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nosleepfoxtales · 6 months

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I do i.t. for the supernatural. Today I met the off-brand three stooges.

"So, ah, what did you do once the slime had, um, given birth to you?"

I sighed. My therapist was doing her best with what I was giving her. It's hard when one person is thinking metaphorical and the other literal.

"Well. I still had it's many children clinging to my jacket and slacks, so I shook myself off like a wet dog," I wasn't even sure this therapy was helping me. To her, I was just having some very fucked up dreams.

I didn't lie to her. But when someone tells you they were eaten and birthed by a giant green cube, it's hard not to have a little doubt.

"Hmm. And what did you feel then? Free? Unburdened?"

A snorted chuckle was all I could muster because to be honest, I felt PISSED. Less like the ham stuck in a poorly designed 1960's jello mold, but still pissed. Was it ham? What the hell were they putting in that jello, anyways? Who's idea was that? The original creeped me out, so I definitely didn't have any love for it's apparent descendant, cube mother.

I held back the sigh this time, "Like I need to address my problems head on."

and find that bastard Eli and get some answers, I added in my head.

After our session, I went straight to Moe's, my favorite hookah bar. No relation to the simpsons, I assumed, as it was run by a jovial Indian man named Gaurov. I had been trying for two years to pronounce his name and was still butchering it, but he was always very nice about it.

"Pi-pi!" his eyes lit up as soon as he saw me, golden irisis filled with mirth.

"You have to find a better nickname, Gau."

"Okay, I'll GO right now!" he laughed, a deep belly laugh and slid a red hookah from the counter beside him, "Pi-pi, this flavor is called Sex on the Beach. If you're not getting it, you can at least taste it."

I scowled at his grin, shaking one fist at him while using the other hand to snatch the hookah.

"Who wants to fuck on the beach, man? Do you want sand in your nethers? I didn't think so," I plopped a guard on the tip of the pipe and took a good breath in, "Not bad, though."

"What I can do for you, miserable lady?"

"I need to talk to Eli. He's not picking up my calls and the last job he sent me to is going to be the most challenging case of my therapists career."

He laughed again.

"Haven't seen him, milady. You've got some jello in your hair, did you know?" he picked a piece out of a shock of hair next to my ear, "Someone was hungry."

My face was going to get stuck in a scowl if I didn't stop, so I smiled at him, making some excuse, and we chatted for a bit about his grandkids and his various Nascar bets.

"You know you're the only non-white trash person who watches Nascar, right?"

He pouted, shook his head in mock sadness.

"White people can't have nothing nowadays, can they?"

Once I left the bar, I intended to just keep calling Eli until he picked up, but not even 20 paces past, I was jerked off the street into an alley. I stamped my boot in a puddle and got mud all over my jeans.

"Dude!" I yelled, unceremoniously.

"I'm not a dude." the voice was deep, harsh, bubbling, "And no one can hear you, so screaming is a waste of both of our time."

I gaped up at the man who was speaking. He was broad-shouldered, in a deep grey suit and shiny black shoes. His hair was nicely tucked against his head, an ebony matte, very sleek looking.

I didn't say "You look like a dude to me," because one, well, I'm nonbinary so who am I to assume people's gender.

But second and more importantly, the two figures beside him were definitely not human. Crouching back in the shadows, hunched over and poised with a restlessness that said they were ready to spring at a word, lackeys was the only word that could come to mind. A human man wouldn't have paranormal lackeys hanging on his every word.

They were both horrible, but in opposite directions. One was fat and unkempt, his clothes loose and his face stuck in a scowl.

See? I thought manically, It does get stuck that way.

The other was like a business slender man, far too tall and gangly, hunched over and seeming to lean on the wall for support. They both wore the same style of suit but it didn't fit either of them like it did the main guy, hanging loosely in some places and clinging tightly to non-human shapes in others. I couldn't make out either of their faces very well, besides noting the displeasure in both.

I had been alternating between gaping up at this guy and nervously sliding glances towards his henchmen for 30 seconds, so I cleared my throat and tugged my shirt down, Picard style.

"Uh, what can I do for you, big guy?"

"I am not a 'guy', either. You are a human," his voice was deadpan.

"uh, yes, i, um, am," my glance slid for the first time toward the street, which was odd for me since I'm always looking for an exit plan. I guess I was just flabbergasted by being accosted by Benny and the jets in broad daylight. But a shimmery filter seemed to separate me from the street. Even the light in the bubble we were in seemed replicated, like warm fluorescent lighting.

"You have been playing with a man named," he paused, seeming to think as my attention was snapped back to him, "Eli? Is it?"

He took a step towards me, and I hit the wall of the alley taking one back as well.

"Uh, I'm not sure playing is the right word," I stammered, one hand flat against the wall behind me. The long skinny form behind him growled a low growl, seeming to vibrate. He shoved off the wall and began clambering towards me.

Fuck. Of all the times to be unarmed. My therapist got nervous whenever I brought blades into the office, especially since the ones that I'd need for protection were pretty sizeable. Plus a lot of them had 'sacrificial' in the name, which she also wasn't a fan of.

I squeaked and leaned as far back against the wall as I could, but Boss man gave him a cold over-the-shoulder look and he stopped dead. He muttered miserly, before slowly returning to his awkward lean against the brick.

"He has been here too long," he sent a wistful glance to our left, into the main street where dozens of humans strode along the sidewalk carefree, "He needs to go home."

His glance flicked back to me and the entire power of his cobalt blue gaze hit me all at once. His eyes would have been attractive had he been human, but the light green ring around the outside of his pupil gave him away. Olive colored and sapping darkness from the deep blue iris, the ring constantly moved, shaking as it circled the pupil. As it was, it just made me feel like prey being played with by a predator.

"You will refrain from contacting him or there will be consequences. Is that understood?"

He seemed like the kind of guy who was used to his questions being rhetorical, even the idea of refusing comical. It lit a small fire in me, chasing the cold of fear out for a moment.

"Listen, not-dude and not-guy, I'm a contractor, okay? I go to who pays me. Keep your quabbles between you," my voice started strong but shrank bit by bit until I was almost whispering the last word.

The goonies behind him had seemed to swell half their size, and the light in the bubble slowly transitioned from the dull blue to a light glowing pink as he stared steadily down into my face.

Feeling like a coward but not really caring because I, you know, like to live, I started sputtering.

"Look, there's a thousand other people on this block alone that can do what I do. Taking out ONE of his techs isn't going to get him to do what you want. Honestly, I'm not sure what will, he's the most stubborn dud- uh being I've ever met. If you're having issues, I know a great therapist," I finished weakly.

"ENOUGH," Slender business man screamed loud enough for me to flinch and cover my ears like a kid at a concert. He slammed his fists into the wall to shove off and began rushing towards me, his clambering steps bouncing his small gangly head.

I noticed a smell I hadn't before, which I wouldn't have recognized without Eli's interference. I mean, honestly, how many of you know what brimstone smells like? It really didn't give me much help for the current situation, but I filed it away for just in case I survived.

Before I could move a muscle, the man in front of me snapped his fingers and slender business man exploded. Like, full on, inside out, exploded. Pieces of him rained down as I stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the gory rain coming down around us.

"Ah!" I flinched back as a piece landed on my arm and burned it's way down. I frantically wiped it on my pants, the true victim in all this, and suddenly I noticed why his stride was so imbalanced.

In his wake, his footprints were imprinted into the cement. He appeared to be melting through the concrete with every step, the footprints cutting off right where he exploded.

"Okay, bud," I started, "And I don't care if you're a bud or not. Either explode me or let me go because I promise you, you're not getting to Eli through me. He's not even picking up my calls."

"Hmm. This might be more troublesome than I first thought."

Beginning to deeply regret my haste, I backed towards the street, the frizz from the barrier pulling my hair to stand on end.

His penetrating gaze bored into me, and as I placed a hand up to the barrier, I saw someone walk by, barely sparing a glance into the alley. But they did look, nonchalantly, and then back to the street. She couldn't see me, I realized, my heart dropping. I was truly alone with this malevolent being and who knows if they'd even leave my body? I was going to just vanish without a trace.

I turned back to see him, hands in pockets, striding towards me calmly, his jacket tails waving casually around his forearms.

I searched my brain for what I could possibly say to him. I didn't even know what he was, let alone how to negotiate for my life from him.

As I was debating my willingness to pray to the ether, he had come up just about chest to chest and I stared up at him, trying to puff myself up. Not sure why, he's not a bear. I guess it's human instinct to try to make yourself look big when cornered.

"You should have listened, Woman."

He raised his hand and I closed my eyes, not wanting to catch sight of any of myself exploding around the alley. Before I could even squeak again, something soft banged against the back of my knees, causing my legs to buckle underneath me. A flash of silver popped up in front of me, topped by a familiar growth of onyx curls.

I let out a short shriek as I landed on my ass, moaning and rubbing my hip.

"She's not a woman, she's a non-binary," Nathan explained simply.

I swore and, ignoring my swollen hip, snatched him backwards.

"Nathan," I hissed, "get the fuck out of here. What the fuck are you doing?"

"You're not supposed to say 'Fuck'," he said.

"You're not supposed to say fuck, Nathan. I say fuck because I have very good reasons. Now-"

"How come you're not calling me squirt anymore?" he asked, sulking.

My emotions could not have been more upheaved at this moment. Nathan is Eli's nephew, whom I had been tasked with babysitting not long ago. With how obsessed this guy was with Eli, this was the absolute worst place for Nathan to be. My resignation at being taken out by an anime character was quickly replaced with a fresh batch of fear.

"Squirt, please, blink back home and I'll come visit you, soon, okay?" I was pleading with him, clutching him by his slender shoulders. My shaking voice was not going to be able to summon the mom voice by the time this kid was a splat against the concrete.

"Olgir?"

Nathan did a 180, gazing up at mr. scary eyes and squealing with glee.

"Uncle Sloane!"

I groaned loud enough for people outside the bubble to hear, and the man mirrored me to my surprise.

"You've gotta be kidding me." I moaned.

"How do you know my nephew?" Sloane asked, then dipped his head, "Ah, obviously. My brother put you together."

"Brother?" I squeaked, furious, "You were going to kill me so your brother would come home for a freaking visit?"

He lifted his chin, looking down his nose at me.

"I wasn't going to kill you, stupid human. I was just going to put you in another universe where you wouldn't be in my way," he sniffed and adjusted his jacket, pulling down his sleeves.

I was incredulous.

"Oh, okay, well that's fine then," I said bitterly, and somewhat shockily.

"Uncle Sloane, that's mean," Nathan frowned up at him, "Auntie Piper is my friend."

"Oh, Auntie Piper is it?" he asked, bemused, his enourmous hands shoved back in his pockets.

"Where is Uncle Eli, Olgir?" Sloane asked, particular poison in the words Uncle Eli.

"Uncle Sloan," Nathan elongated his name, emphasizing it, "Up here, you call me Nathan. 'You can call me Nathan', right, Auntie Piper?"

He was beaming at me but I could only stare at him in a stupor, alternating my gaze between him and Sloane.

"Is there anyone in this family not trying to kill me? Just curious," I pushed myself up, brushing the stray pebbles from my pants, before heaving a huge sigh and placing my hands on my hips. I was out of emotion, I had wrung myself dry between being snatched by Senpai here and thinking, for the second time this month, that I was about to watch this kid die.

Sloane scoffed.

"My brother would never let a woman die under his care."

"She's not a woman, she's a-"

"I don't care about your petty human politics," he spat, his former ruthlessness bleeding through, "and neither does my brother. He's tolerating it because you're of use to him. Don't let your tiny human mind become confused into thinking he cares for you."

"Okay, Jordan Peterson," I replied, chuckling at his confused expression. Now that he was scowling, I definitely saw the resemblance to Eli.

"How many times must I remind you, I am not a dude, and I am not a guy, and I am not a Jordan Peterson."

"Okay, Sloane, first off, I was never under the delusion that he 'cares for me'," I bunny quoted with my hands even though I doubted he knew that particular piece of human culture, "I've still got fucking sentient jello in my hair."

He cocked his head, clearly still confused, and I decided tutoring whatever he was in the human world was beyond my abilities at that moment.

"And second of all, I'm just hired help, okay? I'm not the one keeping him here, and away from," I gestured wildly, "wherever it is you're from. You need to talk to him, not me."

"Hmm." he said in a sound of dismissal.

"Come, Olg-," he sighed in disgust, "Come, Nathan. Let's go see if we can find Uncle, hmm?"

Nathan gave me a friendly wave and skipped off, hand in hand with my would be executioner. Or...travel agent, I guess? I peeked around them and saw the fatter of the lackeys melting into mist, leaving a pile of soggy clothes to rot in the alleyway.

Frazzled but out of energy to think about it, I watched them stroll away before returning to Moe's and checking my phone. Six missed calls from Eli.

"You better be dead," read a text from him.

Oh, don't you worry, Eli, I thought, this was a call I couldn't wait to return.

#scary stories #short stories #nosleep #series

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ghostsy · 2 years

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A Spotted Mind

WARNINGS: yandere, abuse of power, possessiveness, nsfw, smut, non-consensual implications, implied kidnapping

A/N: i'm not sure how i feel about this, but it took me longer than it should've, so i'm posting it. ^^

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! SHINSO HITOSHI X READER

“I don’t understand.”

“Look, I know it isn’t exactly fair, but–”

“No. I mean, I don’t understand.” Calloused hands ran through purple locks, pulling, tugging, anything to alleviate the building frustration.

“Years. Years risking my life, years saving lives, years doing everything a hero is supposed to fucking do.” There was a humourless laugh cutting through the words.

This couldn’t be fucking happening. He started pacing, hands unsure, clenching and unclenching their fists, rubbing down his face.

“And where does that get me? Back in elementary school apparently, where everyone’s scared of the freak with the villain’s quirk.” His eyes hardened, flashing with memories he thought he’d long buried, fears he had long killed.

“Stop.” His former mentor’s voice, monotonous as ever, made him pause; he turned to meet his eyes–well eye and eye patch. “Those are the terms, like it or not. And while I, personally, err on the side of not, that won’t get us anywhere.”

“So what? I don’t have any choice? Let the Hero Commission fuck about with my life all they want, or give up my hero license? You can’t be serious.”

The black haired man sighed, “Things are a little different than in my day, kid. Even underground heroes have to appeal to the public now–”

He scoffed, “I’d hardly say I’m the most unlikeable hero. Or did they happen to forget the guy who explodes buildings and yells at reporters like it’s a sport? Oh, but he’s number two, and makes tween girls wet, so fuck me, I guess.”

“You can sit here throwing a pity party for yourself, if that’s what you want. But you have a choice to make: give up the dream you’ve worked so hard to achieve, the dream you’ve bled for, the dream people have died for…” Uncrossing his arms, his mentor pushed off the wall.

“Or,” He headed for the door, hand catching on the frame, “Go to therapy.”

He paused, turning; a sly smile played at his lips, “Who knows, you might actually like it.”

. ♡ .

“Nice to meet you! No…Nice to meet you! Ugh, that’s worse. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

She huffed out a sigh, smoothing over her pencil skirt in the floor length mirror, and shook the nerves from her body. She squared her face into a serious expression, reaching a hand towards her reflection.

“Nice to meet you, Mr…” Her hand hung mid air, eyes searching the ceiling for an answer before she groaned, smacking a hand over her face. “What am I even supposed to call him? His hero name? Or…is that too impersonal?”

She started pacing, “No. You don’t know him, you aren’t friends.” Her hands rubbed at her face, “But this is supposed to be a comfortable environment.”

She didn’t hear the knock at her door as she muttered to herself, “Hero name or real name. Hero name or real name…eenie meenie–”

“Uhh, am I interrupting something?”

She yelped, jumping a bit in her skin, before scrambling to contain herself.

“Ah! Hello!” She cleared her throat in an attempt to rid herself of the squeakiness, “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Mr–” She tripped over the plush chair in front of her on her way to greet him, only to be caught by toned arms instead of old leather.

He helped her up as she dusted herself off, flustered, and embarrassed. Looking into lilac eyes, she found indifference and annoyance. How should she deal with this?

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. That was incredibly unprofessional.” She sighed, introducing herself, “How would you like me to address you?”

He gave her his name, “I’m not exactly a working hero right now, anyway.” His face twisted in irritation, and she made a mental note, painting a pleasant smile on her lips.

“The Hero Commission informed me of your situation. I promise, spend the next six months with me, and I’ll send you home with a stamp of approval, and then you can get right back to saving lives.” She giggled a bit, reaching a hand to her face like a schoolgirl sharing a secret, “But, between you and me, I think this is complete bullshit.”

His eyes widened a fraction in surprise, softening a bit, and she fist pumped in her mind. Nailed it!

“In any case, we should get started. Sit, please.” She gestured to the couch across from them, and he took a seat. She cleared her throat as she sat herself in her chair, “I assume you know why you’re here with me today?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah.”

A beat. Nope, okay, that’s all she was getting right now. Time to change tactics.

“You know, since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together these next few months, it might be best to get to know each other a bit before diving in head first. Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

His eyes scanned her, analyzing, sizing her up, “You look a little young to be a therapist.”

Internally she sighed, she was expecting that one, “I’m twenty-four, so you’re technically correct. However, I assure you, I am more than qualified.”

He scoffed a bit, “What, am I your first client or something?”

“As someone who has worked as a hero since age fifteen, I’m sure you understand that there is no age requirement to start helping people.” She supposed it was her fault for opening this door in the first place.

He huffed, rolling his eyes, “Whatever you say, doc.”

Well, that was annoying. She sighed, No, she could do this.

“Do you know why the Hero Commission sent you to me?”

“Like I said, I–”

“No.” She kept the pleasant smile on her face. No time like the present, she supposed, “I mean, why they sent you to me.”

He was growing agitated, she could tell, “No.”

“Well, I may know a thing or two about having a villainous quirk.”

. ♡ .

So she could read minds. Big deal. He kicked a stray rock along the sidewalk as he walked home. He huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. That was hardly villainous. It’s not like she could do anything with that. He could mind control, for fuck’s sake.

But, he paused, he supposed he could see her point. He’d spent a good part of their hour and a half session on edge, wondering if she had looked into his mind, violated his privacy.

She had given him a sheepish smile, and assured him she wouldn’t use her quirk without his permission. To which he became even more suspicious. If she wasn’t reading his mind, how did she know what he was thinking?

“How do I know what you’re thinking if I’m not reading your mind, right?” She’d giggled. He had had half a mind to walk out right there.

“Believe it or not, you’re an incredibly easy person to read. Your emotions are written all over your face.”

Well, fuck you too, then. No one on the planet had ever told him that. In fact, he took pride in the monotonous, uncaring mask he’d perfected over the years.

“Oh, please don’t take offense,” She fiddled with her fingers before looking back up at him, “it’s…a side effect. Of my quirk. I can’t really turn that part off–the…understanding people part.”

She was an endearing little thing, he’d give her that. “S’fine.” He’d avoided her gaze in part embarrassment, and part annoyance. No. He wasn’t supposed to like her. This whole thing was happening against his will.

He huffed out a sigh, eyes following the setting sun. Six months. Six months, and he’d be free. He could do that. But he’d be damned if he enjoyed it.

. ♡ .

“Bullshit.”

She laughed, almost doubling over when she met his dull eyes, “I’m serious!”

“You’re just trying to one up me right now; there’s no way you got expelled for using your quirk,” He scoffed.

“I did!” She stifled her laughter to explain, “Granted, I’d read the teacher’s mind to get answers to a test, so it wasn’t completely unwarranted.”

He quirked an eyebrow, and she knew she was being judged, “In my defense, I was like twelve, and terrible at algebra.”

He remained unimpressed, “So you cheated,” he crossed his arms, “How did they even know you used it?”

“Well, I have to make eye contact, you know,” He nodded as she explained, “So, it’s not exactly discreet, but–”

“Okay, but if you’re in someone’s mind, how would they know that?”

“Let me finish! So, I’m flipping through Mrs. Kamakura’s mind, and–”

“Flipping?”

“Mhmm! People’s minds are like…storybooks. You get little flashes of images as you–sort of think of it as–as you’re flipping the page,” She paused, “Wait, you don’t get that?”

“What the fuck? No, IMAX, I don’t get that. It’s like…” He trailed off, eyes searching for the explanation, “It’s like once I’ve got them, I’m holding a leash, and wherever I guide, they follow. There’s no image, just a feeling of…control.”

She blinked, and he nearly cursed himself for freaking her out, only to be met with the sound of laughter, “Wait, wait, so–oh my god–that’s like, you gotta know that sounds kinky as fuck, right?”

He felt his face heat, and while he knew he should be disgusted, he let his mind flash with an image: he had to admit, she’d look good like that, at his feet, eyes wide, thighs pressed together in anticipation of what he’d make her do next—thank god she was too much of a goody two shoes to look inside.

He squared his face back to neutral, “I could have your license revoked for that, you know.”

She settled, a warm smile at her lips as she shrugged, “You’re more than welcome to take your complaints up with the Hero Commission, but I can’t guarantee your next therapist will be nearly as fun as me.”

He rolled his eyes, fighting back a smile, “You’re hardly a therapist.”

“Oh my god,” She gasped mockingly, “You are so rude! No wonder you got stuck with me.”

He laughed, and as he caught sight of the twinkle in her eyes, a feeling he couldn’t quite place bubbled in his chest.

. ♡ .

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Look, I know it’s not exactly a pleasant memory, but–”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it.” He crossed his arms, avoiding her gaze.

She sighed out his name, “You’ve been coming to see me for a few weeks now, and we have yet to even talk about the reason you’re here in the first place.” She really did like talking casually with him, but she had a job to do, never mind how he huffed at her like a petulant child.

“You’re the one who said that reason is bullshit, so I don’t know why you’re pressing the issue.”

Yep. She knew that would come back to bite her.

“Just because it’s bullshit doesn’t mean it has no consequences,” She was trying so hard to stay the good guy; she finally felt like he’d started to trust her, “I understand what it’s like to–”

“You don’t understand anything. So you got kicked out of school when you were twelve for cheating on a test,” He scoffed, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have the people you’re trying to help look at you like you’re a—like you’re a fucking monster?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off.

“No, you don’t,” His eyebrows knit together in frustration, “I’m out there trying to save the lives of people who hate me while you’re in here making small talk with whoever’s unlucky enough to pass through your door. It’s not the same thing.”

There was a beat of silence, and something twisted in his chest when he caught a glimpse of the kicked puppy look that crossed her face. Before he could apologize she began speaking.

She rolled her lip between her teeth, sighing, “You know, you’re the first hero client I’ve ever had.” He opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t finished, “I mean, technically, you were right, I haven’t really had clients before, either.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, “Then, what–”

“I told you I was expelled from school when I was twelve, but I never told you that that was the last school I ever went to,” A melancholy look glazed over her eyes, “Somewhere along the line, don’t ask me how, the Hero Commission was informed of my quirk–apparently mind reading is rarer than you think.”

She started to fiddle and pull at her fingers as she avoided his gaze, “I spent the next six years in special schooling, before interrogating captured villains for the Hero Commission,” A humourous laugh left her, “my parents were just so excited at the prospect of their little girl being some type of hero.”

“But, you know,” Her voice started to shake, “When you’re invading someone’s mind, stealing their thoughts, no matter how many bad things they’ve done, no matter how villainous they claim to be,” she swallowed the unshed tears, eyes hardening, “When they fight, and claw, and beg for you to just please, get out of their head, you don’t feel like anyone’s hero.”

He knew the feeling well, and as he listened, he found a sort of familiarity in her words. Had anyone been able to put his thoughts into words before?

She smiled a bitter smile, “So, yeah, I know what it’s like to be looked at like a…fucking monster.”

He swallowed, hating the break in her voice. “I didn’t know that.”

She cleared her throat, “As the years went by, I wasn’t just interrogating villains, I was talking to them, helping them,” Her eyes shifted, “They’re people too, you know. They deserve a chance just like the rest of us–to change.”

That bubbling feeling in his chest started to boil. He decided he kind of liked it. The warmth of it. Of her.

She huffed out another laugh, “So imagine my surprise when the Hero Commission came to me with a new challenge. Not a villain. But a hero. A hero to help.” She finally met his gaze, “You.”

. ♡ .

She tossed a few newspaper articles on the glass table in between them, gesturing for him to sort through them. He rolled his eyes, reluctantly obliging.

“Well?” She asked earnestly.

He quirked a brow, lifting his gaze to meet hers, “Well?”

“How do those articles make you feel?”

He scoffed, “Oh, fuck off.”

She laughed lightly, “I’m serious. Come on, tell me. How do they make you feel?”

“You know, for a fake therapist, you’re awfully stereotypical.”

“Now you fuck off, I’m not a fake therapist,” Her lips pulled into a crooked grin, “You know, if you don’t wanna talk about it, I could always take a peek? Would just take a second.” Her smile turned mischievous.

He hated the way his chest warmed, a smile pulling at his lips, “What, you spill your deep dark secrets to me, and it only takes two months to start threatening me?”

“I’m not threatening you.”

The singsong in her voice made him want to take her over his knee. Brat. Wait. Fuck–he really needed to stop thinking of her like that. But he couldn’t help the way his cheeks heated as he imagined it.

Ass on full display, glowing red. Hands numb as he trapped them in one of his own while she cried. Her hair sticking to her face with the wetness, begging for his forgiveness. He’d give it to her, of course he would. But, he’d tell her, stroking the dome of his canvas, she needed to earn it first.

He shook himself from his thoughts and rolled his eyes playfully, turning back to the articles.

‘UNDERGROUND HEROES: ARE THEY REALLY HERE TO PROTECT YOU?’

and another few with his hero name plastered at the top,

‘MIND CONTROL HERO USES QUIRK ON UNSUSPECTING CIVILIANS’

and

‘HERO OR VILLAIN IN DISGUISE? THE TRUTH ABOUT AN UNDERGROUND HERO.’

“I feel like these are complete bullshit.”

She looked unimpressed, “Bullshit is not a feeling.”

He searched her eyes for mercy, and found none, “Fine,” he groaned, “I feel angry. I feel like no matter what I do, I just can’t fucking win; I’m always the bad guy, like this one–”

He pulled up the second article, “Unsuspecting civilians?” He scoffed, “I was responding to a domestic violence call, sue me for telling a guy to stop beating his wife.”

“And this one,” He pulled out another, “What, villain in disguise? Just cause the paparazzi got a picture of me half awake at four in the goddamn morning, and I had the audacity to look annoyed?”

He went on, listing the problems with each and every one, before sighing. “I just don’t understand. Tabloids print stupid rumours about heroes all the time, but because of my quirk, everyone thinks they somehow must be true?”

He was getting heated, hands becoming animated as he spoke, “What? I make one real mistake, and I’m suddenly like some burnt out celebrity who gets sent to rehab, so that they can get back in society’s good graces. It’s…bullshit.”

“You know,” He laughed a bit in disbelief, “I don’t give a shit if you’re a fake therapist or not, I’m telling you this in confidence, okay?” He looked up at her.

Startled a bit at the abrupt pause, her eyebrows raised, but she nodded quickly in affirmation, gesturing for him to continue.

“It’s almost like they want me to be a villain,” he huffed, hands pulling at his hair, “And…and sometimes…sometimes I feel like…maybe I’d be better off as one.”

His eyes shifted, “No,” searching desperately for the words, “That’s not true,” he sighed, hands rubbing at his face.

“For once,” he lifted his gaze, “Just for once, I’d like to be someone’s hero,” his eyes seemed to burn so intensely into hers that she had to remind herself to breathe.

“I want someone to look at me and think, that’s my hero.”

. ♡ .

She fiddled with her fingers as she stood in front of the boardroom, willing herself not to rock back and forth on her heels. Her eyes scanned the room, searching the faces for any discernible shifts in emotion.

“And you’re positive?” One of the men finally spoke, “It’s only been four months–the agreement was six.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by another, scratchier voice.

“You’re kidding, right?” He scoffed, “four months of chitchat, and you’re ready to send him back into the field?”

Someone else cleared their throat, “I’m inclined to agree–the severity of the situation demands more promising results than simply your word.”

She nodded, and, at the ensuing silence, realized that was her cue, “Ah! Yes, well. I really do think we’ve made progress. Of course, I’m willing to wait two more months, but–”

“But he has some of the best capture numbers on the Hero Billboard,” The man at the head of the table interrupted, “It’s in our best interest to get him back to work as soon as possible. If you’re sure we can assure the public of the anomaly of the matter–”

“She hasn’t even used her quirk,” The man with the scratchy voice interrupted, “At least give us that assurance,” He scoffed, “The man publicly dismembered a villain on national television.”

“With all do respect, sir, he didn’t dismember anyone,” She interjected, letting her annoyance get the better of her for a moment before containing herself, “While I agree the reaction was extreme–”

“And the fact that children watched as a man ripped his own limbs off.” Another scoffed.

She cleared her throat, “Yes, well,” Her eyes shifted, searching for the answer, “Had he done nothing, none of those children would have lived to see another day–lest we forget the damage those limbs were capable of–he’s a hero, at the end of the day,” She was getting heated again, “He did his job; we should all be grateful.”

There was a beat of silence as the words were absorbed, and the man at the head of the table finally spoke, “I trust your judgment,” Her eyes nearly lit up, but then, “But, I also see the appeal of assurance we can give the public. Look into his mind–the knowledge that this won’t happen again, that he isn’t a threat, will ensure we don’t end up right back here in a few months time.”

She deflated, but regained her composure, swallowing the unease building in her chest, “Yes, sir.”

. ♡ .

“No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on! I just wanna know what it feels like. You’re the only person I’ve met with a quirk even similar to mine–”

“I said, No.”

“How ‘bout we make a deal?” She stamped down the building feelings of guilt–this was the only way to help him, really help him.

He turned the words over in his mind, “What deal?”

Stop it. This is for the best. “You use your quirk on me, just like I asked.”

His eyes dulled, “I’m not seeing the deal part of this arrangement.”

“Hear me out,” There was a thrumming of anxiety in her chest, “You use your quirk on me, and to make it fair, I use mine on you. That way we’re both equally culpable.”

There was a beat of silence before he snorted, “Never knew you were such a pervert, doc.”

Her face heated, and she tripped over her words, “That’s not what I mean!” She huffed, collecting herself, “You don’t want to use your quirk on me, and I don’t want to use my quirk on you–this way, we both have to do something we don’t want.”

“Who says I want you in my mind, pervert?” His eyes narrowed playfully.

“Stop calling me that, or I swear I’ll make sure you’re stuck with me ‘till you die.”

“Would that be so terrible?” He surprised himself with the words, but the way her cheeks heated soothed his own embarrassment. Fine, he figured, he’d give her a bone. “Alright, alright, don’t blow a gasket, deal.”

“Really?” She nearly sighed from relief, but then he continued.

“But” He told her, “You better stay surface level, I don’t need you seeing all that dark shit in my brain.”

It was her turn to narrow her eyes, scanning him for a moment, before deciding, “...Do you look at foot fetish por–”

“Okay!” He interrupted, flustered, “ Deal’s off.”

“Nooo!” She whined, “I take it back, I was kidding, please.”

She paused a moment, “You know, you shouldn’t be ashamed, everyone has their own ki–”

“I swear to God, I’ll use my quirk on you just to get you to shut the fuck up.”

She hummed, content, “Lovely,” She gestured for him to continue, “take it away.”

He rolled his eyes, “I have to ask you a question, what are you, stupid?”

“Hey–!” And she was gone.

He found himself staring into blank pupils, and missing the color. Though, he couldn’t help the giddiness that bubbled in his chest of having her under his control. Fuck. He knew he shouldn’t have done this. She was wrong–he enjoyed the fantasy of this moment far too much–it was her fault for pressing the issue in the first place.

He shook himself from his thoughts, opting to scan across her body. How easy it would be. He thought. She wouldn’t even remember. He could be buried balls deep inside her, ruin her, and she’d be none the wiser. But, he sighed, he’d really rather her a conscious participant.

He glanced down at the table where a glass of water sat in front of her. She’d be so pissed. But, he’d be able to see her tits through her ruined white blouse without committing a felony. Yeah, that would do just fine.

“Pick up that glass of water.” She obeyed. “Pour it over yourself.” She did. Well, fuck. He knew he’d enjoy the view, but felt embarrassed at the growing tightness in his pants.

I mean, he hadn’t let her go just yet–he could alleviate himself–No. He told himself. He promised he’d behave. He waited a little while for the bulge in his pants to die down before releasing her.

“Wha–” She groaned, but it fell to a whine when she felt the wetness on her chest, “Are you kidding me? You are such an asshole!”

He huffed out a laugh as she lamented the ruined shirt, “Hey, you made your bed–I told you I didn’t want to do it.”

“Fuck you,” she said, stamping, and twisting at the shirt with her hands, “You owe me a new shirt.”

He shrugged, “Your turn, doc,” He paused, would she see those dirty thoughts of his? “Surface level, okay? Surface level.”

She nodded, smiling a bit when he handed her his jacket–-only for her to use it as a towel, wiping at her shirt. He really couldn’t win, could he?

“It’ll be easier to do that if you relax,” She adjusted herself in her seat, meeting his eyes, “That way, no stray thoughts pop up in your brain that you don’t want me to see. Otherwise, I won’t be able to control what I find.”

He wondered if she was aware of his thoughts already, but a look in her eyes, and he found nothing but earnest innocence, trust. He sighed internally, the shit he’d do for her.

“Fire away, doc.”

It was always a bit strange at first. Storybook analogy aside, everyone’s mind formulated its thoughts a bit differently, and each time she’d have to navigate a different type of maze. She made a point to look only for what she came for, no matter how curious she became. But, as she sorted through his mind, she couldn’t find any truly villainous thoughts.

She sighed internally; she was right. The Hero Commission was wrong. And now, she could give him what he’s wanted these past few months, and send him on his way. Though, she found herself a bit disappointed she wouldn’t be seeing him around anymore. No, she shook herself from her thoughts, Don’t be selfish.

Nothing out of the ordinary; she should leave before things became more complicated, and as if the universe could read her mind, she was met with a flood of thoughts.

He watched as she sat across from him, eyes boring into his, mind elsewhere–well mind inside his. Think normal thoughts, he repeated, think normal thoughts. His eyes caught sight of the sheer fabric sticking to her skin, and he felt himself slip.

There was a flash of him bent over a woman on a desk, her desk–was that her? Her wrists caught in a deadlock by his hand as he rammed into her. She was crying out for him, back arched, ass pressing into the hips that slammed against her. Fuck me. His other hand wound around her hair, yanking her head up to look at him. Fuck me! Kissing up her neck, his teeth left bruises in their wake.

Love me. Sweat dripped down from his brow, and he licked up her cheek, biting at her earlobe. Love me! He took her jaw in his fingers, turning her face to kiss her–she was sure that was her now. Spit glossed their lips as he pulled back, rutting into her in a way that had pornographic whines forced from her throat, drool coating her chin, and staining the desk below them. Her face heated, and she scrambled to leave his mind before finding something newer, something more disturbing.

Oh my god, she thought. Was he walking her on a fucking leash? No. Don’t kinkshame. That’s fine–

Yes, Master. The woman, this abomination that was her, purred. Whatever you want, Master.

He watched her face as she knelt below him. Fingers running down between her tresses and pulling, letting her whine, and squeal, choking as he guided her bloated lips up and down and up and down his cock. Come on, He told her, Beg me, a sharp smile, canines dripping, Beg me to let you breathe. Her tears wet the purple tuft at his v-line, lips stained with precum, eyes shiny and wide, looking up at him as she tried not to spasm from the bulge shoved halfway down her throat. Searching for approval.

It’s just a thought he can’t–

They were on a bed. She was crying–his hands around her throat, fingers curled into the collar secured tightly around her neck–as he fucked into her. Her eyes crossed, tongue hanging from her mouth as her tits rocked from the force. Sweat dripped from his abs to where her legs were spread by his hips. He mouthed at her tits, pulling a nipple between his teeth while he took the other breast in his hand, kneading, squeezing. She was squealing. Please, sir. That didn’t sound like her. Can I cum?

Her hands reached up to tug at his locks, but he forced them into the mattress, fingers intertwining with her own. He snorted, You cum when I say you can, pet. She whined as his hips sped their motions, moaning, and turning, trying and failing to pull her hands from beneath his grip.

Please, Master, can I cum Master? I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good, Master. That god forsaken collar tethered her to the bed like a glorified sex doll–little bell jingling each time he thrust into her. He laughed, and she couldn’t help the chill in her bones. Who do you belong to, huh? His breath ragged from exertion, Tell your Master who you belong to.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

She forced herself out of his mind, heart threatening to break out of her chest.

He looked startled as she came to, and she willed her breathing to slow, swallowing the nerves screaming at her inside her mind. She couldn’t read the emotion that crossed his face, but his eyebrows raised as he waited for her to say something.

She let out a shaky breath, forcing out a laugh, “So,” She swallowed, “Kind of disappointed I didn’t find that foot fet–”

He snorted, “Fuck off,” She followed, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

. ♡ .

“So, that’s it?”

“There’s already a message out to the press,” His mentor told him, “You’re off the hook as soon as it airs.”

“But it’s only been four months?” This didn’t make sense, “What happened?”

“Must have made quite the impression on your therapist,” The older man snorted, “She went right to the Hero Commission, gave them a full clean bill of mental health.”

He knew he should be happy, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. “Can I talk to her?”

The man shrugged, “Don’t see why not, though,” A yawn cut through the words, “heard the Commission’s transferring her–something about the branch in America.”

His heart fell through his chest. She was leaving him without so much as a goodbye? Scratch that. She was leaving him.

“I at least owe her my thanks,” He sighed, eyes hardening in determination, “Let me meet with the Commission."

. ♡ .

She was dodging his calls. A part of her felt badly for her trepidation; he was attracted to her, so what? He was an attractive man. Even she had the stray thought now and then. She’d seen so much worse in the minds of villains, some things that still gave her nightmares. He’s a guy; of course he’s gonna be thinking about sex.

But there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head. She’d been in so many minds, his wasn’t any different. Except it was.

“It’s like once I’ve got them, I’m holding a leash, and wherever I guide, they follow. There’s no image, just a feeling of…control.”

Control.

That was it. He’d enjoyed it in his thoughts. She knew it. A palpable feeling in the atmosphere of his mind, drunk on the idea of controlling her.

She’d joked about his kinks, about sex. Maybe a bit unprofessional, in retrospect. But she was trying to lighten the mood. He was her patient, and she was there to help him, to get him to open up. Sue her for trying to be personable.

But it wasn’t just controlling her in the bedroom, where he imagined her beneath him, kneeling at his feet in reverence, like he was–

Like he was her hero. She realized.

“I want someone to look at me and think, that’s my hero.”

That’s what he had said. She thought it endearing at first, convinced he had more than earned his freedom, but…the way he looked at her,

“You better stay surface level, I don’t need you seeing all that dark shit in my brain.”

There was something darker. Something lurking under the surface. She couldn’t quite place it, losing herself in her thoughts. As she racked her brain for the answer, she didn’t hear the knock at the door.

“Am I interrupting something?”

She jumped, yelping as she turned to catch sight of the purple haired man standing too casually, too comfortably, in her doorway.

“Ah! Oh my god,” She cleared her throat of its squeakiness. She didn’t want to seem vulnerable. “You scared me.”

She stood, not so much to greet him, but in an effort to feel more secure. “Can I ask how you got my address?” She forced a laugh to lighten the atmosphere, “What, you stalking me or something?”

He shrugged, pushing the door closed as he made his way over to her, “Perks of being a working hero,” He paused as he neared her, “Thanks to you.”

Yeah. Way to go. She really tried not to back away as a hand came to brush at her hair, but her feet moved on their own. A look of hurt passed lilac eyes before settling on annoyance. Wow. You nailed it. Shut up.

He cleared his throat, “Heard you were leaving,” He studied her as her fingers started pulling at each other. Not a question. Good. Wait–why was she thinking about that?

“Yeah,” She thought she might rip off one of her fingers with the tension, “They’re opening a new rehabilitation program in–”

“You didn’t say goodbye.” He stepped closer. You know him. Stop freaking out.

“Yes, well, I’m s–” She stepped backward.

“You know,” His eyes flickered to where her hands fidgeted, “You do that when you’re nervous.” A step forward.

“I’m not–” Another step backward.

He sighed, “I told you to stay surface level.” His eyes shifted, and he huffed, “If you’d just stayed surface level,” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She forced a laugh, “I don’t know what you’re–”

“Cut that out.”

She sighed, “I’m sorry,” Maybe he was just angry at her for violating his privacy. That must be it. “That was wrong of me. I understand if–”

“Honestly, did me a favor,” He huffed out a laugh. What. “Don’t know if I’d ever have had the guts in the first place,” Oh. Was this a confession?

She breathed out his name, “Everyone has feelings,” This was fine. Deescalation. This would work. “And you can’t control all your thoughts. Maybe we should start over.”

He looked at her a moment, eyes widening a fraction before softening. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Almost out of the woods. “Would’ve hated for it to go the other way.” The other way?

“The other way?” It tumbled from her mouth before she could stop it.

He shook his head, “Nevermind,” He looked around, “I’ll help you unpack.” What?

“Unpack?” She felt like a goddamn parrot at this point.

“Well, yeah,” He said it as if it were obvious, “Can’t start over if you’re halfway across the world.”

He was being purposely obtuse, right? This was a joke?

She laughed, but his face remained neutral. She cleared her throat, Professional. Be Professional. “While I appreciate the humour, there are people who need my help in Am–”

“You know, The Hero Commission are fucking terrified of me,” he said, eyes hardening, as if gathering resolve. Where was this going?

“Should’ve realized sooner,” His eyes were cutting into hers, “They’d do just about anything to keep up their image.” He stepped forward again.

“Do anything to keep from another incident,” Her back hit the wall. This was wrong. Everything was wrong.

“You said it yourself, I’m not a villain,” Something shifted, and she saw a glimpse of the kind man she’d come to know these past months. He was gone the next second, “I’d really hate it if you made me a villain.”

“Listen, I’m not sure what–”

“Let’s make a deal,” He smirked, “You use your quirk on me, and to make it fair, I use mine on you. That way we’re both equally culpable.”

“I don’t want to–”

“You don’t want to use your quirk on me, and I don’t want to use my quirk on you–this way, we both have to do something we don’t want.”

He was using her own goddamn words against her.

“You go first,” He brought his face to her level, hand pressed to the wall above her, “C’mon, fire away, doc.” She whimpered, She tried to rationalize the situation in her mind. She knew this man. Didn’t she?

Stall, and you’ll figure a way out. Maybe she could find something useful in his mind.

She nodded, swallowing. She shook her nerves, feeling drowned by the lilac eyes in front of her. It wasn’t like the last time she’d been inside. Everything he’d been keeping under the surface bubbled up, overwhelming all her senses. It was suffocating. It was fucking terrifying.

She didn’t like this. She didn’t understand this. What the fuck was she seeing?

“Hey,” His other hand took her jaw between his fingers, eyes inside his mind, but ears open, “How does it feel, huh?” His lips were brushing hers.

“How does it feel to be able to see every single thing I’m gonna do to you, and not be able to do a damn thing about it?”

#yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere shinsou hitoshi #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere shinsou hitoshi x reader #yandere shinso hitoshi x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere shinsou #yandere shinso #shinso is so hard to write for #pls be nice

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soulmate-game · 3 years

Text

Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

#dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat #bio!dad au #Bio!mom Harley Quinn #Bio!Dad joker #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Harley’s Plea for Help #platonic brucinette #platonic jasonette #platonic Harley Quinn x Marinette

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beann-e · 3 years

Text

inspiration from the tiktok audio “ I don’t love you i’m just passing the time “

This was never about you. Honestly you were surprised it took you so long to notice.

No that was a lie you weren’t surprised because it was his fault he never told you flat out that he wasn’t expecting much from you. It’s not that he wasn’t interested he just — he didn’t know what to do. Of course he thought you were beautiful and that’s what scared him but at the same time gave him the energy to talk to you.

His personality was known for leading him to talk to beautiful people.

He was sure he’d never date you because, his heart belonged to kiyoko .

No one could ever top her or at least that’s what he thought until you came along. Here you were in all your beauty putting anyone else to shame that dared to stand next to you.

You were perfect for him and after a couple months you were all his. He adored you even after highschool when you two finally decided to move in together.

he told you every day how much he loved you. His love even trickling down to his actions when he would ask you to do couple things appearing out of no where with a request

‘ y/n how about black hair dye huh ? wanna try something new together i’ll color my hair too ! ‘

you instantly agreeing to every ask all of them ranging from

‘ hey y/n , have you always been able to see? are you sure because you were squinting just awhile ago we can get you glasses I mean I don’t care about price if it’s for you —no no I think we should—let’s do black square rims ? i think they would fit your pretty face ‘

‘ babe when you do your makeup this time try some face designs their so cool I see them all the time on my instagram here — can I try ‘ him smiling before sitting next to you and guiding the eyeliner out of your reluctant hand a tight smile drawn across your face

Him smiling when you turned to the mirror to see a small black dot next to your lips. ‘ you look so pretty with it ‘

You hadn’t noticed until the volleyball reunion when you sat in a circle with all the old members and tsukishimas mouth spilling out his harsh words unbothered by your reaction “ why the hell do we have two kiyokos now? “

his glasses moving down on his nose as he spoke again “ y/n i’m sure we only need one I personally prefer the original she looks more “ his head tilted as his eyes ran over your new look “ natural“

“ yeah I was actually wondering that but I didn’t wanna bring it up first I um y/n are you trying to look like kiyoko or “

your small cough coming out and drawing all the attention back to you as you felt the same woman turn to face you her own eyes now seeing what the others were talking about “ of — of course not I — “

“ eh what the fuck “ your boyfriends voice coming out loudly as he now sat pissed off with the group “ are you pricks trying to say I couldn’t get over kiyoko or some shit “

“ what what no tanaka-san we “ sugawaras voice coming out to try to let the tension fizzle out

“ no because I’m feeling like there’s something being unsaid here“ he grunted “ if anyone has anything else to say badly about my s/o then they should just fuck off “

“ tanaka “ you screamed

“ no i’m tired of people thinking I can’t get shimizu out of my head I can —I can and I will “

“ y-you will ? “

“ I mean I have “ his eyes locked with yours as he spoke low “ I have “

The room grew quiet as he stood the chair he sat in being pushed back as he walked off you standing up too offering a small smile to everyone in the circle “ sorry if you’ll excuse me “

“ your good—I think he needs you a little bit more than we do right now“ daichis voice came out a bit more concerned than he wanted it too

Your figure being seen getting smaller and smaller as you ran after your boyfriend to the kitchen grabbing his arm loosely “ babe I “

“ let go y/n “

“ but I — tanaka what’s up why are you acting like this “

“ I said let the fuck go y/n “ his voice boomed as he yanked his arm from you your body moving back a little due to the strength he’d pulled it back with “ i’m going to go get a drink I can’t handle those assholes alone “

“ your — you’re not alone tanaka i’m with you ill handle them with you “

A smile slowly spreading across your face when he stopped moving only to turn over his shoulder biting his lip as he stood thinking to himself his hand pointing to the kitchen “ for some reason that only makes me need a drink even more “

You nodded softly as he rolled his eyes at you “ you do understand correct ? “

“ yeah yeah no of course “ you smiled tightly as he walked off and you walked back to the crowded living room trying to contain your tears that wanted to spill so badly usually when he acted like this he’d drink himself to sleep.

You sat down on the floor letting yourself join the huddle as everyone spoke you getting lost in your thoughts. It wasn’t often that this happened but when it did it never went the way you would want it to. He would always get distant instead of becoming clingy like you would rather. He’d become meaner with his words instead of thinking of you before speaking like he usually would.

“ prick only ever thinking of himself —a stupid child“ you whispered out thinking of your boyfriend and his future actions that you could already predict

“ yeah shoyos gotta be— the asshole requested it “ kageyama whispered to you as you turned to see hinata sitting across from you waving to you when he met your gaze making you speak softly with a smile “ sweet “

“ hey y/n wanna play dare or dare with us ? “

you shook your head laughing a bit “ what are we teenagers again“ you laughed a bit louder “ but no i’ll — i’ll pass “

“ aw come on your the only other chick here besides kiyoko “

“ no no no you guys go ahead i’ll just watch “

everyone sighed as they began the game you hearing loud steps pound through the house as your boyfriends loud voice cut through the laughter “ what you pricks started without me “

“ yeah uh just join tanaka- san “

“ fuck yeah “ he wobbled over to sit next to daichi not locking eyes with you only smiling at everyone around the table taking a long swig of the liquor bottle he’d sat on the table in his adventure over.

The air that was once tense seemed to calm down as everyone started drinking and suggesting dares. You smiling as you looked at everyone this had to be the best night of your life finally getting to see all your friends again after kageayma and hinata traveled non stop and everyone else never had the time to have a party.

You patted yourself on the back seeing everyone having such a good night.

“ ok ok last dare “ nishinoya burped out as he shakily raised his hand already drunk off his ass his words sluring as he spoke “ I dare tanaka—san to “ he took another gulp from the bottle only to push it aside and open the new one that laid dormant between the two of you “ to kiss the prettiest person in the room “

Everyones eyes widening as they all broke out into a laughing fit “ fucking nishinoyas so stupid “

“ this asshole just wasted a dare on an obvious answer “

hinata rubbing the said males back as his head finally dropped to the table cheek hitting the brown table as he laughed “ ha yeah sure ‘m stupid —real stupid “

he smiled drunkenly laughing at the tables comments “ haha its obviously not that obvious “

Your heart dropped smile only following as you looked from nishinoyas eyes to the scene playing in front of you. Your boyfriends lips locked on another pair that weren’t your own. His hands coming up to the back of her head to push her closer to him as he hungrily pressed his lips onto hers

Her eyes wide as his were closed almost like he was enjoying this “ what “ you whispered out as a rough hand came in contact with tanakas shoulder grabbing it and pulling him back

“ what the fuck you asshole “ tsukishimas voice was threatening as he stared down on the male genuinely confused “ what the hell do you think your doing “

“ hey blondy is that anyway to speak to someone older than you“ he scoffed “ mind your manners child “

“ mind— mind your manners? “ your voice was short and quiet as your eyes darted around the room eyes blinking back the surprise they held as everyone turned to face you only making this deepening pit in your stomach grow.

“ why— tanaka— san why would you do that “

“ what — whatd I do this time suga huh — first it was having a crush on kiyoko everyone was screaming how I wouldn’t get her ha “ he scoffed “ fucking assholes were right so here I am with a fucking backup “

He shook his head as he leaned it back to stare up at the ceiling “ shitty arts and crafts project of building her because I couldn’t have the original — fucking sad “

your heart broke “ sitting here pretending kissing y/n is the same as kissing kiyoko — hell I didn’t even wanna kiss y/n right now i wanted to kiss kiy— “

“ shitty asshole you just did “ tsukishimas voice raised his eyes holding the anger you couldn’t even hold for yourself “ you just did right in front of your s/o “

“ well with them looking the same how the fuck was I suppose to tell “ he laughed “ that’s what you said earlier right ? so what’s so wrong with me enforcing it ? “ he scoffed “ everyone already believed it right so why the fuck does it matter they look the same, act the same , talk the fucking same so in the end I kissed y/n right— ha “

your body hurt just like your heart and your brain was spinning “ why would you — why would you date me tanaka if you didn’t want me “

“ did it look like I was gonna get kiyoko anytime soon — your a ditz — the whole time i’m doing this to get over her and you just became her “

you sat silently blinking back the tears that you held throat holding a sob that wanted to make its way out “ get the fuck out “

“ excuse m—”

“ GET THE FUCK OUT “ you screamed your tears disappearing and turning into anger “ get out get out get out “ you screamed hands reaching out to punch him over the table as you repeated the phrase

“ ok— ok stop stop “

“ no no no get the fuck out I paid for this I paid I paid “ you screaming like a child throwing a tantrum in a supermarket him only moving to stand and walk to the bedroom drunkenly to grab his clothes “ just let me grab my stuff i’ll be out of your hair for the night “

you raged as he made his way into your once shared bedroom forgetting the living room full of people as you ran after him to rip the clothes out of his hand that he held. All the items you’d bought with your hard earned money. The shoes you’d spent over 50$ on for his birthday in his hand along with the limited edition shirt you’d bought for him after he begged for it screaming that was his favorite player.

The items that you’d stayed up four hours for the night of just to buy it for him with your paycheck that week. Your thoughts only making you more upset when you thought back to everything you’d done for the male and the stuff he’d done for y—

he’d done absolutely nothing for you in this whole relationship and this only pissed you off more at the thought

Your heart broke again when you noticed you were already screaming at him again “ get the hell out “

“ i’m going fuck y/n “

“ go faster asshole “

“ what so no clothes ? “ he laughed “ come on that’s pretty harsh —baby it’s cold out give me a jacket or something at least until morning when I come back home “

“ morning “ you scoffed “ you’ll need a jacket for awhile tanaka because your not coming back in my house so freeze your ass off out there or go with your high school crush and her husband “

His once smiling face turning into an angry one as he stepped closer to you the alcohol spilling from his breath and onto your face as he stared down at you “ the fuck are you bringing that up for “

“ your the one who went around kissing a married woman “ you were gonna rub this all in his face. You couldn’t wait until kiyokos husband beat up the drunken deadbeat in front of you.

“I thought it was you “

“ yeah sure after you gave me a makeover to look like her i’m sure you did tanaka “

“ so fucking ungrateful “

“ oh now i’m ungrateful “

“ yeah you are “ his voice got louder as he pointed between you and him “ I made you into the woman I love — the perfect woman you should be on your knees thanking me right now “

“ aw should I “ you sighed “ god what’s wrong with me “

“ exactly now give me my stuff back i’m going to bed this is fucking with my head ’m drunk and I wanna bask in it for a minute — maybe forget you just tried to kick me out so I don’t get on your ass in the morning “

“ yeah of course babe you need your rest “ you nodded as he walked towards your door to pick up where you’d thrown his clothes only for you run and jump on his back arms wrapping around his neck your legs wrapping around his torso “ i’m gonna kill you— you asshole “

“ what the fuck “

“ then i’m gonna lock your body in my fucking freezer or even have daichi fake an arrest you prick— you’ve made my life a living hell — and now you wanna sleep— in my house “

You weren’t sure how he ended up leaving all you knew is that your heart seriously broke when you finally locked the door and rested your forehead against it. Tears spilling from your eyes for the first time that night. You’d gone crazy you had to have because just a few hours ago you almost choked the male to death after jumping on his back like a pro wrestler you were really going crazy

Your body relaxed as you felt a warmth make it’s way over to you only for it to tense when a familiar hand caressed your back and tried to lift your upper body up and away from the floor you’d fell onto sometime that night “ come on y/n —at least let me help you to the couch “ a sigh made it’s way through the house “ I promise you can wallow in your shitty tear soaked shirt after I make sure your comfortable and not hurting “

a cough quickly followed “ physically that is — this shits gotta hurt emotionally “

Your words coming out in a slurred whine like a child “ but it’s dirty — it needs to be cleaned “

“ would I tell you to go sit down if it wasn’t “ he spit back as he finally got you to fall into his chest after leading you over to the couch turning off the hallway light and leaving the lamp next to the couch on.

Him sighing out and shifting uncomfortably as you cried into his shirt causing him to need to distract himself from the crying woman in his arms. How the hell did he end up the nice one in this situation

Why did he push everyone out the house? He could’ve left hell he could’ve copied nishinoya and stolen the leftover four liquor bottles you had laid out on the table before everything happened

he wasn’t a comforting person so why would he shoo everyone else that could’ve helped you away?

he scoffed as he tried to fiddle with his sleeves only to take off his glasses and clean them over and over again

“ how many times are you gonna clean them “ you sniffled into his chest

“ until you finish acting like a baby — I feel like I have a kid ? Like i’m a parent I mean what do parents do” his hand softly came down on your head to pet your hair softly unsure why to do in this situation “ I uh— do you want warm milk ? chocolate or strawberry or is it my baby’s bedtime ? “

“ shut up tsuki “ he laughed as he felt you snuggle up closer to him “ so why are you — of all people —the only one that stayed everyone else must think i’m crazy or something “

“ eh I mean they already thought you were we were making bets before we walked in here on what you’d changed this time to look like kiyoko “

you slapping his arm softly before laughing “ god do I really look like her “

His once stoic face grew sad as his eyes ran over your facial features his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down on you “ yeah — yeah you really do — that crazy asshole “ he shook his head hand reaching out to touch your hair again feeling how burned it was from constantly flat ironing it and curling it like tanaka wanted “ god what did he do to you “

“ build a y/n “ you laughed as he stood up his own words following quickly after yours “ come on “

“ what “ you said as you stared at his open outstretched hand “ what’s going on “

“ let’s go “ you shook your head no “ look do you wanna change back or no “

You swallowed the lump in your throat before nodding slowly and taking his hand to travel with him to the bathroom. Him speaking to you softly only loud enough for you to try and figure out some of the words you couldn’t.

“ for some reason I miss old y/n — and I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing em’ again preferably across the table from me in a booth at 2:30 saturday with strawberry cake in front us? “

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

Text

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 18

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

There are just too many things going on right now with a heavier workload and more responsibilities. But maybe now is the best time to address the emotions that seem to be running too high.

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning(s): Mentions of glass injury, censored curse word by angry Yoongi, reader goes drinking so alcohol mention.

With the birth of your new niece, you had been even more busy, if that was even possible. Unfortunately, Jisung wasn’t able to stay over anymore because you were worried about him knowing what the boys did as their ‘jobs’.

“Koo, I know it hurts but you have to stop moving.” You scolded as you used your tweezers to remove the shards of glass from his knuckles. Jungkook whined as he winces in pain. You had to make sure you removed every little piece of he might get an infection.

“I told you to stop being reckless.” You sighed, placing the pieces of glass onto the cotton pad.

“I was careful...”

“You punched through a car window. I don’t know how careful that was.” You rolled your eyes. When you were sure all the glass pieces were out, you moved the magnifier lamp away and threw the glass away.

“I wasn’t going to let him get away. So I punched through the window and pulled him out.”

“Okay, you already know what is next. So take a deep breath.” You warned, getting the antiseptic spray ready.

“Can we skip that?” He whined.

“Can you not get so badly injured?” You retorted, making him pout. You shook the bottle and he took a deep breath, biting his bottom lip and scrunching his face to brace.

“Okay, we’re done.” You cooed. Jungkook let out tiny whimpers like an injured puppy, his eyes glossing over. You patted his head, gently dabbing his wounds with a cotton. Once that was done, you wrapped his knuckles up, fastening them in place with some medical clips. Jungkook watched as you cleared up the messy area, disinfecting the table after.

“How’s your niece?”

“She’s doing good, both her and her mother are getting all the rest and care that they need. Her name is Yuri.” You said, scrolling on your phone to show Jungkook a picture.

“She’s cute. She has the same eyes as Jisung.” Jungkook smiled. You laughed, nodding in agreement.

“So... did you find someone to accompany you to the ball yet?” He asked, finger drawing imaginary shapes on your desk.

“If you couldn’t tell, I’ve been rather busy the past few days. And unfortunately, finding a date for the ball is at the end of my priority list now.” You scoffed, typing on your computer. Jungkook just hummed.

“Well, I was wondering if-”

BANG!

You turned your head to see Yoongi standing at your door. His shoulders rise and fell with each pant. A deep frown was on his face and even if it was anger, it was very rare to see Yoongi display such strong emotion. You weren’t scared but worried and curious.

“Out.” Was all he said to Jungkook. Jungkook didn’t even bother arguing like he usually did, standing up and making a beeline for the door.

“What’s wrong?” You stood up. Yoongi seemed to hesitate for a while, it was obvious he was having an internal debate with himself. He untucked a manila folder from under his arm.

“Yoong-”

“Just read it.” He cut you off, sliding the folder across your desk to you. You gave him a look before undoing the string, looking at the contents.

“What does all that mean?” He asked impatiently.

“Yoongi, this-”

“Just tell me.” He pressed.

“It’s cancer. That’s all I can tell you now.” You sighed, putting the summary report down. Yoongi seemed shock, walking back into the chair opposite yours. It was silent as you continued looking at the other reports and Yoongi let reality sink in. He stared ahead blankly but you knew Yoongi well enough that he didn’t want to be comforted right now.

“What else?” He asked.

“Yoongi, you can shout at me all you want. But I am not telling you anything else until you tell me who this report belongs to.” You said firmly. Yoongi glared at you but you weren’t backing down.

“Half brother.” He mumbled. Considering Yoongi has never even mentioned any siblings before, you believe this half brother was estranged.

“He won’t let me near him after what my dad did to his mother. Getting a copy of these reports was the only way to know what was really going on.” Yoongi explained briefly.

“It’s non-small cell lung cancer, stage 3.”

“What does that mean? Can he be cured? Whatever needs to be done, I’ll do it.” Yoongi said firmly.

“At this point, it still seems regional, which means it is only affecting the tissues in the surrounding area. It hasn’t widespread yet. Surgery can be performed to remove the affected tissue followed by chemo or laser therapy to kill off any other affected cells.” You informed.

“Can you do it?” This was Yoongi practically begging at this point.

“Can I do it? Yes, I can. Will I do it? No, I won’t.” You said, placing all the medical documents back into a stack, putting it back into the original envelope that it came in.

“WHY THE F*CK NOT?!” Yoongi stood up with so much force, his chair fell back, crashing onto the ground.

“If you read the report, you would know that your brother’s cancer has only gotten to this stage because he refuses treatment of any kind. He refuses to take even one pill from his doctor. You force him to do such a big surgery he doesn’t want, any plans you had of making up for your broken sibling relationship will be gone.” You frowned.

“Hyung...” The others appeared at the door. They had rushed over when they heard the crash.

“When Min Geumjae comes to me on his own will and tells me he wants the surgery, I’ll do it. But until then, I refuse to even look at his file.” You pushed the manila envelope back to him.

“Hyung.” Namjoon brought Yoongi out to cool down. You let out a sigh, shivering slightly as you turned your chair around, back facing the boys.

“This is the last thing I need.” You rubbed your temples.

“Hey, you alright?” Hoseok’s soft voice appeared on your side. You opened your eyes to meet his worried ones.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You replied a little colder than you intended to, turning back to your computer. The boys cast each other uneasy looks before everyone was ushered out by Jin. Only Jimin remained behind.

“Say, what are you doing tonight?” He asked, leaning against your desk.

“Chim, I really don’t have the time for this. If you aren’t injured or need medical help, please go somewhere else. I have work to do.” You said, typing away the report that was on your screen. Even your big computer monitor looked like a mess with multiple windows everywhere.

“Come out with me. Tonight.”

“Chim, I-”

“I’ll meet you at the foyer. 9pm.” He smiled sweetly before getting off your desk and walked out. You stared at your closed door before shaking your head and turning back to your work.

It was close to 9 when you came down from your room. You didn’t know how to dress but if you were going out with Jimin, you knew you had to meet standards.

“Where is he?” You checked the time on your phone.

“Uh, going out...?” Namjoon saw you and immediately grew curious. You were in a short, black bodycon dress with a slit on your left thigh.

“Yeah.” You nodded. Some others passed by and also couldn’t help but stare at you all dressed up. They loitered around, wanting to see if they could catch a glimpse of someone picking you up.

“I’m here! Sorry for being late but we can do now.” Jimin came rushing down, adjusting his suit jacket. He was in a more casual suit than the usual business ones the boys wore, the red jacket and pants complimenting to loose, black undershirt nicely. The others that were there in the foyer were speechless with their eyes wide. Jimin was taking you out?!

“Let’s go.” Your words confirmed their suspicion.

“You look nice.” Jimin complimented. You let out a hum, bending slightly to wear your shoes.

“The driver is outside.” He held his arm out for you to take as you headed out the door. You failed the hear the scrambling of footsteps from the others, rushing to the window to see Jimin opening the door for you.

“What?!” Taehyung screeched.

“That hyung is good.” Jungkook shook his head.

The car stopped in front of a building. The neon sign flashed ‘Filter’. You remember this as one of Jimin’s businesses.

“Come.” The driver opened the door for the both of you. People who were either waiting to get in or entering stopped to stare at the both of you. The girls squealed at Jimin’s good looks but the boy only focused on you. He placed a hand on your waist.

“Good evening, boss.” The bouncers bowed.

“That’s the boss?”

“He’s so good looking!” The people were whispering. When the bouncers opened the velvet rope, Jimin led you in. The staff must have known that Jimin was here because some guys immediately came to you to serve you.

“I’ve got it, guys. Thanks. But she’s mine.” Jimin waved his boys away. You couldn’t help but heat up at his words.

“Yes, boss. Have a nice evening.” They wished the both of you and bowed before leaving the both of you. You felt rather lost in this whole situation, you’ve never seen this side of Jimin before.

“You look like a lost lamb.” Jimin chuckled. He continued to guide you to the elevated VIP platform. Your booth overlooked the other club goers.

“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house. You can just sit back and relax.” Jimin asked as you sat down.

“Well, if you say so, Mr Park. Then I’ll start with a red sangria, please.” You ordered with a chuckle. Jimin laughed along as he nodded and sat down beside you on the plush couch, pressing a button on the armrest. In a few seconds, a tall male in a suit came in. His name tag flashed ‘manager’. He bowed deeply to the both of you.

“A red sangria for her and a beer for me to start.” Jimin ordered.

“Yes, sir.” He bowed and left.

“You know, I’m perfectly fine being with the normal people downstairs. I don’t need a VIP booth or any special treatment.” You said.

“Nonsense. (y/n), don’t you realise? You’ll be granted entrance and a VIP booth to anywhere that you go. It doesn’t matter whether me or the other boys are there.” He raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“That.” Jimin pointed. You followed his finger to your bracelet on your wrist. The very one that Namjoon gave you when you joined.

“That bracelet is a symbol that you’re part of the family.” He said briefly. You looked at the bracelet. Even if it was dark, the pink diamond charm was shining brightly next to the wing charm.

“Don’t take it off.”

You remember Taehyung’s words when he first put the bracelet around your wrist. The manager coming back in with your drinks broke your train of thought. Jimin handed you your drink and you clinked glasses together before taking a sip. You let out a relaxed sigh.

“It’s good.” You smiled, swirling the drink in your glass.

“I’m glad. Have as much as you like.” Jimin grinned as he sipped his own beer. He was just happy you were smiling again.

“Jimin... You probably think I’m cruel, huh? For not helping Yoongi.” You guessed that Jimin knew the situation with Yoongi since he was one of the ones that was the closest to the elder.

“Why would you think that?”

“Do you know why I refuse to do the surgery?” You asked as you stared at the drink in your hand. Jimin shook his head.

“Because, I’ve seen it all before. Families, relationships, torn apart... Because some people think what they’re doing is the best for the patient. But have they really asked the patient what they want? My parents were all for it. Doing big surgeries brought a lot of good image and reputation but I didn’t want to be part of that.” You confessed.

“(y/n)...”

“That’s why I can’t do it. I’ve seen people bribe patients to do surgeries with such high risk just to give the press something to write about.” You said.

“I know Yoongi only has good intentions. He only wants his brother to live. But at what cost? If his brother doesn’t want it, who are we to make that decision for him? We can’t just make him do it.”

“I never realised...” Jimin said.

“It’s just the way the world is. Why do you think I live through my parents’ snide remarks instead of giving in to work for them?” You chuckled bitterly.

“A son of an old patient contacted me that day. His mother needs a heart valve replacement, which can be a rather risky surgery considering her age and it’s open heart surgery.” You started.

“Is she going to do it?”

“She didn’t... That’s why her son wanted me to convince her. I told him I would look at the medical reports before speaking to her. In the end, I declined. Yes, cruelly, I’m letting someone die. But why am I trying so hard to convince someone to do something they don’t want to do?” You looked at him.

“Of course, I know when people have a chance of living and yet, they refuse, it’s a shame. But I willingly live with that guilt and regret.” You threw your head back. Jimin wrapped an arm around you.

“I hate seeing you upset.” He comforted. You closed your eyes, putting an arm around him.

“Hehehe.” You giggled as Jimin carried you into the house. Maybe you had a bit too much to drink but you were very insistent that you were not drunk. The other boys came down.

“Oh my... How did she get so drunk?” Jin’s eyes widened when he saw you. None of them have ever seen you in that state before. Seeing the other boys standing there, you blinked at them before grinning and waving at them. Namjoon was the first to take you from Jimin. He gave you an amused smile and you poked his dimple.

“Cute.” You commented.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Namjoon said softly.

“But I’m not sleepy...” You mumbled, cuddling against his chest. Jungkook patted your head.

“Hyung, can we talk?” Jimin asked Yoongi. Yoongi nodded his head wordlessly, walking with the shorter male out to the garden. Namjoon looked at the two before bringing you upstairs.

“Who are you?” You tilted your head.

“Namjoon, doc. Did you forget me already?” He chuckled.

“Doc... I’m a doctor?” Your eyes widened as you pointed at yourself. Namjoon hummed in reply with a nod, kicking your room door open. He placed you to sit on your bed.

“Woah... I’m a doctor. That’s cool. And what about you, Mr Namjoon? Are you a doctor too?” You asked.

“No, I’m not a doctor. Only you are a doctor.” He said, grabbing some makeup wipes and began to gently wipe the makeup off your face. You seemed so fascinated with the life you were learning about from Namjoon.

“You’re really nice, Mr Namjoon.” You giggled.

“Thank you. Now, doc, do you think you can change out of your dress and into these?” He asked, holding up a shirt and some shorts. You stared at the articles of clothing before nodding your head. Namjoon ushered you to your bathroom and closed the door, staying on the other side.

“I’m done.” You said. Thankfully, you were able to successfully change. Namjoon tucked you into bed.

“Goodnight, doc.” He wished.

“No, Mr Namjoon, don’t goooooo.” You whined, holding onto his wrist.

“Come on, doc. Be good, you have to sleep. We can hang out tomorrow.” He coaxed. You pouted with a frown, crossing your arms like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

“Well, then what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know... I want to stay with you.” You said sadly. Namjoon smiled endearingly, patting your head. He helped you out of bed and into his room.

“You can stay here with me.” He got under the covered. You snuggled close to him as he leaned against the headboard, reading his book. Even if you weren’t doing anything, you were content.

“Are you comfortable?” Namjoon asked. You nodded your head, yawning again. He reached over to pat your head.

“Mr Namjoon?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you have a girlfriend? Or someone that you like?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend... But there may be someone I fancy. Actually, doc-” When he heard no sound from you, he stopped. Looking down, Namjoon saw that you were fast asleep, tucked under his arm comfortably. Namjoon closed his book, putting it on the nightstand before turning off the lights.

“She probably thinks I’m just like her parents. Or all those other people she hates.” Yoongi sighed, leaning against the railing of the gazebo.

“She’s doesn’t, hyung. You know doc isn’t like that. She knows all you wanted to do was help your brother. None of us would know all this, she only told me tonight.” Jimin shrugged.

“All I did was add to her stress.”

“Hyung, stop. Doc always tells you about taking all the blame on yourself and how it’s a bad habit.” Jimin scolded, making Yoongi hang his head.

“Well, she said that she won’t do the surgery already. So I guess there’s really nothing else I can do except speak to my brother to try and get him to do the surgery... Or just watch him die.” Yoongi said bitterly. Jimin knew Yoongi was just at lost and as painful as it sounded, those were really his only options. He wrapped his hands around the older.

“No matter what his decision is, I’m sure he would appreciate your support. It’s never too late to mend a broken relationship.” Jimin comforted.

“That’s if he ever wants to see me again.”

“You’ll never know, hyung. Maybe a serious, sit down conversation is all you need.” Jimin pulled away with a chuckle. Yoongi forced a small smile, nodding his head in agreement.

“About doc, I’ll speak to her soon. Thanks for taking her out.” Yoongi patted Jimin’s shoulder.

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t do it as a favour for you. I did it because I hate seeing the woman I love upset.” Jimin said before turning around to talk back into the house.

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writingoneshots · 3 years

Note

Maybe an odd prompt, but how about: Law having a crush on a Skypeian reader and thinks their wings are cute (in a Bepo kinda way?). The wings get injured in a fight so he's doing first aid while trying not to fawn over the fluffy feathers. Maybe the wings are sensitive so reader is blushy?

Hey there :) ! Now this is something I have never read before. Interesting request.. I couldn't resist to write it.

- Law x Skypiean reader - 1,526 words - cutie pie, little Bepo moment, SFW

After finally defeating Doflamingo, Law was exhausted. He has waited for this moment for years and now the time has arrived. Law was free. All these years, he had to readjust his plans, find new allies and focus on not killing Luffy for getting him into way too many troubles. Now that he was finally free, there was one thing he longed for. Someone's presence. Yours. It has been almost 6 months since the last time he had seen you and it was under hard circumstances. Both of you have been captured on a deserted island and Law had helped you to escape and bring you back to your island in the sky. During that time, Law fell. In love. Harder than he could have ever imagined. Every time he needed someone, every time he felt empty or depressed, he needed you. To see you, feel you and hear you. But there has never been an option to visit you since beating Doflamingo was his number one priority. Now that he finally had some time to relax with his crew, he decided to turn back around and check on you. There was nothing and no one, who could stop him right now. Not even Bepo, who tried very hard to find out where Law wanted to go and why he wanted to leave on his own.

Bepo was always the curious and very nosy type of being, but whenever Law wouldn't give him a single detail, Bepo knew that something huge was bothering Law. "Please tell me!" "No." "Please, captain!" "I said no." "Please?", Bepo looked at him with his shiny big eyes and Law took a deep breath before he turned away. "No." Bepo broke down into tears, being as overly dramatic as always. "Please, captain! I won't tell anyone! I promise!" "Yeah, like you promised to not tell anyone about the incident last week in the kitchen.", Law sighed annoyed and went to his desk. "Come on, captain.. That was funny. I literally left you alone in the kitchen, while you were making your cereal and I come back 3 minutes later and you set the oven on fire." Bepo tried his best not to laugh again. "Bepo?" "Yes, captain?" "Shut up.", Law looked at him angrily now and wrote something down into his secret black book. Bepo sighed a bit sad and sat down on the couch. His ears leaned down softly and Law had to look up at them. He always felt bad seeing Bepo like this and after a long and deep sigh, Law gave in. "I am going to visit (Y/N).", Law explained grumpily and stood up. "Awwwwww! You trust me, captain!", Bepo's eyes sparkled again and he began clapping his paws in excitement. "Law and (Y/N) - (Y/N) and Law! Law and (Y/N) - (Y/N) and La-" Law didn't want to hear the end of the song, which is why he left as fast as he could. Two days later, Law finally arrived in Skypiea. The rest of the crew spend their free time on an island nearby, while Law was in the sky looking for you. When he arrived at the city, where you would usually work, he felt his heart ache at the sight of the ruins, which were left after a big war. No house was fully standing and barely anyone was on the streets. What was once a lively city, seemed to look like a ghost town now. A few people were looking around, trying to find someone or something. His thoughts were all over the place, scared and shocked about the current situation. "Law? Trafalgar Law?", someone behind him asked. Law turned around and looked at a familiar face. "Hello. You are (Y/N)'s friend, right?" A woman with dark green locks nodded and smiled a bit sad. In this town, every human being had wings on their backs and specific strength, which were non-comparable to those human beings from Law's surface. "You're probably looking for her. She is in the medical building.", the woman explained and pointed into a direction. "It's in the city to the left. We are all recovering there." "What happened here?", Law didn't move away as he tried to understand what could have happened here without the news reporting anything. "Enel, one of the Gods, came back and he was angrier now than before. He expected us to support him for some reason and nobody wanted to join him to look for someone wearing a straw hat.. So he paid us back." It was hard for her to speak but she forced herself to do so and Law appreciated her effort. "Thank you.", was all Law could have said and after respectfully excusing himself with a soft nod, Law went to the city nearby. The medical building was filled with your kind and the doctors had a lot of patients to take care of. It seemed as if it had happened recently, which made Law feel a little guilty. If I would have been here, she wouldn't be laying in this building. "Hey! She needs help as well! Look at her leg and her wing, doc!!", someone screamed from a room right in front of Law. With every step into the direction of your room, Law was able to see more of you. Your body looked very exhausted from a hard fight and you still had dust and blood all over your body. Seeing you like this made Laws heart feel suddenly really heavy in his chest and he was not prepared for this. He could have never imagined seeing you like that. "Law?", you whispered his name and frowned a bit after spotting his initial hat lurking in the entrance. You felt relieved to see him but you couldn't understand why he was here. "(Y/N)! I heard what happened just now.", Law pushed a doctor aside, who tried to

walk past your bed and was furious about how they have left you laying there like this. The blood was already dry on your clothes and stuck to your skin, which could only mean that you've been here since more than a day. "Are you a doctor?", the guy, who was asking for help earlier, looked at Law with concerned eyes. Law just gave him a short look and nodded. He immediately grabbed some supplies and began cleaning and taking care of your wounds. "How long have you been here?" "Two days.", you sighed a bit and couldn't stop looking at him, still not believing that he was there. "Two days.. and your wounds were still untreated.", Law took a deep breath and promised himself to lecture a few doctors afterward. But you were more important now. "Thank you, Law.", you gave him a soft smile, when he looked up to you. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks but he just looked away again, not saying a word. When he made a gesture to tend to your wings, you put your hand onto his and shook your head. "That's not necessary. I am alright." "I have to clean the wound, (Y/N). You can trust me. I won't hurt you.", he reassured you and you had no idea how to respond to that. Now that he helped you to sit up, so he could have a better look at it, Law began to wash away the blood carefully. Your heart began to beat really fast and you pressed your lips together to avoid making him hear how intense this felt. Every touch, as soft as he tried to make it feel, tickled your nerves in a way you've never felt before. Law felt that something was off and he feared that the side of the wing might have been damaged. "(Y/N) does it hurt that bad?", he walked around the bed to have a better look at you and frowned when he saw your red cheeks. "N-no.. it doesn't.. hurt.", you looked down at your hands, feeling way too flustered. The man, who was watching you two, slapped Laws arm slightly. "You pervert!! Touching her like that in public! I don't believe that you're a real doctor!" Law looked at him confused and shook his head, not understanding what was going on. When he turned back to you again, seeing how even your ears turned red and how your breath has fastened a little, he finally understood. "Oh.. (Y/N), I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I just wanted to help.", he swallowed hard, his chest burning from the struggle of trying to help you but not knowing your species well enough. "Don't worry, Law. I trust you. Just.. maybe.. you should leave the wings out.", you whispered a little embarrassed. Law thought about it and stepped closer to you, pulling your chin up carefully with his thumb and index finger. "Or I could clean them in a private room..", he smiled a bit cheeky and motioned his room ability with his other hand. You looked into his eyes, seeing some sort of interest and excitement awaken in them. "Shambles!"

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

Text

calculated ii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You pride yourself in being cool, calm, and collected... and then Jeon Jungkook knocks you down a peg. Well, you’re still the head Calculus I TA. The noona. The responsible one. The one who would definitely not misunderstand a situation and then end up fucking in a stairwell... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, nipple play, tit slapping, fingering, wall fucking, dirty talk); jealousy; fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin again, lol

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

You weren't a jealous person by nature.

Mostly because you had no tolerance for lying, dishonesty, or deceit. In the off chance an ex cheated on you, you dropped them like hot coal and moved on, easily, without so much as a text. Was that the best way to end a relationship? Definitely not, but you did it anyway.

It got you a notorious reputation, to say the least.

So, why, as you're collecting the latest Calculus I exam and students are rushing down the steps to run to their next class, were you absolutely fuming as you spy Jeon Jungkook, tongue between his teeth, talking to a girl who looked like she was going to pass out from arousal by being in his vicinity? Why was your blood boiling, knuckles turning white as you clutch the obscenely thick stack of paper, your only thought being, I'm going to fail this fucking punk ass bitch, just you fucking wait–

"Do you need help?"

You turned your head sharply, missing Jungkook's teasing gaze as Kim Namjoon held his hands out, giving you a sheepish smile. Namjoon was the head Calculus III TA, but he was helping out today since the other Calculus I TAs couldn't make it.

"No."

Namjoon's smile faltered.

"Last time I let you carry these, you dropped them all."

Namjoon laughed sheepishly. "Ahahaha, yeah that did happen, huh?"

You felt bad for snapping at him. It wasn't Namjoon's fault Jungkook was an asshole. It was not Namjoon's fault Jungkook was looking like a goddamn meal in his untucked black dress shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy black boots, his long dark hair half-pinned back with a wispy curtain of black partly obscuring the right side of his face. Not that you cared. At all. You two fucked one time. One, very hot, very intense, very wild time during Calculus I office hours in this very math department building, a few floors above, just last week.

Did you have dreams about it?

...

You shook your head roughly, breaking out of your thoughts. "Come on. Let's go get some coffee. I'll buy," you said, softening your tone this time, grabbing your bag as you hoisted the stack with one arm. You began to walk out, Namjoon following you with his extra-thick backpack.

"I can help you grade. I have some time before my next class."

You laughed. "You, Kim Namjoon, double Literature and Music major and head TA for Calculus III and Physics II, have time?" you teased, seeing his ears turn red.

He chuckled awkwardly as you two made your way to the vending machines. "Okay, I don't have the most time, maybe an hour, but there's a key, right? I'd like to help," he added cheerfully. "Since you're carrying it all."

You smiled and stopped in front of the vending machine, struggling to grab your wallet from the back pocket of your black skinny jeans. Your hands kept getting caught in the long sleeves of your cream sweater. You frowned, trying to balance everything.

"Need help?" Namjoon asked, seeing your brows furrow. He reached for the stack of exams, but you pulled them away from his grasp.

"No, no, I just can't get my wallet. It's in my back pocket."

"... Uh, I could pa–"

"Namjoon, it's an ass. Just take it out. I won't call the police."

He gave you a hesitant look, but you jerked your head impatiently.

"Fucking do it. You're making it weirder," you muttered.

He shrugged and yanked your black bifold wallet out of your back pocket.

"Whatchu want?" You looked into the lit-up shelves, scanning. "Get me a green tea."

Namjoon opened your wallet to grab some bills. He raised his eyebrows.

"I use the same brand myself."

"What?"

You turned your head to see him snickering, pointing to the condom in your wallet. You rolled your eyes at his immature reaction.

"People get laid; get over it," you remarked coolly, but you were smiling anyway because Namjoon had cute dimples that made you laugh too.

He fed some money into the machine. "You should change it out every once in a while, though. Body heat can cause the latex to break down over time."

"I put it in there last week," you said absentmindedly, watching the green tea and the hot coffee Namjoon ordered plunk down. He raised his eyebrows again, but you gave him a pointed look and turned around, presenting your jean-covered butt.

"Put it back."

"What if I need a condom? Can I have it?" Namjoon sniggered.

"Put it back before I kick your ass," you shot back, turning your head to glare at him. A blur of black rushed past in your peripheral vision. Your eyes flickered to the direction of the movement at the same time Namjoon jammed your wallet in your pocket.

You turned back around, cocking your head into the direction of the offices. Namjoon carried the drinks, laughing behind you.

"That would have been weird if anyone was around," he remarked to the deserted hallway.

You shrugged. "Who hangs around the math department besides nerds like you and me?" you muttered, somewhat bitterly.

"Touché."

"You said you needed a ride," you muttered, watching Park Jimin stretch his legs out. It was already completely dark outside. Jimin always practiced such long hours that you often wondered if he slept. Did he even know what sleep was? The fine arts building was empty besides you two.

"I do!" Jimin protested, going into a split that made your own crotch hurt, at least mentally. "But I have to cool down first. It's important!"

You sighed and slid down to the floor as Jimin did his routine. He hummed along as you stared at the bright lights on the ceiling. Your backpack was in the car. You played with the pink bunny keychain on your keys as you waited.

"How did Jungkook go?" Jimin teased, tone playful.

You scowled in response.

"Ouch, that bad huh?" Jimin's head popped into your vision as he bent over backwards. "Does he have a bent dick or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "He's fine," you mumbled. "Just an asshole."

Jimin sat down, placing the soles of his feet together and pressing on his knees. They went all the way to the floor. You winced as you watched, but he seemed fine.

"What'd he do?"

You twisted your mouth to one side. "Doesn't matter. Don't care."

Jimin looked up. He gave you that look mothers give their children when they know they're lying. You relented, grumbling.

"Flirting around right in front of my face."

Jimin blinked at you. "I thought you guys were just fucking?"

You looked away to the mirror of the dance studio. "... We are just fucking. Did, rather."

"Are you jealous?" Jimin gasped in disbelief, scooting over to you gleefully, forgetting about his cool down. "You are!"

"I am not, Jimin. Shut up."

Jimin giggled. "Wow, one fuck and you're in lo–"

You spun around sharply and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him. Jimin's eyes widened at your sudden reaction, blinking at you. You climbed to your knees, towering over him.

"Shut up, Jimin."

"The fuck is going on?"

The clear, silvery voice thundered across the dance studio practice room. You froze, whipping your head around to see Jungkook, in all-black, his pretty features twisted in rage, glaring at you and Jimin on the hardwood floor.

Fight?

Or flight?

You scrambled to your feet and ran. Straight up bolted, right past Jungkook, not hearing him shout at Jimin, completely forgetting you were supposed to take him home.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook roared, advancing, shoulders shaking.

"Nothing," Jimin snapped, getting to his feet. "Just like you, apparently. Look how fucking fast she ran from you!"

Jungkook grabbed Jimin's collar, shaking him forcefully. "The fuck are you talking about?" he growled, nearly spitting in Jimin's face. "She doesn't even like me, you idiot."

"You're the idiot," Jimin spat back, shoving him hard in the chest. "She literally just admitted to liking you right in front of me!"

Jungkook froze. "W-what?"

"She just now told me she was jealous because you were chatting up other girls," Jimin hissed, looking at him disdainfully. "I would have never helped you if you were going to treat her like a piece of meat."

Jungkook's face fell, anger crumbling into sudden comprehension. "I-I didn't..."

He turned away from Jimin, dropping his car keys as he chased after you, steps much faster and lighter than your erratic stumbling though the fine arts building, nearly tripping on the stairs. You were running so fast that you were making yourself winded, chest so tight you couldn't even breathe.

Jimin sighed and picked up the fallen car keys.

Jungkook jumped over the stair rail, making you recoil and spin around, running back up the stairs. He took them two at a time, slamming a hand against the wall to cut you off. You turned the other way and he stopped you there too, so you ducked under, trying to run. His strong arms grabbed you by the waist and dragged you back, struggling for dear life, hands clawing at the air.

"Stop, stop," Jungkook was panting, but you started squirming against him instead, flattening your torso to try to slide out. He forcefully grabbed your shoulders and shoved you into the wall. You hissed in pain, seeing stars from your lack of oxygen and panic. He held you there, wheezing, grip so strong it almost hurt, as if he was afraid you would run away again.

You felt wetness on your face. You started, touching your cheek. Tears blurred your vision. Jungkook lifted his head, his long black hair tousled and wild from chasing you and, even now, he was handsome. Even now, he made your heart stop.

And then you realized that he, too, was crying.

"J-Jimin..." Jungkook gasped. "Asked me to d-drive him home..."

You sobbed, trying to blink your tears away. "M-me too..."

Jungkook chuckled wetly despite the situation.

"Hah... that bastard..."

You tried to twist away, but Jungkook pushed you into the wall with his chest.

"D-don't..."

And now you were really crying now, so pathetic, so dumb, so stupid you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, hide your face and your feelings and pretend they didn't exist.

"Don't..."

Jungkook's deep voice vibrated your torso as you furiously wiped your face with the sleeves of your cream sweater, stuffing your eyes with the fluffy material, trying to press them away.

"Don't cry, noona... I can't take it..."

And then he was kissing you, soft kisses on your tears, dripping his own onto your cheeks, and then your lips were on his, so full, so nice, so right, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Everything way too fucking wet, but it didn't matter because his tongue was against yours and you were sucking on it, shivering, whimpering his name, trying not to be pitiful, but what were you supposed to do when he made you feel this way, like you wanted to die in his arms right now?

He whispered your name too, so softly, so desperately that you thought it was just a dream, but he had you against the wall, hands sliding up your sweater, onto your skin, so warm, stroking it and pressing his fingers into your waist, so familiar, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

"J-Jungkook..." you choked out. "We're in the middle of the stairway in the fucking f-fine arts building..."

"Don't care," he murmured, unhooking your bra, his dark hair brushing against your face. You gasped as his palms covered your already hard nipples, his moan against your lips. "Have to remind you you're mine."

He kissed your face again, massaging your breasts, resting his cheek against yours, letting you feel his smile. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing.

"Hah... I'm so ugly right now," you mumbled, cursing your weakness, frustrated that only a single meeting with Jeon Jungkook could turn you into this. You didn't believe in stars aligning or any of that romantic bullshit. But the instant Jeon Jungkook pressed his body against yours, you fucking knew. You absolutely knew there was no other body for you, no other body you wanted to dream about, no other person you wanted to touch, no one else you wanted but Jeon Jungkook to force you to your knees and make you look at him, pulling on your nipples, whines leaving your throat as he yanked on them, your own hands pushing your sweater and bra up so he could stare at your body and watch how he ruined you, turning your nipples pink with abuse.

Were you crazy? Probably.

Jungkook spread his legs, leaning down, dark hair half-obscuring his face, lips parting.

"So beautiful, noona..." he breathed, swallowing hard. "You're the only one for me."

You scoffed at his words, hastily wiping your eyes. He pulled at your nipples hard, twisting them and making you yelp in pain.

"Look at me when I speak to you," Jungkook commanded, raw and deep. Voice strained from crying, but his eyes remained dark, flint-like, shaded by his long hair. His eyes traveled down your body, to your knees against the floor, to your nipples straining in his fingertips, to your shaking hands holding up your sweater, to your face, your icy glare rippling through your drying tears. He drew in a long breath, making you wait for him.

"There is no one else," he growled firmly above you, staring into your eyes, right at your soul. "Absolutely no one. I don't care if they're ripping off their clothes and throwing themselves at me, I will always pick you over them. I will always want you over them. I will always, always desire you under me above all others."

You chuckled darkly, feeling his grip tighten.

"We fucked once, Jungkook. Once," you muttered bitterly. He pinched your nipples sharply and you sucked in a breath, wetness pooling in your panties.

"Once is enough," he replied firmly. "Once is enough to know there is no other human being on Earth for me."

Maybe you were both crazy.

He yanked your nipples harder this time. Your body jerked in pain, pressing your thighs together to get some relief.

"Get up."

You got up shakily, with his gentle pulls in your nipples, wincing. Jungkook removed his hands and you sighed in relief, only to be silenced as he pushed up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, breathless as you saw his shapely forearms, the right covered in tattoos. He pressed his right forearm against your collarbone and you released your sweater as he held it up.

"Hands on the arm."

You placed your hands on his forearm, one on his wrist and the other just under his elbow.

"Look at me."

Your eyes flickered up at him. Part of his hair covered his right eye. The rest of his forehead was exposed, brows furrowed, brown eyes intensely on you. His chiseled jaw clenched, lips so pink and pretty you wanted them on you. Your chest was completely exposed, your red nipples hard and poking out in the cold air.

Then he slapped your tits with his own palm.

You gasped sharply, skin stinging, nails digging into his skin. The sound rang in the empty staircase. Your knees shook, panties wetter than before.

"Who is he?"

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. Your nipples prickled with pain but all you could think about was wanting more. "Who?" you croaked.

He smacked you again, right on the other nipple, and you bit your tongue, head pushing into the wall behind you, hissing. Fuck. He wasn't hitting you very hard, but he had a huge palm, expanding the surface area of the sting.

"The guy who touched your ass without my permission," Jungkook snarled, flicking your nipple hard.

Your eyelids fluttered, knees buckling. Fuck. So good. You clutched into Jungkook's arm, panting. His arm was like iron, unmoving.

"Namjoon?" you replied, confused. "H-he was just getting my wallet."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Then he raised an eyebrow and his hand, slowly spanking your tits, making sure to hit your swollen, aching nipples each time, getting you wetter and wetter with each slap.

"He wants to fuck you," Jungkook hissed into your face.

You were moaning far too loud, rubbing your knees together, your soaked panties bunching up in your jeans as Jungkook continued, his nails gazing your flesh, leaving red marks and pink skin in his wake.

"B-but I don't want to fuck h-him..." you managed to get out in between your moans.

Jungkook pressed his palm flat against one of your breasts and rubbed hard. Your eyes rolled back in your head, nipple throbbing with pain as he forced it around and around.

"Really?" he sneered, putting his face close to yours as he released your breast and moved to the other, placing his nail on it, scratching lightly. Your hips bucked and a desperate whimper fell from your lips. "Who do you want to fuck then?"

Your eyes locked with his, his impossibly dark, reigning eyes.

"Only you."

He pinched your nipple, hard. You wailed, almost falling, but he held you firm.

"Say my name."

So deep. So in control.

"Only you, Jungkook."

He dropped his right arm and roughly pinched both your nipples, silencing your scream with a suffocating kiss, his clothed chest ramming into your torso. You groaned into his mouth as the rough fabric of his dress shirt touched your sensitive nipples, whimpering as he removed his hands to hold yours. Held them tight as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, thrusting into it, fucking it as if it was his cock. You took it all, fingers intertwining with his, whole body shivering.

He pulled your hands up to his chest, breaking apart for a second.

"Take it off," he panted impatiently. "Need your skin on mine."

You fumbled with the tiny buttons, far too small with how hazy your head was right now. You were rapidly losing your temper, finally just shoving your fingers into the placket and ripping it apart, causing the black buttons to fling everywhere. You pushed the sides of the dress shirt aside, sucking in a breath seeing his toned chest and abs, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you, pressing his hot skin against yours, moaning as your abused nipples touched his chest. Jungkook was chuckling, looking at the fallen buttons.

“Are you going to pick those up later?” he asked, amused.

“No,” you snapped.

“Someone will know.”

“You obviously don’t care.”

Jungkook laughed, rumbling and sexy and so very wonderful. “I most certainly do not.”

He let you press your cheek against his collarbones, hands splayed on his back. Tracing his muscles, chest heaving from too many emotions and too much running. You ran your nails down his back. His breathing hitched and he placed a large hand on your head.

“Were you jealous?” he purred, petting your hair. “Because I was talking to that girl after class? Is that why you ran off with that Namjoon guy? To make me jealous too?”

“No,” was your haughty, tight reply.

He hummed. “Really?”

His hand slid down, down your shoulder and to your bare skin. He dug his nails into the small of your back, raking them up. You whimpered, clinging to him tighter. His head dipped low against your ear, voice dropping several octaves.

“Because I was very, very jealous,” Jungkook growled, teeth snapping, every word rousing your lust. “All I could think about all day was how to punish you. My beautiful, slutty noona.”

You sunk your nails into his back, snarling right back.

“It’s your own fault for being so fucking hot that every single person who encounters you has a full-blown orgasm every time they see you, you punk ass bitch.”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “You didn’t. You told me to leave.”

“You didn’t know what was going on in my pants,” you shot back.

“I found out, didn’t I?”

Was it possible to want to choke someone while also wanting to be choked by them? Because that’s how you felt right now, listening to Jeon Jungkook’s stupid, sexy, smug voice in your ear.

“Shut up.”

You felt Jungkook’s body stiffen. Slowly, slowly, he backed up, out of your grasp, his hands leaving your back. You frowned, narrowing your eyes. There was a darkness in his, glaring down at you through his lashes. His lips were slightly parted, no longer smiling. You didn’t waver. His hand came up and took your chin, grip tightening into your cheeks until it was uncomfortable, tipping your head back into the wall. Lips hovering over yours, so close that he could kiss you, but he wasn’t doing it.

“Okay.”

The affirmation made your blood run cold with his unforgiving tone. He placed his lips on yours, but instead of kissing you, he breathed into your mouth, a hot, erotic stream right into the back of your throat, forcing yours back, making you inhale him. You moaned softly, but he retreated just as fast, hooking one arm around you, arching your back forcefully.

“J-Jungkook, what–”

Then he latched his lips onto one of your nipples, flicking it with his tongue, his hand around you rubbing the other as the other gripped the button of your jeans, popping it open. You cried out, hitting your head on the wall, bruising yourself as he yanked the zipper down, shoving his hand under your panties into your tight-jeans. Your nipples for far too sensitive to take more pain and yet Jungkook gave it to you, sucking and rubbing them simultaneously as he shoved one, two fingers into your slopping wet pussy, your moans echoing in the stairway as you stared up, head throbbing. Shocks of pain and pleasure traveled throughout your body, and still he shoved a third finger into you. Your body jerked, trying to spread your legs to accommodate him but your jeans were too tight and he was fucking you too hard, each thrust raising you to your tiptoes. He didn’t even have to stimulate your nipples anymore – they were just rubbing against his teeth and hand by the sheer force of him fingering you.

“A-ah, J-Jungkook, please…” you groaned, grinding into his hand, biting your lower lip hard to try and be a little quieter. “P-please, it’s t-too much...”

His eyes flickered up to you, glaring. You told me to shut up, they said.

“I’m s-sorry…” you panted out, gritting your teeth. “P-please…”

Jungkook detached his mouth, curling his lip. Hand leaving your nipple, tangling into your hair. “Are you really sorry, noona?” he drawled, yanking your head back and exposing your neck. “Are you?”

You whimpered, nodding tightly, his hand still in your hair, forcing you to tug on your own.

“Y-yes, Jungkook,” you breathed, feeling him release your hair. “I’m sorry…”

He smiled at you, an icy smile.

“That’s good.”

You felt him yank your pants down with his free hand, shoving them down to your knees. You almost tripped, but Jungkook grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into you so hard you were sure they would leave marks. He yanked you up, shoving a knee between yours and forcing your legs open. Your eyes went wide, his three fingers flexing inside you. His dark eyes boring into yours, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m still going to put another finger in you.”

He shoved a fourth into you, forcefully, and now nearly his entire hand was fucking you, pounding you into the wall. Your arms flew up to wrap around his shoulders, desperately holding on as he filled you, pushing his fingers against your walls. You gasped, clenching around his fingers, and Jungkook grinned, watching your face as he pushed you to the edge, feeling so stretched out, so embarrassingly wet that the sounds of your pussy were louder than your noises.

“Fuck, your pussy sounds so sexy,” Jungkook groaned. “Listen to that dirty pussy suck in my fingers, so fucking desperate for my cock.”

You shoved your head against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut, legs straining as you came, muscles spasming and the moan of his name racking through you, your throat already hoarse. He ripped his hand out of you and slapped your clit. Your knees buckled and you whined loudly as he gripped your ass with one wet and one dry hand, spreading it forcefully, pressing you against the wall.

“Take one leg out of your jeans,” Jungkook snarled.

You winced, pussy throbbing, giving him a what-the-fuck look.

“Do it.” He was not going to repeat himself.

You awkwardly kicked one of your sneakers off, untangling your right leg out of your pants. Now you were mostly naked in the fucking stairway with an almost shirtless Jungkook towering over you. Your poor sock fluttered to the floor, lost due to the tight ankle of your skinny jeans.

Jungkook grabbed your calf and pushed it up and out, effectively forcing you to stand on one leg.

“Jungkook, what–”

He hissed, staring at your glistening, puffy, red pussy lips, your hole opening and closing from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

Jungkook leaned you back into the wall, snaking his hand between your legs, moaning with you as he touched your swollen clit. Slow, languid, deliberate, rubbing your clit in circles, melting you, your eyelids fluttering closed at his sudden sweet movements.

“Wanna fuck you just like this,” Jungkook breathed, inhaling your scent. “Just like this, against the wall, in this fucking stairway, your leg around my waist.” He pressed harder, earning a wretched whimper. “Want someone to find us and see you bouncing on my cock, fucked out and screaming my name.”

Your legs trembled, trying to close, but he held them open, teasing you, drawing your next orgasm out of you, slow this time, building you into a frenzy.

“Just do it,” you gasped. “Just fucking do it.”

“I want to,” he hissed back, rubbing faster. “I didn’t bring a fucking condom.”

You chuckled despite yourself, hips shuddering into his hand. “Didn’t think you were going to fuck Jimin or something?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you and pinched your clit. Instantly you yelped, your standing knee buckling, but his own slammed against yours, locking it in place. You gasped at the pain, your pussy clenching around nothing as he furiously rubbed your clit. Your insides curled and you gulped for air, feeling the pain and pleasure rise into a crescendo.

“What if I stop, noona?” Jungkook barked sharply. “Since you’re being such a fucking brat.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to push back your own orgasm, relishing in his anger.

“I have a condom,” you panted, giving him an open-mouthed smirk. “Keep one in my wallet now, j-just for you, Jungkook.”

You saw something in his eyes change, something between an amused sparkle and an agonizing lust.

“Is that so?” Jungkook purred, bringing his face close to yours. His breath lit your skin on fire, the tense knot closing in on you fast as he rubbed you even faster, so fast that it felt like a vibrator on your aching clit. “So, you can always be prepared for me? So, I can take you wherever, whenever I want?”

You bit your lip, nodding, eyes glazing over as the first wave crashed on you.

“Fuck yeeeeees, Jungkook, whatever you fucking want,” you moaned, back arching, legs shuddering, letting him rub you as your hips jerked. Viscous liquid dripping down your thighs, pussy pulsating wetly, hands flat against the wall. He was going to be the death of you, making you agree to such crazy things in the middle of your fucking orgasm.

Jungkook let go of your leg. You leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, pretty sure all this was going to get you expelled. Even if there was no one in the building, someone down the street probably heard you by now with how loud this was becoming. You heard rustling under you, Jungkook going through your pockets on the floor to find your wallet, pulling out the condom.

“You’re actually insane,” you panted, blinking slowly as you watched Jungkook unzip his jeans, shoving them down. “I can’t even stand.”

Fuck, even just him pulling out his half-hard cock was already getting you wet again. Jungkook smirked at you, seeing your eyes on him. He stroked the length slowly, running his large hand over it. You frowned at him, tapping your hand against the wall in annoyance.

“I’m giving you a break,” he murmured, staring at your body as he gripped his cock, pumping once. He gasped, breathing your name.

“At least let me touch it,” you pouted, not even sure how you were still upright. Just pure lust, apparently.

Jungkook looked at you through his lashes, lips parting, tongue darting between them. He thrust his hips into his hand. You stiffened, seeing his wanton, arrogant expression. He wasn’t going to let you touch it. He was going to make you watch, frustrated, as he stroked himself to full hardness.

“Jungkook…”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, rolling his body into his hand, moaning softly.

“Jungkook, please…”

His tongue danced between his lips, moving his hand up and down slowly, rocking his hips into his cock, enjoying your pleading tone, your hands clenching into fists, your body heaving at the loss of him.

“Jungkook, come on,” you whined, spreading your legs, watching the angry red head disappear and reappear in the curve of his fingers. “I want you. Please.”

He took a step towards you, still stroking himself. “Yeah?” he breathed. Another step. And another. He still didn’t tell you that you could touch him yet, so you kept your hands at your sides, switching between his dark, lustful eyes and his rapidly hardening cock thrusting into his hand. “You want me, noona? You want to touch my cock?”

And now Jungkook was right next to you, still jacking himself off, the velvety, thick head rubbing against the smooth skin of your thigh. You moaned as you felt his pre-cum smearing onto your skin, adding to his lubrication.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, eyes glued to his cock rubbing against your fucking leg. Fuck, you wanted it in your mouth so bad. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your ear, his dark locks brushing against your cheek. His voice was a deep drawl, low and teasing, breath hot against your skin.

“Tell you what,” Jungkook purred. “I’ll let you put the condom on.” You whimpered, disappointed. “And then I’ll fuck you against this wall, nice and hard and fast, not stopping until I cum because of that delicious, sweet, tight pussy of yours.”

If you had any sanity left, it rapidly disappeared as you nodded hastily, wordlessly holding out your hands as Jungkook dropped the condom in your palm. He calmly removed his hand, his thick, fully hard cock erect as you slid the condom down, moaning as you felt the traces of his veins and muscle pulsing under your hands. Once you were done, Jungkook pushed your hands away, not giving you a chance to disobey him.

You pouted. “You’re a jerk.”

He grinned at you, lifting your leg and pinning it to your chest. “And you’re about to get fucked.”

In less than a second, Jungkook thrust his hips up and into you, tearing a gasp from your throat as he rapidly entered you, peeling apart your soaking, abused walls. You bit your tongue, grabbing his dress shirt as he rolled his hips into you again, groaning as he felt you clench around him.

“That’s it, noona,” he exhaled, slamming his hips into you. “You better fucking hold me tight. If I slip out, that’s all the fucking you’ll get from me.”

You whined, feeling him start a bruising pace, hands clamped onto your ass. Whether he was lying or not didn’t matter because you were squeezing your pussy for dear life, crying out as he thrust into you over and over, so full and overstimulated you didn’t know whether to focus on your aching, raw pussy or his cock periodically throbbing inside you, swelling against your walls.

You hooked your leg around his waist, changing the angle, instantly feeling him ram his cock into a deeper, more pleasurable spot. You tipped your head back, eyes rolling up into your head as your mouth opened, tongue sliding out. He pounded you relentlessly, your shoulder blades smacking the wall. Your swollen clit rubbed against the base of his cock repeatedly. Your body was going to ache all over tomorrow, but you still rose your hips to meet his, so drunk on the feeling of his cock stretching you out that nothing else mattered. You came suddenly, wailing Jungkook’s name, pussy spasming and squeezing him but he set his jaw and fucked you even harder, using every ounce of his energy to keep his own orgasm at bay.

“Who owns this body, noona?” he ground out. “Tell me, who owns this fucking body?”

You had to claw for your words, throat so strained your voice was thin. “Y-you do, Jungkook, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled. “If you cum, it’s for me and only me. No. One. Else.” He punctuated each word by slapping his hips into you, sliding you up into the wall so gravity crashed you back down onto his cock. You moaned, helpless, as he hissed, shoving his face into your tits to moan hotly into your chest as he came, violent, thick jerks of his cock shuddering into you. Quickly, he gripped your hips and pulled up, hissing as half of his cock slid out, cum leaking out of the bottom of the condom and splatting onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

You could barely register anything as he hoisted you onto his shoulder, cursing loudly. Jungkook leaned against the wall with one shoulder, panting, the other half-carrying you, arm wrapped around your waist. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the fact that your bare ass was in the air and your pants were hanging off one leg.

“Jungkook,” you croaked. “Let me down.”

He lowered you, still leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His hair covered almost his whole face, sweaty and glistening. He wiped some sweat off his chin with the back of his hand, flicking it away carelessly.

You pressed your back flat against the wall, using at as leverage to pull your pants back up, wincing at the now familiar cold feeling of your soaked panties meeting your abused pussy. You crouched to collect your sock and your shoe, wincing as pain radiated up your back.

Jungkook chuckled, watching you struggle with your sneaker. “Want help?”

You grunted, shoving it on. “Can we stop fucking in random ass places at school?”

“You said I could fuck you wherever I want, whenever I want,” he teased, giving you an open-mouthed smirk.

You readjusted your bra, putting it back on. You found the two bits of condom wrapping, shoving it in your pocket. “I did, but I want to see you fully naked for once, you punk.”

Jungkook laughed, rich and full. “I support this idea if you’re also fully naked.”

You made a face as you got up, trying to keep your steps steady so you didn’t seem like a drunk idiot. Or someone who just got railed by Jeon Jungkook.

“Give me the condom.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “I was going to drop it here. Mark my territory.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and took it from him as he extended his hand out. “Your buttons did that for you already,” you remarked, tying it up.

He smirked, zipping up his jeans. “You owe me a new shirt.”

“And you owe me new panties, again,” you shot back. “Where are my replacements?”

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to push it back. Fuck. Open shirt, half-exposed forehead, smug-as-fuck Jungkook got you wet just by looking at him.

“Guess we should go shopping sometime.”

He smiled slyly, patting his pockets. His expression abruptly changed to confusion. He pulled out his wallet and phone, frowning. “Where are my car keys?” He furrowed his brow, looking at his phone. You found your keys and wallet still with you, surprised that they didn’t fall out of your pants. You phone was in your backpack, still in your car. He swiped at his phone, reading his messages.

Jungkook groaned. “I dropped them and Jimin took my car. Bastard.”

Fuck, his fucking deliciously toned and tan chest was distracting you. “I still have my keys,” you muttered, staring at his abs. Suddenly you started, realizing he was advancing on you.

“Oh?” Jungkook purred, opening his shirt wider. The fabric tumbled off his right shoulder, exposing his tattoos. His long dark hair covered part of his right eye, brown orbs glimmering with mischief.

“Wanna take me home, noona?”

Welp.

part iii

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic

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hanatiny · 3 years

Text

[4:04] Heart Not Found

a/n // disclaimer: I’d like to make it clear that I neither condone nor endorse any of the behavior described in this fic. Each of the characters acknowledges that it is beyond unacceptable and unjustified; this is merely meant to be an experimental look at the psychological processes within a yandere’s mind. Furthermore, this work is purely fictional and I do not claim to personally know exactly how any of the ateez members behave.

a/n: If there’s anything potentially triggering that I have forgotten to list in the warnings, please let me know and I’ll fix my mistake asap!! thank you <3

pairing: yandere!San x genderneutral!reader x pianist!boyfriend!Hongjoong

genre: angst

word count: 2602

warnings: non-idol AU, murder, descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood and death, mentions of knives, San is highly obsessive in this, he threatens the reader but doesn’t actually hurt them, kidnapping, trespassing, swearing, I did my best to keep the violence as vague as possible

-----

It was around 3am and you had yet to return home, and to say San was unnerved about this fact would be a massive understatement.

It wasn’t unusual for you to get home when it was already dark outside but it was never after midnight, much less in the early morning hours it was approaching now.

San tapped his fingers against the glass of his window anxiously as he watched the streets below attentively. You had turned off your phone a while ago, or at least that was the conclusion he drew after he stopped getting a signal from the tracker he had secretly managed to install on your phone.

3:12... why weren't you home yet?

His jaw went tense when he finally caught sight of you a few excruciatingly long minutes later, and he absolutely fumed as he saw you holding hands with another man he had never seen before in his life- he paused.

He did recognize the man, as none other than the pianist Kim Hongjoong who had been gaining quite a bit of popularity in the recent months. Kim Hongjoong, who he had gone to high school with until the older dropped out to focus on his career instead.

San didn't care much for that though, because a pretty face and a talent like Hongjoong's didn't mean he could love and care for you like you deserved it.

San believed that only he could give you everything you needed and wanted, and everything beyond that. Which was exactly why he was seeing red, punching the wall next to himself angrily. It caused his knuckles to bleed from the force behind the action, but the rage he felt overshadowed his pain.

Why didn’t you realize you were destined to be his and his alone? That you shouldn’t go whoring yourself out to other men? That only he should be the one to hold you in his arms, the one to protect you from everyone and everything.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand why you couldn’t feel his attraction to you, why you insisted on turning a blind eye to him and found him “weird.” That’s what he assumed to be the case, at the very least.

San loved you, why was that so damn difficult for you to understand?

His narrowed eyes flickered over to the knife resting on his bedside table, and he had it clutched tightly in his bleeding hand within the blink of an eye.

He darted down the stairs without a second thought, blinded by the rage he felt deep within himself.

Meanwhile, outside, you were hugging your boyfriend goodbye for the night. His dark eyes shone innocently as he kissed your nose affectionately, causing you to giggle while still having your hands intertwined.

“So I’ll pick you up at 10 tomorrow for brunch, yeah?”

“Sounds good, Hongjoongie~ I’ll see you then.” You playfully blew him a kiss before he turned and walked off into the night, rounding the corner shortly after.

It was San’s time to strike, using your distracted state of mind to creep up behind you and tightly wrap an arm around your torso while he held the knife to your throat in warning.

You didn’t recognize his voice at first when he whispered into your ear, your brain much too clouded from the feeling of fear filling you, “If you make any sound at all, I’ll personally slit your throat and cut your vocal cords. You don’t want to lose an angelic voice such as yours, do you~?”

Realizing your situation was hopeless due to the unexpected amount of strength the man holding you possessed, you stopped trying to kick him and wrestle yourself free. This was the only answer he needed, starting to take slow and deliberate steps backwards from your house over to his. His hold on you remained tight, borderline suffocating even, just in case you would dare to get bold and try something.

He had left his door slightly ajar, kicking it shut behind him once he had finally brought you inside of his living space.

You still found yourself unable to figure out the identity of the man who had burst into your comfort zone out of nowhere but you didn’t want to find out what he was capable of doing to you if you attempted to resist whatever he was in the process of doing and pinpoint who he was, considering the amount of ease with which he snuck up and took hold of you just a few minutes ago.

Casually dropping his knife onto a nearby cupboard, he led you down the hallway of his house to a spacious bedroom. It was then a figurative lightbulb went off in your head and the fog clouding your mind cleared, upon seeing certain pieces of furniture he had placed in the room.

You had been here before. You had been in this house before when he had just moved in and his furniture was all over the place, he was the ‘cute neighbor’ who had offered you some coffee and invited you over to ‘get to know each other a little.’ Now all you needed to do was remember his name- it clicked. You remembered.

His grip on you (probably purposely) loosening, you whirled around and took a few steps away from him. San didn’t seem all too fazed by it though, simply grinning knowingly at you and crossing his arms while you did your best to subtly gain proper awareness of your surroundings.

It seemed like he noticed, however, because that was when he finally spoke up again.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to recognize me, love. You know who I am, don’t you~?” His tone was so calm that it unsettled you to the point of having to avert your eyes, your head hanging low as you nodded hesitantly, hardly even noticing his use of the pet name.

“I knew it...~” San’s voice trailed off into a purr that you weren’t sure how to feel about, deciding that being wary was likely the smartest thing you could do in your current situation.

Too lost in thought, you didn’t realize he had stepped closer to you while you were internally debating with yourself, pleased that you seemed to remember what he said about speaking.

“Now, I have something to take care of for a little bit... I trust that you’ll be good and not leave this room.” Although a smile was painted on his features, it didn’t make his tone sound any less threatening. Not willing to find out what might happen if you didn’t react, you nodded once more.

“That’s my good dove~” All of it disgusted you - from the way he cooed at you, over the way his lips twitched upwards into a grin, to the way he looked at you like you were the only person in this twisted world.

You hated it and yet there you stood, in the middle of this sicko’s bedroom, frozen with uncertaintly and fear. You only scarcely resisted the urge to punch him in the face, watching closely as he left a few moments later and closed the door behind himself.

You heard him lock it as well, heaving a shaky sigh when you believed him to be out of earshot.

Your body shook with rage, how did he have the audacity to just kidnap you like that and walk away like he didn’t commit a goddamn felony? Your first instinct was to break something, and you figured that the window might be the first best thing - just in case it’d give you an opportunity to escape.

Looking around, you were quick to find a small hammer in a drawer. You swung it against the glass with every bit of force you could muster, only for the object in your hand to bounce back without leaving even so much as a crack. Dumbfounded by the fact that San had even reinforced his windows to keep you from leaving him, clearly having planned this for a while, you dropped the hammer next to you and sank to your knees.

You curled in on yourself, sobs wracking your body as you were forced to come to terms with the reality that you were trapped. Trapped in this room, trapped with your not-so-innocent-and-sweet neighbor.

Meanwhile, San’s steps were hurried as he sought out your boyfriend’s house, knife in hand while he occasionally glanced at his phone. It probably wasn’t very smart of Hongjoong to have his personal address publicized for fan mail purposes, considering how easily it could be exploited by people like San.

He should’ve been freezing out in the cold air at 3:35 in the very early morning, but the blood practically boiling in his veins kept him from being affected by it much. It was almost too easy for him to trespass onto the desired property when he finally reached it, breaking the lock on the door effortlessly with the blade of his knife.

Hongjoong had a habit of staying up as late as it was humanly possible, and it was rather common knowledge that he sometimes didn’t even sleep at all. As such, San was not the least bit surprised to faintly hear someone playing the piano when he stepped into the house as quietly as he could.

He followed the sound, eventually coming to a large room filled with a variety of instruments of different sizes. In the middle was, as San had to begrudgingly admit, a beautiful piano. Its seat was occupied by his very target, Hongjoong, who was aware of the younger man’s presence and let his fingers press against the black and white keys once more.

The sound the action produced was so disharmonious that it made San physically cringe as he stared the young pianist down, the latter of whom finally lifting his head with a deep, exasperated sigh.

“This is about y/n, isn’t it? I’ve noticed the way you look at-”

“You saw nothing! You know nothing! Do you have any fucking clue how painful it is to see the one you love with someone else, to not even have them spare you a single glance because of how little they care about you?” San was furious at this point, blinded by his rage, Hongjoong flinching and recoiling in his seat at the harsh tone employed by the other male as he continued, “I know you don’t. You were always the prodigy and excelled at what you did, got everything you wanted so easily... including the one thing I wanted too. I can’t live with that, and neither will you.”

“I-I didn’t- That’s not-” Hongjoong stammered, trying to defend himself before quickly realizing it was a futile endeavor when he saw San lunging at him with his knife clutched tightly in his hand. His reflexes were fast as he tried to reach for a nearby violin to whack the latter unconscious with but the crazed younger was, to his demise, much faster and pinned him to the surface of his piano while the keys beneath him produced another dissonant sound.

It didn’t exactly help that San was not only taller but also more muscular than Hongjoong, so the latter’s tries to wiggle and struggle free were for nothing. He groaned in pain as the wooden edges of his instrument forcefully dug into his skin; he clawed at it, but to no avail. He had no chance against San.

Despite knowing how hopeless it was for himself, Hongjoong refused to go down without a fight and proceeded kick and scream in San’s hold, “You’re making a huge m-mistake-”

His vision spun before going black, his pleas going silent while his body went limb. Everything stopped, except for San. He continued to stab and mutilate the older until he deemed it enough and was satisfied, stepping backwards after. He got what he came here for. Taking a quick picture with his phone to show to both you and the police what had taken place (although he’d come up with an alibi for the authorities, of course), he backtracked his steps and left the house as fast as his feet would take him.

Still under the safe and dark blanket of the night, he made his way back to his own house. Making sure to hide the bloody knife where no one would find it, he cleaned himself off briefly before he got an idea for how he could use the ‘souvenir’ he brought for you.

You jumped slightly in your spot on San’s bedroom, curled up and hiding your face behind your knees even now, when you heard him slam the front door shut which signalled you that he had returned from whatever he was out doing. You feared the worst as you listened carefully, presuming the noise he was making to be coming from his kitchen.

You looked up when the bedroom door clicked open and San entered, a smug and satisfied grin on his face as he moved to set a jar on the bedside table before crouching in front of you.

“I’m home, bunny. Did you miss me~?” His falsely innocent, sweet tone was still something you despised, although you felt genuine fear for what he could do to you simply by looking at the tiny smudge of blood lingering on his cheek, so you nodded obediently.

“Good. I just had to have a little chat with your pretty boy, and look what he gave me~!” San cheerfully nudged his head towards the bedside table, and the sight you were met with made you feel sick to your stomach.

What you assumed to be Hongjoong’s bloody heart. In a jar. You kept glancing back and forth between him and the object, gaping at him in both shock and disbelief of what he had done.

“What do you think of it, love? Pretty, isn’t it~? Go on, tell me.” He encouraged you softly, "You told him he had your heart right? Now you have his forever!” He chirped, and your voice was shaky as you spoke.

“Y-you monster!” You exclaimed, cursing yourself internally for your stuttering as you cursed at him, “You heartless bastard, you didn’t have to kill him!”

“I didn’t want to kill him,” he admitted softly, looking down as if he felt any sense of remorse for any of his actions within the last hour or so, “but he left me no choice. He refused to break up with you. He refused to let me love you without... all this.” He gestured vaguely, pulling out his phone to show you the photo he took, “He refused to let me have even one thing I wanted for myself, even though he always got whatever he wished for. Desperate times require desperate measures, I had no choice...”

San trailed off, your own face paling at the realization that Hongjoong had been murdered because of a petty rivalry of sorts from the past that San had yet to let go of.

Feeling lightheaded by the abundance of information swimming in your already aching head, you blacked out. When you came to your senses again, it appeared to be morning and San was making noise in another room.

Tears wet your face as you shakily reached for your phone, wishing you hadn’t because the very first notification you opened was a headline you had prayed wouldn’t be reality, accompanied by the very picture San had taken the previous night.

“Up and coming pianist Kim Hongjoong brutally murdered in his home last night; investigations still ongoing”

----- Taglist (tell me if you wanna be added):

@cometoceantrenches @ddeonghwva @galaxteez @innosintsan @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @nightqueennyx @twancingyunhoe @vocalyunho @yunhoiseyecandy

Network tag:

@8makes1teamnet

#8makes1teamnet #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #hongjoong angst #san angst #ateez hongjoong angst #ateez san angst #just- just don't ask where the idea for this came from. I swear I'm not crazy-#hanatiny writes

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youryanderedaddy · 4 years

Note

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

-------------------------------------------------------

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yancore #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere concepts

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punkyflesh · 3 years

Note

I love your fanfiction so much.. actually because of it I watched sofia the first couple of days ago and Cedric is so 😳😳 i just want to hug him and say that everything will be fine... speaking of the request for a story could you please write about how a completely-non-believing-in-magic s/o gets into their world (portal?? spell??) and they with a cedric look at each other like on mice for experiments until they slowly fall in love /i used google translate so sorry for mistakes/

AAAAA that literally made my day when i first saw it, i'm honoured to have encouraged you to watch the show & i'm glad you enjoyed it!

i’m going to make a part two for this fiction as it’ll be very long otherwise

don't apologise for the mistakes - as far as i'm aware, you're asking for the reader to be transported to enchancia who doesn't believe in magic, and cedric sees this as a good opportunity to use them for experiments blah blah love. let me know if i'm wrong about that, but enjoy!

TW: strong language used (swearing)

cedric x reader who doesn't believe in magic | oneshot - part one

"I'm just not convinced that this 'spell' of yours is going to work. You know I don't believe in that sort of crap." You said, shaking your head and folding your arms sternly. Your best friend had been trying to persuade you to try out a new teleportation spell they'd found online for many weeks now - according to the website, the spell would teleport you to a kingdom of magical opportunities and unique people - you simply did not believe the bullshit that came from a domain with a warning on the page.

It had taken a few weeks in order to gather all the equipment needed, and it amused you that your best friend was so easily swayed. You on the other hand? Well, let's just say you were only playing along to prove yourself right. As your friend finished up the alignment in which the equipment was supposed to be, they gestured for you to stand in the centre whilst they got the torn-up paper with the 'magic words' scribbled on messily. With a huff, you hesitantly stepped into the circle that had weird letters around it, glitter from the local craft place in town, and burning sage. "Alright! Are you ready to be transported to a place beyond your wildest dreams?!" Your friend exclaimed, holding onto the piece of paper excitedly and jumping up and down. Although you didn't believe that it was going to work, seeing your friend so excited ignited a sense of warmness in your heart. With a small smile, you nodded.

From then on, your hearing began to turn hazy. You could briefly hear the chanting of your friend, reading from the scrawny piece of paper, but could also hear a new ringing that was getting increasingly louder. You tried to shout out, tried to get your friend to stop and explain how you suddenly thought that this was a bad idea, but you could not hear any words escaping from your mouth. Your stomach began to churn as a bright, white light made you squint. You felt as though you were falling through a lifeless void before you hit a hard surface, your eyes still tightly sealed shut.

What the hell was that? You opened your eyes slowly to find that you were in fact laying down as if you had just got thrown against the surface of something hard. Your body felt numb. On the floor below you, you realised that you were laying upon a red carpet - you don't recall owning one, but then soon saw that the carpet was the length as one of the red carpets you'd see at a movie premiere. Using all your strength to lift up your head enough to support itself, you gazed down what seemed to be a long hallway with intricate designs and paintings decorating the walls. The ceiling was high. You couldn't tell if you were still tripping out or if this was reality but managed to gain more strength to push yourself up even further, looking around your surroundings and taking in the change of scenary. This definitely was not the dingy basement you were in 5 minutes ago. This was something a lot more elegant, posh - almost like the interior of a castle.

All of a sudden, the area you were sitting in was overcast by a shadow, a silhouette of someone. You turned your head expecting to see your friend, but instead saw the long legs of someone unfamiliar to you. They were quite tall and was wearing a long, plum-coloured robe that was tied into a neat knot above their abdomen. You gulped unconsciously and continued to raise your head until you saw the figure fully. They were looming over you, folding their arms into the sleeves of their robe and raising their eyebrow. The look on his face looked stern, but not confused or angry - more of a resting face. The figure had quite noticeable eye bags underneath his hazel eyes and a unique colouration to his hair - he had silvery-white bangs that heavily contrasted the darkness of his natural shade.

You found yourself staring at this odd hair colour before you heard him clear his throat, snapping you out of your trance and jumping slightly. "I uh.." You began, trying to pull yourself to your feet but achieving nothing in the process. The teleportation - or whatever nonsense had just happened, you were too confused to think about it - had obviously left you quite weak. "No need to explain. I'm already aware of your circumstances." The man spoke, cutting you off from what you were trying to explain. You stopped and gave the man a confused look - what did he mean he already knew the circumstances? If you were teleported...was he already aware of that? Hesitantly, you saw him offer you a hand. "It seems as though you've had quite a fall. Here." You looked to his hand - he was wearing black, fingerless gloves that were well fit against his slender fingers - and snuffled a laugh. A bold fashion choice.

Questioningly, you took the mans hand and he pulled you up onto your feet until you were able to look him in the eyes. Finally being able to share the same gaze as him set off a sudden spark in your body that ran from your heart to the hand in which was still interlocked with his own. You felt your heart begin to pound in your chest as you held onto him, not being able to take your eyes away. The same eyes that were looking down at you coldly seemed a lot softer now, gentle even. It was as if the whole world stopped. The figure stared at you for a moment longer, before clearing his throat for the second time and turning his head away, retracting his hand from yours and then offering you a small smile. “You must be my new apprentice. Marvellous to finally meet you.”

“I’m sorry, apprentice?” You questioned, your voice raspy and small. What did he mean apprentice? Apprentice for what? He raised his eyebrow at you once more and stifled a laugh. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

“I’m sorry, but you must be confused. I don’t even know who you are.”

The man looked taken back from your words, judging by the way his face transformed, you seemed to have offended him slightly. “Excuse me? I am Cedric the Sensational! Royal sorcerer of the Kingdom of Enchancia! I’ve saved a few people before and…”

Listening to the man drain on about his successes, you laughed, this time not holding it back. Your laugh caused him to stop talking and stare at you, as you shook your head and brushed off your clothes. “Sorcerer? Sorry pal, but I don’t believe in magic. Try fooling someone else with that story, because it sure ain’t gonna be me.”

Cedric listened to you as you laughed, freezing as he processed. You didn’t believe in magic, yet you had randomly appeared in the middle of the castle, dressed in clothes that’ll surely take you to the dungeon out of the blue? It just didn’t make any sense - unless…

He smirked. It had worked, his spell that he had sent out had actually worked! It was time for him to use this to his own advantage.

He was gonna have fun with his new little experiment.

#cedric oneshot #anti cedfia #comfort character #cedric x reader #cedric the great #cedric sofia the first #cedric the sensational #cedric #cedric the sorcerer #cedric the great x reader #cedric the sorcerer x reader #sofia the fandom #cedric the sensational x reader

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m-y-fandoms · 3 years

Text

COMMISSION: Joker/Akira/Ren x Reader Part 3

This fic assumes Mishima isn't a confidant, the reader is the Moon arcana instead, keep this in mind.

word count: 6.3k words, SFW

- Admin Myah

Over the next few weeks spent with Akira, or… Joker, as he seemed to be called when the situation demanded, you learned that the world was much more complicated than you ever could’ve dreamed. Sure, you praised yourself for being a little less of a sheep than the idle-brained teenagers of your everyday life who thought of nothing but gossip, status and appearances, but now you felt insignificant, like you’d been asleep all this time until Akira, Ryuji and Ann had placed six symbolic hands upon you, and shaken you to life. Layers upon layers, he explained the subconscious world that lay beneath, which ached to be revealed, only to those who’d open their eyes.

＊

It’d been a rush, your first time in the Metaverse. You’d insisted to Akira, though he protested, that you wanted to see what all of this near-unbelievable nonsense he was explaining was all about. He’d never taken non-Phantom-Thief confidants into the Metaverse, and he was hesitant, silent for a long while before deciding that your help was worth the risk. After all, he’d already told you everything, and they had no way to erase memories… yet.

You remember Akira taking your hand, the skin on skin contact. Up on the school’s rooftop with Ryuji and Ann flanking you, Akira had told you it was a precaution, to make absolutely sure that you transferred into the Metaverse with them and landed in the same place. You had to be touching one of them, for your safety, and he’d eagerly volunteered. With the cat in his bag seeming to smile at you over his shoulder (an occurrence which made you feel like you were going looney already) he tapped an app icon on his phone, some scary red little square, and with that, your body lifted, began to float, or so it seemed. Red completely consumed your vision, red and black ink like those blobs you’d seen the Phantom Thieves appear from when this all began. You gasped, stumbling back a step as if you could escape the all-encompassing wave, and Akira, sensing your trepidation, squeezed your hand slightly.

The rooftop faded, and you felt like a character from a videogame fast-traveling to their destination. Almost as fast as it appeared, the trippy red and black sludge subsided, and before you sat a dark, dreary scenery. A castle, one that obviously belonged to a malevolent ruler sat amongst a purple sky and the smell of despair.

“What the…” your mouth hung agape for a second, taking in your surroundings before letting your eyes trail down to where your hand met Akira’s. Assuming you no longer needed it, you shook him off gently, not even sparing a glance his way, and his eyebrows creased just the smallest amount, not that you noticed. You were too focused on the giant cat before you, knee-height, with a round, bulbous head. “Is… are you-?!”

“Much more handsome and dashing in this form, wouldn’t you say?” Morgana - now confirmed - gave you a sly look as you leaned down to his height to run your hand along the fur on his head.

“Wow… so cute!” You cooed.

“Hey! Stop it! Stop it! I am a warrior and to be taken seriously!” he whined, shooing away your hands, his fur on end.

“Ha!” a sharp laugh rang out behind you, and you turned to see that Morgana wasn’t the only one who’d made a drastic change. Ryuji was now clad in some kind of leather pirate’s uniform, his demeanor far more fearsome and a skull mask across his face. Ann donned a skin-tight body suit and cat mask, and Akira wore a lavish long coat, red gloves, and a masquerade mask. He looked like a magician from some fairytale, or perhaps the leader of some band of Robin-Hood-inspired band of vigilantes… although you supposed that was kind of what he was now… either way, he would make amazing source material for your main protagonist. Such swagger, a commanding presence… he didn’t seem to exactly be the same Akira you’d met earlier.

＊

The trip to the Metaverse was almost completely uneventful… almost. Just once, when you’d begged Akira to press forward and show you the inside of the castle, something called a “shadow” attacked, and you got to see the band of thieves in action. It was shocking, leaving chills running down your spine. Here were your classmates, people your age with ghost-like spirits materializing at their backs, flipping through the castle’s corridors, shooting guns and slingshots and magic at terrifying beasts. It was all so fast-paced, so stunning, that your body locked up witnessing the battle. A shadow spotted you in the background, defenseless and clearly not part of the Phantom Thief entourage, and taking the petty opportunity only a sore-loser on the ropes would take, struck out against you. You shrieked, your hands uselessly coming up to defend your face as if it would help. Akira’s eyes widened, his reflexes so much faster in this realm, and turned on his heel, diving in front of you to deflect the blast of frosty energy swirling toward you. It bounced off of the side of his large steel dagger and ricoheted back at the shadow. After assessing the situation and asking if you were okay, Akira decided it was time to return you back to the real world. It was too dangerous for someone without a persona to wander here. The thieves would return later, once you were safe at home.

＊

Anyway, now you believed him, you knew everything he was saying, about Kamoshida and his fucked up mind, about confidants, personas and metacognition was real and very much a serious matter. Now all that was left was to decide just how you could help them, what kind of deal you could strike with the clever leader of the Phantom Thieves. Of course, he didn’t expect you to get something and give nothing.

It was decided that you’d offer your knowledge as a writer to help with negotiation and charming shadows in the Metaverse. You’d turn those golden lines you wrote on the pages into real-life lessons, and Akira would learn to seduce shadows, to out-smart them, to persuade them to give up everything they had: their money, precious belongings, even their very selves. He would flirt, threaten, intimidate, any honeyed word or silver-tongued method he could use to make deals with shadows go along more smoothly. Perfect. It would help him out immensely. But, what did you want, he’d asked again.

It felt embarrassing, now that you were put on the spot, forced to disclose it, but although those “golden words” translated well into lessons for others, you found that you couldn’t as easily take your own advice. You struggled with human interaction in your real life, especially of the romantic kind. You could write a healthy relationship out on paper, create the ideal love interest from scratch for a story, but stumbled along words like some socially incompetent fool once it came time to apply that knowledge. As much as you hated to admit it, these days even getting true, realistic romantic moments down on paper was a struggle. The well was drying up, writer’s block, as you’d explained it to your online friends. It was near impossible to make something from nothing, and you had nothing. No real romantic experience. You couldn’t help but think this was the route of the problem. Your writing, your precious romance novel would flourish, if only it’s author wasn’t completely clueless.

“Date me…” You mumbled, surprised out how your long moment of pensive introspection had accumulated into this clunky statement.

“What?” Akira let out a breath he’d seemed to be holding the entire time, just watching you think on what method of reciprocity was worth your help. Losing your nerve at the incredulous tone of his voice and the raise of his brows, you shrunk back a bit, ready to defend your words.

“W-wait!” You held a hand out between you. “Not really. I mean…” how to word this…? “Like, fake!” He looked even more confused than before. You released a noise of frustration. “What I mean is, you take me on dates - fake ones - stupid little stuff couples do, for my writing, of course…” You looked toward the ground, suddenly extremely interested in your shoes.

“How does that benefit you in any way?” He smiled, a bit forced, a blush dusting his pale cheeks.

“Well I- I’ve been having writer's block lately. I mean sure, I can give you lines and lessons from my previous works, drabble and things I’ve learned, written down in the past, but I have no fresh material. Stagnation is every writer’s downfall, but I have no experience, I need more to go off of… and then maybe I can even transfer what I discern from our… interactions - er… dates I mean - to you. Does that make sense?” You looked up at him hopefully.

“Uh… no,” Yeah, you knew it didn’t, but that’s all you had for him. His hand shook, much less confident as Akira than Joker, and he shoved it in his pocket.

“It’s hard to explain, I just… that’s my deal. Will you take it?” You clutched your bag a little closer to your body. “We don’t even have to tell anybody. I just want to experience it… going out… with someone…” It sounded a little more pathetic now that you were actually hearing yourself. You both stood in silence, Akira contemplating your words. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you as a person… it was just… complicated…

“Give me a day to think about it,” he spoke quietly, giving you a polite send off before parting ways.

That night, anxiety set in as you rolled around in your bed restlessly.

Did you sound like a creep? Were you being unreasonable? Was this asking too much of him? Does he think you’re crazy? You’ll probably never hear from him again. He’d probably rather find a way in that crazy Metaverse to erase your memories so he can forget the awkward exchange ever happened. Maybe he’ll kick your shadow’s ass one day.

You debated going to school the next day.

＊

Akira’s night, though not as horrendous as yours, was not a peaceful one. Like so many nights, he found himself awoken to the clink of a ball and chain, dressed in striped rags as he stood and walked to the bars of his cell. The twins were waiting, as always, anger in their eyes.

“Look alive, prisoner!” Caroline spoke.

“Our master would have a word with you!” Justine chimed in. Akira looked up, meeting Igor’s large grin.

“You’ve forsaken a bond, Trickster. One must ask, why?” Igor’s hands splayed over a deck on cards on his desk.

“Huh…? What do you mean?” Sleep lingering in his mind, and confused as to why he was here this time, Akira replied.

“I’ve told you, the bonds you strengthen over time and the new bonds you form, they will be what wins this fight. You can only complete your mission, save all that is, through the support your confidants provide, so why have you abandoned this bond?” Igor’s fingers folded together, hands clasped, a show of disappointment. “Now is not the time to not try hard enough.” Was that a hint of frustration in his tone? If so, he didn’t show it.

“...I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Akira rubbed one eye lazily.

“You’re not trying to understand, worm! Wake up!” Caroline’s fist banged down across the bars, startling Akira slightly. He looked to Igor again, who held up a single card between two fingers. On its face sat two wolves, both howling up at a glittering moon.

“The Moon.” Igor stated plainly. “Illusion, fear, anxiety, intuition, uncertainty, complexity, secrets, the unconscious mind. A friend, a possible lover, someone unsure of themselves and others. Creativity, shadowed by doubt. Someone who supports others but not themselves.” As he spoke, images of your face flashed in Akira’s mind. Igor threw the card into the air, catching it upside-down, letting the wolves fall into the moon, swimming in its glow. “Reversed: release of fear, repressed emotion, clarity, misinterpretations overturned. Someone who can fix what was upright. But you’ve passed over the opportunity.” Igor swipes his free hand in front of the card, and it disappears.

Scenes play out in Akira’s head. Confrontation with shadows, confrontations with real people, but these aren’t real… or rather, haven’t happened yet.

He receives clarity.

The Moon has more to offer than lessons on charisma, seduction, trickery, persuasion. His intuition will grow, his ability to perceive things before they happen, the ability to read and understand people, and be understood in return. Other bonds will grow, empathy will grow. More friends, closer friends, a flash of blue hair, white uniform, red hair, headphones, then a tidy uniform, a Shujin uniform, gloves, a beige jacket, and finally bouncy curls and a soft, high pitched voice. With your help, the Phantom Thieves can grow. Bonds will strengthen. Complexity, Igor had said. More than meets the eye. Was there more to you? You weren’t too bad, obviously intelligent… a bit odd, but kind enough, and he did find you cute… but pretending, a fake relationship? How could a fake bond strengthen

The card reappears, as if out of thin air, and Igor points to one upside down wolf.

“Me.” Joker whispers, as if guided by an unseen force. Igor points to the other wolf.

You.

He awakens with a start, nearly knocking Morgana off the bed. He has an answer for you now.

＊

He finds you at school the next day, huddled in the library and not where you’d said you’d meet him. You’d been dreading this, waiting for the rejection, your hand trembling slightly on the book in your hands. He sits across from you, a look of determination on his face. Waiting for him to speak was torture.

“I’ll do it.” He holds out a hand, waiting for you to shake it, seal the deal. A contact has been signed.

＊

Your first date with Akira is clunky, unpracticed, unprecedented of course. He doesn’t know much about what to do, either, so he takes you to Le Blanc for dinner. Some coffee and curry, maybe a soda and some conversation on the side? It couldn’t be too bad, right? That’s what dudes do, he thought, bring their... pretend sweetheart somewhere for dinner, right? Sojiro is teasing, of course, wondering who this new person was, why Akira was holding their hand. He smirks like a dad proud of his boy, and Akira, too embarrassed under Sojiro’s scrutiny now to sit down and serve you curry, rushes you upstairs.

After being dragged by the hand up rickety old stairs, you end up in Akira’s room alone. You look around, taking in his sparse decorations, humble belongings. It then strikes you that you are, in fact, alone. Alone with a boy in his room, for the first time in your life. You didn’t know how you got here, and so fast. Maybe you were in over your head. Maybe you just needed to calm down. This was part of the process, right? Real couples did this, to get to know each other. He beckons you over, gestures for you to sit on his bed with him. You’re hesitant, but Akira isn’t making a big deal out of it, and you’re not really alone, with Morgana right there, so you sit, as far from him as you could be on the surprisingly soft bed. Struggling for words and new to dates himself, Akira decides to treat you first and foremost like his friend. That makes this all easier.

He spends the next hour or so describing Mementos, his mentor Igor, the twins. He wants you to know everything, and it surprises him. His other confidants, save for the actual Phantom Thieves, don’t know anything about the hidden world their bonds are healing. He describes the arcana to you, the tarot, the way his soul resonates with The Fool, Ryuji The Chariot, Ann The Lovers. His doctor friend is Death, Sojiro the Hierophant. Morgana here is the Magician, and proud of it. He explains how he feels a bond with them, as he now does with you. They make him feel like he can do anything. You’re included in that now. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks. How could he say that so casually? It wasn’t like it was a love confession or whatever, but you had trouble seriously telling your online friends you appreciated having them in your lives without adding a joke or meme in there somewhere. Why did he even need your help? He seemed well spoken. You said so, voicing these opinions aloud.

“Huh.. you know, I actually don’t usually talk this much,” he smiled. “Must just be you.” He was only half teasing. You looked away nervously, feeling the need to change the subject.

“S-so, what am I?” You began to stroke Morgana’s fur, and this time he didn’t seem to mind.

“You mean your soul?” He scooted a bit closer.

“Yeah.” It didn’t go unnoticed.

“The Moon.” He replied softly.

He spent the rest of the night explaining the levels of Mementos, and some of the wicked people whose hearts he’s had the displeasure of seeing inside, but the absolute pleasure of changing. You say you aren’t surprised so many people are walking around so hurt inside or eager to hurt others. When the “date” ends - neither of you having even gotten that promised coffee or curry downstairs - you’re touching, sitting shoulder to shoulder looking at the moon outside his window with Morgana on your lap. The room seems a little warmer, a little less humble. Akira mentions with a sheepish grin that it’s getting late, and offers to walk you home.

Rank Up!

＊

You sit in your bed that night, Akira now having returned to Le Blanc, and think about if this will make good writing material or not. You had to have learned something, right? There was something to be gained from every experience… but you can’t help feeling like you’ve warmed up to the thought of Akira a bit more… not too much, however. You smiled to yourself at the thought of The Fool, tricked into dating the Moon, for all it can offer him.

He’d been so awkward at your front door when he dropped you off. You could tell he had no clue what to do. He was frantically looking around. People in movies kissed their date at this point, cheek or lips, depending on how the date went, right? He confessed that he’s one of those people who truly don’t know anything about romance, like you’d mentioned earlier in one of your conversations. You tell him it’s fine, that you didn’t expect anything, that you just met the other day. He thought he was being clear, dropping hints that he might want to peck your cheek, just a quick gesture to kick off your fake relationship, but maybe he wasn’t as slick as he thought. The hints seemed to go over your head. Maybe he really did need help.

＊

Your second date comes in the form of you begging to go back into the Metaverse for some inspiration. He fights you, bringing up the last time a shadow attacked you, but you are persistent. He gives in, taking you to the highest rung of Mementos, where the shadows are weak and he can keep you safe adequately on his own. It is a date, after all, no Phantom Thieves tagging along. Mementos is a bit more frightening than Kamoshida’s Palace, you mention, and he eases your fear, promising to protect you here, always. You take in his Phantom Thief uniform in more detail as you walk the long corridors of the realm of the subconscious and decide he looks quite handsome in it.

You watch him battle a demon that is the personification of lust, a succubus-like creature dripping with temptation and love, or so it thinks. Joker uses all that you’ve taught him so far, which isn’t much, and cons the false idol of love out of their money. It was quite comical yet a bit sad to watch the shadows expression fall from a cocky to a defeated one, but preformative love you’ve decided, is doomed to lose. The irony flies over your head.

From this experience, watching Joker fight with speed and grace, you settle on a genre for your novel. It will be a high-fantasy romance. Joker will inspire your main character, of course, but the love interest… was still undecided. You started drafting her to look like Ann, act like Ann, give off the energy and power Ann does. Ryuji was an option at first as well to inspire the love interest’s personality, but he was a bit too brash. You wanted someone strong, but soft and elegant at the same time. These characters were loosely based on the Phantom Thieves, anyway, so it didn’t really matter.

＊

When you leave the Metaverse, though Akira is a bit exhausted, he takes you to a local casual restaurant to make up for the last time at Le Blanc. There, sitting across the counter from you two is an older gentleman. Yoshida, Akira whispers, is a friend of his, another confidant. The Sun. Yoshida makes small talk, asking politely if you’re with Akira, and you feel your stomach clench. You knew this was fake, the agreement was clear, but hearing it aloud, the awkward ‘we’re just friends’ that was coming made you sweat. It still felt like rejection anyway. When Akira confirms that yes, you are in fact dating, your eyes widen, the coil in your stomach releasing. He smiles, taking your hand. This has to be an act, a show to play up the relationship. He’s just performing his duty, his role, holding up his end of the deal in order to simulate a real relationship and give you worthwhile source material… right?

Either way, you appreciate not being publicly humiliated, and smile back. That night, you write down everything, and what it’s like to not be alone.

Rank Up!

＊

Days pass, Kamoshida coming and going, justice being served, and you spend more and more time with your fake boyfriend. Your parents let him come over, and in your room you let him read some of the old poetry you’ve written, some lame pining drabble from your younger years, and some more recent things you’re proud of. He scours your room, digging up old hobbies and photos. You tell him all about them. He tells you he enjoys learning these things about you. You simply smile. It doesn’t seem to be the reaction he was looking for. Not liking the small frown that adorns his features, you pick the conversation back up, asking if he thinks you’ll ever have a persona. He smiles, maybe someday.

Rank Up!

＊

The Phantom Thieves are gaining fame, only more fodder for your writing. The more you hang out with Akira and his friends, the more real it feels. Your online friends can feel it, too. They sense you changing, talking less of writing and more of Akira. They tease you, of course, but they don’t get it. He’s just a main character… just a muse.

This time, Akira walks home to Le Blanc alone, wondering if he should tell you how he feels. He doesn’t like it, holding up this pretense of a fake relationship, pretending the glances and touches don’t matter. He wants to tell you…

...that he’s slowly falling.

You receive a little gift in the mail the next day. It’s a deck of tarot cards. The return address is blank. You call him to tell him all about it, and end up discussing the pros and cons of each card all night. What a coincidence that you should receive your own deck all of a sudden.

Rank Up!

＊

There are moments where you’re afraid you may be falling, too. There was the time that a blue-haired young man stalked you and your friends through Shibuya, turning corners when you did, always on your trail. When Ryuji finally got fed up and confronted the weirdo, asking why the hell he was following you guys, he’d revealed that his name was Yusuke, a student of a painting master, and that he was simply following inspiration where it lead.

“Your friend there, I was drawn to them,” he points elegantly, like some manga bishounen, past Ryuji and toward you. “I beg of you, allow me to paint your form. Something about your normalcy stands out. What I mean is, there is beauty to be found in not standing out, a silent grace in being so plain.” You could tell Yusuke meant no harm, that he simply may be a bit socially inept with his words, as well, but the way he was talking about you set something in Akira on fire. He stood in front of you, shifting until his body blocked yours from Yusuke’s sight.

“They aren’t plain.” He spoke with a dangerous edge to his tone, and you felt your heartbeat speed up. The hint of jealousy in his voice at Yusuke’s request for you to model for him, and anger at him calling someone he found so fascinating plain was evident.

＊

Yusuke seemed to be in denial in the coming days. Though your little troupe seemed to constantly be bumping into him, offering him sound advice and trying to awaken him to the mire of corruption that was the truth behind his mentor, Ichiryusai Madarame, he refused to see reason. He dove further into his art, but you could tell he was hurting. You used your time with Akira these days to teach him how art, much like film and literature, can reflect false truths and influence people. The deception, corruption and shallowness of the media extended to the art world, as he learned after one or two gallery visits with you.

It was then, in a gallery displaying Yusuke’s work, as you sat in a secluded corner alone discussing ways to take down Madarame, that Akira started to flirt incessantly.

He takes your hand, bringing up romantic tropes in movies he’s seen that seem so forced, one-sided, cliche, uncomfortable. He mentions that he would’ve done better, explains how those scenes would’ve played out if he had any say.

“Is that so?” Your brow raises, amused by how animated this usually quiet boy could be when he was passionate about something.

“Yeah! Of course! What, you don’t see me doing that?” he laughed breathily, going on about how the male lead of some high-school romance film Sojiro rented for him was clumsy, forceful, and didn't give his lover time and space to think about their feelings. “I would’ve treated them much, much better… “ his words trail off, as if lost in thought.

“...Is that so?” You ask again, studying his face and asking yourself how you didn’t notice before how beautiful the hue of his eyes were. You sure as hell were noticing now… steely grey, sharp, deep, purposeful. You’d have to write that down… for research purposes of course. When you pull yourself back to reality, no longer lost in the swirl of his irises, you realize he’s staring at you, and has been for some time.

“Do… can I-” he speaks, throat dry, and scoots himself closer. “May I kiss you…?” His voice is soft, so soft, scared.

“...Yes.” You answer, naturally, impulsively, voice just as soft. When Akira leans forward, and softly presses his apprehensive lips to yours, you feel like you’ve been set on fire. Your mind begins to go crazy, while your body is frozen. It’s not that you didn’t like it, some part of you did. You wanted more, but it felt wrong. This wasn’t real. You didn’t truly like him… right? This kiss was fake, for research purposes… to cure writer’s block…

...right?

You were frozen more from guilt than nerves. Weren’t first kisses supposed to feel like little butterflies in your stomach? Did he think he owed you this? Were you taking advantage of him at this point? Did he feel forced to kiss you to keep up his end of the bargain?

Akira deepened the kiss, a hand on the back of your neck, guiding you, begging you to reciprocate. When you didn’t, lost in your own head, he pulls away, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“W-we… we should head home. I’ll walk you…” he sighs. You both stand, make your way back onto the main street from the museum, and are silent the entire walk home.

You think he’s silent because you’ve forced him to think he needs to kiss you, and now regrets his decision. He thinks you’re silent because he’s just forced a kiss upon you, just like some Chad from a movie who can’t understand boundaries. Neither of you know your silence is for the exact same reasons.

Akira drops you off at home with a quiet ‘goodnight,’ and walks home, clearing his head in the cool night air.

“Stupid… jeez… fuckin’ stupid,” he huffs, repirmanding himself. This wasn’t real. You’d stated that from the beginning. This relationship was to benefit your writing, to help him in the Metaverse, nothing else. Nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

It was his fault he let himself develop real feelings. He has no right to be sad, to blame you, to get upset. You’d stated the terms from the very start…

Maybe he really was The Fool.

Rank Up…?

＊

The next few weeks are awkward.

Both of you think it’s your fault.

You go on dates like usual, but they are strictly business. You get writing material, he gets advice, no touching, and certainly no kissing. Yusuke joins the group. Things are great… friendly… strained, tense. Akira wonders what the hell he’s doing, if this bond is even worth it. Weeks pass. He feels your bond with him growing, but not in the way he wishes. It felt like all of his other confidants: visit, gain, rank up, gain power, learn. He wonders if he can keep this up. His heart aches. He wants to touch you more, but can’t, wants to tell you more, but won’t let himself.

＊

One rainy night, he calls you, like he often does when you can’t meet up in person, and tells you he can’t do this anymore. You lie, and say you agree. The guilt won’t let you tell him the truth, that you want to end the farce, move onto something more real. You can sense your feelings for him growing stronger each day, and it’s not fair to him. Without fighting, without the big “it’s not you it’s me you” you’re used to reading about in books, you tell him you respect his decision, and it’s over. When Akira hangs up, he finds himself a bit angry inside. You didn’t even try to fight for the relationship. There was a tiny little part of him that hoped you felt anything for him, that maybe it meant something to you. He cries that night, for the first time in a long time. They are angry tears, frustrated ones.

＊

In your bed, you find yourself sitting upright, dead inside, unfeeling, empty. You feel like a part of you is gone, but can’t pinpoint why. You don’t even notice the tears sliding down your own cheeks as you sift through the pack of tarot cards that mysteriously came into your life. You find The Moon, and play with it, twisting it between your fingers before sending it flying across the room like a paper dart. Did this mean you couldn’t hang out with the Phantom Thieves anymore? Were you losing your only in-real-life friends and… boyfriend(?) all in the same day?

You sifted through the cards and gently set aside the Emperor, the Lovers, the Chariot. Then your hand drifted over the Fool. You held it out in front of your face. A dancing man looking up at the sky with a jesters cap perched upon his head smiled back at you.

The start of a great journey, freedom from constraints. Each day is an adventure. Courage, anything can happen. There is a need to experience new things, to let yourself experience the love you deserve. Be willing to take risks.

A sad, thoughtful smile crosses your lips. You turn the card upside down.

If you disregard the repercussions of your actions, you are the Fool. You cannot see the position you’ve put yourself in. Is everything what it seems to be?

A breath catches in your throat, a wave of nausea hitting you. You scramble for your phone, and dial a number.

Silence, ringing, silence.

“...Yeah…?” Akira sniffles. He’s been crying???

“I want… can we talk… can I come over?”

“It’s late.”

“It’s not, we came home way earlier than usual. You’re just using that as an excuse.” You were feeling a little braver than usual, the spirit of the Fool within you. You heard him thinking, a sigh that came through as static.

“Yeah… fine, I’ll be waiting.” Relief washed over you.

＊

When you knocked on the door after speed-walking to Le Blanc, Sojiro let you in with a warm smile. He obviously didn’t know about your falling out with Akria, yet.

“He’s upstairs,” he gestured, exhaustion evident in his voice. You rushed past, thanking him with a small bow of your head. Only now was the inevitable fear starting to sink in. Akira heard footsteps creaking on the stairs. Sojiro never came up unannounced, and with that realization, his back stiffened. Morgana picked up your scent, excusing himself, passing you on your way up the stairs. He could take a hint.

He stood immediately, stepping toward you, stopping halfway. You shrunk into yourself, unable to meet his eyes.

“Akira… I wanted to talk…” you muttered.

“You said that… about what?” He was more than a little pissed, but he was always one to hide his temper well.

“Can we sit…?” You gestured to his small sofa. It didn’t feel right to sit on the bed. He hesitated, before shuffling over and sitting next to you. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” Oh, there were so many things, but he wanted to know what you thought was worth apologizing over. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, he dialed back his attitude a tad.

“For… making you enter into the agreement in the first place. Someone’s affections, their love, their touch and body… it’s not something that can be forced. It should never be pretend.” You felt like the biggest hypocrite ever right now. His head shook a bit in disbelief, blinking hard.

“I wasn’t pretending!” His hands flew to his hair, mussing it. “That was the problem.” He sighed heavily.

“What?” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I wasn’t being forced… are you… you must be the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.” He laughed cynically.

“But-”

“Wait, wait, why did you think I ended our” he put air quotes up, “ ‘fake’ relationship.” He needed this clarification, now. For closure, for redemption, to fix things, whatever may come next.

“Because… because I was forcing you to date me! You were uncomfortable?!” You could feel your voice begin to break, tears clawing to escape. You’d never felt so disgusted with yourself as you did right now.

“Are you serious?” He took both of your hands, looking you in the eyes. You nod. “Answer truthfully. Do you have feelings for me? Real ones?” You bit your lip, that feeling of selfish guilt creeping like bile up your throat. You nod again. “This whole time?” Another nod. He releases you, turning away. “Sheesh, maybe I’m the oblivious one here…” he spoke more to himself than to you. You both sat in tense silence, not sure what to do, what to say.

“Akira…”

“It was real to me,” he moved closer, trapping you against the end of the couch.

“Really?” Your heartbeat was going crazy, and he leaned ever so slightly closer, his hand on the back of the couch for support. “I broke up with you because it was hurting me to pretend I didn’t have real feelings for you, and to think you didn’t want me back, not for real. I thought… that you’d always think of me as just some character for your book.”

“No… Akira… had I known you felt this way…” He leaned in further, your noses bumping slightly, clumsily. This time, he felt no discomfort, no hesitation from your side. His heart fluttered in excitement. You could feel his breath on your warm cheeks.

“May I kiss you?” He asked again, a secondary, unspoken question sitting beneath his words.

“Yes.” Your voice was shaky, but you were sure, for once, of what you wanted. His hand went to your back, cradling you into his chest to lay down flat against the couch. With a passion he’d been holding back, he pressed his lips to yours without reservation. You sunk into the warm, plush feeling, tilting your head at a better angle. He kept the kiss soft, shallow, low pressure, looking for you to give him the signal to stop. When your arms reached upward, snaking around his neck and pulling him harder down into you, he groaned softly, barely audible, before passing his tongue over your lips a single time. You parted your lips, allowing him access, and his hand, pale and trembling, came up and found its way under the hem of your shirt, splayed nervously against the smooth skin there.

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neo-shitty · 3 years

Text

all the muggle things. — c.s

description. in which you and san spent the rest of your days after hogwarts getting the muggle experience.

pairings. slytherin!choi san x gender-neutral (wizard) reader (yes, this fic is house friendly)

genre. harry potter/hogwarts!au, fluff

warnings. mentions of injury.

word count. 1.6k

writer’s notes. i don’t know why i never thought of writing a harry potter-inspired au before! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for ateez. i hope this didn’t turn out so bad!

inspired by option #1 (roommates au) + prompt #36 from this list (given by @kathyrncapp835)+ prompt #46 from @ficscafe‘s dialogue prompt event (given by @meaningfulmess). prompt lines are bolded.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ TERMINOLOGY GUIDE :: for the muggles, explained and simplified by yours truly

Muggle - someone who isn’t able to use magic / non-wizard

Lumos - spell that makes the tip of a wizard’s wand light up

Quidditch - a game for wizards that involves flying on brooms and shooting balls through hoops, basically basketball but more complex because there are three hoops and someone’s trying to catch an ‘i-am-speed’ ball that dictates the fate of the game in the end

Sectumsempra - a spell that lacerates the opponent

Wizarding War - the war between Voldemort’s side and Harry’s

Dark Mark - Voldermort’s mark

Nox - counter spell to Lumos that switches the wand’s light off

You tried your best to peer your eyes open when you heard the front door slam shut. You groaned, infuriated at how such simple tasks like breathing and opening your eyes required extra effort whenever you were sick. But getting sick was merely a consequence of your own actions, so you really didn’t have anyone else to blame but yourself.

You managed to open one eye, fighting back the heavy eyelid that threatened to shut and you searched the room for other movements besides your own.

“It’s 2AM, go back to sleep,” a voice said. Soon, it’s owner emerged from the shadows of the doorway.

Dressed in his all-black work uniform was San. His whole figure blended into the background too well that it almost seemed like he’d apparated back to your place. But with the faint sound of his footfalls, you concluded that he used the muggle way in.

You turned your head. You considered turning your whole body but everything felt sore and heavy. Plus, you were content with the way the comforter was wrapped around you—which was rare, even on better days. You watched San pass by the living room before heading to the kitchen. Though you couldn’t see him from the living room couch, you could see the shadow casted on the floorboards by the kitchen light he switched on. It danced as he moved around, probably to get a late night snack before heading to bed. You could hear him uttering hushed incantations followed by the faint clattering of kitchen metals.

“I’m glad you didn’t burn the house down while I was gone,” he said from the kitchen.

A smile crept up to your lips at his statement. You opened your mouth to utter a small thank you but you could only manage a whisper. You weren’t even sure if he even heard it from that far.

Moments later, he reappeared by the kitchen doorway. “But you were cutting it a bit too close though,” he continued, clutching a frying pan in his right hand.

The pan—originally gray—was now blackened from the mishap earlier. You had fallen asleep in the middle of cooking your own dinner, only waking up to the smell of burnt meat. The scent had been that thick that it managed to seep through your clogged nostrils. It was that bad. You ended up ordering take out instead. You forgot that you didn’t clean up the evidence.

A croaky laugh escaped your lips as you recalled the accident. San only shook his head, disappearing back into the kitchen to put the pan back to the sink. When he came back, he had two cups in hand. He walked over to set both down on their respective coasters on the glass center table of your living room. When he reached over to turn the lights on you stopped him.

“Don’t turn the lights on,” you said, your voice barely audible but he hears it, stopping before the lamp fully on. “They’re too bright. It’ll give me another headache.”

You see his silhouette nod. You could hear him flipping his coat around, shuffling to find something. You didn’t know what he was searching for exactly and you opted to ask him. But you soon find out what it was when you hear him whisper.

“Lumos.”

Where San stood, an orb of light began to glow. You soon realized that the light came from the tip of a stick. He was holding the fir wand in his hand, controlling its brightness until it was just right. Soon, it illuminated the room with a faint light—bright enough for you to see outlines of the room and the furniture scattered but not bright enough to make your eyes water like the lamps did.

He walked over to where you were before leaving his hand outstretched. “Sit up to drink your leaf water,” he said, earning a chuckle from you.

“Leaf water,” you repeated in a hoarse voice before taking his hand in yours, clutching it as you helped yourself up. You crossed your legs, tucking each foot beneath the opposite leg in order to give room on the couch for San to sit.

He handed you your cup of tea before he sat adjacent to you with his own cup in one hand and his wand in the other. Your eyes lingered on the wooden stick he gripped in his hand and on the fingers he had wrapped around it. All his rings were silver, representing the complementing color of his house, Slytherin. Or that was what you remembered of him back when you were still studying at Hogwarts.

You recalled when you used to watch him play Quidditch. He always kissed his rings first before putting on his gloves. He was deemed one of the more valuable players next to their seeker and you were just another student from another house. It wasn’t until your last school year at Hogwarts when you first interacted. The first time you both went beyond the occasional glances you shared whenever you were both in the same class.

Though your first time meeting wasn’t the best setting for the start of something new.

You were tending to one injury after another, working with the school nurse to cater every student who ran to the infirmary for aid or additional support in the form of potions. San had walked in alone and upon catching sight of his green sigil, your first instinct was to cast a spell to disarm him. But he didn’t have his wand raised, nor did he show any indications that he was about to attack. Your guard was up; he was still a Slytherin and fighting for the opposing side.

But he was still a student of the school with a bleeding arm. The rip on his upper sleeve revealed enough of his wound for your body to move on its own without much guidance. You led him to the nearest vacant bed, letting him standby until you got everything you needed from the cabinets.

In the time you were treating the wound, you learned that it took him half the war and a Sectumsempra to the arm (which was originally aimed at his chest; thankfully he was able to dodge it—barely) to realize that he was fighting for the wrong side of the Wizarding War. He was glad he was going to sit out the rest of it and vowed to—and you quote—“Never do stupid shit again.”.

The Dark Mark was still tattooed on his arm, a permanent reminder of decisions that did more harm than good both to him and to the people around him. The tattoo faded over time as the population of evil wizards gradually decreased.

Your brain was hot-wired to never trust a Slytherin. Or at least, it used to be.

Much to your surprise, San did keep his words that night at the infirmary. He spent his years after Hogwarts atoning for all the damage he’d caused, dedicating nearly all his hours into hunting the last of the witches and wizards who still practiced the Dark Arts.

San shifted beside you, leaning against the back of the couch before turning to look at you. He set his mug back down to its coaster before he pressed his palm against your forehead.

“I’m feeling a bit better, don’t worry. I think I’ll be fine by morning.”

“I still don’t get why you let yourself be sick when you can just—” he flicked his wand, “—it away.”

You set your own mug down after taking a sip, only noticing then that he pulled out the matching Hogwarts house coasters. His furrowed expression softened when you held his hand, peeling it off your forehead before sandwiching it between your cold ones.

“I’m trying to experience muggle living,” you answered.

Slytherins normally weren’t the type who liked involving themselves with muggle things, more so with the muggle way of living. But San wasn’t always like other Slytherins. Cheesy, you thought. But it was a fact.

You held his stare when his eyes landed on yours. You knew his mind was brewing some sort of egoistic line or anything short yet clever to say. But you were faster.

“You did well today,” you told him, drawing random shapes and symbols on the back of his palm.

Even after hearing it everyday for the past few years, San’s heart still warmed upon hearing the words leave your lips.

You said it the first time at the infirmary. At first, you were unsure if you were saying it to yourself as he heard you utter it after you patched him up. Later that day, you reassured him that it was meant for him. San, at the time, wasn’t too keen on accepting it. Nothing about what he did that day was worth the praise. But he soon realized you were referring to his decision to right his mistakes instead of staying ignorant.

You haven’t stopped saying it since then. The phrase became more of a part of your routine over time but it still held the same value as the first time you ever said it. You still smiled softly after saying it and you still looked at him fondly like you were genuinely proud of it. San was trained to easily catch whenever people lied—be it in the form of speaking or in acting. But he never found any trace of ingenuity whenever it came to you.

Somehow, that was enough to convince him that he could still make up for mistakes made in the past. It wasn’t too late yet.

You catch the moment the corner of his lips curved up into a smile. One sly finger up, you were ready to—once again—poke the dimple on the side of his mouth.

He hated that. But if he were to be honest, he could never really hate anything you did. One ‘Nox’ and a flick of his wand later, the light on the tip of his wand disappeared—plunging the both of you into complete darkness before your finger could even touch his skin.

“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath, drawing your hand back and crossing them over your chest.

You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you could tell the smirk from his tone, “Of course you do.”

#san scenarios #san fluff #san blurbs #ficscafe dpe #ficscafe #san #kwritersworldnet #kpopscape #san x reader #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #san imagines #ok g what else do i tag #toff.writes

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

Maribat March 2021 @maribatmarch-2k21

Day 1: Found Family

“Ah! Bonjour!” A cheery voice called, as a short Eurasian girl bound over to the unfairly intimidating mob of tall people with sharp eyes. Chloe had called in a favor. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Chloe told me that your tour guide cancelled at the last minute, so she blackmail—sorry, begged me to fill in for them. You are the Wayne’s, non?”

The one at the front of the group, clearly Bruce Wayne since Marinette didn’t live under a rock and had seen the man on several American news broadcasts before, nodded and cleared his throat. Man, was he intimidating. Even when he shot her a dazzling smile that was sure to blind Paparazzi with fake cheer. It was a nice smile, Marinette wasn’t about to deny. But it was empty. Distant. And Marinette wasn’t going to buy it for a second.

“Yes, that’s us. Mademoiselle Bourgeois mentioned she had asked a close friend of hers to take care of our tour.”

Marinette nodded again, clasping her hands behind her back. “I guarantee, you won’t miss anything the tour guide would have shown you. In fact, Chloe mentioned that you all were very curious about the now retired Parisian heroes, right? My former best friend ran the Ladyblog back when they were active. I am more than confident that I can answer any questions you have while we go through the city.”

A boy with a white streak in his hair rose his hand, as if he was in a class and needed to wait to be called on. Which, considering the sheer size of their family, Marinette was actually grateful for. But damn, this was another imposing figure. Slightly taller than even the six-foot-three-inches that Bruce Wayne owned, he was solidly built and rocked a brown leather jacket and ripped black jeans. Marinette smiled and nodded for him to speak.

“How old are you? Because I don’t know if twelve year olds are allowed to do guided tours,” there was an obvious tease in his voice, but there was also legitimate concern in his blue-green eyes. Marinette almost missed that concern amid her quickly building annoyance. She even felt her eyes twitch.

“I’m turning eighteen in a few months if you need to know, Monsieur,” she evened out the bite in her voice with an overly sweet smile. “And if you want to get lost and possibly pickpocketed in the busy streets of Paris, then please continue to make comments on my height. If not, we can begin our tour and you might even enjoy it.”

Several Wayne’s snickered at her comeback, one man in particular elbowing the white haired gentleman with a little too much glee. Even the stoic Bruce laughed softly, and a boy with enough bags under his eyes to make the airport jealous nearly fell over himself with his suppressed laughter.

The man himself just snorted, sending her a lopsided smirk that oddly radiated approval. It was almost as if she had passed some sort of test.

“My name’s Jason, Pixie. You already know B. The guy trying to break my ribs,” he pointedly shoved off the one who had elbowed him, “is Dick. He’s Bruce’s first adoptive casualty. The one that looks like a zombie is Tim, we might need to take a break to get him more coffee before he passes out halfway through. The one who hasn’t stopped glaring at you is Damian, the badass redhead is Barbara but we all call her Babs. The annoying blonde is Stephany, the other cool badass over there is Cass. She doesn’t talk much. And the one trying to pretend he doesn’t know us is Duke.”

Each member he introduced gave her a little wave or nod. Even Damian managed a short nod of acknowledgement before resuming his glare. He looked to be a couple years younger than her, so she just brushed it off as teenage drama.

“Alright then! It is very nice to meet you all. Now, Chloe did inform me that you guys are very multilingual, which is another reason she asked me instead of one of our other friends. If you ever need it, I obviously am fluent in both French and English. But added to that, I am fluent in Cantonese, Mandarin, Italian, and I know basic survival Japanese. I also know French Sign Language, though I’m not sure if that’s very useful for you unfortunately. If you ever need to communicate non-verbally, I will do my best to accommodate that. Now, I believe you guys were scheduled to start the tour with a visit to the Louvre, non? Right this way.”

As Marinette led the large group out of the Grand Paris, they didn’t bother taking time to admire the sights before asking questions.

“Have you ever met one of the heroes?” Dick, who might have been shorter than Jason and Bruce but was muscular enough to still inspire caution (and admiration), asked. His blue eyes seemingly stared right through Marinette as he continued; “If you’re almost eighteen, then they must have been active through a lot of your school career.”

Marinette smiled. “They did only retire last year,” she agreed with a nod. “Yes, I have met all of the Parisian heroes at least once,” she snorted at a stray thought. “In fact, I met Chat Noir quite a lot. You see, my old College was basically ground zero for a lot of akuma attacks. And by a lot, I mean a majority of them,” she shook her head before pausing to get everyone to cross a street. “After a while, Chat Noir started calling me ‘princess’ to make fun of how often he had to save me. He’s an annoying ass.”

Despite her words, everyone behind her could easily hear the fondness there. They all traded glances. What if this was a Lois and SuperMan situation? Regardless, they all had a suspicion that Marinette knew more about the heroes than she let on. Or, at least more about Chat Noir.

“When you say that your school was a hotspot for Akuma attacks,” Bruce spoke up cautiously, his Dad Senses going haywire. He didn’t like how nonchalantly she had said it— she was far too casual. Sure enough, he watched as the muscles between her shoulders stiffened slightly at the conversation change. “What do you mean? Surely it couldn’t have been that bad if the school is still around.”

Marinette sucked her teeth, grimacing. “The school is still there, yeah, but only because of Ladybug’s ability. You’ve heard about the Cure, right?” It was Tim who answered her;

“Yeah. It fixed the damage done during a fight, right?” He asked, tilting his head a little. Marinette ignored her brief thought that the gesture made him look like a curious puppy. She sighed.

“Yeah. But when they say damage, they mean everything. Injuries, collateral. Death,” she said the last example darkly, far too much weight behind the word for it to be meaningless. She heard Jason hiss in sympathy. “But there are good things. The Cure also erased anyone’s memories of dying besides the vague knowledge that it did happen, so there isn’t much trauma there to unpack. Not as much as there could have been anyway,” she assured them. “And I’m one of the lucky ones. I never died, and I was never Akumatized.”

“Hmph,” Damian’s voice cut through the brief silence that followed her admission. She looked back at him to see his sharp green eyes staring right into her. “You don’t honestly believe that’s lucky.” It wasn’t a question. Marinette clenched her jaw, turning around and ignoring him.

Because, no. It wasn’t luck. It wasn’t lucky that she was the only one that remembered everything— all of the deaths, all of the Akumatizations, everything that others mercifully forgot. Since she lived through all of it, she remembered all of it. And survivor’s guilt is nothing to scoff at.

But she wasn’t about to reveal her trauma, or at the very least the full scope of it, to people she had just met and was leading on a tour.

“If you look to the left, you’ll see a statue that was made depicting Ladybug and Chat Noir back during the first years of their activity,” she suddenly told them, gesturing to the still-standing statue. Nobody missed the obvious topic change, but nobody commented on it either. Turns out the statue was something they had been looking forward to seeing in person, Tim even went up to take a few photos with his camera. Barbara took a few circles around the statue, easily pivoting her wheelchair around it as if she was trying to see every angle and imperfection possible. Marinette couldn’t help but chuckle fondly at the sight.

“Your family are pretty big fans, huh?” She asked Cass and Duke, the only ones that had stayed back with her. Duke snorted, and Cass gave her a small grin.

“They like to keep up to date with all the heroes,” Duke answered with a shrug. “Since we’re so high profile, it isn’t weird for us to be saved by one here or there even when we’re away from Gotham.”

Marinette just gave him an odd look, furrowing her brows. “But the Miraculous team has been disbanded since HawkMoth was defeated,” she reminded them. “There’s no need for them to save anybody anymore.”

“Old habits,” Cass spoke up softly, her voice barely a whisper. Her eyes locked with Marinette’s. “Not easy to break.”

The smaller woman had a feeling that Cass wasn’t talking about her family’s habit of keeping up to date on heroes.

“Alright! We need to head to the next stop or we might not have time to see everything!”

The tour went pretty similarly. The walks between stops were pleasant, and filled with questions about the period of time where HawkMoth was active. Marinette wasn’t even the least bit surprised nor put off; everyone was curious about those years now that the tourism restriction was lifted and people could ask freely about it. Besides the many questions about the Heroes, Marinette found the group to be very pleasant company. They were polite, but also rowdy in a very endearing way. She caught a lot of inside jokes they had with each other, and a lot of good natured teasing and fighting. They even managed to rope her into it somehow, and she found herself snidely teasing Damian or casually threatening Tim with not allowing them a coffee break. She even got to ride on Jason’s shoulders for a bit after he made another comment on her height that she Did Not Appreciate. But the ride she got made it worth it.

But soon the sun was high in the sky, and it was about time for them to take a lunch break. They had all been walking for hours with only a few chances to rest, and honestly Marinette was impressed that none of them seemed too tired out by it.

“Alright,” she put her hands on her hips proudly. “Since some of you won’t stop whining about needing coffee or being hungry— Dick, don’t you dare buy anything from that vendor! I’m gonna lead you all to my parent’s bakery so we can have lunch and caffeinate all of you. And conveniently enough,” she smiled widely. “The bakery is right across the street from my old College! So you’ll be able to get a look at where the majority of Akuma attacks happened, and maybe I can tell you a few specific stories if you want,” she offered. There were a couple cheers (Tim and Dick) from the crowd and everyone seemed pretty pleased with the next step in their tour. Smiling, Marinette turned and began to lead them in the direction of her home.

Sirens blared, a fire truck zooming down the street next to them.

Headed in the same direction.

Marinette frowned, watching it go. “That’s weird. I hope everyone’s okay, whatever happened,” she mused idly. But as they kept going forward, the sirens didn’t get any softer. If anything, they started getting louder again after a while. Marinette was visibly concerned by then, her pace picking up. “This is my neighborhood,” she told the solemn group behind her. “I know everyone on this street—“ they rounded the corner, and Marinette stopped in her tracks. Her world ground to a halt.

There was the fire truck, stopped right in front of her bakery.

Which was completely ablaze.

A string of curses flew out of her mouth, the little Eurasian wasting no more time before sprinting towards the building. She could hear people yelling at her to wait, slow down, stop! But she ignored them. The only thing on her mind was that her home was on fire.

“Marinette! Wait!” Dick reached out to grab her arm, but like a snake Marinette easily slipped out of his grip and continued forward. Steph was next, deciding to just tackle Marinette— to no avail. The Parisian just shouldered the bigger woman off of her with pure adrenaline fueling her muscles, and everyone else knew by then that they could not stop her. The Wayne’s decided all they could do was jog behind Marinette, keeping her in sight as they tried to gauge the damage.

“The top floors don’t look like they have even been touched by the fire yet,” Tim whispered, though his eyes flew between the building and their tour guide. Marinette was speaking rapidly with a firefighter that wasn’t immediately busy, trying to get information. But before anyone could decipher what was said, Marinette tore a large strip off the bottom of her shirt and tied it in a hasty mask around her mouth.

“Wait!” Bruce was the first to realize what was happening, with his years of experience with self sacrificing children and their stupid stunts. But Marinette managed to kick him away before he could grab her, dashing into the inferno without paying any heed to the many protests that followed her.

The group of Gothamites could do nothing but watch the flaming building, then. If they went inside, it would only overcrowd a hazardous area. Minutes passed, and there was movement in the fire. Out of the doorway came Marinette and a firefighter, both having to work together to carry the body of a large man outside. The sight of the man made the Gotham family blink— he was as big as Bane! And that was nothing to scoff at. But despite his unusual size and muscle mass, the man had all the signs of being a normal civilian.

Marinette didn’t stop there. She ran back in. Coming out a lot more quickly this time with a barely conscious Asian woman— everyone saw the resemblance between her and this new woman immediately.

It had to be her mother.

“Shit,” Duke hissed. Nobody else could say a word. It wasn’t looking good, and this wasn’t a situation where random vigilantes showing up out of nowhere could actually help. Not this late into the fire. Bruce’s hands curled into fists.

The woman that everyone guessed was Marinette’s mother was suddenly struck by lucidity; she gasped and grabbed at Marinette’s hand without seeming to see who she was even talking to. A single word that none of the Waynes could hear left her throat, and judging by Marinette’s returning panic it hadn’t been good.

She rushed right back into the building, and came back out with the last firefighter who had been searching inside.

Marinette carried a child. She screamed out in panicked French;

“She’s not breathing! I need first aid now!”

That was their cue. The firefighters started their hoses, focusing on getting rid of the flames now that nobody was left inside the building. Bruce and Damian got to Marinette first, and this time she listened as they instructed her to set the child down. Damian, being smaller and having more hands-on medical knowledge, took charge of the resuscitation. Marinette sat there silently, eyes riveted to the small child— a girl.

But Marinette wasn’t reacting like a normal civilian to tragedy. She was eerily calm, eyes focused and barely concealing a terrible rage. She took over chest compressions when Damian started to lose momentum, not giving up.

But then the EMTs arrived, and it was only five minutes with the child hooked onto oxygen that the news arrived—

Marinette heard the monitors on the ambulance flatline before she even registered what people were trying to tell her. Manon. Manon was—

Marinette didn’t register Nadya Chammack at first. She was just another body in the quickly growing sea of them. That is, until she heard Nadya’s pained shriek. A mother who had just lost her baby girl.

“Perhaps we should head back,” Bruce offered softly, giving Marinette space but keeping a keen eye on her. He saw her begin to tremble, then shake. He was pretty sure he could hear the grinding of her teeth for a second before she went still. Just… all movement stopped, the tears that had been building just falling silently for a second before they ended.

And he recognized that carefully practiced emptiness in her bluebell eyes. The same emptiness he had seen in Damian’s eyes when he had first arrived at the Manor. The same emptiness he saw in Dick’s eyes in the days following his parent’s deaths.

The same emptiness he saw in the mirror, every time he had another nightmare about the day Jason had been taken from him, years ago.

Suddenly he could imagine all too well exactly what kind of strength she had to have, to avoid her negative emotions ever being used against her during Hawkmoth’s reign. Especially if she had constantly been dealing with her friends and family being Akumatized and/or dying on multiple occasions.

She didn’t even seem to have heard him. Bruce sighed.

“I called Chloe,” Barbara informed everyone solemnly, holding up her phone for emphasis. “She’ll be here in five.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Chloe hadn’t come alone. With her had been Adrien Agreste, former model when his father hadn’t been… well, in prison. Nowadays he was just a normal student who occasionally gave lectures on neglect and child abuse, and how to help children in those situations.

And, apparently, he was also Marinette’s closest friend. Even more so than Chloe. As soon as they arrived back at the Grand Paris, Chloe herded everyone up into her suite and she and Adrien surrounded Marinette with pillows and blankets. Adrien curled around Marinette like an affectionate cat, and Damien even swore he heard the guy purr at some point

“We should probably leave,” Bruce whispered to their hostess, who looked inbetween him and her friends for a moment before jerking her head towards the door.

“I wanna talk to you first,” Chloe whispered back. Once they all filed out into the hallway and the door was safely closed, Chloe took a breath. “First, I want to tell you that I got a call from the hospital. Marinette’s father is stable, but in a coma right now.”

“Is that the man who looked like he could bench press a car for fun?” Dick asked, earning a weak grin from the Bourgeois heiress.

“Yeah, that’s him. But…” Chloe’s face fell, and she looked around as if to double check nobody was eavesdropping. She still lowered her voice anyway. “Her mother, Sabine. She…” Chloe swallowed a lump in her throat, images of the extremely kind Chinese woman flashing through her mind without permission. “She didn’t make it.”

Several people took a sharp breath, acknowledging everything that had gone so wrong for Marinette on a day that had started so perfectly.

“The smoke?” Cass asked gently, but Chloe winced and shifted on her feet.

“No. They… there were rope marks on Sabine’s neck,” Chloe clenched her eyes shut at the admission. “Marinette’s dad might be big, but he’s not a fighter. Sabine, though… Sabine was. She was raised in a martial arts family back in China. I’ve seen Sabine take down five men at once, all twice her size,” Chloe kicked her lips, shaking her head in disbelief. “Somebody knew… somebody knew that the little Chinese woman was a threat but the big baker with tons of muscle was harmless.”

Nobody took that well. Not only had Marinette just lost her home and half of her family, but her father was in a coma and it had all been foul play.

“Okay,” Bruce nodded once the news had time to sink in. They could help with this; this was their specialty. They might have only known Marinette for six hours, but she had made a big impression. It wasn’t just anybody that could mesh with his family so seamlessly in that short span of time. “Is there anything else?”

“I want you to get temporary custody of her,” Chloe said it the way only Chloe Bourgeois could. With her back straight, chin high, and the tone of a woman who expected to be listened to or else she’d make life Hell for the person that didn’t take her seriously. Bruce could only blink.

“Can I ask for your reasoning?”

“Marinette has been closing herself off more and more over the years,” Chloe admitted. “Hawkmoth’s reign was hard on her. Only Adrien really knows everything she went through during those years. But even after the disbanding of the team, she hasn’t… she hasn’t allowed herself to get close to anybody new. That’s why I tricked her into doing your tour. She needed to socialize with new people, and if she wouldn’t do it herself then I had to pull some strings.”

A few eyebrows raised at the admission that Chloe had fully planned for Marinette to be their tour guide the whole time. It honestly seemed like the kind of well meaning manipulation that one of them would try to pull off.

“She likes you,” Chloe’s voice went soft again, showing how uncharacteristically serious she was about that fact. “She was comfortable enough to let you guys carry her back here. To let you try to help Manon. That might not seem like a big deal to you, but it says a lot to me and Adrien. And… getting her away from Paris for a while is probably a good idea. She was planning to go to Gotham for university anyway.”

The Waynes traded glances before Bruce crosses his arms and asked some more questions first. Doesn’t Marinette have other family? Answer; only her grandmother, who travels all the time and nobody ever knows where she is until she shows up. Bruce agreed that Gina Dupain didn’t exactly seem like a good candidate for Marinette’s new guardian with that description. But finally, to none of his children's surprise, he did end up agreeing.

“But,” he held up a single finger. “We’ll Wait here in Paris for a week, so that she can try to salvage everything she can from her house and so we can get an idea on how her father is doing. There’s still a chance he’ll come out of his coma fairly quickly. And of course, we will only go through with this if Marinette agrees when we ask her tomorrow.”

Chloe agreed to those terms, looking like a weight had been lifted off of her.

Chloe never cut corners when taking care of her hive. And if that meant making sure that her brave soldier bee could move on to start a new hive, one that was better equipped to take care of her, then Chloe would do everything she could to help that move. And really; Chloe was far more resourceful and observant than people gave her credit for. The butts definitely matched, and Bruce Wayne was her last hope to get Marinette the support she needed. Outside of Adrien, anyway.

Chloe took a breath, watching the Waynes trickle off into their own rooms. Marinette was like the little sister she never wanted, but grew to love more than anything. Though, Chloe knew she really chose Marinette as her sister the same way they both chose Adrien as their brother. She just didn’t want to admit she was sentimental like that. But Chloe knew that someone like Marinette needed a bigger family. More support.

She could only hope that Marinette and the Waynes grew to become family for her like she and Adrien had. Kwami knew that Marinette needed all the help she could get for the foreseeable future.

“You did good, my Queen.”

“I know, Pollen. Now we just have to find out who dared hurt my hive.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Dude this took so long to write, but I’m actually really proud of it. Probably gonna take this Maribat March a little differently than last year, and make a few longer stories by connecting some of the prompts together. Maybe each week will be a full story? Idk I’ll figure it out. I know I’m behind but I’m working on it.

I tried to keep the angst out, but it found it’s way in here anyway. Oh well!

#mlb x dc #ml x dc #maribat #maribat march 2021 #Maribat March 2k21 #platonic brucinette #found family #day 1 #Maribat March #day 1 found family #I was a little late but oh well

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kim-miyeon · 3 years

Text

Hell Above - Chapter Fifteen

PAIRINGS: Hwang Hyunjin X Female Reader

WARNINGS: Series contains mature content, read at your own discretion. Mafia!AU, explicit language, suggestive language, graphic scenes, weapons, mild abuse, angst, 18+.

WORD COUNT: 4.3K

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Everything’s Not Alright, and I Would Rather...

The day had come.

The roar of the vehicle drowned in your ears as you sat back and watched as the pedestrians walked by the hospital. You grew envious that you were unable to have such a normal life, one where you could walk so freely with common care and worry. The sun rays beamed on the car causing the temperature to surpass a well comfortable standard and you felt your anxiety churn in the pit of your stomach. He was coming for you and you were foolish to believe that a historial full of those suffering would allow him To pause in his conquest. You hung your head and sighed out, and felt a soft hand place itself on your thigh as you looked up worryingly to this man.

It was almost unfair. How in a life full of torture, deceit and pain, that there was someone so honest, so loving. Hyunjin had and would always be the light at every end of each tunnel you found yourself in. He will always be that comforting voice in your mind. The softest touch a human could ever have. And it was unfair because you couldn’t live a life of peace and harmony. You two will never be able to sleep restfully in each other’s arms without the worry of captive or murder at your corner. To live the way you had, hidden behind masks placed for the both of you caused nothing but pain. And at what cost? You feared since the day your grandfather decided that he and the network would move forward and deem it necessary for you to be killed, that you would never truly see this man again. You looked at Hyunjin, studied all of his features. How his skin almost resembled silk in the way it looked soft to the touch and had no imperfections. His mole that was kissed under his eye, and the sharpness of the angles in the way he was carved by angels. His eyes felt like two of the most precious stars caught from the galaxy and placed into his orbs. They drew you in and made you feel like everything around you was still. His lips… his lips that took you to paradise, how everything he did, brought you bliss. He was your safety net, your rock, your protector. And you never thought love at first sight was real, you had grown up to hate this man, but the moment you looked at him with your own two eyes, you felt static electricity run through your spine. You two had as would always be two hearts as one, two souls cut from the same strand. He had always been your other half.

And that’s what scares you. The unknown. Of the hours ahead, the plan that had been set in place. You remembered the discussion you had with Changbin when he introduced the bullet to you. The technology and the thought behind its ability to stun you and weaken the heartbeat but not enough force to kill you. You knew Hyunjin didn’t see your point of view and grew nervous for the safety of your unborn child.

“Here it is”

“So tell me, when Minho shoots it-“ You started and Changbin cut you off.

“It will break the skin, it will hurt, especially if he is rather close to you. I made this protection pad for you to wear..” Changbin handed to the padding and you eyed it a bit before he continued.

“This should help stop the force of the bullet from completely killing you”

“YAH!” Hyunjin yelled more as a warning to be careful with the words people used. He was on edge with the whole situation.

“Hyunjin it ‘s fine. It won’t kill me. We just need it to put me out for a few, make grandfather believe I am dead.” You looked at him before turning to Changbin, “Thank you Changbin.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw and left the room as you tried to grab on to his arm as he jerked you off.

“Hyunjin—“

You followed after him and you two were in the hallway when you called out his name again and grabbed him as he turned to you.

“This is ridiculous Y/N putting yourself at danger! Putting everything on the line like this. If he thinks you're dead, what difference does it make!?”

“He hid me from the world. He made me non existent. Do you know that you could have been dead years ago!? That’s why.” You retorted and Hyunjin sighed out in frustration.

“I’m playing the same game as him, Hyunjin. Making myself non existent. For me, for you…” You grabbed his hand and placed it over your stomach, “for our family.”

Hyunjin pulled you into a hug and held you tightly, like he was going to lose you .“I just can’t bear to think of something happens, if you-“

“Nothing will happen, I promise. I trust Minho. I trust the plan.”

“I’m going in.” You unbuckle your seat belt and looked at Hyunjin. He slid his hand over your cheek and behind your head as he pulled you into a kiss, one that felt so passionate, full of love, fear, lust. Like it was the last time you two would ever feel each other. His lips molding into yours like he was studying every soft line you had and memorizing the way you taste.

“Y/N” He whispered against your lips. It was so beautiful the way he said your name.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kissed him back before you made your way out of the car and to the hospital.

You took slow steps walking across the cream colored colored floor, mind lost in the daze as your heels clacking against the concrete were the only thing that could be heard. The smell of medicine and cleanliness around you and the overwhelming silence of it all as you approached Jeongin’s hospital room made you feel insane. Your skin was itching for some kind of crazy to happen, and you received nothing of the sort. As you approached the corner of the room you heard a not so pleasant sound. The sound of a laugh you were not expecting to hear in the hospital, one full of danger and suspense. You began to think to yourself the harm Jeongin could be in and how bold of a man your Grandfather was to show himself here, and at the same time you were not surprised. You took one deep breath in and walked into the hospital room and saw a frozen in place Jeongin sitting up on his bed. Your grandfather sat across him with his legs crossed, his eyes dark and evil, smile curved just enough to scare away those around him. He had his men in the room holding their assault rifles in clear view. All attention focused on you when you came into sight. There was no turning back now.

“Today is the day Y/N. I trust that you know what lies ahead of you” you grandfather spoke, head slowly turning to you as you squinted at him and clenched your jaw.

“I suppose it was foolish of me to believe that you wouldn’t come here to find me.” You responded back and he smiled at you.

“You and Jeongin...two peas in a pod. It’s a shame one of you has to go.” You looked over at Jeongin who was in complete fear, fast ghostly white. You grew anxious.

“If you have come to harm-“

“I do not wish to harm Jeongin any more than I have.”

You paused and you stepped forward and your grandfather’s soldiers raised their weapons at you and your grandfather raised his hand to calm them.

“I will let you have a moment to speak, then we will take you.” You grandfather stood up and you saw the small sling around his arm where you had inflicted your gun shot to. He walked towards you and you moved over to allow him and his men to step out of the room before you ran over to Jeongin’s side and began touching his face.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“Y/N.”

You checked for any and all signs of cuts and bruises on Jeongin’s body as he kept repeating your name softly. Your mind was so caught up in him that you didn’t hear him raise his voice at you. It was when he gripped your wrists tightly to have you stop when you looked into his eyes.

“I’m okay.”

You nodded softly and felt tears in your eyes and Jeongin shook his head to tell you not to cry.

“I’m scared Jeongin.” You whispered and he nodded.

“You’re going to be fine. Trust me.” You felt a single tear roll down your cheek and Jeongin pulled you into his arms for a hug, “I’ll see you on the other side.”

You pulled back from him and looked at Jeongin confused before you felt to large hands grip your arms tightly and began to pull you.

“No. LET GO OF ME.” You struggled to get free as you looked at Jeongin who smiled at you and waved sadly and you felt the pit of your stomach churn. “JEONGIN!”

Before you knew it you felt a padding of cloth come to your nose and you began to inhale. Your head grew light and your eyes got heavy as you felt all your weight drop and everything go black.

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

“They took her.” Hyunjin bursted into the office and Minho jolted up out of his seat as he turned to Felix who looked back at him.

“It’s time.” Minho said and Felix nodded and got up and grabbed his jacket.

“Let’s go fuck shit up.” Felix said and left the room, heading to go round up the other boys.

Hyunjin stood there across from Minho as Minho looked back at him.

“So we are really doing this?” Hyunjin asked and Minho nodded his head.

“Better late than never.” Minho scoffed to himself and Hyunjin nodded as they both left the room.

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

You felt your eyes start to pry open and you hissed when you saw the light of the room attack your sight. You squinted hard and saw a man standing in the room guarding the door watching you. You sat yourself up slowly and realized you in a bedroom, one that felt painfully familiar in an odd way. You saw the man grab something at his hip and raise it to his lips.

“She’s awake.”

You felt your blood run cold. The room was eerily old and filled with floating dust. You then noticed you were laying on a bed and you glanced around and took more in as the man kept speaking over his walkie.

“Bring her to the yard.” You over heard a voice say as you saw the man nod and you glanced over to the side table and noticed a photo of two people you knew.

Your parents.

Soon the man raised his weapon at you and you looked up at him sadly as he gripped your arm and you felt a slight pain on your wrists. You had been tied up with a plastic zip tie and it had rubbed against your skin so much you almost broke blood.

The man jerked you off the bed and placed his gun on your back and you made no sound, no sign of hesitation. You felt absolutely defeated and the war hadn’t even begun. You took a look at the room, your parents room. A place you hadn’t had the chance to truly embrace as home. This whole place you thought was supposed to be home. But it became grounds for evil. A place where the souls of your family are trapped forever.

“Let’s go.” The man pushed you towards the door and you compiled as you started to move.

The hallways were still covered in family portraits and decorations. The mansion had never been changed, had not been touched since the massacre. As you walked further and further you passed by the office, and you felt a piece of yourself grow light. Everything slowed down as you made your way past the room because you knew what had taken place.

The scenes of the events that had occurred flashed before your eyes. You could see your mother, tied to a chair, being beaten and tortured while your father watched in agony, screaming and begging for the men to stop. Your mother…. bleeding out, being stripped of her garments and abused. Your father watched as they placed the gun to her head and fired the last shot.

You saw your father cry. Losing hope and the love of his life, losing you. You felt his pain as you walked past. You felt everything like you never have before.

You walked down the stairs of the mansion and saw the dark beauty behind the way everything looked. It was a true shame, so much beauty and life sucked out of this home.

Once you made your way to the from door you saw another soldier standing by and looked at you unpleasantly. The soldier behind you pushed you into the other as the next one grabbed you and headed out to the front of the house. You looked ahead and saw your grandfather standing in the middle of the yard, almost ritualistically surrounded by men you knew only through photos. The network.

You were walked closer to your grandfather and then shoved to the ground as you tried to catch yourself with your hands tied. You felt the gravel of the ground damage your knees and scrape your hands and some of your face as you fell hard with a grunt. You heard your grandfather snicker to himself as he cleared his throat.

“I present to you all. The daughter of Lee Won Shik. LEE Y/N!”

You pushed yourself up off the ground and looked up at your grandfather as he spoke to the crowd.

“Y/N original mission was to infiltrate the Hwang family through their son, Hwang Hyunjin. A tactic we have all created together and implemented.”

You listened to this absurdity. Not only was your grandfather a monster but the whole network was behind him, that’s how his power never faded. There was so much corruption and evil around you that it made you afraid.

“Unfortunately, it seems that our very own has fallen deep into her work. She is now unfit to rule this family and has committed treason to us.”

You saw as the men who stood around you listened and you looked back up at your grandfather who smiled and continued.

“Lee Y/N is carrying the child of Hwang Hyunjin.”

Shocked responses from around you as you flared up at your grandfather broke the airy night. Your breathing grew heavy and you never broke eye contact with the man who stood before you. You knew the network would never turn on this man and you knew you were being tried.

“Lee Y/N, how do you plead?” Your grandfather smiled knowing that this was his most enjoyable event. He loathed you so much that the thought of your head on a plate was what got him here. You clenched your jaw and smiled back at him and laughed.

“Guilty.”

Your grandfather almost frowned to your answer, but scoffed. “Guilty, you heard the woman.”

He began to walk around you and look at the men around, “the Lee family has held its crown for decades, and we have ruled over all families. We will not allow a child stained with Hwang blood to succeed the throne of this business.”

You noticed lights ahead, lights belonging to a vehicle. Two then four then six… multiple cars approached and you felt okay knowing that Minho was close.. Hyunjin was close. The plan was about to be executed and the future was more clear for you.

The cars pulled up and you saw the reactions of everyone as they pulled their weapons up and aimed at the vehicles. The lights shining into your eyes cause you to look away and squinted as you heard the sound of the door opening and slamming shut.

“Stand down, everyone.” Your grandfather ordered and you heard the sound of weapons lowering.

“Lee Minho has come to complete his mission.” Your grandfather spoke and laughed, “He will execute the leader and take the crown as the new leader of the Lee Family.”

The lights of the car flashed off and you saw Minho in the dark, walking to you. His expression was full of rage and anger. You looked up at him as he looked down at you. In the back of his eyes you searched for a confirmation that the plan was in action and that his expressions were not drawn at you. But you found nothing, you couldn’t read him. His eyes were as black as the night sky and they held an incredible amount of hate. You felt yourself grow uneasy, you had trusted him. Surely he wasn’t going to pull the trigger on you, you trusted him to shoot you where it had been planned. You saw him inch towards you and he drew his weapon at you, aimed at your head.

“Minho..” you whispered.

“Now is the time Minho!” Your grandfather’s voice brought you back to the reality of the situation. You tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t real, Minhop wouldn’t dare to shoot you. But as you looked up at him, his gun aimed at your head, you weren’t so sure.

You thought back to the last conversation you had with Minho, and how in that moment you truly felt like this was a moment you weren’t supposed to question.

You peeked behind the wall at him as he stood in the middle of the night, looking up at the sky and sighing heavily to himself. You could feel his distress, his fear, his anxiety...all of it. It surrounded him as he kept digging a larger hole in his mind and you wondered what was going on. You wanted to speak to him, and you wanted to give him the space you knew he needed. But in the end it was ruined by you making a far too noticeable sound when you leaned against the door. Minho laughed a bit and turned his head softly as you grew embarrassed.

“ So you’re spying on me now, Y/N” He said softly and you cleared your throat as you walked closer to him and smiled.

“The boys said that you were out here, I just wanted to check in on you.” You said and Minho gleaned over at you and nodded.

“You guys are all counting on me but, I can’t do this Y/N '' Minho croaked out, almost chocking by tears and you looked at him in concern as he exhaled deeply.

“I keep playing it in my head, over and over again and I just…”

“Minho… don’t” You reached out your hand to touch his arm as he hung his head low.

“The first time he laid his hands on you...you were only seven.” You felt the guilt rise in him, everything that he was feeling that he kept deep inside was pouring out.

“I remember that day too well, I watched him take you to his chamber and I was so mad because I thought that you were getting a reward. I was so jealous and angry and then..”

You bit your lip at the memory, one that you try not to bring back to your mind, but Minho’s point of view made you realize that he had been struggling in a different way all these years.

“When I saw the bruises on your arms and face...I…” He paused and you saw him choke on the tears that were coming out without fail. You shook your head not wanting him to continue but he did anyways as you tried to comfort him.

“Y/N I didn’t want to get hurt the way you were, I thought if I ignored it, maybe one day it would go away. He would stop but..he didn’t.”

“ I know..”

“No, you don’t. I have failed to protect you for so long, and I have been against you for years. And now, I have to help you and I don’t know if I can. If I miss, if something happens, I’m responsible. What if you die?”

“I’m prepared to.” You spoke bluntly and Minho looked at you wide eyed, “I’m prepared to die, if it goes wrong.”

“But what about Hyunjin?”

You sighed, and reached into your back pocket and pulled out a note that you had been saving to give to Minho. “If I die, you give this to him.”

“I trust you Minho… I trust that you’re going to come and pull that trigger and you and I are going to change the world. I know it. I know I looked at you for years as the bad guy in my life, but you’re just as fucked up as me. We can’t fix that but we can evolve from it.” You said and he nodded at you and you sighed.

“I just don’t know what I would do if you got hurt, Y/N. I should of been there all these years-”

“So be there now. Be here for me now. Pull the trigger and help me.”

Minho glared at you and you felt tears starting to warm your eyes and your grandfather chuckled lowly.

“My oh my, what do we have here?”

“MINHO.” A loud yell came from behind and your eyes widened. What the fuck is he doing?”

You saw Hyunjin storm his way past the cars and saw his men trail behind him. You noticed Changbin, Jisung, and Chan as well as Seungmin and Felix behind with their weapons as Hyunjin kept approaching. Your mind went numb. This wasn’t the plan.

Minho never took his eyes off of you and he was incredibly still and locked on you. You felt your heartbeat quicken when you saw Hyunjin approach you two and then all weapons drew.

Hyunjin looked at you and you looked back in complete fear and confusion.

“Minho put your gun down.” Hyunjin ordered and you watched as he held his weapon at Minho.

“No.” Minho looked at you and you looked up at him. You were trying so hard to make sense of the situation. This wasn’t what you had discussed and what you agreed on. This was different. Something different was happening and you were lost. Everything felt wrong.

“Minho, what’s going on?” You whispered at him and you watched as he began to ease on the tension, somehow your words brought him back.

“Minho.. I’m fucking warning you…” Hyunjin held his gun and you looked at Hyunjin.

“HYUNJIN PUT YOUR GUN DOWN!” You screamed.

“NO Y/N, HE’S GOING TO KILL YOU.”

The pounding of your heart was in your ears as you looked at Hyunjin. He stood in front of you, gun pointed at Minho. His eyes were dark, like he craved this. You felt hazy, nothing in that moment felt real. Your knees grew sore from being in the gravel. You looked up to the side of you and saw Minho. His eyes, sad and hurting. You thought he would cry. But how could he in this moment. But the gun in his hand at you didn’t feel staged anymore. Nothing felt right. You were beginning to question your sanity. Had all of this been a lie? Were you once again fooled? Your grandfather’s claps interrupted your thought process as you turned to him as he chuckled.

“All three of you. In one vicinity. How delightful it is to see sucha scene, and how pathetic it is to see the son of Hyun-woo sacrificing his life yet again for a woman.” Hyunjin clenched his jaw as he looked at you and you stared back. He was hard to read, something that never was difficult before. He looked busy in his mind, thinking about something deeply. You turned to Minho and he looked down at you as you tried to read him. Blank. You felt your heartbeat quicken and the pit of your stomach felt light. Where were they? Why were they not with you?

“Since I have you three here, I might as well use this to my advantage.” your grandfather stepped closer and looked at Minho.

“Shoot her.”

“Don’t you dare.” Hyunjin growled.

“Shoot her Minho.”

“Minho I swear to god, don’t you dare pull that trigger.”

“No?” Your grandfather looked at Hyunjin and he smiled at him. “ Then you pull it Hyunjin. Pull yours.”

You looked at the scene and felt tears brim your eyes. Nothing felt right and this was not the plan. You looked to Hyunjin and then Minho. Minho began to shake and you pleaded with your eyes.

“I don’t care who pulls the trigger, it means nothing to me. One of you has to die anyways…”

Those words sent chills down your spine. No matter the outcome, your grandfather felt no remorse if anyone were to die. It was painful, but not shocking. He ordered the death of your family and has no sense of guilt for what he has done. You bit your lip and almost felt like the plan would have caused nothing but more anger and pain. So maybe you would be okay if Minho pulled the trigger. Maybe this was the best thing for everyone.

“You heard him Y/N.” Minho said softly and you looked at him in fear as he cocked his gun back and you saw the light escape his eyes, full blown rage.

“One of us has to die.”

You closed your eyes, letting a tear run down your cheek as you prepared mentally for the pain, for the sorrow. It ends here, you thought. This was for the best.

The last thing you heard was the sound of the gun firing it’s bullet, leaving you stunned, cold, and quiet.

A/N: SO sorry this came out late, you are all so eager and I was trying to type and proof between shifts :( Being an ADULT is hard, but anyways. We have reached the end. Next week is the last chapter. I could actually cry. As always let me know your thoughts and I will see you on the other side loves:)

Taglist: @hyunfeji @zenzedana @datura-inoxia @ninjaleeknow @beethiin @hyunsxle @hwangful @huntressfrost25 @exonations @p0t4t0don14ll @beaann @minaamhh

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