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bandgie · 7 months

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My Pretty Baby

idol!Bangchan x sexworker!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

a/n: final part hehe, sorry if it's not spicy, I really wanted to focus on emotional stuff or whatever

synopsis: Running into 'Koala' outside of work was not on your bucket list for your mini-vacation. The interaction, however, makes emotions you thought you've locked away for good come out. Maybe, with him, you're willing to take a chance.

warnings: MDNI 18+, there really won't be much smut but there'll be mentions of it, suggestive content, kinda angsty with happy ending

2k words

Four days.

You only had four days of relaxation before you went back to work. It's not that you hated your job, quite the contrary. You just liked being your own person. Living in your own flesh without having to worry if your client was also okay with your body.

So you stood in line at a Starbucks waiting for your turn. You were rehearsing your order in your head, repeating the phrase a grande strawberry açaí please, when you felt a pair of eyes searing your skin.

Hesitantly, you look behind you towards the entrance of the cafe to see him staring at you. It took a while for you to recognize him. He was dressed in all black, a beanie and mask covering nearly all his features save for the eyes. You could, however, see the brown curls that peeked through.

This normally wouldn't have bothered you, but the familiarity in his eyes made you feel exposed. More naked than you have in your entire life. The way his pupils expand at the sight of you, how you swear you can see his breath catch in his throat. You confirmed it was Koala when he began walking to you, ignoring the way the people in line shot him dirty glares.

"Shit," you cursed. You whisked the other way around and started on your heels.

You were heading for the exit, ignoring how you could hear his heavy footsteps follow behind you. Koala's identity is further verified when he bumps into customers. His urgent, accented sorry's and excuse me's ringing in your ears.

It's not as though you've never seen your clients outside of work. Despite you working in a big city, it was bound to happen. There was just something about seeing him that you didn't like. Koala is sweet, caring, slightly insecure in a way that makes you want to comfort him.

He's never told you directly, but you can feel it. You can feel it in the way he fucks you. How his shaky, yet soft hands caress your body. The way his eyes light up when you praise him when he hits that spot so good. He lives to hear compliments, to hear that he's worthy of such endearing words from you.

You loved the power trip it gave you. How Koala hung off every word you said. How you could either save or break him from mere sentences. That's what it was at first, power. Control you thought you lost from all the people you had to please for an extra buck. With Koala, you didn't need to act submissive, you didn't need to be anyone but yourself.

He still wanted you.

That knowledge made you ache for him in more ways than physical. His company, his laugh, his kindness. You craved it. Working in the field you did had people forget that you were more than an object of pleasure. Forgetting that you were human entirely. It's why you also hung onto his words. You were also giving Koala that same power you held over him.

That scared you.

It's the very reason why you've been avoiding him. When the bartender would tell you of Koala's arrival, you would shoo him away. Coming up with excuses that you're busy, you didn't feel good, you were leaving early.

When you did let Koala see you, it was brief. You've gotten used to his body, and he yours. You knew what he liked, what made him cum all over himself. It didn't matter if you only let him use your hands, your thighs, Koala was willing to use anything you gave him.

He lost himself in the feeling of pleasure, the feeling of you. He didn't care if his cock was rubbed raw, oh so sensitive to the touch. He would pay extra just to spend more time with you. He would whine, whimper from how you stroked him, but he wouldn't ask you to stop.

That meant the time with you was over, and God knows when he'd see you again. If you'd let him that is.

You reasoned it's why he was shouting for you even when you made your way out of that cursed coffee shop. People turned and raised eyebrows, but you ignored them all. You can ignore Koala, all you have to do is go to your car and-

"Nyx!"

The way your heart fell to your stomach made you stop in your tracks. Your abrupt halt made Koala stumble right into you, his broad chest smacking into your back.

He was apologizing, but you paid no mind to it. Instead, you spun around and gripped Koala by his shirt. His eyes widened as you forced him down to your height, seething.

"Don't," your voice was reprimanding. You could feel your face heat up from the anger that boiled in you. "Don't ever call me that name outside of my work. Fuck is wrong with you?"

Koala nods at you, stumbling and stuttering with apologies. "I'm s-sorry. Really I wasn't thinking! I was just trying to get to you and I didn't know how to-"

"Yeah you weren't thinking." You let go of his shirt take a deep breath. He looks remorseful, anxious. He couldn't stop playing with the hem of his shirt, the material bundling in his fingers. Pity quickly started to take over the anger, and you raised your hands to smooth out the crumpled wrinkles you left on the top of his shirt.

"Why were you trying to get to me?" You ask after a few beats of silence. Your question makes him look away shyly, his breaths shorten and quicken.

"I really don't know how to say it..." He trails off.

His head lift up to the sky, and you mimic this actions. The clouds have turned a pretty pink from the sunset. There's slight breeze in the air that makes you shiver. As if the beautiful sight gives him courage, Koala pushes on.

"That's a lie. I do know how to say it. I...I can't stop thinking about you. I don't think you've left my mind since we first met. Going to that type of...place really isn't my thing. I honestly didn't even wanna go, I was just desperate. I wasn't happy, I haven't been happy for a while now."

He takes a deep breath. You can see the tears in his eyes, it makes you want to reach out and comfort him. Tell him he'll be okay, that everything will be fine. Still, you keep your hands glued to your sides, waiting for him to compose himself before he continues.

"I mean, I am happy. I love my job, I love my friends, my family. I just hate having no one to share that happiness with, no one to come and hold me. No one to tell me that hard times will pass. No one to lean on."

You shift on your feet, anxiousness eating at you. You should tell him to stop, that it's enough. Where he's going, there's no going back. Client or not, feelings with or without, you shouldn't let him go on.

So why does hearing him speak make you so warm?

"It was temporary. It was supposed to be temporary. Pay some money, get a good night, forget the next morning. But I couldn't. I can't. I like how you hold me. I like how you make me feel relaxed. I like when we talk. You ask me about my day, and I actually want to talk about it."

"And don't tell me that's part of your job."

You quickly snap your mouth shut at Koala's words, a blush finding your cheeks. He must know you well if he knew that's exactly what you going to say. It's true though, getting personal is what gets the customers coming back.

Not with him though. That couldn't have been further from the truth.

"I've asked the bartender about you, and he said-"

"Wait you asked about me?" You interrupt him. Your arms cross against your chest. He looks at you sheepishly, a deer-in-headlights look before he nods.

"Kinda sorta, yeah. Nothing weird though! I was curious about you. I am curious about you. He said you were acting different since I came. He said you were also turning me down a lot. That you must like me a whole bunch to be turning down the money."

Next time you go into work, you'll make sure to give Oliver a piece of your mind.

"So you'll go off what a bartender says about me, about you, rather than me myself?" You try to make yourself sound assertive, but your voice is rather shaky.

"Well, that's why I'm here talking to you no?"

You go silent again, looking down to the ground. Your shoes have never looked more interesting. They really need a wash.

"Listen," he speaks gently. "I don't know how you feel, if you feel anything. But Nyx I-"

"See! There you go again!" You don't hide your wobbly voice this time. He, and everyone else in this near-empty parking lot, can hear the nervousness in your voice.

Vulnerability.

"You keep saying Nyx. I'm not Nyx! You don't know me! For fucks sake, all I call you is Koala. You like how I do this and you like how I do that, but you don't like me. You can't when you don't know who I am. You think you like me, but you like the image I am. You like my persona, you like her. Nyx is not me, I am not Nyx. It's an illusion, it's not real. None of this is."

Your chest heaves with emotion. The air you need to breathe seems to escape you.

"Why are you crying then?"

"What?" You touch your face to feet hot streams, your lips tasting the saltiness of them. You sniff and try to use your sleeve to wipe your tears away, but Koala cradles your face in his hands.

"If this isn't real, why are you crying?" His thumbs stroke your tears, an intimate gesture. He looks at you pained, as if seeing you cry breaks his heart.

"You're right. I don't know who you are, I don't know your name. There's nothing about your interests that I actually know about."

Your face falls for a moment, but Koala guides your head back up to his eyes.

"But I know how you make me feel. I know that I want to be around you all the time. No matter what you call yourself, what you are, who you are, I want to be with you. I don't care how we started, or where this goes. Right now, the only thing I care about is you."

You're sobbing now, trying to regain control of your breathing. You both must look insane. You're crying your eyes out in the middle of a parking lot as the moon begins to shine. Even then, Koala looks at you as if you're the most purest thing on this planet.

"Fuck. I'm so tired of calling you Koala. I feel like a fucken idiot." You both giggle at the sudden confession.

"So who are you? What's your name?" You question. He moves his hands away from you timidly. Immediately, your face gets cold from his lack of warmth. He uses those same hands to peel away his disguise, his beanie and mask coming off.

There's a pink hue in his chubby cheeks, shy look in his eyes when he shows you his bare face. His brown eyes stick out against his pale skin, his plump lips twitching in anticipation. Without thinking, you brush the mess of hair away from his face, further exposing him.

"Pretty," You hum.

He blushes at your compliment, his ears turning red.

"You do look familiar though. I swear I've seen you on TV. Singer right?"

He nods. "Yeah. I have a lot of names. Bangchan, Channie, Christopher, Chris."

He grabs your hands and brings them up to his face, his full lips brush against your knuckles. You start wondering how you went so long without kissing him, without knowing what his lips looked liked.

There's no guarantee to what happens after this. There's no way you can go back to work knowing how he feels about you, how you feel about him. It's scary, not knowing what the future holds.

But you're with him, and maybe that's all that matters.

"I think I'll call you my pretty baby. If that's alright."

a/n: and that concludes this mini series of Chris. the last part took a lot of thinking. I didn't know how I wanted it to play out, what scenes I wanted to add. I just wanted this to end on an emotional connection, so I felt like adding smut wasn't really necessary in this instance. feedback is muuuchhh appreciated, I'm not that good at tugging heart strings lmao

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fictoculus · 9 months

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౨ৎ let me help you...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... tighnari

SUMMARY... tighnari with an s/o struggling with an eating disorder WARNINGS... disordered eating, reference to insecurities/body image, picking out "flaws"

♪ recently, eating has become somewhat of a challenge, the overhwelming feeling of not thinking you deserve the luxury of food really taking it's toll. you'd generally been in quite a depressive state, struggling to get yourself out of bed, or even wake up for that matter, but as soon as night falls, it's practically impossible for you to drift off to sleep.

♪ tighnari, much to your dismay, had picked up on this, noticing the pieces of last night's dinner in the plant pots at the back of the house; the plants you thought he had discarded, their deformities being beyond saving.

♪ other times, he'd picked up on how you would eat unusually slow, then shoo him out of the room once he's finished eating his meal. it happened multiple times, and - concern flooding his mind - he decided that today was the day he'd look through the crack in the door, watching with wide eyes as you'd through away your food the second he left.

♪ he knew in that moment, he had to say something. how could he just watch you neglect yourself like this? the person he loves more than anything isn't taking care of themselves, and he can't let that just pass him by.

♪ pushing the door open wider, tighnari slips inside, leaning on the counter before finally catching your attention...

"i know, love... i know you haven't been eating..." he'd caught you, but in a way you were relieved. you knew you needed help, you just hated asking for it; you didn't think you deserved it. you do, however, still feel a sense of fear as soon as he confesses, and you must have shown it in your facial expression because he immediately hurried to comfort you. "but, i- it's ok, d-" "nari, don't... please, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry" you feel your cheeks dampening, a familiar saltiness rimming your lips; tears. you can't help yourself, letting them pour is almost... theraputic; finally having something, anything, to overpower the emptiness. as strange as it may sound, you've been wanting to cry for days, wanting to feel sad, angry, happy, shocked, anything, it doesn't matter what.

♪ he'd feel his heart twang as he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, wanting to wipe them away and tell you everything would be ok, but he wasn't sure if he could approach you; making you uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted to do.

"can i... can i come closer, love? you look like you need a hug..." nodding meekly, you take a couple steps towards him, setting the now empty plate in the sink as you passed it. tighnari, in turn, takes a few steps towards you, and keeps going until you're finally in his arms, sighing softly in relief when he finally felt your warmth. "i love you, [name]... i love you so much, and i hate seeing you neglect yourself like this, but i know you can't control it. so please, let me help you"

♪ sometimes you think you don't deserve him either. he's so gentle with you, so kind and caring... how did someone like you end up with someone like him? you see so many "flaws" when you look in the mirror, pointing them out one by one, each time causing yet another tear to fall down your face.... but he loves your flaws. he loves everything about you, and nothing could ever change that. deep down you knew this, you knew just how full of love tighnari was, and how he was willing to give you every last drop, whether you liked it or not.

"you aren't perfect, love, nobody is perfect, and nobody ever can be. so stop picking at your flaws, the things that make you different, because they make you beautiful. when i say i love you, i mean all of you, not just your smile, not just your kisses, not just your eyes; everything. you're more than enough for me, more than i could ever wish for, and i would never even think about changing anything about you. i love you just the way you are..."

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin drabbles #tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari fluff #tighnari headcanons #tighnari drabble #tw ed #nb!reader #gn!reader #tighnari comfort #.typingptera

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idontplaytrack · 1 month

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Tough

Rosa Diaz x teen daughter! reader

Warnings: none?

In which, Rosa comes down with a cold and the squad shoos her home but she refuses- so reader comes to the rescue

“You look like hell, Rosa.”

“I’m fine.” Rosa spat.

“No, you are not.” Jake continues. Rosa only rolled her eyes before resuming her work. “Lieu, would you please tell her she looks like crap.”

Jeffords turned around and said, “You look like crap.”

“I’m working.”

“You’re sick. Literally not one of us have seen you this pale.” Terry continues.

“At least take this.” Charles put a pill on her desk- an antihistamine.

“No.”

“Ha ha.” Amy quipped, “I called your daughter.”

“Amy, are you insane? Why would you do that?” Rosa laid back in her seat, “Why would you call my daughter over this?”

“Because out of everyone you know, I know you’d listen to her.” Amy shrugged.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“No, you are not.” Amy replies calmly, “Just go home and take it easy for the rest of the day.”

“But you might want to wait for your daughter to get here.” Holt’s voice cut through the room. “I do not think it is safe for you to make your own way home. She should be here in 16 minutes. Her school has let out for the day.”

“Whaaat? Still crazy to hear that.” Jake laughs.

“Get back to work.” Terry reminded, “Rosa stop doing your work.”

“Fine, whatever.” She gave up, saving the document onto her desktop then just laid back in her chair to wait for you.

————

“Bye, Rosa.” Jake grins. Rosa grumbles, putting her jacket on while you went to press the lift button.

“You know, I love you but I don’t see how having you take a detour to go home with me will keep either of us safer.”

“Okay, but it did shut them up, didn’t it?”

Rosa chuckles, “Didn’t you have something on?”

“I did. But I decided not to go.”

“I’m a little afraid to ask, but why?”

“That’s a problem for another day. You just focus on resting today.” You told her.

“y/n.” She warned.

“The guy’s a douchebag.” You gave in, “Apparently he orders the most expensive thing on the menu then makes his date pay every time. And he doesn’t exactly take no for an answer, if you get what I mean.”

“Okay, that’s good- don’t ever feel like you need to go on dates because you don’t want to cancel on people.”

“I know.” You assured, “How are you feeling?”

“Never felt this sick in 10 years.” She snorted, “But, I bounce back quick.”

“That’d be right.” You stifled a laugh, “I’ll make us some soup when we get back- and you, take a shower and get into bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She joked, “I’m tough.”

“Oh, there’s no denying that.” You put an arm around her, and you see a tiny little smile tug on her lips, “You are tough. You’re a badass.”

“I mean, so are you, y’know?” She continues.

“Barely.”

“Please, you’re my daughter. I taught you everything you know. You’re a badass too, mamita.”

“Oh, boy we need to get you into bed.”

“y/n, I’m not trying to be funny.”

“You realise none of my dates have went well so far?”

“So? It’s not your fault the people who’ve tried to take you out are jerks or you just didn’t vibe with them.”

“Maybe I’m the problem.”

“No one’s perfect but you can’t say that because I see you as you are and I can confidently say you’re a good person.” Rosa spoke tiredly, “There are plenty of people in the city. You’ll meet someone before you know it.”

“You mean it?”

“Fuck do you mean? Of course I do.” She answered straightforwardly, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Ah…I guess after three suckish dates in a row, my confidence has taken a hit. But thanks, Mom.”

The rest of your walk home was rather quiet with Rosa trying to keep warm in this chilly weather while her body temperature rose. So, once you both got home, you quickly turned the heat up so she would be more comfortable. “I’m gonna take a shower now, then I’m off to bed.”

“Good, you’d better. I’ll wake you up when the food’s done so you can eat some then take something for your fever.”

“Okay, honey.” Rosa rolled her eyes playfully, “Be careful.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I said that first.”

#rosa diaz x daughter reader #rosa diaz #reader insert #x reader #daughter reader #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #fanfiction #alternative universe #au fanfiction #drabble #stephanie beatriz

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rpclefairy · 2 years

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𝐌𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐎 𝐙𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

novel based. some are nsfw!

“ i must say, good riddance! ”

“ stop playing dead! ”

“ how did you finish it this quickly? ”

“ you’ve got the wrong person... ”

“ you? protect me? stop bragging. ”

“ if i can’t defeat them, other people can’t either. ”

“ shoo! shoo! go away! why did you come out? ”

“ yeah, yeah. you didn’t steal, you robbed! ”

“ please calm down. words are more powerful than weapons. ”

“ did you see what it was? ”

“ it wasn’t me! ”

“ wake up. it’s time to work! ”

“ one bite. one bite only… hmph, are you trying to eat my whole hand with that bite of yours? ”

“ i haven’t seen anyone like this! ”

“ you damn gay! good for you. ”

“ mark your words. ”

“ you are dismissed. ”

“ those who make noise will be silenced. ”

“ you will be sleeping here. ”

“ and then we started fighting. ”

“ you’re so smug. ”

“ i have a question. ”

“ such a waste. ”

“ don’t be like this. it’s my fault, alright? ”

“ you do not feel any remorse. ”

“ i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i can repeat it however many times you want me to. i can even say it while kneeling down. ”

“ i never asked you to carry me, in the beginning. ”

“ no, i’m wounded. ”

“ hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! ”

“ where did you get the guts to be all choosy here? ”

“ do you have the money? ”

“ why are you looking at me? am i good-looking? ”

“ you’ll answer whatever i ask you? ”

“ can’t we rest and chat at the same time? ”

“ i think i heard strange breathing sounds... ”

“ how is this something to congratulate someone for?! ”

“ i don’t understand and i don’t care. ”

“ you want me to fix this soul? ”

“ do you often sneak up on people when you’re in the middle of a sentence? ”

“ i’ve already said that i can’t do anything about it. ”

“ you do not deserve this sword. ”

“ someone is lying here. ”

“ you’re so ugly. you’re even uglier when you cry. ”

“ what a person you are! ”

“ you can try, now, to see if i would reject you over anything. ”

“ please warn me before you say something so romantic or else i won’t be able to take it. ”

“ i told you not to touch me. ”

“ do not worry. i can save you if you fall. ”

“ you’re flirting with me. ”

“ you look the best with no clothes on. ”

“ eat, eat, eat — all you do is eat! ”

“ if it’s folklore, let alone how unreliable it is, should we really trust it? ”

“ i just love it when i’m filled by you like this. it’s quite great, really. ”

“ scared my moans would be heard by someone? easy — just silence me. ”

“ you know me. i love acting recklessly. ”

“ fine. i will ask you a few questions. you can explain one by one. ”

“ i never asked you to thank me. ”

“ but it’s not that i’m scared of death. i just don’t want to die yet. ”

“ you understand my ass! ”

“ i really don’t understand. just say it out loud!!! ”

“ thanks, i’m rich now! ”

“ you two really do talk about anything and everything. ”

“ but it’s not that i’m scared of death. i just don’t want to die yet. ”

“ further investigations are perhaps necessary. ”

“ apologize? for what? for exposing your thing for each other? ”

“ you must not force yourself. ”

“ well, say it out loud. who’s an unwelcome person? ”

“ you have climbed every single tree on our way here. ”

“ would hiding the truth be right instead? ”

“ there’s no why. you know i love fooling around outside at night. haha. ”

#rp meme #ask meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #rp ask meme #indie rp #rp prompts #ask prompts

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oletusfragments · 11 months

Note

(think of this as a continuation cause I have no shame writing for this man wwwww- also, I'd like to say that reading your posts has been such a blast! I love seeing these letters, and I hope more people find your content enjoyable <3 keep it up!)

💌 - Naib Subedar

---

To: Naib Subedar,

Hello again! It's been quite a while since I wrote my last letter to you. So sorry about that, by the way- things had been hectic and I believe miss Nightingale lost my original reply to your response.

I do come with good news, however- thanks to your help, I've learned how to deal with hunters and rescue much better than before! I always had trouble with Nightmare and Grace, but your help really got me through them, and the others all got out unscathed because of your lessons.

Hehe, I suppose I'd like to say that... I'm indebted to you, Naib. Thank you so, so much for helping me- you are quite an impressive rescuer, and I was right to seek you out for advice. Not a lot of survivors really help me out with matters like these due to my appearance, after all...

As for your offer of celebration... Is it alright if we do it in private? Don't get me wrong- I don't mind having everyone else around! But... I'm ashamed of showing my face to other people. That, and I also want to get to know you better- take things slow, you know?

Ah, here I am, rambling again.. I'll end it here. Please let me know your response, and your preference in food as well! I'd like to make some that we can both enjoy while we celebrate.

- 🍒 'Marise'

✦ — Your letter has been delivered!

And does he secretly beam at you with pride when you prove yourself. Naib sees it too. How far you've improved, how excellent you look. He'd appear disinterested in others' conversation until he passes by the other manor occupants and hear their words of praise towards you, proclaiming that you are the savior of their matches. And does he feel proud when he hears it all.

Naib wants to congratulate you too, for your achievements. He's here, thinking of words to say to you when you meet but yet you beat him to it. He definitely did not expect a second letter to come. Truth to be told, he never expected this much gratitude from you either. He thought you'd leave as fast as you approached him. In the days of spending time with each other training he has grown to regard you as a pleasant company.

Later, he'll spend some time with you again for celebration. Alone with you.

Is it a date now? He slapped himself at that thought. Breathing deeply as he shoos away the idea.

Oh, he shouldn't keep you waiting for a reply any longer. The sooner he writes a reply, the sooner he'll see you again.

Dear Marise,

It's no problem. You need to give yourself more credit. It was you and your efforts that made you what you are now. I could see how hard you worked to prove and save others. You should keep this up, prove those who didn't believe in you wrong.

As for the celebration, do not worry. It'll only be you and me. That was the plan from the start. Why should they be involved anyway? This celebration is only for you and about you. Don't be too worried about it. It's your party so do whatever you want, but not too chaotic though. It wouldn't be a proper celebration if you're uncomfortable.

And as for the foods I like, I'm not really picky but I do miss the dishes from back home. It has been quite a long time since I've had them. But I think anything you make will be fine, I trust you.

Anyway, see you later.

– Naib

#identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v imagines #idv imagines #letter: sent!#sorry it took this long 🥹

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trulyrogers · 2 years

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┊i. Make You Miss Me.

Pairing: Modern!Elvis x Fem!Reader

Summary: The concepts of true love, soulmates, happily ever after, and anything else to do with the word "love" were frivolous and overrated to both of them - in fact, this was the only thing they had in common.

Chapter Summary: Y/N works at a publishing company where her main focus is fantasizing about her boss, Elvis Presley.

Story Warnings: Smut (18+ minors shoo!) , angst, etc (warnings will be updated)

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of SA! , harmless flirting, name-calling, insecurities, dick-head relatives, bad grammar sorry :( Word Count : 3.2k

Author's Note: This is my first story so please bear with me here lol! I hope you enjoy it!!

—— —͙ – -

He found you charismatic and breathtaking, you found him promiscuous and irresistible; it was love at first sight. You couldn't help but think about your boss in such a manner, regardless of the fact that it would be quite unprofessional in typical workplace environments. Your first encounter with him was still fresh in your mind. Seeing his ebony hair frame his face and the look he gave you was enchanting. The low tone in which he introduced himself was also noteworthy to you. Upon entry into the office on your first day, you were greeted by his strikingly beautiful opal eyes that burned holes in your heart.

When you got to know him better, you realized he was as troublesome as you expected. Despite not intending to do so, it had become apparent that you had become close to him. Closer than intended. Minutes would pass, then minutes would turn into hours as you conversed. As a result, you would often find yourself sneaking glances at him just to catch a glimpse of his captivating features. The only thing that he does is look at you through the clear window of his office and give you a small teasing smirk in response.

Your coworkers had spotted your amorous gazes toward your boss at that point, as you were realizing how serious your situation was, and how they had been reacting to your flirtatious glances and conversations towards your boss. Rumors began to spread. Therefore, you had decided to stop. The truth was you had unconsciously convinced yourself that he was not what you wanted. You couldn't risk the job. Reading was your passion and a publishing company was the perfect place for you to pursue your career goals.

It was a pleasure for you to be able to leave early despite having worked long hours. It was particularly pleasant not to see your attractive boss either. As you began to leave the office, you put on a winter scarf and collected some of your belongings from your desk, and placed them in your purse. You stopped as you made your way to the elevator, noticing another familiar figure waiting for it as well. Moments later, you began walking toward him and stood beside him. Elvis. Clearing your throat, hoping to ease the awkwardness, you spoke, "So uh, the book launch is coming soon. Are you excited?"

Both of you entered the elevator after the doors opened, and Elvis glanced at you with slight amusement. "I suppose so. How about you, darlin'?" He replied in a southern accent that resonated off the elevator walls.

Nodding, and rocking on your heels, you politely answered, "To be honest, I've been wanting to read it for a while."

"I'll be sure to save you a copy then." He informed you smoothly, his signature grin adorning his face.

When the elevator doors finally opened, you were both walking out of the building. There was a sense of naturalness about it. While walking to your car, your phone vibrated. The message made you grumble in irritation as you viewed it. During the month of December, your family and friends always held their annual Christmas party filled with people you hated, and of course, your anxiety-riddled mother did not hesitate to remind you about it. In addition, your phone was almost dead, and you had no time to stop at home since you were already late for the party.

Resisting the urge to smash your phone on the pavement, you slid into the front seat of your car, turning the key into the ignition. You received only a weak sputter as a response. "Damn it!" You cried out furiously, not realizing that your boss was just across the street, amusingly watching you from the sidewalk. Upon exiting your vehicle, you slammed the door shut and began to pace back and forth. The party was not something you were particularly interested in attending. In fact, you would prefer to remain at home, but your mother would undoubtedly get on your case if you did not come.

In the midst of examining your dying cell phone battery, and with your bag still in your hand, you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Need help?" A honey-laced Southern accent catches your attention immediately.

"I..." Hesitating for a moment, you think about refusing his offer and simply walking home. "Yeah, that would be great actually. Sorry for the trouble." Your words slip from your lips without a second's thought. You try to appear as friendly as possible while resisting the urge to curse yourself out in your head. "It's all good sweetheart, my car's just across the street."

In your mind, you knew that you should not leave with someone from work. He was particularly attractive, especially coming from someone of his caliber, you shouldn't have accepted the ride. In any case, your current situation was desperate. What could possibly go wrong?

The fact that he opened his car door for you made you think he was a truly gentlemanly individual. Old-fashioned almost. Once he had secured his seatbelt and entered the car, he asked, "Where to?"

You chewed the inside of your cheek, "It's a bit of a while away from here. Maybe about 45 minutes. I'll pay for the gas!" you immediately added with an apologetic smile and provided him with the address of your mother's home to enter in the GPS.

"No need to do that, honey." He comments as he prepares to pull out of his parking spot. "Never realized commuting would be so long for you. Bet it's hell for you." he continued, hoping for a friendly exchange of conversation. In spite of the fact that his language surprised you, you decided to ignore it.

"Tell me about it." You sigh, sinking into the seat of the car and trying to get comfortable. "My place is actually farther away, I'm just heading to my mom's house for the night."

Elvis raised an eyebrow but did not pursue the matter further, giving you the opportunity to finish speaking.

"My family has a Christmas party every December. It's kind of our thing." He responds with a throaty chuckle. "You don't seem too excited."

A small laugh escapes your lips as you nod in reply, " My family is...unique." Immediately, you begin to tell him improbable stories about your family throughout the remainder of the ride. He becomes increasingly fascinated by you with every word you utter and every movement you make. There was something special about you, unlike the other employees at the company. As opposed to your dreary co-workers who appear to be half-dead, you are the spring of life.

"And in my defense, I was left unsupervised." You concluded one of your stories by shrugging your shoulders. As Elvis approached your mother's house, he let out a small laugh, only to find that your mother was already outside, waiting for you it seemed. Initially, she did not recognize the car; however, as soon as you stepped out, she greeted you and began chatting with you. "Oh honey, I thought you were never going to come! What took so long? Why weren't you answering my calls?"

The moment she realized that you had left the passenger seat, she immediately stopped her never-ending series of questions and directed all her attention to the front seat of the car. A broad smile adorned her features as she clapped her hands together enthusiastically upon seeing Elvis in the front seat of the vehicle. "Sweetheart, you didn't tell me you came with someone. A very handsome someone at that." She commented as a rosy blush spread across your cheeks. "Mama, he's my boss!" You hissed at her.

Elvis, however, did not appear to be upset by her comments. In fact, he seemed rather entertained by them. "I'm sorry about her." Despite your apology, your blush still remained.

"Thank you very much for driving my daughter home. It is such a long drive back and it is getting late. The least we can do is let you stay the night. There is plenty of room for you. Plus, it's dangerous, the snow is getting heavier!" Her tone was quite alarmed.

It almost caused your jaw to drop open. Your boss, spending the night at your house? With your family? Obviously, it was going to be a disaster, not to mention that it was highly unprofessional.

"Thank you for your hospitality. I am a little tired ma'am, so I'll take you up on your offer." With a polite smile, he shut off the car, flashing you a small flirtatious smile that did not go unnoticed by you.

The fact that you were nervous was painfully apparent. Despite the fact that you weren't particularly worried about getting fired, the working environment was tense in more than one respect between you and Elvis. You were unable to ignore him. You knew that despite your lack of faith in attraction or love, there was something that was drawing you together. Fate perhaps.

With Elvis at your heels, you followed your mother into the house while slinging your work bag over your shoulder. Your family became silent as soon as each of you stepped inside the house, focusing all of your attention on the newcomer. Bringing someone home with you was virtually unheard of. A female friend may occasionally accompany you home, but a man? It was an unprecedented event. "Come on," Your mother beckoned Elvis, "I'll show you where you'll be staying, and sweetheart," She gestured to you, "I left an outfit for you on your bed."

As Elvis and your mother made their way down the hall to the guest room, you walked into your old room. You held back a groan as you examined the sweater on your bed. Despite the fact that your family traditionally wears shabby Christmas sweaters each year, you were unable to follow suit. Putting it mildly, it was embarrassing. However, you slipped it on anyway. One of your uncles caused constant discomfort to you, but fortunately, the sweaters seemed to repel him every time he appeared.

Your family members were chatting loudly in the living room as you walked downstairs, and you saw Elvis among them, laughing at something one of your aunts had said. Your mother pulled you aside before you were able to walk over to him. "Honey.." Her gaze shifted in Elvis' direction. "You know.. Jesse should be coming soon." She added. In spite of the fact that you only knew Gladys from church, your mother had always attempted to set you up with her son, who you briefly knew during your sophomore year of college, Jesse.

You were jolted out of your reverie by a sharp knock at the door. "Speak of the devil!" Your mother laughed and rushed to open the door. There he stood. It had been years since you had seen him. Although he was handsome, he resembled the man in the living room almost exactly. His resemblance to Elvis' was almost eerie. As though they could be twins.

"Hi, I'm [Y/N], you might not remember me but I'm-"

Despite your greeting, he brushed past you without acknowledging your presence. Since you knew him, one thing has remained the same, namely his ability to dampen your mood. In an attempt to avoid escalating your anger, you walked outside, rolling your eyes. You felt the snow gently falling on your hair, and the chill in the air made your nose turn crimson. In the past, Jesse had not treated you in such a manner. Your heart ached when you realized that he had changed in such a negative way. Inhaling deeply, you sighed as you sat down on the bench that rests on your porch, watching the fog escape from your lips.

"You okay, honey?"

One of your family friends was standing behind you as you looked back. "Yeah, m' alright." Your voice is quiet as you shiver slightly from the cold. After taking a seat next to you, he wraps his arm around you in a reassuring manner, or so you thought.

—— —͙ – -

There was a moment when Elvis was poised to strike at the man across from him. Years had passed since he had last seen his brother. In light of the fact that his brother had backstabbed him, Elvis had been estranged from Jesse and his mother for several years. "Do you not have better things to be doing?" He remarks to his brother in a hostile manner as Jesse hovers close to him. "Trust me, I don't want to be here either."

In response, Elvis rolls his eyes and takes a small sip of his beverage. Normally, he would have left by now. It was true that he was a complete stranger, but it was also true that he was tired, and that the snow on the roads would have made driving home quite difficult.

A resounding scream choked with terror pierced his thoughts as he was about to reply. There was a moment of silence in the room before everyone realized you were absent. It was Elvis who was the first to get up and follow the source of the noise, which was, undoubtedly, you.

Nevertheless, you got to the door before him. The door swung open with tears streaming down your face. In addition, your hair was disheveled and you had a torn sweater. It wasn't lost on Elvis that your jeans also lacked a button.

Your quick ascent of the stairs brought you to your room where you shut the door before locking it. A number of your family members had knocked on your door as the hours passed, trying to understand what had occurred. In spite of this, they knew it deep down. You should not have been surprised to learn that it was one of your uncle's friends.

Tears streamed down your cheeks in endless waves, and a knock sounded at your door. Upon hearing the familiar southern accent, you felt a sense of comfort. "Hey darlin,' you mind lettin' me in?" he said with the gentlest tone he could muster. Initially, you were hesitant to open the door, but you felt the need to speak with someone, even if it was your boss. In his treatment of you, it was evident that he was treating you differently from the rest of your colleagues, which caused you to feel delighted.

He felt terrible. What type of family surrounds themselves with assailants? You were nothing but sweet, you didn't deserve this. Nobody did. You sat on your bed and he mimicked you. Your ability to speak was impaired. This experience left you feeling disgusted. Violated.

It wasn't long before you found yourself wrapping your arms around him, and he did the same for you. Despite this, he did not proceed any further, as he did not wish to cause you discomfort.

"Honey-"

"Don't call me that." Your voice trailed off as you felt tears welling up once again. You wouldn't have minded normally, but the fact that he had called you that during the assault had made you weary.

Afterward, he nodded sympathetically before asking again, "Do you need anything?" Despite his slight easing of his grip on you, you remained close. In spite of your inclination to move closer, you were unable to do so since he was your superior, but your desire overcame you.

"I just want to lay here with you, for a little while longer."

You pressed closer to him and your tears began to dry slightly. It was at least comforting to know that someone could be relied upon, despite the fact that the party was downright horrendous. The only thing you wanted was to be away from your family for the time being.

"Sweetness, I just wanna let you know I'm here for you. Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that," he said, his support evident in his voice, and you nodded against him in response. "He's still here. You hit 'em in the eye real good. Jesse's dealin' with him downstairs. If you want me to take you home, I can."

You are lying under his chin with your face pressed against his chest as his hands are encircling you. He is still wearing the suit that he wore to work, and you are able to smell his cologne; it brings you comfort.

"Thanks..I'd like that," You whisper as you begin to sit up, feeling a bit faint. After that, he sits up as well and waits for you to get up so that you can join him. "Thank you for everything. You've been nothing but sweet to me and I've been causin' nothin but trouble for you since I started working." As you speak, your voice is trembling with emotion, nearly bringing you to tears.

He embraces you once again, "Oh sweetness, you did nothin' wrong.." He says rubbing your back and pulls away to dry your tears with his thumb. "Now let's take you back home and cheer you up." Your eyes glisten with hope.

"Can you stay the night?" Your words flow from your lips without a moment's hesitation. In light of what Elvis had witnessed, the boundaries between superior and employee had already been broken.

After following him down the stairs, you were captivated by the sight that lay before you. The voice was that of Jesse, shouting at your Uncle's friend, who was suddenly shrinking in fear. His name was the last thing you wanted to know. As a result, he would gain additional control over you, and you were unwilling to cede that power to him. Having slipped his hand into yours, Elvis gently tugged on it, indicating that you should follow him.

It is impossible to miss the glance that Jesse gives you from across the room. In spite of remorse and regret, it is still a feeling of longing. When he turns his attention to the perpetrator again, it disappears from his face as quickly as it appeared.

It would have been nice if he could pummel the man half to death, Elvis thought, but you were his primary concern. You feel empty without Elvis' hand when he lets go. Taking quick strides, he is about to pass the man and Jesse to reach for your purse, but he stops. Swiftly, he strikes your attacker across the face and he falls to the floor. In spite of the fact that it may have appeared unprofessional, he did not care. Without a word, he took your purse off the table, and stepped over the man who was groaning on the floor as your family exchanged hushed words. Elvis places his arm around you once more as he ushers you out the door and into the car.

As the December air nips at your skin, Elvis' body heat compensates by keeping you warm. The passenger seat is occupied by you, while the front seat is occupied by Elvis, and he nods at you comfortingly.

You've never felt more at ease, and you were sure, absolutely sure, he wasn't going to leave.

#elvis presley x reader #elvis film #elvis movie #elvis 2022 #elvis x reader #elvis the pelvis #elvis presley #elvis #elvisaaronpresley #x reader #reader insert #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin!elvis x reader

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georgeousrussell · 3 years

Text

Me, finally watching the Lando Undercover video: this is what f1blr panicked for? I now expect a handwritten apology and promise to never get on this hellsite Lando smh

#f1 #lando norris #landogate #or was it #tumblrgate #either way please save yourself and shoo #this site will ruin you

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elysianslove · 3 years

Note

I get really bad cramps, like I’ll pass out/throw up, and I just be telling myself “idk how...but osamu would NOT allow this 😩” HE WOULD NOT ALLOW ME TO BE IN THAT MUCH PAIN, I KNOW IT

on god periods are the worst. i always forget just how bad they are until i get mine again and then im reminded 😐 anyways here are headcanons for this cause why not :D also as apology for not responding for a while </3

MIYA OSAMU WHEN YOU’RE ON YOUR PERIOD

okay so at the beginning of your relationship, you were a little bit hesitant to let him know whenever you were on your period, just because it felt like he didn’t really need to know ??

but osamu’s kind of like,,, very smart and he starts to notice whenever you’d cancel plans or maybe when you ask to stay in when you had been planning on going out or maybe he notices when your appetite is a little messier, your sleep a little disturbed.

either way, he kinda picks up on it, but he grew up with no sisters and a mother who didn’t have much reason to tell him about periods so he‘s still very clueless

one day you‘re just not in the mood and he bluntly asks, “are ya on yer period?” but it comes out so wrong like 😭 it sounded really offensive when he was just genuinely curious and worried for your wellbeing and you kinda gawked at him like ????

but then he just like raises his brows as if expecting an answer like, “are ya or are ya not?” but he also adds, “s’kay if ya are, m’just wonderin’.”

when you’re cautious with asking him if he’s like annoyed or disgusted, he’s very honest when he says, “nah, just wanted ta know if i can help.”

the moment he’s home he corners atsumu and asks for help, like atsumu would know??? atsumu bullshits so much and osamu can tell he’s bullshitting so he turns to his mom. just sits her down and asks her how he can be of help when it comes to periods. pls imagine how proud she must’ve beeb :(

anyways he doesn’t really memorize your cycle or anything like that but he just picks up on signs that you’re pms’ing. any complaints about breast or back or stomach pain, any headaches or insomnia, or nausea or bloating like he just has the symptoms memorized.

and as soon as he hears, for example, your back is aching, or your shoulders hurt, he’s casually just gonna get behind you and start massaging, carrying on any conversation or watching the movie/tv show, or continuing a phone call. he’ll just kinda mindlessly do it for you.

he also kinda likes how much you indulge yourself with food either before or on your period. he hates that part where you start to feel guilty about it but he just goes “mmm yeah for sure of course” as you whine about eating too much while he’s stuffing your face with more food. he doesn’t care, he’s gonna make sure you’re eating a lot no matter what. and he’ll eat double the amount if it makes you feel better.

he’s very very very calm and chill about it. like he doesn’t make a big deal about it in any way, neither extremes you know. he just treats you the same way he would any other day, but you can tell he’s gentler. like he lets any snap from yours pass and is a lot cuddlier and indulges you more, but very subtly you know. he just doesn’t want you to feel like you’re burdening him in any way.

he seems “ok sure” and so whatever about buying pads and/or tampons but is actually so clueless it’s hilarious. he’s not embarrassed just so, so lost 😭 and he’s too prideful to ask for help from you so he just sends pictures to the vbc in hopes they’ll help him. they make fun of him, and it remains a running joke for a very long time, but they eventually put their brains together and help him (i.e. kita texts you and asks you specifically so that osamu gets what you want and not just anything).

osamu probably runs really warm (both the twins do), so any time your tummy hurts he just splays his hand across your lower abdomen and squeezes and kneads lightly. why invest in a heating pad when you have a whole boyfriend yk

makes you so much tea, especially chamomile tea, and when you can’t sleep, with even the tea not helping, he just hugs you really, really tight to him and cuddles you real close. he has his arms wrapped around you and he’s kissing your forehead and temple and just soothingly rubbing your back as you mewl and whine into his chest about how much it hurts.

makes fun of you for getting into those weird positions that somehow magically get rid of the pain, but just leaves you be with a kiss to your temple and a genuine laugh.

also if you ever leak in bed, it’s literally not a problem at all. he just shoos you away to get cleaned up and takes care of everything. even leaves a painkiller and some water by your bedside for when you come back.

if you ever leak in public, he’s gotchu, immediately like rushing up to stand behind you and whisper in your ear to warn you. leads you to the bathroom and gets you extra clothes if you’re in the mall or something, unless he has a hoodie or jacket on him that he can tie around your waist. he doesn’t mind either at all. what a gentleman please :(

now if your cramps are bad bad, like throwing up, passing out, physically can’t move, all that good good stuff, he is very, very protective. like he’s always making sure you’re drinking water and staying hydrate, and feeds you very little foods not to trigger your nausea but also just enough to keep you healthy yk? he also tries very hard to make sure you stay at home during the worse days, like staying in bed with minimal movement while he takes care of you.

he just gets this whole newfound respect for girls and women. he’d always had it, but now that he’s seen it firsthand and so personal, the respect magnifies. he’s definitely saved a life or two by just casually having a pad or tampon in his schoolbag or something. like he once saw this first year girl panicking outside the bathroom and was like ?? are ya okay ?? and she blurted out that she got her period and didn’t have anything on her and he was like, “oh, okay. here,” and just handed her some like <3333 king <3333

anyways all in all, the perfect gentleman. takes care of you very well without making you feel like a burden, and never makes you feel like your period’s an inconvenience.

i love him

also sorry for making this so long havsjdjd

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu headcanons #osamu x reader #osamu headcanons #hq x reader #tw periods

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Note

Ok so I had a prompt idea? We’re all familiar with the “villain is sent to a ‘rehabilitation center’ that turns out to be secretly torturing the villains there” trope, but consider this: scared villain is captured by a kind hero and sent to a villain rehabilitation center, and villain has never experienced such warmth and kindness! Not to mention frequent visits from hero to check up/see how they’re doing. Maybe it’s no good but just a thought I had; I love your writing so much!! 💛🌼

(No pressure though, I know you’re probably busy!)

Oh, I absolutely love this prompt! Evil rehab centers are all well and good, but I’d never thought of one as being a source of comfort. I hope you like this! I was going to do some more with it, but it was already running a little long ^^

Thanks so much for the prompt!

CW//Arson, burning buildings, smoke inhalation, fear of death, gross food, mentions of torture, animal disease

As though singed by smoke, Villain’s lungs burned.

Even as they gasped, they felt as though they could not inhale a single breath. Yet, somehow, they had enough air to keep going.

It wasn’t as though they had a choice.

They were unsure, at that point, if their legs were truly moving at all. They had lost feeling in them far too long ago to be able to verify such a thing. Somehow, though, they were moving forward. Even if they wanted to, they didn’t know if they could stop, with momentum pushing them as it was.

Everything was riding on this. Days of keeping ahead, of leading the chase. If they stopped moving for just a moment, it would all be wasted.

And their life would be over. If they stopped running now, there would be no Villain left.

In that instant, they understood what it was to be a rabbit. When there was a fox on your tail, there were no do overs. No second chances. It was run or die.

As long as they could, they were going to run.

Villain couldn’t remember the name of the building in which they had managed to find the briefest of respites. Despite its sprawling size, there was nothing truly remarkable about it. Perhaps it did not have a name in the first place. At some point, it had been some sort of industrial complex-- the home of half a dozen separate companies, each clashing and butting up against one another.

Yet, the structure had long since been left to rot. They had a feeling that mold clinging to every corner had something to do with that.

Just a week ago, they would never have dreamed of so much as going someplace like this. The air smelled rotten, and breathing it left a sour taste sticking to their tongue. Not to mention the fact that several animals of varying size and danger had already claimed the rotten complex as their home.

But, they weren’t the same Villain they had been a week ago. Stumbling upon the building had felt like a gift from above, and, the night prior, they’d managed to get some honest-to-god rest among its sodden carpeting.

It was the most rest they’d gotten in days, despite the fact that, halfway through it, they’d awoken to a diseased rat with its teeth buried in their forearm. They’d had worse awakenings.

After shooing away the animal, they’d managed to sleep an hour or so more. Then came the worse of their two awakenings, that night.

The shouting voices of heroes.

Villain didn’t know how they’d found them. There was no trace, no trail. They had no vehicle-- instead moving through the woods on foot. ‘On foot’ was quite literal in that instance, considering the fact that they’d lost their shoes three days ago to a patch of quickmud.

But, still, they’d been found.

They didn’t no how long ago it was, that they’d been awakened by those voices. With the darkened building’s clocks hanging stubbornly on the wrong minute and hour, there was no way to tell how long it had been.

How long they’d been running...

Villain skidded around a corner, hissing as their foot caught on an uprooted carpet tack. Had they been this way before? It was impossible to tell-- all the halls looked the same.

The halls repeated, just as the heroes’ footsteps did.

How were they not tired?

Maybe because they’d eaten. And slept. And had water.

Villain had found that stream the other day, though...

Everything about them seemed to be repeating. The walls. The footsteps.

The lies of the heroes.

“Just stop running! We don’t want to hurt you!”

They couldn’t count just how many times they’d heard those words. Lies. Of course they were lies! Or, perhaps, it was their own sick attempt at a joke. We don’t want to hurt you, we just want to kill you!

Villain wasn’t ready to die. Not just yet.

Another corner was taken with haste, and their nostrils were overwhelmed with the scents of rust and oil.

The garage was massive-- reaching further upwards than the shreds of sunlight filtering through dusty windows could reach with their furthest rays. Its concrete floor stretched out, seemingly, all the way to the horizon-- dotted only by support beams, and whatever scattered machinery and supplies the company had not deemed valuable enough to bring along.

The source of the scent of gasoline was quite rapidly made apart. Stacked haphazardly in the corner, red gas containers stood. Their reek alone made it well known that they were far from empty.

But the gas was far from Villain’s main concern regarding the garage.

In the past few days, they had become awfully good at finding exits. It was with a ruthless instinct that they scanned the room for one.

But, in the end, they reached a terrifying conclusion.

There was one exit. It was the same door as the entrance. The garage doors on the other side of the chamber had long since been chained shut, and there was no time for lockpicking.

The heroes flooded in.

It was with an exhausted hopelessness and steadfast stubbornness that they kept running forth. Of course, with their terrible luck, they did not make it very far. A rebar pipe caught their toes, sending them sprawling onto the concrete, pain shrieking from a thousand different, tiny wounds.

For a few seconds, Villain let themself breathe. They figured that, at the very least, they should let themself enjoy their last moments alive.

Their relaxation did not last long. They refused to die laying down. Trembling from exhaustion, pain, starvation, dehydration, and terror, all at once, they staggered to their feet. For a moment, their vision blurred, before solidifying once more.

Half a dozen heroes fanned out before the entrance, guarding it ruthlessly. Faux looks of concern painted their countenances.

From the array of aches and pains swarming Villain, a single one, all at once, made itself known. Something pressing up against their leg.

Their lighter.

Their trembling gaze flicked to the pile of glimmering red gas cans. It was behind them-- only a few steps back. If they could just...

“Villain!” The person in the front of the group called out-- Hero. “There’s nowhere else to go. It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You just need to come with us. You can’t survive like this much longer, you know that!”

No. What they couldn’t survive was the heroes.

But, they didn’t have to.

Villain took a step back, inching towards the pile.

“Come on, buddy!” Another hero called. “What are you so afraid of?”

It was the heroes who should be afraid. Another step back.

“There’s nowhere to run, Villain.” Hero spoke once more. “Just come with us. No harm will come to you, I swear to it.”

No.

Villain wasn’t ready to die. Not today.

They took the final step, until they were mere inches from the pile. With a well-placed kick, and a horrible clattering, the cans toppled from their precarious pyramid. The reek of gas grew tenfold as brown liquid spilled out, onto the concrete below.

Stepping back from the gasoline-- they were ready to go, not just yet-- they reached into their pocket. The heroes had no time to identify the object they pulled out. By the time they realized what had happened, the lighter had already been thrown.

The flame leapt into the air with such force that Villain was thrown back, tossed to the concrete like a ragdoll.

The faux compassion on the heroes faces turned to an emotion that was very, very real.

Fear.

Spreading so fast that its growth could be heard, the inferno pounced, grabbing onto the base of a wooden support beam and licking its way upwards.

“Everyone!” Hero shouted-- terror in their voice overpowered by sheer determination. “Get out! This building’s not stable.”

“W-what about you?”

“If I’m not out within five minutes, send someone in after me.”

“Are you certain?”

“We’re heroes. And, sometimes, that means saving villains, too.”

Despite their clear reluctance, the other heroes, one by one, nodded, allowing their terror to spur them to flee.

When the last of them was gone, only two remained in the garage. The villain and the hero.

Villain looked upwards, watching as the flame reached the top of the support beam and rippled onto the ceiling.

There were only two ways this could end. They knew that.

Either Hero lost their nerve and fled, allowing their prey to escape, or they both perished in the flames.

No matter which came to pass, there was only one thing that mattered:

They would not die by the hands of a hero.

“You’re scared.” Hero began. Another stupid speech. “I know. I know you’re scared. This last week has been hell for you, I know that. But it doesn’t have to go down like this. You can still make the right choice.

Please. Come with me. I don’t want to hurt you. Believe it or not, I don’t want you to die!”

“You’re a bad liar, you know.” They croaked.

Villain’s lungs were already torn from gasping. The slowly-rising smoke only served to salt their wounds.

Before them, a flaming ceiling tile fell, spraying them with embers.

“You don’t want this! I know you don’t! You don’t want to die!”

“Why do you think I’m doing this?! Of course I don’t want to die, you fucking idiot!”

“Then come with me!”

“It’s like you don’t even hear yourself.”

The building shuddered as a support beam splintered and collapsed. The force of it sent Villain, once again, to the concrete, bathing their face in smoke. As they scrambled to their hands and knees, they could not help but let out a shuddering cough.

“Villain! Watch out!”

“Wh-”

The ceiling tile struck their head, burying them under its accompanying rubble.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Warmth... and music.

They awoke to warmth, and music.

The first of the two came in the form of something soft, heavy, enveloping them, making them feel as though they were buried within a cloud. The music, too, seemed to surround them-- there were no words to it, just the soft, lulling tone of a piano, accompanied by the occasional splash of waves.

It was confusion that first whispered to Villain, when their leaden eyelids at last agreed to open. Above them sat an off-white sky, stretching out to meet with a light blue wall. They blinked once more.

Where...

The chase the heroes the running the building the gas the fire the rubble the-

Villain jolted upright, tossing off of themself a heavy, fleece blanket. Trembling fingers gripped the mattress below them as they scanned the world around, instincts kicking in, searching frantically for an exit.

The room was small, walls colored a soft, baby blue, and lit by a pair of lamps with warm, orange bulbs. The few items of furniture were made of a light brown wood-- three small nightstands, two in corners, and one next to the bed in which Villain lay.

Next to one of the stands was placed a small writing desk and chair, while the other was accompanied by a potted plant, petals just starting to emerge from its buds. Embedded in one wall, a window stood, a small radio perched upon its sill.

The door was at the room’s far end, next to their bed. A wooden door with brass handle-- easy to break down.

But guarded.

Before the door, a figure stood-- a person dressed in a bright flannel, from the breast pocket of which stuck an overabundance of pens.

They did not look particularly strong, but, then again, neither did Villain. At the sound of their movement, the figure turned to face them, a smile growing upon their round face.

“I didn’t even notice you waking up.” They hummed. “Good morning.”

There were two options for escape: The door or the window. Neither was particularly desirable, but they had to choose one...

“Hey, buddy.” The stranger’s voice felt almost as warm as the fleece blanket. “You’re looking a bit like a deer in the headlights, there. I’m sure this is all a bit overwhelming, and I’m sure you’re pretty confused. I’d be confused too, trust me.”

No. There was no confusion in Villain’s mind. They were focused on one thing, the only thing that mattered: Getting out of here!

The flannel-wearing figure took a few steps towards the bed. In instinctual panic, the villain scrambled to their hands and knees, shuffling backwards until their spine was flush with the headboard.

“Hey, hey, shhh.” They hushed. “I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll stay right back here, okay?”

“L-Let me out of here!”

The figure frowned.

“Bud, I’m not sure that you’d last another day out there. Not in the state Hero found you in.”

Hero. Of course they were working for Hero.

“I’ll explain everything, alright bud? But let’s just start here. My name’s Doctor. What’s yours?”

Villain only then noticed that they were shaking like a leaf. Whatever this method of torture or interrogation or whatever it is was, they wanted no part in it. They just wanted to go home! To get out! Warm bed or not, this was a prison. They were sure of it.

But, the bed was comfortable, and there wasn’t a single rat in sight...

“How about this...” Doctor coaxed. “You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you what’s going on, okay?”

A trade. Information for information.

Was it worth it? They supposed there was little use in lying.

“V-Villain. My name’s Villain.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Villain.”

“Now, wh-what is this p-place?”

Doctor nodded.

“This is the Supervillain Memorial Villainous Recovery Center. We’re in the city, right by the river. Next to the botanical gardens, if you know where that is.”

They were really telling them the location of their prison? Surely it would have been better to keep such a thing secret. That is, assuming they were telling the truth.

“I believe you’ve been asleep for about... seventeen hours.” Doctor glanced to their watch. “Yep, just about. You’ve been here for maybe half that time. After you got caught in the fire, Hero brought you to the hospital. They bandaged your wounds and brought you here. I hope you slept well.”

Villain almost laughed at that, before a realization struck them. They had slept well. Sure, remnants of the specter of fatigue still haunted them, but for the first time in days, they felt awake enough to think clearly.

But, this was still a prison.

Right?

Prisons didn’t usually have soft beds and fleece blankets, but...

No. It was a trick. This was a prison, and they were a prisoner.

“Let me go.” Villain insisted, though it was halfhearted. “Y-You can’t keep me here! I’m leaving. I need to leave!”

Doctor frowned again, biting their lower lip.

“I’m sorry, Villain, but for now, you’re going to have to stay here. But, I promise, you’ll like it here.” They sighed. “I know you’re scared, and confused, and a thousand other things. But, here, you’re safe. There’s other people here-- quite a few of them, in fact. And, at one point, they were all like you. But ask any one of them. This is the best place for you to be.”

Other people?

“Where are they? W-What are you doing to them?!”

Doctor smiled.

“They’re in our main wing, right now. I believe everyone is eating lunch right about now. I don’t know about you, but where I come from, lunch isn’t a form of torture.”

Villain pursed their lips.

“Then, where am I?”

“This is our arrivals wing. You’re going to stay here, for a few days. Until you’re comfortable, and we can make sure all that smoke is out of your lungs. Then you can join in with everyone else. I’m gonna move over to the side of the bed now, okay? I won’t touch you.”

Even with the warning, Villain couldn’t help but flinch as Doctor approached. They moved to the nightstand at the bed’s side, plucking a small, red box from its surface.

“Hero told me to give this to you, when you got up. It’s not exactly the most nutritious thing to start your day off with, but I think you deserve something tasty.”

They offered the box. After a moment of hesitance, Villain snapped it from their hands, drawing it close to their chest. Was it a threat? Some kind of warning? Morbid curiosity took hold of them, prompting them to open the box’s lid.

Chocolates.

A dozen chocolates, laid out in the design of a star.

“I can eat these?”

“Go ahead.”

Without hesitance, this time, they popped one of the candy pieces into their mouth. Its flavor overwhelmed them, strong enough to nearly knock them over. It’d been days since they’d eaten anything that didn’t come off a bush or from the dumpster.

“Um...” Villain looked back up, closing the box. “So, when are you going to kill me?”

Doctor laughed.

“Hero will be visiting tomorrow. With how long they can talk for, I think you’re only in danger of dying of boredom.”

This was a prison. Of course it was.

Yet, as they glanced down at the box of chocolates, they could not help but forget all thought of panic and escape.

#villain whumpee #whump #hero caretaker #scared whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #ask

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

dancing on dreams, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, (very) minor jungkook x reader

summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Big sigh. He’s drunk out of his mind and blabbering away. Then the right guy who you’re supposed to pick up, Min Yoongi, says Jungkook’s apartment is on the way. Might as well drop off passed-out Jungkook and make sure he’s okay. Or Yoongi could fuck you on Jungkook’s bed. That also works.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; smut (fem reader, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluff; non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; you two fuck slightly on top of and next to sleeping Jungkook, tsk tsk; technically JK is in his red My Time outfit lol

repost, originally called ‘a–dick–ted’ and then I realized tumblr doesn’t like that lmao

now playing – don’t threaten me with a good time by panic! at the disco

“I’m not as think as you drunk I am.”

That’s what Jeon Jungkook slurred to you as he flopped into your passenger’s seat, the stench of alcohol so strong you recoiled. He was wearing a thin red blazer and his sheer black shirt was missing half the top buttons, revealing his tan, muscular pecs.

Also, he wasn’t supposed to be in your car.

“Get out.”

Jungkook hiccupped and squinted at you. “Noona! What’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here,” he continued, completely ignoring your annoyed look. “I thought you didn’t party.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s because I don’t. I’m picking someone up. Get out of my car.”

He shot two finger guns at you. “Eyy, that could be me.”

“It most certainly is not you, Jeon Jungkook. Now yeet yourself out of my car, please.”

He spread his legs, red slacks way too tight for him and his thick thighs and calves. He was wearing patent black leather oxfords as well. The only reason Jungkook bothered to look this good was to get attention. You sighed loudly. You shouldn’t have left your doors unlocked. You had been waiting outside the party house for only ten minutes. Lights and laughter boomed from the home, livening the late night. Too many drunk people were making out on the porch. It was a fucking mess. A minute ago, you were alone, playing on your phone, only to hear the door click and to see the wrong person saunter into your car.

Jungkook slapped his thighs and you flinched, looking away.

“Hey, I thought we were cool,” he grinned, tilting his head. His long black hair was half-tied back, curly from sweat. “I only tried to kiss you that one time.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, you tried to put your hands down my pants, you manwhore.”

Jungkook made a disgusted face. “Whoa, hey, no, no. I’m not a manwhore.”

Your eyebrows rose so high you thought they left your face.

“Your harem says otherwise.”

You pointed outside your car. Seven girls were clinging to the railing, staring at Jungkook in your car. Jungkook turned his head and grinned, waving. Then he abruptly shook it, turning back to you.

You gave him a deadpan stare.

He struggled to complete a full sentence. “What I’m saying is…” Five full seconds of Jungkook trying to conjure five brain cells and failing. “Yeah, okay, I kiss people and touch and stuff…” You were ready to punch him out of your car. “But I’m a…” Hiccup. He looked slightly green.

Then he opened your car door and stuck his head out, vomiting.

“Ugh, gross,” you frowned, repulsed. You looked around your car and found a half-full water bottle in your cup holder. Jungkook turned around and you shoved it into his face, shooing him.

“Rinse out your mouth before you speak to me again, animal.”

Jungkook stared at the water bottle and took it, grimacing. Then he unscrewed the cap, placed it to his lips, and took a big gulp, sloshing it in his mouth before gargling and spitting onto the grass. You looked away, shaking your head.

Ew.

Not to mention he just indirectly kissed you.

Double ew.

You heard him do it again and then noisily drink the rest, crushing the plastic with suction. You turned back to see Jungkook shoot the crumpled plastic bottle out your car.

“What the fuck? Why did you litter?” you scowled.

Jungkook looked out the window, surprised. “Oh. You’re right. Sorry.”

You narrowed your eyes. Out of your peripheral vision, you noticed Jungkook’s harem rush to the fallen water bottle, claiming it triumphantly like crows to a shiny bit of aluminum foil. Okay, well… at least it wasn’t litter.

He cleared his throat, pointing at you. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m not a–”

“Dirty little fuckboy?”

His head jerked back, dark brown eyes narrowing at you.

“How do you read my mind?” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, I’m a virgin.”

You blinked at him and his half-open shirt.

“What?”

Jungkook grinned at you and gave you two thumbs up. “Eyyy.”

Your jaw dropped, but before you could say anything else, you heard a sharp tapping at the driver’s seat window. Two pointed, dark brown eyes squinted at you, frowning. Oh. The person you were actually supposed to pick up. His upper lip upturned a bit, giving him a kitten-like pout.

“Why is there vomit on the passenger’s side and why is Jeon Jungkook passed out next to you?”

You started your car and rolled your window down, grimacing at Min Yoongi. He was wearing a black and navy bomber jacket, white shirt, and distressed black jeans. Ah, his hair was black again. You always told him he looked best in black hair. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I left my doors unlocked for you and he just waltzed in.”

Yoongi looked past you. “He looks dead.”

You snapped your head back. “He was awake a sec–”

Jungkook was asleep, mouth open, half-slid down the passenger’s seat. Absolutely gone.

You heard Yoongi open the backseat door and slide in. He smelled like whiskey and his pale face was a bit pink, but he didn’t seem as drunk as Jungkook.

“Well, he lives in my building, so I guess we’ll just take him home,” Yoongi said absentmindedly.

You shot him a pained look. “Yoongi, why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s the moral thing to do?”

You groaned and began to drive.

“You have to help me carry him.”

“I most certainly will not. He’s your friend.”

“You will.”

Five minutes later, you and Min Yoongi were dragging Jeon Jungkook’s dead weight up three flights of stairs, absolutely hating life, and wondering why you decided to wear your heeled black ankle boots today. Sure, they weren’t insanely high, but they weren’t the right shoes for the job. Plus, your flared red miniskirt and gray cropped long-sleeve weren’t helping either. Your shirt had a cat graphic on it that said, “go away,” with two middle fingers.

You felt it described you very well, actually.

Finally, after having made it to the metal door of Jungkook’s apartment, Yoongi crammed his hand into Jungkook’s tight pants’ pockets, feeling around.

“Key’s on your side.”

“I’m not touching him any more than necessary.”

Jungkook raised his head for a half-second, eyes barely open.

“Where’d the party go?” he mumbled and then dropped his head into your shoulder. His chiseled jaw cut into your flesh, alcohol-stained breath against your cheek.

“Save me from this hell, Yoongi.”

Yoongi chuckled deeply and reached around Jungkook’s waist. The back of his hand brushed against your hip and you flinched, eyes flickering to him. His pink lips curved into a crafty smirk. You rolled your eyes and waited as Yoongi yanked Jungkook’s keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door.

“Come on, Jungkook, step please,” Yoongi murmured softly, nudging Jungkook’s legs with his own. Jungkook groaned, head lolling.

“He’s dead,” you muttered as the two of you lugged him into the apartment. “Let’s leave and let the Grim Reaper find him.”

Yoongi ignored your complaining. He lowered himself, throwing Jungkook’s full weight on you. You grunted, extremely disgruntled, as you fell against the wall, using it as support. You had to hold Jungkook’s upper arms to keep him upright, squeezing his hard biceps. His hips hit you in the lower stomach. Ow. Yoongi closed the door and locked it, meandering on where to put the keys, settling on the hook next to the door.

“I’m going to be crushed to death. Is this guy made out of rocks or something?”

Yoongi continued to ignore you, crouching down to remove Jungkook’s shoes. You sighed loudly, staring up at the ceiling. If Jungkook wasn’t Yoongi’s friend, you probably would have pushed him into his own vomit and let the she-wolves have him.

Alright, no, you wouldn’t have, but you weren’t happy about these current events either.

You jumped as you felt Yoongi’s large hand encircle your left calf. You jerked your head down to see him staring up at you, raising an eyebrow. His fingertips kneaded your bare skin slowly. You narrowed your eyes at him and he reached for the zipper of your black boot, sliding it down. One first and then the other, hand holding your calf the entire time. Then Yoongi stood up, dark brown eyes observing you with a spark of amusement. You thinned your mouth into a line and abruptly kicked your shoes off in his direction. Yoongi dodged you easily, smirking.

Jungkook shivered and slumped, his shoulder blades hitting your sternum.

“Motherfuc–”

Yoongi laughed, pink gums flashing, and grabbed Jungkook by the armpit, hauling him up.

“Let’s get him to the bed.”

“I’m ready to chuck him to the floor,” you hissed, rubbing your chest ruefully.

Using the last of your patience, Yoongi and you managed to dump Jungkook onto his bed. Thankfully Jungkook’s apartment was tiny and somewhat clean, so you didn’t have to go very far. You sat on the edge of the bed, panting, as Yoongi calmly removed Jungkook’s blazer and tossed it aside. He gently slapped Jungkook’s face, and Jungkook made a noise like a dying duck.

“Hm, he’s pretty far gone.”

“No shit, you think?” You prodded the soft navy sheets of Jungkook’s bed. They were pretty nice. Maybe you could find the tag and write down the brand later.

Yoongi adjusted the taller man so he was on his side. He looked down at him, pursing his lips.

“We should stay for a bit. Make sure he doesn’t choke.”

You groaned, slapping the bed impatiently. “Who cares, Yoongi? He did this to himself!”

Yoongi smiled, walking around the bed towards you. Jungkook started to snore. Very loudly. His dark hair was curled around his forehead, his long lashes fluttering.

“See? He’s not dead.”

You stiffened as you felt Yoongi stand in front of you, his hand tracing your cheek to turn your head to face him. Your eyes shifted from Jungkook’s sleeping form to Yoongi’s sly smirk. His slightly rounded cheeks were still tinted pink.

“Shh, don’t complain. I’m here with you,” he said softly, caressing your cheek.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You owe me.”

He leaned down, eyes shimmering with amusement. “That I do.”

And then he kissed you, inhaling your scent and tasting like whiskey. You sighed softly into his mouth, licking his soft lips and pressing back against him. You forgot how it started, really. Perhaps a passing touch? An accidental brush of his fingers against yours? His knee leaning against your thigh for a little too long? Your hand holding onto his shoulder to grab something, maybe a little too tightly? Soon it had become a game of cat and mouse, sneaking hints of each other in innocent public gatherings. Your clothed breasts pressing against his back, trying to squeeze past. His hand brushing against your hip, fingertips tracing the waistband of your pants.

It didn’t really have a name. You two just did it, relying on eye contact, seeing the reaction of the other, spurred on by more and more dangerous actions, upping the ante. Shorter and shorter skirts, his fingers touching your bare thigh, making you shiver.

Yoongi placed a hand on your thigh now, sliding it up. You slapped yours over it, drawing back a little from his intense kiss.

“We’re on Jungkook’s bed,” you breathed, cocking your head towards the sleeping male.

Jungkook snorted in his sleep.

Yoongi grinned. “So?” His dark eyes dangerous, so dangerous. “Bet you still want it.”

He pulled his hand out from under you and put them on your knees, eyes locked with yours. You gave him a warning glare but he spread your legs, lifting your knees up and back. You fell onto your elbows, gasping as he tilted his head, licking his lips as he viewed the wet spot of your red silk panties.

“You wore the nice ones today,” he observed. “Excited to see me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Maybe I just like being pretty for myself.”

Yoongi smirked, getting onto the bed, crawling over you. “You’re already pretty. You don’t need clothes for that.”

Your felt your ears burn at the compliment. You reached up to pull his head down so he could kiss you again, hungry, deep kisses as he lifted your hips, pressing the wet spot on his bare thigh where a massive hole had been ripped in his jeans. You moaned softly, feeling him grind into your soaking pussy.

“I love those jeans,” you whispered, grinning.

Yoongi chuckled. “Me too.”

Snoring Jungkook rolled over and his leg smacked against your elbow.

Yoongi reached down and eased your panties to one side, pressing his thigh against your bare slit. You whimpered quietly, rocking your hips into his leg, stimulating your clit. He continued to kiss you, light, feathery kisses, playing with your tongue and lips, gently nipping at your skin.

“Don’t you feel nice?” Yoongi purred. “Doing something wrong?”

You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows. “Isn’t that what we always do?”

Yoongi kissed down your neck, humming. Your elbow rubbed against Jungkook’s leg as Yoongi began to suck on your flesh, making your back arch. His tongue licked at your hot skin and he blew on it, sending shivers down your spine. He slid down, removing his leg, and replaced it with his hand, pressing it into your wet heat. You gasped, sliding down, arm pressed against Jungkook’s muscular thigh and calf.

“I love the sounds you make,” Yoongi whispered, breath tickling your skin. “Music to my ears.”

He slid a finger into you.

“A-ah, Yoongi…” You clutched the sheets, catching a bit of Jungkook’s pants in your grip.

He thrust it in and out of you, slow, pushing your shirt and bra up. Licking your nipples lightly, watching you tilt your head back, eyes closed. He inserted another into your tight, wet hole, feeling you clench around them, sucking him in.

“So sexy,” he mumbled around your nipple, pushing it with his tongue. “So fuckable.”

You gasped as he increased the pace, simultaneously sucking on your nipple. The wrongness of it all made it even better, pleasure mounting fast as you felt your stomach tighten, so close, Yoongi knowing all the best spots to melt you. You breathed his name, pussy tightening as you came, soaking his fingers with your slick juices, humping his hand slightly.

He thrust into you a few more times, slowly, before sliding out and placing them in his mouth, sucking off your taste. He smirked.

“Turn over.”

You exhaled before trying to roll to your right. Yoongi stopped you.

“Other way.”

You frowned. “Jungkook’s there.”

Yoongi grinned mischievously.

“Yoongi…”

He licked his lips, purring your name. So sweet, so enticing.

You let out a puff of air and lifted yourself to your elbows. You turned your head, seeing Jungkook’s head flopped to the side, mouth open. The sharp line of his jaw, his pouty pink lips, his closed eyes. Still very not elegantly snoring away, and yet you noticed the way his dark hair curled around his forehead, his tiny ponytail mussed from being asleep.

“He likes you, you know,” Yoongi said.

You snorted. “He’s upset I’m not trying to make out with him so he’s trying to touch my lady bits.”

“Same thing.”

You turned your head back, seeing Yoongi shrug out of his bomber jacket. “Did you know he’s a virgin?”

Yoongi’s dark eyebrows raised. “Oh? Interesting.”

You shrugged. “Well, that’s what he said in my car anyway. I don’t know if it’s true.”

Yoongi chuckled. “It probably is. Jungkook’s sappy like that.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Needs to be the love of his life and stuff.”

You tilted your head at him. “And you?”

Yoongi smiled at you. “I don’t need that. I only need you.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Hah, right.”

Yoongi leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You think I’m lying, but you know it’s true. I always have the most fun with you.”

You scrunched your face and felt Yoongi grab your shirt, yanking it and your bra over your head. You puffed your cheeks at his insistence, but Yoongi grabbed your breasts, rubbing his thumbs onto your hardened nipples. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him back, tongue against tongue, drinking him in. He nudged you to your left.

“Come on…”

You sighed against his lips. “Alright, alright, you bad boy.”

He smirked as you rolled over, careful not to touch Jungkook’s thighs and placing your hands on either side of his hips. Your knees ended up in between his, tightly together. Jungkook’s sheer shirt had eased out of his waist, abs peeking out from the bottom. You swallowed, feeling Yoongi moving behind you, grasping your panties and pulling down.

“You shouldn’t try to fu–”

Your words turned into a gasp as Yoongi’s tongue swiped up your dripping pussy, licking it all up. Your arms trembled, cries dying in your throat as you stared at asleep Jungkook, trying not to make any sound. Yoongi began to noisily eat you out, shoving his tongue inside you and scooping out your juices, his hands spreading your ass. Your shoulders dipped, hands spreading outwards. He slid down a little, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves and licking at it roughly.

“Yoongi, fuck,” you hissed, arching your back. His tongue was too good, so good you almost forgot you were positioned above dozing Jungkook’s dick and abs. Jungkook sighed, turning his head the other way and resuming his snoring. If Yoongi’s tongue wasn’t going to make you pass out, then you were definitely going to get a heart attack if Jungkook woke up in the middle of this.

Yoongi’s mouth latched around your clit and he sucked, hard. Your shaking hips rolled into his face, raspy breaths rattling your chest as you struggled to stay silent, feeling your pussy leaking onto his cheeks, so wet you could hear it behind you.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, sliding down, nipples brushing against Jungkook’s clothed thighs. “Fuck, Yoongi, I’m so fucking close…”

If Jungkook woke up now, you wouldn’t have noticed because pleasure raced up your nerves, intoxicating you, Yoongi’s expert tongue licking and sucking on your clit, so wet and wonderful and tight it was taking over you. Your hand lost balance and your righted yourself, planting it onto Jungkook’s abs. The contours of his muscle molded to your palm as your hand slid up, low moan leaving your lips as you came again, Yoongi opening his mouth and sucking it out of you. Your body shuddered, fucking his face as your rode out your orgasm, nails curling onto Jungkook’s chest.

Jungkook moaned in his sleep, breathy and deep.

The sound brought you back to reality and you jerked your hand away, startled at you were touching him. Yoongi lapped at your pussy leisurely before straightening. You turned your head to see his very self-satisfied expression.

“Looks like dream Jungkook liked that,” Yoongi smirked.

You shook your fist at him. “I touched him!” you whispered angrily.

Yoongi looked unbothered. “A tragedy.”

You pushed yourself off the bed and stepped towards him, legs tangled in your panties. You irritably kicked them off before poking Yoongi in the chest. Now you were only in your red skirt.

“What was that for, huh?” you whispered heatedly.

Yoongi grinned. “Fun.”

He took you by the waist and pulled you to him, kissing you deeply. Now you could taste yourself and the whiskey, sweet and bitter, mixed with Yoongi’s lust as he led you with him. He pushed you back onto the bed, kissing you eagerly, smiling, making you smile too because Yoongi was so much fun, so naughty, and you would never know it from his usual bored expression when he was out in public.

Yoongi undid his jeans as you reached into his back pocket for his wallet, squeezing his ass as you did so. You took the condom out, still kissing him, still licking his lips, unwrapping it. He pushed his clothes down, freeing his cock and you rolled the condom down, moaning as your felt his hard length in your hands.

“Right here?” you murmured against his lips.

“Fuck yes,” Yoongi drawled. “Right next to your favorite drunkard, Jeon Jungkook.”

You laughed. “Alright, he’s annoying, but he’s not a drunkard.”

Yoongi thrust into you and you whined in pleasure, raising your hips to meet him. A playful smirk danced on his lips as he began to roll his hips into you.

“He’s not, but he is today and so I’m going to take advantage of it,” he panted, fucking you nice and slow and perfect, making sure to stretch you out, filling every part of you with his cock.

“Ah, Yoongi, you’re so good,” you gasped, tightening around him, heightening the pleasure. “Such a nice dick.”

He grinned wickedly. “Excuse me, I think you mean the best dick you’ve ever had.”

You smiled back, meeting his hips, slapping them together and making a deliciously sloppy wet smack. “You’re right, the best dick I’ve ever had.”

Jungkook rolled over a bit, exhaling serenely.

Yoongi dipped his head against your ear, moaning softly as he increased the pace, fucking you hard into Jungkook’s bed. “Think he can hear us?”

You chuckled. “You want him to hear us.”

“No,” Yoongi replied, far too mischievously to mean it. “But maybe he should, because your pussy sounds sexy as fuck.”

You sucked in a breath as Yoongi pounded you, falling back a little so your tits bounced. Yoongi’s dark eyes flickered down to you, sparkling with appreciation as you bit your lip, flicking and pulling on your nipples lightly, heightening the pleasure.

“I’m close,” he groaned. “Squeeze me harder.”

You did, tightening your core and he threw his head back, moaning silently as his hips slammed into yours, once, twice, and he came, loud smack of your hips meeting and his cock throbbing into your walls, spurting his cum into the condom and making it swell inside you. You exhaled hotly upwards, tipping your head back, Yoongi’s name drifting out of your lips in bliss.

He just felt so good.

It might not have a name, but it didn’t need one, because Yoongi’s eyes found yours and there was only ecstasy, perfect, lovely, wicked ecstasy of the mighty who had already fallen.

Jungkook woke up immensely groggily, head pounding, his sense of space and time completely and utterly fucked.

But he wasn’t dead, so… yay?

He frowned and rolled over. He was in a soft place. A bed. He breathed in deep. His bed. Nice. But he smelled something else. Jungkook squinted. He could see someone. He touched his chest, finding his shirt still on, barely. He still had his pants on. Oh, good. He didn’t accidentally lose his virginity in a drunken stupor.

He recognized that large pale hand. Jungkook frowned again, squinting harder. Yoongi-hyung? But the hand was over a pair of soft breasts, squeezing them together.

“N-noona?” Jungkook croaked.

You reached over and placed a hand over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Go back to sleep, Jungkook. You need to sleep.”

That’s true. Jungkook did need to sleep. This was probably just a dream anyway. No way Yoongi-hyung and noona were naked in his bed, tangled in his blankets. That would be nuts. Totally crazy. Jungkook drifted back into slumber, softly snoozing away.

second act. dreaming in reality a–dick–ted au

masterpost

extended playlist where did the party go by fall out boy the mighty fall by fall out boy

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x you

857 notes · View notes

study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Stupid Game (A Halstead brothers + Halstead! sister imagine)

If you've read Someone I Used to Know by Patty Blount, you'll understand where I drew the inspiration from. Warning: includes sexual harassment and threats of sexual assault.

Fifteen days. Fifteen days left of this stupid and terrifying game. You could get through fifteen more days of their stupid game, after all, you were already halfway through. But, seeing as it was halfway done, they'd start to get more desperate. You needed something on you, anything. Pepperspray, mace, a knife, a razor blade--

"Y/N," you were snapped out of your thoughts by your brother, Jay, saying your name. "What are you doing up? I thought you had online first block today?" he asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard.

"I do," you answered, stirring the peanut butter into your oatmeal once more. "Just wanted to get up and get some math homework done," you lied.

"You didn't do it last night?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow at you as he sat down across from you.

"I know, I should've done it. But I was frustrated that I couldn't figure it out and figured maybe looking at it in the morning with fresh eyes would help."

"Fair enough."

"You're not mad I procrastinated?" That was one thing both he and Will agreed on when it came to you and school: procrastinating and not getting your assignments done was unacceptable. They said they didn't care about grades as long as you didn't fail-- and you weren't, you were getting all A's and B's-- but they did care about you trying your absolute best.

Jay shook his head. "No, sounds like you got it all figured out." He looked at his watch. "I gotta go. I'm gonna be late. See you when I get home."

Jay stood up and put his bowl and mug into the dishwasher. "Will you be home for dinner?" you asked...which was really code for if he was going to cook or if you were fending for yourself.

"I don't know. We don't have an ongoing case, so depends on today's case." You opened your mouth to ask if you could order takeout when he stopped you. "And, yes, you can get takeout. I just expect the receipt and change."

"I know, I know. Now, go save Chicago," you said, shooing him out the door.

"It's a team effort," he replied.

"Yeah, yeah. Say hi to Hailey for me."

"Will do!" he yelled to you over his shoulder.

You waited another five minutes until you knew that Jay wasn't coming back before starting your mission. You went into Jay's room and opened his closet. After peering at all the shelves, you had almost given up, when a piece of cardboard on the top shelf caught your eye.

"Gonna need a chair for this," you mumbled and then made your way back into the kitchen and dragged a chair into Jay's room.

After moving a few things, you pulled the box down and set it on the floor. "What are you hiding in here, Jay?" you asked yourself, having never seen this box. You knew it was Jay's though because J. Halstead was written on the side in black permanent marker.

Slowly, you opened the box, as if scared something was going to jump out at you or Jay was miraculously going to appear and tell you not to open it. But, neither of those two things happened.

"Holy shit," you muttered as you opened the box. You thought this stuff was stored away in a storage locker, but it was here all along.

Inside the box was Jay's military uniform, all folded up, along with his dog tags and a few pictures from his time overseas. You felt like you were looking at one of Jay's most intimate secrets, just by looking at this stuff. You wondered who in those pictures came home and who didn't. There was also a small leather journal, and tied to the side of it was a knife.

You picked up the journal and untied the knife from it. You'd be lying if you said that opening the journal and reading it hadn't crossed your mind. But, you viewed your brother as a war hero, and if there was anything in there that would change that view, you didn't want to know. You also knew he had seen some horrific things over there, not that he had ever given you any specific details on the missions, you just knew because of how hard some cases hit him, especially kid cases.

So, you placed everything back into the box just like you found it and put it back on the shelf. Except for the knife, that you kept.

It felt heavy in your hands. The red handle was faded, probably from all the sand that had rubbed against it overseas. You ran a finger over the blade, a little dull from not being sharpened in all these years.

You jumped as your phone alarm went off, alerting you that you had half an hour before you had to leave. You turned it off and placed the knife in your pocket. Then, you dragged the chair back to the kitchen and continued to get ready for school, the extra protection you now had would make you feel more protected for these next fifteen days, that you were sure of.

With the knife safely placed in your backpack half an hour later, you headed off to school.

***

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at his phone. Your school was calling him, which was odd. The only reason he thought that they'd be calling was that you didn't show up, you weren't a troublemaker like he was when he was in high school. The stakes were higher now, so you couldn't afford to mess up.

"Sarge, I gotta take this. It's Y/N's school," he said and then proceeded to walk to an interrogation room for some privacy in case the call was serious.

"Jay Halstead," Jay said as he answered.

"Mr. Halstead this is Ben White, principal of Central Chicago High School. I have Y/N in my office right now and I would appreciate it if you could come down here."

"Is she in trouble?" Jay asked, knowing if it were anything other than that, he would have told him.

There was a pause on the other end of the line as the principal tried to figure out what to say. "Somewhat. I'll explain more in person."

"Okay, thank you. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

He hung up the phone and exited the interrogation room and went back into the bullpen to grab his keys and coat.

"Everything okay?" Voight asked.

"Not really. Y/N got in trouble at school, so I gotta go talk to her principal."

"What'd she do?" Kevin asked.

"Don't know yet, said he'll explain when I get there."

"Just don't be too hard on her. She's a good kid, Jay."

"I know, which is why I'm shocked that she's in trouble at all."

Hailey placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay."

***

When Jay walked into the principal's office, it was just like he remembered it from when he was in trouble in high school. Most of his were for a few fistfights at lunch or just not doing his homework. Hell, when he looked at you, you were in the same position he was always in whenever your guys' mom or dad had to come to pick him up: hands in your lap, head down, and eyes trained on the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Mr. Halstead, take a seat," Mr. White motioned for him to sit in the other empty seat facing his desk.

"Please, call me Jay. Mr. Halstead's my father. Now, what's this about?" he asked, looking between you and the principal to see which one of you would be the one to tell him.

"Well, as you know we have a very strict no-weapons policy at the school. And, well, your sister, this fell out of her locker."

At this, you looked up, wanting to gauge Jay's reaction. Something flashed across his eyes for a moment, and then anger took over a few seconds later. "A knife? Really? And my Ranger's knife at that?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled. But, you couldn't tell him what was going on. After all, it's not like the school would do anything about it, which wasn't for lack of trying because oh people had tried alright.

Jay took a deep breath, not wanting to blow up at you in front of anyone. "Why do you even have it?"

When you didn't answer him, he turned to your principal. "She said that she was snooping through your stuff, and she found the knife, thought it was cool, and wanted to show it to her friends."

Now, snooping, Jay could see. But showing a knife to your friends? Even having a remote interest in any type of weapon? Well, that just wasn't you and you both knew that. But, he knew you wouldn't tell him the real reason unless you were alone, even then it was a long shot.

"I see," Jay nodded. "Let's not beat around the bush here. What kind of trouble is she in?"

"Well, typically we have to call the cops on this type of stuff, but I figured since you were a cop, that this would do. Typically, there's also a three to five day suspension that comes with these things, but seeing everything she's gone through in the past years and that she has outstanding grades and never has even had a detention, I'm going to let her off with a warning. She just has to go home for the rest of the day," Mr. White answered.

"And this won't be on her record?" Jay asked.

"This won't be on her record," Mr. White confirmed.

"What do you say, Y/N?" Jay asked.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, looking up once again.

"And?"

"And it won't happen again." Jay cleared his throat, telling you that you forgot something. "Sir," you added quickly.

It was always something your dad had taught Jay and Will when they got in trouble, that they had to use either sir or ma'am in the apology. Up until today, you never had to use it, but here you were. There's a first time for everything.

"I'm sure it won't," Mr. White said.

"I'm gonna go get my stuff," you said to Jay before leaving the principal's office.

Jay rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. Then, he turned back to Ben White. "I'm really sorry about this. I don't know why she'd do anything like this. This isn't like her--"

"Jay, she's been through a lot," he sympathized. "She's probably just acting out. Every teenager goes through that. We both know you did."

Mr. White was a young teacher back when Jay and Will were in high school, and he got to see some of Jay's fights first hand. He even had to rip him off a kid once in the cafeteria.

"Hey, they were always for good reasons...And, I always won."

"Now that you're not a student anymore, I can agree with that statement." He heard the door to the main office open. "Just, don't be too hard on her, okay?"

Jay nodded and stood up and left the office. Now he had to deal with his sister and try to figure out what was actually the real cause of this.

***

You started to run up the stairs but were stopped quickly by Jay's stern voice. "No, come back down here. We're going to talk about this."

You sighed, knowing you were going to be in deep shit from him since you got nothing from the school. You handed him your phone, but surprisingly, he handed it back to you.

"I get to keep my phone?"

"You do, but that's only because I'm letting you drive to and from school and that's it. You go to school and you come straight home. No stopping for coffee, donuts, fries, nothing. I need you to have your phone on you in case you get in an accident." You nodded, knowing his logic was sound.

"How long?"

"Three weeks."

"Jay! But homecoming's in two and a half! And I'm going dress shopping with Emma this weekend!"

"Should've thought of that before you brought a knife to school, my military knife at that. Why were you looking through my stuff anyway?"

"Just curious, I guess." It was a lie and you both knew it.

"That's not the truth. What's going on? Come on, you know you can tell me."

Not this I can't. But, you didn't say that. "That is the truth, Jay. Now, how am I going to get my homecoming dress?"

"You don't need a dress if you're not going to the dance."

"You can't keep this from me--"

"Yes, yes I can. If it was detention for tardies or a failed test or hell, even a fight, this wouldn't be happening. But you brought a knife to school. Not only is that against school rules, but it's against the law. What you did was illegal, Y/N."

"I know and I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it this time, not with this. But, if you want to get a dress and go to the dance, maybe doing some extra chores can get you that."

"So, I don't have to tell Emma I can't come this weekend?" you asked, hopefully.

"Not what I said. You still can't go with Emma. If you earn back that privilege, Hailey can take you."

"But, Jay--"

"No buts. I put the offer on the table and I can just as easily take it off."

"Uh, fine."

"Now, I know you have classwork from the classes you missed today, so get to it. And, don't think I won't be telling Will about this."

***

You jolted awake from your sleep. Must've just been a nightmare, you thought. A really loud nightmare.

"You bastard!" you heard Jay yell.

Okay, so not a nightmare.

"Get away from him!"

Him? Who else was in the house besides you and Jay?

If it was serious, you knew Jay would have come to wake you up to get you out of the house or yelled your name by now. Slowly, you stood up and grabbed your phone. Then, you exited your room and walked across the hall to Jay's.

You heard more yelling and tossing and turning as you stood outside his door. After taking a deep breath, you slowly turned the knob and walked into his room.

When you saw the way Jay looked, you instantly knew what this was. "Let him go and no one gets hurt!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Jay turned towards you as if he had heard a noise in his nightmare which caused him to abruptly turn. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids and his face was dripping sweat.

Luckily, he started to calm down. His breathing started to slow and he hadn't yelled for over a minute.

"Jay," you whispered, taking a step closer to him. "Jay. Jay Halstead," you repeated, this time a little louder.

Nothing. You took a risk and touched his shoulder. "Bastard!" he yelled, throwing a punch which caused you to jump back, his fist narrowly missing your face.

Now it was his as well as your breathing that was coming out jagged.

You couldn't wake him up. You couldn't risk touching him again.

Jay yelled out again, causing you to jump and run out of his room.

You pulled out your phone and dialed the familiar number, hoping that he hadn't gotten called into work.

"Hmmm, hello?" your oldest brother's voice came through your phone, thick with sleep.

"Will, I need you. Please come over."

"Y/N? What's wrong?" He immediately sat up in bed upon hearing the worry in your voice.

"Jay's he's having a nightmare and I can't wake him up and--"

Yelling could be heard in the background and Will cut you off. "Is that him?"

"Yeah." The next part, you said quieter. You knew it wasn't Jay's fault this was happening, but it didn't make your feelings any less valid. "Will, I'm scared."

You heard a door close on Will's end. "It's okay. I don't think he's ever sleep-walked from a nightmare. Just, whatever you do, do not touch him. Understand?"

"Yes." More screaming. "Please, just hurry."

You don't know how you got through those fifteen minutes without completely breaking down. And, in those fifteen minutes, it had gone from yelling to hearing a few things slam to the ground. You assumed it was just things on Jay's bedside table, like his alarm clock, water bottle, and phone that had fallen from him trying to throw punches every which way, but you were too scared to check. What if he was up and standing and could throw things at you? You couldn't do that.

The sight Will saw when he unlocked the door and walked into the house completely broke his heart. You were sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with your feet tucked under you, and silent tears were streaming down your face. If Will hadn't known any better, he would have thought you were making yourself as small as possible as if to disappear.

Will knelt down in front of you so that he was at eye level with you. "Hey, has it gotten worse?" You didn't look at him and that was all the confirmation Will needed.

You let out a deep shaky sob, finally feeling like it was safe for you to make noise again. Will took that opportunity to envelop you in a hug. "It's okay. It's okay. He can't hurt you. It's not him that's doing this. He doesn't know he's home."

"I know he thinks he's in Afghanistan, but he, Will, he almost, if I didn't..." you trailed off, not knowing how to tell your brother that Jay had almost hit you.

"What did he almost do, Y/N? You know he'll want all the details when he wakes up, so just tell me. I promise I won't be mad at him."

You took a deep breath. "He almost hit me, Will. I touched his shoulder and he just swung and--"

"Did I or did I not tell you not to touch him?"

"This was before I called you."

There was another crash and you whimpered. Will gave you one last squeeze and stood up. "Whatever you do, do not follow me, Y/N. I don't want you to see this."

You nodded and tugged your blanket tighter around you as if that was even possible.

The ice was melting in Will's hands as he walked towards Jay's bedroom. He could hear yelling, well, they were more like loud sobs at this point. The floor next to his bed was covered in things that fell from his bedside table: his alarm clock, water bottle, phone, the lamp...which luckily hadn't been on and the bulb hadn't broken.

"Now or never," Will muttered to himself as he stepped towards his younger brother. Then, he flung the ice out in front of him, causing it to land on Jay, and jumped back as fast as possible.

"You bastard! Fuck!" Jay's eyes shot open, drinking in his surroundings.

"Jay," Will said, quietly alerting his brother of his presence before placing his hand on his shoulder. "You're home, in Chicago, you're safe." Noticing that Jay's breathing hadn't yet slowed, Will overexaggerated his inhales and exhales. "Breathe with me. In...Out...In...Out...Good..." And so they continued that until Jay no longer needed Will to guide him through his breathing.

"What happened?" he asked, looking to where his things were strewn on the floor.

"Y/N called me. You were screaming and she tried to wake you up, but couldn't."

Jay's eyes widened. "Oh, God. I didn't...Please tell me I didn't hurt her, Will."

"No, but you did come close. She said she touched your shoulder and you just swung. She jumped out the way, though."

"Oh, God. I almost hit her, Will. Fuck. I'm a horrible brother."

Will sat done next to his brother, despite his sheets being all sweaty. "You are not a horrible brother, far from it. She knows it wasn't you that was doing this. Your mind was somewhere else. Now, do you wanna tell me what happened?"

"It was, it was all because of that damn knife. I don't know why I even kept it in the first place, Will."

"You kept telling someone to let go of him and called someone a bastard. Who?"

"I- There was this kid. His dad was gonna kill him and put a gun to his head. I tried, but I couldn't, I couldn't..." Jay let out a strangled sob and wiped the tears that ran down his face.

Will started to run a hand up and down his back, something he learned long ago that soothed Jay after nights like these. "And the knife?"

"I used that to kill the boy's father. I should have just gotten rid of it when I had the chance."

"Jay, I'm sorry all of this got dug up."

"Yeah, me too. I'm not proud of the man I was back then. I thought I was over this."

"It's okay to fall apart sometimes."

Jay nodded, even though he hated when it happened because the bigger they are, the harder they fall. He bottles up all his emotions that when he finally falls apart, he explodes.

"I think Y/N would want to know you're okay," Will suggested.

You were still in the same position you had been in when Will left you when you heard footsteps approaching you and looked up. Jay's eyes were bloodshot and it was clear as day that he had been crying. You felt the couch dip as Jay sat next to you.

"I'm sorry," Jay said. Slowly, as if not to scare you, he wrapped an arm around your blanket-covered body.

"You scared me," you whispered.

"I know. Will told me. I'm so sorry." He scanned your face, making sure that Will wasn't lying to him when he had told him that he hadn't hit you. "I just need you to know that what you saw, that wasn't me, Y/N. It was my mind bringing me back to a very dark place. I would never, ever, ever knowingly scream at you like that or lay a hand on you."

"I know. You didn't even yell that bad with everything that happened at school today. But, it's all my fault."

"Y/N, look at me." You looked up, your eyes red-rimmed from all the crying. "None of this is your fault. Yes, seeing that knife triggered me. But, I could've just as easily seen it if the box fell over and the knife fell out."

You knew what he was getting at. He was trying to assure you that you and the knife were not what triggered him. It was the knife and the knife only.

"Can Will spend the night?" you asked, knowing that if it happened again, you wouldn't be alone when dealing with it.

"Of course. Now, go back to bed. You've got school tomorrow."

You nodded and stood up, knowing he was right. It was currently 3:30 in the morning and you had been up for an hour and a half and you needed to be awake by 6:00. And, you knew that you needed your focus to be razor sharp at school now that you didn't have any protection.

"Goodnight. I love you guys."

***

The weekend had come and gone and now it was Monday. As much as you hated Mondays, the ones before homecoming were becoming increasingly worse. Everything was fine until you had walked out of school, keys in hand.

"What the fuck?" you yelled as you were slammed into the side of your car, your cheek hitting the window hard.

Then, you felt a hand squeeze your butt. "Fifty points," he whispered in your ear.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt his hand reach for your keys. "Get the fuck away from her, Evans!"

Then, you felt him being ripped off of you, by none other than Jordan Atwater.

"Whatever," Derek Evans grumbled as he shrugged Jordan's hands off him. "I got fifty points and she just went from 200 to 250 for the rest of it." Then, he walked away and Jordan was quickly at your side.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you sniffled.

"Here, let me take you home, and then we can tell Kevin and Jay and they can come get your car."

"No! They can't know about this Jordan and you know that!"

"Y/N, he just did that forcibly and they just increased the point value for..." he trailed off, not wanting to say the disgusting words.

"Jordan, I'm fine. I can handle this."

"Fucking hell, Y/N. Do you know what I heard rumors about in the locker room?" You shook your head, not wanting to know at all, but knowing Jordan would tell you anyway. "He was planning on taking your keys so that you'd have to go with him. Some other guys were planning on following you home tomorrow."

"I can't- I don't know what to do, Jordan. It used to just be a stupid game, but now it's this and- fuck."

"I know, I know. Listen, how about I check on you after practice to make sure no one comes over?"

"Jay grounded me. I'll just get in more trouble if you come over."

"What'd you do?"

"Just something stupid," you answered. You knew that if you told him about the knife, he would most definitely tell Kevin.

He raised an eyebrow at you, but let your lie slide. "You're telling Jay tonight or so help me God, I am telling Kevin tomorrow before school."

"Can I just come over to your house?" you muttered.

Somehow, he heard you. "I thought you said Jay would be mad at you?"

"Then we can tell Kev and if Kev knows first, he can tell Jay because I don't want to be the one to tell him. He'll freak."

"Yeah. Tell you what? I'll pick you up at your house right after practice and then we can go to mine."

"Thanks for having my back, Jordan."

"Hey, that's what friends are for."

***

Jordan sucked in a breath as his phone dinged, alerting him that someone else had posted something on that stupid leaderboard for that stupid game.

"Aren't you gonna get that?" you asked as you sat next to him on the couch, assuming it was a text message notification.

"It's, uh, it's not important."

"If it's a text it's probably important."

Before Jordan even had time to react, you snatched the phone from the table in front of him. But, you quickly regretted your decision as your face paled and tears sprang to your eyes.

"Are they- are they all saying these things about me?" you asked, barely above a whisper as you handed Jordan his phone.

His eyes quickly skimmed the comment on the leaderboard in front of him and he sighed. "I mean, they've said some pretty horrible things, but this is up there with the most disgusting."

"What's most disgusting?" Kevin asked as he walked inside to see you two sitting on the couch, Jordan trying to keep his phone away from you despite you having already seen the comment. "Wait, aren't you grounded, Y/N?"

"Does Jay tell all my business to Intelligence?" you grumbled.

Kevin shrugged as he hung up his jacket. "Pretty much. But really, wat'cha doing here?"

You and Jordan shared a look that didn't go unnoticed by Kevin. "What's going on?"

***

"So you wanted to talk to me first so that I could help you break the news to Jay?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah," you mumbled, shocked by you hadn't broken down yet. It was probably just because you were scared to tell Jay, scared of how he would react to people who were doing this, and scared of how he would react to you not having told him until now.

"Let me call him. I think he still had to finish up some paperwork, so maybe he hasn't noticed that you're gone yet."

Kevin walked away to go talk to Jay in private and Jordan went to the kitchen to grab you both some water. Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your cheek, not doubting that there would be a bruise there tomorrow due to how hard Derek shoved you up against your car.

"Need some ice?" Kevin asked, having reentered.

"I'm fine," you quickly said, knowing that Jay and Will would be babying you about your face anyway.

"If you say so."

Jordan returned with the water and slid one to you. "Jay mad?" he asked his older brother.

"I mean, I told him Y/N was over here and that she has something to tell him and to not get mad at her."

"Great, that helps a lot," you replied sarcastically.

"I also told him we might have a case."

"Okay, so he knows it's bad then. I just don't wanna blow this out of proportion--"

"Girl, blow this outta proportion?" Jordan interrupted. "They're planning on assaulting you! I think you can blow this up however much you want!"

"I just don't wanna be the one to start this conversation," you admitted.

"We gotchu, girl, we gotchu," Kevin reassured you.

***

"You better have a good reason why you left the house-- without telling me I might add-- when you're grounded!" That was the first thing Jay yelled as Kevin let him into the house.

"Whoa, calm down, man. She's got a good reason to be here--"

"A good reason? A good reason being that she wanted to hang out with Jordan when I clearly stated that she was to come straight home after school!"

Roughly, he pulled a chair out from under the table to sit down across from you. You stayed staring at the wood of the table, not wanting to look him in the eye. "You have a good reason, Y/N?" he asked smugly. "Then look me in the eye and tell me that reason."

Jordan squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, which gave you the bit of confidence you needed to look your brother in the eyes. "I- there's these points and I was pushed and..." you ran your hands down your face in frustration, trying to stop your tears. "I can't do this."

"Is that a bruise forming on your cheek?" Jay asked as you removed your hands from your face, his eyes immediately softening. You nodded. "Care to elaborate?"

"A football player shoved me up against my car and then he- and then he grabbed my ass."

"Does this football player have a name?" he asked, looking to Jordan because he was on the football team.

"He does, but there's more and I'm gonna tell you that first because I don't think Y/N wants to."

"Thank you," you whispered to Jordan.

"So it's more than just a stupid kid playing grab-ass with my sister?" Jay asked, anger starting to seep out once more.

"There's point values attached to each grab," Jordan started. "Grab a girl, it's usually 50 points. Do some other things with her, there's more depending on what it is. Freshmen are strictly off-limits, so it's Y/N's first year dealing with it."

"How long has it been going on?"

"I think the game started totally five years ago. It happens for a month leading up to homecoming. Anyone on the varsity football team pays $10 to play, and whoever has the most points at the end of the month gets the money.

"And this year, they started a leaderboard online, where you can vote on doing different things. If it gets enough votes, it's up for grabs for points. And well, just take a look."

Jordan slid his open phone to Jay and he scrolled through the website, complete with a leaderboard. He looked at the most recent comments and scrolled to the beginning of the thread.

200 points if you can get the cop's sister to give you oral

Jay swallowed a lump in his throat as he read the title and continued to scroll.

100 for the actual act and another 100 if you get it on video

Deal

Definitely

Just don't get caught

She's small so it shouldn't be that hard

Think she had a crush on me last year, so this should be a piece of cake. Pay up boys

You're on, Evans

Then, he got to the comments after today's events had occurred.

Grabbed Halstead's ass in the parking lot and was so close to getting her keys, but Atwater stopped me. Buzzkill. It's gettin' close to hoco, so points for her are now up to 250

Eh, I'll just follow her home tomorrow and then get her before her brother gets home

Her lips will probably feel so good wrapped around me

Jay let out a shaky breath as he got to the end of the thread. "You're right, Kev. I think we might have a case on our hands. You wanna go home, Y/N?"

"I'm scared," you said as you looked up at your brother, tears streaming down your face. "What if they come to the house, Jay?"

"Y/N, I promise you that I will never, ever allow that to happen."

***

You were in the shower, but you could still make out the faint sound of Jay's voice. You didn't know who he was talking to, but you assumed it was either Will, Voight, or Hailey.

All the events of the past two weeks came down on you, crushing you like a ton of bricks. You knew this game was going to happen, but what you didn't know was that they going to do that 200, well now 250 points for you. At least, you hadn't known until Jordan told you and begged you to tell someone.

Since the start of this sick, twisted game, you made sure to wear something that always covered your butt, such as a long sweater or hoodie paired with jeans or leggings. But apparently, that didn't stop money-hungry and hormonal teenage boys.

The first time it happened, it was just a quick pinch when you were standing at your locker, nothing too alarming. Hell, you hadn't even known who it was. But then, once the 200 points were on the line, they started getting more and more aggressive, cornering you after lunch or after class, blocking you from exiting the locker bank.

You had heard the whispers of what Derek Evans planned to do, so you took matters into your own hands, hence stealing Jay's knife from the Rangers. People always said to go to the school, that they'd stop if enough people told. But, they never stopped. Girls had tried and tried last year, and nothing happened. Hell, you were so close to talking to the principal but were cornered right before walking into the main office, so you gave up. You figured you could just put up with it until it was over, despite how much anxiety simply going to school was now giving you.

You stepped out of the shower, dried off, and changed into your pajamas. Then, you glanced at yourself in the mirror: puffy and red eyes and cracked lips stared back at you. You hadn't even felt human since this thing started. You felt like a fucking object.

A fucking arcade game that told them that if they tried hard enough they'd win a damn prize.

The gut-wrenching sob that left your lips stopped Jay on his way to the kitchen. Jay made his way to the bathroom and knocked on the door, your sobs still ever-present.

"Y/N, can I come in? Please?" He asked quietly, using the voice he used when he had to talk to children on the job.

"I just wanna be a-alone right now J-Jay," you hiccupped.

Jay sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know I can't let you do that. It's not healthy." He didn't get a response, so he just stood outside the bathroom, hoping you'd exit sooner rather than later.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. And your breathing just got shallower and shallower. "Are you dressed?" he asked.

It took you a moment, but somehow you managed to tell him that you were.

Your vision was starting to go blurry and your feet and fingers were starting to go numb. The sides of your head were pounding so much that you thought it was going to explode.

Jay took a paperclip and unfolded it, then pressed it into the knob until a click was heard. The door was heavier than he had expected, alerting him that you were slumped against it. You felt yourself being pushed forward, but at this point, you didn't even care since you were too focused on not passing out. But, if you did pass out you figured, at least your mind wouldn't wander to all the recent events.

"Y/N, Y/N, open those eyes for me, okay? Just look at me. Focus on me," Jay urged you after he had squeezed himself through the door and was now crouching down in front of you.

"C-Can't-- Open eyes-- hurts," you said through shallow and fast breaths.

"Okay. I'm gonna squeeze your hand. Just focus on the touch and try and follow my breathing."

"What-- if I-- pass-- out?"

"I won't let that happen. Now in, out, in, out. Good. Now I'm gonna add a second. In, out, in, out..."

You continued to focus on Jay's voice as you slowly but surely started to regain feeling in your feet and fingers.

"Can you open your eyes for me?" Jay asked, once your breathing had returned to a semi-normal state for a few cycles. Slowly, you opened your eyes but quickly closed them. "Head still hurt?"

"Yeah."

"That'll happen when not enough oxygen gets to the brain. You can even ask Will to fact check me." You heard the doorbell ring. "Speaking of Will..."

"You didn't."

"But I did. He brought food, too."

"Jay? Y/N? You here?" you heard Will yell from down the hallway after he entered the house.

"Bathroom!" Jay replied, causing you to wince due to how close he was to your ear. "Sorry."

"What the hell happened?" Will asked as he rushed to crouch down in front of you, going into doctor mode when he saw your eyes were clenched shut. There was a pause as Jay mouthed panic attack to his older brother. "Okay, well I'm gonna go get you some water, hopefully that'll make your head stop hurting and then I'll check out that cheek of yours."

"Do you have to?" you whined.

"Kid, one day you'll thank me for this."

"I doubt it," you mumbled.

Will came back with a glass of water and slid it into your hand, making sure that your hand was firmly wrapped around it before letting go. After waiting about a minute after you'd finished the water, you opened your eyes.

"Better?" Will asked.

"Better," you confirmed. "Thanks."

"That's what big brothers are for."

"So that means you don't have to go all doctor on me?"

"Ha, that was funny. Now, sit on the counter so I can take a look."

You pushed yourself off the floor and then onto the counter, Jay standing up after you to stand next to Will. Great, now you had two worried older brothers both looking at the same thing. At least they weren't both doctors.

"Damn, it's already bruising," Jay said as he looked on.

Will hand gently touched your cheek. "Tell me if anywhere hurts." He touched from your jaw up to your cheek bone, but the only place you told him that hurt was between the two and a bit at the bottom of your cheek bone.

"You're lucky," Will started, "You hit it just a bit higher I might have to take you in for x-rays to make sure you didn't bruise or fracture your cheek bone."

"No hospital?" you asked hopefully.

"No hospital," Will confirmed. "Just lots of ice."

"Come on, let's go get that food Will brought before it gets too cold...and the beer for me and him gets warm."

***

You walked into Intelligence with Jay the next morning, trying to think of anything but the worried looks you were getting. "It's okay to be scared," Jay told you, giving your shoulder a squeeze. "And, I'll be there the whole time."

"Do you have to?" you asked him.

"Because you're a minor and I'm your legal guardian, they can't talk to you unless I'm there. So, yes, I have to be with you."

"Hailey," Voight's raspy voice carried through the bullpen. "You go talk to Y/N. Ruzek, go talk to Jordan."

"Jordan's here?" you asked, looking up at Jay.

"Yeah. Kevin wanted him to give a statement, too. Said he can attest to all the stuff that was said in the locker room."

"Oh." You didn't want to think about the things that were said. If you thought what they were posting was bad, what they talked about in the locker room you knew would be ten times worse.

You followed Hailey into the breakroom. Despite being here dozens of times before, it felt odd to you this time, eerie, as it was waiting to gobble up your deepest and darkest secrets and fears and share them with the world.

Hailey sat across from you and Jay sat next to you. "Jay, I need you to read this over and sign it since Y/N's a minor." She slid two pieces of paper over to him and he glanced at them and quickly scribbled his signature.

Hailey gave him a look that said you're not gonna read it? "I've told parents what this says before. I know the drill." Hailey nodded and took the papers from him.

"Start from the beginning, Y/N. What happened with Derek Evans?" Hailey prompted.

"I have a question." Here goes nothing. Hailey nodded at you to continue while Jay furrowed his eyebrows. He had been over how this was going to work with you before you even stepped out of the house this morning to try and ease your nerves. "Does it matter?"

"Does what matter? What he did to you? Of course, it does," Hailey answered.

"No, sorry. That came out wrong. "Does it matter that I had a crush on him last year...and kinda into this year." The crush only lasted two months into this school year though, when you found out he had cheated on his current girlfriend. But last year, oh last year your crush was in full swing and you took every opportunity you could to talk to the then junior, and there was no fooling anyone in that school that you had been head over heels for him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not following," Hailey apologized.

"Since I had a crush on him and he knew it, couldn't he take that as I wanted this?"

"No. It's only consent if both parties agreed to it."

"But maybe me having a crush on him would make him think that."

Now, it was Jay's turn to speak. "Did you take health class yet?"

"No, I take it next semester. Why?"

"The teacher will talk about consent there, but I guess we're doing it now." He looked at Hailey to make sure this was okay and she nodded at him to continue. "What do you think has to happen for someone to not consent?"

"One of them has to say no or stop."

"Is that the only way to be sure?"

"I mean, I guess."

"See, that's where you're wrong. It's not consent if you slap his hand away. It's not consent if you're too drunk to say yes. Same for drugs. It's not consent if you're coerced into it. And, consent can be revoked at any time. Any time. To keep it simple for you to remember right now, it's only consent if you and him both said yes to this. And, I know you didn't say yes to what happened to you and what they were threatening to do to you."

"So, even though I didn't say stop or no right away when he pushed me up against my car and grabbed me, I still wasn't consenting?" you asked.

"No," Hailey answered. "Did he ask to grab your butt?"

"No."

"Therefore, there was no consent involved."

There was a knock on the door and Hailey got up to answer it. "Halstead, a word," Voight ordered, motioning for him to follow.

Jay glanced at you. "Hey, don't worry, kid. Everything will work out one way or another."

Jay followed Voight into his office and closed the door. "What's up, Sarge?"

"The kid who grabbed your sister, well he's 18, Jay. Just turned 18 last month."

"So, we can press more charges?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Since all we have are threats and Y/N's and Jordan's word against his, most we can do is forcible touching. If he had acted on the threat, then that'd be a different story."

"So, you're saying that she had to be forced to have oral sex with this ass to press more charges? The threats aren't enough? Even though we clearly have proof of the threats from that goddamn leaderboard."

"I know it's not ideal--"

Jay threw his hands up. "Ideal? It's ridiculous!"

Voight was about to say something, but was stopped by a knock on his office door. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Boss, we got a problem," Ruzek said as he entered.

"What type of problem?"

"The Evans kid? Yeah, well his dad's the president of the school board."

"You're kidding."

"Wish I was, Boss."

"Jay, go see if Y/N knew about this. The rest of us are gonna figure out how to proceed with this new information."

Jay was about to enter the breakroom, when his phone buzzed. It was Will.

Any news? the text read.

Other than the fact that the Evans kid's dad is the president of the school board and we only have enough to get him on forcible touching, no nothing new.

Jay didn't even think about the fact that he was sharing information about an open investigation. To him, this was just him talking to his brother about the case that involved his sister.

Jay held down the power button to turn his phone off and then walked back into the breakroom. "Anything?" Hailey asked.

"Uh, yeah. But let's finish interviewing Y/N first. I know we had to stop since I left."

Jay sat back down next to you and Hailey started questioning you once again.

"Did you know that this game was going to happen?" Hailey asked.

"Yeah, that's why I started wearing long sweaters and hoodies, to try and cover up my butt."

"Okay, and when it start to turn into more than grabs?"

"Um, one day Jordan called me after school and he told me that Derek was planning to get me to..." you trailed off, not wanting to say it.

"I know you think it's disgusting to say, Y/N, but I need you to say what he said to you."

You looked up at Jay, feeling like a five-year-old who was about to say a swear word. "It's okay. We won't laugh or get mad."

"He uh, Jordan told me that Derek was going to get me to give him a blowjob...even if he had to force me to do it."

A few tears ran down your face. Even though your brother was a cop, telling the actual cops in an actual statement made it that much more real.

"Do you want a break? Some water maybe?" Hailey asked.

"No, I'm fine. I just wanna get this over with."

"Okay. Did anyone try and tell the principal? Any teachers? Other adults?"

"Girls tried, they really did. They told Mr. White, the principal, but he said that they didn't have any proof. And, he also said that they were football players and that some of them had shots at scholarships for D1 schools. Why would we want to wreck that for them, is what he had asked us. And, Derek's dad is on the school board, so we knew that even if it went further than the principal and to the superintendent or school board, that nothing would happen.

"I was gonna try to tell Mr. White once, but I was cornered before I got into the main office, so I was scared."

You turned to Jay now. "I'm sorry. I should've told you when this all started but I didn't want to get made fun of or have more things happen at school because what if they canceled football and it was all my fault and--"

"You need to remember that you did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing, you hear me?" you nodded. "And what White did, basically saying that boys will be boys, that makes me sick. And if I had a way to arrest him, I would."

"Thanks, Jay."

A comfortable silence fell over you before you explained everything else, like Derek shoving you against your car and forcibly grabbing your ass. You also explained how Jordan had said that he was planning on taking your keys so you'd have to have oral with him to get them back and how other players were planning on following you home.

After that, you were out in the bullpen, when Trudy Platt came up the stairs. "Hank, Halstead, I need you to go this address."

Platt handed Voight a piece of paper, which you're assuming had the address on it. "Why? This doesn't have to do with our case. Couldn't patrol do it?"

"I don't think Halstead would be pleased if I put his brother in lockup, so I figured I'd have you two go check it out," she answered.

"What did Will do?" you piped up before Jay could.

"Let's just say him and Derek Evans each got a few punches in," Trudy answered. "I thought you two could be the ones to go down and get him."

"Thanks, Trudy," Voight said as he started to walk downstairs. But, he stopped when he noticed that Jay wasn't following.

"Uh, Hailey," Jay called. "Could you maybe take Y/N to Will's house while I do this? I just don't want her at home in case they somehow got our address."

"Yeah, no problem," Hailey answered, taking the spare key Jay handed her.

You four walked down the stairs and then each headed your separate ways. Once Jay and Voight were in the car, Voight turned to him. "Care to tell me how Will found the name and address?"

"Sarge, I have absolutely no idea." And then he remembered the text he sent. "Oh, oh shit. Listen, it was an accident. He asked me if we had any new information, and I told him that Derek was 18 and he must've just went from that. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. To me, this isn't just an investigation, it's an investigation that involves my sister and I was just giving information to my brother without thinking about the legal ramifications."

"I get it, Jay. I did the same thing with Justin."

"Are we really arresting him?"

"No, but we are gonna have a chat with Derek and his father."

***

"I want to press charges!" Derek Evans' dad yelled when Jay and Hank rolled up to the scene. "This man assaulted my son!"

"Yeah? Well, your son assaulted my sister, so I think it's even!" Will spat back.

"Let's just take a moment to talk this out," Voight said, stepping between the two.

"I won't talk until you put this man in handcuffs!"

Voight turned and nodded at Jay. "Sarge, you can't be--"

"I am serious, Jay. Now do it and bring him to the car. Now."

Jay gritted his teeth and put Will's hands behind his back. "You have the right to right to remain silent. If you give up this right, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. If you do not have the money to afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been told to you?" Jay recited as he led Will to the car.

"Yes. Jay, what are you--"

"Just go with it," Jay hissed in his ear, causing his older brother to shut up.

Jay put Will in the back of the car and then got in the passenger seat. "Now, in a second I'm going to take these off and then I'm gonna go inside and talk to them with Voight. Do not, under any circumstances, get out of the car. You understand me?"

"Yeah, now can you get these off me? You put 'em on real tight, Jay."

Jay smirked as he took Will out of the car and undid his cuffs. "Payback for all the times you poked me with a needle." Then, he looked at Will's face. "Looks like the kid got a few good punches on you. There's gonna be a real nice shiner there," he joked.

"Shut up and go finish your job." Will rolled his eyes as Jay put the cuffs back in his pocket and left Will in the car.

When Jay walked into the Evans' residence he saw Derek, Derek's dad, and Hank all sitting down at the kitchen table. "Now, we know that your son has threatened to force himself on a girl at school, so this can go one of two ways," Voight started as Jay stood behind him. "We can either contact the media and tell them all about this little game he and his teammates like to play, but that he took a step too far, which would ensure he doesn't get into a good college. Or, you could transfer him out of his current high school and to a new one and this doesn't get out to the press. Your choice."

"You don't have enough to charge him, so why would I pull my son out of school his senior year?"

"Because, once word gets out, well no college wants a guy with a history of sexual assault on their football team. It sets a bad image."

"It's not like I even did anything!" Derek protested, while still trying to hold the ice pack to his lip that Will had busted open.

"Oh, didn't do anything? Let me enlighten you. You got the pictures, Sarge?" Jay asked.

"Got 'em right here."

Voight laid all the pictures of the leaderboard and the messages about you on the table. "The girl who Derek said he wanted to get oral sex from? That guy in the back of our car right now is her brother. Now, do you understand why the fight broke out, Mr. Evans?"

Derek's dad looked back and forth between the pictures and his son, trying to figure out how his son could do this. "Derek, did you say these things?"

"Oh, he did more than say. He slammed the girl up against her car and forcibly grabbed her backside," Jay said, not wanting to admit he was your brother or else there would be a conflict of interest in this encounter. And, even though Derek knew, Jay was the one with a gun so he figured the best idea would be to not piss him off.

Voight laid the picture of your bruised cheek on the table. "This is what happened because of that. She's lucky she didn't break her cheekbone."

"I'm- I'm sorry," Derek finally spoke up. "It was just supposed to be a fun game that we bet some money on who could get the most points."

"A game? A game is football. This is bordering on assault. We are far from a game," Jay told him.

"So, what's it gonna be? Take Derek out of school and transfer him or do I call the media? You have five seconds," Voight told him, pulling out his phone to silently tell them that he wasn't bluffing.

Derek's eyes widened. "I'll transfer! I'll transfer!"

"Derek, we need time to think about this--"

"No, Dad, I need a shot at a scholarship to go D1."

"Then it's settled. Thank you for your time."

Jay and Voight left the house and went back to the car. "What's the verdict?" Will asked.

"He's transferring schools," Voight answered and handed the folder of evidence photos to Jay.

"Why are you giving these to me?"

Voight shrugged. "Do with them what you want, Halstead. I wouldn't blame you, no one would."

***

"Hailey, can you give me and Y/N a second?" Jay asked as you entered you house and shrugged off your coats.

"Of course."

"You can stay out here. We'll talk in Y/N's room," Jay said.

You walked down the hall and went into your room and sat on your bed. "So, what's up? Did you arrest Derek?"

"Unfortunately, we didn't have enough evidence to do that."

You looked down at your hands. "But then it's just gonna keep happening, Jay. I don't wanna go back there."

"Back where?" he asked, sitting next to you.

"To school, it'll just be worse."

"Hey, no it won't because he's transferring schools."

"But the other boys will just keep doing it, Jay. I'm terrified."

"Hey, hey look at me." You looked up at Jay, trying to stop yourself from crying. "That will not happen, I can promise you that."

"But you don't know that."

"Just trust me on this one."

"Okay," you whispered.

"And one more thing," Jay started. "If it didn't already go without saying, you're ungrounded because I'm assuming you brought that knife to school to use in case anything happened. And, with what happened yesterday, I can't say I blame you."

"Thanks, I figured as much."

"Now, next time you need something for self-defense, we're just gonna get you some pepper spray."

"Good idea."

"Let's go back out to Hailey and you two can look at Pinterest or whatever for dresses or whatever it is girls do with that stuff."

***

The next morning, you woke up to message after message about school. There were links sent you entitled Football Player Assaults Girl Outside of School Because of a Bet and Principal of a Chicago High School Resigns Because of Complaints from Girls about the Football Team Sexually Harassing Them, but He Didn't do Anything about It.

You could not believe it. Just 48 hours ago you were freaking out about having to go to school for fear of a guy grabbing you or doing something worse. And now, you could go to school and feel comfortable. And, those boys wouldn't do anything else and if something did happen, you'd be able to tell the assistant principal--who was now acting principal--about what was happening and have something actually be done about it.

"Jay!" you yelled as you ran into the kitchen, almost bumping into him.

"Whoa, slow down! I almost spilled hot coffee on you!" he laughed as he set his mug down on the table and turned back to you.

"Sorry, sorry. Have you seen this? Someone leaked the leaderboard and now Mr. White resigned! I'll actually be able to focus in class now!" You slid the phone to him and he looked at the titles in the notifications. "I just wonder who did it."

"Told you I'd handle it." Then, he took a sip of his coffee.

"Oh my God, you were the one who leaked it?" Your eyes almost popped out of your head. Couldn't that get him in trouble?

"I never said that."

"You just sipped your coffee like that Kermit and the sips tea meme, so yeah, I think you did," you playfully argued.

"Well, technically, it wasn't me. I just passed on a copy of the pictures to a CI of mine, whose cousin happens to work for the Chicago Sun-Times."

"Bye-bye college football for all these assholes."

"And the city's a safer place because of it."

"Hey, what do I always say: Go save Chicago."

"Team effort. And this time, Y/N, you got to play a part in that team."

A/N: I know it's been almost a month since I've posted an imagine, but school is busy and I'm writing long imagines, which usually take me a week to write, so that's why. Oh, and happy Valentine's Day (bc that's in like 2 days). Go cuddle with your boyfriend/girlfriend if you have one. Or, if you're single (like me) go read some cute fluffy fanfiction and eat all the chocolate!

#writing #imagine #jay halstead #will halstead #chicago pd #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead imagine #will halstead imagine #Halstead Bros #halstead brothers #halstead sister #halstead sister imagine #one shot #study-coffee-chicago

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lovely-keii · 3 years

Note

Hello, please may i request Tsukishima x reader, enemies to lovers, except they weren’t enemies, they just had banter and teasing that everyone else mistook for enemie-ness, they actually got on quite well. I thought it’d be funny lol 🥰 luv u btw

Boyfriend

Summary: A time where Tsukishima takes it upon himself to help you out until the end of the night or the entire duration of the party, whichever comes first. And so, the blonde proclaims himself your boyfriend, for just a night, at least.

You stand by the drinks, twirling the wine glass filled with sickeningly over-sweetened fruit punch in your hands. If it weren’t for your friend, you wouldn’t even be at this party. You sigh for what seemed to be the fifteenth time that hour, the horrible music giving you one hell of a migraine. You look up to see none other than Tsukishima Kei making his way over.

“You have literally no idea how glad I am that you’re here.”

He looks at you skeptically. “Why?”

“This party isn’t half as fun as I hoped it’d be and you’re always a great form of entertainment.”

He sighs, feigning annoyance. “You’re stupid sometimes, know that?”

“See what I mean? You’re so fun to agitate!” Tsukishima rolls his eyes, before walking away wordlessly. At first, you’re worried you might have legitimately upset him, but the sight of him walking over to Daichi, who was beckoning him over relieved you of that thought. You look down at the drink in your hands, before resigning yourself to your fate: a night of complete boredom and basic-ness, despite the annoyingly loud music blasting.

You take a sip of your drink, when you feel a weight fall onto you. Someone had bumped into you, just as you were drinking a stainingly red drink. Fortunately, your hand tilted to the side, away from your dress, spilling on the floor and not your dress. “How convenient.” You roll your eyes, mood souring by the thought of a perfectly good cup of diabetes wasted.

You turn to look at the moron that had bumped into you. He wasn’t attractive, at least not to the level you’d gotten used to after being surrounded by unexplainably handsome guys, see: the karasuno boys. He grins and places a hand on your shoulder. If he wasn’t branded in your memory because of just hot average he is, you definitely did now, with how creepy he felt to be around and the putrid smell of alcohol.

God save you, because if things seemed unable to get worse, the man was half drunk. The stench was beyond horrid; something similar to the cross of not showering for a decade and cheap alcohol in cans you get for free at the gas station if you buy enough bags of chips. Hell, you’ve been around animal manure for biology project, and it still smelled better than him. Simply put, he was terrorizing your sensory nerves.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Uh who’re you?” the guy slurs, squinting his eyes in a lousy attempt to assert the little to no dominance he actually has.

“I’m her uh..frien-, no, boyfriend,” Tsukishima trips over his words, something he doesn’t usually do, considering he doesn’t usually talk either, but with a lot more conviction, he repeats, “I’m her boyfriend.” Since tsukishima is effortlessly domineering, his presence does well enough to shoo the half-drunk guy.

“Thanks, but you do a horrible impression of my boyfriend.”

“The thanks was good enough, that last bit was definitely unnecessary” You turn to refill your cup, to which Tsukishima gives you a look of disgust. “You like that nasty shit?” You laugh at his vulgarity, so early into the night. “What do you expect me to drink? Water? I’d rather die of the impossibly high amounts of glucose this is going to give me, than I’d rather drink plain, boring water at a party playing the same song for the sixteenth time in just this one hour.”

“The music is disgusting too. I’ve never been this upset over someone’s music choices.”

“You really hate it here, huh. Can’t blame you though, if it wasn’t for my friends I’d go straight home.” He nods, grabbing a bottle of water and takes a large drink of it. “This place is just so bad, it’s kinda good,” you offer him.

“Good is too much of a stretch. It’s interesting at most.”

And so the cycle repeats, someone who reeks of health-threatening amounts of alcohol comes and tries to hit on you, Tsukishima makes up some bullshit about how he’s your boyfriend, and the both of you bitch about how boring the party is. A pretty fine cycle, if you ask Tsukishima, although he’s also tell you that him spending o much time with you was a one-time thing, specially reserved for parties who are just that boring.

You gotta hand it to him, he’s a great liar, if it weren’t for the fact that he spends hours on end bantering with you on a daily.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hinata looks like he’s seen a ghost, face pale and all of that pizazz. “Am I going crazy or is Y/N and Tsukishima over there.” The first year took a glance at the both of your figures and gaped in shock. “It’s not just you, I see it too,” Yamaguchi confirmed, completely stunned. Kageyama on the other hand was more confused than surprised, “I thought they hated each other.”

Sugawara walked past at that moment, overhearing the short conversation, and laughing lightly. “It’s like you and Hinata, right? You two don’t hate each other but you act like you’re going to eat each other alive.” Yamaguchi chuckles at that, to which the two boys pointedly look at him. “Do I really look like I wanna eat Hinata?”

“Kageyama doesn’t even look like he’ll taste good.”

“Whatever, I’m sure I’d taste better than you anyways.”

“It’s probably a metaphor, guys. I don’t think Suga-senpai meant that literally.”

“Shhh, Yamaguchi. Let them fight, it’ll at least be something to keep us occupied, this party is boring. Oh bright, did you know that Tsukki and Y/N are dating?”

“What?”

“What?” The three boys look at Sugawara who merely laughs and saunters away.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You walk to school the next day. As soon as you sit on your seat, Yamaguchi, who sits next to you shoots you a pitying look. “Tsukki’s upset about something, maybe try not to pester him too much today? He looks like he wants to attack anyone he sees.” You nod, taking note of how Tsukishima’s usual vibe was much more hostile.

You decided to take Yamaguchi’s word for it and cut Tsukishima some of your usual teasing, especially with all the extra glares he seems to be giving away without a care. You stand in front of your desk, finishing some papers to pass to your teacher. You’re minding your own business, when you hear a stern voice from behind you. “Move.” You immediately notice that it was Tsukishima’s voice. Lo and behold, he’s looking at you as if you’d ruined his life.

“What’s up your ass today, Tsukki?”

“Stop calling me that.” He walks past you wordlessly, rolling his eyes. You take a step back reflexively, clearly dampening your mood. “What an asshole.”

Later on that day, he corners you. “I need you to tell the team that we’re not dating.”

“Why?”

“They think we’re dating.”

“Sure, but would that be such a bad thing?”

“Yes, now go tell them.” Ouch. The way he seemed so repulsed by the thought of dating you legitimately hurt, and the fact that not even a night ago, loving him seemed so real, just rubs salt in the wound. You walk over to the gym, following his steps, silent. Tsukishima takes mental note of how quiet you usually are compared to how you are around him normally. He brushes it off as nothing, just you lost in your thoughts.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“So you guys…aren’t together?” Sugawara asks, confused. You nod in confirmation. “Last night was just to help me out since a bunch of crunk guys were being creepy.” Sugawara nods, and the rest of the team smile bashfully. “Sorry for misunderstanding you two then,” Sugawara apologizes, and continues to set up the net.

“Why’d you guy think I’d date her anyway? She’s stupid.” It was clear he was joking, but at the moment you weren’t so sure anymore. Yamaguchi sends you a stiff smile, knowing full well you liked Tsukishima.

“I am not stupid.” He rolls his eyes teasingly, and beckons you out the gym. You smile, which seems to be 19 times harder now that Tsukishima’s decided to really push all your buttons, and go your own way, satisfied with sitting on the bleachers, where you’ll wait until practice is finished. After which, Tsukishima silently walks you home.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

On the way home, you’re quiet. You’re not sure why, yourself, but Tsukishima has to have noticed. At least a part if you hopes he does. Tsukishima stops in his tracks, turning to look at you.

“Why are you being such a mess today?” Tsukishima asks, just hitting all your sore spots as if it was nothing.

“What?” You smile resignedly again, ticking him off even more.

“See? Whenever I try to talk to you you just nod or shake your head and stay silent, and when I ask you about it, you play dumb and smile.” He looks you pointedly in the eye, and you’re aware you can’t play it off. It’s just the way Tsukishima is, painfully blunt and unnervingly observant. Your brows furrow and you sigh, “can we just walk home, Kei?”

“No, not until you tell me why you’re being, in lack of a better word, a bitch.” He glares at you, and at this point, you are fed up with him and his stupid attitude.

It’s always him and what he wants. He never seems to care. Well, fuck the guy and his arrogant, blonde ass.

“Don’t you get it, Kei? I’m always being a stupid mess around you because I like you! I like you in 15 different ways, and all of them make me feel insane! I want to hold you, love you, make out with you, spend time with you, all at the same time every second I’m awake and it’s been a mess!”

And just like that his lips crash onto yours, effectively shutting you up. “Why did you, I mean not that I’m complaining of course, I mean-, what-”

“You did say you wanted to make out with me,” he throws out, right before smirking and walking away. He places his headset on while you’re sputtering, all flustered. You quickly snap out of the hazy daze you’re in and chase after the guy, who, with how long his legs were, was a comparable distance away from you now. “Come back, Tsukishima! You can’t just leave after doing that!”

1K EVENT

#☾.viv’s tropes #☾.viv’s 1k event #♡ noctuaryfahy + viv ♡#tw alcohol #tw: alcohol #tw; alcohol #tsukishima x reader

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vicious-vixxxen · 3 years

Note

DRABBLE BURST TIME: Ceo Shouto (or Aizawa dont mind either way) with a taller, and bratty male secretary who’s been teasing him all day :)

((Love love LOVE this, and I’ve yet to write for Shoto, so hope you enjoy ;3 also totally got out of hand, does this even count as a drabble lol)) Shoto Todoroki X Bratty Male!Reader

“Holy /shit/, Midoriya-San, you’re getting absolutely stacked!” You practically squealed, grinning from ear to ear as the greenette did his best to make himself look smaller- which was no easy feat, seeing as how he was well passed 6’4, rivaling you be three inches, and over two hundred pounds of pure, raw muscle. It wasn’t every day you got to see the Number 1 hero, as he usually took his conference calls with Todoroki...well, over a call. As the title suggested. Duh. But when he came in it was always a treat, because try as he might to feign embarrassment, he never once rebuffed your advances to fawn over him. Blush a deep crimson high on his cheeks, delving deep into the collar of his hero suit as you moved /too/ close, and touched a little /too/ much. Over his arms, and his shoulders. All too aware of the eyes boring into your back all of the sudden. “That’s quite enough, Y/N,” Shoto drawled from behind you, ever the warm facade of impassiveness. You’d worked for the man for nearly two years now, and you could always tell when it was put upon, or when he was well and truly bored and everything, and passive was just the resting mood to get him through the day. “It’s good to see you, Midoriya,” Shoto smiled, soft, and kind- bringing Deku into a hug- eyes ablaze, and never leaving yours, as you snickered at the way he had to step on his tiptoes to properly hug his old friend, and colleague. “I was just telling Midoriya here that if he isn’t careful, he’s going to get someone pregnant with just a flex of those biceps. And I swear he’s grown two inches since last I saw him! Hasn’t he?” You asked cheekily, before sizing Shoto up, and grinning devilishly. “Though I suppose to someone of your stature it doesn’t make much of a difference.” Midoriya tensed, gawking at you, looking between Shoto’s steadfast impassive expression, and your smirk. “Only joking, of course, Todoroki-San. I’ll leave you and Mr. Midoriya to it then, and I’ll call up a bottle of champagne like last time. Just don’t go getting sauced on me again, Midoriya-san, or i’ll have to cart you home myself.” You beamed, winking at Midoriya for good measure, before shooing he and Shoto back into the CEO’s office. But not before Shoto caught you by the wrist, and tugged you down to his height, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Thin. Ice.” He whispered heatedly, face never revealing it however, as he let go and readjusted your cufflink. “Is that supposed to be a pun?” You whispered after him, laughing at how the man’s shoulders tensed just before the door slammed shut. You could never get enough of his temper.

Todoroki’s meeting with Midoriya ran much longer than it ever had before. By the time the hero walked out, excusing himself quickly to get a jumpstart on his nightly patrol, most of the agency had already cleared out for the evening. Save for a few stragglers on the lower levels, but seeing as how you worked at the very top, it was just you. And Shoto. Not the first time, and not the first time it’s been done so purposefully. Clever man.

“Y/N? Would you come in here for a moment, please.” Shoto called out, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. A heat curling in your gut, as you logged out of your computer, tidied up your space, and headed into the man’s office. Eye’s immediately falling on Shoto, standing at the front of his desk, leaned back with a glass of champagne still in hand. Though it was almost empty. Shutting the door behind yourself, you crossed your hands behind your back innocently, tilting your head to the side. Curious. “You think this is a game? That this is funny?” Shoto asked seriously, and you simply feigned innocence- brows drawn down low, as you closed a few more feet between the two of you slowly. Not missing the way Shoto’s eyes raked your body once, then twice, a soft, yet audible gulp heard from his side of the room. “I must admit to having no idea what you could possibly be talking about, sir,” You offered quietly, taking another step. Then another. And another, “I should’ve fired you a long time ago, constantly pulling stunts like that. How do you think it reflects on me, hm? Having an insatiable fanboy at my front desk, as my secretary. Fawning over every male hero who walks through that door.” Shoto sounded upset, though you knew the real reason why. It always worked him up, you doing what you did. But that was part of your fun together. Part of what made /this/, so exciting. “I think,” You began slowly, closing the last of the few feet between you and your boss slowly, looking down on the shorter man now, with a hum in your throat. Reaching off beside him to grab the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket it sat in. Swishing it around carefully, judging it’s contents, before smirking. “-you should try and reel in some of that jealousy. It’s bad for your business.” You’d never been able to help that- teasing him. Taking a swig from the bottle with a sharp hiss at the carbonation. Smacking your lips together, as Shoto stood at his full height finally- still a whole head shorter than you. A blush, no doubt from the alcohol, coloring his cheeks, just barely. “You’re a brat,” He hissed up at you, rough, sure hands clawing at your hips, to bring your fronts flush together. Flicking his hair from his eyes, exposing both beautiful irises to you. “But i’m your brat. Not theirs. Don’t forget that,” You reminded him softly, taking another swig from the champagne bottle. Setting it aside, and cupping his cheek with the same hand- brushing your thumb over the man’s scar carefully, before coaxing his lips open, and sealing yours to them. Letting the rush of champagne flow from your mouth to Shoto’s. Waiting for him to swallow, before kissing him. Eating up the soft, needy sounds he let loose. Always so put together, so strong. But when it was just the two of you, like this, Shoto could finally relax. Barely flinching as you lifted the man onto his desk, and slotted your hips together. Chuckling darkly at the hitched, breathy moan Shoto released as your cocks dragged together deliciously, even through the fabric of your slacks. “Mine,” Shoto breathed, statement and assurance and agreement all wrapped into one, as you ravished the man’s collar in bites, and kisses. Careful not to leave any marks that wouldn’t fade overnight, as you worked on undoing his pants, and yours. “Mine,” You echoed, or growled, really, as you took both you and Shoto in hand- biting your lip as you realized how wet the man was already. Precum from Shoto’s cock enough to slick the both of you up deliciously as you stroked. ((Ending it there just to tease sksksks and to make it more drabble sized-ish, cuz I could go on forever, I LOVE size difference, any way you spin it, so this is just...ugh. Hope you like it!))

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #shoto todoroki x male reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki x male reader #todoroki x reader

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

guilty | knj x reader | final chapter: is something burning?

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, SMUT WARNINGS APPLY in this chapter sorry i’m yelling stressed!joon, sweaty!joon, sober!joon all make an appearance

rating: 18+

word count: 7.9K

notes: okay, so i stressed a bit about this chapter. i got really in my head over it, but i hope it ends in a way that’s satisfying to all of you guys. i’ve heard from some of the most amazing readers about this story -- i appreciate you all so much and i’d love to hear from you about how you feel about the ending.

special love to the best beta hands down periodt amen @hobi-gif, the lady who inspired it all with her adorable brand of namjoon thirst @sahmfanficbts, and three people who mean the world to me point blank period @ladyartemesia @ppersonna @taetaewonderland

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

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

There’s this thing that happens when you’re getting over a cold.

Slowly -- as your breathing returns to normal -- you can taste again. Your head clears and your senses come back to life and you savor everything you eat like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had. Your appetite returns.

And all at once, you are starving.

That’s what it’s like after Namjoon touches you.

All he had to do was cup your face in one large, warm hand and it feels like your entire body has been jump-started. Like parts of you that have been dormant for years are now awake, nerve endings exposed and aching. Like all the tiny pieces of you that have been scattered and lost for so long are now found and fitting back together.

For the first time in a long time you remember what it feels like to want.

It’s not like you didn’t know you cared for Namjoon. You knew it deep down in the way you took pride in providing for his needs. You knew it in the way it made you feel to see appreciation reflected back in his dark eyes.

But you didn’t understand how much you wanted him until that night in his office.

In those few charged moments, Namjoon made you feel more desired with his gaze than other men have with their hands. You let down your guard and allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to touch him, to be touched by him. You let yourself embrace the fantasy of being his in every way.

And then it was over.

Whatever spell he was under was broken and whatever existed in the air between you evaporated. The hunger in his eyes turned into remorse and you’d left his office on trembling legs, reeling from the whiplash of it all.

Today, you stare out at the window across from your desk, unable to suppress the hurt that grips your chest. You can barely concentrate on the numbers on the sheet in front of you, mind replaying the events in that office.

Namjoon should never have touched you.

He should never have roused the parts of you that had been long forgotten between doctors visits and pharmacy runs. He should never have made you feel things no other man ever has or probably ever will.

And he should have never let you believe, even for one second, that he could care for you the way you do for him.

He should have just left you alone.

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

No one ever tells you that when you devote your life to caring for someone else’s needs, yours end up falling by the wayside. That who you are ends up diminished somehow, buried underneath the weight of responsibility and worry.

Jinjoo finds you sitting in the chair next to your mother’s bed, staring at one lock of hair threaded through your fingers. You’re frowning at the split ends you’ve not had a chance to tend to, the ones you hide by keeping your hair pulled back.

She sweeps into the room, carrying a bowl of kimchi.

“It’s Saturday. The sun is shining and you should go out. Maybe to the salon, hmm?”

You glance up just as she’s placing the food on a tray at the foot of your mother’s bed. She smiles to soften the blow of her observation and you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at her well-meaning meddling. It’s nice to be fussed over for a change.

“I can’t even remember the last time I went to the salon,” you admit, eyes locking on an unsightly chip in your nail polish. “I usually end up cutting it myself.”

“Well, that won’t do,” Jinjoo scolds, hands on hips. “Today I want you to go out and do something just for you. Go and get the works. You’re far too young to be stuck in this house all the time.”

You consider her offer for a moment. Here in the quiet of your mother’s room it’s far too easy to let your mind wander back to the encounter with Namjoon. Far too easy to dwell on the ache that surfaces every time you remember.

“Go on, Ttal.”

You turn in the direction of your mother’s voice and find her stirring from her nap. She places one soft hand over yours and squeezes. “She’s right. Go take some time away. I’ll be fine here with Jinjoo.”

“See?” Jinjoo waves a hand to shoo you out of the chair. You stand and she immediately takes your place in the seat. “Your mother agrees. Now go. And buy something pretty to wear while you’re at it.”

You look from her to your mother and see both women wearing matching expressions of encouragement.

You decide they’re right.

So you spend the rest of your day pampering yourself and shopping and definitely not thinking about Kim Namjoon.

You don’t think about him when you read the book he recommended to you once at the salon, you don’t think about him when you stop for a bite at his favorite Tteokbokki stand and you definitely don’t think about him when you buy a new sweater that makes you feel beautiful.

You definitely don’t think about him at all.

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

NAMJOON

Kim Namjoon’s father was a pig.

A glutton of the worst kind, he hoarded money and guns and drugs and because no one ever tried to stop him. He used and abused everything and everyone just because he could.

Namjoon hated to watch the sadistic games his father played with people. He hated that the man seemed to direct the worst of his cruelty at the women in his life.

Namjoon’s own sister left everything behind to escape his violence and abuse and somehow his father was even more vicious with the women he bedded and discarded at random. He dangled things like money and security and love in front of them like bait, only to yank it all away on a whim.

That’s why Namjoon has worked so hard his entire life to prove to others -- to prove to himself -- that he’s better than the piece of shit who raised him.

That’s why the look on your face in his office that night cut so deep.

That look pierced straight through the lust and the scotch clouding his judgement and forced him to step back and see the situation for what it was. It made him feel sick to think he might have made you feel like his help came with conditions. That he’d done what he had expecting you to give yourself to him in return.

He couldn’t allow you to think he’d use his money to try and buy you. That’s something his father would have done.

And Kim Namjoon is not his fucking father.

So this morning he finds himself walking towards your desk, determined to make it right. You don’t register his approach as you work quietly and Namjoon has a quick moment to take you in.

There’s something different about you.

Namjoon can’t put his finger on it, but when he gets close enough for you to notice his presence and you glance up at him from under those long lashes, you look changed somehow.

Rested. Radiant.

The second you register that it’s him though, the look on your face changes. You stand up from your chair, expression shuttered, tone formal.

“Mister Kim,” you murmur. “How can I help you this morning?”

“Please sit,” Namjoon starts quietly. “I, uh --” He digs his nails into his palm, annoyed with the hesitation in his delivery. Spit it out, you moron.

“-- I owe you an apology.”

Your lips part in surprise before you close your mouth, sinking slowly back into your chair.

Namjoon rubs one hand across the back of his neck, stealing a sideways glance at Seokjin’s office door. It remains closed and he’s glad for it. The last thing he’d want is an audience for this embarrassing exchange.

“The other night I was --” he clears his throat awkwardly. Loaded. Horny. Stupid.

He eventually lands on a less damning adjective. “-- not entirely appropriate with you.”

You blink back but keep quiet so Namjoon keeps talking.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way,” he acknowledges weakly. “That’s not normally how I treat my employees. And I’m sorry.”

Spots of color appear in your cheeks.

“Well as your employee, I admit it wasn’t appropriate for me to just turn up in your office without notice, either,” you reply quietly. “I think I was just shocked by your generosity. It’s a lot of money, and I --”

“-- Don’t think anything of it,” Namjoon interjects quickly. “You’ve saved me that amount and more with your audits. It only made sense to repay you for your efforts.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Namjoon knows it immediately. It’s not the truth -- not by a mile -- and judging by the look that passes over your face, it’s definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“Mister Kim.”

“Yes?” Namjoon replies, only to realize that you are now looking past him and that he’s not the only one answering.

He turns slowly to find Seokjin standing behind him, wearing an expression halfway between curiosity and scrutiny. Namjoon’s nails dig back into his palms, leaving tiny indents in the skin.

“Good morning,” you continue, turning your attention fully to Seokjin. Seokjin looks between you and Namjoon before answering.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says slowly.

“If you’re ready to go over the new audits, I have more information to cover with you,” you say, pointing at the papers riddled with notes on your desk. Namjoon stands there like an idiot, watching the two of you interact like he’s not even there.

“Sure,” Seokjin agrees, eyes darting back to Namjoon. “Let’s go ahead and get into the numbers.”

“Great,” you say with a smile, standing to organize your papers into a folder.

You look back at Namjoon like he’s an afterthought and the realization stings. “If that was all you needed, I’ve got some work to handle now.”

The nails in his palm are this close to drawing blood.

He cuts his eyes at Seokjin who immediately looks away.

“Certainly,” he says under his breath. “Let me not keep you.”

You turn your back on him to head into Seokjin’s office.

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

Namjoon stares out at the setting sun from his office window.

He’s spent the last few days hiding out in here, avoiding everything and everyone. Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin -- his phone keeps lighting up with calls he won’t answer. His already black mood darkens every time his mind replays the seemingly endless string of disastrous exchanges with you.

He still can’t figure out how he’s managed to fuck things up so royally.

He still can’t figure out why he didn’t just tell you the truth about the money and about Jinjoo. He should have just admitted outright that for once he wanted to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. He should have just admitted that you mean something to him.

That’s the real reason why things are so screwed up right now.

It would be so simple if this was just about sex. It would be so simple if Namjoon could just get you into bed and get you out of his system. But you’re not Mina or Yejin or any of the others.

You’re not like any woman he’s ever known.

Namjoon leans back into his chair just as his cell phone lights again and he grabs it just long enough to reject the call before tossing it back onto his desk. He rubs his fingers across his mouth and watches the sun fall behind the nearby skyscrapers.

You deserve so much more than he is capable of giving you.

You deserve happiness and security and certainty. What you don’t deserve is to be toyed with by a man who doesn’t know what his future looks like. A man who’s still so damaged by his own upbringing that he worries he’ll never be capable of being a decent husband and father.

Truthfully, Namjoon doesn’t know which scenario scares him more.

The one where he tries -- and fails -- to give you the things you need, or the one where he drifts through the rest of his life anchored to no one and nothing.

The sound of an incoming text interrupts his maudlin thoughts.

Namjoon reaches for his phone and sighs as he reads the waiting message.

reservations at doore yoo, 8 PM [ 6:32 PM ]

join me [ 6:32 PM ]

it’s been too long [ 6:33 PM ]

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

“Mister Kim.”

The Maitre’d at Doore Yoo bows in Namjoon’s direction, flashing a wide smile. “A pleasure to have you back.”

“Thank you Sungho,” Namjoon murmurs, scanning the crowded dining room. “Is she waiting for me?”

“She is,” Sungho confirms.

Namjoon follows him past the tables packed with patrons to the exclusive dining area hidden away in the back. This is his regular table, inside his regular private room -- but when Sungho slides the door open, Namjoon stops short and nearly tells the man he’s made a mistake.

The young woman waiting for him inside is unrecognizable.

From the back, Namjoon can see that her dark hair has been swept into a careful updo, shoulders and skin bared in a delicate spaghetti-strap top. But that can’t be right.

Because she would never --

“Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon’s sister lifts her chin and smiles as he steps around the table.

He catches himself staring, momentarily thrown by the sight in front of him. It’s the first time in his life he can recall seeing his sister wearing something that doesn’t cover the jagged scar that crosses her collarbone. The scar that she’s spent a lifetime hiding, ashamed of the way it made her look and feel. At once, the realization hits him -- the hundreds of different ways she’s changed, big and small since falling in love with Hoseok.

Every last one of them for the better.

“Amsaja, you look -- ” Namjoon pauses to brush a kiss across her cheek, “ -- wonderful.”

She flushes.

“Thank you. Now sit,” she orders kindly, reaching for her wine glass. “For a minute there I thought you might not show.”

Namjoon exhales, sinking into his seat.

“For a minute there, I almost didn’t,” he admits. “It’s been a shitty week.”

His sister says nothing, smiling like a sphinx as a server appears to offer Namjoon his own drink.

“Club soda on ice,” Namjoon orders quietly. “Thanks.”

Her poker face slips then, one eyebrow lifting in surprise at seeing him forgo his usual scotch. She sips her wine thoughtfully before speaking.

“Talk to me, Namjoon.”

“There’s little to talk about,” he deflects irritably, staring past her to the art on the walls.

“Hoseok says you’ve barely left your office. Won’t take his calls.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, hackles raising immediately.

“Tell Hoseok he should work on his pillow talk,” he says sharply, and the second the words leave his mouth he regrets them. Namjoon sees the change in his sister’s demeanor, watches her eyes sharpen from across the table.

“Forgive me,” he apologizes quickly. “That was uncalled for. I’m fucking things up left and right these days, it seems.”

His sister stares back at him. Namjoon knows that face, knows she’s now opted to abandon her charm offensive for a more direct approach. He knows it’s exactly what he deserves for being an asshole.

“That’s my understanding, yes,” she says tightly. “As smart as you are, you seem to be doing some very stupid shit lately.”

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, cheeks warming at her rebuke.

“You’re right,” he admits. “But I’m going to need you to be more specific about which stupid shit you want to talk about tonight.”

“Don’t be dense,” his sister scolds. “Clearly, you’re tied up in knots over your assistant. Oh, I’m sorry -- I mean former assistant.”

Namjoon’s defeated sigh hangs in the air for a moment.

“Is that what Hoseok says?”

“That’s what everyone says,” his sister fires back. “You think you’re such a mystery but I assure you, you’re actually quite transparent. Sending her away to work for Seokjin? Hiring a private nurse? Good grief, Namjoon. Real subtle.”

Shit, he wishes he had a scotch right now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to explain to me why you’re playing this stupid game of push and pull with this woman. If you care about her, do something about it instead of lashing out at everyone around you because you’re angry with yourself.”

“She’s not --” Namjoon falters as he searches for a proper explanation, “-- she has a complicated life right now. I’m just trying to help her the only way I know how.”

His sister leans back in her chair, wine glass tipped in his direction.

“You know what I think? I think you like her too much and I think that’s freaking you out. And I think you’re going to miss out on a good thing because you won’t get your head out of your ass.”

Namjoon stares back at his sister.

“I think you might be right,” he concedes, after a heavy silence.

“Namjoon, I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” his sister says quietly. “Whatever you’re feeling, she’s feeling it too.”

He knows that’s true. It’s been damned near impossible not to feel the charged air between you, impossible not to share passing looks and fleeting touches while working in such close quarters. When he looks at you he knows instinctively that you feel the same pull. It’s only made his precarious position that much harder.

“I just --” he shakes his head as he tries to justify his inaction, “-- I have no idea what I’m offering her. I don’t know what I’m capable of giving her. Beyond money, of course.”

His sister laughs.

Namjoon waits for her to collect herself, ears warm with embarrassment. He resists the childish impulse to kick her under the table.

“Is that funny to you?”

“Hilarious, actually,” she teases. “You have no idea what you have to offer her? You’re one of the most powerful men in this city, Namjoon. There’s nothing you couldn’t offer her.”

The server arrives with dumplings and sets them in the middle of the table, and his sister reaches for one.

“If she’s this important to you, I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for her,” she continues. “Stop overthinking this. You’re a good man. Everything else is icing on the cake.”

“I haven’t acted like a good man lately,” he confesses, shaking his head. “She came to my office a few nights ago and I acted like a drunk, groping asshole. Like father, like son.”

His sister sets her wine glass down, hard.

“You’re nothing like our father, Namjoon,” she says, eyes flashing with anger. “Quit telling yourself you don’t deserve happiness out of some misguided, misplaced guilt. And whatever happened in that office can be fixed. If you want to fix it.”

Namjoon watches the bubbles in his club soda surface and break. He does want to fix it. He wants to figure out a way to stop fucking everything up where you’re concerned.

“I do,” he admits.

“Have you apologized?”

“Awkwardly. Not sure that it helped my case.”

“Then I think you need to offer her the one thing that’s more valuable than your money, Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow at his sister.

“What’s that?”

She plucks a dumpling off the plate with her chopsticks and points it at him.

“Give her your time.”

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

YOU

It’s freezing tonight.

You wrap your arms around yourself and brace against the biting wind as you approach your family home. You’re dead on your feet, worn after a long day at the office -- and for the thousandth time since her arrival you silently give thanks for Jinjoo.

Knowing your mother is taken care of while you’re gone and coming back to a clean home and warm meals has eased your burdens immeasurably.

Of course, it’s all really thanks to Kim Namjoon -- but that’s something you’re not allowing your mind to dwell on right now. You’ve worked hard over the past few days to push any thought of that man back to the furthest recesses of your mind.

You’re peeling out of your scarf and coat in the foyer when a laugh echoes down the long hallway. It’s the sound of your mother’s laugh -- clear in a way you haven’t heard in a very long time -- and it’s definitely not coming from her room.

“Eomma?” you call out as you walk towards the sound. A peal of Jinjoo’s laughter rings out next and you smile, following it.

You round the corner to the living room and your mouth drops open when you spot your mother, fully dressed for the first time in ages, sitting on the formal couch. Jinjoo is seated next to her, both women smiling and laughing at --

Oh God.

Namjoon stands from his seat on the opposite couch when your eyes meet his. His cheeks are pinked from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and he looks so handsome that for a moment you forget how to think.

“Welcome home,” he says, dimples emerging from his slow, careful smile.

You stare back at him, rooted to the spot. Your face warms when you realize that every single eye in the room is trained on you, awaiting your next move.

“Do you -- ” Namjoon clears his throat, “ -- do you think I could have a minute of your time?”

“What are you doing here?” you say, blowing right past his question.

Jinjoo makes a disapproving sound under her breath.

“Ttal,” your mother interjects with a tone that borders very close to warning, “Mister Kim came by to talk to you. He kept the two of us company until you came home.”

You turn to look at her and -- is she wearing lipstick?

“Yes,” Namjoon adds quickly, turning the warmth of his smile back to your mother and Jinjoo. “And they’ve been wonderful company. Thank you, ladies.”

The two of them titter like schoolgirls enjoying the attention of the most popular boy in school while you just stare.

And stare.

“Ttal?”

Your mother’s voice breaks through your mental fog. You look back at her and Jinjoo and both women appear to be holding their breath, awaiting your response. Jinjoo’s eyes are pleading when they meet yours, silently begging you to play nice.

You turn back to Namjoon slowly.

“One minute.”

“Great,” he breathes, shoving a hand through his hair.

“Not here.”

The words come out more sharply than you’d intended and your mother’s eyes go wide. Jinjoo sighs.

“What I mean to say,” you start again, delivery clumsy, “Is that we should probably step outside.”

“Of course,” Namjoon agrees.

You will your leaden legs and feet to cooperate as you turn to leave, grabbing your coat from the foyer closet on the way. You slip it on and lead Namjoon out to the front porch, immediately wincing at the bitter cold that greets you.

The door clicks shut and you burrow deep into your coat, turning to face him. You force yourself to ignore the warmth that blossoms in your chest when his mouth curves into a soft smile.

“Your mother seems to be doing well tonight,” Namjoon notes. “I’m glad to see it.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he can just show up here on a whim -- looking like that, talking like that.

Charming everyone in his path.

“Namjoon, I’m going to ask again. What are you doing here?”

The smile on his face falls and he looks skyward, exhaling a puff of steam into the cold night air.

”I’m here to come clean,” he confesses quietly. “Thought I might do this new thing where I try not to act like an idiot around you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, stomach fluttering wildly in response.

A lock of his hair falls over his eye when he looks back down and you smother the urge to brush it back, hands balling into fists in your pockets.

“Thought I might do this new thing where I just tell you the truth.”

You’ve tried so hard these past few days to be angry with him, to use your hurt feelings like a wall around your heart. But you can’t anymore. He looks down at you with those huge, dark eyes and your grudge falls apart.

“I care about you,” he admits. “I’ve been stumbling over my own feet for weeks because I didn’t know how to approach you about it. And then that night in the office,” he trails off, looking pained. “That is not how I intended to treat you.”

A gust of wind blows through and you curl into yourself, teeth chattering. Namjoon pulls off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Please don’t,” you protest weakly. “You’ll freeze.”

“I won’t,” he promises, stepping closer.

You wrap the wool tight around your body, enjoying the way his lingering heat and scent wrap around you at the same time. Your heart is beating so wildly you can hear your pulse in your ears.

“Namjoon,” you whisper. “You must know I feel the same way.”

He reaches one hand up to stroke his fingers across your cheek.

“I was really hoping you’d say that.”

He’s so close now that all it would take is the slightest tip of your chin, the most incremental change in angle to press your mouth to his. But he doesn’t close the small distance between you. His gaze shifts to the street and you follow it, only now realizing a black sedan has been idling outside your house this entire time.

Your cheeks flame hot at the thought of his driver witnessing this exchange.

“I want a chance to do this the right way,” he murmurs. “Can I have it?”

You nod, waiting for your mouth to catch up to your brain. “Of course.”

He smiles wide then, the kind of smile you haven’t seen on him in a long time and once again you’re struck by how handsome he is. He narrows his eyes playfully when he realizes you are staring.

“Let’s get you inside before you get sick.”

You nod, pulling off his coat and watching as he shrugs back into it. He grabs for your hand, fingers brushing against yours just as you reach for the door.

“Good night, Namjoon,” you say softly.

He squeezes your cold fingers with his.

“Good night.”

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

Namjoon sends his driver for you.

You shift uncomfortably in the backseat of the sleek car, avoiding Chun’s gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror. Up until now, you knew him only as the voice on the other end of the line when you’d arranged for Namjoon’s rides.

Now you’re matching a face with a voice -- and so is he.

You try not to dwell on how this must look after the scene outside your home just a few nights ago. Especially now that he’s been tasked with taking you to Namjoon’s penthouse.

It’s embarrassing, certainly -- but even this pales in comparison to what you’d had to endure before leaving the house.

When your mother had asked you to come see her and casually inquired about the last time you’d shaved your legs. When Jinjoo had made a point of letting you know that she was planning on staying all night long just as you were walking out the door.

That was definitely the most embarrassing part.

That’s why you feel a knot in your stomach as the security guard in Namjoon’s building escorts you personally up to the very top floor -- the one accessible only by keycard. That’s why you find yourself holding your breath right until the very moment Namjoon opens the door.

Then you let go of that breath.

“Thank you, Jaejin,” he greets, bowing in the man’s direction. He turns his attention to you and the knot in your stomach explodes into butterflies.

“Thanks for coming,” he says with a careful smile.

As if you had any choice in the matter. You kick your brain into gear and remind yourself to stop staring and smile back as the door shuts behind you.

He takes your coat and you take him in.

It’s the most casual you’ve ever seen him look, barefoot in jeans and a button-down shirt rolled to the elbows. He looks fresh from a shower, skin glistening and golden. The scent of him --- clean and male and intoxicating -- wafts over you.

Followed by a far less enticing one.

“Namjoon,” your nose wrinkles at the acrid smell, “Is something burning?”

“Something was burning,” he admits sheepishly. “But it’s not anymore. And you -- “ he pauses to let his gaze rake over you, “ -- you look incredible.”

Heat creeps up your neck and into your face, making you feel just a touch too warm in your brand new sweater.

“Thank you,” you reply, accepting his compliment with a shy smile. “So do you.”

He looks at you for a long moment, and you clear your throat, feeling uncomfortable with the admiration in his eyes.

“Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe the words through a nervous laugh. “That sounds great, actually.” You hope it’s not obvious that you’re jumping at the chance to take the edge off of your jitters.

Namjoon leaves you standing in his grand living room as he heads to the kitchen to pour the wine. You’ve always known he was a wealthy man -- but knowing that in the abstract and seeing it firsthand are two different things entirely. You take in the massive wall-to-wall windows and gleaming marble floors and custom-made art pieces with silent awe.

Namjoon interrupts your gawking when he returns with your wine.

“So about dinner,” he starts with a chuckle. “It’s on the way. I attempted to cook something, but as you already know that didn’t quite work out. Not surprising, seeing as I’ve never cooked in this kitchen before.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise. “Never?”

“Never,” he says with a smile. “I’ve never brought anyone to this apartment, either.”

His smile vanishes then, a more serious look taking its place. You swallow thickly as you let the implication of that statement wash over you.

“No one?”

“No one,” he confirms quietly.

Your lips part with surprise and Namjoon looks away, like he’s admitted too much -- and you stand there spinning your wheels, searching for something to say.

The sound of the door chime is a well-timed and welcome interruption.

Namjoon heads to the door to accept the food and you realize the same security guard who escorted you up here is making the delivery. It makes sense, of course, that only a trusted few could get this close to Namjoon’s private space.

“Are you expecting more people?” you tease with a smile when the guard wheels in a cart weighted down with enough food to feed an army.

Relief washes over you when Namjoon smiles back. The strange moment that passed between you before is forgotten.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got one of everything.”

Pleasant smells emanating from the carefully-packed containers fill the apartment, pushing away the burnt one still lingering from the food that’s been relegated to the trash.

“Just so you know,” you laugh, “I like all of it.”

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

The centerpiece of Namjoon’s outrageously opulent great room is the fireplace.

Your fingers wrap tight around the stem of your wine glass as you stare into the flames and contemplate how this night will end.

You know how you want it to end.

You know the dozens of debauched fantasies you’ve entertained about Namjoon -- the myriad ways he’s had you in your mind. But there’s no way for you to know what his intentions are, how he expects this night to end.

That’s why you’re strung tight as a bow as you hear him clearing plates and cleaning up in the kitchen. The sounds eventually slow and then stop. And you wait.

You don’t hear him approach.

You come out of your thoughts and look away from the flames and he’s just there, standing in front of the couch wearing an expression you can’t read. The wine starts to wobble inside your glass, set in motion by your unsteady hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, reaching for it. “Let me.”

He takes the glass and places it on the coffee table, sinking into the space next to you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He leans in and reaches out to thread his hands into your hair.

“Namjoon,” you whisper weakly, pulse leaping in response.

His eyes seem to darken at the sound of his name. His fingers slip out of your hair and under your jaw, tipping your chin up and compelling you to meet his gaze.

“I told you I was going to do this the right way,” he murmurs, “And I meant it. After that night in my office, I promised myself I was never going to put you in that position again.”

Your tongue slips out to wet your lips involuntarily, as if the action could take the place of the words you want so badly to say.

But Namjoon makes no move, fingers firm under your jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes gently. “If you want this -- if you want me, tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

The words come out in a rush, laced with such desperation they sound like a plea, not an order. A smile tugs the corner of Namjoon’s mouth and he nods.

Carefully, deliberately, he sinks his mouth onto yours.

You sigh against the press of his lips as the pads of his fingers stroke the side of your face. For a moment you can’t think; can’t process a thing beyond the spice on his tongue from the Buldak or how impossibly soft his lips feel against yours.

He kisses you until you can’t breathe -- and just a moment beyond that -- until you are forced to pull away, chest heaving.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admits, panting.

“I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids,” you confess, emboldened.

He leans close again, eyes half-lidded, lips grazing yours.

“Well, we’re not kids anymore.”

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

NAMJOON

Namjoon has to force himself not to totally fucking devour you.

You are finally in his hands and the urge to unleash months of wait and want on you is so strong he has to take a physical step back.

You look up at him from where you sit on his bed -- hair mussed from his fingers, lips swollen from his kisses -- and he hesitates, unsure of his next move.

“If you’re thinking you don’t want to -- “ you start.

Namjoon cuts you off with a strangled laugh.

“Trust me, that’s not what I’m thinking,” he vows, shoving a hand through his hair. “It’s like I’ve wanted you so bad for so long I don’t even know where to start.”

Your eyes soften as you gaze at him.

Namjoon holds his breath as he watches you slip out of your sweater and then out of your jeans. You lie back against his sheets, eyes holding steady contact with his.

“Start anywhere,” you breathe quietly. “Start everywhere. Just start. Please.”

Fuck, you are going to be his undoing.

It takes him an irritatingly long time to work the buttons of his shirt open on account of his thick, clumsy fingers. He finally manages to get out of it and his jeans follow right behind.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” you murmur as he slides into the bed next to you. His fingers rake over the soft skin of your stomach and you jerk under his fingertips, body reacting immediately to his touch. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Namjoon smiles when you use his own words against him.

He dips his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply -- savoring the soft, sweet smell of your skin. He mouths at your pulse point, feeling it race in response when his fingers trail lower to tease the delicate band of your panties.

“I figured out where I want to start,” he murmurs, sucking gently at the hollow of your collarbone.

He feels your deep intake of breath when he slips one hand into the satin, grazing against your mound. He shifts lower, allowing one finger to dip into your center, groaning at the wetness he finds waiting for him there.

“So responsive, Jagiya,” he praises softly. “So beautiful.”

You make a needy sound, hips lifting off the bed as you chase the pressure of his fingers. He turns to capture your lips again with his own, simultaneously working two fingers into the tight space between your thighs.

“Namjoon,” you sigh brokenly, “F-feels so good.”

“I can do better,” he promises. “Turn over for me.”

He waits for you to comply, body shifting in the bed. Once you are face down, he climbs over you, dipping his mouth to the shell of your ear, biting gently on the soft skin. You shiver underneath him, moaning softly.

Slowly, he kisses a line down the back of your neck, hands stopping just long enough to undo the clasp to your bra. He slips it off of you, reaching under you to tease at your nipples with his fingertips. He chuckles low with satisfaction when you twitch under his fingertips.

He continues his descent, dropping kisses along the soft line of your back. His hands reach your panties and he pulls them off, mouth sucking gently at the base of your spine.

“Namjoon,” you gasp, the sound of your plea is muffled as you press your face into the sheets. “Touch me.”

He sinks one long finger into you then, savoring the tight pull of your heat as his tongue flicks out to taste you. Your hips jerk off the bed and he uses both strong hands to urge your legs further apart.

“Relax for me,” he soothes, mouth closing over your wet center.

He pushes a second finger into you and you shudder at the fullness, back arching. The movement angles your cunt even closer and Namjoon seizes the opportunity, tongue firm as he swipes it against you.

He can tell how badly you want this. He can feel it in the way your thighs tremble while he’s working you with his fingers and tongue. He can hear it in the way you whimper when he nips gently at you with his teeth.

“Namjoon,” the tilt to your voice makes it sound like you are on the verge of tears. “Please -- I c-can’t -- ” Your thought evaporates into thin air when he groans directly into your center, curling his fingers deep against the spot inside of you that draws a sharp gasp.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs his encouragement as you buck against his grip. “Come for me, Jagiya.”

He looks up just long enough to see your fingers twisted into the sheets, face buried deep into the pillow as you fall apart in his hands. You make the prettiest sounds as you succumb. Somewhere in the midst of your frantic whispering he hears his name and the sound goes straight to his cock, making the ache there almost impossible to ignore.

He ignores it anyway -- pushing the feeling aside to ride out the tremors with you, relishing the taste of your release on his tongue. He praises you, savors you, keeps you anchored to his mouth until your hips drop flush to the bed with exhaustion.

Then he kisses his way back up the line of your spine, dropping down at your side. You look so deliciously sated and flushed when you turn over that Namjoon can’t help the slow smile that comes over him.

You kiss it right off.

You fit your body against his -- slick skin against slick skin -- and kiss Namjoon so hard it takes him by surprise. Your hands dive into his hair, mouth desperate against his.

Namjoon chuckles under his breath at your newfound boldness, fingers reaching to tease at one pebbled nipple. Your body jolts in response and you answer with a move of your own, one hand sliding across the hard plane of his stomach and into his boxers.

Up until this very moment, he’s been able to ignore the insistent throbbing between his own legs. But the moment your fingers wrap around him -- the moment you start to pump your hand gently over him -- it becomes his only thought.

“Shit,” he groans, breaking the kiss to inhale deeply, “God, that feels good.”

You pull away to maneuver your body over his.

Namjoon watches through hooded eyes as you pull his boxers down his legs and then turn your attention to his straining cock. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth to contain the noise he makes when your mouth descends onto him.

The moments that follow are a test of the last shreds of Namjoon’s self-control.

The wet warmth of your mouth surrounds him, tongue teasing at the sensitive places that make his hips jerk and his mouth drop open in surrender. Your grip around his cock stays firm, mouth soft in contrast -- both sensations almost too much to bear at once.

He slips a hand in your hair to push back the strands that have fallen into your face and you release him with a pop, lips wet and swollen, eyes glassy and wide.

He nearly comes right then and there.

“No more,” he croaks, voice hoarse with arousal. “That’s all I can take.”

The smile you return is nothing short of victorious. Namjoon rolls you onto your back in one fluid motion, more than ready to retake his position of control. Your eyes are sparkling with laughter and he grins back.

“You like seeing me at your mercy, huh?” he teases, dropping kisses into the crook of your neck.

“I do,” you admit, shuddering when he slips one hand back down to the apex of your thighs. “It’s nice to be the one in charge for a change.”

Namjoon kisses you slowly then, taking himself in hand to slide the head of his stiff cock against the wetness spilling from your entrance. He pulls up on his arms and looks down at you just to appreciate the way you look right now, hair splayed across his pillow and skin luminous against his sheets.

“You’ve always been in charge, Jagiya,” he breathes, enjoying the way your cheeks pink in response. “Just like you’re in charge right now. So tell me what you want.”

The humor disappears from your eyes then, replaced by something heady and dark.

Namjoon sucks in a breath when your hand wraps back around his cock, guiding him back to your entrance. He throbs with need under your fingertips, muscles locked tight with anticipation.

“This -- ” you murmur, tilting your hips up to take him in, “ -- is what I want.”

Namjoon sinks down carefully then, slowly -- choking back a moan at the unbearably tight grip of your walls. You gasp, nails digging into his back as he strokes to the hilt.

“This is what you want?” he goads, feeling powerful now, drunk on the sight of you writhing beneath him. He pulls back and surges forward again, drawing a desperate moan from you. “Like this?”

You wrap your legs around him, hands sliding down the slick skin of his back until your fingers are gripping his ass, urging him to move faster.

“Yes,” you manage on a shaky breath. “Like that. Over and over and over.”

Namjoon buries his smile against your breasts, tonguing at your nipples as his hips piston against you. He nips at one with his teeth and you whine, back arching off the bed.

“You’re made for me,” he groans, panting his praise in between deep strokes, “So tight and wet I can’t think.”

You hum your contentment into his mouth when you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close for a kiss. He slips one hand under your ass, dragging you deeper into his heavy strokes and you cry out.

He’s always hated the echo in this place. But hearing the sound of your voice calling his name echoing off the walls is an entirely different story. It lights a fire inside of him -- making him move faster, harder -- desperate to hear it again.

“Namjoon -- “ your hands claw at his back as you cling to him. “ -- I think, I think I’m going -- “

“You will,” he rasps, when you lose all hope of finishing that thought.

He sinks his thumb into his mouth before dragging it down to rub slow circles across your aching clit and you clamp down around him in response. He chokes on his own moan, summoning just enough control to keep himself from exploding inside of you.

But then you start to unravel.

In those final moments, you feel hotter and wetter -- begging brokenly in his ear for some kind of relief. Namjoon holds off until the tight grip of your cunt starts to pulse around him and then he gives in. He comes so hard his vision darkens before it comes back.

Then he collapses on top of you, panting and wrecked.

You press a kiss into his neck and rake your nails gently up and down his back.

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

Namjoon wakes up alone.

He should be used to the feeling by now, but after last night -- after you -- he can’t help but feel disappointed.

He shoves a hand through his hair, slips into a pair of lounge pants and heads to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Then he stops in his tracks.

You are standing in front of the massive window in his living room, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, holding a mug of coffee in one hand. You sip it thoughtfully and look out over the city, seemingly unaware of his presence.

So Namjoon just stands there for a while, admiring your long legs and soft skin and the dark hair that spills down your back. Admiring the way you make this place bearable just by existing in it.

“Thought you left me,” he says quietly, and you startle out of your reverie at the sound of his voice.

“I did leave you,” you feign a serious expression, nodding at your mug. “For this. Thought you’d understand.”

“That I do,” he laughs, padding across the room to join you at the window.

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and you smile up at him.

“What are you thinking about this morning?” Namjoon presses quietly. “What’s on your mind?”

You sip your coffee and look back out the window before answering.

“I was just thinking about the day I came to ask for you a job,” you confess. “How afraid and alone I felt back then.”

Namjoon can still remember how he felt seeing you walk into his office after all those years. It certainly wasn’t afraid or alone and his chest squeezes at your admission.

“And now?”

“Now I feel …” you trail off as you turn back to look up at him. “... like everything’s going to be okay.”

He stares back at you, suddenly overwhelmed by how good this feels.

By how good it feels to be needed by you.

By how you in his shirt, in his apartment, in his life, makes total sense.

By how it feels like you belong here.

With him.

“You’re right, Jagiya. Everything is going to be okay,” Namjoon vows, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair. “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

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

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

Amsaja: Lioness

Jaegyueo: Jaguar

TAG LIST:

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hyungieyoongi · 3 years

Text

Spotlight: “Run Away to You” Part 3

You knew it was just a matter of time before someone figured it out.

Your carefully constructed reality was about to shatter.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader

Word Count: 2.0K

Genre: Angst + Fluff (there’s a hug and everything there is fluff on the horizon!!)

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

Part 2 // Part 4

---

You blinked your eyes a few times to adjust to the brightness of the morning as the sunlight streamed into your room through the crack in your curtains. Your eyelids felt heavy with exhaustion. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand, you let out an audible groan at the time. It was 9:30 a.m., meaning you had slept for four short hours, your brain and restless thoughts refusing to let you sleep until the early hours of the morning.

After you were finally able to stop the onslaught of tears last night, you sat with Marianne on your carpet and told her everything that happened: colliding with Yoongi at the corner store, the fight in your apartment, and how he comforted you during your panic attack. When she asked about the phone call from your old number, you simply played her the last voicemail Yoongi left you, letting his words sink in on their own.

“Shit,” Marianne breathed out.

“Tell me about it,” you agreed.

Your head was pounding, making you feel like you were suffering a hangover this morning from the lack of sleep combined with the many tears you cried. You went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, hoping the scalding hot water would burn away the memories of everything that had transpired.

You decided to avoid looking at either one of your phones, old or new, when you got out and dressed. Instead, you decided to try and convince your neighbor to let you take her dog on a walk. You desperately needed some company and fresh air to clear your head.

Donning the black hat on the hook by the door this time, you locked the door behind you. At the end of the hallway, you spotted your neighbor holding her little black pug in her arms, peering slightly over the railing at the end that looked out onto the sidewalk and street below.

“Hi there, good morning! What’s going on?” you asked, hoping your attempt at cheerfulness was convincing.

“You have to see this. There are cameras all over the place! The landlord had to come to shoo them from the stairwell and elevator this morning. Apparently, someone famous was sighted here yesterday, and now they’re looking for someone they say lives here? It’s quite the scene down there,” Susan let her pug down as she told you the news. He came bounding over to you, expecting to be showered with cuddles and kisses. Instead, you stood frozen in place, taking in everything Susan had just said.

“Cameras? There are cameras down there? In front of the building?” you asked.

“Yes, dear, isn’t that strange? I wonder if we have a celebrity in our midst!”

You let out a cough, giving Susan a fake excuse that you forgot a jacket so you could leave, ignoring her pug yapping at you for attention.

You were back in your apartment before Susan could question your odd behavior, grabbing your phone that you blatantly ignored when you woke up this morning.

You opened Twitter, going straight to the trending page.

The picture at the top of the list was blurry, but you could clearly make out two figures. It was a picture of you and Yoongi, walking to your apartment from the store. It looked like it had been taken on a phone camera, probably from the park across the street. Someone had to have recognized Yoongi, and now, there were cameras outside your apartment complex.

The picture causing a frenzy didn’t show your face, your hair covering your profile. You scrolled rapidly through some of the comments, people speculating about who the “mystery girl” was that Yoongi was with yesterday.

You knew it was just a matter of time before someone figured it out.

Your carefully constructed reality was about to shatter.

---

Yoongi’s phone was vibrating nonstop on the bed next to him. He tried to ignore it, shoving his face further under the thick comforter, hoping whoever was trying to reach him would just give up eventually.

When it started to vibrate incessantly once again, he finally glanced at the screen, fully prepared to yell at whoever woke him up.

An old picture of you filled his screen, one that Yoongi took when you first started seeing each other. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder after a long day of filming. You looked so at peace, one of his sweaters that you stole from his closet wrapped around your frame. He had snapped a photo, setting it as your contact photo, smiling at it every time you called.

He had never changed it.

Yoongi immediately sat up when he realized you were calling. He assumed he would never hear from you again, that the chapter between you two was officially closed. This time for good.

He answered on the third ring, but didn’t say anything, waiting to see if the call was an accident.

“…Yoongi?” his heart lurched at the sound of his name.

“Yes?” he asked tentatively, his voice rough with sleep.

“I need help. There’s a picture…of us. Together. I tried to call Marianne, but she didn’t answer. Yoongi, I…I don’t know what to do. I need help,” Yoongi waited, holding his breath, “I need you.”

He threw the covers off himself, already heading toward the door of his bedroom. You sounded so scared.

“I’ll come get you. Tell me where you are.”

---

Yoongi had given you careful instructions over the phone, his voice calm and calculated. You were supposed to wait in your apartment until exactly 10:30 a.m. and head down the back staircase to the alley behind your building. A car would be waiting for you there.

He told you to wear a mask and act casual, like you were just getting into a rideshare car. Be invisible and inconspicuous.

A black SUV was idling in your alleyway. You opened the backseat door on the driver’s side, shutting it quickly behind you.

“Miss Y/L/N?” the driver asked, turning around to face you. He had a kind smile, eyes slightly crinkling in the corners from his upturned lips. You nodded once.

“Good morning, I’ll be driving you to Mr. Min’s location. He requested that we send this particular vehicle because the windows are tinted for maximum security. Please make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you said, relieved.

Despite the driver’s assurance, you turned your head away from the window as the car passed the hoard of photographers outside of your building. They seemed to be getting restless with the lack of people coming in and out of your complex. You were grateful to be heading as far away from there as possible.

The car eventually reached a gate, the security guard waving the car forward once it checked the license plates. You pulled into an underground garage. You weren’t familiar with the building; you figured that Yoongi and the boys had moved within the last year as their label continued to grow.

The driver cleared his throat to get your attention.

“Mr. Min would like you to take the elevator, the one just there, ma’am,” he said pointing to the nearest set of silver doors, “to floor 16. He will meet you there.”

“Thank you, you honestly saved me today,” you told him with a grateful smile. He gave you another crinkle-eyed grin.

“It’s nothing, really. Give my regards to Mr. Min.”

“I will.”

The elevator lurched upward toward floor 16, and you realized you had no idea what to say to Yoongi. The doors opened, and you were startled when the man in question was pacing in front of the elevator doors, looking frazzled as he evidently waited for your arrival.

His head snapped toward the open doors when he heard the “bing” of the elevator.

“You made it,” he said simply when you walked toward him.

“Thanks to you,” you replied. “Yoongi, I can’t thank you enough. I know this is the last thing you probably expected today, but I appreciate it more than I can tell you.”

If you weren’t mistaken, there was a pink tinge on his cheeks at your words.

“We have a strategy meeting to get to. The label has some, uh, concerns about the photo.”

Your heart sank at his words, but you realized it was time to stop letting your emotions about the situation run the show. You were potentially going to be forced back into the spotlight you had tried so hard to stay away from. It was time to be professional about this.

“Right. Of course, lead the way,” your tone had become formal, sickly sweet and stiff. It felt unbelievably awkward after spilling your heart out to him yesterday. But you knew your place–you were just part of his label’s damage control problems for the day.

He turned on his heel, leading you down the long hallway, shoes clicking against the tile floor. You followed a foot behind him, wanting to give him, and you, space.

In the meeting, you gritted your teeth, your hands balled into fists underneath the table as you listened to a group of label management and the public relations team discuss what messaging, if any, to put out. Would it be better to let it die down on its own? Release a statement saying Yoongi was visiting an “acquaintance”? There were dozens of options they went through. Yoongi’s eyes kept straying to look at you, but your eyes stayed on the clock above the PR analyst’s head across from you.

When they started discussing whether to release your identity, however, you decided enough was enough. You stood, Yoongi watching your every move.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but I would feel more comfortable if my publicist was contacted before any decisions are made regarding the release of my private information,” you had worked in this industry, too, and hell, you weren’t going to let these people dictate your life. “As you can imagine, this has the potential to have far-reaching consequences on my own livelihood. It would be best to take no further action until she is in this room with you. Otherwise, I will be forced to contact my attorney.”

The room was silent.

“Until then, I’ll take my leave. Thank you,” you left with a flourish, the adrenaline leaving you as soon as you made it into the hallway. You didn’t know where you were going, you just couldn’t stay still, your feet carrying you away from the room and the murmurs going on inside of it.

“Y/N, wait,” Yoongi called after you. You sped up, hoping there was a bathroom or something nearby that you could go hide in until Marianne showed up. “Stop walking,” Yoongi’s voice was stern.

You paused mid-step, turning to face him with a blank expression.

“Yes, was there an update from your strategy meeting since I left?” Yoongi rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Y/N, stop, I know what you’re doing. You’re shutting yourself off. I don’t blame you for standing up for yourself back there. But please don’t act like I wanted any part of that meeting,” Yoongi said, defending himself. Your confidence deflated slightly.

“Fine,” you flinched at how harsh you sounded. “I’m sorry. God, all I’ve said to you in the past 24 hours is ‘I’m sorry.’ And I am. I just…this is all…it’s a lot. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, let alone under these circumstances.”

“My studio is a few floors below us. Come on, let’s get out of here while they figure it out,” Yoongi instructed. He walked past you, but you reached out, hand encircling his wrist to stop him. Your skin burned where it touched his.

“I wasn’t ready for any of this again. It’s all too much, too soon. If people find out who I am, my whole life will change, Yoongi. I-I don’t know if I can handle that.” Yoongi didn’t say anything, so you pulled your fingers away from his arm, expecting him to continue on his way to his studio.

Instead, he wrapped you tightly in his arms, pulling you close against him. He smelled like mint and coffee, and you closed your eyes at the familiarity of it, warmth blooming in your chest.

“It’ll be okay,” Yoongi mumbled, cheek pressed against the top of your head.

Enclosed in the comfort of his embrace, you decided to believe him.

Part 2 // Part 4

---

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