that left Y/N breathless and moaning. 

She feels a hand thread it’s fingers through her hair and massage her scalp before it’s yanking her back and gripping tightly. She opened her eyes to see Jungkook, lustful and giddy smiling back at her. His hand slipped out of her hair, down her neck, chest and around her torso as he slowly circled her body. 

“I wish I could touch every piece of you at once.” He expressed sofly once he was behind her. Y/N breathed heavily with anticipation as his large hands gluided up her raised arms, down her waist, over her hips and ghosted over her plump, raw ass making her hiss. He chuckled at the sound letting his hands wander to her front and administering feather light circles to her swollen clit. Y/N twitched causing her body to sway uncontrollably. Jungkook stilled her, but continued his teasing much to Y/N’s dismay. But she didn’t dare say anything about it, she knew better and she wanted to cum so she stayed silent. 

He comes back around to face her and really takes his time appreciating her body. He kisses her lips, along her neck and sucks on her nipples just enough to have her squirming with more want for him. Suddenly he presses down on each of her sensitive nipples with two fingers and she squeaks, painful electricity shooting through her. 

He looked her over keenly. “God you’re so fucking beautiful...and you’re all mine to play with.” He kisses her biting her lip. “Who do you belong to?” His fierce tone demanded an answer.

“You, Mr. Jeon.” Y/N avowed, increasingly turned on and desperate to cum. 

“Who else?” His hands moved haltingly towards her core, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes flashed knowingly at him. “No one. Only you, Mr. Jeon.” 

Jungkook smiled contentedly before it disappeared little by little. He knew the words weren’t true and that she only said them to please him, only said them when they were intimate. But he couldn’t help how much he yearned to hear it, how much he wanted her to truly be his. This room is where they both get what they want no matter what. 

Y/N gets someone to dominate her and take care of her needs and Jungkook gets to live out his fantasies of her truly belonging solely to him. But he knew she would never go for that and that he would continue to toture himself this way. 

He tucks the thought away as he suddenly plunges two fingers inside of her. “And who does this pussy belong to?” He growled.

Y/N immediately clenches around them and lets out a cracked moan. “You, sir! This pussy is all yours. Oh fuck, ugh!” She cried out. At least Jungkook can be sure of that, he thought as he began curling his fingers into her at lightning speed. He holds her hips in place as he goes to work and Y/N can’t even think about the pain in her arms anymore once she feels her orgasm approaching. 

She grunts fervently as the pressure in her core builds and builds until she can’t stand it. She gives no warning, just allowing the glorious, all-consuming feeling to ignite her insides without a single sound. The only noise to be heard in the room was the sloshing of Jungkook’s fingers moving rapidly inside of her and the slap of his palm against her wet mound. 

Jungkook was so enraptured by her eyes rolling back into her head that he didn’t notice the clear liquid escaping from her cunt, getting all over his hand and dripping onto the floor. He brought her drooping head up so he could kiss her eagerly as he removed his fingers and stroked her clit like a wild man, getting more of her juices all over him. 

She never told him to stop as she was struck silent by the amount of pleasure she just experienced, but he removed his hand and continued kissing her writhing body hungrily. She was out of breath as she twitched and mewled against him, audibly shuddering from time to time. 

“Holy fucking shit. You’re just full of surprises huh?” He praised her with her face in his hands. Her only reaction was to smile tiredly. Her body was absolutely spent and still experiencing aftershocks. 

“Now let’s see if we can make you do that again.” he says, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist, thankfully taking the weight off of her arms. 

She finally speaks in a disoriented voice with her eyes half closed. “Yes, please sir.” 

Jungkook pushes inside of her, her cunt was now extremely wet and extremely tight due to that first squirting orgasm and he could tell he wouldn’t last long. He began speedily fucking into her, his hips slapping against her bruised and aching ass over and over again. 

Y/N was in another realm of euphoria, this one being better than the last. She didn’t even know that was possible. Her head was tilted all the way back and her eyes were closed, but they were focused. She was too far gone to even remember her own name at this point. 

“Please…” She mumbled. “Please what?” Jungkook grunted, his vigorous hips never changing pace. 

“Please, please make me cum, Mr. Jeon.” She begged through gritted teeth. “I want it so bad. Please give me your cum.” 

“Oh fuck, baby.” He moaned, thrusting impossibly faster, both of them close to the edge. 

She felt herself growing slightly over stimulated, but she was so close, chasing that high that made her see stars. She was concentrated on the feeling of Jungkook’s dick pumping in and out of her and hitting just the right spot against her walls. Jungkook felt a force resisting him from inside of Y/N and before he could grasp it he was being pushed out along with Y/N’s cum. 

A full fledged scream escaped from her throat that was elongated by Jungkook who swiped at her clit wildly to prolong her orgasm. He watches her twitch and moan helplessly before sliding back in and picking up where he left off.

“No, p-please sir, I can’t.” She choked out, her chest heaving with exhaustion. 

He gripped her face roughly in his hand and brought it close to his. “No, you wanted this dick so you gonna take this dick.” He seethed. “That’s what you came here for right?” 

“Yes sir.” She cried. Jungkook thrusted up into her half a dozen more times before he came inside of her, ripping yet another orgasm from Y/N. She felt tears slide down her face at the sheer force of energy in her veins. She saw white behind her eyes and her body burned all over in the best of ways. 

“Argh!” Jungkook growled boisterously as he came, holding her hips rigidly against his as he came down. When he looked up he could see Y/N practically falling asleep against him, yet her body was shaking slightly. He pulled out of her and released her from her restraints.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh?” He grinned, holding her tight as he let her down because he didn’t expect her to be able to hold herself up. He was proven right as she immediately slumped over his shoulder once her arms were free. The mafia leader carried her to the bed and gently laid her on her back, taking a moment to clean both of them off before he laid down too. 

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He whispered sweetly. Initially, the assassin didn’t realize he was speaking to her as she was quickly drifting off to sleep, but after a moment she assured him, “I’m fine Jungkook.”

[padfootagain]

The King And You (XII)

Part 12 : Heaven Sometimes

 Hi everyone! I'm back with a new chapter for this fic of mine! I know it's been forever since I updated it (and any fic for that matter) but my mental health is not great rn, so I'm struggling a little to write. Now, that being said, here is a new chapter and I hope you will enjoy it :)

Only fluff for this one! Tooth-rooting fluff all over the place! Enjoy ;)

Pairing: Caspian x Reader

Word Count: 2534

The light was perfect. One of the reasons why you loved your flat was the view from your window, down onto the busy streets and, in the distance, the skyscrapers tickling the sky. And this afternoon more than ever before the light that came in from your window was perfect. Yellowish and yet bright. Charged in dust just enough to create rays falling onto glistening rooftops. The sky still blue was starting to turn orange around the edges, a line along the horizon that became golden.

You let out a satisfied sigh as you mixed the pigments and the oil with a brush, studying the painting you had started a couple of hours before. You still had some work to do, but the shapes were beginning to change into what you wanted to represent, the buildings now for the most part recognizable by anyone who would look by your window.

A record was playing in your living room, an old hippie music filled with soft guitar ballads that breathed of sunshine and spoke of love. Soft, calm, sunny. The music felt like the light bathing the city that afternoon. And from time to time, the soft rhythms were disturbed by shuffling sounds coming from the couch behind you.

Caspian was sitting on your sofa, he was reading one of your books he had picked up from your shelf. But he didn't seem very interested in the story, as he spent most of his afternoon watching you.

The way you moved your pencil across the canvas, and the little frown that settled upon your brow as you focused on your task, the hues staining your fingers and your old t-shirt as you made a mess, the way the light danced across your features and changed the colour of your eyes as time ran by… Yes, his view from the sofa was much more interesting to him than the piece of fiction he had selected from your collection. A dreamy smile brightened his features as he studied you, as if he were in a museum admiring an ancient statue. Not only through your beauty was he reminded of the feeling, but by the peaceful feeling that settled across his chest too. This soft and quiet peace of mind and heart that creeps through anyone who looks at a piece of art and can't look away, wondering whose hands had carved the stone to create them, or bathed the brushes in the right hues. There is a ceremonial, almost holy feeling that hovers over art pieces of that kind, a sort of respect that both draws you in and pushes you away from their world. Caspian felt exactly this way as he stared at you, like he had found the piece that moved him to his bones and yet that was unreachable, a kind of beauty he longed for and echoed through his soul, and yet he would never deserve.

You knew he was staring at you, and had it been anyone else, you would have felt extremely uncomfortable if subjected to such scrutiny, but coming from Caspian, it merely brought warmth to your cheeks.

None of you were talking, hadn't uttered a word since lunch over four hours ago, but none of you were bothered by the silence that filled the room. It was a soft kind of silence, the comfortable one that could only appear in a room filled with people in love. Affection sometimes makes even nothingness beautiful.

A few days had passed since your confession in the park, and a few more remained before you would both travel to London, but the journey ahead of you was for now out of your thoughts. For now, all that mattered to both of you was to spend as much time as you could together. To the excitement and happiness that came along a new relationship slowly coming into blossom was added the knowledge that, no matter how happy the two of you were and how right being together felt, Caspian would soon be gone. Your days together being counted, you didn't want to waste away the time you had left together by worrying. Instead, you chose to live your love for him day by day, you would take whatever the wind would blow your way in the end. For now though, you painted the street you had drawn a thousand times before with a new softness showing in every shade you chose and every stroke of the brush that you applied. Love has a way of making art better, after all.

Caspian seemed to have chosen the same path as you, and had not mentioned again the trip to London, nor what would happen there. You were both locked in a bubble that you knew would explode soon, but protected you for now.

Eventually though, Caspian stood up and walked over to your spot in the room, wrapping his arms around your frame to press your back to his chest. He kissed gently the top of your head, before resting his cheek right above your ear. His gesture made you chuckle, a grin appearing across your lips.

"Do you need something? Or are you just being clingy?" you asked with a playful giggle.

"I guess I am clingy," Caspian admitted with a chuckle of his own that made his chest vibrate against you.

"You're a hopeless romantic, that's not surprising," you teased.

"Maybe I am. Or maybe you are turning me into one. Although, I should point out that so far, you have not protested against this part of me in the slightest, and have rather encouraged it, in fact."

"What are you insinuating? That I'm as sappy as you?"

"I'm afraid so, my love."

You hummed contently, forgetting about the subject of the conversation completely as you settled more comfortably into his embrace.

"I like it when you call me like that."

"My love?"

"Hmmm… yeah, I love it."

Caspian chuckled, kissing your temple.

"Who is being a hopeless romantic now, huh?"

"Oh, shut up!"

Caspian tried to fake outrage, but could only smile instead.

You checked your watch, for the first time in this afternoon, realizing at last that time had been flying by faster than you had realized. You heaved a sigh, but put down your brush.

"I'm gonna prepare dinner, what would you like?" you asked Caspian, who tightened his hold on you as a response.

"Wait for a little longer."

"Aren't you hungry? It's quite late."

"Yes, I am. But… If you move away, it will mean that the afternoon is over and… this moment is too nice to end just yet."

You rested your hand on his over your shoulder, intertwining your fingers with his and drawing silly patterns of stars and circles over his knuckles with your thumb.

"You're right. Five more minutes, then."

You closed your eyes, and were quite certain that you had fallen asleep when Caspian moved away from you, although not without placing one last chaste and tender kiss on the side of your head. He walked over to your shelves filled with books, and seemed to be bruising across your collection. You guessed that the one he had picked earlier really wasn't to his taste, and the thought made you chuckle as you shook tenderly your head at him. You left him to his search for a better story to get lost into in favour of preparing a meal, your stomach now painful with hunger. You were almost done when Caspian came to join you in the kitchen, helping you to set up the table.

"Did you find an interesting book?" you asked as you brought the pasta dish you had prepared to your tiny table.

A mischievous and yet saddened smile appeared on Caspian's lips.

"You can say that," he elusively answered.

He was standing by the table, and by now you were used to having him not sit down before you. Some kind of extra-politeness, you guessed. He pulled the chair for you when you walked to your side of the table, and you thanked him with an amused smile while he was sitting down himself.

"Why so mysterious?" you insisted. "What book did you get?"

"Oh… huh… something about… robots? It's some kind of… machine, that… lives? Very strange but… interesting."

You shook your head at him, surprised that he would be curious about something so different from the world he knew. But then, he kept on surprising you a little more every day.

Caspian glanced at the clock up on your yellow wall, that seemed to glimmer in gold as the sun was setting, ending its course beyond the tall buildings of New York City. He heaved a sigh before speaking again.

"I should go back to Agatha's after diner, it will be quite late already by then."

"Oh… you want to go back there?"

Even if you had spent most of your time together for the past few days, Caspian had always spent the night at Agatha's, and you were fine with that. After all, it had been but a few days since your kiss in Central Park, and a few weeks since the two of you had met. And despite your time together being limited, you didn't want to rush into things either. You wanted to take things slow, wanted to simply enjoy the moments you had with him.

And maybe, despite how abundantly clear Caspian had been, there was a little part of you that still held to the hope that maybe all of this was just a misunderstanding, that perhaps Narnia, despite the odds, wasn't real at all. And then, if that was the case, Caspian wouldn't have to leave.

So you wanted to take things slow, but still, things were going so well with him, and there wasn't any denying that your new boyfriend was extremely attractive. And maybe you were ready to do a little bit more than hugging him and talking with him for hours.

Meanwhile, Caspian stared at you with a puzzled expression.

"Well… I hardly have any other place to stay."

"You… you could… stay here," you hesitantly stuttered.

Caspian considered your offer for a moment. He did want to spend more time with you, but your sofa was really too uncomfortable, and he knew he wouldn't be able to get any sleep if he had to settle there for the night. And that was even without mentioning that the knowledge of having you sleeping down the hall would make it impossible for his mind to calm down enough to succumb to slumber.

He offered you a warm smile, a little teasing, with one end of his mouth turned upright and an amused glimmer shining in his brown, almost black eyes.

"Thank you for your offer. I do have to admit that it is tempting, we would spend more time together this way. But – and I hope you don't take this remark badly – your sofa is way too uncomfortable for me to stay there all night."

He was expecting you to laugh, maybe to shyly get a gulp of your water to hide this divine smile of yours. But you didn't. Instead, you were frowning at him, as if you didn't understand what he meant.

"The sofa? Why would you spend the night on the sofa?"

It was his turn to look at you with puzzled eyes.

"Well… where else would I sleep?"

"I meant… I meant to ask you if you wanted to stay the night… with me…"

It's only by the look in your eyes that he finally understood what you truly meant. And his reaction was to fiercely blush, all the way up to the tip of his ears.

"Oh… I… I…"

"It's okay if you don't want to or… if you're not attracted to me or…"

You let your sentence suspended in mid-air to hover over the room. You were all shy now, closing yourself from him, and Caspian could recognize the signs of your uneasiness. Maybe he wasn't reacting to this the way he should…

"I… I can't…"

He took a deep breath, remembering that you were from another world. And so, he adopted a different attitude.

"Is it normal in your world? To… be this… intimate before… marriage?"

You frowned at him again, but seemed to make the same realization too that, despite the two of you getting along so well and understanding each other to such a degree, you were not from the same world, and your two societies worked differently.

"Yeah, it is… not… for you?" you asked back.

"No. No, it isn't."

"Oh…"

"It… it would be… disrespectful if I…"

"I understand. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

"It's okay. I… I just… I don't know…"

"Caspian, you don't have to justify yourself. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable."

You seemed to be the one who was uncomfortable then though, and you stood up to clean your plate even if you hadn't finished your dish. Caspian followed suit though, not allowing you to simply drop the subject and flee so easily.

"Y/N… I…"

"It's okay, Caspian. I promise you, it's okay. I just… I guess I feel a little stupid to have offered to take a… a new step when it's not something your people does."

You seemed fragile then, your confidence quite shaken. Caspian heaved a sigh, forcing you to stop cleaning your plate as he took your wet hands in his.

"It is not our way. But I… I want you to know that… I… you are beautiful, Y/N. This is not the problem, here. But I was raised with the idea that being this intimate with a woman one is not married to is disrespectful. And disrespecting you is the last thing I want to do."

You nodded, notably relaxing, and when you looked at him again, there was a spark of mischief shining in your gaze.

"I understand. And I would never want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable or disrespectful to you. But… please, tell me your people don't condemn cuddling, because I love your hugs too much to give up on them."

Caspian let out a laugh, although he was blushing fiercely once more. He pulled you closer to him, capturing you in this brown stare of his you had quickly learnt to recognize like home.

"I cannot say that it would be… accepted without a few rumours and judging glances but… I will happily pay that price. To be honest, I could not resist holding you even if I wanted to."

You giggled in the most adorable of ways, hiding your face in his shoulder.

And as he breathed in the scent of your shampoo, sugary and delicate that reminded him of afternoons spent walking through the gardens, with the air filled with the fragrance of wildflowers, Caspian knew that he wouldn't have any rest tonight. How could he waste any minute he could spend with you?

His back would kill him the next day, but a few hours on your uncomfortable sofa were a small price to pay to have a chance to hold you close.

[petite-ely]

Afraid // JJ Maybank

four - siblings querelle

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem routledge! reader

Warnings: bad language (who’s surprised at this point), mention of fighting and getting beat up, mention of blood, underage drinking, mention of gun and violence, mention of drowning, mention of smoking, fear of losing sibling, mention of death, I think that’s it?? Tell me if I missed something

Description: after a rough day, y/n has fun during a kegger on the boneyard, but John B doesn’t seem to like it.

A/n: here it is! Sorry for the wait school started this week and I was really busy, but yeah, hope you enjoy!! :)

previously next

Afraid masterlist

gif by @toesure

Song recommendation

It was a couple of hours later, the sun was starting to set, creating and beautiful golden light on the boneyard. The kegger was roaring. You could see Pogues dancing around and enjoying the music, tourons flirting with locals and even some Kooks were there.

“Chug it chug it chug it.” Y/n downed her red solo cup full of beer, throwing it at JJ once it was empty, a small giggle escaping her mouth. “Yeah! You go y/n!” The blond exclaimed cheerfully.

John B shook his head disapprovingly at his sister’s action.

“what?” Y/n stared back at him. “It was a long day. Can’t I have some fun once in a while? Or is that something you can’t possibly wrap your mind around?” he crossed his arms, a stern look on his face.

“Why are you acting this way? I’m just trying, to look out for you, y/n/n.”

She grunted at his words, rolling her eyes at the same time. “Well, don’t. You can’t just boss me around JB, you’re not my dad.”

John B’s expression turned sour at the mention of his dad. “Whatever.” He turned around and started to walk away. “If you wanna act reckless and irresponsible, I don’t care. I’m not stopping you, but don’t come back to me if ever you get in trouble. I won’t be there for you.”

“Damn, he’s really mad uh?” JJ now stood by the girl’s side, holding two cups full of beer. “What did you do, stab him in the back?” she scoffed “Well, he sure acts like it, all I did was have a little fun. Ugh he’s such vibe killer.”

“Give me that,” she took one of the cup out of JJ’s hand and swallowed the content of it in a matter of seconds.

“Whoa,” he put his hand on the girl’s back “are you good?“ “I’m wonderful, couldn’t be better.” JJ frowned.

“Are you sure? You’re not acting like your usual self.” Y/N scoffed. “Just because I’m having a beer or two doesn’t mean I’m about to have a mental breakdown J. Trust me I’m alright.”

“Look I know sometimes we all drink together, and once in a while you and I smoke a joint for fun, but this-” he motioned to her, or rather the way she was acting “-this isn’t you y/n.”

The girl bit her lip harshly, as she thought of what to say next. He was right, this wasn’t her. During keggers, y/n would usually spend her nights sitting on a log by the bonfire (when there was one). She would chat with Kie and some other friends about various subjects like environmental issues, astrology and other such things.

Sometimes she would stay silent and admire the shapes that formed the fire, listening to the conversations around her whilst making up poems in her mind. Other times, when she felt a little braver, she’d go on and talk with a cute touron that was there for the night (she might end up kissing them but nothing more than that). On some nights, she’d just take Kiara’s hand and drag her away giggling like a little child. The two of them would just dance together to the music playing in the background, as if they were the only ones standing on the beach.

On rarer occasions, she’d just slip away from the party and climb to the highest place she could think of, whether it was a hill, a tree or a rooftop. She’d just sit down somewhere comfortable and silently admire the constellations dancing for her. (Sometimes she’d bring one of the pogues with her and they would play some soft music and talk about anything and everything). Those were always the best nights.

Since the beginning of the party, y/n had acted like a total stranger. She had danced, yeah but with people she didn’t know and she had drank, a lot. She had actually volunteered to participate in some stupid drinking game, a thing she had criticized many times before. JJ enjoyed it in the beginning. Watching her get out of her shell, being friendly and mixing with the crowd. But right now, he didn’t know the person standing in front of him. Y/n was soft and kind (although sometimes she used a pretty rough vocabulary) and also smart and funny. Not reckless, insensitive, spontaneous or careless.

Why was she acting this way?

Truth is, y/n didn’t completely know the reason for her behaviour. She has had a long day, that was part of it (and also a rough year). She wanted to forget for one night, yeah that was it. Forget about her dad, forget all her problems, forget who she was. It was like she put on this mask and became a totally different person for the night. She just wanted to have fun and act crazy for this one night. After that she’d go back to being her normal self. After all, she was allowed to have fun.

She wiped the small trickle of blood that ran down her lip. “You’re right,” she agreed. “This isn’t me. But I- I don’t want to be me for the night. I don’t want to worry and think about all the sad tragedies of life. I wanna have fun. I want to get drunk and dance and do some stupid things.” She looked at him directly in the eyes, her gaze softening at the sight. “ I promise that tomorrow, I’ll be me again.”

JJ removed his hand from her back and pulled gently at his blond locks. “Alright. I just hope you won’t regret it all tomorrow.” He said, before disappearing in th crowd.

What’s it all worth if I don’t regret it just a little bit? She thought.

Y/n slipped away into the crowd too, looking around her for Kie. The sun had fully set now, making it a bit harder for her to see through the mass of bodies all stuck to one another. Finally, after a long five minutes of looking (though it felt like much more), her eyes landed on her curly headed friend, sitting on a large piece of wood.

“Hey cutie.” She sat down beside the brunette. “Hey girlie.”

“How are you doing?” Asked Kie, taking a sip out of her reusable cup half full of beer (y/n actually had a matching one, but forgot it back at the château). “Oh, I’m just uh peachy, I’m just peachy.” y/n said with a small laugh, happiness dripping off her words like sweet honey.

Kie took a second to look at her friend. She had the most ridiculous grin slapped on her face, like a five year old on a sugar rush. Her cheeks were flushed pink and so was the tip of her nose. (It looked very adorable.)

“Are you drunk?” Y/n giggled. “Maybe just a little bit.”

To be honest she didn’t remember the last time she had gotten drunk. It felt so far away. She felt warm and fuzzy inside and like nothing could hurt her. Thiose were all signs that she was slowly getting more and more intoxicated by the alcohol she was drinking.

“So,” she booped the tip of Kiara’s nose. “What’s with you and my brother. Do you like him perhaps?” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“Not the way you think.” “Uh?”

“I mean, John B’s very cute and kind and all, and I love and care about him, but the same way you do. Like a brother. I don’t see him as nothing more than that.” y/n nodded.

“What about JJ?” Kiara nudged the y/h/c girl. “Did you finally tell him?”

“Are you crazy?! No! I’m not that drunk,” y/n responded loudly. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me that way. He seemed so-” she took a small pause to search for the right word. “he seemed disappointed in me or something when we talked earlier.”

“Why? What makes you-”

Kiara was cut off by some shouting and screams being heard further away on the beach. A fight was about to break. She grabbed her friend by the arm. “Let’s go see.”

The girls arrived to see John B and Topper facing each other with threatening expressions, surrounded by a circle of curious people who only wanted to see them hurting the other one.

Topper Thornton? When did he get there ? And if he’s here that means that- y/n stopped her thoughts as her eyes landed on the blonde girl, watching her boyfriend with a scared look on her face. Sarah Cameron, Kook Princess.

“Dirty pogues!” John B shoved the kook harshly earning a chorus of exclaimation from the crowd gathering around them.

“Woah!” The two of them were circling each other, getting dangerously close to the water.

“John B!” Pope yelled at his friend. “We’re supposed to be incognito remember?”

“Babe, babe, babe, babe!” Sarah approached them, trying to stop her boyfriend from hitting the pogue.

Topper hit John B first, the impact sending him down in the water. Y/n quickly sobered up from the slightly intoxicated state she was in at the sight of her brother getting beat up. It was almost as if she could feel the hit on her own body.

“Guys! Guys! Chill!” Topper kicked John B right in the sides as he was trying to get up, sending him back down into the salty water.

“Hey John B, don’t make me down you like your old man, alright?!”

Y/n’s blood boiled in her veins, her face turning red with rage. She was so angry. First he had insulted her brother, and then hurt him but that wasn’t enough for him. He wasn’t satisfied. He had to mention their father. That was like putting alcohol right into a fresh wound. How could he do such a thing? At this point, y/n was basically fuming, she couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“You take that back you brainless piece of shit!” She launched herself into the fight, not caring whether she’d get hurt or not.

“Y/n, no!”

She jumped on Topper’s back, in hope of sending him down and make him stop hurting her brother anymore. She was able to strike him a couple of times right in the jaw, before he pushed her off violently, sending her flying down and hit the ground with a loud thud. She was just about to get back in the fight when two strong arms dragged her away.

“Let go of me!” She yelled, squirming to get away from Pope’s grip.

“As much as I would like to see you take him down, y/n/n,” said the Heyward boy, still holding her firmly, “John B would kill me if I didn’t stop you.”

Y/n sighed loudly and stopped trying to get away from her friend’s hold on her. She watched closely as John B pushed Topper right in the water and winced every time he got hit.

“Stop you guys!” yelled Kie.

They were both hitting each other without taking a break, making small grunts and groans at the same time. It was getting so violent, so fast. JB pushed Topper in the ocean again.

“Come on Topper! Come on!” He screamed with rage before going back into the fight.

“John B please stop!” y/n pleaded. The crowd was cheering as the fight went on, only encouraging the two teens to continue hurting one another.

Y/n gasped as John B went flying backwards into the water. They were in a much deeper part now and Topper was holding him down into the water. He was gonna drown.

“Topper! Topper, stop! No!” Sarah screamed.

“He’s gonna drown him!” Pope’s voice shaking slight in fear.

Tears were filling the Routledge girl’s eyes and sliding down her cheeks. She was no longer angry but so frightened. Her brother had his head underwater, not breathing for more than half a minute. He was gonna drown, he was gonna die too and she’d be alone, for good now. She couldn’t do it without him, no she couldn’t. She had lived all her life with him by her side, her best memories were spent with him. She couldn’t do it alone. She needed him.

“Topper, please. Let him go!” she was so desperate at this point. She was practically begging him for mercy. She didn’t even bother hiding the despair and concern in her voice. Her tears were crashing on the sand. She was breathless, panting even, the world spinning around her. It was like she was the one underwater. Like she could feel exactly what her brother was feeling.

JJ took a look at her and then at John B, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest at the sight of both of them. He had to do something. He couldn’t let Topper kill his best friend. He hurried to find his backpack, taking the black object he had stolen previously that day.

He held the gun against Topper’s temple, the safety releasing a clicking noise. “Yeah, you know what that is. Your move brisky!” JJ spat, his face almost purple with fury.

Y/n’s hand went to her mouth. JJ brought the gun and he was holding it at Topper’s head. She couldn’t believe it. The sight of the firearm, barely visible but still slightly glistening under the moonlight, was enough to send shivers ripple along her back. She didn’t like seeing JJ hold it this way, with so much pride in his eyes, like it brought him so much power (though it kinda did).

He wielded it as though it was something that protected him against every possible danger. Like he was invincible. It was almost sickening. He shouldn’t be this proud, this brave while holding it. It was a deadly arm, he should’ve been just as scared as she was. What if he hurted someone? Or himself? What if he killed someone? Y/n almost regurgitated the entire content of her stomach at the thought.

“JJ, no.” She had wanted to shout, but her voice came out softly, barely louder than a whisper.

People were now running away, hurrying to their car to get away from the crazy maniac with a gun. Y/n was paralyzed with fear. She wanted to move, to run and throw the stupid gun in th ocean, but it was like her feet were glued to the ground.

“JJ put the gun down!”

“Did you say something princess?” JJ turned his head to Sarah, his hands still holding the firearm against Topper’s head.

“We’re good. We’re good.” Topper let go of John B’s body, his hand raised up in surrender.

“Kie can you check your psycho friend, please?” Sarah spoke, making Kiara glare at her with hatred.

“John B!” y/n rushed to her brother, pushing everyone that came in her way. She didn’t care about her clothes which were getting more and more soaked with every deacons she spent in the cold waves. She offered him her hand, helping him get up and then quickly pulling him into a tight hug.

“Thank god your okay.” She let go of him.

John coughed intensely for what seemed like an eternity, the three thousand liters of water he had swallowed coming out of his mouth at the same time. Y/n looked at him worryingly, her stomach still bubbling with anxiety.

One of his eye was starting to swell, a deep red colour surrounding it. He would have to ice it if he didn’t want it to turn purple. His nose was also bleeding, the blood flowing down and dripping on his lips. Y/n wiped the blood away with her palm and pulled him in an other hug, once he had caught his breath a little more.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if you,” she choked on her words, “if you didn’t make it.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he grabbed her by the shoulders, still slightly panting. “I’m alright, little bug, I’m alright. My eye might be turning blue and my body might hurt, but I’m still alive aren’t I? I’m still here.” he reassured.

Y/n let out a small smile. She was still incredibly worried for her brother. He was hurt, but he was alive, that was good. Now all she wanted was to go back home and help him take care of his wounds.

“Okay every one listen up!” y/n flinched at JJ’s voice. He was so angry, it almost scared her. “Get the hell off of our side of the island!”

He fired the gun twice in the air, the sound echoing on the almost empty beach. Y/n almost fell back in surprise, letting go of her brother at the same time. The sound was ringing in her ear, her hands trembling. Why was he doing that?

She had acted so carelessly at the beginning of the night that she became a stranger in JJ’s eyes. But now, he was the one acting crazy and stupidly. It was not uncommon for JJ to be reckless but this? No, that wasn’t him.

Who was that person standing in front of her?

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[liibrii]

Chapter 2: Tattered��

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Series Masterpost || Ch. 1

wc: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, depression.

a/n: I don’t really have anything to say other than I’m enjoying writing for Aran so much. if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! 

Aran knows people don't always mean what they say.  Even he had done it before and it destroyed a few of his relationships. Knowing that doesn't make your words hurt any less.

He tries to convince himself you didn't really mean it, still a part of him wonders if that's how you really feel. How you've always felt. For all those years he was assured of your friendship and now you've pulled the rug from under his feet. None of your words align with the image in his head. Perhaps you've never been the person he remembers. The you in his mind is just that, a memory, a perfect picture he created from bits and pieces he chose. Has he truly always seen only what he wanted to see?

Thoughts of you run through his mind as he stands on the back line. One more serve before he wraps up. Bam.

To always see good in people is what he was thought growing up and what he still tries to do to this day, even if years had thought him people aren't only their good sides. He always thought of you only at your best and failed to even get to know you properly. What kind of friend does that? You're in pain and he can't help because he has no idea where the wounds are. He has no idea where to look for them because he refused to see. 

Perhaps he is a terrible friend after all.

Bam. The ball gets caught in the net and falls. Aran watches it roll away before picking up another. He breathes deeply. It's all about focus, he reminds himself, even when his mind wants to slip he has to remain focused.

All of his teammates have left already. Home, to their partners, their families. What will he return home to? An empty apartment with take-out he'll eat on the couch. Alone. Maybe he should get a pet. But when will he have time to care for it?

Bam.

He should call home. Check on his friends. Maybe if he had checked on you more often then-

Bam.

What use is pondering over what could've been? With each serve his palm aches more, his muscles already sore from practice but he doesn't want to stop yet. One more.

“There's a difference between training hard and overdoing it, you know?“

Perhaps life is just memories of days long gone sipping into present.

When he turns to face you uneasiness rises in him. Any other time he'd be elated to see you. Now even words to greet you with escape him. You come closer, shoes softly squeaking on the gym's floor. “Doorman let me in. After a little bit of convincing.“

“Really?“

“No, I slipped past while his back was turned. How long are you planning on staying? I saw all of your teammates leave already.“

Aran turns the ball in his hands. It's becoming slippery from all the sweat. He can't bring himself to look you in the eyes. “My serves are gettin' sloppy. I need more practice.“

Bam.

You stay where you are, watching and fiddling with the strap of your bag, until you can't bear the silence anymore and speak up. “Aran, I actually wanted to talk to you. About you know... what I said.“

“T's okay. I know ya didn't mean it.“

“I did.“ Your voice eerily echoes in the otherwise empty gym. “As shitty as it is, it's how I felt.“ You're eyes stay fixed on the floor. “I'm sorry.“

Aran catches the ball he just threw in the air for another jump serve. When he looks over at you you're still intently focused on your shoelaces, gripping the strap of the bag so tight your knuckles turned white. Why are you beating yourself up so much? If you feel something, you feel it. What reason for it do you need to have? Knowing how you felt hurts, that much he can't deny. And yet he can't hold it against you.

He puts the ball on the top of your head, just like boys used to do back in high school to annoy you. “If ya really insist on apologisin' then I guess I have no other choice but to forgive ya.”

As his words sink in you shyly glance at him. “You sure?“

“'Course I am,“ smiles Aran, balancing the ball so it doesn't roll from the top of your head.

“You're not angry? At me?“

He takes the ball and starts throwing it from one hand to another. “Not really. Very surprised. A little hurt.“

“I'm sorry-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know,“ he cuts you off. “Set for me and we'll call it even.”

“Aran, my sets are in no way near the level you're used to.“

“So?“ he asks already walking over to fetch the ball cart. “Ya still remember where to stand, right?“ he teases, cackling softly when you roll your eyes and take off your bag and jacket, all while trying to hide a smile creeping on your lips.

It takes a few tries for you to remember how to make an overhand set. Aran's filled with giddy warmth when you manage to send the ball in the right position for him to spike it over the net. Perhaps all those lessons with Atsumu years ago didn't go to waste after all. Your little victory jump makes him burst into laughter and he rewards you with a high five.

It really is an echo of history.

Your skills are rusty, something that makes you apologise profusely every time you mess up, even after he reassures you he doesn't mind, and ruffles your hair.

With each set you relax more, till every smile and laugh seem sincere. Only now Aran realises how he missed this carefree side of you. Time always flies too fast when you're around and soon enough, out of breath and wiping the drops of sweat from your forehead, you call an end of this individual practice.

He hurries with showering and changing into fresh clothes, not wanting to leave you waiting for too long, especially since you have morning lessons tomorrow. He buys you a drink from the vending machine. It's not much, but staying hydrated is important, he tells you when you tease him about it.

“You know, that brought back a lot of memories,“ you say while walking to the train station, then poke his shoulder. “Thanks.“ The smile dancing over your lips makes his cheeks warm up. You glance over to the sky hiding behind a golden halo that city lights cast over the rooftops. “Do you ever miss Hyogo?“

“Sometimes.“

“I miss the stars.“ You kick a small stone from your path. “You've become quite a star too you know. With all the fans and attention I really wonder, do you get lonely?”

Your question catches him off guard. “I'm too busy to get lonely,“ he lies.

“I get lonely sometimes,“ your eyes still search for a glimmer of a distant star. “And tired. Some days I just want to sleep all day. Do you ever get the urge to do that? Skip practice and stay in bed?“

“No. If I skipped practice how will I become better?”

You purse your lips and nod. “That's why you're a professional athlete and I'm just trying to figure out why I have to separate blue and red laundry.“

“Those are two very different things.“

“Both are just some pieces of cloth. Why do I have to separate them? If they got problems with each other they should grow up and talk it out.” 

That’s not what he meant, but your slight annoyance over technicalities of doing laundry still makes him laugh.

In the coming days Aran checks his phone every chance he gets, just to see if you already wrote back. No matter what you talk about he wants to hear it; be it about your day or the delivery man being late with your order. His teammates notice and tease him about it yet he denies you're anything more than just a friend, and they exchange knowing looks when his back is turned. Even if his entire body heats up at the sole mention of your name Aran isn't ready to admit to himself, let alone others, he wants you to be more.

Not when he isn't sure if his feelings for you are being muddled by his memories.

That Tuesday you grab a dinner together that turns into a late night walk through the streets. It's not a date, Aran keeps reminding himself. It's just two friends hanging out as you've done a thousand times before. So why is his heart threatening to thump it's way out of his chest?

After that night weekly hanging out with you becomes a regular occurrence. Sometimes you go out to eat, sometimes you drag him along when you go shopping, saying he has a good eye for colour combinations. It has nothing to do with the fact he buys you ice cream every time. Some days you come to his place to play video games or watch movies. Seeing his favourite series making you laugh warms his heart.

As you become more comfortable around him your facade slowly, bit by bit, starts to crumble. He's scared to see what lies beneath yet at the same time he wishes it would break already. He can't help you if he doesn't know, can he?

Whatever is troubling you he wishes you'd trust him enough to confide in him. In the back of his mind lingers the question he's too scared too ask.

Does Kita know what's on your mind? Do you still talk to him?

You used to be close to the team. The one they relied on. The one who so lovingly tapped their fingers before each game. Do they know your eyes are puffy? Do they know every sleepless night that goes by makes the dark circles under your eyes harder to hide? Do they know his heart breaks every time he sees the tremble of your lips when you force a smile?

No matter how bad he wants to hold you, tell you it's going to be okay, the mere thought of reaching out paralyses him.

What if you don't want his help?

If you did, you would've asked already, right? Not even practice can stop him from thinking about you. His disappointment grows a little when he sees no new messages. Perhaps you don't want to talk to him after all.

He's just leaving the gym when his phone lights up and seeing it's your name makes his heart flutter. He eagerly picks up. “Hi!“

“H-hey.“ Already in the first word the strain in your voice is apparent. “Um, am I interrupting you?“

“No, of course not. I just finished with practice. What's up?“

“I-“ He hears you take a deep breath. “Um, I don't, I don't feel so good...“ Your next words are almost a whisper. “Could I come over?“

“'Course ya can come over. I'll be home in about an hour.“

By the time he arrives you're already there, standing by the entrance nervously stepping from one leg to another. You give a shy wave when he approaches. He noticed you've been acting weirdly sheepish around him and he's not used to it. You're friends. What's making you so nervous?

You trail behind him, hands tucked deep in your pockets. You don't even pull them out when taking your shoes off.

“Tea?“ he offers when you make your way towards the sofa.

“Sure,“ you nod, sitting and tightly hugging a pillow. “Sorry about that,“ you say when he joins you with two cups of tea, “I just... bad day, you know? Didn't want to be alone.“

With a smile he assures you it's no problem. You're welcome to come by whenever you want.

You tell him about college, about work. “Boss is a shit bag,“ you complain. The working hours make you late for your lessons and even professors are getting fed up with you always being late. Not to mention your classmates aren't keen on lending you notes to copy.

It's all too much, you say, work, college, the pressure of everyone's expectations. Your fellow students give you funny looks sometimes, you tell him. It's only a few years but you're still older than them, at the age where your parents are asking when you are going to settle down. Have children. Get a stable job. Well how could you when you haven't even gotten your degree yet? It all makes you feel like a failure.

And yet something tells Aran that's not why you're here. Maybe it's the nervous fumbling with the hem of your clothes. Maybe it's because you don't look at him at all. A silence falls on you as you sip your tea. Aran considers asking out right but you gather the courage before he does.

“Shin called.“  

“Ah.“ That's all he manages to say.

“He's doing good, in case you're wondering. He asked if we have any plans on visiting any time soon.“ Your eyes skim over his face. “That would be nice, don't you think?“

Aran forces a smile. “Sounds great.“ Once again your words threaten to shake the ground he stands on. All he hears is 'seeing Shin would be nice'. His grip on the cup tightens and he puts it away before he'd crack it.

“Do ya miss him?“ he asks, words coming out more choked up than he intended. He clears his throat when he leans back on the couch's backrest.

You think over his question. “I miss my best friend.“

He asks. Even if he doesn't want to know the answer, he asks. “Will you get back with him?“

“No.“ Your answer is quiet, but firm. You readjust yourself to lean on the backrest, facing him, the pillow still tightly squeezed in your grip. “Shin is a great guy just... not the right for me. Wasn't easy to accept but that's how it is.“ You fumble with the thread sticking out from the stitch. “I wasn't good for him, you know?“ you quietly continue. “He protected me since we were kids but at some point it all just... fizzled I guess. I was so used of always being by his side the thought of living without him terrified me. He was that stability I craved. For a long time I believed he would give me a goal in life, or something similar.“ You chuckle. “Try getting through seventeen-year-old-me's head that's not how relationships work. I knew we wouldn't work out. But I stayed because I was selfish and stupid... and scared. I think he knew. And it started to take a toll on him. So I left before he'd break.“ Tears start forming in your eyes. “Shin could never understand why I'm so sad without a reason... Maybe if I left sooner... well, it doesn't matter now.“

“Ya can still go back,“ hearing his own words shatters Aran's heart, “once ya feel better.“

The brief laugh you give almost sounds like a sob. “Can I?“ You forcefully wipe the tears away. “Even if I could it wouldn't be the same as I remember now. It's hard to explain but somehow, what’s in your memories is always better than reality. Know what I mean?“

He knows. Memory is the thief of future.

The lump in his throat grows larger, heavier as he watches you try to hide tears starting to run down your cheeks. He's lost, not knowing what else to do but to pull you closer, tucking your head under his chin. He hugs you and softly caresses your back. “It's alright,“ he whispers when you apologise through sobs and tears. He keeps repeating, it's alright. What else could he possibly say?

You relax in his arms and your sobs slowly turn to muffled sniffles. Aran only wishes you feel safe in his arms, your head leaning on his shoulder, your arms shyly wrapping around his middle. It's not the most comfortable position but he's to scared to readjust. He hears your hitched breathing sync with his own as he runs his hands up and down your back and, exhausted from your crying, you're soon fast asleep.

Perhaps for the first time in his life Aran's starting to really understand you. It pains him, knowing your struggles. You, who were always so full of light, you who were the pillar, tall and unyielding, one he could always lean onto. How memories managed to muddle his perception of you so much is beyond him. The only thing he can do is promise himself to never let them deceive him again. After all, who needs memories?

He messages you more frequently. Not too frequently, he doesn't want to appear nosy or pushy. Just often enough to let you know he's there for you if you need him.

You've been busier with college lately, so weekly hang outs turn to late night phone calls. Hearing your voice feels like a refreshing cool breeze on these hot summer nights.

He collapses in his bed, only half listening to your rambling on about one of the professors. He didn't catch her name.

“Aran? You still there?“

“Yeah, I'm still here. T's been a long day, t's all.“

He hears you hum and he can imagine the way you lean your head to the side. “Coach in a bad mood?“

“Not really. I'm just not feelin' my best. Couldn't sync with Aritsura's sets. But ya know, more practice 's all we need. How was your day?“ he asks, forgetting you just told him a few minutes ago.

“It was alright,“ you say instead of repeating what you already told him. “Actually, I wanted to apologise. About last time. I shouldn't have dumped all my problems on you.“

“How many times do I need to repeat it's okay. I'm here for ya.“

“Still. I'm sorry. It was a lot. I... I don't want to be a burden.“

His brows furrow. How many times does he have to repeat it? Why don't you get it? “Yer not.“ Your low chuckle makes him irritated . “I mean it. If ya ever need to talk just say, alright?“

“Yeah, yeah I will... Thank you. It's just that... I don't want to ruin this friendship too. That's all. Tell me when I become too much. Please.“

What are you talking about? “Whatever is on yer mind I promise I can handle it.“

“Can you? So you not being able to play your best has nothing to do with me dumping all my problems on you?“

Something in the way you say those words pushes the wrong button. He's only trying to be here for you, why can't you see that? “I don't care enough to let it impact me.“ Fuck. Even before the final word leaves his mouth he knows it came out wrong. “I'm sorry, fuck, y/n, I didn't mean it like that-“

“It's okay,“ you interrupt. “You're right.“

“I'm-“

“Get some sleep Aran. You have practice tomorrow. G' night.“ You end the call before he gets the chance to say goodbye.

Fuck.

Ch. 3: In the light, your name

Tags: @rosecaffelatte, @aonenthusiast

[royalstorm]

better off   *   xiaoqing // ; xiao x keqing //

content warning : pda, negative thought patterns

Xiao's infatuation is not a slow boil. His heartbreak is.

It's a realization that had dawned on him months ago. He vowed to himself to keep it tucked away, on the backburner left to simmer. To worry about an uncertain future would be to neglect the demands of the present, is what he told himself. He had believed it. He had been pretty convincing back then.

Then, last week...November 20.

In the air that day was a hum of excitement, one that persisted in spite of his itching ears. The people amongst him, too—grinning, giggling, resonating on a frequency that he was tone deaf to.

Even the thrumming in his own chest was akin to a death march.

Her voice had been his only saving grace—the symphony stringing away con brio, above all the noise. And when he offered her his present — clumsily wrapped, barely held together with a ribbon — she graced him with a "thank you" that silenced the discontent in his mind — the darkness in his heart — if only for a moment.

But that same night, the realization Xiao had forced down all those months ago resurfaced, bubbling with a vengeance. How he wished he had just rested, instead of patrolling where he had not been needed. Maybe then, he wouldn't have had to stand testament to the tragedy he came upon on Mt. Tianheng. It was a simple tragedy, but a tragedy nevertheless.

Raining down on him, like a hailstorm, were three eagles — all skewered by a singular, steely arrow.

It was when they reached ground zero — nothing short of battered, bloody feathers at his feet — that it was he who'd taken a shot to the chest.

Memento mori.

"Remember you must die."

Remember she must die.

Flash forward to the adeptus' current state: a state of motion. Running. Practically flying. For the past thousand or so years, all he knew to do was stay still. Physically, he was and continues to be on the move. Evil never sleeps, after all.

But spiritually and emotionally, where it truly mattered, he had been complacent: to the shifting sands, to the rising tides, to the erosion of Liyue's many mountain ranges.

It's useless, he chides himself. A loud thwack! punctures the air as he descends, polearm first, from a rooftop to the cobblestone ground below. He rises from his squat form to better regard his surroundings.

To think that the esteemed Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing would willingly live somewhere ordinary...remote, even. Indeed, he's still roaming the streets of Liyue Harbor, but he would've been fooled quite easily had someone told him differently.

"I don't care to live lavish, even if it's something I am able to afford," is what she told him once, when they were discussing philosophy. "Once in a while, it does you no harm to treat yourself, but it feels ... unnecessary flaunting that which so many can’t have themselves, and—" She had chuckled here. "—Never mind. You get my point, don’t you?”

Xiao keeps that thought at the forefront of his mind as he nears the front door. Upon reaching it, he silently thanks the archons for her residence's ease of access: on the first floor and as one of the very first units of the complex.

Lifting a hand, he knocks once...twice...

The door handle on the opposite end almost immediately rattles in response.

"Xiao?"

Keqing's voice is a colorful blend of concerned and (pleasantly) surprised. She fidgets with what looked to be an empty rice bowl in her hands.

"Keqing," he acknowledges, amber eyes suddenly skittering to the ground. Ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks, he follows up with, "My apologies for the unexpected visit. I hope you don't mind."

From his periphery, Xiao can see that she's still fiddling with the bowl — shifting it, inclining it, turning it upside down and right back up. He isn't sure what it means.

"No, of course I don't mind," she reassures him. Even as his eyes avoid hers, he can tell she's being earnest. Something soft and warm to the touch permeates the fabric of his glove. Eyes darting to the side, he sees her hand clasping his — on the verge of tugging him her way.

The "come inside" catches in Keqing's breath as the adeptus simply allows himself to be ushered in. Bowl now nestled solely in her other hand, she shuts the door closed with a foot. His hand still in hers, she then leads him down the main corridor and into the kitchen, where she'd been enjoying a late night dinner.

They seat themselves in her dining room, chairs directly across one another's. He ignores the arrangement of food scattering the table in favor of examining the rest of her home. The walls are relatively bare, save for two swords displayed in their respective racks front and center. Most, if not all, of the furniture looks decent enough—nothing too gaudy or flashy, though nothing secondhand, either—but even their presence is minimal ... underwhelming for a common civilian, let alone an aristocrat.

"Sorry if you were expecting something more grand." Keqing's voice rustles him from his observations.

Xiao rekindles the will to look her in the eyes. He attempts to ignore the dark circles weighing them down. "There is no need for you to apologize. I quite like your home, actually." When she chances a dubious brow in his direction, he adds, "It seems comfortable."

Keqing exhales a breath that is half scoff, half laugh. “Great save.” She props herself up on the dinner table and begins adding contents from each dish into her bowl. Xiao watches her from his periphery, realizing that this may have been one of the first times he’d seen her eat.

“You are free to help yourself to whatever you please.”

This time, he visibly flinches — once again, roused by the Yuheng’s voice.

“I will have to politely decline.” And before she can protest, he follows up with, “Adepti do not require the same amount of nourishment needed by human beings.”

Keqing’s shoulders roll into a lazy shrug. The sound of chopsticks scraping porcelain rings in the air. “So be it. Just know that the offer is yours for the taking whenever.”

For the next few minutes, the pair sits in silence — one that is only curtailed by the occasional sound of Keqing’s chopsticks against her bowl. Silences between them have been comfortable, for the most part...perhaps not in the beginning — back when they could not yet see eye to eye, back when they found faults within each other, back when they could not acknowledge those same faults within themselves — but that tension came to pass the moment their fondness for each other began to bloom...as friends and then, eventually, as...more.

Tonight, the silence feels especially oppressive, perhaps even more so than it did when they first got acquainted with one another. And as it continues to crescendo, looming over them like gallows, Xiao can only assume that she feels similarly.

”Keqing–“

”Why have you come here tonight?”

Xiao freezes, stunned. Consider the image of a deer in the headlights — not only only the fear and the wide eyes, but the acceptance of a certain, untimely fate. In hindsight, it’s foolish for him to react so severely. Hadn’t he paid her this visit for a pressing reason?

Or perhaps he still didn’t want to accept that pressing reason himself?

He’s too quiet. He hesitates for too long. He is always too quiet and hesitating for too long. The sound of a bowl settling atop mahogany, chopsticks following suit, fills his ears. With bated breath, the adeptus feels her presence shift from the seat across his to standing right beside him.

It takes everything in him not to pivot.

“Xiao.” Keqing’s voice is firmer now...still gentle, but far more stalwart in intention. His eyes glaze over briefly, searching hers, finding in them the stubborn concern he’d grown to cherish so much.

When he still offers her no reply, she lifts a hand to his arm, fingers gently running over the exposed skin. “I know you aren’t just here for the sake of being here.” Keqing continues skimming his arm with that feather light touch, just barely cognizant of the slight bumps left in its wake. “After all, it’s a Thursday night. You know better than anyone that I like to spend these nights in solitude.” Her hand halts upon contacting his bird bone wrist.

The adeptus feels his mouth dry at the tenderness of it all, sucking in a breath once her fingertips stop at his wrist, a hair shy out of his reach. He wonders if intimacy would always feel this...strange. Exhilarating. Or was this merely her Vision’s power at work? She is an Electro user, after all...

“Please talk to me.” There’s a meek lilt in Keqing’s voice that coerces Xiao to not only look up, but to also maintain his hold on her gaze. How pathetic, the way he can stare at hell itself square in the eye but could barely muster the courage to expend even a glance her way.

“I–“ Pause. Falter. Swallowing thickly, Xiao rises from his seat. He slowly takes the hand adorning his wrist into his own — intertwining the fingers one by one, marveling at how perfectly they fit together.

Then, bowing his head and releasing a sigh, he finds the courage to speak his piece — to voice his pressing reason...

“You are better off without me.”

Xiao feels the hand in his go limp.

”What? What do you mean?” There’s an incredulity that leaks into the Yuheng’s tone that he isn’t familiar with. He doesn’t like it.

”I am not worthy of you, Keqing. What we have, it cannot be.” What vile things to say. What vile, disgusting things. The words lapping his tongue taste almost as bitter as the blood he’d once shed, so he does exactly what he did all those years ago.

He gulps it down.

”You deserve better. You deserve the world. I don’t say this with the intention of discrediting myself. But I–“ Xiao trembles in spite of himself. He feels her other hand cup the small of his back. “–I am not capable of offering you all that you deserve, or even half of that amount.”

He doesn’t quite know how he sounds at that moment, let alone how he looks, but as he feels Keqing’s arms adjust to wrap around his frame, he figures it can’t be good.

”I don’t understand you sometimes,” she whispers into the crook of his neck. “You say you don’t mean to sell yourself short, yet that’s exactly what it sounds like you are doing.” She squeezes him softly before leaning further into the embrace. “Besides, who are you to tell me what I do and do not deserve? Who is anyone to decide that? Shouldn’t that decision be mine and mine alone?”

Whenever she talks like that, Xiao finds it difficult to fathom her mortality...to grasp the idea that she would one day be nothing but ashes at his feet. Yet, as he holds her, and as she holds him, her breath, her small frame, and the bray of her human heart become all the more clear to him.

”I suppose you’re right. Forgive me. This is novel territory for someone such as myself.” The adeptus feels her form loosen as she chuckles. He rests his chin upon her shoulder. “But still, I can’t help but feel that the life you lead has far more meaning than mine.”

Xiao withdraws from their embrace, if only to get a full glimpse of her face. Noticing the hints of tears pooling at the corner of one eye, he takes a thumb and lightly brushes it away.

”But you are the protector of Liyue, handpicked by Rex Lapis himself.”

Classic Keqing. Always so quick to counter him. He begins trailing his thumb down her cheek — slowly, softly. Her eyes reflexively draw closed. “While that may be so, my time here knows no limits. I can afford to be complacent. But you–“ Xiao pauses again. At this point, his thumb is bordering the curve of her jaw and her bottom lip. “–Your time in this world is finite. As a result, you cannot afford to spend it with regrets.” Now, it’s his turn to shut his eyes. He bows his head again. “I fear that may come to pass if you continue to involve yourself with me.”

The Yuheng allows her eyes to flutter half-open. She too bows her head, if to just press her forehead to his. “You don’t know that for sure.” Lifting a hand, she rests it on top of his. She prods his thumb so that it rests on the flush red of her lip, right where it meets her skin. “Even knowing the fate of our bond, much of the future is still uncertain.”

Xiao‘s head dips lower. Their noses brush. He can feel her breath hitch. “I understand that better than most. Nothing in this world is completely certain. Even the word of our gods is something that, at times, must be taken with a grain of salt.” He almost smiles saying that. You taught me this yourself. His thumb begins gingerly grazing her bottom lip. “But wouldn’t you want to pursue that which would yield you the most certainty?” Xiao can sense his feelings going awry once more. He breathes deeply and prolongs the exhale that follows, as if to ground himself. “That includes entering a relationship with...another mortal. Someone who can provide for you. Someone who is always present. Someone...whose love will not be lost to the whims of time.” He sighs in spite of himself, consciously commanding that his voice stay as level as possible. “Is that not what you want?”

Not even a second elapses before Keqing scoffs. Whether it’s ironic or not is completely lost on the adeptus, but what he does know for sure is the feeling of his other hand being claimed by hers — of it being lifted to her face, of it cupping her cheek.

”Do you even hear yourself right now? I’m not sure whether to call you foolish or stubborn, but that doesn’t matter right now.” She releases a breath. “What matters is you knowing, with absolute certainty, that no, isn’t at all what I want.” Keqing’s face nears his even more so. Lips, parted. Eyes, half-lidded. Xiao’s thumb moves to frame the curve of her chin.

”What I want is you.” Their lips brush for a fraction of a second. Her breath is a strange comfort, hot in his mouth. “Xiao, I choose you. For better or for worse. I want to spend this lifetime with you ... and if not that, then at the very least, every second of  the time we’ve been allotted with each other. Nothing can hope to alter those facts — nothing except how you decide to proceed with this information.”

He opts to respond by, at long last, closing the last bit of distance that separates them. Lips pressed against lips, body pressed against body, hands pressed against hands.

They need not talk even after they pull away from each other, the tingling in their lips and blush sweeping their cheeks speaking volumes for themselves. Moments later, they’re close again – practically insoluble as they envelope the other in their arms, as their heads settle warmly atop each other’s shoulder.

There, they stay for a while.

There, they reconcile with their comfortable silence.

[brooklynislandgirl]

A boy, a girl, and their symbiote...

@tangleweave​ {{xx}}

It’s quite alright that he laughs ~gently~ at her and not just because she loves the shy sound of it, that she feels she could wrap herself up inside of the sound and experience the same warm comfort as when he allows her to occasionally borrow one of his hoodies. There’s always a reluctance that comes with having to give it back even though she knows he needs it more than she ever will but that’s not really the point. There’s also the fact that she’d been trying to be funny after all and Eddie’s laugh held none of the nastiness she can sometimes hear in other people’s tones when they are trying to be mean right to her face as though she can’t understand what was going on around her. But in all the time she has known him, Eddie has never treated her so shabbily. He has been a gracious friend. Kind. Without the condescending feeling she gets sometimes in the social circles she haunts because she has to. Eddie is different in that he listens to her and to the things she never really says aloud. She doesn’t know exactly how he learned to do that, if it’s a skill he’s taken away from his past or if it’s a natural empathy baked into his very being. It’s entirely possible that it’s an organic blend of both, something she’ll think about later. When there’s time to breathe and reflect, which she does a little too often. Takes their moments together and strings them together into a mental photo album where she can chart the progress they have made from just this side of naked hostility to genial silence, from avidly engaging each other onto the rooftop to trying to coax him into her home like some feral creature that he isn’t, because she’s worried about how cold it gets and if he’s eaten a good meal. Because she wants to know he’s safe, that he has someone looking out for him. He deserves that much. And...now. She isn’t really sure what now is.

She’d never really had the impression that Eddie saw her in this kind of light. None of his actions have ever reminded her of the kind of people who want to capture her like an exotic creature to be put on display until the newness wore off and they found that her meagre charms and her unwillingness to be exactly what they wanted did not hold much value to them. He does not see her as some cute childlike thing that needs protecting from the world and maybe especially from herself, either. She might not feel attraction the way most people do, but she’s absolutely sure that he’s never looked at her in the way that makes her feel like he’s devouring her with a single gaze. So perhaps she’s put it out of mind and got on with being friends, taking delight in just spending time with him, listening to the stories he has to offer, and living in those moments. This isn’t exactly that, though, is it?

When she thinks of Eddie ~far more often than she has any right to~ she has a distinct mental image. There is a sadness that always seems to linger in the back of his eyes especially when he thinks no one is watching. Which would lead to him lowering his face and staring into his coffee and the way that his hands would wrap around the cup always felt like he was afraid to let go. Gives him the impression of searching though she’s never sure for what. Sometimes she swears he’s having some internal debate with himself that comes across as starts and falters of sound, that soft-spoken tone that sends shivers down her spine in the best of ways, but still never really becoming words. And in her own way, she knows what that’s like, having so much inside but no real way of expressing it.

Lately though, it’s becoming harder to see him that way. It starts with the way he makes her laugh. Something she hasn’t really done in a long time, and then follows up with thought-provoking questions, and not ones from his list which had been terribly fun. The way he offers to walk her home when he realises she’s afraid of the dark fits in as well, followed closely with the way he curls up protectively around her on the bus or cable-cars. Stupid touristy things he doesn’t seem to mind at all. The keen and sometimes biting observations that he makes of people and the world that compel a shift of perspective. Murmured against her ear, a private conversation that has the power to weaken her knees a little. And more slowly, maybe, she begins to add...other things. How much she likes his smile when he offers it, and the fullness of his lips. How soft they look even when chapped. His eyes again, this time deep and soulful, how they darken in colour, in emotion. How it brings out the sprinkle of the palest freckles across his nose that like hers don’t show very often. She notices how steady, patient, and most importantly, how gentle his hands are. Eddie is, after all, a handsome man if a little rough around the edges. And maybe she really likes those too, a sharp contrast to her own softness. She wants to know what it would feel like to cut herself on them, and if he would kiss the wounds better. Eddie is an orchid, slowly blooming into a beautiful person right before her eyes. A person she wants to nurture and cultivate. Except maybe those aren’t the right words. Again, feelings she has no right to want. At what point do those kinds of nascent wishes become pushy? Seems like some kind of underlying motivation that has been so very carefully orchestrated so that she might take advantage of him? This is the critical part of relationships that are unfathomable to Beth, something everyone else seems to be aware of but that she missed out. Like there’s some kind of manual and it’s written in a foreign language that she doesn’t speak. And what good does it do to become aware of being increasingly attracted to Eddie...when he isn’t interested? She’s never been able to say he’s been less than a perfect gentleman to her. That he doesn’t go out of his way to carefully broach subjects that might make her uncomfortable and then if there’s any hint of distress, to quickly course-correct. If she’s to act in kind, how does she go about asking if maybe he isn’t a little like her? What did her friend call it? A different kind of umbrella, so to speak. She’s never felt an appropriate time has come to try and figure that out in any serious fashion.

Except... It’s quiet now. The wine still lingers on her tongue and soaks into the back of her mind, easing some of the tension right out of her, even if she’s watching him more intently than she ever has before. Wills him to maybe hear that unspoken question as he sits there, comfortable on the couch because the words escape her. He doesn’t recoil from the tap against his leg. Not that she can imagine he would really do that, but one never knows. And sometimes Eddie has odd reactions to general affection, at least from her and her inability to keep her hands entirely to herself.

And despite the myriad of problems she could catalogue, the subtle vocalisation is enough to have her pause precariously on the edge of the cliff they’re on. She can feel the churning of nerves deep in the pit of her stomach. Rogue butterfly wings pounding to be let out or smothered by any other feeling. By itself it should have no power over her except that it does. Makes her want to hear it again at a much closer distance, letting its echo wash over her. There’s such a power to that, one that gains as much as it gives. She can feel it dance beneath her fingertips, the way it feels like he almost presses back into them though she knows he hasn’t moved at all. It’s the wild flutter of his pulse, the song in his blood. It would only take a little pressure to have it gush over her lips and she’s very aware of that. Which is why she doesn’t listen to every instinct screaming for her to do so. She doesn’t want to take from Eddie, but to share. That’s an important distinction, the only one that would ever feel right. His ha comes out hot against her skin, strong. Tells her so much more about him than a hundred conversations, feels like witnessing the birth of islands and the death of mountains, all the life that comes between the two. And just as she’s on the verge of losing herself in the joy and terror of it all, he utters a single word that freezes her to the very marrow of her bones and her heart plunges somewhere down between her knees. Just like that… Eyes widen as she feels the instant backlash of having made a mistake she can’t take back.

She wants to. She should. She should blame the wine and the proximity and the fact that she read into his query wrong, through no fault of his own. That it isn’t his fault in the least. Anything that might make him laugh again and find her silly and that will make him stay. But before she can get the seeds of her apology in fertile soil he continues on. For a moment she finds herself unable to experience anything that isn’t the exquisite ghost of his touch in return. Pressing hers closer as if for one brief moment they both share the same fear and wonderment. And she has no idea what to do about that. 

He’s not pulling away. If anything, he’s encouraging her. At least that is what it sounds like. And it all cascades again. And she finds herself briefly leaning into that caress, the rough pad of a thumb just cresting the arch of her cheek bone. No satin could compete with the delicate nature, and if there’s one thing that Beth knows beyond any doubt it is that touch doesn’t lie. As long as she’s known Eddie, neither does he. Not to her, anyway. Maybe that makes this all a little more unforgivable, but she will deal with the guilt and the consequences come morning. No one, even in her wildest fantasies which are very few and far between, more nameless want than anything else, has ever said something so simple but so full of meaning. Or in a way that eats her alive with newly sparked heat. Because the truth is, most people she knows never put her wishes at the forefront of anything, much less something so delicate in nature. “I…” She shifts. Rises up from the floor to pour herself over him, one slender thigh on either side of his hips, as best as the restraint of her skirt allows her to. Her other hand lifts to cup the other cheek, brushes across the soft stubble of his jaw and from slightly loftier a height, she finds herself looking him directly in the eye a moment, her voice drying up in her throat, forcing her to swallow. It’s her turn to search for something that lacks all definition, that can’t be given shape in words.

She’s forgotten how to breathe. Or maybe doesn’t need to at all, her gaze scouring every inch of his face before returning to his eyes. Because the question is still there. Does she want to do this? Yes. More than he can know. Does she know how? In the most basic of biological functions, also yes. Her lashes drift down to shutter green and gold from the world before she gets closer, and settles her lips to his. She catches the lower tier of his lips between her own. There’s still the same heat and the same temptation in doing so, that has not diminished from her earlier exploration but the kiss is far more gentle. Softer. Sweeter. But with a gradation of intensity that mimicked the pounding of bird wings inside of her chest, against the cage of bone surrounding it. Mimicked below as her hips roll into and against his own but doesn’t offer her any more leverage.

[ficsnroses]

Upset - John Wick x Reader

Word Count : 3K

Warnings : Fluff, Angst, don't think there’s anything apart from that!

Summary : John & his girlfriend, Y/N, have a bit of an argument before bed, leaving them both feeling uneasy. 

A/N : So this emerged from the idea of your S/O always kissing you goodnight without fail, even if you’re in a fight, and kinda just stemmed from there. Once again, this turned out completely different from what I imagined it would, but that’s alright! I hope you enjoy ❤️ Requests are currently open :)

It’s a cold evening in New York, you’d swore flurries may have just fell, 

had the air not been so desiccated. Shrill, arctic frost loiters each surface, each brick of the city stone, freckled with ice on all the rooftops. The leaves out the window embroider in ice sequins coats, decorated by the frigid crisp itself.

John had come home not too long ago, and you’d felt him tense just by a look his way. He’d hung his coat, sluggish on the entrance coat hanger, movement slow and weary as his limbs trudge along the hardwood floor. Dog had ran his way in a haste, tail wagging frantically as he joys at John’s feet, waiting for an abundance of praiseful pets. John doesn’t quite abide, though.

“Good Dog.” John’s low, deep voice barely manages, settling for just a stroke behind Dog’s ear, before plodding towards the kitchen. You’d heard John come in from your spot on the living room couch, browsing a novel of your choice as you’d wait for him.

You found yourself waiting for John often on days like today. Days when he’d venture out, with little to speak on his whereabouts.

You tried not to press on it much. Over the years of being John Wick’s girlfriend, you’d learned much about the way he was. John was special, for sure. There was no denying it.

John is loving, John is compassionate. John is gentle, sweet, thoughtful. He’s a great listener, trustful and respectful. He makes you laugh just when you need it most, he offers a shoulder to cry on when you need it firm.

John loves you endlessly, unconditionally, here, now, today, as you are. And he will, for as long as he can. You’ve never doubted it. He’d never let you. For John, you’d always been the one everything comes down to in the end. He’s all you’d ever wanted, and plenty more.

But even the best of us have our flaws.

John is quiet, when he feels he needs to be. John carries an unrelenting weight on his shoulders, the burden of all his demons when he feels its best. John often forgets, that he is only human.

That he is, human.

Quiet, you pad towards the kitchen, hearing John shuffle around the marble floors. You catch a glimpse of his fatigued form, expressions low, melancholy. You know he’s not feeling his best, and it hurts you to realize that.

If you had it your way, you’d take all his worries away in a heartbeat. That’s the kind of love you had – an interminable battle to keep each other safe, carefree.

“John? Are you here?” You quietly inquire, making your presence known. Dog’s ears perk up to the sound of your soft voice, as he hops over to you, stopping by your feet.

He shifts his gaze your way, with a glass of tepid water in hand. “It’s just me.” He responds, raising a hand as he sips. He offers a small smile your way, although it never quite reaches his chestnut orbs. He lets out a small cough, a wince apparent in his measure, that he tries to brush off.

As you walk his way, your heart falls heavy knowing he’s had a rough day. With your touch gentle, you wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. His hands come around your waist briefly, as he dots a kiss your lips brief, finishing with a more delicate one to your forehead.

His kisses still sent you in butterflies, no matter the countless amounts you’d shared.

“Long day?” You ask, letting go of him as he moves to wash his hands. His muscles seem tense as he moves drained, although you can tell he’s trying his best to make it not apparent to you. That’s how John was, he’d rather stomach any distresses himself, than have his love worry.

“I’m alright, sweetheart.” He replies, short, keeping his eyes fixed on the steady stream of the faucet flow. You sigh a breathy exhale, knowing he’d rather keep his guard up than let you know. You’d often wonder why John did that. He really was the man to give as much as he could to you, asking for absolutely nothing in return.

But that wasn’t how you’d preferred. For him, you wanted the same. You wanted to be there for him when he needed you, wanted to walk through plights with him, holding his hand each step of the way. You wanted to show him, that what you had was a two-way street.

He takes care of you, and you take care of him.

As you walk closer to him again, you allow your arms to wrap around his waist from behind, leaning yourself on him as he stands at the kitchen sink. With your cheek pressed against his back, you quietly press. 

“John, I can tell something is wrong. You’re not yourself today.” You frown, giving his bicep a compassionate squeeze.

You feel his tenseness subside a little as you touch him. With your chest pressed to his back, you soothe up and down his arms, trying your best to get it out of him. If not much, you’d just love if he’d let you talk him through it.

As he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, his frame moves to the kitchen towel, drying the droplets of water off his skin. “It’s okay, I’m alright.” He quietly protests, moving to the living room couch. You trail behind him, refusing to let him wallow alone. As he takes place by the fireplace, Dog runs rush at his feet, padding a few twirls on his paws before plopping comfortable. You trail behind, feeling more uneasy by the second. John doesn’t seem to budge today.

For your own sanity, you need him to be okay.

Silence dawns the room as you try to find the right words. Stood at the doorframe, you watch John rub his worn-out eyes, yawning as he clears his throat. There seems to be no right way to approach him, so you settle for just asking him again.

“John,” you say, voice assertive this time. As you walk up behind him as he sits, you allow your arms to circle his shoulders, planting a kiss on his head. “Please, I know somethings bothering you and I just wanna help.” Ruffling his hair, you try to keep the mood light. “How about we get to bed early tonight? It’s freezing out, maybe we could both just use a good snuggle.” You giggle, pressing another kiss to the side of his head.

You’d always make sure John knew just how loved he is. Make sure he doesn’t forget the feeling of being touched.

He deserves it, more than anyone else.

He sighs, lips curling into a small smile at the way you’re holding him. “That sounds nice.” He replies, to the thought of having the day over with, falling asleep beside the woman he loves.

“Annnnnnnnd….you’ll tell me what’s up.” You say, quiet, but firm. When he doesn’t reply, let go of him, moving around the couch to take seat by. He’s still strained, his lips purse slight, just enough to exaggerate his tense brow. Taking hold of his hand, you lace your fingers together, rubbing the top of his palm as he stares out the window.

“John, I don’t know what’s bothering you but I know there is something. It doesn’t sit well with me that you’re upset and I don’t know why.” You sigh, as he turns to look your way. “Honey, please. Was it something from…work?” You question, never letting go of his hand. He takes in a deep breath, almost about to speak, before the words seem to get caught in his throat, never quite coming out.

Rolling your eyes, you grow impatient, slightly peeved that he won’t just tell you. “John, you’re doing that thing again. Where you shut me out.” You frown.  

He lets out an exhale, jaw tensing. “I’m not…” he frowns. “…shutting you out, Y/N. I’m just tired. Okay? You don’t need to worry.”

Groaning, you grow more annoyed. “John, why do you have to be so stubborn? I know you, and I know somethings up. You’ve been acting weird since you got home, you’ve been dry, you’re all tense and…” you bite your lip, trying not to complain. “You’re not your same...” 

Searching for the right words, you continue. “….cheery self today. You’ve barely talked to me since you got home.” With a fretful hand comb through your hair, you breathe. “Did I do something?” You ask, suddenly feeling apprehensive.

“No, of course not.” He replies, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“Then tell me what’s wrong!” You say, a bit louder than intended.

He turns to lock your gaze. Calm and collected still, he speaks. “Y/N, stop pressing. Please. You’re making it worse.”

You’re making it worse. That stung.

Letting go of his hand, you straighten your back, looking down slightly. “Alright then.” You begin to stand, as he lightly grasps hold of your arm.

“Y/N, wait, I’m….” he starts, as you cut him off, a mock evident in your words.

“No. I’m making it worse, aren’t I?” You shake his hand off your arm, sighing as an anxious hand runs through your locks. “Just…leave me alone tonight, alright, John? We’ll talk in the morning when you’ve figured your shit out.” You dispute, turning on the balls of your feet to walk away.

-

John and you didn’t fight often. Even when you did, they weren’t necessarily arguments. Much like today, they would be confrontation, leaving both of you the space you needed until you’d be ready to discuss again, work things through.

Although, as the words of staying apart tonight had slipped off your lips, John felt his heart heavy, suddenly aware of how much he didn’t want that. If anything, John wanted to take you up on your offer of calling it an early night, more than ever. He knew, just how much he wanted to hold you close, rejuvenate through the night, forgetting about his taxing day. Sometimes, he just needed a little grounding. Something to pull him back to earth, reminding him that there’s more to his life, than what he had become. What he was bound to.

There was you. All things good, all things he needed to remember what he truly needs.

Solace.

Familiarity.

Normality.

All things, he got from you.

John hated when things weren’t right between you two. He didn’t have anyone else to confide in. For him, it was just you.

But John was anything but inconsiderate. He wasn’t a monster, as the world made him out to be. John understands, he knows how to give you the respect you deserve. If you wanted space, he’d give it to you, for as long as you needed.

Even if it hurt him.

Discontent, he hauls himself up, heading for the wooden stairs that led to your shared bedroom. The one that you’d fall asleep in alone tonight. This wasn’t what he wanted. Why did he always somehow manage to make things worse? He thinks wearily to himself, shaking his head as he rubs his temples, mad at himself for letting it get this way, when all you were trying to do was be there for him.

The same thing he did for you, without doubt.

-

As he glides the bedroom door open, the creak fills the air around, as the rest of the room sits rather still. He sees you tucked away on your side of the bed, the comforter pulled tight up, covering most of your face. You’d been curled up, as if shielding yourself from something unwelcome. 

He feared it was him.

As he cautiously ambles over, his orbs frown, with a grimace coat his features. His heart hopes more than anything that you hadn’t shed any tears. It would ruin him to know he did that to you, when all he wanted was the exact opposite.

As he moves closer to his side of the bed, he sighs, grabbing his fluffed white pillow that matches the one under your head.

Hopefully the guest bedroom sheets wouldn’t treat him too glum tonight.

Turning to head out the door, he kicks himself again mentally, for allowing it to go this far tonight. John wasn’t used to sleeping without you, not unless it was while he was away for a job. Tonight felt wrong. Looking your way once more, he feels himself halt in his tracks, unable to leave.

John had a habit, more of a routine, if you will. Each night, he’d kiss you goodnight, without fail. Even if he’d be away, he’d make sure his nightly phone call went your way, as he’d wish you a goodnights sleep, reminding you that he loves you. While he was home, it was always the last thing on his agenda. Finishing his day off in the way he knew best.

As he bends down, kneeling beside the bed, John observes your features. You lay still, calm, poised and present, chest rising and falling gently. He was glad you were getting rest, he was ready for this dreadful evening to be over soon as well, hopeful for the morning, when you’d wake and could talk it out.

With his hand coming down to cup your cheek softly, his lips move in, pressing a gentle, delicate kiss to your forehead. He lingers in place for a moment before pulling away, lips hovering over your face, close enough to give you another. But he’d held himself back, afraid he’d wake you up. John didn’t want to ruin your night more than he already had.

Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he reluctantly pulls himself back, pillow tucked away under his arm, giving you a final glance, before he leaves for good. The door creaks again on his way out, his foot steps audible towards the guestroom.

You’d been awake, well aware of the way he was silently regretful. But you decided it would be good to sleep separate tonight, it would give you both a chance to collect your thoughts and be alone. John was sorry for sure, but that didn’t compromise for the fact that he hadn’t reacted in the best way tonight. 

You love him with all your heart, you respect him and understand he’s a quiet man. But as his girlfriend, you felt you deserve to at least know why he’d been behaving the way he was.

If not tonight, the least you wanted was him to let you know that he’d tell you when he was ready. Not completely shut you out.

-

As the sun shines through the bedroom windows, your eyes flutter open to the remembrance of last nights past. Out of habit, you turn to hug John closer, hit with the reality that he’s not there. The spot lays cold and empty, his pillow missing and the sheets untouched on his side.

You sigh, bringing your hands to rub your tired eyes. You wished he was here, tucked away beside you, where he belongs. No matter what had happen last night, you just wanted him here, now, in this moment. You miss him, despite knowing he’s only a room away.

It doesn’t sit well with you knowing you’re in the middle of a fight.

Lifting the covers off yourself, your groggy eyes adjust to the bright morning glow channeling the room. It’s still chilly out, and you catch glimpse of the frost speckle the tree branches outside, gleaming, beaming, sparkling as a new day wakens.

Dragging your tired, bleary limbs as you walk, you hope John is already awake. You don’t want to wake him prematurely; you know he needs rest. But you can’t drag this on longer, you just need things to be alright again. 

Walking through the hallway, you smell the aroma of fresh coffee being brewed on the timer downstairs. John sets a pot for exactly 6:00AM every morning, for you both to enjoy when you’d wake up together. It had become routine at this point. Morning coffee was one of your favourite times of the day, when you’d have John all to yourself in his clumsily sleepy state, as each sip woke you both up more and more. John is a sweetheart in the morning, affectionate as he peppers you with kisses while you browse the morning paper, reading aloud the intriguing headlines for him as well, as he cooks you breakfast.

This morning, however, was a dire contrast to your routine ones.

As you sway the guestroom door open quietly, you see him lay on his back, eyes shut as the sheets bunch and pleat around him.

He’d been tossing and turning all night.

You frown at the exhaustion that paints his features, suddenly regretful that you may have been the reason for that. Perhaps you’d been a bit harsh on him. Maybe you should have just let it go, understand that he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Slow and cautious, you make your way over to the bed, taking seat beside him. Your hand moves to softly rest on his cheek, giving the skin a few gentle strokes, hoping he was able to get a little bit of decent sleep last night. He deserved it.

“John?” You quietly speak, trying to awake him calm. “Jonathan?”

You try to shake him gently, making sure not to startle him. As you call his name again, his eyes shoot open, adjusting to the light before they set on you, heavy.

“Y/N,” John’s morning voice rasps as he sits up slightly, looking your way.

“I-..” You begin, before he cuts you off, setting a hand on your thigh.

“Wait, before you say anything, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “I was just overwhelmed and I didn’t want you to worry. You weren’t making it worse at all, I didn’t mean what I said.” He sighs. “I’m sorry I made you upset.”

You smile, the anger of the night completely forgotten. All you wanted right now, was to be with the man you love. As you move closer to him, your arms wrap around his neck, placing a kiss to his cheek, as you finish with a rest of your head on his shoulder. His arms come around you as well, tucking his head into your neck with a sigh of relief. He holds you close, pressing sweet kisses wherever he pleases.

“I’m sorry too. I should have understood that you weren’t ready to talk about it.” You run your hands through his hair as you hold each other in an embrace, both happy to put the night behind. “I won’t press next time, I promise.” As you pull back slightly to connect your eyes, your hand comes to cup his bearded cheek. “You’re not mad at me, right?” you bite your lip.

John shakes his head, placing his hand over yours that holds his cheek, as his other stays wrapped around you. “Of course not, princess.” He plants a kiss to your wrist, letting you know he’s ready to move on as well. “ You’re not mad at me either, right?” 

“Of course not. I love you.” You reply, smiling as you stare his lips.

He brings his own in closer, hovering just above yours as a smile curls his lips as well. “I love you so much more, sweetheart.” He kisses you brief, before his lips speak again. “Always. Don’t forget it.”

As your lips connect in a heartfelt kiss again, your hands never leave each other, as your arms hold close, savouring in each other once again in the wake of the daybreak sun.

It’s a cold morning in New York, you’d swore flurries may have just fell,

had the love of your life not made,

the world around seem,

so warm.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

Taglist Posted Separately (Ask to be added or removed!) :

[lionheartkrbkzine]

Lionheart’s Interactive KiriBaku Twitter Thread

Pro Heroes, Bed-Sharing, Fake Dating, Quirk Accident

Rating: T (for swearing & canon-typical violence)

At the end of each Twitter update was an overnight poll where our followers got to decide the direction of the plot or details about story elements!

Feel free to reply with your thoughts, predictions, or desires, and Head Mod ET and Social Media Mod Belle will do our best to incorporate your ideas! This is a thank you and a way for us all to collaborate together until application responses are sent out on April 5th.

🧡❤️💥⚙️💥❤️🧡

Three buildings were on fire, and it wasn’t Bakugou’s fault.

Blackened smokestacks billowed above the Tokyo cityscape as he and Kirishima raced toward the scene. Bakugou took to the skies while his partner swerved between sedans and work trucks parked bumper-to-bumper on the roadway. Bakugou’s boots skid on the rough gravel of rooftops as he blasted from one to the next, his scorching propellant warping the air behind him, leaving trails of Schlieren lines in his wake.

He crouched on the edge of a four-story building above the battle, glimpses of a hero battle raging beneath the haze of ash and concrete dust. Heroes with water-based quirks tried and failed to mitigate the damage of six gangly beams of red-hot light.

“Riot, you got eyes?” he asked into his earpiece.

“Not directly on the prize, but I’m getting intel now! Are you seeing how the beams flicker in and out?”

“Yeah. Probably low level of quirk control or erratic mentality. Or both.”

“The team leader on the ground says the villain’s in a donut hole of concrete. Rubble’s piled up on all sides, so no one can get to him.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Amateurs.” The villain probably got himself cornered in a pit of fallen debris and figured he could wait it out or cause enough damage to try to make a run for it. “Shock Diamond, then.”

“Now?! Finally?! Hell yeah, let's go!"

Bakugou felt the heat of the lasers as one shaved the side of his building. He sneered at the heroes doing a piss-poor job of containment and checked behind him for the extent of the damage. A singed line gouged into the wall of a parking garage, but it stopped with a blunted tip before it speared the next building. The lasers didn’t seem to work like Aoyama’s — they could only extend so far.

Not made out of light, then. Kiri will be fine.

Not that he was worried about his partner. Kirishima could handle himself.

Even if Bakugou did pack the idiot a lunch every day and nudge him to go to bed when he fell asleep on the couch. And bought him cold medicine when he stayed out late walking Mirko’s seventy-eight-year-old receptionist home on dark, rainy nights. And bleached and dyed his roots when they started growing out.

But he wasn’t worried. The fact that the beams must be a form of slow-moving energy just gave them a tactical advantage. It had nothing to do with the fact that Kirishima’s hardening was more sensitive to concentrated light attacks yet the hero would bulldoze his way in front of them anyway.

The idiot’s voice rang through Bakugou’s earpiece. “Greenlight, Dynamight!”

“No matter how many times you say it, the rhyme doesn’t get any catchier.” Like a swimmer, he gripped the edge of the roof, rose halfway from his crouch, and dove into the pool of ash and smoke head-first. 

Catching the current mid-air, he soared closer to where Kirishima was probably charging into the fray. Bakugou used the familiar shock of red hair as his signal and dropped feet-first, sending down a counterblast to stick the landing. 

As Dynamight set himself up directly behind Red Riot, they charged the villain in a single-file line. 

Without missing a beat, Kirishima extended his arms behind him at the same time Bakugou pushed his chest into the other man’s back. Kirishima’s arms locked onto Bakugou’s sides.

Bakugou tucked his chin, extended his hands behind him, and sent out a blinding explosion.

They rocketed forward — an unbreakable wall and a ballistic force. The perfect offense and defense. Explosion and Hardening. 

Dynamight and Red Riot: Shock Diamond.

As they smashed through the rubble, the devastating strength of Red Riot’s quirk wracked through Bakugou’s body, but Kirishima held him tightly against his back. The shock waves cleared from Bakugou’s spine, and he jumped into the rapidly-clearing fog of smoke and dust.

His eyes widened. He whipped his head from side to side. He stopped, listened.

The pit was empty.

Meeting his partner’s eyes, Bakugou could only think of one thing to say. “What the fuck?!”

But Red Riot was similarly dumbfounded, his brows furrowed and jaw hanging slack, glancing around the center of the crater.

Bakugou kicked at a fallen pebble, its mere presence offensive in the heat of his frustration. 

“Dynamight! Red Riot!” An aged hero with a sky blue costume ran toward them, waving his arms in ridiculous circles and spraying arcs of water through the air. “Good work out there!”

“We didn’t do shit! We just busted through a wall!”

"What Bakugou means to say is 'thank you', sir!”

“Well, the guy’s a problem for tomorrow’s heroes now. I’ve sent a team to scout the perimeter, and the police have his mugshot and quirk info. Another group is putting out the last of the fires. We’re lucky it’s a weekend — no one in those office buildings meant no casualties.” The older hero jiggled and sloshed as he rested his hands on his service belt, the edges of his existence just barely see-through as his costume molded to his mutation quirk. “For now, we need you two to handle some of the media coverage while we start to get a section of road opened back up.”

“No problem! Leave it to us!”

Flubber strode off, his boots leaving wet footprints on the asphalt.

Bakugou turned to his partner. “No.”

"Hey— where are you going?! You can't just leave the press to me all the time!"

Huffing, Bakugou slipped through an unblocked alleyway, brushing concrete crumbs off his shoulders as he took deep breaths. Normally he would feel some semblance of guilt about leaving a crime scene or abandoning Kirishima to fend off the harpies on his own, but the villain did escape. Bakugou might as well join the search of the perimeter.

A sharp scream had his feet slapping the pavement before his brain caught up.

Rounding the corner of an office park, the street opened up to allow for a municipal park one block long and one wide. Amidst swing sets and jungle gyms stood a proud maple tree. In one of its branches clung a girl no more than six years old.

Below her, a group of parents huddled in a crescent moon around the trunk, some gawking, some enjoying the entertainment, and others consoling one woman in the center of it all. Bakugou made a beeline for her.

She jumped at the hulking form of a grenade-adorned hero. He never tried very hard to work on his public image.

“Oh, Dynamight.” The whites of the woman’s eyes gaped in surprise, and she looked back and forth between the imposing hero and the girl high up in the tree. “She just— She feels more secure when she’s up high, and she got scared by all the noise and the lights, so she climbed into the tree, but now she can’t get back down and she’s too high for me to reach her, and I can’t climb up—”

“Stop.” The woman snapped her teeth closed with a click. “I’ll get her down.”

She didn’t look especially reassured. Shit. What would Kirishima do? Probably flash a smile and bang his fists together or some other cute-ass Kirishima-ism. Bakugou gave her a closed-mouth smile and a stiff pat on the shoulder instead. That’ll do.

Grasping a branch with one hand and placing the flat of his boot on the trunk, he hoisted himself into the tree. He climbed higher and higher, wary of the thinning branches. When he couldn’t fit on the remaining limbs, he lifted his arms out for the girl.

“C’mon, I’ll take you back to your mom.” His voice was soft, low, and practiced. The girl eyed him warily, but after catching a glimpse of her mom below, shuffled into Bakugou’s hold. “Good job. Just hold on to me like you did to the branch, okay?”

She nodded against his shoulder, and he began his climb back down.

“What’s your name?”

“Matatabi,” she mumbled.

“What were you doin’ that high up?”

“Wanted to catch it.”

He frowned, wondering what it was, but they had reached the bottom and he had reached his patience quota for the day. Especially when the girl threw a fit in his arms, hissing and wiggling, and pushing and scratching at him. “Oi!” He dropped her, and she scurried to her mom, leaving him with whiplash and three welts on his bicep.

“Oh. Oh, dear.” The mother looked like she was about to confess to murder. Great. “Did she scratch you?”

No shit. “Yes, but it’s completely understandable.”

“Ah, awe, thank you—” at least he got a smile out of that one “—but, um, there may be a bit of an issue?” Of course there is. “She seems to activate her quirk when she scratches or bites.” She grimaced, floundering for her next words.

He took a deep breath. It wasn’t the kid’s fault. “It’s fine. What should I expect with the effects?”

“Um. Cat?”

He blinked. “Cat?”

She nodded. “Cat.”

“Dynamight!”

They both looked up then to Red Riot’s jogging figure, dust and cement billowing behind his ass cape. 

“Everything alri-oh.” Kirishima was staring somewhere above Bakugou’s forehead, his mouth formed in the perfect ‘O’ shape.

“What are you looking at?!”

“Ears.”

Bakugou’s stomach fell into his butt. “What?”

“Bro… ears. You have… ears.”

“No.”

“Dude they look so��soft.” Slow hands lifted higher and higher, above Bakugou’s face up to the top of his head. “Can I just—”

Bakugou slapped his hands away. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed.

Kirishima chortled— chortled! — and turned to the mother of the tree climbing, cat nabbing daughter.

Bakugou watched the exchange with clenched fists.

“I’m so sorry!” She bowed low, almost tipping her kid onto the ground. “Is she in trouble?”

“No, no!” Kirishima smiled at them. They seeped into it like a warm blanket on a cold day. “We’ll just get your contact information in case we have any further questions about the quirk—”

A sharp pain stung both of Bakugou’s palms. He hissed and checked his hands, tuning out the rest of Kirishima’s mediation.

Claws. He had ears and claws.

Well, at least he had another weapon now — that was pretty cool, actually. As soon as the thought passed through his head, the claws retracted into his nail beds, leaving behind his normal, blunt nails.

He felt his ears droop to the side of his head.

“So… do you want to head back to the agency?”

He looked up at his partner, giving him his best baleful glare with the ears and all. Kirishima just snorted. “There’s no way in Hell I’m going back there like this.”

“Awe, but you could be our new office mascot.” He reached forward to pet Bakugou’s ear again. He was unsuccessful. “Alright, alright,” he laughed, pulling out his phone, “let’s call Mirko and get our next orders, then.” The ringer blasted loud and clear, Kirishima holding his phone in selfie-mode.

“You little shit! She doesn’t need to see!”

They played a game of impromptu tag until their boss picked up. She, of course, immediately burst into guffaws of laughter. 

Bakugou was so ready for today to be over.

“Hey, boss! What, uh— What do you suggest we do here with uh, Cat...kugou?”

“I’ll kill you,” he whispered.

“Hell if I know, I’ve never needed flea prevention.” Bakugou balked. “Take him to the vet, I guess!”

“Yessir!” Kirishima hung up before Bakugou could even process the words that just came out of his boss’s mouth.

“I am not—” he huffed “—going—” huff “—to the fucking VET!”

🧡❤️💥⚙️💥❤️🧡

If All Might himself had told Bakugou that hero life would involve sitting on a metal exam table in a veterinarian’s office, he wouldn’t believe a word of it. Not because it was impossible. Just because Bakugou would never get himself into that kind of situation.

He craned his neck back, glaring at his reflection in the operating mirror hanging from the ceiling. Two ash blond ears twitched back at him.

He sighed, crossing his arms and adjusting his seat on the hard metal. If I grow a tail, I’m gonna scream.

After what felt like hours of waiting, twitching, and reading pamphlets about “What to do if you have a fat cat,” the vet finally strode through the door, Kirishima hot on her heels.

She turned, frowning. “Oh, I’m so sorry — I know you’re hero partners, but technically the exam room is family only."

Bakugou’s eyes flicked to Kirishima. His partner met his desperate glare head-on.

[remmushound]

Birds of Prey

Pete waddled happily across the rooftop with no true destination in his mind, but he sure did love to waddle! Especially at night when he was less likely to be yelled at and could find all sorts of goodies lying around! He hoped and hoped with all his heart to find bread on his nightly journey, be it stale or fresh he’d eat it all the same. As long as it filled his belly and tasted good, he’d gobble it down.

He gave a curious coo and stopped with his foot still raised mid-step, tilting his head farther than any human could hope to achieve when he heard the strange sound of chewing. Not chewing like a human would, but more like some starved animal that had just found its first meal in days. Whatever it was, it sounded like the animal— or animals— were definitely enjoying themselves. Pete couldn’t help but wonder if he could steal a few scraps, if there were any left.

He followed the sound a few buildings down until he found the source of the frenzied scarfing and peered down to get a look at who it was. Maybe one of his friends! But no— he didn't know these mutants. They sure were big though! Two of them, one bigger than the other but both of them a lot bigger than Pete was. One was fat and hairy with a big gut, but big muscles too; he had a bright purple mohawk that Pete couldn’t help but stare at and the spikey black and orange outfits he wore were so vibrant too! The bigger one had no furs or feathers that Pete could see, but he shared the same jiggly belly as his comrade and two large horns on his nose that Pete was ever so curious about.

New friends, maybe? New friends with food! Both of them held a massive disk of bread covered in cheesies and pepperonis and all sorts of greens that Pete couldn’t recognize, and beside them was a broken and bent two-wheel car that Pete sometimes saw those strange humans riding in the day. Stacking beside it were more boxes, some empty but others with more of the yummy-smelling bread disks! Pete wondered if they wouldn’t mind sharing.

***

Bebop and Rocksteady were having the time of their lives, howling through the night with their mouths full of stolen pizza. They were still reliving the hilarity of the pizza boy's expression when his bike got picked up and folded like a pretzel, and how he had nearly wet himself screaming for his mommy. Bebop was on his fifth pizza, scarfing out down like there was no tomorrow, when he heard a strange rush of air that made his ears give a curious twitch.

“Hey Rocky, what’s that?”

Rocksteady swiped his tongue over his lips as his gray eyes searched around to find what Bebop was talking about. He had heard the rush of air too but had given it little mind since eating his share was more important to him at the moment. Looking down, he finally found just what it was that his boyfriend had been talking about.

The creature was pathetically small compared to them, with a dopey little smile on his face and eyes that seemed to bulge out of the sides of his head. A little gray pigeon, from what little Rocksteady could tell, with a vibrant chest of blue and purple and a hopeful look in his eyes. He wore tiger-striped boxers and a watermelon-colored fanny back on his side, a pin that read ‘CUPID’ locked onto the belt. Apart from that, the only other accessory he had was a space-patterned sash that held various bottles, some filled with soda or other beverages, and some filled with shiny rocks and other tiny and shiny things.

“HI I’M PETE!” The mutant said in an obnoxiously loud voice. His tongue was hanging out of his beak between uneven sets of teeth and, though he often corrected it, his tongue just kept falling back out again. “I like your bread disks! Can I have some?”

He didn't wait for a response before he went to try and peck at the cheese dripping down Bebop’s fingers, catching some of the warthog's fur. Bebop gave a squeal out of surprise more than pain and then snorted his anger.

“Oh, I know you didn't just do that!” Bebop pulled his lips back in a snarl.

Pete frowned and tilted his head. “I… I’ll trade you some soda pop for em?”

Pete reached into his belt and pulled out a half-drunk bottle of Pepsi, offering it gladly to the mutants. Bebop snatched it from Pete’s claws and bit into the plastic, sucking down the drink in two solid gulps before tossing the empty bottle back at Pete. Pete gave a startled squeak and stepped back to try and avoid the hit, then gave an excited bounce between his feet and opened his mouth for the promise of pizza.

Rocksteady reached down and grabbed Pete by the neck, hoisting him up and laughing as the pigeon started to screech.

“Hi Pete. I’m Rocksteady. And you ain’t getting non’ma food!”

Pete gulped. Rocksteady pulled his arm back, still holding Pete tightly, and launched the helpless mutant clear across the alley. Pete landed hard, bouncing a few times and luckily managing to land unsteadily on his feet and he tried to take off into flight.

“Aww, don’t go yet, little Petey!” Bebop grabbed Pete by his ankles and yanked him back down, purposely knocking his head against the ground before dragging Pete back into the alley. “We just getting started!”

***

It was almost halfway into her rounds and Pete still hadn’t come to visit her— she hadn’t even seen the hapless creature bumbling about like he often did. She tried to tell herself that it was nothing, and that the kid had probably just eaten himself into a food coma somewhere, but the pit in her chest made her think otherwise. Hobs always told her never to fly lower than the clouds— that would increase her chances of being spotted by any late-night humans below— but she couldn’t help it. So she dipped down lower than the clouds and let the sharpness of her eyes scan the buildings and alleys below.

The lights of the city were almost blinding to her sensitive eyes, and so the white film came over her to block out the brunt of the unnatural brightness. That certainly made it a lot easier for her to see the scenes happening below her, able to make out the smallest of details even hundreds of feet below. She could see quite a few drug dealing going down between both mutant and human, but she didn't care. Let them have their fun— it was none of her business! She could see drunk men and women stumbling home or into their cars from late nights at the bar. She could see those four turtle brothers hanging around, doing whatever it is they do. It was of no concern to her that night— as long as they stayed far away from her. A moment of thought passed through her considering if they could have done something to her annoying friend, but she quickly brushed past it. The turtles absolutely adored Pete, often leaving their pizza scraps for him to find so he’d always have something to fill his belly. They would never hurt the careless creature.

Her eyes continued to search for several more minutes until they locked on a scuffle in an alleyway. She looked even closer and dove lower to made out the details. It wasn’t like Pete to get in a physical altercation with anyone, but it was better to be safe when it came to the safety of the mutant pigeon. What she found were a pair of two brutish mutants laughing as they help down a tiny mutant with very little effort on their part, guffawing as the mutant flapped his wings desperately in an attempt to escape.

“Pete…”

She started to circle in the sky, watching the every move of those monsters as they terrorized her friend. Her friend! And she couldn’t be more furious. She tucked her wings in tight for a sudden dive, then started to circle the alleyway more closely. Humans be damned, she was going to help her friend whether she was spotted or not! Another sharp dive and another circle as she searched for an open place to land. With her wingspan, landing always proved to be a difficult feat. Each wing spanned fifteen feet, enough to give her the force to lift herself from the ground even at her great size. She knew she wouldn’t be able to land properly in the alley itself, it was far too narrow, but the road offered an almost perfect landing strip…

***

“I’m sorry!” Pete whimpered as he still tried to escape, pants and Fanny pack ripped off and his contents dumped all over, as well as all the soda he had on his belt. They dumped it on his head and wings and made his feathers feel all heavy and sticky. “I’M PETE!”

“You said that already!” Rocksteady kicked Pete over and laughed as Bebop walked over with one of the pizza boxes.

“You want pizza so badly little man? Here you go!” He dumped the hot cheese all over Pete’s chest and smeared it in down to his blood feathers, twisting it as deep as he could manage while Pete screeched with the heat.

“Aww, poor birdie! I thought you liked pizza.” Rocksteady laughed, “Or— I’m sorry, bread-disks!”

“I’m sorry!” Pete whimpered, trying to flap his heavy wings, “I’m Pete— I’m Pete—”

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

The screech came from the road and made both Bebop and Rocksteady look up with curious grunts. Before they could do much more than look, the flash of gray and black was upon them and talons dug into their flesh, targeting the soft of their stomach. Bebop in particular took the brunt of the sickle-claws, and he was left with four large gashes in his stomach that immediately started to bleed profusely.

“Hey— ow, that hurt!” Bebop and Rocksteady backed up as one, laughing off the pain as they tried to get a better look at their frankly powerful attacker.

It was another bird, this one twice as big and twice as strong. The majority of her feathers were a light gray, but her wings were black and tipped with white. They were folded upward, the majority of their size hidden from view, with the highest feather almost three feet above her head. Her face was white with a striped pattern of black and her eyes of white stared back at them. She had a torn wrapping on her chest, and a loincloth around her waist.

“That was the point.” She gave an almost evil hiss as she hopped forward, stepping between the brutes and Pete.

Rocksteady gave a concerned grunt when he smelled the blood pulling from Bebop’s belly, and he turned to the falcon with a furious snort as he dug a foot into the stone. “YOU GON PAY FOR THAT!”

Before Rocksteady could complete his charge, Koya locked her talons around Pete’s shoulder and hoisted him onto her back, sprinting off and spreading her wings the moment they entered the streets. Rocksteady still charged, but missed completely and instead started to roar curses at the birds as they disappeared into the night sky.