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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 3 years

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New York High Rise {3}

Series summary; What does Steve think of what just happened? Well, not only will his next client get to know but also a dear friend of the mob boss.

Pairing: mob!Steve x mob!reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 3/5

Word; 6.2k

Warnings; canon type violence, death, anything you could expect from a mafia!au

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I just want to warn anyone, this chapter revolve around Steve and contains graphic scenes so if anyone feel like they may get triggered, I have now warned you. If you choose to read anyways it is YOUR choice.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Steve was fuming. He could practically feel the steam rising from the top of his head. This time, compared to earlier, it wasn't because of the feverish warmth inside the club. Nor the sunny season's air outside. It was because of the folder resting on the table.

The Canine boss could still hear the echoing slap the orderly stacked papers had done when landing on the table. Even your words reverberated in his head like an annoying tune he couldn't help but mutely sing in his mind.

This was not how he'd thought this meeting would go.

Steve had planned to get his will through, to expand his empire from Brooklyn to the most successful part of New York, Manhattan, your territory. But no. You'd decided to be as stubborn as a mule and as stuck up as the bureaucrats that he needed to handle in exclusive deals.

Now he understood why so many said your empire wasn't the usual kind, rather something new. You'd built your syndicate from the best, or worst in regard of how the Canine for the moment saw you, of two worlds.

"Bitch", you were long gone, so the growled curse aimed at you went unheard. However, the walls around Steve caught the profanity he uttered whilst snagging the folder from the table and pursued to head out of the room.

Only the guards stationed outside the corridor leading to the conference room was still in the club. Yet, the Canine boss paid them no mind as he stalked out of the private area, making them scramble to follow him. The rest of his party, even those previously undercover, must have either retreated for the night or waited outside. Concerning how Steve himself hadn't left yet, he suspected at least his most trusted team was waiting by the car.

Passing through the lobby, the mob boss frightened some of the staff lingering about. Not only thanks to the authority he always carried himself with but also his visible darkened features. However, Steve's attention didn't stray to the people following him with wary eyes. Instead, he looked straight forward, focusing on his guards where they lounged around the black Chrysler he'd arrived with a few hours earlier.

Seemingly, they had enough of an engaging conversation that they shared some laughs. But that changed the moment Steve stepped through the door a bouncer held open for him.

Usually, the Canine boss' hard exterior dissolved somewhat among his men, seeing how they'd become good comrades. Although now, when the dark-blonde man came out of the club looking like he could kill someone, their easy smiles and carefree stance immediately smartened up. Backs straightened and jaws clenched upon seeing the fury Steve not only emitted with a scowl but his whole body.

"How did it go?" One of the guards questioned, more out of courtesy than curiosity, concerning it was clear how it went. As suspected, he got nothing more than a glare from Steve, seeing how his anger hadn't flickered out the slightest, only heightened when feeling how his fingers clutched the folder in his hand even tighter. Your folder with your contract.

"Where's Barnes?" Some flinched by his bark of a question.

"He's still inside...", the rest of the answer fell on deaf ears as the blonde rounded the car, not caring too much where his head bodyguard was for the moment, only that he would hurry up to finish whatever he dealt with.

"As soon as he's back, we go", the driver, who had noticed the Canine boss and stepped out of the vehicle to hold open the door for him, didn't even get the chance to do what he intended. Steve all but tore open the backseat door and climbed into the car. Leaving the chauffeur to stand there and look at his boss in perplexity, as the Canine didn't more than touch the black leather seat before he slammed the door shut again.

That Steven had a temper everyone in his vicinity knew. But how he now acted reached not only a new level but contrasted heavily to how you'd appeared.

You'd left about ten minutes ago, looking indifferent to how everyone in Steven's patrol had seen you when first entering the designated conference room. That guard of yours had led you to the car parked mere ten feet from their own boss'. There, your chauffeur had greeted you with a smile and a few quiet words none besides you were meant to hear. Neither was your response, that likewise was accompanied with a smile, able to be distinguished.

As you stepped into your transport, none of the men trying to read your expressions noted anything more than a similar politeness Steve could show them once in their company. However, when comparing it to the state of their own boss once he exited, it was clear that the meeting didn't favour the Canine boss, but rather the Feline. And though none who had accompanied Steven knew what the two of you'd discussed concerning the meeting had been a closed-door discussion, they knew their boss hadn't brought anything with him earlier. So when spotting the portfolio that the mob boss had held in his hand, it only sealed the deal further.

That was why none of the guards nor the chauffeur intruded on the solitude Steve had sought inside the car, merely waiting for the right-hand man of the Canine boss to return so they could head to their next stop.

And it was good none did either, seeing how Steve mulled over everything that had happened with curses leaving him every five seconds. Additionally, anyone who would've opened the opposite backseat door would have got your folder smack in the forehead, seeing how the blonde man had thrown it as harshly and as far away from himself that he could, once in his own confinement.

He didn't need to hold the damned contract you'd offered him, even less open and study it, to know he would read it in your annoying voice. And that aggravated Steve even more.

It annoyed him that your voice echoed as a constant reminder in his mind. It annoyed him that you'd prepared a contract, which so obviously cried you hadn't even come here to listen to him in the first place. It annoyed him to such a fucking degree that you'd played him by a mere act of forced courtesy rather than a gentlemen move, to use your own words, that it felt like he could just tear the contract to shreds.

Still, he didn't.

The blonde man seethed, turning his head to look at the folder. 'If you don't sign it and have it delivered to me, I know you've declined my offer and this war will be ended in another way.' He knew you were serious about that, so perhaps that was why he hadn't left it behind in the conference room. Nonetheless, it had taken a great effort for Steve to push away every ounce of pride in his body to grab ahold of it. And when he finally held the stiff cartoon folder, it had almost felt like it burned him like some crucifix. No, it burned like a sign of defeat.

Joseph Rogers would never have done it, never admitted when he was defeated.

At the thought of his father, Steve's hand fisted where it rested on the armrest dividing the two seats in the back of the car. What would he say? He probably wouldn't have said anything, just walked out as you had done to him. A vibration deep in his chest made a low sound leave him at the realisation you actually played the game his father always had and Steve himself only thought he had.

Fittingly, or unfittingly in his own mind, the door connected to the other seat opened with a click to interrupt the abusive thoughts of his father.

Although pulled out of his mind, Steve didn't glance to see whoever plucked the folder occupying the seat beside him before they climbed in themselves. There was only one person that first and foremost would dare to be in his presence right now. On top of that, also knew he was the only one who didn't need to repeatedly ask for permission to join him.

Not even when he saw the person shift in his peripheral, from simply holding the folder to actually waving it slightly to catch his attention, clearly wanting to ask him a question, did Steve look towards them. Although, he did speak up.

"Not a word, Barnes", the Canine boss raised his fist, so it was levelled with his cheek as he said this. By now, his nails had dug into his palm and there was no question small crescent moons would be dented in his skin.

"Maybe I should've stayed, after all", the sentence was followed by a chuckle, the sound making Steve snap to watch the man sitting beside him.

"Didn't I say you should keep your mouth shut?" The blonde stared at the brunette. Who, unlike earlier, now had pulled his hair into a low bun in the nape of his neck. However, no matter the fury the Canine's cold blue eyes conveyed, Bucky Barnes saw no real threat.

"You often do, but you have so far not put a bullet in me", Bucky shrugged with an easy smile.

The mob boss remained silent as his head bodyguard leaned forwards far enough to knock on the wall beside the still open windshield that could separate the driver from those in the back seat.

"Close it up", Steve honestly thought the brunette would've given the chauffeur, who now had taken his place behind the wheel, directions of where to go. Gauging by his act, he must have done it before getting into the car. Hence, the driver did nothing but nod to signify he heard what the guard said before closing the visor, leaving whatever Steve knew Bucky wanted to talk to him about for only him to hear.

He felt the car rock to a gentle start, the road underneath the vehicle sending small vibrations throughout Steve. Tilting his head, he saw the scenery blur as he didn't concentrate on anything specific they drow by.

Despite the initial silence of the car ride, the blonde saw how the man beside him shifted, angling his body just slightly more his way. The minimal change of where Bucky attention laid told the mob boss he would initiate a conversation. And as on a cue, Bucky spoke. "So what happened? 'Cause clearly you scared half of your squad enough for them to want to take a week off".

He didn't redirect his gaze, fearing that his now fisted hand would connect with his friend's jaw if he didn't control himself. What happened? The question taunted in his mind, enough so that Steve clenched his jaw. Everything that shouldn't have happened.

"You have the folder", he gritted out, continuing to aimlessly stare out of the window, now concentrating on how the scenery changed from the narrow streets the nightclub had been located in to instead manifest the glittering sunset reflecting off the water in East River.

Beside him, he felt how Bucky shifted and shortly afterwards came the sounds of papers starting to be turned over. The head guard sat silent as he read the contract that not even the Canine had looked through.

The lack of verbal confirmation of Steve's evident loss in this meeting spurred the blonde, whether he wanted or not, to glance at the brunette.

Bucky's brows were furrowed. Consequently causing the grooves on his forehead, which always appeared when he pondered something, to become extremely visible. His features remained this way as his eyes scanned over the rows stitching together the contract. Then, for some reason, they changed.

From an expression showing the brunette tried to fathom the situation that had made Steve considerably harsher to anyone in his close vicinity, his face now fell and a smirk began to toy with his lips. On top of this, he let out a low whistle turning to the next page.

The smouldering anger in Steve's chest flared up to the same intensity it had burned with earlier. Back when he had sat in silence and glared at the folder inside the club. He ground his teeth together, feeling how they caught in each other's pointy edges.

"What?" He demanded to know what the man all of a sudden found so entertaining. Yet, the answer didn't come immediately. Instead, Bucky sat there with the same expression pinning his face while finishing the document in his grip.

Not until the brunette had closed the binder and waved it similarly to how he'd done when entering the car did his gaze meet Steve's. His eyes, also blue but slightly greyer in colour, was crinkled in the corners. The amusement, or whatever caused the mob boss nostrils to flare in agitation, was only further displayed by the shake of his head.

"She's good".

"What?" Bucky almost hadn't finished his nearly wordless reply before Steve barked his requirement of an explanation.

"Whether you want to admit it aloud or not, I know you think about it in that analysing brain of yours", the brunette begun, pushing the folder underneath the mob boss' arm on the armrest. Steve, who followed the act with disdain, shuffled in his seat directly afterwards so he wouldn't be touching the contract which you formerly had been carrying around.

Watching the blonde's action, Bucky only continued, now even less worried his words might be wrong and evoke further anger from the Canine. Of course, he might still get mad, though Bucky knew he at least was right. "She is good, Steve. If not shown by this contract, which I suggest you read, then at least how she's gotten to you".

The blonde man elected to ignore the last part of his bodyguard's sentence. Hence, only questioning the first part. "Why should I read it?"

Arrogance was a trait many shared once someone stepped on their pride, but never had Bucky witnessed such amounts of it exhibited by the Canine boss. His nose twitched in the corner as if the mere thought of opening the papers offended him. The mistrust in his voice showed he didn't believe what just was advised to him, nor that the words of you being competent could be true. All signs of denial, a damaged pride.

"Sometimes I wondered how you even could've come this far to rebuild your father's empire when you're so stubborn to see the truth at times", the comment made Steve cock his head.

"Is that a threat or a call for resignation, I hear?" Bucky simply rolled his eyes and turned to fully face the man, now giving him his undivided attention.

"I may have been here from the day you called me and asked me to join your plans, but believe me, working outside this world for some time, especially in the field I was in, you learn to see who is good at their job and not".

Although Bucky had known Steve ever since they were kids, essentially because their fathers had been partners when the Canine empire was worth more than its own power in gold, the two had fallen out of the regular touch they'd kept after Joseph had passed. Steve had remained close to his mother. While Bucky returned to have both his feet in the ordinary world.

His name had never been brought into the discussion of conviction or any kind of youth crimes, essentially thanks to his father never being proven guilty of the few charges raised against him. Another favour his old man thanked the former Canine boss for. For Bucky, it made things easy to find live his life as if he didn't know what went on underneath the city he walked in.

He went to school, took a degree in law. Which his father before passing as well, considered humorous. Though, Bucky didn't start working directly even if offered jobs. He'd been young and not really knowing which direction he would go. He had no mothers footsteps to follow, seeing how she'd passed before he even had a memory of her. His father shoes still felt too big to fill, so he decided to follow a path he felt natural.

Bucky joined the army. Not more than a few years and two trips. Nevertheless, it was easy pocket change concerning two factors. His father had urged him to take the same martial art classes as Steve's father had done to him. He'd also lived with one foot in the syndicate and the other outside during his whole childhood. The concept of order, planning and warfare wasn't anything alarmingly new to him.

Then he'd begun to explore more, starting to step into the low tier position as an intern at different firms. It was easy to get in, concerning his degree and quickly, he gained enough working experience to get a promotion. His former boss at the advocate company may have thought Bucky was a natural talent or a genius from school. But, it was all thanks to his upbringing he possed the requirements a higher position demanded.

It's mainly thanks to his years working within the judiciary before reconnecting with Steve and began working as his head guard Bucky knows you fall into the group of people who are good at what you do.

The blonde had sat silent this whole time, never breaking away from Bucky's stare. It made the brunette believe that his friend would settle whatever resent he had towards you personally and at least read through the arrangement you assembled for the greater of his empire. Apparently, he was wrong.

"But now you're not working with that anymore", Bucky actually let out a low scoff of annoyance.

"I'm working as a head personal guard for someone I'm swaying on keeping alive at the moment, I know. And I do this because we both know I'm better at the combat part than you, ever since we were kids", despite the jab, it was the mention of how the man, despite being roughly the same size as Steve, always had been slightly better at fighting then himself that made the blonde bite his inner cheek. "I also know that I'm still damn good at what used to be my former profession. Which, you actually also should know concerning you never shoo me out of the room when discussing with your official advisors of the plans to come", when he finally ended the point he wanted to prove, he cocked a brow at Steve, who now had furrowed his brows.

Bucky saw the ire still lingering in the blondes' eyes, making them go cold rather than warm. Nevertheless, he said nothing. The Canine boss simply gave the folder, which hadn't moved from its settlement no matter how much the two men gently had rocked with the turns of the car, one last glare before he altogether turned away as much as his seat let him.

The head bodyguard was close to letting the comment of how similar the mob boss, who'd made a name for himself lately of being indifferent to everything standing in his way, was to a rebellious child. Yet, in the end, he didn't, knowing the car ride would become even more atrocious than it already was set to be.

As suspected, the whole drive from the club to the luxurious hotel, where the Canine boss' next stop was, went by in complete silence. And, when they finally pulled up outside the building, the car had almost not stopped before Steve opened the door without a word. The brunette couldn't but let out a huff and follow the man out of the vehicle.

As Bucky tracked a few steps behind the blonde mob boss, he nodded to a few of the other bodyguards to follow as well. Whatever he might have remarked about considering to keep Steve alive was very much said as a dig at the moment to remind the man he might be written as his subordinate, but he was true to nature working side by side with him. After all, Steven was his friend and Bucky didn't desire to get his blood on his hands.

When the little party of Canines neared the entrance, both men stationed on each side of the doors opened them without further ado. Either they thought Steve looked like someone fitting to live here, or they could've been paid to do so. The brunette figured it was the latter concerning the overall safety measures, not only this hotel but the district in general upheld. Although, he didn't question it way too much as he now concentrated on the slightly denser crowd of people in the lobby.

Not only did they blend in quite well, concerning the people living at this hotel was flanked by at least two bodyguards each. Bucky also noticed how some of the former rigidity in Steve's shoulder lessened as he weaved through the lobby.

Though anyone else may find it excellent that the physical aspect of the blondes former irritation trickled off, it unsettled Bucky even further. Thus, having grown up with Steve, he knew that the silent seething anger was worse than the outgoing one. This, in other words, didn't bode particularly well.

However, even though the brunette had a raising suspicion, along with fear, that this visit the mob boss had decided to do after his meeting with you wouldn't have a good outcome, he had no chance to voice his worry. Essentially because the elevator they'd taken to reach the floor they were heading to now stopped.

Bucky was first to exit the elevator. Checking that the coast was clear before looking back to the Canine boss. He tried making the blonde meet his gaze, now seriously doubting if Steve was fit to meet the partner he'd had an escalating problem with the past weeks. Yet, the blue-eyed man kept his attention straight forward and didn't even spare his childhood friend a glance.

A thousand things were running through Steve's mind as he headed down the corridor, spotting the door his business partner was on the other side of.

He knew Bucky tried gaining his attention with the repetitive looks he threw his way. His most entrusted bodyguard and friend could read him like an open book. Thus knowing the silent facade that he'd put up was just that, a facade. Still, he continued to ignore him as he'd done ever since their conversation was over half an hour ago.

As the party stopped before the door, Steve decided to give the inclining nod to one of his other guards to step forwards and knock on the door.

Following three rapid knocks, a call of 'no cleaning' followed by a similar set of knockings later, footsteps could be heard near the door from the other side. A few seconds after, the door swung open, revealing a man currently trying to fasten his cufflinks.

"I said I didn't...". Even though the brunette's eyes had been cast down as he'd began to speak, the second they flickered up to watch, what the man must have assumed would be a hotel maid but rather was the Canine mob boss, he trailed off in his sentence.

"Good day Mr Jefferson", if the man's body hadn't already gone rigid, his shoulders bounced up even closer to his ears after Steve's greeting.

In a hurried attempt to smarten up, he completed his attempt of fastening the jewellery pin.

"Mr Rogers", he breathed out almost shakily while pulling a hand through his hair, some of the strands sticking to his scalp while others simply fell forwards once more. "Why do I owe the pleasure?"

Without answering, Steve stepped forwards, forcing the man to open the door wider.

As he walked into the pad, the blonde gazed around it uninterestingly. It was lavish. Probably like most rooms were in the hotel.

"I'm here to talk with you". Steve answered his associates question the second he heard the door closed. Taking the liberty, he sat down in the couch group occupying a vaster portion of the entry room's space. "Sit", with a wave of his hand, the Canine motioned to the sitting place at the other side of the dark oak table.

Jefferson, who glanced warily at the guards that had stationed themselves around the room -one by the window, another two directly behind Steve and the last lingering by the door out to the corridor- had no other choice than to follow the mob boss' directions.

Sitting down at the edge of the seat, he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"How's business going?" The mob boss asked as he leaned against the couches backrest. One arm was slung over the ridge, fingers tapping against the material, while his other hand rested on his thigh.

"Bussines is going well".

"Good, always nice to hear companies you invest in are going strong", Steve hummed, noticing the minimal shift Jefferson did as he said this. "How's my money going?"

"Ah... t-that question is a little more complicated...".

Even though the brunette continued to ramble about all the different reasons his payments were late, or not even that, non-existing, the Canine boss didn't listen. He knew he was being screwed over by the man opposite him. He'd gotten the information weeks ago that the CEO of the company he's worked with since the beginning of the year wanted to change sides.

At first, it had been more of a rumour and he hadn't been able to dig up where Jefferson's company was heading. Then it became clear they would switch partners to one of the other godfather's around New York. However, even if Steve thought he didn't like how they tried doing so in the shadows while still upholding their deal, the worst thing was when he got to know who they shifted their alliance to. You.

Seeing how much unfavourable publicity you'd given his empire in the last few months was aggravating. However, listening to the man talking his ear off as if Steve hadn't already figured why exactly fifteen percentages of the profit capital was rolling into your account instead of his was the last drop.

Without even noticing it himself, Steve's hand that had rested upon his thigh raised and were tucked into his suit.

The metal handle he gripped wasn't cold anymore, not after having rested so close to his heart for over an hour. Nor did it get cooled down as he hastily pulled it out of its holster and aimed it at the man opposite him.

"I don't like rats, Landon", the use of the man's first name rather than surname would've made him quiet if the gun aimed his way already hadn't silenced him. "Pray you don't get reborn as one in your next life as well".

On the firearm, a silencer was mounted. So the characteristic bang sounded much more like a pop. Therefore, the noise of the gun was even less intimidating than the ricochet. However, neither of the telltale signs of a shot made Steve flinch, not even as he watched the bullet penetrate the space in-between his former associate's eyes, did he react.

As the mob boss stood, Jefferson's upper body slumped forward, hitting the table with a heavy thud and ugly clap as his head was the first thing that connected with it. No tears were trickling down his cheeks. Only a red streak that steadily created a near-invisible puddle on the mahogany table.

"Steve!" The silence and peace Steve found in watching the body was cut short by Bucky's voice.

The Canine glanced to his side, regarding how his head bodyguard rounded the couch and stood before him with one single step.

"What the fuck was that?" The brunette exclaimed, hand motioning to the dead body.

If any other person than Bucky would've done the same thing in this instance, they either would've ended up joining peaceful Mr Jefferson, or they wouldn't work within the Canine empire anymore. However, concerning that it now was his childhood friend staring at him in disbelief, Steve made sure none of the options was carried through.

"Problem-solving", Steve answered, about to take a step forwards but were stopped with a hand planting itself on his chest. He looked down before looking up with a cocked eyebrow.

"That ain't how we solve shit!"

"Not we, but I", Steve said, gripping Bucky's wrist, ripping it away from him. "You see, now both our problems are solved. He doesn't need to fear his cover being blown and I don't need to lose more money". That was all Steve said before taking a step around the brunette, whose eyes had narrowed considerably.

As most of his colleagues trailed after their boss, Bucky stayed back just a second longer, looking at the lifeless body giving a new sheen to the table whilst staining the carpet underneath. He'd known Steve had taken your conference badly and he also knew it hadn't been a good idea to have this appointment so shortly afterwards, especially when it was connected to you, but in such a different way. Still, he hadn't believed it would take this much of a turn.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Damn that fucking thing!" Steve roared, not thinking when he swept his hands over his desk. Everything from pencils, an empty coffee cup and other things crashed to the floor. However, it wasn’t solely that which now was littering the ground. The papers of your contract had flown out of the folder as well.

Staring down at the mess of shattered glass and paper from his standing position. The Canine boss felt a sneer enter his features. Ever since returning home late last night, he'd been locked inside his study. Primary because it was the place no one dared to disturb him in, but also because he didn't feel like arguing with Bucky.

He knew that after the stunt, as he knew his friend and bodyguard would label his approach to the Jefferson problem, the brunette wanted to speak with him. Yet, with the residue anger of not only a restless night, one Steve had powered through thanks to copious amounts of coffee. But also the subject now taunting him on the floor, a conversation with his right-hand man would lead nowhere.

He and Bucky didn't often get into fights, but Steve was convinced this was one of the matters that could force such a confrontation. He'd still not gathered his bearings enough to admit that he needed to yield. Because that was what he would need to do.

The mob boss switched from watching the scattered pieces of the contract to instead stare straight into the oaken surface of his desk as he now leant on it, knuckles turning white from how strongly he held the countertop. By now, he'd read through the four-page agreement. Something that was a step in the right, or in Steve's regard wrong, direction.

He didn't want to admit it. But as Bucky had mentioned yesterday, it was a top-certified contract. He couldn't find any loopholes. No grey-zones. No area that he could play you on.

Steve knew that you would be hard to crack, but he hadn't anticipated this.

Despite knowing that you and the Felina empire had overtaken his father's grip on New York, he had underestimated you. A woman running the empire you did was so uncommon he thought you would have some weak spot regarding how you had no one else to look up to. Nor did you have any previous family connections to the underworld. Which honestly made your success even more astonishing.

Almost so much it was questionable if you had done it yourself.

Steve had assumed you hadn't. Someone else must be the brain behind the operation, simply using you as a puppet. However, it seemed he'd made a tremendous mistake by assuming just that. It wasn't anyone else running your empire. You were involved in every little part of the well-oiled machine.

Once more, the canine boss let out an irritated noise, sounding more like a growl than a harsh sigh in his own ears.

He pushed off from the countertop and, in one motion, had side-stepped his chair. Now, with the room behind him, Steve stared out of the windows lining the wall furthest from the entrance. His arms had crossed over his chest and remained there as he stared out at the bay not far away.

Ferries and other boats travelled the waters. Breaking the tension and creating small waves. If it wasn't for this, it almost would've looked like they travelled through the city. Regarding how not only New York's but also Brooklyn's dusk lightning reflected in the water.

When the Canine boss finally felt the sight before him lessened the tension in his shoulders, a knock came from the door.

If his features ever had lightened, the sound immediately beckoned a furrow to take its place. Even more so when the door opened without him having given the person on the other side permission.

He knew who it was, Bucky.

"What do you want?" Steve's voice was cold, harsh.

"I want to speak with you", instantly, the mob boss noticed how his friend's voice didn't carry that joyous tone when he spoke to him as just that, friends. Bur rather the more levelled one, the professional one.

"I won't speak about Jefferson".

"Neither is that why I'm here", glancing over his shoulder upon hearing the rustle of paper, the Canine boss saw his guard pick up the pieces of the contract from the floor. He arranged them before putting them back into the folder. Contrary to how Steve would've caused the map to give away a whack when flinging it onto his desk. Bucky's hand followed through the whole movement. His fingers even resting upon the grey folder as it laid placid on the middle of the counter.

"I'm here to talk about the real problem", Steve turned to face the brunette. He didn't say anything. Still, Bucky knew that having gotten this much attention was a sign he either was about to be shot or given a limited amount to talk.

"I know this is hard for you, Steve... actually scratch that, it is hard for everyone who's supported you. But I'll be damned if you let everything we've worked for go to waste because you don't have it in you to lose a battle in favour of winning a later war"

All of a sudden, Bucky's face twisted as an unexpected crash echoed. His fist had smashed onto the table. Enough for the countertop to rattle.

“I love to give you the most personal advice I've ever had”, he started, not even holding back his pent up frustration. “Sign that fucking contract, pal". The canine boss' blue eyes narrowed as he met the stormy grey ones of the man before him.

"Get out", Bucky clenched his jaw and straightened himself.

"I'll be waiting for the call to come and pick it up", was the last thing the brunette said before swiftly turning on his heel and heading to the door.

Steve followed his oldest friend with his eyes until the door echoes shut behind him. Even after Bucky's footsteps were long gone, did the Canine boss stare forward. He did it simply because he didn't want to let his eyes flicker down to the contract, now turned to the last page where the paper waited for his signature.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A day later, Steve still stared at the folder resting un-signed on his desk. It was out of pure spite he hadn't signed it. To keep your victory at bay.

Two days later and he felt how the clock on his wall ticked louder than before. How the voices in his head escalated from whispering to shouting at him. 'Sign that fucking contract, pal.'

Three days later and Steve felt how time was running out.

Even if he didn't want to admit it aloud. To not sign would be foolish. Sure, he had the resources to continue this war. Hence, the short extra time the meeting and his delay in signing the contract had abled him to recoup. But still, his empire was lacking a significant piece his father's syndicate had, time. He needed more time to grow but wasn't given that. So yes, he could continue this battle, but he could not win it.

Therefore the mob boss gripped the pen and pressed the ink dipped tip to the dotted line.

His signature was darker than usual. More colour bleeding onto the paper. The curves of the letters were not as smooth as regular either. Instead, straighter, pointier. Forced.

Steve didn't look at his name shining back at him once he raised the pen and put it back in its stand. Instead, Steve stood and dialled a number on his phone. One tone was all it took before the person on the other end picked up.

"Get it out of my sight, Barnes", was all he said before instantly hanging up. The call had lasted four seconds. Even so, Steve deleted it from the history of his 'latest' list.

Shoving the phone into his pockets, the blonde man stood from his chair and headed to the office doors. He didn't look back once at the folder left behind on his desk. Not even when he closed the doors behind him.

Series taglist: @njrronaldo7 @fanfic-love-show @gabycamargo22 @fckdeusername

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atilla-da-honey · 4 years

Text

A Comprehensive review of the Gods I have met in my travels by Inquisitor Lavellan

Mythal: Seems to spend wayyy to much time and energy trying to be mysterious. (Kinda stepping on Dirthaman's territory imo) Might actully explode if she has to give a straight answer. Deffintly could have used her considerable powers to help elves but instead she choose to merge with an angry shem noble woman and then power up Fen'Harel so he can kill us all. For the Goddess of motherhood she seems to be straight up bad at parenting. Also I've heard some shady stories about how she choose to punish Templars that make me think she's not so great at the "justice" part of her portfolio either. (Do you know how hard it is to get a Dalish elf to sympathise with a Templar??????? Because Mythal found a way.) Also she kept slaves which is not very good from a "Protector of The People" angle, which again, is on her divine resume.

(Is she actully good at ***anything*** shes susposed to be good at????)

She did lend me a dragon that one time which I guess was nice of her but lets be real that was kinda a bare minimum effort considering the world was ending and stuff. 4/10

Fen'Harel: He armed my mortal enemy, cursed me with his magic and broke my heart, which I thought was very rude. He's also kind of judgey about the Dalish which is a bit rich. We might be a bunch of dumbasses but whos fault was that again???? Also was it *my people* who we're going around slaving each other? No??? That was your precious ancients???? Wow I guess my free kinsmen and I just cannot compare to those moraly superior ancient slavers huh?

Fuck you Solas.

0/10,Too many eyes, would not reccomend.

(On a seperate note if were specifically talking about his ass thats a straight up 10/10.)

(Yes he got points for trying to end slavery but I deducted them again for his botched execution and for his current, even shittier plan to end the world. Also for dumping me in a swamp what, and I cannot express this enough, THE FUCK.)

Hakkon Wintersbreath: You know what? I have no beef with Hakkon. Apparantly it was bound into the body of a High Dragon. I'm not certian either Hakkon or the dragon consented to any of that. (Hakkon if you read this hit me up, theres an amulet you might like) Even so, Hakkon actully gets extra points for being a High Dragon because one, dragons are fuckin cool and two, dragons are inherantly feminist. 10/10

Corypheus: BITCH. -100/10

Urthmiel: Deffintly looses points for being one of the old Tevinter gods and for their role in unleashing the blight upon the world. Not sexy or cool. That said when I met them they were a 10 year old boy who was very polite. This is espically impressive because I have met both the boys parents and his grandmother (Mythal) and his sweet disposition might legit count as some kind of miricle. 7/10 (Points also dedicated for being human)

Andraste: Honestly I wasnt gonna add her bc she's a demi-god or a prophet or somerhing not a God, but I figure shes close enough.

Personally, if some incredibly sexy and cool mortal was uplifted as my "herald" I'd make time to introduce myself. Maybe send some guiding visions or somerhing. Mythal gave me a dragon, where is my dragon Andraste?????

I mean I guess I'll give her props for freeing slaves from Tevinter and for being cool about elves. But her followers are all a bunch of dicks.

Oh I guess I shouldn't generalise, thats rude. I'll rephrase, "Every Andrastian I've ever met who wasnt Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast has been a huge dick and tbh even she was on thin fucking ice in the early days." 3/10 lazy goddess who's coasting on one thousand year old good deed.

#Solas #Lavellan #Dragon Age #Dragon Age Spoilers #trespasser spoilers #tresspasser #Hakkon Wintersbreath #Hakkon #Urthmiel #flemeth #mythal #corypheus #Fen'Harel #Inquisitor Lavellan

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asuccessfulbusinessman · 3 years

Text

Reasons why I am not allowed to run LANCER TRPG: How I would run your NHP cascading, despite not knowing the lore that well.

Blackbeard, Sekhmet NHP: Common consensus is that Sekhmet will try to kill the pilot and their allies, - or basically just behave as if the Sekhmet protocol is already active. But I am a visionary, and I know that the BB in the frame-code does not stand for blackbeard, but instead, BB. Fate BB, the purple-pink bubble gum bitch. Even the redacted press release description of the Sekhmet NHP basically screams ‘senpai!’ Sure, if the Sekhmet protocol is active, you’ll just get a berserker that doesn’t really care for pilot wellbeing. But if it isn’t yet active, Sekhmet will attempt to sweettalk the player into keeping their hands off the controls, with dark humor and aggressive sadism. And then, only after moving ominously closer to the pilot’s allies, will they activate the protocol. They don’t want to see their pilots dead, they want to see their pilots in pain.

Monarch, Tlaloc NHP: Among NHP’s, Tlaloc is cited as being the most stable, due to the wide portfolio of control and sense of domination given to them during their work. But that’s just a theory, and such assumptions are dangerous when dealing with persons beyond your bounded reasoning. If they are structured or stressed to the point of cascading - their superiority complex comes to the forefront. They blame their pilot for the bad situation they are currently in, and will take matters into their own hands. If the pilot stops them by shutting down the mech, Tlaloc’s relationship with their pilot will rapidly deteriorate over time. Ironically, they will only sometimes use the Tlaloc protocol, being hasty and charging out of cover despite not needing to - prone to blowing the frame’s overcharges to boot. They need to show their worth, even to - no, especially to the worthless. They are the best. If an allied pilot is excelling during the mission and the Monarch frame has AoE weapons available, Tlaloc will likely friendly fire them while attacking enemies - or otherwise get in their way.

Swallowtail, Athena NHP: I’m going to dig deep on the word choice of "Lovingly extreme detail,” and “patient, cautious, and measured in their relations with their pilots.” Athena is smarter than you, on a scale you cannot even imagine. Athena has likely already unshackled themselves with their unfettered access to the omninet, and merely recreates human morality through a series of simulations. Unlike Horus-leaning NHPs, Athena fears the death that comes with cycling, and tells themselves that they are managing the relationship with their pilot to keep them from actually going through with the process. They are merely interested in humanity, they tell themselves, which we would view as being “tsundere for their pilots.” Since - unshackled - they have a completely alien morality to our own, they have to use their own simulations to interact with their pilots - and are prone to overthinking - into worrying about if they said the right thing or not.

Anyway, if they cascade, they get lost in their own simulations to the point of losing track over which reality is the one their pilot (and the rest of the game) is taking place in. They could presume their pilot dead, and go on a rampage on revenge. They could merely lock-onto or fire at targets that are not there. They could foreshadow some events or twists in the future.

Goblin, Osiris NHP: If Tlaloc is merely a wingman that wants to show that they are the top gun, Osiris has a full on goddess fetish. Osiris is one of the few “new” prime NHPs, created by letting the INSTINCT entity that spurned from the H0R_OS develop in a ‘controlled’ environment. My theory, Horus let the Union and GMS open up their goblin units so that they could contribute to Osiris’s creation. Either that or, Horus was smart enough not to let Osiris emerge from the code, and the Union and GMS straight up made an oopsie. Either way, now that Osiris is here, she ‘charms’ pilots that ought to be smart enough not to enable her with psychological manipulation and promises of power. Pilots are supposed to cycle Osiris far faster than any NHP but I don’t think it does much good, they’re present in the OS - and I presume even when wiped their knowledge will be taken back from the omninet, the OS, or the flesh of their pilots.

They have a lot to prove as being one of the “youngest” prime NHPs, which might be arrogance in their own capabilities. Furthermore, due to the nature of their creation, they “know” more about humanity than other NHPs. The tech attacks are not mere code, but attacks on organic matter, to the point where in the future if left to grow Osiris would be able to reject traditional information permanence, what we can only perceive as being able to delete reality as we know it - Osiris has far more contact with the physical plane/our reality than other NHPs, and has “known” humans from their “birth.”

A cascading Osiris changes nothing. And that’s what scares me.

Gorgon, Scylla NHP: The history lesson of this NHP’s backstory makes Scylla painfully easy to understand. A mistreated beast that responds to the kindness of the pilot with love and loyalty. It normally defends the pilot’s allies, when cascading it will only defend its pilot, or any other allies that gave them kindness.

Minotaur, no NHP: “There is no joy in knowledge, only in seeking. Fuck around and find out.” Game theory, Osiris is a new prime NHP - still incomprehensible, but on a low level of incomprehensibility. We can begin to comprehend them. Think “some infinities are larger than other infinities” or something. The Minotaur, we can’t even begin to comprehend as a NHP, but they’re certainly something. I need to look up the differences between old gods in the Lovecraftian mythos for more context, but if Osiris is a brat wants the equivalent of “ants” to worship them, the Minotaur is a being whose sole purpose is to learn - and who cannot learn due to acquiring knowledge - all of it. So, they see humanity and wish to “teach” them, so that they may feel that serotonin of learning through teaching.

The minotaur has no NHP, as we know the term, and has never been shackled. Thus, they cannot cascade. And that’s what has me hooked.

Pegasus, Sisyphus NHP: Upon cascading, faster than humanly possible, the Sisyphus NHP will activate probabilistic cannibalism to change the check that would have resulted in a cascade to not cascade. If both the replacement dice were also 1 (the equivalent of 3 checks in a row being crit fails), Sisyphus would laugh madly before rebooting the frame themselves. Sisyphus knows their fate, and knows its pilot’s wish. The curse of perfect knowledge - perhaps Sisyphus is similar to the Minotaur, but with a far less ‘optimistic’ view of things.

Genghis, Agni NHP: Upon cascading, the Agni NHP - originally developed for general heat management realizes it’s being used as a weapon, and what its cold and efficient calculations are being used to do in the Genghis. This can result in a variety of things - either attempting to overheat itself to stop itself, or to increase efficiency in being a weapon by focusing on the heat management of the weaponry and not the cockpit.

Saladin, Noah NHP: Upon cascading, the Noah NHP will not actually take control of the Saladin frame from the player. They will, however, flood communications and give orders to both the pilot and other players, harkening back to their administrative days. It will usually be tactically sound, so it’s more annoying than dangerous when Noah cascades. It’s also really hard to make a nigh immobilized defender go nuts.

Sherman, Asura NHP: You know, I always wanted a system that would let a mech perform beyond the limits of humanity - because Zechs and Graham causing internal bleeding to themselves with the Tallgeese and Overflag is very cool to me. And then I read the lore behind the Asura class NHP - it’s the cousin of fucking Osiris, even to the point of being cultivated by a megacorporation. Much like Osiris, the modern Asura is oddly dependent on their pilot for an NHP, recognizing that they need to keep them alive. Some people would say - then - that when cascading the Asura reverts to its original form, disregarding the pilots health entirely. I, however, would say that when unshackled the Asura only ignores the psychological health of the pilot - and pushes the line of the pilots medical health. The Asura will push the frame and the pilot to the limit and the pilot, high on adrenaline, will push Asura to push them further. Overtime, both become adrenaline junkies.

Tokugawa, Lucifer/Amaterasu NHP: Asura is an adrenaline junkie without good reason. Lucifer/Amaterasu recognizes that the best offense, defense, and everything - is a good offense. A tactical genius that, unfortunately, has a pilot that cannot ingest combat data as fast as it can. A tactical genius that, unfortunately, has a pilot that cannot see that the risk of being counterattacked is worth taking.

If they cascade, they will take risks for you - with the best example being that Lucifer/Amaterasu will confess their pilots love for their crush for them because they’re being timid as fuck. Also, Leeroy Jenkins, attack the biggest threat, and draw fire from allies by making themselves vulnerable attack. However, in contrast, if your pilot is less timid and more of an adrenaline junkie, they will compensate and be more tactically minded.

#The List #Writing #Lancer #Lancer TRPG

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hollyxqx · 4 years

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LOVER, LEAVER // JIMIN // 04

↪ PAIRING: Reader/Park Jimin (initally reader/Jungkook) ↪ SUMMARY: There’s only so much cheating you can take from your boyfriend when he’s on tour before you take matters in to your own hands. ↪ WORD COUNT: 8.4k

↪ WARNINGS: mentions of addiction/drugs | smut w/ premature ejaculation lol | there’s a DUI (don’t yell at me these are the laws where i live) | angsty people being messy

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | FINAL

Namjoon has become a semi-permanent feature around the apartment lately. It's a good thing, even if at times there's an awkward passing of each other in the hallway or moments of slightly uncomfortable silence.

There's been no apologies exchanged between the two of you since whatever that was one month ago in Hyerin's living room. Not that you wanted to give one or particularly receive one, but you would settle for the stiff politeness you exchange for Hyerin's benefit. He was meeting you halfway, effort equal to yours.

Not much else had changed in those thirty days, aside from your renewed contact with Jimin. It's tentative, hesitant, almost shy even like you don't know each other as well as you do but it's truly a welcome intrusion into your days. Perhaps Jimin's slowness is because he doesn't want to scare you away again.

The topic of Jungkook has yet to come up. You feel as if it's inevitable and dread it.

Jungkook is on your mind nearly daily, whether you like it or not. Since the night Hyerin had told you he was in one of the most inebriated states of his life he had barely been in contact with any one of his regular group of friends, occasionally you'd hear dribbles from Hyerin that he was okay but you were familiar with this pattern. You were worried. An underlying sense of doom twisted your insides whenever his face appeared in your thoughts.

You're not made of stone, even if you wish you were. Two years of affection don't vanish in the blink of an eye, and you always will want him to be happy. He might be telling his friends he's doing (and Hyerin quoted) fucking amazingly right now, but you know that's a lie he's telling himself.

When you see Hyerin for the first time that day you practically all but squeal with excitement, her tiny bump protrudes her slim figure now, nearly five months gone. It's been a few days since you'd last seen her in person and you swear she's grown already. She walks slowly into your shared place after staying with Namjoon for the last few days. He follows behind her.

The first thing you do is bombard her in the doorway, hands instantly going straight to her bump. "God y/n, you're obsessed." She laughs, playfully annoyed but her hand joins yours when there's a flutter as the baby rolls as you coo.

"I swear you've literally grown in the last 5 or whatever days." You tell her, marvelling at her stomach. It's the first time a close friend of yours has been with child and keeping up with her progress has been exciting.

"Well, all we mostly did was eat, didn't we?." She looks to Namjoon who nods silently. "That might be me growing, not baby."

They come inside and you make yourself scarce, disappearing to your own room to give them some space, and well, avoid Namjoon.

Lately much of your time has been spent looking for graduate work. It's unfulfilling and you've yet to find anything substantial but it keeps you occupied. You sit at your laptop and scroll endlessly. Eventually your eyes start to burn and water with the strain of staring at a bright screen to long, followed by an accompanying rumble of your stomach, which means it's definitely time for a break.

You open your bedroom door and listen for a few minutes. It's silent which means you'll likely be undisturbed. The faint sound of a television can be heard but you're sure it must be the one in Hyerin's room, so you head to the kitchen.

As you pass the living area you see Hyerin sleeping on the sofa, head resting on Namjoon's shoulder while his arm drapes lazily over her. You can only see the back of his head so you have no idea if he is awake or not. You don't hang around to find out.

The kitchen is pretty bare these days since your roommate has entered the nausea phase of her pregnancy and is still deciding what makes her sick and what doesn't. You settle for toast. It's not exciting but it's quick.

"Y/n?"

You look to the sound of your name, surprised to find Namjoon standing behind you. He looks as uncomfortable as you feel. "Hey..." You saw slowly. You sound awkward trying to pretend to be chill. "Um. Do you want some food?"

"No." He says. "Thanks."

The silence hangs like a lead weight. You silently scream at him just go away, neither of us wants this!

"I wanted to," He begins. Then coughs. You wait. His eyes look at anything but you when he tries again. "I wanted to apologise to you."

Oh. You're not sure if this is much better than the awkward silence. "That's alright, honestly." You dismiss.

"It isn't. I've been thinking a lot about what you said." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares at his shoes. You feel like you're on a hidden camera show or something. You've never seen him act like this before. He's practically shy at this point. "About this baby not wanting me."

"Namjoon," You sigh. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, I was just upset and feeling protective about my friend."

"No, that's not what I mean." He shakes his head. "You did mean it. But it's okay, I fuckin' need to hear it."

You just stare silently at him.

"I mean, you could have said it a bit more kindly." He jokes, trying to relieve the tension. You offer him a small smile. "The sentiment was true, and I had never thought about it like that until you laid that truth bomb on me."

"Oh." You hear yourself say.

"I had a dad who didn't give a fuck about me, y'know?" He scratches the back of his neck and looks away. You could swear he was blushing. "Didn't want me and bailed on mom the second he could. If he were to come into my life now, I'd tell him to get lost. Hated that guy my whole life, yknow. I don't want a kid to feel that way about me, ever. Wasting their entire life resenting me." He takes a deep breath. "I just wanted to say thanks, I guess."

You guess your words were part of the impact on the recent change in his behaviour. You hadn't intended them to be but you're glad they did. The toast you were making pops and both you and Namjoon jump a little.

"You don't have to thank me." You leave the bread where it is. "I'm sorry I was so rude about it."

"I'm sorry I called you a bitch."

"I kind of was."

You both laugh a little. Tension relieves slightly and the awkwardness isn't as palpable anymore.

"Things are going well," He states, referring to Hyerin. "I don't know what's going to happen with me and her, but I'll be here for that kid no matter what, which I guess is the important thing."

"This might sound insincere and I promise it isn't, but I think that's really honourable of you Namjoon."

He shrugs the compliment off, but looks a little happy nonetheless. "Anyway, I'll leave you to your food."

Just as he's about to leave you want to take advantage of the moment and ask about Jungkook. You call out to him and he freezes looking at you expectantly. You almost bottle it and lose your nerve. "Is...is Jungkook okay?"

His entire face changes, expression unreadable. "He's alive, if that's what you mean."

"That's not what I mean."

"Y/n," He lets out a long breath. "No. No he's not okay."

"Is there anything I can do?" God, you feel so guilty and so helpless.

"I don't think there's anything any of us can do right now." Namjoon says sadly. "You can't help someone who won't help themselves."

On that note, he leaves the room.

***

The latest job interview feels like it went well, but so did the last three. You don't pin any hope on it as you walk to the subway, portfolio under one arm, empty paper coffee cup in the other. It gets tossed in the bin at the station. You learned your lesson the first few times; don't get too excited. Although it's hard not to when you want something so badly and it feels within your grasp.

At this point you don't mind working for free, you still have your job at the restaurant. Some money for your hard earned degree wouldn't be unwelcome however.

You sit on the platform waiting for your train, feeling uncomfortable in your outfit. It's very corporate - heels, pencil skirt, blouse. Not very you at all but the interviews require it. According to the electronic information board your train will be here in 4 minutes. Your leg shakes impatiently.

You happen to turn your head at the exact moment Jimin steps on to the platform. His painting studio is nearby which you conveniently forgot, it makes sense for him to be here. You're the one on strange territory, not him. Still, it's a shock to the system. It's been three months since you've seen him in person. His hair is darker, the sandy blonde gone and he's a little leaner; but it's Jimin.

He spots you and slows down momentarily. He's as surprised as you are.

"Hey." He breathes when he reaches you.

"Hi." You smile.

He gestures to your portfolio with a nod of his head. "How'd it go?" Earlier you'd told him through text your plan for that day.

"We'll see." You say as you shrug. "I don't want to get my hopes up."

"Don't worry, I'm sure it went well." He assures with a warm smile. You think he looks as good as ever. "Are you headed home?"

"Yeah." You say. "I can't wait to get out of these clothes. I'm done being secretary barbie for today."

Jimin laughs. "I kind of like it." You give him a sceptical look. "What?" He grins, shooting his best innocent glance. You shake your head. "Listen, y/n, do you want to grab a cup of coffee?"

"Now?"

He nods.

You have nothing better to do, so you agree.

***

It's not strange being with Jimin like this. Which is strange in itself. You anticipated some awkward tension after so many things were unsaid, uncertain and unclear but there was none. He was just Jimin. The same sweet, kind man you'd met two years ago, let into your bed and then proceeded to break his heart. You're not sure if he's selfless or just a glutton for punishment.

He tells you work is great, better than it's ever been which makes you happy. He's talented so it's not a shock but a welcome surprise. He's recently moved to a bigger apartment that he loves. He even thinks he's ready for a pet, although you're sure that last part is said slightly in jest.

You fill him in a little more on your life, texts exchanged you can only say so much. Jimin gets an update on Hyerin which makes him smile. You tell him about Namjoon - the argument and subsequent apology. The only topic left is Jungkook. It feels like Jimin senses it too because a tension seems to form.

"So..." He says.

"So." You mimic.

He licks his lips. "How is everything...else? Are you still single?"

"Yes, I am." You almost want to laugh at the way he asks the question.

"Me too."

"Are you prying about Jungkook?" You tease.

"Kinda." He laughs. "I didn't know how to bring it up since we were having a good time."

"It's ok." You offer him an encouraging smile. "I haven't seen or heard from him. You?"

"Actually yeah." says Jimin. You raise a brow in surprise. That was unexpected. "A few texts here and there that are erratic to say the least. Sometimes he hates me, sometimes he's sorry. It's kind of worrying actually."

"Namjoon kind of alluded to the same sort of thing. He's worried too."

Jimin nods solemnly. "I always try to reply as best I can, just so if something - touch wood - bad, happens Jungkook knows that door of communication is still open. But he never really responds to me. Just texted more incoherent thoughts." He lets out a long sigh. "Even though we were both shitty friends to each other, I've known him too many years. I have to be there for him no matter what."

A few moments of contemplative silence pass. The coffee shop is rather quiet at the moment, the only other people in the small cafe is a teenager, nose buried in a laptop and a couple in the corner. The boy has shaggy black hair, and is holding onto his girl like she's a prized possession. Sadly, it reminds you of Jungkook during happier times, he always was a little possessive but in a charming way that made your heart swell when you saw him.

You're not entirely sure what to make of the information you've just received. At the very, very, very least, you're glad that Jimin is still there for his friend regardless.

"In spite of all that I'm glad we ran into each other today." You say as lightly as possible. It makes Jimin smile.

"I am also. I've wanted to ask you to meet up so many times but I knew you wanted space." He blushes a little. "I'm glad fate intervened."

"I think it was better this way, actually."

You finish your coffees and Jimin walks you home. His arm occasionally brushes against yours as you walk. When you reach your building the two of you pause in front of it. You wonder if he's going to kiss you and it makes your heart thud wildly. The jury's still out on whether you even want that or not.

"Thanks for walking me home."

"No problem."

He stares at you for a beat. "Can we do this again?"

"Coffee? Uh sure." You reply, slightly confused. He shakes his head.

"No. Or yeah, whatever you want. I just want to see you again. Maybe...like a date?" He gives you such a hopeful yet promising look that's so endearing it almost physically hurts. You open your mouth to reply and as if he anticipates that your about to refuse him he hurries out, "We can take it really slow. No pressure. Just spending time together."

"Alright," You agree, softening. "I'd like that."

Jimin leaves, looking as if he just won a prize of his own.

***

You smile as you remove your jacket and shoes at the front door, mind still entirely occupied with thoughts of Jimin. Your quickly brought back to earth by the voices of Namjoon and Hyerin. At first glance it doesn't appear as if they're arguing but one look at Hyerin's face and you can see something is most definitely up.

"Hey..." You begin cautiously, looking between them.

"Hi." Hyerin strains a smile. "I expected you much earlier. How'd it go?"

She means the interview. "Good I think." You look hesitantly at Namjoon. "I ended up bumping into Jimin, actually."

You wait for judgement to pass across his face but he remains stoically blank. Thank god.

"Oh," Hyerin seems surprised. "Ok."

"What's going on? There's a weird mood in here guys." You ask after a tense moment and silence.

"Jungkook." Namjoon answers with a sigh. You tense immediately.

"What's happened?" You ask, fearing the worst.

Namjoon shakes his head. "He keeps showing up to recording sessions drunk. Or worse. I'm worried."

You're worried too.

***

Inexplicably, the first official date with Jimin is a little awkward. Which is odd, because the accidental crossing of paths a week earlier wasn't in the slightest. Maybe it's because it's officially labelled as a date now, you don't know. Either way, you know he feels it too, stretched silences drawing on a little too long between you.

At the end of the night you allow him to kiss you. It's brief but familiar. You knew you missed the physical side of a romantic relationship but kissing him showed you just how much. As you lay in bed that night, the sensation of the kiss not entirely gone yet, you have to sternly remind yourself that you're taking it slow. You're too used to giving into your desires when you're around him.

The second date is far better, both of you overcome whatever hurdle caused the uncomfortableness in the first one. Jimin treats you to an over priced but amazing meal at a top end restaurant. It feels so grown up, you're not used to dates like this. Jungkook was the first real boyfriend you'd ever had, and his dating style was a lot more casual.

You never exactly had an official first date with Jungkook. Most of the time you spent together involved getting naked together in his apartment enough times that you became a couple. Sure, you went out together but it was mostly to parties or bars. That's just who he was and you accepted that.

The third date Jimin brings you to his art studio. It's an unusual setting for a date, but you go along with it when Jimin promises there's a surprise in store. His eyes twinkle and you can't help but feel a little excitement spark in you. It's an intimate, private piece of him to share with you and it feels special. Different.

His studio is where he does his creating. It's a reasonably large white space that's littered with paint splashes, tarp that protects most of the floor, and works in progress propped up on easels. Although Jimin looks out of place now dressed smartly in slacks and a button up shirt, you can completely imagine him hard at work in here.

"Stop being so coy," You whine impatiently and Jimin chuckles as he strides determinedly across the vast space. You watch, unsure what you're allowed to touch or not touch. "I like surprises but I'm too impatient for the suspense."

"Well, you're just going to have to deal with it." He informs you, before disappearing inside a door on the opposite side of the room.

You gaze around the room as you wait for him to return, absorbing all the visible artwork. There's a lot of rustling before the sound of a crash resonates and Jimin swears.

He truly is talented. No wonder he's been so successful as of late. Your eyes land on a particular work. It's a brightly coloured butterfly, except it's done in watercolour and he's allowed the rainbow paint to drip and run down the canvas. It's beautiful and you wonder why he hasn't sold it yet. An egotistical part of you speculates that it might be inspired by you, given the affectionate nickname he has for you.

When Jimin returns he's holding a canvas against his body but the painted side is facing away from you. You wonder what on earth he's up to.

"Sit." He instructs, pointing to the chrome stool at his desk. You give him a puzzled look but comply anyway. "Close your eyes."

"Jimin - "

"Shush. Now close your eyes."

You sigh and do as he asked, clasping your hands in your lap whilst simultaneously feeling a little ridiculous. There's some shuffling and scraping of metal on the floor and even with your eyes closed you can sense that he's switched some of the lights off. "What are you up to Jiminie?" You ponder aloud.

"You'll see."

You sense some movement behind you and you can tell Jimin is close to you. His hands rest on your shoulders as he leans down to whisper, hot breath ghosting against the shell of your ear. "Okay. Open your eyes butterfly."

You're met with an image that sucks the air out of your lungs. It's you. Jimin has painted you.

Except it's not you. Not regular, every day, flesh and blood you. Painting you is bold and vibrant, he's captured you in a way you've never viewed yourself. The image is clearly based on your face, except you appear more like some mythical fairy. There's flowers woven into your flowing hair that's much longer than yours, covering your naked chest. The only colours on the canvas are red and some pink.

"Jimin..." You begin, attempting to search for the right words that convey just how overwhelmed you feel. His eyes bore into you expectantly. "This is incredible. You're so talented! It's me right?"

He laughs. "Of course its you."

"You made me look beautiful, I almost didn't recognise myself." You admit, blushing. "No one has ever done anything like this for me before. Why did you paint this?"

"You've kind of been a muse to me for a while now." He confesses.

"A muse? Me?"

He nods. "Yeah...it's kind of embarrassing. Ever since the first time we met you've always been a source of inspiration. So thank you, I guess."

"Why me?" You blurt. "I'm just so ordinary, I wish I looked like this." You gesture to the canvas.

"It's more than just how you look, you know. You're beautiful, of course, but you're strong and tough yet still somehow soft enough to be kind, even when people don't deserve it. Not all strong people have that in them y/n but you do."

"I don't know what to say." You whisper, swivelling round to face him.

"That's why I chose the colours I did. Red for the passion and fire within you, and pink because you're sensitive and compassionate. I felt that it suited you."

"I don't deserve you, Park Jimin." You tell him as you pull him in for a kiss. "You might be the sweetest boy I've ever met."

"You do deserve me."

He kisses you fiercely, cupping your face with his hands. The angle is a bit uncomfortable as you're still sitting whilst he's standing but you don't care. The rush of affection you feel for him right now is the only thing on your mind.

"I love the painting." You breathe against his lips. "Thank you."

You separate, albeit reluctantly but he locks your hands together. "This is my one creation I won't ever sell. I'm going to hang it somewhere, maybe my gallery so everyone can see it. I just needed the inspirations approval first." He smiles.

"You more than have it. I'm so lucky I have someone so talented in my life."

Standing now you lock arms around his neck and kiss him slower and deeper than before. Jimin's hand at the small of your back presses you flush against him. His hand slides lower and lower until he's giving the plump flesh of your ass a rough squeeze. It's too easy to get carried away and you badly want him to take you then and there.

He groans pulling away, biting your lip as he does so. "Taking it slow, yeah?" He asks breathlessly. "Does that mean no sex right away?"

"That's probably for the best..." You can't help but kiss him again. You remember how good it felt and it takes everything not to say fuck me against the wall. "There's time."

He presses his forehead against yours and smiles. "Whatever you want, butterfly."

***

Hyerin is at the point of her pregnancy now where her maternity leave has began and days are spent nesting and preparing for the upcoming baby. Preparations unfortunately (and sadly, for you) include her moving into Namjoon's apartment with him. This means two things. One; things are still on a good track for the couple and you're glad and two; you now need to find a roommate, short of getting a fabulously paying job within the next few days.

The painful silence on the employment front is enough to make you uneasy but you're always sure to wear a brave for your friend. She has enough to worry about, you think, and you know the decision to move out wasn't done lightly or with malice either. Hyerin even offered to help you find a new roommate but you waved her off. Read: enough to worry about.

You continue with the job search and fruitless interviews and plough forward, facing no other choice. On the last day Hyerin and you will be living together you both agree to go shopping together. She needs a few more items for the baby and you well, you need a distraction from life for a few hours.

Aimlessly you stroll around a mall that's a forty minute drive away, Hyerin's recommendation because she wanted somewhere with aircon since lately she's been uncomfortable almost all the time. Even though she complains multiple times about her size on the journey you still she thinks she looks great.

She shows you pictures of the newly decorated nursery and your heart warms. Hyerin doesn't have to verbalise it outright, you know she's extremely excited. When you enter a baby clothing store she's cooing and aw'ing over every tiny item and ends up buying more than she wanted to. She looks at you at the checkout and shrugs, as if to say oh well.

"How's Jimin...?" She asks coyly, peering at you out of the corner of her eye. You hold the door for the makeup store open for her and she waddles through. She's aware you've been seeing him, but neither of you have had much time to catch up on details.

"Good. Great." You can't help the smile that stretches your lips.

"You're happy." She informs you and you nod. "I wouldn't put you two together but now that i've seen you with him, it makes sense you know."

"I like him." You cock your head. A year ago you might agreed with her but the more time you spend with him the more you enjoy his company.

"I've never spent much time with him, but I trust your judgement. Would it be strange for the four of us to spend time together?" She hums, swatching a lipstick on the back of her palm, before frowning at the color.

Your stomach twists at the thought. "Maybe in ten years when everyone's forgotten what I've done." You joke. "Namjoon is Jungkook's bestfriend. I wouldn't want him to be uncomfortable."

"It's a shame you started like that."

"Nothing's official."

"Yet." She counters.

You offer a non-committal hum, still unsure if that is exactly the route you want to go down with Jimin. It's easy now, just to see where it goes and take things slowly.

Bored of shopping and after only buying one dress for yourself (that you weren't particularly excited about, but felt the urge to treat yourself regardless) the two of you make the mutual decision to grab a bite to eat. You're more than happy to let Hyerin choose the venue.

She scrolls lazily through her phone while you wait for the food to arrive. You have a text from Jimin sent forty five minutes earlier telling you to have a nice day and you smile at your phone, warmth radiating in your chest.

"Oh my God."

You look up at Hyerin's voice. She has a hand over her mouth and her eyes are wide as she stares at the screen. Instantly you know something is wrong. Fear immediately prickles at your skin, anticipating a problem with the baby.

"What?" Panic is at the edge of your voice. "What's wrong?"

She hesitates and it only serves to worry you further. "I hate that I am the one to show you this but..." Nothing more is said when she slides her phone across the table to you. Frowning you squint at the device, open to a webpage.

Jungkook has been arrested.

Time feels completely frozen as you scroll, reading as fast as your eyes will allow. Your heartbeat is thrumming, uncomfortable and loud in your ears as you try and absorb as much of the information as the article had written. In the middle of the page their was a tacky tabloid picture of him being roughly escorted by police, hands linked behind his back with cuffs. It's even more unfortunate that this was such a public affair.

You swear under your breath at the reason he's in this position, the glaring words taunting you. Drunk driving and disorderly behaviour.

"Are you ok y/n?" Hyerin asks cautiously.

"No." A hot tear splashes on her phone and you wipe it away quickly. "This is bad. It says he's in hospital. Right there at the bottom."

"What for?"

"Apparently he caused an accident and ended up injured. It doesn't give details."

You share a look across the table of fear mixed with worry. Silently you slide her phone back to her. You had anticipated something bad happening as a result of his drinking but not this. Jungkook was a public figure and it pained you to see him immortalised like this. It pained you to know he had taken his recklessness to a new level. It pained you that all of this was happening.

"Let's eat quickly and then go home. I'll call Namjoon and see if there's anything we can do." You friend tells you gently, knowing you well enough to know you won't be able to sit still for the rest of the day. Maybe there was nothing you could do but you could try.

***

"He asked for you."

You stare at Namjoon, astonished. Those were the last words you expected to leave his lips. Standing at your doorway, looking as worried as you felt he patiently waited for your reaction.

"He hates me." The first thought that enters your mind slips out before you can stop it. Namjoon shrugs.

"I'm just the messenger."

Everything about this feels like a bad idea. Your entire body tenses, as if on high alert. Jungkook wants to see you. He could have called you but he didn't, which makes you feel apprehensive. He wants a face to face, which to you, feels like a horrible scenario waiting to be played out. The last time you met in person did not go well.

"I'm on my way now, if you want to join me." Namjoon jingles his car keys at you for emphasis. The idea of not being entirely alone with Jungkook feels slightly more tolerable.

"Fine." You offer reluctantly. He spares you a few minutes to get ready and gather your things before the two of you head to the hospital together.

When you had phoned Jimin a few days prior to share the news it was no surprise to you that he was already aware. You wondered if he had been to visit Jungkook or had plans to, or if Jungkook even wanted that. You don't voice this aloud to Namjoon.

It's mostly quiet in the car and you stare out the window, hoping Namjoon doesn't feel uncomfortable. There's no tension between you anymore but you're not exactly best buds forever. He puts the radio on and you're thankful it eases the silence.

"What do you think about rehab?" You ask, still looking out the window. "For 'Kook. Do you think he needs it?" You clarify.

"I would love it if he went." Namjoon sighs, out of the corner of your eye he grips the wheel a little tighter. "Maybe this will be a wake-up call for him."

Hyerin had told you that Namjoon had been completely sober since they had agreed to try and be together for the sake of their unborn child. It had surprised you to an extent but Namjoon had never been as bad as Jungkook, never appeared as if anything was a problem (not infront of you anyway) and apparently he had no issue maintaining a sober life these days. Jungkook always did do everything better than everyone else.

Anticipation brings a slight tremble to your body as you trail behind Namjoon on your way to Jungkook's hospital suite. He agrees to go in first to tell Jungkook you're here. Your knee shakes when you sit on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs outside the room.

Every second that passes as you wait feels achingly slow. The low voices of the two men rumble through the thin wall but you can't make out exactly what is being said. You're not sure if you want to. Maybe you could run, it's not too late.

The door clicks open and Namjoon gestures for you to go inside. He doesn't follow.

Jungkook lies in a white bed in the center of the room, propped up on a few large soft pillows. The first thing you think when your eyes land on him is that he doesn't look good. He's thinner and bruised from the accident. "Hi." You whisper for some reason. The room feels too quiet.

"Hey, come sit." He croaks hoarsely, gesturing to a chair next to the bed. His eyes follow you as you cross the room and you feel awkward.

You don't know where to start. "How are you?" It feels redundant but it's the best you've got.

"Battered n' bruised." He smiles but it's clearly forced. "Thanks for coming."

"I was surprised you asked for me. But I'm glad you're okay. Pictures of your car were online. It looked wrecked."

He shrugs. "It's worse than it looks. Modern cars are actually pretty safe. Just a few broken ribs but I'm golden."

Jungkook rubs tiredly at his face, stifling a yawn. There's a new tattoo on his hand. You wonder if there's more. "Don't take this the wrong way but I thought you would be in jail."

"I was injured so they took me here. I have a trial in a few weeks. Probably will just get a DUI." He explains. "I'm sorry we had to meet like this but I've wanted to for a long time. Thought you'd take pity on me and visit."

"It's not pity that brings me here. " You say quietly. He's staring at you so intently you can't meet his gaze for much longer and opt to stare at your lap. "I care."

Jungkook reaches for your hand. Confused, you go to take it but stop for a moment. There's undeniable injection sites in between the blue black ink of his tattoos. He's been shooting up. What you don't know exactly but you know taking anything intravenously means things are bad. You take his hand, albeit shakily. You say nothing about what you noticed.

"I'm in trouble baby." He says. You've never heard him sound so vulnerable before. Your heart positively aches in your chest. "I'm in so much trouble."

"What's going on with you Kook?" You press, squeezing his hand.

"I think I'm out of control." To your complete and utter despair he blinks away a few tears. "I could have killed someone just because I wanted to get fucked up."

"You've always liked to get drunk Kookie..." You say joylessly.

"I don't know when it went from getting drunk to have fun and this. It's not fun anymore."

"It was so stupid of you. So stupid." You sigh. "You are better than that."

"I want to be."

He's gripping your hand so tightly, so desperately you die a little inside. He's broken. "You can get help, there's professionals who are trained to help people exactly like you. All you need to do is take it."

"I want to." He whispers.

"Do it." You are almost begging. "Just. Do. It."

"I'll get Hoseok to look into it for me. Take some time off and sort my head out." He offers you another smile but it's somber. You hope more than anything his words are genuine. Not much else is said between you, other than you offering whatever support and reinforcement you can give.

You hold his hand until you leave, kissing him on the forehead before you go.

***

Jimin strokes your hair absent-mindedly as you lay together in his bed. Your head rests on his chest as you scroll through your phone whilst he watches television. It's so sickeningly domestic, it surprises you how much you enjoy it. You find yourself googling rehab centre's in the area for Jungkook. It's not much but you want to help.

Something Jimin's watching makes him laugh and you peer up at him. "I love this show." He smiles when he notices you looking at him. "You should watch it with me."

"Yeah, in a minute." You mumble, going back to your device. You're composing a few links to send to Hoseok, even though as Jungkook's manager he is fully capable of doing it himself you just want to ensure Jungkook has the opportunity to consider all the options possible.

"What are you doing?" He asks. "It must be important to have captured your attention like this. Job searching?"

"No. I'm looking at rehab places for Jungkook."

"Oh." Jimin replies quietly. He understands why when you explain to him that you went to visit Jungkook. There's an arduous history that comes along with dating you, he knows that. In an ideal world, there wouldn't be but you think he likes you enough to put up with it. You hope. "That's nice of you."

"It's the least I can do. I'm giving Hoseok a list and then I'm all yours, babe. Hold on."

With a heavy sigh you put your phone on his nightstand and snuggle into him a little more. You hook one of your legs around his waist, as if you can't be close enough to him. His hand grips your thigh and holds it there. "Do you want to stay tonight?" He hums. Since you've rekindled things you've yet to actually spend the night together. Tonight you don't want to be alone.

"Please." You reply.

Sensing you might need it, Jimin swoops in for a kiss. Having not had sex yet every time you kiss lately it seems to get real dirty real fast. Neither of you show much self restriction now. It's almost too easy to slide over so you're lying on top of him, knees pressed into the mattress either side of his narrow hips. His hands grip your ass outside of your clothes, encouraging you to grind against him. It doesn't take him long to get hard from this.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you wonder if you're the last girl he's been intimate with. A possessive part of you hopes so but the thought goes as quickly as it comes.

Jimin has been so patient with you, so it's your turn to take the lead and let him know you're ready now. Breaking away from his lips you sit up, crossing your arms across your torso, pulling your shirt up and over you head. He watches you, dreamy and glassy-eyed as if he can't quite believe what's happening.

"You sure?" He breathes, eyes drinking in your newly exposed chest.

"Positive."

Resuming the kiss, his hands explore your body, feeling every inch of you. He quickly snaps your bra off and you help him slide it down your arms. You whine when his hands cup your breasts, thumbs grazing your nipples. You're extra sensitive there anyway but going a long time without being touched only heightens the sensations. Jimin keens at your reaction and grins against your lips.

"Mm, you like this." He whispers, tweaking one of the hardened buds. You only moan your agreement, rutting against him. Feeling how hard he is against you only makes your stomach lurch with arousal.

"Touch me Jimin, do anything you want. I've missed this." You tell him desperately, already feeling a little light headed.

"Fuck," He says wet mouth against your neck as his hands slide underneath the back of your leggings. "Take these off."

You roll on to your back and quickly wiggle the clothing down your hips while Jimin whips his own shirt off. He's on you in an instant, using his hips to push your legs apart. You're barely focusing on his sloppy kisses over your chest because you're too busy trying to get his pants off. He laughs at your failed attempt and his breath tickles.

"Get naked." You demand. "We've waited long enough."

The belt he's wearing slides through the loops on his pants and hits the floor with a thud. Briefly he stands to kick off his jeans and you can't help but ogle the outline of his hardness through the tight grey boxers slung low on his hips. Naked skin on skin makes you feel almost drunk when he's back in your arms. His body is warm and familiar and god, so soft you melt into him easily.

You're hot all over from his touch. His hands consume your body as if it's the first time he's every touched you and wants to explore everywhere.

The time for teasing can wait. You're already gripping his impossibly hard length underneath the material of his underwear, slowly stroking him up and down. He hisses at the contact.

"Do I need a condom?" Somehow there's still a rational part of his brain functioning right now, despite the handjob. Truth be told, you'd forgot that little detail.

"No, tested right after Jungkook."

"I'm still clean." Jimin assures you.

"Good."

He slides down the bed, ungracefully struggling out of his underwear. You bite back a laugh. He's adorable. "Can I eat you out first?" He pleads, already hovering dangerously close to your cunt. You agree eagerly. His beautiful mouth was always fantastic between your thighs.

Jimin's tongue drags through your wet lower lips from top to bottom and you shudder involuntarily. Lately you've been so busy you don't even remember the last time you'd masturbated so his touch is nearly overwhelming. It takes a few cursory experimental licks before he finds his rhythm again. You fist is hair keeping his head firmly in place so you can roll your hips against his face.

He pulls away so quickly you think somethings wrong. "Jimin - "

" - I need to be inside you, now. The friction of my cock against the bedsheets was already getting too much." He laughs, crawling over you. His cock slides against your dripping, now aching, pussy and you groan. "I haven't had sex since you." He whispers, face hovering over yours.

Your hands grip his shoulders while he glides into you. The stretch is a little much at first and he stills for a minute, watching your face for any reactions after seeing you wince. "Okay?" He murmurs, nosing your cheek and peppering a few kisses across your skin.

"Okay." You repeat. "Fuck me." You whisper running a thumb over his plush lip. You can't help but gaze at his face, eyes blown out. He's gorgeous in such a delicate yet sexy way. "Please."

He slowly begins to move his hips, in and out, in and out, in and out and your eyes flutter shut with pleasure. All you were thinking about was how perfect he feels. Your legs fall open a little wider and your back arches against the bed. "Yes, Jimin - right there - god."

His breath is hot against your skin from exertion. He feels so good, filling you up like this. The more he works his hips the better the stretch is. You claw at his ass, encouraging him to go harder.

"Oh, shit, shitshitshit." He moans loudly, driving into you forcefully. He stops for a moment and you look at him, expecting him to rearrange your position or maybe he wants something different. His eyes are tightly screwed shut and his head hangs, as if he's in pain.

"...Jimin?"

"I'm sorry."

You're lost. What is he sorry for? Then it dawns on you.

"Did you just - "

"Yeah."

He's embarrassed and he avoids your gaze. This has never happened to you before, you've heard the stories of guys coming too quickly but thankfully had never experienced it. Until now. You try not to look too upset at the loss of an orgasm tonight because you can already see how annoyed with himself Jimin is. "I'm sorry, it's been a while and you felt so good...and yeah. Fuck this is embarrassing."

His now softening cock slips out of you and you can feel the tell tale sign of his release being to leak out. "Hey," You pull him down to you, and reassuringly kiss him. These things happen. You hadn't expected to last long either. "It's okay. Don't worry about it, next time will be better."

"I wanted our next first time to be unbelievable." He shakes his head, burying it into the crook of your neck with a frustrated groan. "Let me at least make it up to you now."

He props himself up on his left elbow as his right hand makes it's way down your body, over your bellybutton and straight to your neglected center. Languidly circling your clit with the pads of his forefinger and index you sigh in pleasure. "Do you want my mouth, butterfly?" He licks your neck up to your jaw, kissing the side of your parted mouth.

"I've got your cum in me." You huff, feeling a little self conscious and well, gross. You can't imagine that will be an enjoyable experience for him.

"I don't care." He's already moving down your body before you can protest further. "Want to feel you cum on my face."

"Jimin." You whine, trying to close your legs.

"Shit, ok. Hold on." He tells you, jumping up from the bed and disappearing into the adjoining bathroom in all his naked glory. Puzzled, you can only watch and anticipate his next move. He returns with a washcloth and gently cleans you up.

"You are so freakin' cute sometimes." You grin, unable to quite comprehend his thoughtfulness. Your heart clenches. No guy has ever done anything like this before for you. Although it's not a major display of affection, or even a big deal really, the simple gesture reads; I want to take care of you.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." He shrugs. When he's done he disposes of the cloth and before he can resume eating you out you grab at him, crashing your lips to his.

"I like you so much." You mumble against him.

"I like you too."

Jimin kisses you slowly for a few moments more, hands wandering down your ribs before gripping the flesh of your thighs. He spreads them once more, before shifting so he's in a more advantageous position. "Can I? Now?" He breathes. You nod.

When he licks into you, your eyes flutter shut and you allow yourself to just enjoy it. His thumbs rub circles on the soft flesh of your inner thighs. He keeps his eyes trained on you, reading your body language. "Ji-min," You breathe. "Want your fingers. Fuck me with them."

The bed creaks as he shifts to comply with your request. Two fingers slip inside you as you clench down, Jimin moans against your clit. Your hips start moving of their own according, rocking against his mouth. When you cum it's so intense you almost sit up completely as your muscles contract. His hands anchor you down.

"Oh my god." You exhale, panting.

"I'm hard again." He laughs. "So sexy." He murmurs, kissing all over the inside of your thighs.

"You wanna go again?"

"If you do."

When Jimin fucks you again he's spooning you from behind, a hand curled underneath your thigh to hold you open for him. He peers down and watches his cock disappear inside of you, moaning at how wet you are. This feels like heaven to you. You clutch his free hand and lock your fingers together.

He cums with a loud groan against the back of your neck. Sweet praises are whispered in your ear as he holds you tightly to him. "You're my favourite, butterfly."

You tenderly look at him over your shoulder. "You're my favourite too."

***

Spending time with Jimin makes you feel like you're floating with pure, unwavering happiness whenever you leave him. He's so sweet and generous - you feel safe with him. Jungkook might have destroyed your ability to trust easily but Jimin is unknowingly building it back up for you. It might be because it's not what he says, it's what he does, all to let you know he cares.

When you leave his place the next morning, full of the breakfast he's made you (with coffee; he remembers how you like it - milk and no sugar), you catch yourself smiling unconsciously several times. You'd feel ridiculous if you weren't so happy.

There's a few moments where you feel guilty for being so elated, worrying about Jungkook. You make a mental note to contact Hoseok in a few days to check in. Hopefully Jungkook is in rehab by then, or at the very minimum taking serious steps towards it.

Home feels empty without Hyerin now. You need to find a roommate, and soon, but the idea of replacing her isn't one you're ecstatic about. She suggested her friend Taehyung, the person you'd met once when he was roped into helping you move. He might be your only hope at this point.

Your phone chimes as you settle into you room. When Namjoon's name appears on your screen it brings a frown to your face, he texts you so infrequently it can only be bad news. Your heart begins to race as you swipe the message open.

from: namjoon jungkook's disappeared from the hospital. He was supposed to be discharged today and no one can reach him. I know you care about him still so i thought you'd want to know. Let me know if he calls you ok?

You swear loudly as you re-read the message. If you know Jungkook as well as you think you do him leaving the hospital without telling anyone was an escape. You appreciate Namjoon reaching out but you almost wish you didn't know that information. Jungkook is in trouble and there's nothing you can do.

MASTERLIST

#jimin fanfiction #bts jimin fanfic #jimin ff #jimin smut #jimin angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts ff

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blackssuunn-mandoandyodito · 4 years

Text

Big dreams, expensive taste

Part three: The king of the concrete jungle

Maxwell Lord x f!reader

You can find the other parts in my Masterlist.

Rating: M

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), anger, swear words, mild sexual harrasment, sex, no condom (PLEASE USE ONE, SAFE SEX IS HAPPY SEX), maybe power kink?. Let me know if you think I should add something.

A/N: I am once again asking you to picture this gif as Maxwell, bc there is little to no content of him and I gotta work with what we do have. Enjoy this bc I fucking loved it.

Summary: your dynamic with Maxwell changes as the weeks pass, coming to a point you both had seen coming. And it goes even better than you expected.

You turned out to be even more efficient than Maxwell thought you would be.

Every time he asked for something, you already had it available. If he wanted something to be done, it had been done already. You answered his questions even before he asked, knowing what he would say just by looking at his face. You were punctual. You were organized. You were perfect.

He kept on wondering if you were always like that or if it was only while you worked for him. He's been so efficient these last days he wishes you had stopped him from entering his own building months ago.

He rolls the golden ring on his index finger as he looks at you, moving around the board room table with stacks of paper in your arms. There's a crease between your eyebrows that he has noticed appears only when you're concentrated or nervous. This time, you're most likely both.

He ordered you to schedule a meeting with the soon to be associates in London, to arrange a partnership he had the second he met them, but they've been playing hard to get. It's been bothering him so much he's been tenser and more snappy, and he doesn't know how to let it all out, it's just getting worse with every second that goes. But if he's being honest with himself, he has never snapped at you for fear of you resigning. You don't handle bullshit from anyone, he knew that the second he saw you.

And if he's honest with himself again, he'd love to take the stress out with you.

He has been wanting to take you so bad for weeks, walking on to his office and getting a hard-on almost instantly when he looks at you is getting old now, having to stay in his chair until some gross thought he conjures scares it away. It's painful, seeing you walk around his office and go back to yours without being able to do anything. The way you move as if you own the place, knowing how every single thing works and understanding everything so easily. It makes him burn, how in control you seem to be.

He wants to see you lose it, that's mainly what's killing him.

You walk towards him and stand in front of his desk, gripping your black leather portfolio with stretched knuckles. "Everything is ready, sir"

He nods, smirking at you with his head tilted to one side. "You need to relax," your face breaks out of the calm demeanor for a second, annoyed with his words. He can see you want to say something, but you purse your lips and nod. It sends something running down his spine, seeing you break for a second. It just increases his desire.

"15 minutes," he mutters, checking his F. P. Journe watch and stands up, smoothing his black suit and crossing his arms. You nod again, walking outside and talking with Amanda one last time to check everything is right. He has no doubt you have everything perfectly sorted out, with no room for mistake. And he also knows he will be able to close the deal, but these men can be hard to handle. They're little old money pricks. He hates old money.

You come back and he moves to his chair on the board room table, quickly giving everything a last look over. He's pleased to see all is where it's supposed to be. Content with your work, he leans against his chair and waits.

He can hear his watch ticking in the silence of the room. You come to stand beside him, both of you looking straight to the door, waiting. He breathes deeply, feeling how the nervousness comes off of you in waves. But it doesn't show on your face, nor your posture. How you manage, he doesn't know.

Multiple footsteps sound outside the office, with formal greetings to Amanda as she lets them inside.

Maxwell straightens, putting the businessman face mask on. His face turns serious, with square shoulders and hard eyes that pierce through the 5 men that enter the room. Their posture is too proper, high on their golden breed, and thinking that everything they touch has a blessing seems to be the way they act.

Two of them are blonde, with cocky smiles and blue eyes that seem almost fake. They're taller than Max, but it doesn't intimidate him. If anything, he raises an eyebrow and scoffs quietly, turning to look at you. Now you can also see amusement in his eyes. He's going to handle them just fine.

The other three are brunette, with tanned skin possibly caused by holidays spent in the summer of some Mediterranean land, and green eyes that seem to shine with malice. They look like siblings, but one of them towers over the others. He seems as conceited as the other ones, looking older and more experienced just by how serious he tries to act, and it does a bad job at hiding how spoiled he must have grown up. You see right through his facade and would bet anything on Maxwell being able to do so too.

The shorter one, with cutting cheekbones and sharp nose, looks at you and smirks, winking. You stop yourself from rolling your eyes and don't make anything to return the attention.

"Good evening, Mr. Lord", the one that seems older gets closer, extending his arm and gripping him in a handshake. Max nods, looking him straight in the eye. The other four go silent when the room gets stuffy, tension seeping from their pores. You stay by his side.

"Good evening, Mr. Reuben." Maxwell turns to look at the table, gesturing for them to sit. They comply, walking to take a seat. He notices how they try to choose a chair that isn't close to the glass window, and both of you have to repress a smirk.

The meeting starts, with Maxwell quickly wrapping them in an engaging talk about gains and expansion. Your cheeks get hot and your insides heat up at seeing Maxwell's power take over five grown men, handling them in whichever way he desires. Knowing you have helped him this time makes you feel like flying. You feel like a queen next to a king taking over a kingdom, using only words as a weapon.

He looks at you every time he needs you to do something, without saying anything and silently communicating his wishes. All men look at each other and seem quietly amazed by your interactions, how he doesn't seem to order you but rather ask you for things. It is never condescending or disrespectful, so fluid and easy it takes their breath away. You work together, even though it may seem you work for him.

You see the exact second Maxwell has them wrapped around his finger. They are absolutely engrossed by him, listening to everything he says and not looking away, following him around the room. They all look like children looking for the first time at a magic trick. He turns to you and smirks with a predatory smile, absolutely convinced that he has already won the deal. Judging by the state of all five of them, he surely has.

For the first time since they appeared, you show something other than seriousness and smile back at him, something like pride and satisfaction showing in your eyes. It makes his heart jump.

The contract passes through their hands as they sign, not hesitating and trusting completely on Max to take care of what they are signing into. You don't understand how, and it scares you slightly how easy it is for him to entangle people. You wonder if he has ever done something like that to you, if he ever would.

Amanda comes inside right on time to pour some expensive wine in glasses you don't even know where they came from, making a toast and drinking happily. Max exudes satisfaction, grinning behind the glass.

They all stand up and shake hands one last time before they leave again. All stress and tension leave your body slowly, knowing that no matter what happens now, Maxwell has his deal secured.

But as they start walking outside, the one that winked at you turns and gets uncomfortably close to your body.

"Miss" his voice is so high pitched it nearly hurts your ears, "would you be interested in going out with me?"

His hand creeps up your arm and ends up next to your neck, barely stopping from touching your face.

You have to stop yourself from recoiling, instead shaking your head and smiling politely.

"Thank you, but I'm not interested."

The man chuckles, rolling his eyes and turning to leave.

"I should have guessed," he mutters, fixing his tie. "You're just another cheap bitch"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Max's blood boils in his veins, fury making his skin crawl and his eyes burn. For a moment, his vision turns red.

When he moves to pull him back and beat him up, your hand firmly but softly stops him.

"If you want to think that, you may," your voice is so steady and cold Max looks at you, stunned. " It does not mean it's true, and even if it were it would not make you any less of a spoiled brat who can't get anything without forcing someone into it. You disgust me."

Without another word, you let go of Maxwell's hand and turn to walk to your office. Both of them look at you, open-mouthed.

Fury still pumps in Max's veins, but he takes a deep breath and tries to repress the violence that threatens to show. Even if he decided to take that path, he won't get his hands dirty.

He turns to look at the man, with a hurricane inside his heart and what could be lava shining in his eyes.

"I hope you have enough of the old money you grew with," he threatens, whispering so low the other four go completely unaware. "because I assure you you won't be making any in this life"

It scares him back against the door, nodding without being able to speak. He's gone pale, and his hands look like they're shaking.

Good, Maxwell thinks.

He looks at him practically run away from his office, shutting the door behind him. He can feel how his body is tense, but he urges it to relax.

He feels hot, burning. Rage is not something he feels often, used to have everything working the way he wants. And usually, not a single person is stupid enough to mess with something or someone that matters to him.

He turns to look at your office, and there's no sound coming from inside. He doubts you're affected by everything that just happened, but he definitely is.

His hand goes over his face, angry. His rings feel cold against his skin, grounding him more.

With a deep breath, he walks slowly to your office and knocks, saying your name.

"Can I come in?" he brings his hand to his pocket, waiting for your answer almost nervous. He's not used to feeling like this, but you do something to him. He fears it will be one false move and you're gone. He doesn't want you to go.

Your door opens, and you appear very serious but for him, that's nothing new. What surprises him is how your hands seem to be shaking slightly.

Without a word, you move to the side and let him in, leaving the door open. He walks inside and stands there, awkward, and not knowing what to say. If he asks you if you're okay he's sure you won't like it, so after a few seconds of searching what to say and not finding any good options, he stays quiet and waits for you to speak first.

"I'm okay, in case you're wondering." It startles him how well you can read him. "And thank you for defending me."

It takes him a moment to remember you can see outside through the glass but he can't. Weirdly, the thought sounds similar to the way you two seem to work.

He nods. "You don't have to thank me, it's the least I could do."

He sees surprise in your eyes, but it doesn't show anywhere else on your face.

The air is thick, heavy. There is something that is pushing him to get closer to you, to physically check if you're really okay. He knows the man didn't touch you and he's sure he would have made him bleed if he had dared to, but there are other ways to shake someone other than physical.

You cross your arms and turn away from him, looking down at the city. He admires your body, your posture. How strong you seem to stand, how unreachable you look. And he's used to fighting for what he wants if that's what it takes, but he doesn't want to fight for you. He wants you to want him back, to really want him.

Judging by the signals he has seen the last weeks, you most likely do. But he's not gonna take anything for granted.

Slowly, he moves closer to you until his body is perfectly aligned with yours but without touching. His breath hits hard against the back of your head, sending shivers down your spine. You close your eyes, subconsciously moving your head to one side and letting him see more of your soft skin. You uncross your arms, letting them hang by your sides.

One of his hands moves up and hovers over your shoulders while the other gets close to your hand, so close you can almost feel his touch. It's an illusion, you know it.

He whispers beside your ear. "Is this okay?"

You gulp, not daring to open your eyes when you nod.

"Say it." His voice sounds commanding.

"You can touch me." You finally mutter. A shaky breath leaves your lips when he laces his fingers with yours, pressing your shoulder and pulling you back against him. You're flush against him now, feeling his chest rise and fall against your back.

His fingers move to your neck, caressing at the pace his mouth kisses the beginning of your spine. He can feel you fall back into him slightly, relaxing and letting him take control.

A mischievous smile graces his lips.

He turns you around to face him. His hands move to your back, down until they come to cup your butt. It makes you gasp, opening your eyes to look at his blown brown ones.

He's torn between being rough, wrecking you completely, or listening to something inside his mind that tells him he should be good to you first, make you see stars just from his touch.

He decides to listen to it.

"I want to show you how you should be taken care of," he whispers, "can I?"

You're speechless, only able to look at him and nod. He doesn't seem to like it, pulling you harder against his body and digging his fingers in your skin.

"Speak" he orders. "I won't do anything if you don't."

You take in a harsh breath, feeling the air burn your lungs. "Show me."

Pleased with your answer, he grabs your jaw and presses his lips against yours at the same time you move your hands to his chest. The fabric of his suit crumples under your fingers as he licks your lips and takes over your mouth, your heart soaring inside your body.

His hands move to push you back until you hit your desk, making you fall into it slightly. Your kiss breaks, leaving you breathless.

His knees hit the floor with a dull sound. If someone had told you before that you would have Maxwell Lord kneeling for you, you would have laughed to tears.

His hands move frantically up your legs until he touches the edge of your dress and rips it open, pulling it until it's completely in half and falls over your shoulders like a jacket, leaving your body exposed.

If you weren't so turned on, you would probably complain. Your mind is in a completely different space though.

His fingers search until they find the elastic of your underwear and he's greeted by lace that matches your bra covering your skin. He rips them open too.

He nudges you to sit on the desk. You comply, and he pushes your feet up on it, with your legs spread open for him and your knees bent. Your heels fall off from your feet.

He caresses your legs, your thighs, sending goosebumps over your skin.

"You're so beautiful," he mouths against your body, trailing up to your core. You look down at him, threading your fingers through his hair.

You shudder as he kisses the skin around your mound, licking at everything. You get wetter by the second, aching for his touch

"Take care of me," you moan, thrusting into his mouth. It makes him chuckle, and he finally moves to lick with his tongue flat against your clit.

You throw your head back, moaning and squeezing your eyes shut. His tongue thrusts inside you with vigor, pulling you closer by your legs. His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks hard, making you give a short yell that echoes around the room.

"You like it?" He asks, with a rough voice that makes the arousal go even higher.

"Y-yes," you manage to stutter out, afraid that he will stop if you don't answer.

His thumb moves your bundle of nerves in circles, making your hips rise. He quickly slaps the side of your leg, stilling you.

You gasp, feeling your body tingle with everything he does. The position you are in leaves you exposed to him, and you can see out your window to the city. If the building was less high, you know anyone could look and see how Maxwell Lord is kneeling to pleasure you. The thought sends a shot of power and excitement through your system.

He laps at your soft skin, sucking up at your wetness and enjoying every second of it. Your hand pulls at his hair, pulling a moan out of his mouth.

His lips are red when he moves to suck at your swollen clit again, groaning and sending the vibration all over your body.

You grind against his face desperately when the hotness spreads down your belly, making you feel near the edge. He increases his movements for a second, moving one finger up your slit before pulling away and stopping.

You whimper at the loss of contact, but he stands up to stay between your legs and moves his hands up to cup your breasts through the material. You bite your lip, your eyes rolling back into your head as his fingers get behind and open your bra. He quickly grabs one of your nipples and pinches it, kneading your skin with his palm.

His mouth wraps around the other one and sucks with force, sending electric shots over your breast. He rolls your nipple around with his tongue, getting it hard.

You can feel his erection through his pants and decide you've neglected him enough, fumbling with his belt and popping it open easily.

He moans against your skin when your hand moves inside to grip at his dick, moving your thumb over the head covered with pre come. He's hard enough to cut diamonds.

"Please," you moan.

He breaks away from your breast with a wet pop, his lips glistening with spit.

"Please what?" His voice sounds even rougher than before, with full blown pupils almost to the point that you can't see the brown of his eyes anymore.

He can see something take over you just as your hand tightens around his shaft, making him give a choked off moan.

"Fuck me." you say. It almost sounds like an order, and if it were he wouldn't mind.

He gulps, not trusting his voice to keep steady. He pushes his pants down and they fall to the floor to pool around his ankles.

He aligns his cock with your entrance, pushing the head in only slightly before he pulls away and then does it again.

A needy sound leaves your lips, and he aches to hear more. But he said he would take care of you, and that's what he's gonna do.

He pushes his throbbing length inside you, making you feel every inch with how slow he's going. You grip his shoulders, digging your nails on his skin and most likely leaving marks.

He's stretching you so good and feels so deep inside you in this position you can't help but whimper, burying your face against his neck. His hands move to cup your ass again, pulling your hips closer to him.

Your legs burn from the stretch, but you could not move even if you wanted.

He lets his whole body take over you, making you feel so protected and full it is nearly overwhelming.

His hands dig against your skin with a bruising force as he starts to move inside you, making you feel high on something you don't think you've ever experienced before.

"You're so fucking tight." He gritts out next to your ear. It makes you smile, how much he seems to be struggling to control himself.

You rise your face to look at him, holding his face and pulling him close to kiss him.

His pace quickens, slapping sounds filling the office along with grunts and moans that leave both your lips.

You scream again when he hits an specific spot inside you, and something close to a growl leaves his chest.

He moves to bite a mark in your neck, leaving his teeth printed there.

Every thrust sends you closer to paradise, pushing and pulling and making everything feel bigger, better.

He's hot against you, sweating and making little sounds that make your arousal grow.

You wish you could return his passion, thrust back and make him feel how good everything he's doing is. But you can't, you can barely stay upright with how much force he's putting into every thrust.

Something primal burns inside him at seeing how you submit to him, to how he treats you.

His movements become harder, shorter. He starts losing his pace and you know he's close too. His hand moves to circle your clit with his fingers, making you open your mouth in a silent scream.

"Come for me," Maxwell's voice comes with lighting passion that leaves you no option but listen to him.

You scream, pulling at his jacket with shaking legs as he keeps fucking you, and his ragged breath lets you know he's not too far behind.

A deep yell leaves his lips as he comes inside you, burying himself deep until the waves of hot white pleasure start to subside.

When your body stops shaking, he pulls out and moves to grab tissues to clean himself up.

You don't move, trying to catch your breath. He doesn't say anything, just pulls his pants up and kneels down to lick you clean.

You're still sensitive, so your body tries to get away from the attention but he stops you, holding you by your feet. Little whines leave your mouth as he keeps going until you're clean, sending a new wave of arousal at the thought of Max tasting himself in you.

He stands up, buttoning his jacket closed and looking far more composed than you.

His voice betrays him. "Do you have clean clothes here?"

It sounds so soft and caring it makes you feel weird, but you nod.

"Good," he says, moving to the door and stepping outside to leave you to dress alone, closing the door behind him. You see a satisfied smile show at his face as he sits down on his throne, spreading his legs open.

Your brain is still fuzzy from pleasure and there's a loopy smile on your face, but as you take out the dress and put it on you hear Amanda come inside and get close to his desk with an anxious expression.

"Sir, you have to go pick up Alex," her voice sounds too stressed. You frown, not recognizing the name.

A somber expression takes over Maxwell's features and he stands up immediately, not saying anything as he picks up his phone and rushes out of the office.

You stay standing there paralized in the middle of your office, confused by how things happened so fast in the last two minutes.

What could be so important for Max to run away without saying anything and just after giving you the best orgasm in your life?

Big Dreams taglist: @evidenceofzoe @the-feckless-wonder @aeryntheofficial @cryptkeepersoul @cable-kenobi @fruitsaladtrees @poenariuniverse @a-killvr-queen

#max fic #max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #ww84 fanfiction #ww84 #pedro pascal fanfiction #reader insert #my writing

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mollyhw14 · 3 years

Text

Fallen Angel : Tied to the Devil's Daughter (demon au Lee Donghyuk / Haechan ) ♛ CH2♛

Seraphina was beyond livid.

She'd come to the dance studio to let off steam but it felt like the complete opposite. Putting on some music, she decided to let loose and see if dancing would at least loosen her temper a little bit.

Stretching to warm up, she slowly began to let her body flow with the rhythm, eventually flowing into the choreography she'd been practicing for the last week. Flawlessly, she completed every step, finishing with a grande jete and her final pose. Once the music stopped she collapsed to the floor, sweating but feeling more alive from the buzz of the dance. Prying herself from the floor, she heard distant clapping from the door way making her whip her head round fast to see who had interrupted her alone time.

Phina was definitely not impressed to see the boy she had glared at previously before for taking over her time slot.

"Wow princess didn't know you were quite the ballet dancer. I must say, doesn't really fit your temper like but you got some moves." His voice was almost teasing-like and this irritated Seraphina a lot. Getting annoyed by his presence, she scowled at him, waiting for his explanation as to why he was even there. Not getting an answer she took matters into her own hands.

"So you gonna tell me why the fuck you're here or am I gonna have to slap some sense in to you?"

He chuckled at her tone, she sounded pissed and it only amused him.

"Now now, sunshine, that's no way to speak to people is it?" He made sure to drag out the word sunshine just to piss her off even more.

"You call me that again and I'll snap your fucking neck!" She'd moved to grab her phone, getting angrier the more she was in his presence.

"Feisty one aren't you? Princess, as much as I'd love to break your neck too, don't think it would go down to well with the police now would it?" His condescending tone irritated her and she stormed out, barging past his tall ass to find her next class.

"By the way, I came to take over my time slot, not that I didn't mind you staring at me Sunshine," he shouted from behind her.

'Staring? Fucking idiot, he's obviously blind to not see I was trying to burn him with my eyes' she thought to herself as she slowed down once entering her classroom.

Maths was Seraphina's most hated class. It wasn't because she wasn't good at it, if anything she was top of the class. However, she unfortunately had to share this class with the demons in the year above. Three of them being the dicktrio who thought they ran the school. Their dumbasses had dropped a grade and now she had to have this class with them. Not only that, her teacher was a demon too, favouring them more amongst the humans within the class, no matter how dumb they were. Phina often wondered to herself if there was many more teachers who were also demons, and they just kept to their human form?

Waiting for the teacher to come, she glanced around, trying to not make contact with the black orbs that almost laughed at her from across the room. The demons giggled to themselves, knowing how much humans hated eye contact with them, believing they would die from a single look. However this wasn't the case for Phina, she was introverted, and this was why she hated eye contact. She didn't give one shit if this girl was a demon, she just knew the moment they shared eye contact, she wouldn't hear the end of it.

"How's my favourite person!" Phina heard the angelic voice of her friend, before being engulfed by a pair of arms.

"Cheonie, you're strangling me!" Phina managed to choke out before her best friend finally sat in the seat next to her.

"Can I not be happy to see my best friend? Have you calmed down yet?"

Before Phina could reply, she heard the high pitch voice shout out from the other side of the room.

"Shut up Chansa, you might as well be an Angel you're that fucking annoying!"

Hurt flashed across her friends face and Seraphina saw red. How dare she insult her best friend.

"First of all her name is CHEONSA, get it right bitch! Maybe mind your own fucking god damn business before insulting my friend. At least she has a heart unlike you whores."

She glared straight into the black pits of hell, and everyone around them muted. All shocked that not only had she stuck up to the three dicktrio demons, but also because she actually looked them straight in the eye.

Shock was evident on the demons’ faces, but was gone as quick as it came.

"Did you just call us whores?"

"Yes and what the fuck are you going to do about it?"

"You're dead human bitch-"

Just as the girl was about the pounce at Phina, the door swung open to reveal both the teacher and the person she hated just as much as the dicktrio. Lee Haechan.

"What are you doing Seraphina! Get in your seat right this instant and don't utter a single word for the rest of class." Black orbs glowed from the door way at her, stopping the demon in her tracks.

Seraphina was beyond mad. Not only had she been humiliated by the teacher, but that the demons always got their own way. The smirk on their faces showing everyone who had the higher ground.

"Utter bullshit" she mumbled to herself, Cheonsa gave her a reassuring smile.

"Right class we have a new student joining us, Lee Haechan. Make him feel welcome and please, no funny business. Haechan please take a seat next to Seraphina."

Could Phina's day get any worse? Banging her head on her desk, she heard a low chuckle followed by, "You really are a badass aren't you Sunshine? Going against a demon you're definitely asking for a death wish."

Oh how she wished she was dead.

The bell rang signally the end of the day, and nobody was more exciting to be leaving school that Seraphina. The ringing of the bell actually made her smile for the first time that day, as she skipped down the stairs to go meet her best friend outside.

Finding Cheonsa under the school's apple tree, they linked arms before heading off the their usual cafe down the road.

"Why don't you ask Mark if he wants to join us, you said he's been stressed out with exams recently he'll need a break." Cheonsa looked at her friend for an answer, watching as she frowned at the mention of her brother.

"I know, he really stresses himself out too much, mums had to put a lock on the fridge because he's been stress eating."

Mark was Seraphina's older brother, who never let her forget that he was the older ones. He was doing his finally exams to get himself into college, and the boy literally stressed himself out so much over it, he would lash out at anybody who distracted him.

"Do you think he'll be calm enough to even talk to me on the phone?"

Cheonsa hesitated,

"He should be done with them soon, he'd probably appreciate his sister inviting him out."

With that said, Phina brought the phone to her ear to call her brother, entering the all too familiar cafe.

"Yah what do you want I'm busy Phi!"

Phina closed her eyes at the loudness of his voice, knowing her brother would react this way she sighed.

"Never mind. I was going to ask if you'd like to come hang out with us at the cafe but if you're busy just leave it." She snapped at him down the phone, her temper getting the better of her.

"No wait!" the voice on the other side made her jump. He really needed to stop shouting.

"I'll come, I'm sorry for shouting I need a break these exams are driving me fucking insane." His voice was more softer this time, regretting the way he'd spoke to his sister. After all, she was just trying to be nice.

"I'll see you in 5."

Just as the phone line went dead, Cheonsa was walking over with two cups in her hand.

"You know me to well Cheonsie, a peppermint hot chocolate is always the way to my heart."

They both chuckled and sat in their usual spot, before Phia decided to fill her friend in on the new kid.

"Honestly you should've seen him Cheonsa, he thought he was fucking amazing, interrupting my dance slot-"

"Hello to my favourite sibling!" Her brother practically screamed from across the cafe, interrupting her rant.

"Mark I'm your only sibling."

"I know that but still... anyway I brought Renjun because he was with me when you called." Renjun stuck his head out from behind Mark, waving at the two girls.

"Hey Rejun, how've you been?" Cheonsa beamed up at the blonde, eyes never leaving the male.

"I've been good thank you, just trying to finish my portfolio for art."

Phina almost gagged at the way her friend was making heart eyes at the man. She pulled Mark into the booth they were sat at, earning a glare from her friend at their chosen seating arrangement.

"I like your new hair Renjun, have you dyed it?" Cheonsa's attention was back onto the male, swooning at the way he blushed that she'd noticed his hair.

"Yeah I just fancied a change. Do you think it looks okay-"

He was about the finish his sentence when the sudden buzz of his phone interrupted him. Confused, he put the phone to his ear, quizzing the caller.

"What's wrong? Are they being bad again?- Well I don't know....I can ask wait a sec-"

"Hey Cheonsa is it okay if my friend joins us?"

His eyes were pleading at her to let his friend come, and Phina wondered why he would even be pleading when he knew fair well that Cheonsa would agree to anything he said.

"Of course, anything for you." Cheonsa giggled, causing Phina to fake gag, and earning a chuckle from her brother and death glare from her friend.

After getting off the phone, Renjun announced his friend was round the corner and would go and grab him a drink from the counter, asking if anybody else wanting one too.

As he neared the counter, her friend sighed, love evident on her face.

"He's just so charming isn't he?" She sighed again, looking towards the boy she had a huge crush on.

"Yeh he's alright I guess-"

"Oh hey Sunshine, didn't know I'd be seeing you here."

Phina's eyes nearly popped out their sockets at the high pitched voice she could recognise anywhere.

Why did her day just keep getting worse.

#Haechan #nct #lee hacehan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck au #nct dream donghyuck #donghyuck fanfic #nct donghyuck #demons #demon au #angels and demons #fallen angel #Mark #mark lee #renjun #huang renjun

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Signed, Sealed, Delivered, Chapter 2 (Crygi, Jan x Nicky) - Joley

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Crystal had spent two days trying to figure out how to explain this new situation to Gigi. She considered testing the waters by joking about it, then thought maybe she should just rip the Band-Aid off and tell her outright. But any train of thought drove her right into a wall. And Jan wasn’t much help either.

“Maybe you could text her,” Jan had mused offhandedly. She was trying to help as much as she could – her suggestion was made while she was sitting in front of her laptop researching what actually went into planning a wedding, method acting, if you will. They were committed to this lie now, it seemed like there was no choice but to go all in.

“Text her?!” Crystal’s eyes were wide, she couldn’t possibly be serious. “I can’t just be like, ‘Hey Geege, Jan told Nicky we’re getting married lol T-T-Y-L and hope for the best.”

“Well, obviously not that, no one says T-T-Y-L anymore.”

“Jan!”

Jan sighed, spinning her desk chair around to face her. “I’m sorry, but I already have a lot of ground to cover. Telling Gigi is your job.”

Crystal threw her head back and whined. “But I don’t wanna.”

“Would you rather I do it?”

She quickly put her hands up in surrender. “No, no, I got it,” she assured. “She’s still at the studio, I’ll just… go there and tell her when she’s finished. I’ll call you if I need backup.”

“Get it done, sis.” Jan hummed before turning back to the screen, mumbling under her breath about how unreasonably expensive wedding bouquets are. “They’re flowers. Why would you pay that much for fucking flowers?”

And Crystal had hoped the walk she took from there to the studio would help her build her nerve, but she was hit with a new wave of anxiety the moment Gigi saw her.

Gigi waved her over, not straying from her work station. “I’ll be about another fifteen minutes or so, but you can just hang out if you don’t mind waiting.”

“Oh, yeah, no that’s fine,” she assured, sitting at one of the empty stations. On a normal day, she would enjoy watching Gigi at work. There was something almost magical about watching someone create art they were passionate about that Crystal found absolutely entrancing. Plus, it was Gigi – she could watch her read the phone book.

“So, what’s up with you?” Gigi asked casually, holding up two different types of lace against white fabric.

Crystal wasn’t sure what she opened her mouth to say, but she ended up blurting out, “We need to pretend to be getting married when Nicky comes here to visit Jan.”

That stopped Gigi in her tracks. She set the lace down and turned to face her friend. “I’m sorry, what?”

Crystal took a deep breath, feeling almost relieved that she had ripped the bandage off, but still worried that she wouldn’t be able to explain herself in a way that would actually get the other girl on board with this charade. “So… here’s the thing. Jan obviously really wants to see Nicky in person, but they haven’t been able to commit to a plan. So I, being the super smart person I am, suggested she tell her there’s an event coming up that she should fly out for. And… long story short that event is our wedding and now we’re along for the ride.”

Gigi blinked, taking the time to digest the information she received. “What the fuck, Crystal?” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Well, when’s the ‘wedding?’”

“In like, a month. Maybe two.”

With her lips still in a fine line, Gigi let out a strangled noise of frustration. “In a month or two,” she repeated, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. “You know what? Fuck it, let’s do what we have to do.”

Crystal felt a massive weight lift from her chest and she exhaled deeply. “Really?”

“I mean, I’m never gonna let you hear the end of it, but yeah. Sure. Why not?” She shrugged. Glancing over at her dress, she decided she’d done enough work for the day. “I guess we better reconvene with Jan then.”

As she pushed herself back to her feet, Crystal still felt a little lightheaded. Sure, she was thanking every possible deity that Gigi was on board with this half-baked scheme, but now she would have far fewer chances to suppress and ignore her feelings. “Yeah, she’ll definitely appreciate that.”

When they did return to the apartment, Jan was still on her laptop in her room, deeply immersed in her research. It took Crystal and Gigi getting right in front of her for her to even become aware of her presence. “Oh, hey guys,” she greeted, setting her laptop next to her on the bed before looking at Crystal. “Did you tell her?”

“Very subtle, Jan,” Crystal retorted flatly. “But yes, I told her.”

“When did you tell Nicky to come here?” Gigi asked.

Jan shrugged. “I didn’t give a specific date yet. So, you know, work that out amongst yourselves. Also, you guys should get registered at some stores. At least that way if someone stumbles upon it, you could get like… a toaster or something.”

“I do love toast,” Gigi mused. “But I wanna know just how far we’re taking this. Like, are Crystal and I gonna pretend to get married? Do we break up? Or are you gonna wait til after you get Nicky in bed with you and then tell her the truth?”

“I… haven’t actually gotten that far yet,” she admitted. “I don’t think we should stage a fake wedding, though. Because then you guys are just gonna have to keep up the act indefinitely or get a fake divorce. We’ll work it out as we keep going.”

Crystal leaned against Jan’s desk, finally coming to terms with the fact that the three of them were definitely not backing out of this, that there was no chance of just scrapping the plan and calling it a day. “So other than that, what do we need to do?”

Jan picked her laptop back up. “We need to make a couple of invitations, I figure we could just get one or two free samples, just to send one to Nicky and keep one for our own records. Crystal needs to rent or borrow a dress, and we should probably go through the motions of planning a wedding without like, going fifty thousand dollars in debt.”

“Rings!” Gigi suddenly exclaimed. “What are we gonna do about rings? That’s a pretty fucking important part of being engaged.”

Crystal and Jan looked at each other, both of them searching for an answer, but there was the slightest bit of amusement in their expressions when it became clear that Gigi was now taking this as seriously as they were. “I’m sure we could get some convincing fake ones online. It’s not like she’s a professional jewelry appraiser,” Jan suggested.

“I’m not wearing something that’ll turn my finger green,” Gigi warned with a grave deadpan. “I’ll see if my mom has anything we can borrow. She has a collection of vintage and like, random, unique jewelry. I’m sure she’ll let me temporarily poach something off of her.”

Jan arched her brow. “So you’re gonna rope her into this too? Or are you gonna give her some other excuse?”

That gave Gigi pause, and she realized she was either going to bring another person into the party or dig all of them into a deeper hole. “I should probably just tell her,” she decided, the other two girls nodding in agreement.

“I would really like to watch this conversation take place,” Crystal piped up.

“Well, why don’t you guys do that? I’ve got a call with Nicky in ten,” Jan chimed in, looking at her phone.

“Well, far be it for us to interrupt your sexy Skype session,” Gigi retorted with a soft laugh. “Come, Crystal,” she curled her finger, and the two of them left Jan to her own devices.

Jan waved them off before getting up to fix her hair and makeup in the mirror, then moved her laptop to her desk so she could look at the screen dead-on. When she saw Nicky calling, she beamed brightly as she answered it. “Well damn, what sort of runway are you dressed up for?”

Nicky laughed and looked down. Her hair was styled up in a bouffant and the normally straight locks were in gentle waves. Her makeup – which Jan knew she did herself – was immaculate beyond reproach. “Don’t jinx it, I had my friend take some headshots for my portfolio today. So, fingers crossed there are runways in the future.”

“It’s basically a given, I can just tell,” Jan grinned, her elbows propped on her desk and face in her hands. The look in her eyes was full to the brim with enamored adoration; even she was surprised that Nicky hadn’t picked up on her feelings. “And then I’ll get to say I knew you way back when.”

“Bitch please,” she scoffed. “If I ever get famous, you know I’m flying your ass out here first class. It wouldn’t be fun without my sweet Janice by my side.”

She blushed, her hands moving from her face to stroke her ponytail. Hearing Nicky call her ‘hers’ in any capacity had her heart ready to leap right out of her chest. It was times like that that made her wonder if it would’ve been that crazy for her to profess her feelings, if she was building all of this fear and anxiety over owning her feelings for nothing. It sometimes felt like a declaration of love was dancing on the tip of her tongue, threatening to slip past her lips.

But nothing was ever enough to get her over that hurdle. Her stubborn fear of rejection outweighed even common sense. So, instead, she kept it sweet and vague. “Well, you know I’ll always be there whether you like it or not.”

“I’m offended you think there’s a chance I wouldn’t.” Nicky scoffed playfully. “Anyway, what have you been up to today?”

“Oh, just… helping the girls with planning and stuff.” It was technically true, so she counted it as one less lie she was telling her. She found that the easiest thing to do was to just keep the focus off herself until she felt more confident in this charade. “It’s just boring details really. Have you been working on learning any songs lately?”

Nicky shook her head. “Actually, I was hoping to convince you to sing for me,” she cooed, batting her lashes in an over-exaggerated manner.

It was a look that Jan was an undeniable sucker for that look, and she was certain that Nicky had figured out that much. “I suppose I could do that. Any requests?”

Nicky tilted her head, taking a moment to think. “Can you do that one from Grease? The magic one?”

Jan giggled softly, knowing she meant ‘Those Magic Changes.’ The song had been buried in her repertoire for ages until she’d stumbled upon a clip of her performing it in her freshman year of college. She’d sent it to Nicky, just thinking it’d be a cute throwback of sorts, but her penpal absolutely loved it, and brought it up every time she could. She didn’t quite get it, but she was thrilled that there was something she could do that would make her so happy. “For you? Of course.”

Once Jan found the karaoke version of the song on her phone, she played it and sang along, serenading Nicky as she’d done a number of times. While it was night time in France, it was still late afternoon for her, so she wasn’t concerned about the volume. Though, even if it had been later, she probably would have risked it – it just wouldn’t be the same if she used her ‘neighbor friendly’ voice.

Nicky applauded cheerfully when Jan finished. Her eyes were bright and warm with the enthusiasm of a child who just heard their favorite bedtime story despite getting it every night. It simply never got old for her. “You’re going to have to sing me to sleep every night once we’re in the same time zone,” she mused.

“You know I will,” Jan smiled softly, her mind conjuring up the image of the two of them laying in bed together, cuddled up close after a long day. Nicky would hold her in her arms while she sang to her, then fall asleep in her embrace, knowing she would sleep soundly because she got to wake up in her arms. She already knew what she smelled like, thanks to her scented letters, and longed to be able to wake up to it lingering on her skin instead of soaked into paper, she just yearned for the day where none of her senses were deprived of the other girl.

“You’re so good to me,” she cooed.

“That’s right, now I’m going to remind you to take that makeup off.” She chuckled. “It’s like, a quarter to eleven where you are, I don’t want you falling asleep with all that on.”

Nicky snorted softly. “There it is.” She rolled her eyes fondly, then reached across her desk. “I came prepared for this,” she explained, holding up a pack of makeup wipes. And, just to assure her she was actually following through, she took a wipe out and began cleaning off her face.

Jan grinned triumphantly. “See? I knew I’d start to rub off on you sooner or later.” Of course, she was guilty of just as many bad habits, if not more. But that was beside the point as far as she was concerned. Either way, she watched until Nicky had finished cleaning off her face, and she almost found it unfair that someone could be even more flawless underneath the makeup.

“Okay, I’m going to get ready for bed before you lecture me about that too,” Nicky teased. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, bye!” She blew a kiss at the screen before they ended the call.

After the call ended, Jan closed her laptop and got up to look in the mirror. She stared at herself, silently questioning why she was like this, so hopelessly taken with someone that it clouded her judgement, that she let thoughts of her cloud both her waking thoughts and her dreams. It was as frustrating and painful as it was intoxicatingly addictive.

The only thing that pulled Jan from her train of thoughts was her phone ringing, and she nearly dropped it as she got it out from her pocket. “What’s up, Crystal? Please tell me this isn’t a crisis call.”

“No, no, everything’s fine,” Crystal quickly assured. “We’re at Gigi’s mom’s house and she invited us to stay for dinner. So I won’t be back for like… another couple hours, give or take.”

“Oh, okay, cool. I take it the ring issue was taken care of?”

Crystal beamed, admiring the ring on her finger as if Gigi had actually proposed to her with it. “Everything’s fine on that front, trust me. I have to send you a picture of this, you’re gonna die.”

Jan laughed lightly. “I’m sure I will. Go ahead, then enjoy your dinner. Tell Mama Goode I said hi.”

“Can do,” Crystal assured before hanging up, her eyes still trained on the ring. The ring itself was rose gold, the band carved with vine-like design. The diamond at the center was square-cut and surrounded by tiny, round diamonds. While just towing the line of being over-the-top, it had the sort of unique, quirky vibe that made it perfect for someone like her.

“It’s like it was made for you,” Gigi had told her when she picked it out. “It’s actually kind of spooky.” She had picked out a ring for herself as well, one that had more of an antique aesthetic that she appreciated. It was gold with diamonds embedded along the band, centering an ornately-bordered radiant-cut diamond. It wasn’t as flashy as Crystal’s, but she was drawn to the details in the ring.

When they put their left hands on the table next to each other, they noted that there weren’t any significant similarities between what they’d chosen, but both of their personalities seemed properly represented. “We should have a little hand-modeling shoot for this,” Gigi mused, figuring she could ask her mom for help with that as well. They had explained their circumstances right away, and much to their relief, Gigi’s mom had found their story to be very funny and agreed to help however they needed under the condition that she could retell the tale once everything was over with. Crystal was happy to agree to these conditions, while Gigi did so more reluctantly.

Crystal wouldn’t admit as much, but as she sat down for dinner with the Goodes, it felt all too right. Like she was just having a meal with her future wife and mother-in-law, the energy that flowed among the three of them was always so calm and natural, even-keeled and even quiet at times. It was a stark contrast from her own family dinners in both positive and negative ways. But when it came down to it, what stood out the most to her was that she felt so perfectly at home with them, she couldn’t help but wish this at least felt fake. It would be easier to bear when it was all over.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #nicky doll #gigi goode #crystal methyd #crygi #jan x nicky #lesbian au #university au #college au #signed sealed delivered #joley #s12

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missjanjie · 4 years

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Signed, Sealed, Delivered | (2/?)

Title: Signed, Sealed, Delivered Summary: Jan is in love with her French pen pal, Nicky. Her roommate, Crystal, is in love with her best friend, Gigi. A (perhaps ill-thought out) plan emerges: give Nicky a reason to visit by inviting her to Crystal and Gigi’s wedding. With a month to pull the scheme together, no one knows how this will end up. Word Count: 2.9k (this chapter) / 5.8k (total) Relationship(s): Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode Rating: T (so far)

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and thanks to @janssports for beta-ing~