#no the fuck i hope not!! their relationship has consistently moved in a new direction each season

[nandermoenthusiast]

i dont think i will ever be over nandor tying guillermos cape with such care and focus. that moment its possibly my favourite from the finale NANDOR ACTS OF SERVICE GUY MAKES ME WANNA CLIMB A WALL and the way hes putting guillermo on equal ground now makes my heart grow 3 sizes

and to be honest i dont think they can go back to where they were before. for anyone whos worried. like yeah he told him “now clean up the body” after he reverted back to human but to me that was more like nandors brain going like. “i cooked now you clean”. he went through such a tremendous amount of work to help guillermo. he had the empathy to recognise the problem. he thought it through concocted a plan. he got the robes and the candles and he painted and hung those banners. he held a fakeass ceremony with all their friends and elders so it looked official. he then also comforted guillermo when he couldnt do it and staked derek himself without a second thought. so maybe its was more of a. i pulled you out of a very hairy situation. can you take care of the body now? (also it IS gonna be hard to let go of certain habits so maybe some comments like this are gonna slip out next season, but that is just because they are useless and in guillermos absence the house fucking imploded in one year lmao… maybe guillermo is gonna teach them how to take care of it themselves next season so they can split the workload and cute shenanigans will ensue)

i just dont think it was mean spirited on nandors part tbh. LAZLO even offered to help. i dont think that was just to have him in the next scene i dont think an unusual detail like that could be just for convenience. i do FULLY believe they are gonna all be on equal grounds next season. and thats gonna be so fucking delicious to me specifically

[deans-baby-momma]

Law & Love Chapter 15

Life was good. Hell, it was great! For the first time in over two fucking years,  things were actually looking up for Y/N.

Yea okay. She got laid, fucked ten ways to Sunday, bent into positions she couldn't ever describe but that's not all. She had a friend. 

A bona fide, genuine friend. So what if they knew what the other looked like naked, what the other tasted like, Cordell was proving to be an integral part of her life.

For a few weeks now, they have talked daily and texted numerous times a day. She listened to him as he told her about his trouble with his daughter, Stella, dating the neighbor and family nemesis boy; about his son, August, being on the fast track to be on the national honor society for their school.

She listened to him tell all about his brother Liam being in the running for some political office; not that she really paid attention to, because she knows from previous experience, politics can make or break any relationship. 

He heard about her monotonous and humdrum days at the diner; the most exciting thing being the gossip of the mayor's daughter getting pregnant by the town's degenerate and running off with him.

"Order up!" Pops announces as he sits a plate on the order shelf but Y/N’s mind is stuck on something Cordi said last night. 

Was he serious? Did he actually think it was a good idea? Was he just horny and needed a good fuck and knew I'd be willing?

"Maybe you just need to get away?" he had suggested. "New place, different scenery. You could come to Texas and visit."

The consistent dinging of the order bell pulls her from her recollections and she turns to look at Pops. "Sorry," she apologizes and grabs the order, walking away to deliver it.

As soon as she comes to consciousness,  she knows something is wrong. Before Y/N even opens her eyes, she can sense something is different. There is a silence around her, a stillness like never before.

She slowly lifts her eyelids and is met with complete and utter darkness, not a light in sight. She turns to look at the alarm clock and can't see anything; the usual red glowing numbers aren't there.

Y/N realizes quickly that the power is out. Grabbing her phone and turning it on, she notices that it is 4:45 am; that explains the darkness, the sun has yet to rise. 

She rolls back over and tries to go back to sleep but Cordell’s words begin ringing in her head again. “"Maybe you just need to get away?" New place, different scenery. You could come to Texas and visit." “I’d love to see you again Y/N. Introduce you to my family.”

As she lays there contemplating his suggestion, the sun rises and not long after her phone beeps with a message. 

‘Power’s out. Won’t be opening the diner until it’s restored. And since tomorrow we’re closed anyway, have a good weekend!’

It doesn't take Y/N long to decide what she’s going to do with her free time. She’s going to Austin. 

Opening up a travel app on the phone, she quickly finds a direct flight out of Helena Regional Airport, straight to Austin-Bergstrom. She enters her card info and waits for the confirmation before she makes my next move.

As soon as the email arrives with the information she is seeking, she texts Cordell.

‘Up for a visitor this weekend?’

‘Depends on who is visiting ;)’ 

‘Well, thanks to the storm I didn’t even know rolled through town, I have a couple of days off from the diner. Thought I’d take you up on your offer…..if it’s still legitimate :D’

‘It’s legit and open-ended. Come on down. What time does your flight get in?’

‘7.’

‘I’ll be at the airport waiting. Can’t wait to see you!’

‘Can’t wait to see you either…….and meet your kids.’

‘Oh. Shit! I hope this doesn’t dampen your spirit but it’s just going to be me here this time. Fam’s gone on the annual Walker Camping Expedition.’

‘Oh. Well, if you don’t mind me impeding on your alone time. Why didn’t you go with?’

‘You aren’t impending on anyone’s alone time. I had to stay back because we are close to getting some imperative evidence that’s needed to make an arrest. Cap told me I was going to have to pull out of the yearly trip.’

‘Oh. Well, guess I’ll see you at 7 roomie.’

‘See you at 7, darlin.,’

Packing for the trip is simple. A couple of outfits for the days she’s in Austin and her essentials. Y/N is packed and ready to go two hours before time to leave. She uses that time to shower and dress comfortably for the plane ride.

Knowing that the Walker family is out of town and it’s going to be just Cordell and herself in the house,Y/N  takes the time to shave everywhere and wash everything. She even gets the idea of the perfect outfit in her mind as she’s bathing. 

A cute little red and white striped sundress with spaghetti straps and a built-in bra. Y/N smiles mischievously as she decides to go bare under the skirt too. If Cordi gets too handsy, he’s going to be in for one hell of a surprise!

When the text comes through that her Uber has arrived, she grabs her bags and  purse and locks up before handing my luggage to the driver. Once she’s on her way, she grabs her phone and texts Cordell once more.

‘Just got in the car with a complete stranger, trusting them to take me to the airport and drop me off. If you don’t hear from me in an hour, send rescue. LOL’

‘Darlin’ that’s no laughing matter to a Ranger. Text me as soon as you get through security. Please. Be safe.’

‘My big Texan hero’ she adds an emoji with heart eyes to the end. 

The driver is quiet as they drive toward the airport and Y/N is thankful. How do you tell someone that you’re taking a 5 hour flight to Texas to hopefully get railed by a moose of a man with the cock to match. She’d probably look like a maniac….or a whore. 

As soon as the car pulls up to the drop off area, the driver stops the car and gets out to hand her her luggage. Y/N thanks with a sizable tip and turns to head into the airport. The terminal is busy but not bustling as she makes her way to the counter to pick up her ticket. 

Once through security and her bag has been checked and tagged and headed off to be loaded, she pulls her phone out and texts Cordell.

‘Safe and secure awaiting boarding call’

‘Good. See you soon.’

She doesn't even give another thought to the fact that only a thin piece of material separates her naked body from the others inside the building. She open a game on my phone and begin trying to beat the next level until her flight is called.

The flight from Helena to Austin is smooth and with no hiccups. A few minutes after 7 pm, Texas time, Y/N is walking down the boarding ramp, searching for baggage claim. She doesn’t even see Cordell standing there.

As she is watching for her luggage, a hand lands on her shoulder and she hears his voice.

“Excuse me Miss,” he says authoratively. “You look a bit lost. Do you need a guide?”

Y/N turns and looks up at the tall man behind her with a smile. “Why officer, that would be wonderful.”

They both laugh and then wrap their arms around each other and squeeze. “Good to see you again Y/N.”

“Same for you Gigantor,” Y/N giggles.

As soon as she gets her luggage, they take off toward Cordell’s truck to head to the Walker Family Ranch.

@spnbaby-67 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @deanwithscissors @raisinggray @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @brownbearhusky @purpleeclipseeggsland @kmc1989 @deans-spinster-witch @yvonneeeeeeee @tmb510 @globetrotter28

[minnieves]

wow, bj kamal has ended too. this is such a bittersweet moment isn't it? i hope that you liked this series. thank you for your love and support for him.

bj kamal part one, two, three, and four.

new to the bj series? see here for the guide.

warnings: filming, kai watching pornography, mentions of sex tapes, inner conflict, mild angst, and protected sex.

summary: you don't know whether to be happy that bj kamal is back, or be worried that you're starting to feel like kai is using you for your body.

"keep it down," kai whispered to your ear. hips rolling as he thrusts inside you. his movement slow, but consistent. "we don't want them hearing you, can't we?"

you nod your head as you lean your body weight towards him. hands placed in front of you. supporting yourself still. your eyes closed with your lips in between your teeth. feeling how kai is penetrating you from behind.

"i'm close," you whispered. barely audible, even to yourself. kai knew your body well now. feeling your breathing gets deeper. your chest heaving is seen from his height. he gave you a soft kiss on your temple. silently telling you to cum.

your orgasm came. not as intense as you needed it to be. helping yourself ride your own high. he pulled off from inside you. tying the condom as you wipe yourself down. exiting the cubicle as fast as possible.

you feel tired, this set up is draining you. it makes you feel as if kai is draining your feelings for him. that your idea of hyuka is not really who is when he's in a relationship. is this even a relationship? or did you read him wrong and he's not actually interested in you?

"y/n!" he called you from behind. you turn your head towards his direction, but not stopping. his attention seems suffocating. you craved it, but now that you have it, you no longer want it. "hey, do you want to check this new place out?"

he's only being nice to you because he's fucking you, you remind yourself. you look at the picture of the place he wanted to go to. he's so sweet to me, said a different side of you.

"i'll check my sched," you told him. your eyes glancing into his features. observing him as he blabber about this place. you can't understand anything, but it's breaking your heart.

"kai!" someone called him from behind both of you. making him turned first. your eyes still stuck to his face as you watch it brighten up. turning slowly to the new voice. who looks like the fucking sun, you thought.

you subconsciously supposed to grab kai's hand but he moved away from you. talking to her animatedly. the rejection made you feel like he's ashamed of you. she looked at you briefly with a smirk you knew you saw. you watch them as you see yourself get replaced, in front of your very self.

was she taunting you with her gaze? to make matters worst, kai used to like her. he talked about her day and night, until he just suddenly stop. you felt your gut hung low in your abdomen. easily making you feel sick as you read their actions more than you can understand their conversation.

you slowly walked backwards. not wanting to get the attention of either of them. speed walking to wherever your feet brings you as you try to hold your tears in.

you realised, that your curiosity is not out of just being curious. you wanted to know more of him because you love him. your brain bringing you back to the image of them. like a couple matched made in heaven.

"what have i done?" you asked yourself. sinking down your bathroom. your back sliding down the walls of it. your whimpers sounding intensified and much more pitiful inside here. "i love him," you said in disbelief.

you cover your mouth with both hands as you suppress your moans. not of pleasure, but if intense pain. the water from the shower hitting your skin. you felt dirty, or is this pity? making you lean your head back to the cold tile. eyes shut closed as you let the water feel like rain drops on your skin.

bj kamal is live...

you watch his live. laying on your stomach. your tablet propped beside you. your head resting on the side as you watch him. you've long finished crying, yet seeing him makes you want to cry again.

you decided to turn the live off. choosing to sleep instead. wrapping your blanket around you. as if it's warmth is the only thing making you feel comfortable.

"i'll watch something," he said. watching how the viewers were excited about whatever porn he'd be sharing. he shook his head with a smile. "oh, this is just for me."

he looked back at his comment section before playing the video. they can hear it, but they could only see him. his lips painted with a smirk as he watched how they were begging for even just a glimpse.

"our theme today would be that," he paused. head angling to the side. his index finger tapping his bare cheek qs if he was thinking. "you're a pervert, watching me masturbate."

his eyes screen the comments. listening to the conversation you had with him while making out. sighing as if he could still feel your touch on him. how your lips feel on his, how they burn his skin on their wake. the image he has of you making his cock twitch in his pants.

tongue darting out to wet his lips. palming himself through his pants. watching himself finger you. he clench and unclench his hand. as if he could feel you on his fingers still.

"pretty," he muttered. pulling his cock out from his sweatpants. spilling lube on his cock. watching you wrap your mouth around his cock. moaning as if he can really feel your mouth right now. "this is driving me insane."

he slowly pumps his cock. his grip varying from how deep you're taking him. hips humping his hand lightly as he watch you take his cock. he had his eyes closed in the video, but now he can see how you look at him. the sight of you making him moan.

"babe," he moaned. smiling at himself from how good he angled the camera. now watching his tip teasing your entrance. hand slowing down on his cock as he anticipates it too. groaning lowly in sync with the video.

he mimics his thrusts inside you. hand clenching around his cock like how he remembers you do. eyes closing as he throws his head back. your voice sings the loveliest tune for kamal. he can write so much songs for you.

"fuck, that's it whore," he said. sounding almost sarcastic as he watch you take him. smirking at how beautiful you look under him. how pleased his personal slut is acting under him. "you should see how pathetic you look right now."

"y/n," he mouthed. not moaning it. his lips just automatically mouthing your name sometimes. he pumps his cock faster now. spreading his legs wider as he fucks his hand. "fuck, my slut looks so good."

your voice echoed in his ear. his eyes opening lightly. curious to what his filthy viewers were telling him. how greedy they are for him. his hand moving slightly faster with every comment that pleases him.

he moved his chair to one side his thumb plat with his slit. hissing at the sensitivity. eyes closing to imagine your mouth wrapped around his cock. the image of your parted lips while you kneel in front of him tipping him over the edge.

his body tilting forward. from the side it looks like he's cuming on someone's mouth. his lips parted ah he controls his breathing. he's obsessed with the idea of your face covered with streaks of his cum. the image of your body painted with cum made him let out a low moan. sounding pained midst of pleasure.

"you're still here?" he asked. head tilted to look front. his eyes looking at the camera while his head is not moving upwards. it makes him look cynical. "what a fucking pervert."

his voice made your spine shiver. the look from his live and the smile that hyuka is giving you cannot be from the same person. he smiles at you ecstatically as he explains each flower that he got for you. what they meant, but you couldn't care.

your heart is far to broken right now to be mended with flowers. you already went into a spiral of what's new, and where could he take this relationship with. you decided that you can't continue being a quick fuck.

you walk towards him. hyuka looking at you while his heart is pounding in his chest. did you understood what he meant? you crouched down his level. giving him the most passionate kiss your soul can ever bore. wanting to end it on a light note.

"y/n," he smiled when you parted. glossy eyes looking at you. similar to when someone looks at someone they love, but your head tells you that you read him wrong. "i just..." he was cut off.

"let's end this," you told him. standing quickly and walking away even quicker. not bothering to look back. you wished that would call your name. then you'd turn back because you feel wanted. he didn't, nor did you turn. walking past strangers as you keep it in. walking into your next class as your eyes brimmed with tears.

hyuka sat there. if it was possible for someone could see how much their heart was broken. he was sure that he'd be surrounded by it. not by shards of his heart, but it's powder. he couldn't bring himself to cry.

he didn't even realised that he was knocking in taehyun's room until he saw his face. the other equally shocked to see him. then, he felt his tears flow. the other man hugging him, while pulling him in.

"it went wrong?" taehyun asked the crying kai. only to be answered with louder cries. he closed his eyes as he thinks of ways to calm his friend down.

"y/n," hyuka started. looking down as he feels his tears flow. "y/n, doesn't want me."

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Part Two)

Series: Undercover Hotch fic/series™

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader 

Word Count: 4,408 | Rated: T | Warnings: swearing, discussion of domestic abuse, possibly compromising positions(?), an almost kiss

Tropes: bedsharing, fake married, mutual pining

Chapter Summary: after holding hotch's hand for a few minutes, it wouldn't be a problem to hold it for most of the morning? because now the retreat gimmicks begin as the two of you search for information while dealing with the events.

A/N: sorry for the delay on part two -- had some family things going on this month <3. look out for part three :) Thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera for always letting me bounce ideas off of her and generally being amazing.

“Where do we start?”

The retreat lodge was larger than you imagined — with sprawling grounds that weren't just limited to the main lodging area where the couples stayed — but extended beyond to woods, hiking trails, and beyond. Hell, you glanced out the window at a nearby mountain, you wouldn’t be surprised if they owned a mountain as well.

“I have no idea,” you murmur, your arm intertwined with Hotch’s, as the two of you stepped into the lobby for the patented mix-and-mingle with the other couples before breakfast. Not only mind-numbing, soul-churning mingling — but with other couples with marital issues -- exactly what every vacation needs, “this place doesn’t seem big on technology — I haven’t seen a single computer or cellphone,”

“The front desk only has paper logs,” he shakes his head, “I asked about the lack of technology in the rooms. A noted policy of no tech — including the employees. I don’t think we are even allowed our cellphones after this breakfast.”

You scan the couples beginning to shuffle down now, “If there’s no tech here, where do you think they keep their guest and employee files?”

“I don’t think breakfast is ready yet, sweetheart,” he replies, as your gaze snaps to his cheeks burning, as you realize a couple approaching your six, “but I’m sure you won’t have to wait too much longer,”

“I’m right there with you,” the husband winks at you, his stomach shaking as he laughs even before he jokes, “if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to lose one of my only reasons for coming to this place,”

And something tells you it isn’t much of a joke either.

“But not the reason for coming here, isn’t that right, dear?” his wife assumedly smiles at you, icily, “Molly Chapman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and you are?”

You introduce yourself, forcing a straight face on as you manage to say your alias, offering your hand, “This is my husband, Thomas,” as Hotch introduces himself to Molly’s husband, Harry, who claps your boss on the shoulder.

“So,” Harry leans in, almost clandestinely, “what are you two in for?”

“Harry!” Molly chastises him, but her eyes hook onto your expressions, her lips pursed in disapproval if only to hide her smile.

“Well, if it helps, me and the missus here need some help communicating,” he crosses his arms, shaking his head, “never learned much about that growing up,” and he elbows Hotch, “but I’m sure you can relate — we’re practically in the same generation,” And you nearly snort, trying and failing to hide your smile — which Hotch notes, as you see him shoot a small glare your way.

Harry and Molly don’t notice, too busy reprimanding her husband again, before she sighs, pinching at the bridge of her nose, “It’s just as well, we are all going to find out about each other’s problems anyway,”

And you furrow your brow, “I saw group therapy on the itinerary — is it mandatory?”

“It is,” Molly nods, “Dr. Rosen, the therapist who helped design the program, insisted on it — otherwise it would just be a vacation, not a couples retreat,” and she raises an eyebrow, “didn’t you read that in the paperwork when you signed up?”

“I did most of the paperwork,” Hotch intercedes, his fingers intertwining with yours, “my love here was busy wrapping up some loose ends for work so I ended up taking the lead on it,”

“Oh well now I know what’s wrong with you two,” Harry chuckles, as Molly elbows him again, half-heartedly, as he gestures to you, coffee in hand, “you wear the pants in the relationship, got that one wrapped around your finger, now don’t you? Not surprising, with the age gap and all--” as he looks you up and down, winking at Hotch, as you gape at him, “nicely done, sir.”

Your blood begins to boil, several insults picked out and fine-tuned on your tongue as you open your mouth, “Well—”

“We’re working on it,” Hotch clears his throat, jerking his head toward the now ready breakfast buffet, “Harry, it looks like—”

“Food’s on!” and he’s scurrying away to the table, as his wife follows suit, giving both of you a nod, as you glare at his retreating back.

“Food fucking saved his life,” and your eyes slide back to Hotch, as he gestures for you to head over to the breakfast table, “and so did you,”

“Well, I figured you murdering someone on our first day here would attract some unwelcome attention,” he steers you away from the direction of the Chapmans, his hand now slipping around your waist, and you do your best to ignore the flip of your heart, focusing on the fancy finger foods the retreat put out for breakfast, until you feel Hotch’s fingers drum on the small of your back, “do you see that?”

You glance at him, following his gaze until your eyes fall on a door that says ‘Employees’ Only’ around the corner, the manager slipping through the door, locking it behind him. You glance away nonchalantly, helping yourself to some mini-breakfast sandwiches and some fruit, “Do you think they keep the employee files?”

“Maybe,” he breathes in your ear, as he reaches over your shoulder to grab some food, making you shiver at the closeness, “but how do we—”

“Welcome!” a voice booms from the foyer, sweeping arms as he steps forward cutting through the dining room, “Please everyone take a seat. Help yourself to some breakfast.”

You both make your way to a table, and Hotch pulls out your chair for you, giving a small smile, as he takes his seat beside you.

“I hope you all are beginning to get to know each other, but that is not all you will be getting to know today,” he clasps his hands, he bared his teeth with his fake white smile, “I am Richard Rosen, and I will be guiding you through your time during this six-week retreat, where you are not only going to learn about our facilities, about mindfulness, and about yourselves,” his eyes scan the crowd smiling, “you’re going to learn about each other.'

Oh, how wonderful.

You had read up about this guy last night — went to Harvard — Harvard College in Indiana, and got his certification in Psychology after four weeks of surely intense training. After that, he opened his own practice in New York City, which folded after several complaints ranging from sexual harassment to fraud. Unfortunately for his clients (and fortunately for him), there wasn’t enough evidence to get his lack-luster certification yanked. He then moved from city to city, learning from his mistakes, and never stuck to the same city for long enough for someone to catch onto his treatment packaged charade. Until eventually, he settled upon White Mountains Retreat, where he was allowed to stay in one place, but with a revolving door of patients.

He was one of your suspects — no record, but had easy access to the couples, and intimate knowledge of their relationships.

"But our time will begin together tomorrow,” he beams at all of you, “Right now, I'm going to pass it over to the man who you will be coordinating your incredibly list of daily activities during your stay here — the man responsible for all the wonderful memories you will make — Mr. Brock Hillen," Rosen steps aside, welcoming Hillen to take over, and he doesn’t wait a beat, checking his watch before disappearing down a hall.

“Where’d he go?” you murmur, and Hotch shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” Hotch murmurs, lips barely moving, “but do you see that?”

And you spot cuts on Brock’s arms before he tugs the sleeve of his shirt down to cover it, “Could be consistent with causing those injuries our victims,”

And Brock Hillen was no less suspicious than Rosen — with a criminal record to match. With two charges of domestic assault, Hillen already had a history of violence with his ex-wife, but since she divorced him, he has had no other charges. Yet, because of his record, he went job to job, until he found himself as the Activities Coordinator of White Mountain. Could it be that his rage over his wife leaving him led to the murders? Maybe something in the last few weeks that triggered it.

“Hello all!” he greets, holding his arms out, his fake blonde hair nearly blinding under the bright light of the chandelier that hangs above him, “thank you Richard, for that all too kind introduction,” he begins his spheal on the healing nature of the resort, the efforts of his team in coordinating the next six weeks for them, and you begin to lose interest around his third sentence with the word “enchant” in it.

And your eyes can’t help but slide to Hotch a moment, whose arm rests on your lower back still, the metal of his watch gently pressed against your shirt, and you swear his thumb brushes against your spine. You almost want to brush it away, his touch is so gentle, so sweet, so intentional, but it wasn’t — it wasn’t.

“For our first event,” and now you’re blinking back to Brock — to the reason you were here — to catch a killer, “I’m going to have you do one of the very things that Richard mentioned — an activity that will allow you to you learn more about yourselves and each other,” and he gestures around you, “as well as the grounds themselves,” Other employees start handing the couples a clipboard, “your task will be to get each of your stamps from around the retreat — this obviously includes our grounds and other facilities, including our spa, chapel, gardens, and so on.”

“Seems like a perfect opportunity to look around,” you murmur — as Hotch takes the clipboard, flipping through the scavenger hunt -- at least there wasn’t some cheesy shtick to this activity.

“To symbolize the journey you all will be embarking on together as couples, you must complete the task hand-in-hand,” Brock brings his two hands together, “please, there will be staff all over the facilities, if you need a hint, feel free to ask, and I will be here as well to provide any assistance,” he gestures to employees behind the couples, “now, at the sound of the gong—”

At the sound of the what—

And then a loud crash fills the air, rattling your eardrums, making you jump, “Take each other’s hand, and begin!”

Couples begin scattering about, pulling each other along — you spot Molly dragging Harry away from the breakfast table.

And Hotch rises beside you, offering you his hand, clipboard in his other hand, “Ready?”

You glance from him to his hand.

Probably not, but— your fingers intertwine with his, his calloused fingers warm, and the cool metal of his band brushing against your skin—

“Ready.”

What other choice did you have?

~~~

“How many more do we have?” So far, the first few stamps have taken you all around the other facilities — the spa, the garden, the sauna — but none inside the retreat center itself. Not a single one had given you a change to find where the files were kept in this place.

“Two more left,” he murmurs, “I assume the last one will take us back into the main building, so the other must be—”

“At the chapel,” you glance at the map of the place you were handed by an employee who took pity on you two after you had wandered around the grounds — completely lost, “at least we don’t have to bother figuring out the riddles now,”

“You mean you don’t need to bother,” you shake your head, “i’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Are you okay?” he asks, as the two of you stroll towards the chapel, everyone else out of earshot, “the first day can be—”

“No, it’s not that,” you look around the grounds, and you resist the urge to flex your fingers, but he notices you tense — and you know he would drop your hand but he can’t, so he steps away a little, “It’s not you—”

“But it’s you?” he chuckles, as you bite your lip, “I know it’s a lot,” he sighs, as you two reach the chapel, a relatively small building built on top of a hill. It’s a white marble building, its one spire splitting the sky above it asunder, practically gleaming in the sunlight. The double mahogany doors are drawn open for the couples, another just leaving as you two arrive. You watch him stare up at the chapel, “it is for me too.”

You frown, as the employees at the entrance greet you, and direct you to sit near the front together for a few minutes — to take solace in the quiet before you receive your stamp. Hotch hands them the clipboard as you both wander down the aisle together.

The aisles are lined with white pews, light streaming through beautiful stained glass windows. Your footsteps echoed against the stone floor. You step and sit into the pew beside Hotch, sitting back a moment. The chapel itself had no denomination — it was clear it was made for the sake of religious and non-religious functions — likely an intentional choice not to exclude any religion or atheists for that matter.

After all, money was money in their eyes.

You two are quiet a moment, your hands still interlaced for the sake of the employees still watching the two of you, “I think for me,” your voice low, “it’s just weird to be this close with anyone,”

“You mean physically or?” you shrug.

“It’s part of it — it has been a while since I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you purse your lips, “but like you said, it’s hard for me to let someone see me, like all of me,” and you glance at him, “and it’s hard when you’re literally the leader of a team of, you know.”

“I know,” he leans against the back of the pew, “it’s impossible to hide things from the team even when when we don’t spend every minute with them, and now that we’re spending the all of the next six weeks together--”

“There won’t be much we can do to hide,” you nod, looking down at the floor.

And that was what scared you the most.

The employees hand you back the clipboard at that moment, excusing you both back, and the two of you step out of the chapel, “I just want you to know,” you say, as the two of you reach the bottom of the hill, “you don’t have to hide anything from me,” and he raises an eyebrow, as you add, “if you don’t want to.”

“Do most people hide anything because they really want to?”

“No I meant,” you chew your lip, “This is probably hard for you, and I don’t want to act like I know what you’re going through — I don’t,” you would never deign to think you knew what it was like to lose your the love of your life, your best friend, and mother of your child in one fell swoop, “but you don’t have to pretend,” not with me, you want to add, but you don’t — you can’t.

He blinks a moment, eyebrows raising only for a millisecond, before he sighs, “It’s easier to pretend,” he presses his lips together, as another couple approaches, “and that’s what we’re here to do,” and he begins to walk forward, gently pulling you along, as your cheeks burn, your head fixed on the ground, until he adds, “but I appreciate it,” and you meet his gaze, several emotions in his eyes, before he tears it away, “thank you.”

You don’t get to respond, as the two of you step inside to find only most of the couples still hadn’t returned yet — still collecting the last of the stamps, and most of the staff floating around the grounds to corral and nudge stragglers along. And their absence left an opportunity.

So you glance around, before tugging a distracted Hotch along, wandering around a corner, “What—”

And you grab him by the shoulder, pinning him to the wall, cheeks burning all the while, not daring to meet his gaze, but its just the same because you hear the small gasp of your name that leaves his lips in a whisper, and his body tenses against your palm.

You lean up closer, before slowly craning your neck around the corner, “We’re a couple at a retreat looking to sneak away,” you murmur, lips barely moving, as you lean closer, nose brushing his neck — god he smells good — but you refuse to let your lips brush against his skin, “or that’s what it will look like to anyone.”

His tenseness melts away, and he’s pliable to your touch, as your fingers graze his neck now, your thumb resting against his cheek, as he stares down at you — so adoringly as you tug him by the shirt away from the wall, following you with such ease.

You’re next to the employees only door — your fingers reach for the knob, turning — “It’s locked,” you murmur, and his brow furrows, as you cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to the lock.

And he’s spinning you around gently so that you’re pressed to the wall, your breath catching in your throat, as he looms over you, his fingers cupping your chin. His arm around your back, pulling your lower half close to him, but he’s holding the door knob in place while he tries to pick it with his other hand.

Your cheeks burn as he looks down on you, his gaze freezing you in place, far too close — his breath warming your lips, taking the breath from your lungs and replacing your blood with lava. And you can see so clearly — the cut of his jaw, the soft lines of his face, and the curve of his lips—

And then the lock clicks open.

He’s turning the knob, as you spare one glance over your shoulder to see if anyone sees either of you, but then the door is shutting behind you. You feel the wall for a light switch, and you flick it on, while you hear the click of the door locking again.

And you blink, a glorified break room — a few tables and a basic refrigerator stuck in the corner, a worn couch stuck against a wall, and a sink stuck in the corner with a subpar dish rack — far from the accolades that were in each guest’s room — but then again, the employees weren’t paying through the nose for the rooms.

You two stay close, as your eyes scan for anything that could be a camera — even one that isn’t obvious — placed in a smoke detector or lamp shade, “No cameras,” he pulls away, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat, tucking away the embarrassment to dwell on another time (likely right before when you’re trying to sleep).

But then again, the guests weren’t the ones working 18 hour shifts on their feet.

Hotch calls for you, pointing towards a few file drawers stuck in the corner, and the two of you head over, running your finger down the label on the drawers, “These are all client records — administrative, financial — nothing on the employees.”

“They must keep the employee records somewhere else that employees don’t have access to,” and you’re rifling through the folders, for something — anything.

“I haven’t seen any other employee areas,” you shut the drawers, and then you glance around, your eyes falling on another door in the corner of the room — “unless—”

“It must be Rosen and Hillen’s offices,” you walk over, reading the placard — Administration Offices, “locked?”

“This isn’t something that can be picked easily,” Hotch shakes his head, “it has a bump guard — it prevents—”

“--lock bumping,” and Hotch looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you my reason if you you tell me yours,

He snorts, “I learned it sometime between 6th grade and military school,” and it’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, “my father — he—”

“You don’t have to—” you shake your head, “unless you want to—”

“I’ll just say, it wasn’t a good childhood,” he raises to his feet.

And you can’t help but give a small smile, “But look at how well you turned out,” and he’s shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Hotch,” you make him meet your gaze, “you’re a good man — don’t doubt that.”

His eyes meet yours again, warm, as he looks away to the floor for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching, “Thank you,” he breathes, and he’s stepping forward, “I—”

And then the doorknob is jiggling. Your heads snap to the door, before looking back to each other.

Shit.

Before you know it, his wrist is around yours, and he’s tugging you to the couch, as you fall backwards onto the soft cushions. He’s halfway kneeling between your legs, his body draped over you, and he’s leaning closer, murmuring an apology as he lips draw close to yours, “Hotch—”

And then the door is opening, as his lips nearly brush yours, “Hey!”

An employee stares at the both of you, as you both stumble to your feet, adjusting your clothes, “This is employees only — what are you—”

“Sorry!” you yelp, jumping to your feet, “so sorry,” and you brush past them, Hotch following at your heels.

And the two of you find your way back to the lobby, your heart still in your throat, as you tug on your clothes, “Thanks for the —” your cheeks burn, “I mean, good thinking—” you shake your head, "you know what I mean."

He snorts, his fingers finding yours again, giving them a slight squeeze, "Anytime," and your heart oh-so-helpfully skips a beat, tongue-tied, but luckily you don't have to response as Hotch glances at you, "you never did tell me how you learned about lock picking."

You shrug, “I have a checkered past,”

“That’s not much of an answer,” and you shoot him a half-smile.

“I have to keep you interested somehow don’t I?” you reply right as Brock begins to speak again.

The event wraps up with another talk from Brock — who has an employee approach him towards the end of his talk, whispering in his ear, and he nods, waving him off, “and one last thing — I know you all came to rejuvenate your marriages and partnerships through this retreat and we fully encourage you to do so but—” you swallow thickly, realizing just which employee must have whispered in his ear right then, “please refrain from doing so in restricted areas that are not for our guests.”

You cannot even bear to look at Hotch, keeping your gaze straight ahead, grabbing a drink on the tray, and sipping at it — and you wondered if you were masking your mortification well.

Probably fucking not.

~~~

Brock then adjourns them for the rest of the day — not wanting to “overwhelm them” on day one (or rather padding their time here with nothingness) — welcoming them to have their meal in the dining facilities or up in the rooms.

Most people head off to their rooms, while others linger in the lobby �� chatting amongst themselves — he spots Harry rushing off to the dining facilities, his wife in tow.

The rest of the day goes off without much to-do. Hotch glances around — not a single thing of note learned about the guests or the staff. The other couples are all sociable to some extent — some more reserved than others, but none of them fit the unsub’s types so far — placing you two directly in the paths of the unsub.

By the time it’s time for bed, his body is aching for nothing but sleep — and it looked like you had the same idea. Already slipped under the covers, you’re curled up, half-asleep as your eyes flutter heavy with sleep.

Neither of you felt the need to stand guard in the room — the doors were securely locked for each of the couples, and the team was monitoring the situation at the local precinct. But you both kept your weapons close by — concealed in case someone happened to find their way in.

“Are you asleep?” Hotch whispers, and you mumble, shaking your head, turning to glance at him — your shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

“Is something going on?”

And he shakes his head, “No, sorry,” and you relax back in bed, but your lips still pursed, “I just hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier,” and you tilt your head — and he almost smiles at your sleep-induced confusion.

“Earlier?” and then it floods back to you — as you blink, glancing away from him, “oh—”

He shakes his head, “I just don’t want you to think I was—”

“Hotch, I know you weren’t,” you slowly sit up, “if you hadn’t done that, I think we would have been on our way home on our first day,” you chuckle, “and I know you wouldn’t take advantage — especially when we have a job to do.”

Right, a job, he chides himself, It was a job.

“If you want to sleep—”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” you yawn, turning around and getting comfortable again, “good night, Hotch.”

And he looks at you, a small sigh parting his lips — until he finally settles in bed beside you.

His arm resting across his forehead, he glances at you again. He had spent so much of today holding your hand, his fingers nearly flexing at the memory. It had been so long since he had held someone’s hand, so long since he had worn a ring on his finger, so long since he called someone his partner.

It felt so nice.

Nice — not only because he hadn’t realized how much he had missed having someone, someone beside him, someone there — but because —

Because it was you.

And he knew that because — he didn’t want to let go of your hand.

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x11 thoughts

For an episode that ends with a journalist Ted trusts but has (understandably) recently lied to warning Ted that he’s publishing an article about his panic attacks, it was fitting that this episode seemed entirely about what all of these characters choose to tell each other. And after most of a season of television that Jason Sudeikis has described as the season in which the characters go into their little caves to deal with things on their own, it turns out they are finally able to tell each other quite a lot.

Which is good because, um, wow, a lot is going to happen in the season finale of this show!

Thoughts on the things people tell each other behind the cut!

Roy and Keeley. I absolutely loved the moment during their photoshoot in which they bring up a lot of complicated emotional things and are clearly gutted (“gutted”? Who am I? A GBBO contestant who forgot to turn the oven on?) by what they’ve heard. We already know that Keeley and Roy are great at the kinds of moments they have before the shoot begins, in which Roy builds Keeley up and tells her she’s fucking amazing. From nearly the beginning of their relationship, they’ve supported each other and been each other’s biggest fans. But their relationship has gone on long enough that they’ve progressed from tentative arguments about space and individual needs into really needing to figure out what they mean to each other and how big their feelings are and what that means in relation to everything else. Watching these two confess about the uncomfortable kiss with Nate, the unexpectedly long conversation with Phoebe’s teacher, and—most painfully—the revelation that Jamie still loves Keeley didn’t feel like watching two people who are about to break up. (Although I could see them potentially needing space from each other to get clarity.) It felt like watching two people realize just how much they’d lose if they lost each other, which is an understandably scary feeling even—or especially—when you’re deeply in love but not entirely sure what the future holds. Not entirely sure what you’re capable of when you’ve never felt serious about someone in quite this way, and are realizing you have to take intentional actions to choose that relationship every single day. I’m excited to learn whether Roy and Keeley decide they need to solidify their relationship more (not necessarily an engagement, but maybe moving in together or making sure they’re both comfortable referring to the other as partner and telling people they’re in a committed relationship) or if things go in a different direction for a while.

Sharon and Ted. I’ve had this feeling of “Wow, Ted is going to feel so intense about how honest he’s been with Sharon and is going to end up getting really attached and transfer a lot of emotions onto the connection they have and that is stressful no matter how beneficial it has been for him to finally get therapy!” for a while now. And Sharon’s departure really brought that out and it was indeed stressful. But the amount of growth that’s happened for both of these characters is really stunningly and beautifully conveyed in this episode. Ted is genuinely angry she left without saying goodbye, and he doesn’t bury it some place deep inside him where it will fester for the next thirty years. He expresses his anger. (I also noticed he sweared—mildly—in front of her again, which is really a big tell for how much he has let his carefully-constructed persona relax around her.) He reads her letter even though he said he wasn’t going to, and he’s moved. I don’t think Ted has the words for his connection to Sharon beyond “we had a breakthrough,” but Sharon gets it, and is able to firmly assert a professional boundary by articulating her side of that breakthrough as an experience that has made her a better therapist. And is still able to offer Ted a different kind of closure by suggesting they go out before her train leaves. No matter how you feel about a patient/football manager seeing their therapist/team psychologist colleague socially, I appreciated this story because IMO it didn’t cross big lines but instead was about one final moment in this arc in which both Ted and Sharon saw each other clearly and modeled what it is to give someone what they need and to expect honesty and communication from them. I liked that Ted ends up being the one saying goodbye. (The mustache in the exclamation points!) I like that whether or not Sharon returns in any capacity (Sarah Niles is so wonderful that I hope she does, but I’m not sure), the goodbye these characters forge for themselves here is neither abandonment nor a new, more complicated invitation. It’s the end of a meaningful era, and although the work of healing is the work of a lifetime, it’s very beautiful to have this milestone.

Ted and Rebecca. So, maybe it’s just me, but it kinda feels like these two have a few li’l life things to catch up on?! (HAHHHHHaSdafgsdasdf!) I really adored their interactions in this episode. I maintain that Biscuits With The Boss has been happening this whole time (even when Ted’s apartment was in shambles, there’s biscuit evidence, and I feel like we’ve been seeing the biscuit boxes in Rebecca’s office pretty regularly too), even if it might have been more of a drive-by biscuit drop-off/feelings avoidance ritual. It was really lovely to see Ted on more even footing in Rebecca’s office, joking around until she tells him to shut up, just like the old days. And GOSH—for their 1x9 interaction in Ted’s office to be paralleled in this episode and for Ted to explicitly make note of the parallel in a way Rebecca hears and sees and understands?! MY HEART. In both of Rebecca’s confessions, she is not bringing good news but it is good and meaningful that she chooses to share with Ted. In both situations, Ted takes the moment in stride and offers acceptance equivalent to the gravity of what she has to confess. And in both situations, he’s not some kind of otherworldly saint, able to accept Rebecca no matter what because he’s unaffected by what she shares. He is affected. When he tells her about Sam, you can see a variety of emotions on his face. Rebecca is upset and Ted is calm, and even if I might have liked for him to try to talk about the risk the affair poses to the power dynamics on the team or any number of factors, I also really liked that he just accepts where she is, and—most importantly—does not offer her advice beyond examining herself and taking her own advice. A massive part of being in a relationship with another person (a close relationship of any nature) is figuring out how to support that person without necessarily having to be happy about every single thing they do. It’s so important that Ted connects what she’s just told him about Sam back to what she told him last season about her plot with the club. These both feel like truth bombs to him, and he is at least safe enough to make that clear. These are both things that impact him, things that shape how he sees her and maybe even how he sees himself. He cares about her and is capable of taking in this information; he has room for it. But it’s not something he takes lightly, and neither does she. See you next year.

Tumblr user chainofclovers and the TV show Ted Lasso. My brain is going wild thinking about all the ways the next “truth bomb” conversation could go in 3x11 or whatever. Maybe they go full consistent parallel and Rebecca confesses something else, this time about her and Ted or some other big future thing that impacts him as much or more as the other confessions have. (The same but different.) Maybe the tables turn and Ted has something to confess to her. While the 1x9 conversation ended in an embrace and the 2x11 conversation ended with a bit more physical distance (understandable given the current state of their relationship and the nature of the discussion), the verbal ending of both conversations involved voices moving into a sexier lower register while zooming in to talk specifically about their connection to each other, so I have to assume there will be some consistencies in s3 even if the circumstances will be completely different. I don’t really know where I’m going with this and I obviously will go insane if I sustain this level of anticipatory energy until Fall 2022 but I have a feeling my brain and heart are going to try!

Sam and Rebecca. I know there’s been a lot of criticism about whether this show is being at all realistic about the power dynamics and inevitable professional issues this relationship would create. On some level, I agree; I like that pretty much everyone who knows about the affair has been kind so far, but you can be kind and still ask someone to contend with reality. But I also think that in nearly every plot point on this show, the narrative is driven by how people feel about their circumstances first and foremost. (It’s why the whiteboard in the coaching office and the football commentators tell us more about how the actual football season is going from a points perspective than anyone else.) This episode reminded me how few people know about Sam and Rebecca, and how much their time together so far has been time spent in bed. The private sphere. I thought this episode really expertly brought the public sphere into it, not—thank goodness—through a humiliating exposure or harsh judgment but through an opportunity for Sam that illustrates not only all his potential to do great things but how much Rebecca’s professional position and personal feelings are in conflict with that. Could stand in the way of that. I don’t have a strong gut feeling about where this will go, but I do think Sam’s face in his final scene of this episode is telling. He started the episode wanting to see Rebecca (his most recent text to her was about wanting to connect), and Edwin’s arrival from Ghana really exploded his sense of what is possible for his life. If he’d arrived home to Rebecca sitting on his stoop prior to meeting Edwin, he’d have been delighted. Now he’s conflicted, and whatever decision he makes, he has to reckon with the reality that he cannot have everything he wants. No matter what. And Rebecca—she has taken Ted’s advice and is attempting to be honest about the fact that she can’t control Sam’s decisions but hopes he doesn’t go, and even saying that much feels so inappropriate. And I’m not sure how much she realizes about the inappropriateness of the position she’s putting him in, although maybe she’s getting there considering she exits the scene very quickly. I’ve honestly loved Rebecca’s arc this season. I think it’s realistic that she got obsessed with the intimacy she thought she could find in her phone. I think it’s realistic that her professional and personal ambitions are inappropriately linked. (They certainly were for Rupert. It’s been years since she’s known anything different; even if she’s done some significant recovery work to move on from her abusive marriage and figure out her own priorities, she’s got a long way to go.) I know there are people who will read this interaction between Rebecca and Sam as a totally un-self-aware thing on the part of “the show” or “the writers” but what I saw is two people who enjoyed being in bed together and now have to deal with the reality that they’re in two different places in their lives and that one has great professional power over the other. If that wasn’t in the show, I wouldn’t be able to see it or feel so strongly about it.

Edwin and Sam. I really enjoyed all the complexities of this interaction. Edwin is promising a future for Sam that doesn’t quite exist yet, though he has the financial means to make it happen. He offers this by constructing for Sam a Nigerian—and Ghanaian—experience unlike anything he’s found in London. Sam is amazed that this experience is here, and Edwin’s response is to explain to him that the experience is not here. Not really. The experience in Africa. Sam has of course connected to the other Nigerian players on the team, but this is something else entirely. I’m really curious if Sam is going to end up feeling that what Edwin has to offer is real or not. That sense of home and connection? So real. And so right that he would want to experience that homecoming and would want to be part of building that experience for others. But at the end of the day, he went to a museum full of actors and a pop-up restaurant full of “friends,” and is that constructed authenticity as a stand-in for a real homecoming more or less real than the home he’s building in Richmond? (With other players who stand in solidarity with him, and with well-meaning white coaches who say dumb stuff sometimes, and an a probably-doomed love interest, and a feeling that he should put chicken instead of goat in the jollof, and the ability to stand out as an incredible player on a rising team.)

Nate and everyone. But also Nate and no one. Nate’s story is so painful and I’m so anxious for next week’s episode. For a long time I’ve felt that a lot of Nate’s loyalties are with Richmond, and a lot of his ambitions are around having given so much to this place without getting a lot back, and having a strong feeling that he’s the answer to Richmond’s future. But now I’m not so sure; his ambitions have transferred into asking everyone he knows (except Ted, of course), if they want to be “the boss.” But Nate is all tactics and no communication. When he wants to suggest a new play to Ted, he hasn’t yet learned to read Ted’s language to learn that Ted is eager to hear what he has to say. And while Ted has been really unfortunately distracted about Nate and dismissive of him this season, he clearly respects Nate’s approach to football and was appreciative of the play. Nate just can’t hear that. The suit is such a great metaphor of all the things Nate is in too much pain to be able to hear clearly. Everyone digs at him for wearing the suit Ted bought him (including Will, who’s got to get little cuts in where he can, because he’s got to be sick of the way Nate treats him), but when he gets fed up his solution isn’t to go out on his own and find more clothes he likes; he asks Keeley to help him. And then crosses a major line with her...and no matter how kind she was about it, she was clearly not okay. Everything is going to blow up, and I’m so curious as to whether Nate will end up aligning himself with Rupert in some way or if he’s going to end up screwed over by Rupert and in turn try to screw over his colleagues even worse than he’s already done. Or try desperately to make amends even though it could be too late for some. Either way, I’m fully prepared to feel devastated. (And there’s no way I’m giving up on this character. If he’s able to learn, I truly believe he could end up seeking forgiveness and forging a happier existence for himself. Someday. Like in season 3 or something.)

Ted and Trent. Trent deciding to reveal his source to Ted is a huge deal, and I’m torn between so many emotions about this exposé. I’m glad it’s a Trent Crimm piece and not an Ernie Loundes piece. I’m glad that Trent made the decision to warn Ted and let him know that Nate is his source. I fear—but also hope—that this exposure will set off a chain reaction of Ted learning about some of the things he’s missed while suffering through a really bad bout with his dad-grief and panic disorder. The things Ted doesn’t know would devastate him. I wonder if Ted will want to figure out a way to make Nate feel heard and reconcile with him, and I wonder how that will be complicated if/when he realizes Nate has severely bullied Will, gets more details on how he mistreated Colin, etc. I wonder if Rebecca, whom Nate called a “shrew” right before she announced his promotion, will be in the position of having to ask Ted to fire him, or overriding Ted and doing it herself. So many questions! I have a feeling it’ll go in some wild yet very human-scaled, emotionally-nuanced direction, and I’ll be like “Oh my GOD!” but also like “Oh, of course.”

This VERY SERIOUS AND EMOTIONAL REVIEW has a major flaw, which is that none of the above conversations include mention of the absolute love letter to N*SYNC. Ted passionately explains how things should go while dancing ridiculously! Will turns on the music and starts gyrating! Roy nods supportively! Beard shouts the choreography like the Broadway choreographer of teaching grown men who play football how to dance like a boy band. Everyone is so incredibly proud when they nail it. I love them.

I cannot believe next week is the end. For now. I’m kind of looking forward to letting everything settle during the hiatus, but I’ve really loved the ride.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

meet clay, he knows how you'll die.

intro filler chapter sorry

☾ pairing: dream x reader

☾ cw: interact at your own risk; contains graphic depictions of various character death and violence, suicide, blood, gore, and other triggering material. angst, language, guns, adult content, mentions of sex, slow burn friends to lovers

☾ wc: ~4100

Clay pulled the strap of his backpack further on his shoulder as he wove through the mindless sea of college students, eyes scanning the crowd for you, his best friend and the only person he could stand at the early hour. His knuckles flashed white as he sighed, taking the blunt impact of someone walking into him. He removed one of his headphones, mumbling a quick apology and swatting off the enthusiastically apologetic sophomore girl. All he could focus on was how much she bit her lip as she stammered on about not seeing him. It wasn’t alluring to him when most girls tried to sway his affections by looking at him with a puppy dog expression; all his mind drifted to was the dead skin across the body of her lower lip.

He finally nodded and reinstated his headphone, turning on his heel and heading for the front of the building. He received a few greetings from his peers as they crossed his path, people who shared past lectures with him and who had cheated off of him during exams. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he stayed out of people’s business and didn’t express his opinions loudly, so people tended to like him. The autumn breeze picked up as he stood in the dwellings of political science majors on the front lawn, acting as if they hadn’t seen one another in years when it had been only a few days. Clay absent-mindedly looked down at his cellphone, flipping through music as he leaned against the cool brick of the hall’s facade, waiting for you to find him.

Clay’s usual brooding manner was often off-putting to outsiders, with the careless-hollow look in his eyes giving bystanders the impression that he was nothing but a machiavellian. But you always saw the brightness in him; the side that you always experienced was specifically for you, and he made sure to keep it that way. You had wedged herself into his life and he was ever grateful for the love you had given him.

Despite the understood truth between the two of you that nothing was to be left unsaid, Clay still found himself keeping one of the most important aspects of his character unknown to you. His bloodcurdling secret was his own curse, something that would only be poison for another soul to know.

“What’s up, stud?” Somehow a flush of relief rippled through Clay’s body as his eyes locked to yours, pulling him from his isolated shell. Your hair looked brighter today against the dark hoodie peeking out from beneath an all too familiar bomber jacket. The wind fluffed your locks slightly as you continued towards him.

His eyebrows perked up as if to signal he was attempting to downplay his excited demeanor. “Stud, huh?” You smirked at his response, taking one of his headphones and putting it in your own ear, her face angled up to Clay as you waited to recognize the song, swaying slightly.

He chuckled as you shrunk away from him after muttering the song’s artist disappointedly and rolling your eyes, pulling on his hoodie pocket to follow you. As chaotic as his life often felt, he could always rely on the consistency of you. You usually attached yourself to one of his backpack straps, handles, his belt loop, or ended up under his arm, wedged against his side. It had gotten to the point that he felt naked if you weren’t within arm’s length of him, which was rare for the two of you. “So, I have something for you.” He smugly looked down at you, green eyes masking a hidden sparkle as you handed him a can of root beer, making him chuckle.

“Aren’t you sweet?” He popped the tab, taking a sip as you waved at a group of girls passing the two of you before slipping your hand against the crook of his elbow where his hoodie sleeves were pushed back.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be payment for later. I need to head over to the cemetery for some rubbings. History 270 has me getting into some weird shit, huh?” He laughed again at you, offering you the drink.

“And you need wheels?” You nodded and smiled politely at him, beaming at his words. “Yeah, alright. I have to sketch something for art anyway.” He thought about the week’s assignment and then about your little project he had dealt with the prior year. You had acted like the two of you hadn’t been to the cemetery on a regular basis, but he was grateful that you wanted him to come along with you.

You quietly jumped once. “You are my hero in faded denim, Clay. You know that, right?”

The two of you parted ways to your select destinations, one of Clay’s least favorite parts of the day, which was only solidified as he sunk into his seat and attempted to look equipped for the lecture. He spotted an unfamiliar kid shaking his knee in a distant section of the classroom. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but the sie of the class had given him the pleasantries of getting his own personal curse out of the way on the first day.

He carefully watched the boy speak smugly to a few of the more athletic kids in the room. One of the athletes pointed to the general direction Clay was sitting in and they all moved towards him. He, yet again, took out his headphones, knowing full well that they would be talking to him for the rest of the class.

“Oi, Shaman,” one of the main guys greeted Clay like they always did: a strange pattern of slapping and shaking his hand. He was thankful he had gotten all of their first impressions months prior and didn’t have to worry about getting their scenarios again, but he geared up to meet the new kid.

“How are you, Punz?” Clay took a deep breath as the new kid was gestured to and brought into the light.

“This is Mark. He’s a transfer from one of the commuter campuses. Mark, this is the mastermind you pay for notes.”

Clay sarcastically smiled at Punz. “My, you flatter me more than any girl. Nice to meet you, man.” As soon as he touched Mark’s hand, Clay’s mind flashed to a dingy-looking barn out in the middle of nowhere before an older man in his mid-thirties came into view with a lever-action rifle in his hand. In another flash, Clay was in front of the man, now kneeling with the gun in his mouth, red, blurry eyes looking straight through Clay. A pang of guilt broke open in Clay’s stomach as he pushed against the handguard lever and pulled it back into place, squeezing the trigger and sending Ckay back to the class. He let out a sigh and fought to plaster one of his less absent smiles.

“Speaking of our lovely girls, Mark here has a question about her.” Clay’s head tilted towards Mark, not exactly squaring up to him, but sending him an amused look as if to warn him not to cross a line, knowing full-well this conversation would somehow involve you. “We all know that no guy would ever intrude on her without your blessing, but Mark sat near her on the bus before his first class and was thinking about asking her out.”

Clay bit back a laugh, feeling like the Vito Corleone. “Well, you know her, Punz, and you know she would be mortified if I told some guy to fuck off, so I would just ask her yourself?” Oh, how desperately Clay wanted to bash Mark for not even telling Clay himself and the fact that the boy before him was nowhere near your type, but Clay knew better than to burn bridges and he felt bad for the way Mark would meet his end.

Nobody, not even you, knew about Clay’s gift. In the going-on-five years of knowing you, he came breaths away from letting his secret slip but has always kept it hidden, hoping to bury it with him after being married to you for forty happy years.

The visions started around his fifth-grade year, beginning with vivid dreams of dying in the midst of the Civil War, feeling the warm gushing of blood leaving his system, and the stabbing pain of being shot multiple times beside a woman who oddly looked enough like you that he almost called out your name. He had lived what he presumed to be his death in the life before this one several times, each vision taking him a few clicks further.

Soon, he found himself catching glimpses of others’ deaths before they happened as soon as they touched him, but thankfully it was usually over with no time passing and he only endured the visions once for each person, fate having already sealed itself. The only person who seemed to mix him up was you.

It was love at first sight for him, but as soon as you touched his arm, bleak snapshots of a boating accident raced into his mind, only to have to re-experience the scenario a few months later with you stepping in front of a train. Even as a measly high school freshman, he promised himself that there was no way he was letting you die in the gruesome manners being predicted to you. He didn’t think changing fate was possible until he witnessed you in action. He hated seeing you so young in each of the glimpses, tearing him to shreds as he knew time and time again that there was no way he could change what was meant to be.

There were even times when he quietly promised you that he’d die by your side if he couldn’t stop it.

As his lecture let out, Clay found you tucked into a corner of the library, smiling to yourself silently as knew you had finally found what you were looking for in one of the massive books before you. There were many moments like this that Clay wished he could pause and remember for the rest of his life. He was proud that you were there for him even though you could have left instead of playing your own little game of library scavenger hunts.

Since knowing you, he had taken note of how you treated other boys, usually as first dates and never true pick-ups. You didn’t care if they called you the next day or not and he was sure you had never even been kissed before. Something about your guys’ relationship gave others the nod to leave it the fuck alone, and that your heart truly belonged to Clay; a responsibility he wished didn’t plague you with. Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to be with you, only worried that what you had would be destroyed because he knew that as soon as he told you about his gift, you might leave.

You always brought a bag of marbles and a bouquet of flowers to the cemetery. You loved to find the tombstones that looked neglected or ones with older dates, knowing that the possibility of having family members who remembered the person was lower. The trees in the graveyard were reds and yellows with the changing season, leaves scattered over the grass, naturally piling in large masses. This was your favorite for how neglected it seemed to always be. You had a knack for making inanimate objects and lost souls feel loved; Clay often feeling like he was one of these disembodied figures.

Clay leaned his back against one of the massive trees a few paces from the tombstone you had picked, smiling as he watched you carry out her routine. He flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook as you sat cross-legged in front of the great stone resting place, pulling the long-dead flowers from the concrete gauntlet and replenishing a few flowers in their place while setting an equal number of marbles along the grass line of the stone. A daisy was tucked behind your ear as you ran her fingers against the worn chiseling of the dates, smiling slightly. He began to sketch you out. Your eyes drifted to him before the corners of your mouth curled up into a smirk and you returned to her previous position, straightening your shoulders. “Who is it?” He asked, blending a rough edge with the pads of his finger as you tilted your head at the script carvings.

“George McAfee. Born 1926. Died 1963.” The wind picked up, blowing your hair away from your face as you pulled your jacket closer around you. “What was happening in 1963?” You turned your head to him momentarily before looking back at the lucky man. “I mean besides Beatlemania and JFK’s assassination?”

Clay outstretched one of his legs, swallowing as he thought, his eyes fluttering from the page in front of him to you. “Well, Alcatraz was shut down, Studebaker stopped production, the USSR sent the first woman into space…” he trailed off, watching you as the gears began to spin in your head.

“Do you think he died in the Coliseum explosion?” You wet your lips and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Maybe he died in the USS Thresher sinking?” He was thankful that he could capture your thoughtful gaze in this picture.

“You’re smart, Dream. Have I ever told you that?” He chuckled at the sigh in your voice. He detailed the bomber jacket you were wearing---which you’d stolen from his closet god knows when---a bit as you placed a piece of paper over the engraving and rubbed a crayon against the stone, his name coming to life on the paper as you came to life on Clay’s. It didn’t matter why you two would be in the cemetery, you always had a type of bond with the dead, surprising Clay due to how bright you were and your power of holding onto so much compassion. He threw his sketchbook into his backpack and slug in over his shoulder, moving to help you up. You decided to give the rest of the flowers to George as Clay stood next to you, gazing down at his grave.

A high-pitched moan startled the two of you, snapping your heads to look over the hedges separating your section of graves and the one beside it. Clay’s eyes widened as they fell to a girl in all black with porcelain skin propped on top of one of the tombstones. You clasped your hand over his mouth pulling him onto the ground next to you as you peered through a hole in the bushes. His mind noticed your arms first. One of them was secured over his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder from beneath his arm, holding onto him as he steadied himself in the weird crouching position. “Are you enjoying this?” He jeered, looking over his shoulder slightly as he heard you snicker. The girl began to ride the stone harder.

“How many times in your life are you going to see a girl humping a gravestone? Honestly, Clay, how many?” He shook his head as you both looked at the girl, giggling to yourselves. You dug her face into his shoulder trying to stifle the next laugh trying to rip through your body as the gothic girl moaned, letting out more labored breaths. Clay’s face contorted into a twisted look of disgust as the girl tugged on her own hair. “Oh, do you think that hurts?” You took the words out of his mouth, tightening your arms around him as he shrugged.

“I doubt it’s any rockier than sex with a human.” He bit his lip, a hollow sound interrupting him quietly laughing at his own joke as you thumped him in the chest. The girl moaned louder. “Alright, she’s climaxing. I’m uncomfortable now.” Clay stood and Willow popped up next to him, lacing your fingers with his, bringing color back to his cheeks as you slipped the remaining marbles into his pocket.

“Oh, hi!” In the midst of holding hands with you again and trying to slink back to his car, he hadn’t even realized that the moaning had stopped. The girl now stood near the two of you in what seemed to be a black slip. Clay found it hard to make direct eye contact with her. “Are you guys looking for someone?”

“We were, but we couldn’t find him so-” you began, gesturing for Clay’s car and pulling him next to you.

“Well, I can help. Who are you looking for?” A thousand sarcastically vulgar comments ran through Clay’shead but his eyes flickered from her face to the tombstone she was on previously.

“Uh, my grandpa. His name was Rupert Daniels,” Clay managed to choke out. Your nails dug into his arm while your hand squeezed his. The girl looked around at the surrounding stones.

“I don’t see him right now, but I can look?” You both shook your heads quickly and muttered various responses before finally slipping away from her and getting into his car. Neither of you said anything as you pulled off the gravel driveway until crossing the railroad tracks when Clay burst out laughing.

“Do you think she even knew who it was she was gettin’ it on with or did she just pick somewhere random?” Clay laughed harder at your stunned response. “I’m serious. Clay, what the fuck. How can someone even get off in a cemetery?”

“I don’t know, man. Would you hook up with someone in a cemetery?” Clay quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at you, causing you to laugh. You dug into his console, pulling out a bag of M&Ms you had stashed in there last week, popping one in your mouth.

“Only if it was you.”

He giggled. “Excuse me, what?”

“There are just some things you do with certain people, Dream. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered I’m the only one you would have sex with in a cemetery, or like, disgusted?” You laughed at his reaction.

Within ten minutes the sun had begun to set and Clay sang loudly with you to the song playing over the radio as Clay sped along one of the county roads near your apartment complex, not wanting the night to end. He loved these moments with you. You turned down the radio and threw your hair back into a ponytail. “So, what do you think of that new kid, Mark?” Something in Clay shifted, taking away the free feeling he had recently possessed next to you. He thought carefully.

He chewed his bottom lip. “Depends on what you think?”

“Well, he seems like a wannabe Punz. And he asked me out. Naturally, I said ‘yes’ because maybe he’s different?” Clay chuckled at your sarcasm, putting his car in park on the side of the street your flat was on and getting out with you. The radio still hummed in the air lowly. “He insisted on Friday, though.” Clay dramatically acted like you had stabbed him in the heart, even though it did hurt. Friday night was their night. It had been a running tradition for movie night every Friday since your freshman year and you had never canceled on Clay for a date. “I know, I know. But I figured that I’d tell him I had diarrhea when it hit eight o’clock and be over at your place with an extra pizza? Your roommate’s working right?” He chuckled with a nod, walking you up the first three steps to your place as you made it to the concrete landing. You turned to him. “And he said he was taking me somewhere fancy, so I’ll snag you some breadsticks.” He tilted his head at you as you winked at him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Wanna be Punz might be fun. Maybe I’ll call up Minx and hang out with her?” He joked. Minx was a friend of yours that hung out with the two of you sometimes. He had never really liked her, but she was friends with you and thus he was always civil.

“You’re still my number one, babe.” You pushed him slightly as you climbed a few more steps, leaning on the railing as he waved to leave. “Hey, Dream?” He turned on his heel as you forced yourself to make eye contact. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “You could kiss me, you know? For science.” You smiled softly at him from where you were perched. He wet his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to scale the steps and close the space between you, to knock you off your feet and show you just how much he was in love with you.

He hated himself. “A first kiss should have more magic in it than just for science. As a romantic, you should know first hand.” You smiled at the ground in front of you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The two of you seemed to shake off the serious moment as you stuck your tongue out at him and slipped inside your house as both giggled.

“I love you,” he murmured as you left, punching himself in the shoulder as he got back into his car.

Clay’s heartbeat pulsed in his ears, making him truly believe he was going to pass out. He had lost his gun at least a mile back. He was running mindlessly now, not knowing how long or where he was going. He trudged through the forest, hearing dogs barking and gunshots erupting around him, the ringing in his ears building with every step he forced himself to make. He wanted to rip open the front of his jacket to release the body heat drenching his collar, but he didn’t move other than propelling his body further and further away from the soldiers. You ran beside him, holding your skirt up while your hair danced around your shoulders like a great waterfall. As soon as his body felt like it might just give out, he would look at you and somehow find more of a drive to pull forward. His breaths were brittle and hoarse as he drew in borrowed oxygen. His lungs felt shallow like they were giving out on him.

You reached back, grasping his hand and pulling him into a sharp corner, hoping to lose the group. You both had managed to weave into the forest, but the dogs were somehow still picking up on your scent. The pair of you finally came upon a clearing and kneeled down out of sight, spotting a house in the middle of a glen. Bullets were streaming through the air. The forest was catching fire and cannons were echoing through the distant air. You squeezed his hand tightly, looking at him with terror in your eyes. He had gotten the two of you into this mess, but he was glad he was beside you.

He pulled you to your feet as the pair of you sprinted for a distant house. A sharp pain stabbed into Clay’s back, making him drop to the ground. How did he not hear the gun? You dropped to your feet, your eyes welling with tears, ripping at his jacket, but he pushed you off, telling you to leave quickly. He leaned forward, eyes locking on the soldiers in gray coming towards them, reloading their rifles. He groaned, pushing himself up, but only having the same stabbing sensation two more times in his chest. He heard you scream, but he couldn’t see you.

His hands were going numb as he touched where the bullets entered, feeling the warm and sticky crimson substance seep between his fingers. The soldiers reached you before you had made it to the house, pulling you to the ground next to him. You were crying heavily as you looked at him. Everything began to run quiet as you held onto him tightly. You were saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear you. He was only aware of his jacket soaking with blood. He coughed, wanting to tell you he loved you one last time, but you were tugged away from him, pressed to one of the men in gray. He raised a hand to you as you fought against the man. And then everything went dark.

Dream Tag List: (hopefully this works)

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @camerondiaz48104 @victory-is-here @rat-poisin @alm334 @acidluvs @pachowpachowbucket @bbigbbrainn @cdizzlevalntyne @idiotinnit @generallysleepdeprived @sacvf @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @essencee @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @jenlouvre @victoria-a567 @miilliiie @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @carlyferrell @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @nyxieahh @quivvyintheclouds @sarcasticmichelle @book-of-anarchy @millavalntyne @lightdreamy @baddiesforcorpse @sunnynapp @fantasy-innit @rat-poisin @wreny24 @deepestofwaters @exenestea @indecisivehusky @fallxnly @alm334 @skaratjung @punzcanrailme @sap-naps @denki-exe @angeltears18 @silvemistxe33 @andreamalik6 @kris-stuff @sun-fiower-seed @where-thesundoesntshine @dilfdream @esmegregory04 @itsparasocial @mlqcool @mcgoddess404 @rinatdawn @chaoscait @peppermintkisses @libbynotfound @speedrunningtherapy @lunxramour @aoonai @loraleiix @ghoulpixiie

[dontbipanicjonsa]

Been thinking about Dark!D*ny and

I think for me, it comes down to two things:

The utter hypocrisy re: her supposed abolitionist ways

The escalation of her power and the destruction she wreaks

Because I can't really fault her for smothering Drogo. I can't really fault her for letting Viserys die. I can't really fault her for murdering the shit out of Kraznys. I can't fault her for freeing slaves (as if). I can't even fault her for wanting revenge.

Let me explain-

I think if we compare the capture of the Lhazareen and the capture of Meereen, it paints a very clear picture of where D*ny is headed.

The Lhazareen

Ok. First, the whole 'D*ny has no power' argument has to stop. She's the khaleesi. Her husband is the khal. Of course she has power.

I'm NOT saying Drogo isn't absolutely monstrous to her. I'm not saying she chose to marry him. I'm not commenting on their relationship at all.

In a patriarchy, (upper class) women gain property/power/control over others in exchange for sexual/reproductive service. So D*ny, simply by virtue of being the khal's wife, or simply because she's pregnant with his kid (neither of which were her choice) has power.

For comparison, Cersei, who is abused by her husband, the king, still derives power from her position as Queen and mother of the princes/princess. See what I mean?

?? Drogo decides they're gonna sail to Westeros and gives his rousing speech because D*ny was almost assassinated. The attack on the Lhazareen was done in service of D*ny's conquest of Westeros. Let's repeat.

The Lhazareen were attacked to further D*ny's interests.

The Lhazareen were attacked to further D*ny's interests.

No, it wasn't for Rhaego, he's a fucking foetus he doesn't HAVE interests. It's not for Drogo, he doesn't give two shits about Westeros. IT"S FOR D*NY. And that is her 'power' in action. Her power, that she derives through her husband, because PatRiarChy. But power.

And you know what? Sure. It's fine. She didn't know what a bloodbath it was going to be. That's not her fault. And yeah, she IS ready to accept the bloodshed as necessary collateral. That is...a bit more questionable. But she does try to help some women.

Does she only help them because she can see their suffering? Probably. There's plenty of suffering not in her direct line of sight that she allows. But ok. Sure. It's not her job to save everyone (nevermind that they're suffering to further her interests).

The whole 'save them by marrying them to their rapists' thing makes me more sad than enraged. It's tragic. It's D*ny, making women marry their rapists in the same book where she married her rapist...thinking she's ok, thinking they would be ok too. It's the cycle of abuse in motion, right before our eyes.

This is an explanation I accept. All that bullshit about how powerless D*ny is? Pls. Women and children are being enslaved right there on the same page, so D*ny can win the IT, and she's powerless ?? stfu

Ok. I get it. She's not powerless, but how far does her power extend? COULD she have gotten away with getting all the newly enslaved Lhazareen freed? We'll never know. Does that absolve her?

Slaves, Dany thought. Khal Drogo would drive them downriver to one of the towns on Slaver's Bay. She wanted to cry, but she told herself that she must be strong. This is war, this is what it looks like, this is the price of the Iron Throne.

NO.

This- the capture and enslavement of the Lhazareen people- is a direct consequence of Viserys' ambitions, which is a torch that D*ny has now willingly taken up. THAT ^^^ is a price she's willing to pay, or rather- make others pay.

Buuuut it's fine. She's inexperienced, and her power is certainly limited, and hey she tried. Sure. Moving on.

Meereen

(TW: mentions of rape)

Fast forward four books and D*ny is approximately 100x times more powerful than she was in the Lhazareen scene. Let's see how she does now-

A boy came, younger than Dany, slight and scarred, dressed up in a frayed grey tokar trailing silver fringe. His voice broke when he told of how two of his father's household slaves had risen up the night the gate broke. One had slain his father, the other his elder brother. Both had raped his mother before killing her as well. The boy had escaped with no more than the scar upon his face, but one of the murderers was still living in his father's house, and the other had joined the queen's soldiers as one of the Mother's Men. He wanted them both hanged.

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. Dany had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack. Nor would she punish slaves for rising up against their masters.

xxx

A former slave came, to accuse a certain noble of the Zhak. The man had recently taken to wife a freedwoman who had been the noble's bedwarmer before the city fell. The noble had taken her maidenhood, used her for his pleasure, and gotten her with child. Her new husband wanted the noble gelded for the crime of rape, and he wanted a purse of gold as well, to pay him for raising the noble's bastard as his own. Dany granted him the gold, but not the gelding. "When he lay with her, your wife was his property, to do with as he would. By law, there was no rape." Her decision did not please him, she could see, but if she gelded every man who ever forced a bedslave, she would soon rule a city of eunuchs.

SO anyway how is D*ny rating on the 'tried to prevent rape' scale?

She even went so far as to summon Irri, hoping her caresses might help ease her way to rest, but after a short while she pushed the Dothraki girl away. Irri was sweet and soft and willing, but she was not Daario.

Oh look she's in the negative :/

How's she doing on the slavery front? She's got all the power now...

"Your slave Missandei." Jhiqui had a taper in her hand.

"My servant. I have no slaves." Dany did not understand. "Why does she weep?"

xxx

There was no slavery in the free city of Pentos. Nonetheless, they were slaves.

...

D*enerys spends five books gaining power. How does this affect the condition of her people? Is the condition of the Meereenese better than the condition of the Lhazareen had been, all the way back in the first book? No. It's worse.

People have still been raped. People have still been enslaved/remained enslaved. People have starved. People have been brutally murdered. And at a much larger scale than book 1.

This is what it comes down to. D*ny is a villain because her climb to power is characterized by death and destruction, always. Isn't that the trademark of a villain?

D*ny is a girl who truly believes in her own PR, but when you look at her words and actions-

"The Good Master has said that these eunuchs cannot be tempted with coin or flesh," Dany told the girl, "but if some enemy of mine should offer them freedom for betraying me . . ."

"They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that," the slaver answered. "Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all."

xxx

"No," she pleaded. "Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way … some magic, some …"

...how much of her actions are truly altruistic? How much is performative?

Despite her anti-slavery rhetoric, D*ny consistently benefits from slavery- and slavery flourishes.

Despite her 'oh no I don't wanna bring death and destruction anywhere', her actions continue to bring exactly that- and it never stops her from doing it all over again the next time.

Not to dismiss her internal struggle. But really. Being upset at the thought that you might be a bad person doesn't make you a good person. For that matter, being worried if you're going mad or not...doesn't mean you're not (not that I'm saying she is). Seriously, where did that logic even come from? Ultimately, her internal struggle makes her a more compelling character, sure, but it doesn't actually make her a better person.

The point is, her story is absolutely rooted in hypocrisy. Her destructiveness only escalates with her power. Her so-called good intentions never pan out- because her own actions undermine them. And because she has the self-awareness of a pigeon, she never gets better.

She IS the villain who thinks she's a hero. She isn't just a villain because she's done bad things, but because she's utterly unaware (or deliberately obtuse) of the bad things she's done, and so she's incapable of learning, and so she's only getting worse.

Take a step outside her POV and it suddenly becomes clear.

Let's recap.

D*ny has-

Wayy more power in Meereen. Less in Lhazareen

D*ny did-

Less to prevent rape in Meereen. More in Lhazareen

D*ny benefitted from-

Slavery in Meereen. Slavery in Lhazareen

D*ny was-

A slaver in Meereen. A slaver in Lhazareen

D*ny wreaked-

Death and destruction in Meereen. Death and destruction in Lhazareen.

D*ny, riding high on her power-

Ordered the murder of children. And much more.

Power is NOT good for D*ny.

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

heyo your imagines are amazing and i like reading them so much. i really appreciate you for writing for Alice in borderland as there isn’t a lot of content out there~ can you please write an imagine for niragi where the reader has been at the beach for quite the time and when she gets to know niragi she somehow falls for him because she sees right through him, and that he maybe starts to develop feelings for the reader too because she’s fearless and very confident. if it’s not too much trouble, could you make it a bit suggestive as well? thank you in advance~~

Of course I can! I’m not the best at writing with suggestive themes so I’ll try my best! 😅 I’m sorry but I changed the story line a little bit for it to fit more, so I hope this is still kind of what you had in mind.

Unlovable | Suguru Niragi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. Ann, Aguni, Hatter, Mira, Chishiya, Arisu, Last Boss)

Summary: Niragi finally finds you, who loves him for who he is, well, not exactly. And he gets a bit too attached.

Warnings: toxic relationship, suggestive themes, a lot of gaslighting, obsessive themes, a little bit angsty, threatening, choking, swearing, name calling

Word Count: 3.2k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a while to post. I was busy for the past couple of days so it’s kinda rushed 😣

“Y/N! Come quick!”

You jolted awake as Ann burst into your room, shaking the door frame from the force. You blinked your eyes to adjust to the light, looking at her dazed.

“What?” you murmured, sitting up and out of the comfy sheets on your bed. 

“The executives have called a meeting. They say it’s urgent,” she stressed, rushing up to the side of your bed and ripping the duvet off of you.

You shivered and sighed loudly in disappointment. “Why? It’s too early for this shit,” you whined, rolling back onto your side and closing your eyes again. These urgent emergency meetings have become ridiculous, always taking place in the morning when everyone’s still sleeping. You would gladly have quit having the higher place at The Beach if it meant for you to have some peace and quiet.

“Now!” Ann pushed again. You groaned in annoyance and got out of bed. She seemed serious, so you didn’t want to anger her more.

You both quickly made your way to the top floor where the meeting room for the executives was located. You noticed Ann’s heavy breathing and worried expression, making you anxious as to what she thinks could have happened.

Hatter had left the night before to replenish his visa, having a big celebration as he drove off with Aguni and a few more of his men. Things had been becoming more tense as time went on. It felt wrong watching Hatter drive away so reluctantly. You offered to assist him in his game, seeing as you earned yourself a high number at The Beach from clearing many difficult games yourself. But Hatter declined, insisting that he would return to The Beach safe and sound before you knew it.

But unfortunately, he was wrong.

You and Ann rushed into the large room. You saw Arisu and Chishiya standing near the end of the table placed in the middle of the room. You strolled over to them and laid eyes on the scene before you.

There, Hatter laid dead on the table. Limbs spread out lifeless, skin pale and dead. The horrific sight made you feel sick, making you cover your mouth with your hand. The scene almost felt unreal, this shouldn’t have happened. Hatter wouldn’t be dead if you just went with him.

Ann walked over to his body to examine it, but before she even had the chance to touch the bullet wound embedded in his bare chest, Niragi barged into the room with his usual cocky and obnoxious aura filling the air like a bad smell.

“Oi, don’t touch him as you please. You dissection maniac,” he growled.

Your eyes followed him closely. Now that Hatter was gone, people like him could start dangerous trouble at the hotel. But, as long as you said something about it, you would make sure Niragi wouldn’t start any fires that he’s not willing to put out himself.

After all, you were the only person who knew his true self, and how he perceived everyone around him. It was pathetic really. In a way you took pity on him. Such a simple tactic for the brain to protect itself, become a heartless and cold monster towards others so no one could ever do the same to you again.

With Niragi, unfortunately it was hunt or be hunted.

You kept your strong gaze on him as he lifted his eyes to meet yours from across the table for a hot minute. His dark orbs glistened as they locked with yours, making the tension in the room become thicker as every second passed. He smirked in your direction before turning away.

“He was shot by a gun,” Ann stated, breaking the thick silence in the room. She looked over the small hole in his chest in fascination.

“What will happen to The Beach?” a young man asked who was standing nearby you. You stayed silent, not wanting to start anything that may end in chaos. You always had good points and valid arguments, but sometimes you knew when the best time was to bring them up. This was not it.

“I mean it’s only reasonable for the strongest to become the new leader!” Niragi exclaimed over everyone. “We need someone who can take good care of The Beach and keep order,” he yapped on, swinging his sniper rifle all around making a few people flinch when he aimed it at them.

You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. Trust him to be the most opinionated.

“I say, how about Aguni as our new leader,” he suggested, leaning forwards onto the table and watching everyone like a hawk. Aguni held no reaction, keeping his usual cold stone expression while having Niragi speak for him.

After no one reacted, all looking down to the ground to avoid Niragi’s gaze, he stood up straight and pulled a bored expression. “That’s not a good reaction,” he mocked, “Last Boss?”

You glanced over to where the hooded figure stood, watching in fear as he unsheathed his katana sword and rushed over to Ann, holding the deathly sharp blade a few inches from her throat. Your heart leaped to your mouth. If he was to try anything, you were ready to start chaos.

But nothing of the sort happened. Ann simply sighed frustratingly and held up her hand obediently. Niragi hummed, approving.

“This isn’t a majority vote,” Mira hissed from next to him.

Niragi stood and leaned his face close to hers, holding the barrel of his weapon close to her face to threaten her. “But it is! Isn’t it? After all, you’re all free to vote as well.”

One by one, he slowly circled the table, each person being scared for their life the closer he got to them. But you remained calm next to Chishiya, knowing that considering the relationship you have with Niragi, he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt you. He didn’t have the guts to.

As he moved from Chishiya, he finally locked eyes with you. He quickly strolled up to your still frame, stopping suddenly very close to you in an attempt to make you feel threatened. ‘As usual,’ you thought to yourself. ‘The old “I’m taller and bigger than you so I’m stronger” stupid tactic.’

“And what about you princess? Care to raise your hand for a vote for Aguni?” he hissed into your face. You held your neutral expression, becoming bored from this act he was putting on. It was purely for show, and yet wasn’t everyone’s personality? But Niragi, his act of this scary psychotic man angered you to your core.

“What if I don’t?” you snickered, walking towards him in an attempt of intimidation. He took a step back in shock. “It’s not like you need my precious vote, you already have so many.”

Niragi’s usual cocky smirk melted from his face, turning into a frustrated scowl. You felt him put his rifle underneath your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Be careful with that tongue of yours sweetheart, you wouldn’t want to lose it,” he growled quietly.

His threat made you smirk, almost bringing butterflies into your stomach. “I think you should be more concerned about that head of yours. You wouldn’t want to get it stuck too far up your own ass.”

You flinched as you felt his rough hand shoot from his rifle to your neck, instantly tightening around your throat making you widen your eyes in surprise. You lifted your arm and gripped his wrist in case he tightened his hold anymore. The look on his face was deathly. If looks could kill, you’d be already a few years into the afterlife.

Chishiya stood beside you watching the whole scene. He knew better than to intervene, as he could tell that Niragi wouldn’t ever intentionally permanently hurt you.

Niragi held you still as he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath hitting your sensitive skin. “Shut your fucking mouth you brat. You wouldn’t want me to hurt you too much later, would you?” You cringed as you felt his tongue slide behind the back of your ear, the piercing making you shiver.

“Niragi,” you heard Aguni say, saving you from the public embarrassment of getting felt up by Niragi in front of everyone you knew. “That’s enough, I think she gets the point.”

Niragi grunted in annoyance before loosening his fist on your neck. You sucked in a huge gasp of air, coughing slightly. Chishiya placed a gentle hand on your back in a sign of care, hoping that you’re okay.

Niragi aimed his rifle lazily at Chishiya’s face. “She’s fine, don’t touch her. A little choking is nothing she can’t handle.”

Chishiya immediately took his hand off of you, being taken back by Niragi’s comment.

You stood up straight after recovering, laying your eyes back on Niragi as he continued terrorizing the executive members.

God you hated that man. You hated how much you loved him.

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

The room was now empty, consisting of no one except for you and Ann, who was still looking over Hatter’s body for any other injuries. You watched curiously, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Seems a bit weird, doesn’t it?” you spoke up through the silence.

“What does?” Ann answered, not bothering to look at you.

“Someone with a hundred percent winning streak dies now? Just as the tension between the militants and the others was getting to its peak?” you questioned.

Ann rolled her eyes sarcastically and turned towards you. “Took you long enough to figure out. Really? You didn’t suspect that from the start? Even after that shit-show that Niragi pulled earlier?”

You were taken back by her sudden anger. Ann never became mad at you, even if she had a legitimate reason to. You looked at her as she stared into your eyes intensely before sighing and turning back to Hatter.

“Sorry Y/N,” she apologized. “I’m just stressed. This shit is getting too heavy to handle, and now with Hatter gone and Aguni in his place, who knows what will happen to people like you, me, Mira, Chishiya and Alice. They could kill us if they want to.”

Her words hit your heart heavily. It was true. Aguni and his militants were never a particularly predictable bunch. And you weren’t exactly on all their good sides, well, except for Niragi’s.

“Sorry Ann,” you muttered out quietly. You thought it would be best to leave her alone. She obviously was quite distraught from Hatter’s death.

You shuffled out of the room, head held low in despair. Who knew what would happen to this place now? It was like a ticking time bomb only no one knew how long there was left until it exploded.

As you walked through the large door frame that led outside of the meeting room, a sudden grip on your arm brought you out of your thoughts and made you yelp. You were yanked into a hard chest, being held close and tight.

“Hey love. How are you feeling?” the person growled. You looked to see it was none other than Niragi himself. Of course it was, who else would treat you so roughly?

You stared into his ominous eyes, trying to read him. He ran his hand down your back slowly causing you to shiver. “Niragi,” you breathed out. You pushed against his broad chest to separate you. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood right now.”

You stepped away from him and tried to escape down the hall, but he grabbed your hand before you could go anywhere. “Bullshit. You’re never in the mood. And the sass you were giving me in there in front of everyone says otherwise.” He pulled you back towards him, pushing your head onto his shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. “I didn’t like how you treated me, it made me upset.”

He was lying through his teeth, knowing that making you feel guilty for defending yourself against him would bring him more of your attention. Simple gaslighting, worked every time.

You chuckled against him then leaned back and cupped his face with your hands. He held a sad expression on his face, obviously to make you sympathetic.

“You’re such a big baby,” you laughed. “Try to act so tough and dominant in front of everyone, but look at you now. Crying into my shoulder about your feewings?” you mocked him. Niragi scowled and pulled his head out of your hands. “Shut up, as if you’re any better.”

It was true. That’s why you both clicked together. He was a gaslighting maniac who knew how to put up a fake ‘nice guy’ façade around you and you were a tough and snappy woman, who felt much too much empathy for others.

That’s how you fell into his trap. He used your empathy to his advantage, making you fall in love with him so he could have what he’d always wanted. Someone who loves him for who he is, no matter how many masks he had to put on for them.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning up and pressing a small peck onto his lips. “Can you promise me something?” he suddenly asked after you pulled away from his face.

You grew anxious about what he wanted and nodded your head slowly in hesitation.

“When the chance comes, can we leave The Beach together? Like, run away?” he questioned, snaking his arms around your waist and squeezing tightly.

You laughed at his question, making him frown. He was being completely serious. “And go where Niragi? There’s not exactly a place we can go to.”

“Anywhere,” he answered sharply. “We could find a nice little hideout in Tokyo. Just you and me, no one else.” His grip on your waist tightened, making you flinch in his arms slightly.

He could see you tossing between answers. It wasn’t working, he had to try something else. He put on the fakest sad face he could do and pressed his forehead against yours while pouting. “Please? I promise I’ll take care of you.”

You practically melted as his begging. “Okay,” you sighed.

“Promise me,” he reminded you, running a hand through your soft hair.

There was a short moment of silence before you answered. “I promise.”

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

You laid in your room with the sheets tossed lazily over you. Niragi was called to go talk to Aguni again before he went to sleep, so you were waiting for him.

Your eyes scanned your book quickly, wanting to finish the chapter you were on before Niragi returned. Because god forbid you having your attention on something that wasn’t him when he was around.

You glanced over at the door when you heard it creep open and Niragi stepped in, placing his sniper rifle carefully on the ground nearby and removing his boots.

“You took your time.” you teased, putting your book on the nightstand and sitting up in bed. Niragi groaned tiredly, stumbling over to your shared bed and collapsed dramatically face down onto the duvet. You giggled at him, running a soft hand though his midnight hair and pulling it out of it’s hair tie.

If he was a cat, he swore he could’ve purred at your touch. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not having physical affection for years on end does that to a person.

He sat up and crawled over to you. He grabbed your chin and pressed your lips together roughly, running his tongue across your mouth as he did so. You groaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, making him smirk against your lips.

After a few minutes, he detached his lips from yours and started licking and sucking your sensitive skin on your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck. He felt shivers run down his spine as you gripped his shirt in your fist on his back. He loved having this power over you, and having you accept him and love him enough to not fight back.

You leaned your head back and closed your eyes, giving him more access to your neck. As you did so, he placed a hand on your lower back and pulled you towards him, forcing you to lie down on the bed with him hovering over you.

He pulled away from your neck and looked down at you, admiring your anxious expression painted across your face. He chucked. “What’s wrong baby,” he cooed, leaning down and continuing kissing your collarbones.

His voice was dripping in sweetness, so sweet it could’ve made you feel sick. It sounded fake, but you didn’t pick up on it. It was a shame. You saw Niragi as nothing but a victim of his own mind, but you weren’t able to see yourself becoming a victim of it.

“I’m just...” you mumbled out, feeling weak and vulnerable under his touch. “I’m scared Niragi.”

He pulled back again and looked into your eyes with a worried expression. “Why are you scared? It’s just me and you here angel. You’re perfectly safe,” he whispered out, stroking his knuckles down your cheek lovingly.

You knew you loved Niragi, but knowing he can change his personality in a blink of an eye unsettled you. Who knew when he would do that to you? You heard him speak up again.

“We’ve slept together many times before, why are you becoming shy just now?” he teased, lifting a hand and slowly running it up along your tummy underneath your shirt. Your breath hitched as his cold hands made contact, making your stomach muscles tense.

“So sensitive,” he cooed again, snuggling his head into your chest, just above your breasts. “I love you.”

The confession made your heart skip a beat and you tensed. Niragi noticed this, making his body fill with anxiety. Did he say it too soon?

“Sorry,” he mumbled against your shirt. “That was a bit much, you don’t have to say it back,” he gaslighted.

“No,” you cut him off. “I love you too.”

Niragi’s heart filled with warmth and he felt all his nerves tingle around his body. He hadn’t heard that since he was a kid, and hearing you say it did nothing but make him more fall in love.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he sniffed out. You looked down to see him staring at you, tears filling his eyes. It made your heart ache.

He took his body weight off you and hovered himself above you again. “I promise, I won’t let anyone ever hurt you,” he mumbled, voice cracking slightly. His arms that laid on either side of your head acted like a cage. Whether you were trapped willingly or forcefully was beyond your guess.

As he leaned his head down again and pressed his still wet lips against yours, you felt his lanky arms snake around your torso underneath you, keeping you in place.

You laid there, moving your mouths together and holding each other as close as possible. It would’ve almost been romantic and loving if it wasn’t for the context. While one was preying on their victim to achieve what they’ve so desperately wanted their whole life, the other believed that that person was the victim themselves.

Such irony, to love someone who has a ‘unlovable’ personality, when it’s not even the one that you fell in love with.

The one you fell in love with was nothing but one of his many masks. And no one could determine whether he would ever take it off in front of you.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this one was actually hard to write. It’s a bit all over the place but I hope it was still enjoyable to read! Also I’m not going to do a Part 2 to this fic, but if you want to read something similar to this kind of yandere theme with Niragi, read my other fic called You’re Everything You Once Hated. I’m going to be posting a Part 2 of that one soon.

[buckyownsmylife]

I write sins not tragedies - Andy Barber smut

The one where you’re Andy’s sugar baby and he loves seeing you in lingerie

Warnings: rough sex, daddy kink, sugar daddy relationship, infidelity (reader is the other woman), throatfucking, curses, some degrading name-calling in a very loving way

A/N: Day 5 of kinktober and I can’t believe I’m still keeping up with this! Prompts for today were daddy kink and lingerie!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t even notice him entering the apartment, that’s how focused on my study session I was. But then two strong arms wrapped themselves around my torso and before I could even consider tensing up from the surprise, his cologne calmed my brain down and I was automatically melting against him.

“Hi, daddy.” I turned my head to the side to meet his eyes, but no such luck. He had buried his face against the crook of my neck, and his delicious beard was tickling me, making me thrash around in his arms.

“Hi, princess. I thought you’d missed me,” he mumbled against my skin, making me giggle. For someone who was constantly accusing me of being dramatic, he could be so much worser than me sometimes. Especially when he had a hard day in the office or in his family life.

“You know I always do. Did you have a rough day?” At that, he finally released me, allowing me to turn around on the bed so I could look him in the eye, taking notice of the dark patches underneath them. “Oh, Andy. I wish you’d take better care of yourself.”

My words brought a little smile to his face, and his eyes shined with a particular light as he looked at me, his hands cradling my cheeks. “You’re the only one who can take care of me properly.”

I tried not to show how he made me feel warm inside with just that one sentence, because I was honestly very worried about him, so I simply rolled my eyes. “Then I guess you have to move in, so I can take care of you 24/7, huh?”

It was just a teasing remark, I honestly didn’t have any second intentions with my words. I knew what I was getting into when Andy approached me with the proposition to become his sugar baby. I knew he was married and had a kid not that much younger than me and I never deluded myself into believing he’d simply abandon everything for me.

But when things got bad and I couldn’t be there for him when he actually needed me, that was the only time I second-guessed this entire arrangement. Because the truth was, I had fallen for him, hard. And it was difficult to remember he wasn’t mine to take care of most of the time. 

“Please, ignore what I said. I didn’t mean it like that. Come here,” I begged, wrapping my hands around his suit’s lapels and pulling his weight down on the bed, so he’d be on top of me. Even frozen from the shock provoked by my words, he still easily followed, allowing me to cradle his face and kiss him all over until he was comfortable enough to talk again.

“Y/N…” He suddenly started, trying to push himself away from me, his voice in such a serious tone that I immediately knew what he was going to say, but I didn’t need to hear it. So I followed his movements, sitting up on the bed too, before covering his mouth with one of my hands, climbing on his lap.

“Please, Andy, don’t. Really. All I meant was… It doesn’t matter, you just don’t need to worry about it. I love what we have. I’m not asking for more. Promise.” He didn’t look like he trusted me that much, but then again, it could also be a bit of his own guilt as he stared me down with those expressive brown eyes of his. But I wouldn’t let him get dragged into that useless whirlwind, at least that I could do for him.

“Here, let me take your mind off of it. Wanna see something nice?” He still looked wary as he watched me get out of bed until I was standing in front of him, but after a few minutes and a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair and nodded.

“If it comes from you, always.” The tiny smile he gave me had my heart doing backflips in my chest, and I returned it with a much bigger one, hoping to show him that I really was fine. And then I started to push down my sweatpants, wiggling out of them before taking off my sweater too, until I was left with only my latest purchase. 

The sound of Andy’s breath hitching was everything I needed to know I was in the right direction. The piece I was wearing was yellow with white little daisies that covered the places there were supposed to be lace or any sort of fabric. It was ridiculously expensive for something with so little, but the way Andy was looking at me made it seem worthy.

He always did have a thing for seeing me in lingerie. Well, I didn’t know if it was me, specifically, just that it was the first thing he started to gift me just as soon as he covered all the essentials I needed to live.

For a long time, they were all that I had except for his impromptu gifts that always consisted of new lingerie pieces and some other frivolous thing, like a designer bag or some jewels, and I always accepted it with gratitude but insisted that he didn’t have to bother. I liked him and all I needed was for his help with the bills, but still, he wouldn’t have it.

He’d say that spoiling me was the best part of his week and that me accepting what he got me was one of the things I needed to do for him in return, so really, what could I do? The problematic part was when he started to include in the allowance money that he gave me to buy groceries a few hundred dollars supposed to be destined for me to buy some new pieces myself. 

He wanted to be surprised, he said. As much as he loved to pick out some pieces for me and imagine me in them before actually getting to see them against my skin, he also wanted to have me amaze him once in a while. And this was the first time I finally got the courage to do so.

“Babygirl, you look so…” Immediately jumping back into the mindset that I wanted him to be in, I silently congratulated myself not only on being able to distract him but also for my choice in underwear. “Delicious,” was the word he settled in, the hand that was holding mine as I twirled around for him to get a full-view suddenly disappearing as he stood upright in front of me, towering over my scantily-clad body with his full height while still wearing his suit. 

The way he was looking at me had me shivering under his gaze, and he smirked when he noticed, just before dropping to his knees and grabbing one of my legs to put it over his shoulder. “In more ways than one…”

And then his tongue was right over my pussy, a single finger from the hand that wasn’t helping me stay up curled against my underwear to allow him to move freely. He hummed at my taste, making my knees instantly buckled. “How the fuck are you so delicious, huh, babygirl?” 

Before I could even consider answering, he sucked on my clit, making me release a strangled gasp as I tried to keep myself up, a hand on his hair and the other on his shoulder. He knew how hard it was for me to do anything when his face was buried against me, knew how talented he was with that tongue, but still, he didn’t have any pity for me. 

“Answer daddy,” he admonished, slapping the back of one of my thighs, almost making me fall to my knees. “C’mon, sweet girl. You know how much I hate when you leave me unanswered.”

Taking a deep breath to try to gather my thoughts, it was hard for me to even remember what it was that he’d asked me in the first place. Finally, after another slap, this one over my ass, which he took the opportunity to grab after, I managed to spill out an “I-I don’t know, daddy.”

It wasn’t the answer Andy wanted, that much I knew, so it didn’t surprise me too much when he detached myself from my pussy after one last lick, before getting up to his full height, his hands immediately going to his belt.

“You know that’s not good enough, baby. Get on your knees for me.” I bit on my lower lip to stop a smile from appearing on my face, for the sake of our game. This was supposed to be a punishment, I knew that. I couldn’t very well just show him how eager I was to have his taste on my tongue again.

But the smirk he sported as he slapped his cock against my cheek let me know he was well aware of the fact. The number of times I’d been called his cockslut, after all, couldn’t very well be forgotten by the very man who had trained me to take him like a pro.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking, sweetheart,” he warned, making me bite the inside of my cheek to stop the giggles that I could feel rising through my chest. “But if you let daddy fuck your throat the way he likes, he just might give you what you want. Open up,” he orders and I, ever dutifully and simply his, do exactly as he says, my tongue sticking out to welcome his weight on my mouth.

“Shit, baby, I always forget how incredible you feel,” he comments mindlessly, and despite knowing it was nothing less than a compliment, it hurts my chest for a moment the possibility of him going home and simply pretending that I don’t exist, ignoring how great I can make him feel.

Blinking away the tears that were already rising under my eyelids, I couldn’t really attribute them to the lack of oxygen yet, but I was hoping the excuse would fit if one managed to escape. So I blindly reached out for Andy’s ass and pulled him to me, effectively choking myself on his dick.

“Jesus fucking CHRIST, what has gotten into you today?” He asked as he pulled me back from his cock by my hair, and I coughed a bit as I gathered my breath, before shaking my head as well as I could while he kept his grip on me.

“Nothing, daddy. I just really want to pleasure you.” He looked suspicious again, but now wasn’t the time to inquire about it. Not when his cock was throbbing, the red tip leaking precum drops that you were too eager to lap up. “Fuck, okay. But stay put, alright, princess? Let daddy decide the pace.”

Your mouth-watering at the sight of him helped the blowjob immediately become sloppy, just like he liked. “Fuckkkk. Just like that, baby girl. Now, relax your throat, okay?” I did as he said, allowing him to dip my head back as I reminded myself to breathe through my nose before he immediately started to fuck his cock on my throat, provoking my gag reflex to act up and the tears to start again.

“Hold it, baby. We both know you can. Don’t you like it when daddy’s cock is nested inside your pretty throat? When you can’t breathe and it’s all because of me?” His hand gripped my neck, aiding the asphyxiation as he felt himself inside of me. “Oh, yeah. See? This is why daddy loves coming to see you. Only you can treat him so. fucking. well.”

After a particularly hard thrust that left me coughing out my lungs, he pulled me to my feet by my hair before throwing me on the bed, face down. “And since you’ve been such a good little girl for daddy, he’ll give you what you want.”

I could feel my wetness dripping down my thighs as I heard him open the condom packet. Just the sound of the foil was enough to make me whimper. Behind me, I could hear Andy chuckle at my eagerness.

“Such a good little princess for me. So crazy for my cock, huh?” The blunt head of his length rubbing against my throbbing clit was exactly enough to get me even needier for him. I sucked in a breath as he teased me for a little while, rubbing himself over my opening but never actually pushing in.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“Y-yes, daddy. Only for your cock.” Fuck, she just knew exactly what to say to make me lose control. This was precisely why I needed her so much. Why I couldn’t even feel bad about what I was doing. Not when she was the only one with whom I could actually be myself.

Thrusting inside of her for the first time in a night was always the best feeling, probably akin only to walking through the gates of heaven, perhaps because that’s what she was to me: my own little piece of heaven, my angel on Earth. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” I asked, my heart overflowing with emotions I couldn’t allow myself to feel as I carefully brushed the strands of her hair away from her face, so I could hold them all in my makeshift ponytail. When she hummed in agreement, that’s when I felt comfortable enough to start thrusting in and out of her, appreciating the wet sounds of her pussy trying to keep my cock inside of her.

“Daddy… please…” She begged, her hands reaching forward to hold onto the duvet of her bed while I abided by her desires and started to fuck into her harder. She really was my other half, the only one who understood and reciprocated my needs.

“Daddy got you, little one. Just hold on tight.” Her hands practically curled into fists, I started to fully pound her against the mattress, one of my hands coming around her to hug her back to me, while I played with her clit. “Such a perfect little girl for your daddy. Now daddy needs you to cum around him, can you do that, princess? Can you be a good girl for me?”

The dirty talk always got to her, and within seconds she was trembling in my arms, gasping in need of air as her pussy milked my cock until all of my cum was safely inside the condom. 

I could still remember when we had that discussion. I obviously had wanted to fuck her raw, but that was one of the only limits she established right away. “You’re still gonna be fucking your wife, I need to be safe.”

The fact that I hadn’t felt anything when she pointed out that if I was cheating, Laurie could very well be doing the same, should have shown me just how screwed up I was. “Princess…” I started after cleaning us both with a wet towel from the bathroom. She looked up at me expectantly, obviously curious about what I had to say, but the seconds our eyes met, she already knew the subject I was going to approach.

“No, Andy. Let it go! We’ve been through this already.” Sighing, I couldn’t help but smile as I sat down by her side on the bed, as always fascinated by the fact that she could so easily read what was on my mind. 

“As incredible as you are, baby girl, I don’t think you know precisely what I got to say, and the truth is, I need you to hear this.” She shut her mouth at that, but still pouted, showing me how skeptical she was.

Chuckling softly, I held her hands in mine before caressing her cheek, trying to show her through the intensity of my gaze that my words were 100% honest. “The reason I got so shocked by what you said was that I was overcome with the desire to do just that. To move in here, with you.”

For a few seconds, no one said anything. It was just her and me, her eyes twice their usual size as she blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what I had just said. “But, Andy…” Sighing, I already knew what she was going to say, so I just squeezed the hand I was still holding, signaling that she didn’t need to say anything yet.

“I know, baby. I know.” I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, hugging her to me and giving a kiss on her forehead, hoping that she could once again understand what I wanted to say, even if I couldn’t yet put it into words. “I just wanted you to know.”

[madaraxwbu]

pairing: dabi x fem!reader

warnings: smut, degradation, rough sex.

☾ ☾ ☾

You're cuddled up to your boyfriend on your sofa, he has a long arm wrapped around you with a bottle of beer in his other hand. There's a movie that you chose playing on the tv, giving the two of you some entertainment. Well, Dabi wasn't as entertained as you were. but, this was what you wanted to watch, so he was willing to sit through it.

The two of you have had a rough relationship, to say the least. It started off well, as all things do. Cute dates, pretty words and promises with fond touches. His hands held the promise of happiness, his lips took away all of your issues.

But then one night, there was a news report whilst you were cleaning the kitchen. You had put down the utensils you were using to devote your full attention to what the news anchor was saying. It seemed that there was a helicopter cam, giving the live news. On the screen, your boyfriend. He was fighting against a hero from the back of a van. At first, you weren't entirely sure if it was him. But when his name was announced, that was the final confirmation for you.

There was an anger that bubbled within you. You felt betrayed and lied to, you couldn't comprehend it. There was never anything he did that gave you the impression that he was a dangerous criminal.

You were infuriated, but you didn't know where to direct the emotions. Were you angry at him from hiding such a pivotal piece of information? Or were you angry at yourself for being naive enough to fall for his lip service? At the time, you weren't entirely sure. You were majorly conflicted, because you adored him. But did you? Or had you fallen in love with the facade that he had put up?

"Babe," he shook you slightly with the hand wrapped around your forearm. You snapped out of your trance, thinking back. When you came back to reality, you saw the ending credits of the movie playing. You blinked twice, shifting to pry yourself out of his hold.

"You wanna watch something else?" You asked him as you leant forward on the sofa, about to stand up. He scoffed affectionately at your question, a half-smirk finding its way onto his mouth.

"Nah," he breathed, "I had a better idea in mind," he pulled you back, manoeuvring you to hoist up onto his lap.

His hands add pressure to your hips a few times before rubbing small circles with his thumbs over them.

You grinned down to him, "oh yeah? What's that?"

"Hmm," he hums whilst tipping his head back, "How about I fuck your brains out? Make you a whimpering mess and fill you with my cum, does that sound good?" He cockily declared. You cocked a single brow, parting your lips to answer.

Before you could, he nipped at your neck and then swiped his tongue over the agitated skin. His hands slid down from your hips to underneath your pyjama shorts.

He gripped your ass cheeks and ground you down onto him so that you could feel the growing erection that he was packing for you.

His hands are deftly operating to keep you grinding against him, the clothed friction working the both of you up.

His azure eyes fixate on the point where your crotches meet, sighing deeply. He jerks you forward to keep you on your toes but then continues with his slow and agonising tempo.

Fingers trail up your back and around your middle as you continue to rock on his crotch without the assistance of his hands. The pads of his fingers skim the top of your shorts.

"Are you a good girl for me?" He hushed to you. You nodded your head hastily in response, "yes."

He tugged on the sides of your shorts, yanking them up and causing the bottom seam to press up harshly against your slit, "then why are these still on?"

He bounces you with the hold on the clothing until you give in, wiggling away from him. You stand in front of him on the sofa, pushing both your shorts and underwear down in one quick motion.

He rests back against the pillows, eyes scanning you as you undressed yourself whilst he did the same to himself. Dabi decided to keep his white top on, but you were completely bare before him.

Dabi beckons you, wanting you to come back to where you initially were. You straddled his lap whilst his scarred hands started to slip under your thighs.

He easily brings you up, making you rub your slit against the smooth head of his cock. You reach your hand down to guide him inside of you, but he does nothing but put the tip in and bounce you on top of it.

"You wanna beg for it, baby?" He cooed up to you. That arrogant look on his face almost irked you, but your lust was far too strong for anything else to infiltrate your mind.

"Dabi, stop fucking around."

"Oh, that doesn't sound like begging?" He pouted up to you, then stopped moving you. A frustrated whine left you, throwing your head back.

"Please! I want nothing more than for you to fuck me with your huge cock and make me cum over and over again, please?" You spoke with a tone laced with purity and neediness, hoping the extra intonation would entice him further.

He stuck his tongue out to lick his lips, then lowering you down on his length.

Your expression twisted with relief, hips twitching in hopes to get more of his dick.

He relishes in your innocent look, thinking that it contrasted him so much. The two of you were like day and night, but you worked so well together.

Now, your facial features were all he needed to know that you were begging for him. Despite your hesitance earlier, now you were easier to get what he wanted out of.

He slams you harshly down on the final inch of his cock, making your ass smack against his hips. You choked out a moan, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and tangling your fingers into the dark hair at the top of his neck.

He loves how responsive you are, how perfectly in-tune the two of you are with one another. With his grips on your thighs, he doesn't have a means to give you some form of punishment, but you don't need it when you're bouncing so willingly on his cock just how he wants it.

Each movement is minimal as Dabi tests the waters, seeing how little it would take to pleasure you. He studies the way your face contorts and body reacts to every bounce on him. It's almost making you melt with how good it feels, and you know that Dabi can give it to you even better than this - it was exhilarating to think about.

You want his long length to work every corner of your pussy, so much so that you dripping wet with desire.

"Slut," he strains as he feels your wet pool around the bottom of his cock. His right hand came left your thigh and gripped your tit, hard.

You whimpered as the mixture of rough and smooth skin rubbed against your flesh. He pulled back slightly, instead taking the piercing that went through your hard bud in between his thumb and index finger.

He twiddled it, revelling in the way your hips bucked hard against him from the unusual pleasure that it had caused you.

Dabi's eyes drift down to his cock, watching how his hips roll into you and taking you. Your eyes plead, begging him to fuck you harder. His movements aren't enough, you feel like you might explode with pent-up frustration if he didn't do something quickly.

Then, his cock snaps into your so suddenly that your body jolts up and a yelp is ripped from your throat. You chuckle breathily from how ecstatic you are from being filled, but the joyous moment doesn't last long as his hands move back down to your thigh and starts ramming into you like you were a cheap whore.

It always startled you how quickly Dabi could shift gears, how rapidly he was pounding you now in comparison to how teasing and slow he was being earlier.

"You like it rough, don't you?" He mocked you, a flare in his eyes, "you like it when I destroy this little cunt of yours, right?"

You nodded jerkily with a whine, "oh god yes!"

The sound of him fucking you seems astoundingly loud in your quiet apartment, but neither of you mind one bit. Who cares if the neighbours could hear? It was nothing they hadn't heard before.

You rock on him with nothing but lust and desire fuelling you, allowing his grasp on your legs to assist you in fucking yourself on him. It's a wonderful sensation for him, and he adores watching how much of a mess you get when you're horny.

"Touch yourself," he ordered you straightly.

Almost immediately, one hand left the back of his neck and darted down to your clit. You started to rub yourself, small but firm circles across your main source of stimulation. You were choking on spurted moans as you worked hard to keep your pace consistent. His cock filled you so nicely, it was unreal.

"D-Dabi!" you moaned as you felt your first orgasm rattle you. Your legs quivered, your head dropping to rest on his shoulder. Your fingers stopped their ministrations on your clit, which Dabi had noticed.

He thrust up into you with an anomalous ferocity, "did I say you could stop touching yourself?"

You shook your head, whimpering as you responded to him, "it's too sensitive!"

"I don't care, touch yourself or I'm going to stop fucking you."

Hou snapped your head away from his shoulder in desperation, shaking your head profusely, "no! Nonononoo, please!" You pleaded as your nimble fingers went back to touching yourself. You were so sensitive and wet that it was almost painful, but the wet made it easier for Dabi to rail you in the way he was.

Your sighs die down to much smaller ones, but each and every one goes straight to his dick. His hands trail up and grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart to spread you wide whilst he used the hold as leverage to fuck up into you like a man possessed.

He was groaning and panting, breathless as he focused on nothing but making sure you were thoroughly fucked. He controls the pace, giving you exactly what you want so that you can cum once more.

His calloused fingers are digging into your ass as his teeth are clenched, thrusts becoming inconsistent and unexpected. The fierce grip on you reminds you who you belong to, who you forgave despite all the lies. Who you love.

Sweat trickles down your back as you thrash in his hold, letting him fuck you like you were a personal toy. Your cunt feels amazing wrapped around him, so tight and aching. One hand grabs a fistful of your hair and drags you down so that your ear is near his lips.

"Cum on my cock, do it right now, you whore," his voice is so dark that you're reminded that he is actually a villain after all.

But right now, you couldn't care less about that. His order makes you lose yourself on him, whimpers bent in your throat as his cock is soaked with your fluids. His eyes find his dick once again, now utterly covered in white substance from your orgasm.

His eyes roll back at the sight, pushing his hips up and pulling you down so that you meet in the middle whilst he releases himself into you.

You're far too sensitive as your mind goes white, eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavy as you collapse on him.

"We should... Probably clean up," he breathed as he let his muscles relax.

[asset35-maya]

Reed900 meet-cute: disciplinary action (3/3)

“Be yourself.”

“What?”

“Just be yourself now.”

Gavin and Nines exchanged incredulous looks. They were approaching the end of the disciplinary workshop. Wasn’t the whole point to not be themselves?

Simon smiled in his usual mild manner. By now they had learnt it could only mean trouble.

“I’ve read your files. Neither of you know how to mince words. Neither of you are gentle.

Your Homicide colleagues consistently complain about your hostility and lack of respect, Detective Reed. And you, Agent Nines. You have a history of being rough with everyone you encounter on the field. Even civilians.

I can see you’ve both been on your best behaviour the past three days. Not sure who you’re trying to impress...”

Simon glanced between them, still smiling sweetly.

“But you can be yourself now.”

He took a step back and waved at the group to begin the last activity:

Jenga.

Giant Jenga.

Pairs vs pairs, with one person blindfolded and the other giving instructions.

Gavin groaned as they found themselves facing Allen and Sixty. The two grinned back, well aware of their competitive advantage. Who could be better coordinated than two SWAT teammates turned lovers?

Definitely not Gavin and Nines.

After a twisted ankle and three fallen jenga towers, Gavin ripped off his blindfold and rounded on Nines. 

“Your directions suck.”

“My directions are fine. It’s not my fault you can’t comprehend them.”

“It’s literally your fault I’m picking the wrong blocks!”

“My communications modules are the most advanced-”

“Shut up and switch with me. I’ll give the instructions. I outrank you anyway.”

Nines took the blindfold coolly.

“I don’t need your instructions. My perception and cognition software is more than enough.”

He shoved past Gavin to get to the tower of blocks. Sixty was waiting for him, smirking.

Nines proceeded to ignore all of Gavin’s barked commands… and fared just as badly as the human had. When their opponents decided to indulge in a makeout session after a particularly spectacular collapse, Nines faced him angrily.

“Stop distracting me!”

“Not that advanced, huh? This is why you should listen to your superiors.”

“Superior? How insecure do you have to be to pull rank in the middle of a bar game?”

Easily inflamed as ever, Gavin barged up to the android.

“The fuck you say to me, plastic? INSECURE? I’ll show you insecure!”

Nines’ LED went bright red. He put his hands on Gavin’s chest and shoved the human out of his personal space.

A scuffle began.

A much needed adrenaline surge after three days of inane indoor activities.

An outlet.

An irrational sense of relief.

A heavy blow to a steel midsection. An uppercut that only narrowly missed a jaw that was broken twice before. A mechanical hand catching a calloused fist.

It ended with Gavin pinned to a wall. There was silence as the other cops stopped tinkering with their block towers. Allen sat down with a sigh and Sixty climbed into his lap to watch the fun.

“Whatcha gonna do, big guy? Snap my neck? They’ll have you shut down in no time.”

There was only a deep growl in response. Gavin struggled against the iron grip.

“That all you got? Try showing off with something you weren’t built with!”

Nines released him immediately and slackened against the wall beside him. He stared at his own hands in shock.

With the return of blood flow to his wrists, Gavin released that he had just put himself in very grave danger. For the second time in his stupid life, he had tried to fight a military grade android. His head suddenly felt sore where Connor had given him a concussion a year ago. It started to sink in that his volatility was a serious problem. He was a danger to himself. Feeling faint, Gavin leaned against the wall.

LED spinning a calm blue, Simon strolled over from where he had been mentoring another group.

“Oh good. That’s what I was waiting for.”

The two merely looked at the blond android, eyes unfocused, chests heaving.

“I honestly thought the SWAT lovebirds would be the pair to implode first, but no matter, this is still a teachable moment. Gather round, everyone.”

The others approached cautiously. The pair looked like they would relapse into violence any second.

“You must have all realised that my activities have little material value themselves. You must be wondering what any part of my workshop has to do with police discipline… Allow me to explain.

Day One served to profile each officer beyond the complaints made against them. I then matched pairs based on the closest personality dysfunctions. Day Two was used to build a working relationship within each pair, and Day Three, today, was the stress test. The intent… was definitely to give everyone a taste of their own medicine… but also to let you all see how exactly your toxic behaviours could have developed… using your partner as a mirror.

Detective Reed and Agent Nines. Let’s unpack what happened here. You’ve gotten to know each other fairly well by now. You recognise each other’s competence and drive. You’ve shared laughs at other people’s expense. You even empathise with each other’s seeming lack of emotional intelligence. I think you might even have taken a liking to each other, no?”

Gavin and Nines chanced a glance at each other. There was a mutual feeling of foolishness. Simon went on.

“You both were on your best behaviour… until you succumbed to your superiority complexes and quick tempers. The only thing different from what usually happens at work was the person on the receiving end. This time, it was someone who could take it… and maybe even someone who deserved it. Detective, it’s been long since someone gave back insults as good your own, no? And Agent Nines, isn’t this is the first time a human has even tried to resist your use of force?”

Sixty had stopped listening and was trying to move Allen’s attention back to himself. The older man had the audacity to shush the android in his lap… and then the second squabble of the day begun. Simon smiled indulgently and held up a finger.

“I’ll be with you two in a moment, gentlemen. Let me wrap things up for this pair.

My point to the both of you is… you might go around thinking you’re the big bad wolf, but there’s always another wolf just around the corner. He might even be bigger. So there’s no pride to be taken in putting down the sheep around you. It’s embarrassing, really. So stop it. My sincere hope is that you will both remember what happened here the next time an impulse to terrorise an innocent colleague arises.

But if you simply must be a wolf… I suggest that you find your pack, for a lone wolf is a danger to himself and everyone around.”

Simon turned away and reached for Sixty’s hand to interface. He then began to break down the reasons for the mutual over-dependence between the SWAT android and his captain.

Gavin and Nines remained slumped against the wall. Even the RK900 seemed exhausted after the emotional rollercoaster they’d been on… from irritation and anger, to shock and bewilderment. Several moments passed and then Gavin suddenly reached within his jacket pocket and produced his phone. He held it out sideways to Nines.

“What?”

“He said to form a pack.”

Nines hesitated, but then quickly touched a finger to the device. Gavin glanced down at the new contact. It was saved as “Alpha 9Z”.

He looked up with a half-smirk, half-snarl on his face and found the same expression mirrored on the android’s face.

[jeff-rees-jones]

Thank you 2021, now let’s move on toward a brighter new future...

None of us know how long we have left and most of us are waiting until the time is 'right' for us to do whatever it is we think we'll enjoy doing in the future, and then we're gone.

 Over the years I've taken many courses, from various modes of counselling to all kinds of therapeutic work as both a student and a tutor and one thing I have discovered to be true is that each and every one of us has issues, some large, some small, we are all a little fucked-up in one way or another and more importantly, it's all about how we deal with those issues that will decide how we function in life.  

Find someone to chat with, share your feelings, but after that you have to be prepared to make some changes, otherwise the same old behaviours will bring about the same old problems, and it isn't always other people, sometimes it's you. 

Here are a few tried and tested small things that have helped me along the way, things you can do to improve your days and the quality of your life and your relationships, small steps but they work very quickly if you can stick with them.

 So far I've failed at every single one of these more than once but hey, let's not make it all about me, this stuff works...

Happiness is a choice every single day.

You are perfectly free to be who you are and to love who you love.

Whatever age you reach, you will never feel grown up.

Learn to be alone and learn to love, or at least like who you are.

Try and feel gratitude for even the smallest stuff in your life.

Lower your expectations of people, no one can live up to your ideals.

Set your boundaries from the start in any kind of relationship.

Judge Love and friendship by what people do and not what they say.

Don't take shit from anyone, speak up and let them know how you feel, but do it kindly.

Try and choose being kind over being right.

Do not... Repeat: Do Not let anyone bully you.

No response is a response.

If they wanted to, they would.

Let them go.

Be good with your word.

Be consistent.

You don't need to be skinny to be attractive or to be loved.

 ALWAYS keep secrets that a friend has shared in confidence, even if they turn out to be a *shit-bag.*(Other words are available)

Never make someone a priority if they only think of you as an option.

 Sometimes chocolate and wine can be the perfect food choice.

Don't ignore red flags in someone's behaviour, they're showing you who they are.

When someone shows you who they are...believe them, don't make excuses on their behalf.

The best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour. (read that again)

Sometimes punching someone in the throat is an option.

Don't carry the past with you, it's too heavy and you're not going in that direction.

You are never too old and it's never too late.

Holding onto anger only hurts you.

You are already good enough.

You deserve love and respect.

Sometimes the kindest thing you can do is to include someone.

Everything changes, everything.

It eventually gets better.

Stay hopeful.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 6]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“I don’t wanna look like this, fuck”

Previously on Never Satisfied:

Digital Checkpoint activated. Reply to save progress. 💜 — Cora

With minimal contemplation he replies seconds later.

Corpse: save

Cora: your progress has been saved. Thank you for choosing A.S.S. - the Automated Save System. You are now free to activate the digital checkpoint at any time. 

Cora: I had a nice time. Text me whenever you need to. We’ll hang out again soon, deal?

Corpse: thank you

Cora: anytime sugar ;)

Funny how a text exchange so simple and short can turn so much around for a person. Funny how a huge weight lifts off him the second he locks his phone, suddenly finding it easier to breathe, to move, to blink, to function - to live. She gives him that kick he needs to be reminded to live and not just be alive. He’s still not comfortable with how much he’s relying on her but seeing her effect on him is nothing but positive, the most and best thing he can do for himself is go with the flow and let things happen. No overthinking, no planning, no shooting guesses, just facing things as they come face-to-face with him. He may never get used to it, but he won’t know that until he tries, will he?

                                                            *  *  *

Corpse sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s been trying to step up a little with the dressing game since he’ll be having a special guest over - ok, truth be told, he didn’t invite her, she invited herself but he’s glad she did. Lord knows he wants her company and wants her around but he could never bring himself to invite her over or initiate a hangout. Good thing Cora doesn’t expect anything from him, not of that nature at least. It’s oddly amazing having a person like her - someone who basically reads his mind like an open book and then takes action according to what she’s read. It’s not only the fact that she accurately gauges all his wants and needs, but also how she knows exactly what to do to satisfy them. To calm him down, to relieve his anxiety, to make him feel comfortable. He feels strangely selfish for always being on the receiving end of this friendship, although he doesn’t see much he could do for her. He’s decided to let time have full control of the course of their relationship, hoping his giver time would come soon.

As of now, however, it still hasn’t and he can stomach that.

It’s been about a week and a half since their first hangout but he hasn’t missed her once. That may be due to how much they’ve been texting ever since he unlocked that checkpoint she offered him. To be more specific, it probably has something to do with the fact that her texts are always so full of life and light, sounding almost like she’s there with him, talking in her signature upbeat and bubbly way which is such a contrast to his own melancholic approach to any conversation ever. 

She’s also sent him a ton of memes and selfies, plus pictures she took of clients’ pets. In return for her kindness, he’s sent her bad jokes, weird internet articles about ghosts and pictures of the current game he was playing. Needless to say, their chats have been very colorful.

Now that the scene has been set up a little better, a direct timeline of events lading up to this one would be appreciated, wouldn’t it? Ok so, it all started with an “I’m bored” text Corpse received from Cora about two hours ago. Instinctively, and partially because he didn’t have any idea what else he could possibly say in response to that he sent back an apology. An apology Cora apparently deemed a loophole she could use to invite herself over cause that’s exactly what she did, not that Corpse minds it much. In fact, he felt his heartbeat quicken with excitement when her “K then, I’ll be there in a bit :)” text came in. At first he thought it was his anxiety kicking in but when he realized the rest of his typical symptoms remained absent it took him a little while to pinpoint what that emotion could be.

The epiphany came in the form of the word ‘excitement’.

Regardless of the newfound feeling, or maybe exactly because of it, he attempted to protest. A protest she killed easily with a threatening “I know where you live” text which sent Corpse scrambling to get the apartment in some kind of order. Himself too, it’s safe to say he wasn’t looking the most presentable when he received that message. 

His cleaning session consisted mostly of him shoving the strewn about items in his closet and closing it shut like a wild beast dwelled inside, placing a chair in front of the door as a sign for her not to open it and also as a way of preventing the thing from opening on its own because of how overflowing it was. 

Afterwards he scrambled into the shower to scrub himself down. It’d been too much for him to tackle given he wasn’t doing too well mentally, but considering he was now suddenly expecting company he thought it’d be for the best not to subject his new friend to the three-day-unshowered Corpse stank. 

Right now, his main focus is his face, his stomach sinking at the sight of himself in the mirror’s reflection. 

How does she even want to see me? 

His mirror is cracked along the right side, spider web-like cracks reaching towards the center of it from the impact point serving as a reminder of a particularly bad night he’d rather forget.

He sighs as he combs his hair, knowing the dark curls won’t oblige and behave no matter how much he tries. He touches his jaw, deciding to let himself off the hook by deeming that a shave wouldn’t be necessary for at least another day. And then his eyes land on his clothes - an outfit it didn’t take him long to put together since those are the only articles of clothing in his closet he’d consider presentable enough to be shown off in front of a new friend who is yet to find out how much of a slob he really is. That clothing choice consists of a black button-up shirt and jeans. 

This is nice, right? It’s fine. It’s business casual but definitely leaning more towards casual, as some would say. I look...nice, decent. I’ll take it - it’s enough. Far better than my ‘usual’.

A knock at the door startles him, though it’s quickly followed by a voice he’s grown to find very endearing: 

“THIS IS THE COPPAS! OPEN UP YA’ DOOR!” The voice yells out, probably loud enough for the whole complex to hear but it’s not like he gives a shit. And, as context clues show, neither does she.

Corpse exits his bathroom, heading for the front door, pulling the chain off and unlocking the deadbolt before opening it. The object of his newfound affection stands on the other side, grinning and beaming with that usual light she has surrounding her. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun - a hairstyle she seems to love - and she’s wearing a simple red t-shirt covered in little chubby, cartoonish black cats that seem to be struggling to exist. 

He smiles a little, finding it in himself to speak up but when he opens his mouth to do so, she cuts him off.

“Jesus, did you just come back from a funeral?” She asks, pulling at one of the buttons on his chest as she walks past him, letting herself in. 

His eyes, completely on their own accord, wander down as she walks on by, causing him to swallow hard as he finds himself staring at a pair of tanned legs, patterned by the fishnets she’s wearing, leading up to a pair of short black shorts. 

She turns on her heel about halfway down the hall, leading him to take an inevitable notice of how her well-loved boots could use a polish. Anyhow, he snaps his gaze away to hide the fact he’s been gawking, despite not really meaning to.

“No, but for real, why are you wearing that? You seem super confined and uncomfy, bud.”

Corpse blinks before swallowing and glancing down at himself, pulling at the button she touched before looking back up, his gaze traveling up the length of her legs. She has suspenders hanging over her thighs, more of an accessory than a necessary addition to her outfit. “I just...I dunno, I thought it looked nice. Does it not? I mean, I wouldn’t know, really. I don’t usually dress like this.”

“I mean, you look dapper as fuck but if you’re not comfortable then change, get your comfy game on. I’m the last person you need to impress in this world.”

God, she sees right through him. Even so, he considers protesting, trying to convince it’s all fine, that he likes this shirt and the outfit in its entirety. But her stare sets the record straight for him - she’ll know it’s all lies. And with that in mind, he lets his shoulders fall. Not a full second passes before he promptly starts undoing his buttons. 

“Oh, thank fuck.”  She comments as he  goes to retreat into his room, stripping the shirt off as he walks, unaware of her lingering eyes on his back, unaware of her lower lip bitten between her pearly teeth. Unaware of the subtle shift in her stance as she looks him over much like he did her moments earlier.

When he returns a moment later in a simple dark grey t-shirt, she greets him with a grin and pats his chest. “Much better.”

It doesn’t take long for them to decide to crash on his couch, throw on a bad movie and just sit in comfortable silence. Comfortable silence - something that usually eats away at him and is anything but comfortable he now sees as calming, a soothe to his ever-racing mind. 

Disrespecting the movie, Corpse takes to analyzing his guest instead. She has so much confidence, he can’t help but notice, like she’s been here hundreds of times, known him for so long. He hates her a little for it. Well, it’s not quite hate, it leans more toward envy. Jealousy. That human-nature characteristic of wanting what someone else has but you desperately need/wish you had. In his mind, she’s almost selfish: Why couldn’t she share some of that confidence and carefree manner with the rest of the world? It oozes out of her like a drip of honey from a beehive, sweet and warm. And all he wants yet has none of.

He instinctively tenses up as he feels her move closer before, suddenly, her head drops into his lap, legs kicked over the armrest of the couch. He holds his breath almost subconsciously, staring at her as she remains focused on the television. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he puts one across the back of the couch and the other awkwardly bent above his head. He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea if he touches her. He doesn’t want to come off as a creep nor does he want to overstep any of her boundaries, despite the fact she’s walking a dangerous line of overstepping his. Well, that would’ve been the case if this was done by anyone but her. The way Corpse comes to this realization is when he figures out that he really doesn’t mind this proximity, as long as he doesn’t embarrass himself or creep her out in any way.

What felt like an eternity passes before she finally speaks up, still without looking away from the movie playing on the screen opposite the couch, “You know, I can feel how tense you are.” 

His face flushes with embarrassment, heating up as his mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome of this situation.

She’ll probably sit up, or leave, he thinks to himself, heart thumping in his ears as he tries to observe her face the best he can from this angle. Nevertheless, he swallows that fear as she rolls her head to look up at him with those large glittering doe eyes, grinning a bit as she seems to always do, “You can just put your hands wherever it’s comfortable for you. I don’t mind.”

He hesitates for a moment but, as always, he doesn’t get much say cause she makes the choice for him, knowing that pesky fear is keeping him immobile. She takes the hand from over his head and pulls it down to rest just next to her skull. She then drags the one resting at the back of the couch, placing it so his hand is resting dead-center on her stomach. Satisfied with how she’s rearranged his posture, she goes back to watching the movie but not before asking: “This okay?” while looking at him through her peripheral vision. 

He’d have to admit it’s far more comfortable like this.

“Yeah, it’s fine. You’re okay?” He asks, feeling relieved when he feels her nod against his leg. 

He moves his hand a little and swallows hard as he contemplates if he really should make the move he’s thinking of at the moment. And then he abruptly decides not to think. So, instead, he acts on it. 

Without thinking of any potential negative consequences, Corpse slides his fingers to lace with hers, resting their conjoined hands on her stomach in the same spot where she left his hand a bit ago. She curls her digits around his tighter as reassurance that it’s ok. Her palm feels warm in his hand, her thumb tracing his cold metal rings. 

Checkpoint...his checkpoint. 

Is this what it feels like to be normal?, he wonders, Is this what it feels like to really connect with someone? He has never felt this before. He’s never met someone who has such an effect on him, understand him like this - Without even having to ask she grounded him; she knew what he needed and didn’t make him feel like an idiot about it. Instead she gave him the comfort he needed.

And suddenly he finds himself afraid - realizing that this isn’t simply a vibe of two buddies hanging out. He has that subtle ache in his chest that’s telling him he wants something…something substantial from this friendship. He wants this to last, or for it to blossom, he’s not sure yet. But for the first time, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to figure it out. That’s one of the many effects this girl has on him - she’s the definition of improvisation, unpredictable and alive. He’s slowly learning to let loose himself, all thanks to her. Slowly, he’s learning to trust time. 

He abruptly realizes he’s glancing at her often as the movie is still running, examining her features and slowly running his gaze down the length of her fishnet-clad thighs before quickly looking away, mentally scolding himself. It’s hard, but he manages to turn his gaze elsewhere for his sake and hers. For the sake of keeping things normal, platonic and not in any way awkward for either of them. The last thing he needs is to make things weird by letting his mind wander and activate his libido and then she’d really notice how tense he is. 

Cora remains oblivious to what’s going on in his head, thank God, as she continues running her thumb across his knuckles, eyes half lidded in calm content - something that’d typically seem like the complete opposite of what she is. He likes seeing her like this, tamed almost. He feels like no one else has had the privilege to see this calm side of her. Maybe that’s not the truth - it probably isn’t - but he still feels special, knowing that it’s a tight circle of people who have seen her this way.

And then he realizes the movements of her thumb on his hand have stopped.

He freezes for a moment, his fearful gaze travelling to her face where he’s relieved to find her eyes closed only seconds before he hears a light snore escape her.

She’s fallen asleep.

It’s an odd scene. She’s such a wild and free spirit, seeing her fall asleep like this is like observing an abnormality, a paranormal event. You know, like something one doesn’t usually believe exists or is capable of happening. He’d never before been able to imagine her asleep. It’s ridiculous, he’s aware - she’s human after all, but his mind has never been able to comprehend the thought and image of her captured by the power of sleep. He simply couldn’t see it happening. But now that it’s happened in front of him, he can’t look away from the sight of her relaxed, peaceful features, overcome by sudden slumber.

And then he comes to the realization that he’s now practically held hostage on his own couch, crippled by the danger of waking her up. It’s gonna be a long while, isn’t it, he thinks to himself, yet there’s still a satisfied smile on his face. A smile that’s a result of knowing he’s held hostage by her. That’s more a blessing than a curse, if he’s being honest.

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

[luxekook]

chapter three.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader (insert gif of elmo with flames behind him here)

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, jimin propositions the reader accidentally, taehyung is a menace, noona kink jumps out A LOT, chaotic ot7, talk of poly relationships, overall kinda smut free (the next chapter should quench fuel your thirst)

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Three

“It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

We’re going to date the shit out of you.

We’re. Going. To. Date. The. Shit. Out. Of. You.

Those words play on a constant loop in my head for the rest of the week. After Namjoon had dropped that bombshell on me, I’d kind of freaked the fuck out, faked an immediate illness, and ran at full speed.

When I had told Luna about it later that night, she had been just as shook as me. Surprisingly enough, she had also given her full support of whatever I decided to do but “would have her banana slicer on standby and would order six more if need be”.

It appears that she had drunk-ordered a banana slicer off Amazon when the last boy she talked to pissed her off. I had apparently drunk-approved the decision. Rad.

Jenni’s reaction had been even better. We’d been in the library on Monday and her screech of “he said what!?” had led to multiple events:

An abundance of shushes from every student within a 50-yard radius

Her continued rant: “Your own personal harem! Can you say goals? Maybe I should infiltrate EXO and collect my own...”

Us getting kicked out by our ancient librarian

For the rest of the week, I had Luna and Jenni both giving me shit about the BTS boys. It had helped that I hadn’t run into them at all on campus between classes. But I had known it wouldn’t be long before my luck would run out...

Quinn Library – 2:31pm

Typically, I don’t spend my Friday afternoons deep within the stacks of the library’s quiet floor. Yet, here I sit typing frantically due to my incapability to stop procrastinating. My fingers fly over the keys of my aging MacBook in hopes that whatever spur of productivity I had going on is captured in its fullest.

General education classes could burn in the pits of hell as far as I'm concerned. If I wanted to be a psychiatrist, why did I have to take – and pay for – an art elective that I would likely never utilize in the workforce? Plus, the only class within the category that fit my schedule ended up being “Writing About Dance”.

Yeah, I’m still a tad bitter, but in all honesty the class isn’t that bad so far. It mainly consists of watching different dance performances and learning how to write about them in different styles.

Today’s assignment is to write critical commentary on videos of the university’s dance team that the professor provided for us. Sighing, I finish my review of the second to last dance video provided by the professor, take a quick second to stretch, and then open the link to the last video on the assignment page.

“Park Jimin – Final Performance Solo, Spring 2019”

Slack-jawed, I fall into wonder as Jimin moves through his routine flawlessly. He dances like it’s easier than walking to him. His movements are somehow precise and fluid all at once. I barely realize a few tears have run down my cheeks until the video cuts off, signaling the end of Jimin’s performance.

Jesus, (y/n), get it together. I laugh lightly as I dig in my backpack for a tissue. How could I possibly capture the ethereal beauty that Jimin exuded into words? Am I even worthy of commenting on such exquisiteness?

Definitely fucking not. And before I can second guess myself, I type: “Park Jimin is art in its purest form. Watching him dance is like watching the sun rise over the ocean – raw beauty accompanied by the hopes brought with a new day. His performance left me wanting for nothing except an encore.”

Boom. Submit Assignment.

As my email pings with the confirmation that my assignment is turned in, my eyes widen in realization. Park Jimin of BTS is a dance god, and he – allegedly – wants to date me? That is just ridiculously unfathomable.

Namjoon must be off his rocker.

Closing my laptop, my phone suddenly vibrates with an incoming notification from snapchat...

President_RM has added you!

Before I can even comprehend the absurdity of Namjoon adding me, my phone bursts into a series of buzzes. Cursing, I switch my phone to silent and check my screen.

minsuga93 has added you!

jhopeworld_ has added you!

handsomeJIN has added you!

JKookie97 has added you!

vantae_BTS has added you!

95jiminie has added you!

Are they serious? How did they even get my SnapChat username?

vantae_BTS has added you to a chat!

Curiosity wins out over aggravation as I swipe to open the chat.

Heart pounding, I fight the urge to chuck my phone into the depths of the bookcases winding around the room. What did those idiots want with me?

(y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 9:45pm

“What do those idiots want with me?” the decibel my voice has risen to is shocking even to my ears.

Luna cringes, accordingly, “I can’t tell if that’s a rhetorical question...”

I steamroll onwards, “And don’t even get me started on how they could have even gotten my snapchat. It’s a complete invasion of privacy!”

“You could just ask them,” Jenni’s voice cuts through my rambling tirade.

I pause, “No, I couldn’t—”

...Or could I?

Turning on my heel, I rush into my room and head straight for my closet. Grabbing the nearest sweatshirt and pair of leggings, I tug them on and then grab my keys from my nightstand.

Whirling back into the living room, I storm past a dumbfounded Luna and Jenni, “Be right back.”

Opening the apartment door, Luna shouts, “Wait! Where are you going? You’re not even wearing shoes!”

Whoops. I glance at my feet and note that she is, in fact, correct.

Jenni bounds over to me holding my Doc Martens, “Here, babe. You’re going to the BTS house, aren’t you?”

I nod grimly and salute my two best friends as if I'm going into battle. “I won’t be long. I just have a small errand to run.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Luna declares, pulling on her sneakers.

Jenni snorts and shoves her feet into her beat-up Converse, “No way am I missing out on this action.”

As we head out the door, I link arms with Luna and Jenni, “Have I mentioned I love you both recently?”

“Right back at you, bitch,” Luna laughs.

Greek Row – 10:17pm

Ten minutes later, we reach Greek Row. Fraternity and sorority houses dot the street on both sides. Personally, I think of this street as home to the chaotic rich, and I tend to avoid it at all costs – except tonight.

The line to get into BTS is so long it wraps around the block. Students dressed in the latest fashions converse as they wait, huddling together in their groups. I glance down at my outfit of a worn university hoodie and leggings.

“Well, shit. We’re underdressed, huh,” Jenni deadpans, causing all three of us to burst into laughter, “Do you think they put you on the list, (y/n)?”

Pondering that thought, I shrug, “Maybe,” and begin marching past the line of waiting students towards the front door of BTS, “But I sure as fuck am not waiting in that line.”

“Hey, there’s a line here!”

“Yo, bitches! What are you doing?”

“What the fuck?”

Paying the hecklers no mind, I saunter right up to the BTS pledges guarding the door, “Hi, I need to talk to Kim Namjoon.”

The pledge on the right rakes his gaze over me incredulously and then makes the same assessment of Luna and Jenni, “You know this is a party, right?”

I don’t deem that comment worthy of a response and instead cross my arms over my chest. He shrinks under the collective glare of me, Luna and Jenni.

The pledge on the left awkwardly clears his throat, “Names, please?”

My answer barely escapes my lips before the pledges visibly straighten, looking at me with new eyes, “You’re (y/n)? Why didn’t you just say so?”

And before I can answer, the front door swings open for us.

People are everywhere. A haze of smoke looms in the air, and rap music blares from the speakers. The bass is turned up so loud that the beat seems to take over the rhythm of my pulse. That cannot be healthy.

Turning to my friends, I do my best to communicate, shouting, “I’m going to find them! Are you going to be here?”

Luna and Jenni exchange a look and nod. Jenni shouts back, “We’re going to get some drinks. Might as well capitalize on free booze! Text us when you’re ready to go.”

And with that, we part ways.

Maneuvering around the sea of gyrating bodies in the main living room area, I scan around for any signs of my seven menaces.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Or is that my future wife?” The deep voice booms from behind me.

I sigh, recognizing the voice, and turn around.

Kim Taehyung is striding towards me with his arms outstretched, smiling like the damned fool he is and looking like he just stepped off the runway for Gucci. “Come to daddy.”

An idea forms. I smile sweetly and walk to meet Taehyung halfway. His boxy grin widens and just as he thinks I'm going to let him wrap his arms around me, I grab him by the ear.

“Ouch!” He cries, “Devil-woman!”

Ignoring him, I drag him behind me towards the stairs.

“If you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked—OW!”

My hold on his ear tightens as we arrive on the second-floor landing, “Where are your brothers?”

“I don’t know, n-noona!” Somehow the honorific coming from Tae sounds divine, but I file that thought away for another time.

Removing my hold, I corner him against the wall of the hallway, “Okay, Kim, here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to point me in the direction of your room, go find your six idiot brothers, and then report back here so I can finally understand what the fuck is going on. Got it?”

My chest heaves as my directions conclude and I realize how close together we are. Taehyung stares at me with an indecipherable expression before breaking into a slow smile, “Noona is bossy.”

“Noona is going to shove her foot up your ass if you don’t get moving,” I growl.

“Kinky,” he laughs, backing away from me and my brewing anger, “Last door on the left is my room. I’ll be back with the six idiots.”

As he thumps back down the steps, I close my eyes and count to ten, trying to steel my nerves and rein in my anger. When I open them, my eyes are met with the amused gaze of Min Yoongi.

Slapping a hand to my heart, I wait for my pulse to settle from being scared out of my wits, “Motherfuck—how did you even move that silently?”

“It’s a skill,” Yoongi drawls, nodding towards to end of the hall, “So, group meeting in Tae’s room?”

Shooting him the best side-eye I can muster, I stalk past him, steadfastly ignoring the chuckles and light footfalls that follow behind me.

Throwing open the door which Taehyung indicated was to his room, I pause, taking in the horde of photos and art taped to the four walls. The light blue wallpaper barely peeks through the absolute massive amount of artwork.

“It’s overwhelming at first, isn’t it?” An angelic voice shyly breaks through my reverie, “Tae likes to collect pictures and things he finds beautiful.”

“Ah, so that’s why we’re friends.” The joke is followed by a laugh that can only be compared to the sound of a windshield wiper squeakily moving back and forth.

I shift my eyes from Taehyung’s walls and onto the two newcomers – Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin.

Meeting Seokjin’s gaze first, I cannot help but agree that he is a very, very beautiful man. With pushed back dark hair, mischievous brown eyes and impossibly broad shoulders, Seokjin can easily be mistaken for an idol. And, oh fuck, I’m still staring.

Shooting my eyes back up to his, I crinkle my nose at his shit-eating grin. Before he can even comment, I turn and lock eyes with Jimin.

“Your dancing is gorgeous,” I blurt out and immediately want to crawl under a rock and live out the rest of my life as Patrick Star.

Yoongi and Seokjin are cackling as Jimin’s face lights up at my embarrassing compliment, “You really think so?”

“There's no shutting him up now,” Yoongi is in tears, “Watch out, (y/n). Jimin loves his fans.”

“Shut up, Yoongi-hyung!”

Jimin looks ready to swing, but luckily Taehyung chooses the right moment to return, “What have we missed? Why is Jiminie about to fight Yoongi? I’ll put $10 on hyung.”

Gasping in betrayal, Jimin sits on the edge of Tae’s bed and pouts.

The rest of the boys file in behind Taehyung as he flops down onto his bed and reclines like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Hi, (y/n). Good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here,” Namjoon greets me with a slight bow, a crooked smile and wicked eyes.

He’s followed closely by Jung Hoseok, the only BTS boy I hadn’t met thus far, “(y/n)! It’s so nice to meet you in person! Wow, you look so pretty tonight!”

“Noona always looks pretty,” Jungkook cuts in, throwing an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, “She’s bae.”

A collective groan arises from the rest of the boys. “Sit your ass down, JK,” Yoongi grumbles, “(y/n)’s going to break up with us before we even start dating.”

“Dating—!” I break off that train of thought. Other matters need to be attended to first, “No, I didn’t come here tonight to say ‘hi’ or to be your ‘bae’. I came here to get answers.”

I take my time making eye contact with each boy.

Taehyung is still spread out on his bed and Jimin has now joined him. Seokjin, Hoseok and Jungkook are sprawled out on the floor at the foot of the bed, while Namjoon and Yoongi slouch against the opposite wall of the bedroom facing me.

“Alright,” Namjoon lifts his chin, meeting my stare head on, “What do you want to know?”

a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger, hehe. i wanted to get something up for y’all! hopefully next chapter won’t take too long to finish/edit :)

taglist:

@hazeljrz @sessi03 @catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles@leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak  @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx​ @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @doingmybestalltheftime @elraeee @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @aokay1010 @breeeeh17 @lpayne612 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel  @valiantcollectorofsandwiches​ @cage7241​

blogs that wouldn’t let me tag them for some reason: 

@awkwardhumambean

[hoseokmylovesworld]

Sway Me More | Mafia!Jungkook (M)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x Assassin!OC  

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

Requested: Anonymous:

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

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

Length: 15,664k Words

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

A/N:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taehyung paused. “You wouldn’t.” 

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

“Sure thing, boss.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s leaving.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wonderful.” He sighed sarcastically into his earpiece. 

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

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

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

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

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

“They were chasing me.” She shrugged.

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

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

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

Her cocky smirk dissipates but doesn't completely disappear. 

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

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

“By who?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes.” 

“Does your employer know who I am?” 

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

“What do they—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deathstalker.” Wow, Jungkook thought to himself. 

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

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

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

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

“You like me.” She settled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When Marimba Rhythms start to play

Dance with me 

Make me sway

Then he pounced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You tell me—” 

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

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

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close

Sway me more

“I have a proposition for you.” 

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

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

“How did you know my last—” 

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

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

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

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

Like a flower bending in the breeze

Bend with me, sway with ease

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When we dance you have a way with me

Stay with me, sway with me

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

“So you’ll do it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re infuriating, you know tha—” 

“And you make me wanna vomit.” 

“You’re projecting.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you gonna sleep with him tonight?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” He finally answered.

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

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

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

“No, Kook—”

“Don’t call me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, fine. Why?”

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

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

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

“In a suit?” Taehyung replied, confusedly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get the fuck out of my office.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To which she immediately responded, “Yes sir.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[saffron-nova21]

XIX. Secret Tours

Remember Me Masterlist

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

Warnings: Strong language

A/N: I know, I’m so sorry about the lack of a read more, I might try to add one later, but currently, they aren’t working on my phone and my laptop is out of commission. I’m really, really sorry, guys.

...

With a sweet, but sleepy, smile plastered on your lips, you step away from the train with Atsumu, your bag slung over your shoulder, finding yourself excited to meet Tetsurō in person. You might not have known him for very long, nor had you met him in person yet, but all he’d been was a good friend to you. One you had come to need and depend on, with all that had been going on in your life. All of those lonely days, who had texted you and grounded you throughout all of it? Not your brother, not any of your team mates, no... It had been a stranger you’d met through Twitter, by pure coincidence.

He was the one who had knocked some sense into you to stop giving Rintarō chances. He was the one who talked you into telling Atsumu what had happened, rather than continuing to allow yourself to be manipulated. He had been the one to tell you that quitting volleyball club and practicing on your own would be best, with the way the other team members continuously made you feel like shit and gave you the cold shoulder.

When you spot he and his best friend standing there, the latter with a game in his hands, you nearly jump out of your skin as a jolt of excitement runs through you.

Looking at who who assumed to be Kenma, you found yourself touched that Kenma continuously glanced up to search for you, immediately getting the sense that he probably didn’t do that very often.

You end up walking towards them without a word to your best friend. Though Atsumu would tease you later on, saying you were borderline running to the two. When they caught sight of you, Kenma and Tetsurō go bug-eyed for a moment. Kenma’s arms fall a bit as his attention shifts to you, completely.

Both of them were quickly able to come to one conclusion: Any pictures of you did you no justice.

As you reach them, you stop just short of them, having to retrain yourself from leaping on them both... They’d been so good to you, it only felt normal to want to hug them.

“Hi,” you grin at them both, effectively breaking their momentarily stunned silence, your smile shining nearly as brightly as the sun.

A grin emerges on Tetsurō’s face as he shakes his head and offers open arms, to which you nearly jump in, hugging him tightly. Very quickly, he had become your anchor, being there for you and believing in you, when even your team lost faith in you and you could only hope your embrace conveyed all of the emotions that you couldn’t voice.

Hugging Tetsurō felt like hugging an old friend, or an older brother you never got to see. His embrace felt warm and it made this sense of security wash over you that you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“Ready to go?”

“Of - fucking - course I am!” Your voice attracts the attention of people around you and makes Kenma look back down at his screen, being knocked from his trance. He hadn’t been staring, he hadn’t been staring, he hadn’t been stari — “I get to come and play volleyball with some of Tokyo’s best. Not to mention, Tokyo has some other-worldly pretty setters.”

Kenma doesn’t respond, his head just shooting up to give you a brief, almost confused glance look before returning his attention to his gaming device.

Though you don’t miss the reddening of his ears.

“Yeah, I meant you, Kenma, baby.” You grin, finally slipping from Tetsurō’s embrace to look at Kenma, who looks at you again.

Momentarily, the faux-blonde looks confused, before he lets out a small exhale, opening his own arms to you. Moving forward, you embrace him, without a care in the world that you hardly knew him. And as he rests his chin on your shoulder, you miss the slight smile that forms on his lips.

Pulling away after a moment, you allow Kenma back to his game, “You guys give some amazing fucking hugs. Just thought you should know.” You inform them, before turning to face an oddly quiet Atsumu.

You always complimented people a lot and borderline flirted with everyone around you, until you and Suna started dating. And now, you were back to being your normal flirty self.

Though Atsumu was the same way, consistently flirting with everything that breathed.

You both weren’t together, you’d just been flirting, putting your past feelings out in the open, and opening the doors to a relationship between you both maybe having a relationship one day.

There was nothing exclusive between you both, as far as you were aware. Not to mention that he was still talking up a storm with his fan club, just yesterday.

But apparently you were wrong.

...

You shouldn’t have been as excited as you were about touring Nekoma High. You’d be transferring for your final year of high school, leaving behind all of the people you’d met. Leaving, even if Suna could regain his memories any day now, leaving even though you and Atsumu had only just laid out all of your feelings out on the table, together.

As you approach the large gym, a smile forms on your face, eyes shining as if you’d just opened a present. Everyone around you could see the way you picked up your pace and held your head up higher, even if you didn’t quite notice it.

Entering the gym, you looked around, glancing at all of the people who looked towards you at your entrance. As much as you wanted to shy away from the attention, you couldn’t, just grinning as Tetsurō comes to stand next to you.

The realization seems to hit them, the teams walking over to speak and introduce themselves.

You were so caught up that you didn’t notice the way Atsumu watched you. Even though he introduced himself and conversed with his normal lazy smirk, he couldn’t miss the way you smiled.

For so many weeks, your smiles had been half-hearted. They hadn’t quite reached your eyes, and everyday, it seemed like you were dragging your feet, just waiting, wishing the days would come to an end. So how could he miss your first genuine smile in weeks? How could he miss the way your eyes lit up, while you looked around? How could he miss the way you spoke to them excitedly, without having to hold your tongue for fear of people attacking you for what you said? How could he miss the way you clicked so easily with these people?

That's the thing. He couldn't.

...

"I think you'll really like the people here, too. Of course, every high school can have a toxic atmosphere, but it hasn't really ever gotten half as bad over here as what you've had to deal with, in the past months." Tetsurō explains with a grin playing on his lips.

"Over here are some of our other clubs. I assumed you'd be signing up for the volleyball club, but in case you truly wanted a clean break, here you are." Reaching a hand to the bulletin, he pulls off one of the many sheets, filled with different clubs. "Do you want to look at the classrooms, or would you rather tour the courtyard?"

Thinking momentarily, you roll your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, "Honestly, you said it yourself, the Chemistry classroom was the most interesting and you already showed it to me, so the courtyard sounds best."

With a nod and a teasing smirk cast in your direction, a 'this way, your highness' came from your friend.

Walking to the courtyard with Tetsurō, you smile, "So... Kenma. He's... Interesting."

The Captain goes bug-eyed at your words, though it's hidden behind a curtain of messy black hair, from the angle you're looking at him. He quickly hides it with a discreet shake of his head. "What happened to that setter of yours, that you were so in-love with?"

Embarrassment floods you, your face growing warm as your bring a hand to rub the back of your neck. "What-?" Your feigned ignorance doesn't fly with your new friend, though, who makes you drop your 'act' with a knowing look. "Look, I love Atsumu... But am I in love with him?" You sigh. "I told him that it might be possible that I attempted to move on with him... But I know how he's going to take it, when I tell him I'm changing schools.

"I love Atsumu, I do... But I know him better than anyone else. Except for maybe Osamu. And knowing him so well means knowing that he's not going to want to accept it. He's going to think I'm abandoning him and lash out. Then he'll feel guilty, but won't apologize, because he's prideful."

Tetsurō furrows his brows, looking at you, "Then what are you going to do? Just not say anything when you disappear, next school year?"

Looking around, you smile a bit up at the bright blue sky. A few fluffy white clouds decorated it, but otherwise, it was nothing but clear skies. It almost made you forget the fact that Atsumu wouldn't be able to handle you moving schools. He'd nearly lost his shit when you had changed middle schools and the only way that he had kept his cool was knowing you'd be going to the same high school together.

"I don't know."

Tetsurō nods a bit in understanding, opting not to say much more on the topic.

As Tetsurō continued to give you the tour, neither of you noticed the texts from Kenma, warning you that Atsumu had left the gym in search of 'the bathroom' and hadn't come back.

And you would soon find yourself regretting not checking your phone.

Tetsurō honestly hopes that you and Kenma get along. He worries about Kenma, for after he goes to university, and knowing that he's leaving someone behind who will make sure Kenma takes care of himself makes him feel a lot better.

Atsumu wants you happy. But he wants you happy with him. Even if you're not dating, he knows distance can ruin friendships.

You know that you're attracted to Kenma - of course, you wouldn't call it a crush since you only just met him, but you do want to get to know him more.

I hope you guys are enjoying, still!

You guys better be eating some food, drinking some water, and taking care of yourselves mentally and physically. But remember, no matter what, I'm proud of you and I love you. You're doing great, today. Even if you just got out of bed, keep it up, because you're doing great, alright? Things will get better, I promise.

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