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midmourn · 3 months

Text

play the part

PAIRING Lee Donghyuck/Haechan/GN!Reader/Na Jaemin

SUMMARY Haechan’s your boyfriend, but Jaemin’s your best friend. How could he ever compete?

GENRE Angst

CONTENTS Brief mentions of (almost) vomiting, I think the phrase is called emotional cheating, alcohol use, surprise sad ending

WORDS 1,428

LISTENING TO that way by tate mcrae, traitor by olivia rodrigo, high infidelity by taylor swift

NOTE im not writing a part two so please don’t ask, thank you <3 i found this in my google docs so i tweaked it just a tiny bit and i couldn’t find it on my old blog so idk if i ever posted it or not

When Mark finds Haechan, the younger boy is still nursing the drink that he had received from Jaehyun when they first stepped inside the party. “Woah,” he tries to joke, already knowing how his best friend was feeling, “Still drinking that drink? You’d usually be in your fifth one by now. Finally decided to take AA seriously?”

Haechan doesn’t laugh, and Mark’s smile fades, sighing as his shoulders slump. Mark downs the rest of his own drink before setting it aside, not wanting it anymore. Haechan doesn’t look up when Mark sits beside him on the railing of the balcony, “You know, it’s probably not safe for us to be this close to the edge while drinking,” Mark gestures to the ground beneath them.

“I feel like death would be better than life right now,” Haechan murmurs, and even those the words could be taken as a joke, both of them know it’s not. And Mark has a pretty good idea on why that is. Mark follows to where Haechan’s gaze is, finding a group of people sitting around the pool in Jaehyun’s backyard, but Haechan’s eyes were only on two people— a familiar head full of of black and a familiar face.

Jaemin’s arm was thrown around your shoulders, the back of his head facing Mark and Haechan but your face was clear for Haechan to see. The grin on your face was so bright that even Mark’s eyes hurt. He wasn’t close enough to be able to see, but if he was, he was sure that he would’ve been able to see the stars decorating your eyes. Mark remembers when you and Haechan first met, the younger would not shut up about you. Mark knows things about you that he shouldn’t, and that’s because of him.

“They’re just friends,” Mark says, swallowing the lump in his throat for he can’t swallow the empathy swelling up inside of him— knowing exactly how his best friend feels. “You’re their boyfriend.”

“I have the title,” Haechan sighs, tilting his head up to drag his eyes away from the two of you. His glistening eyes stare up at the dark sky, clouds decorating the sky and moving to cover the moon. “But he has their heart.”

“If they had feelings for him, they would break up with you, Hyuck,” Mark tries to reassure him, but even Mark doesn’t believe his own words. He wishes he could help more.

“Not if they knew I’d be heartbroken by it,” Haechan swallows the rest of his drink down, welcoming the burning taste. It couldn’t beat the burning in his heart, though.

“Either way, you’re heartbroken,” Mark argues, shaking his head as he turns to face Haechan. “But if you were over, at least you’d be free to move on.”

Haechan doesn’t respond for a moment, only rolling his shoulders as he looks back down at the group of people again. He licks his lips before saying, “I have the title. That’s enough, right?” When Mark doesn’t respond, he exhales through his nose sharply, “I’m their boyfriend. I love them. That should be enough.”

There’s a painful silence before Mark speaks with an underlying tone of hurt, “Sometimes, it isn’t enough.” He’s starting to wish he had another drink. “Hyuck, you’re going to have to do it if they won’t.”

“Guess I’ll just have to play the part, then,” Haechan says suddenly, pushing himself off the railing and onto the balcony floor.

“What part?” Mark asks, eyebrows furrowing as he turns to him.

“Acting like I’m really stupid,” Haechan smiles, but it’s an empty smile. Mark’s not familiar with it— and he hates it. “And that I have no idea that they’re falling in love with their best friend.”

“How was your day?” Haechan asks, his phone laying on his bed with the speaker on. He’s drying his hair with the t-shirt he had on before he took a shower, staring into his mirror in front of his bed. “Have fun?”

“All I did was sleep and play Among Us with Jisung so,” you giggle and his heart swells at the sound, a smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, I did have fun.”

“So you’ll play Among Us with Jisung but not me?” He snarks, throwing his shirt into his dirty clothes hamper but you know he’s joking— he’s always joking like that. “Maybe you should date him instead.”

You giggle again, “Jisung is too young—”

“It’s barely two years,” he sits down on his bed, grabbing his phone to go through his photo gallery, almost every single one being of you. “I’ll even tell him for you, that way if you get rejected—” A small smile is on his lips as he stares down at a picture of you and him, visiting your shared lock at the Love Lock of Namsan Tower.

“Hey!”

“— You don’t have to witness it and ugly cry.”

“In this hypothetical situation, even if he said he liked me back, you’d still tell me he rejected me, wouldn’t you?”

Haechan laughs from surprise, sometimes forgetting just how much you know him, “And you’re right, for once. I’d then tell him the text was for someone else to humble him.”

Your laughter is loud and unapologetic, just how he likes it. “Oh, you are so—” You cut yourself off and it’s silent from your side before you start giggling, “Stop it.” His eyebrows furrow, head tilting as he pauses in his scrolling. What had he done? “No! Don’t be like that and don’t you dare—” You start giggling loudly again, shrieking for whoever to stop what they were doing. If you weren’t laughing, he’d have been concerned.

Haechan says your name once but when it’s not heard over your laughter, he frowns and goes back to the call, seeing that he’s not on mute. He says your name again and when no reply, he goes to say your name once more but a familiar voice stops him. His body freezes as his blood goes cold, staring down at his floor when he recognizes the voice.

No one has a voice like Na Jaemin does. And even if there was, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.

It’s when even after you stop laughing, and you talk to Jaemin like Haechan still isn’t on the phone with you, is when his heart finally drops like an anchor to the bottom of his stomach. You forgot.

They forgot, they forgot, they forgot, his mind chants back at him.

Haechan doesn’t register when your voice first cuts off, only looking down when he realizes and seeing that the call ended. He doesn’t remember if he ended it or if you remembered and did it yourself. Either way, his heart still hurts. Tears stream down his face as sobs rip out of his chest, with loud, violent sounds. His chest hurts, too. His chest is tightening, and coughs start to cough, each cough getting more violent than the next. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the harsh crying or—

He turns to find a water bottle for him to drink but his vision is blurry from crying and the coughing won’t stop, no matter how much he tries to breathe and calm himself down. The crying doesn’t stop, either. He has a feeling he’s about to throw up and pushes himself off his bed, stumbling to his bathroom with his hands on the walls and door frame so he won’t fall.

It doesn’t work, and he falls on his knees anyway. In only a matter of a few minutes, he’s soaked to the bone and his shirt is wet— his previously dry hair is clinging to his forehead and neck. Bile— he thinks— crawls up his throat and he throws himself to where he knows the toilet is, clinging onto the bathroom sink as it comes up and into the toilet.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he finally comes around, dried tear streaks on his cheeks and his vision is no longer blurry. His breathing is still heavy, but it’s slow and ragged. He’s not coughing or crying anymore. He can’t help but look in the toilet, not even knowing if he really threw up or if it was just his imagination. His breath catches in his throat, the sight of a familiar singular flower floating in the otherwise empty toilet. A light pink Orchid, your favorite flowers. He knows because he gave them to you on your first date.

Haechan isn’t stupid— and the flower only confirms his thoughts.

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peakyswritings · 7 months

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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART V

Summary: As they get closer, Tommy and Nina start to realise that their time together is limited. However, an unexpected event makes the tables turn.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of war, mentions of mutilation, this chapter contains triggering themes, such as sexual assault and violence. Read at your own risk.

A/N: I hope this is worth the wait! Useful information: in the first part of this chapter Nina is 17. She’s depicted as naive, maybe a bit too much for a seventeen-year-old, but bear in mind that she grew up in an extremely conservative environment. Also, I wrote all the dialogues in English because it would’ve been too much of a mess to switch between the languages, so keep in mind that whilst the dialogues between Nina and Agnese could be in both languages since they’re bilingual, the ones between Nina and Stefano are technically in Italian. Last, some things from the previous chapters are really important for this one. I do not claim any ownership to the dialogues excerpts taken from the show. English is not my first language.

After this way too long note, I hope you enjoy this chapter☀️

PREVIOUS PART

SERIES MASTERLIST

Gif credit

Dividers credit

1915, five years earlier

“They say Italy might join the war soon.”

It was the first time Nina voiced her concerns. She always had the feeling that if she expressed what was troubling her out loud, it would inevitably, irrevocably become true. But she had been bottling up that fear of hers for weeks now, and it had been growing and growing, consuming her from the inside. The weight of the basket she was carrying was nothing compared to the weight of uncertainty, of not knowing what to expect.

“They say that at your school?” Agnese asked absentmindedly, looking in the windows of the small bakery they always used to stop by when they were children, because they knew the owner would give them freshly baked biscuits for free.

“They say that everywhere,” Nina murmured, kicking a stone with her foot.

Agnese had heard about that possibility, and it scared her as well, but she didn’t fully understand the extent of the seriousness of the situation. No one ever bothered to explain it to her, and every time she asked questions about it, her family would just brush it off. She shouldn’t trouble herself with such nonsense, they said. And although she could ask Nina, she never found the courage to do it, far too ashamed of her own ignorance. Her cousin knew lots of things, talked about serious matters, had opinions that contrasted with everything they had ever been taught, and most of the times Agnese had troubles following the things she said. But she said them with such conviction, such mastery that she couldn’t help but agree with her. And she suspected that the reason why no one ever listened to Nina was because they had troubles following her as well. There was something unsettling in her cleverness.

“I’m worried about my brothers,” Nina admitted. “They’re old enough to be enlisted.”

Agnese shifted her attention back on her cousin, sending her a sympathetic look. “Maybe we won’t enter the war. And even if we do, maybe they won’t have to go. Your father can find a way to-”

“They’re not cowards,” Nina interrupted her with resolution, shaking her head. “The Spinietta brothers are cowards. Pietro and Salvatore are not like them.”

“What do the Spiniettas have to do with it?”

“I heard my father say that if we join the war, Mr. Spinietta already knows who to talk to to make sure his kids are not enlisted. He’ll shake a few hands, make a few threats, and they will be safe and warm in their houses. He might even send them to America, they have relatives there.”

Truth was, Nina wished they’d be sent to America. She wanted them to be as far away as possible from her, from the village. They walked around as if they owned every street, every shop, every person; as if everything was owed to them, because they had money and power. But everybody knew where that money came from. And even though she was aware that her family wasn’t any different, that their own money was mostly blood money, she still believed that her brothers were better than them.

“They’re cowards. Cowards and bastards, that’s what they are,” she gritted her teeth.

“You can’t say things like that,” Agnese hissed with wide eyes, frantically looking around to make sure no one was there to hear her. “Lower your voice.”

“I’m just telling the truth. They’re bastards. Sick bastards. You’ve seen how they’ve dragged that poor girl in their car, last week.”

Nina watched as her cousin pressed her lips together, avoiding her gaze. The episode had left both of them with a bitter taste in their mouths, and a feeling of powerlessness that haunted them still. They didn’t know why they had done what they had done, what they would do to her, but somehow they knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Because despite the kind smiles they were wearing and the false gentleness with which they had guided her into the car, it was clear that they were forcing her. The two cousins heard some girls say that she wasn’t the first, and probably wouldn’t be the last, and that the reason why they targeted her was because she had no father nor brothers.

Everyday since that day, Nina cursed herself for not intervening. Would things have gone differently, if she had said something? Would she have been in trouble as well? What kind of trouble was that girl even in? She didn’t have the answers.

Now she carried a pocket knife with her. If they even tried to get close to her, or to another girl in her presence, she wouldn’t be afraid to use it.

“You still can’t say things like that.”

“It’s not like they can do anything,” Nina shrugged.

There was a delicate balance between the families, assured by mutual fear and by the possibility of a bloodbath that wouldn’t suit anyone. But even that wasn’t enough to guarantee peace, one wrong step was all it would take to disrupt that balance. It was like a bomb waiting to explode.

“I need to buy some thread for my mum,” Agnese changed the subject, stopping in front of a shop. “Wait for me here.”

As her cousin disappeared into the shop, Nina placed the heavy basked on the ground to clench and unclench her sore hand. She slightly rubbed the red marks which were appearing on her palm, wincing at the pulsating sensation. The rev of an engine came to her ears, and before her mind could register what was happening, a car stopped in front of her. Stefano Spinietta stuck his head out of the window and sent her a smile, showing a perfect set of white teeth. “You want a ride home?”

Nina frowned, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust that came over her at the mere sight of his face. “No.” She said firmly, the lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything else. She had always hated how nervous she was when he spoke to her, when he looked at her. He always looked at her as if he wanted something from her. What it was, she could not tell, but it made her feel incredibly uneasy. His handsome features and immaculate manners didn’t fool her.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he taunted her, getting out of the car. “Let me help you with that.” Stefano reached his hand towards the basket, but before he could take it, Nina pushed it away with her foot. A glimmer of amusement flashed through his eyes, lighting up his face.

Her hand went to her pocket, and she clutched the small knife tightly, the weapon giving her a new found sense of security. She looked right into his eyes, and spoke enunciating each word carefully. “I said no.”

“I just wanna take you home,” Stefano insisted, his stupid smile still plastered on his face. “C’mon, get in the car.” He took ahold of her arm, slightly squeezing it as if he wanted to reassure her.

A wave of uncontrollable rage coursed through Nina, and in a matter of seconds she had him pushed against his car, her blade grazing his throat. Surprise spread across his features as he looked down at her.

“Touch me again,” she said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll cut your throat.”

Silence fell between them as they glared at each other in an unspoken competition, both of them waiting for the other to cave in. Nina forced herself to keep her burning gaze on him, while every muscle in her body urged her to run away. Instead, she didn’t move, head high, hand steady. She wouldn’t bend. She couldn’t bend. Stefano slowly held his hands up in surrender, the shadow of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Under her confused look, he slightly leaned forward, causing the blade to pierce his skin, and a trickle of blood seeped from the small wound, red, thick. It ran all the way down to Nina’s hand, and its slimy texture almost made her flinch. Stefano, on the other hand, had regained his composure, as if he was the one in control of the situation, as if he didn’t have a knife pointed at his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, staring at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes.

Nina hesitated for a moment, then, with a swift movement, she took a step back and placed the knife back in her pocket, suddenly aware that she had held her breath the whole time. Stefano sent her one last glance, before turning around and going back in his car without saying another word.

As he drove away, she glanced down at the crimson stain on her hand with wide eyes, her heart thumping in her chest. When Agnese walked out of the shop, unaware of what had just happened, she closed her shaking fingers in a fist, and hid her hand into her pocket.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” her cousin chuckled, looping her arm though hers. “Let’s go home.”

Present day

“I swear to God, I swear to God…she gave me sixpence. She sends me to the shop for margarine, eggs and bread. When I came back…”

“With a top hat and a coconut,” Nina shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips.

“And that was all the money we had for the whole fucking week,” Tommy stopped to lit his cigarette, then he raised his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face. “And me mum beat me with a fucking frying pan.”

“Why the hell did you buy a top hat and a coconut?”

“‘Cause I thought she deserved it. I thought we all did. And I could never understand,” he hit his hand on the table, a hint of some old anger creeping into his voice, “why people like us only had bread and fucking lard. And I wanted to be different. That’s what I wanted.” Silence fell between them as he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze getting lost in old memories.

Their late-night chats had become a habit now. The night after the first one, for some reason, Nina went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea, and, for the same unknown reason, Tommy went into the kitchen with a dry throat. Just like every night since then. They stayed up late, sharing thoughts, doubts and memories, whispering them into the night and letting it take them away. Over the past week, Nina had come to realise that there was way more than Tommy let on behind his stoic facade, and she found herself wishing to know more. As for Tommy, he liked hearing her talk. She had something to say, and she wasn’t afraid to say it. It was refreshing, and a nice change from the hordes of people who repeated somebody else’s words like parrots, without fully understanding their meaning.

“And you are different, aren’t you?”

The depth of Nina’s eyes became too much to bear. For the first time, Tommy suddenly felt exposed. It was as if she was reading right into him, as if she had him completely figured out, as if every thought, every fear, every unspoken word was no longer a secret. It scared him.

He cleared his throat, stomping out his cigarette. “I heard your brothers also fought in the war.”

“Yes,” she nodded. “They were at Caporetto.”

Pietro and Salvatore still bore the marks of that defeat, both physical and mental. Pietro, the older one, had almost lost an arm in combat, and even though two years had passed, sometimes it still hurt. But in exchange for the arm, the war took something else away from him. There seemed to be nothing left of his once caring nature, and his innate attention for details had turned into a urge to have everything under control. As for Salvatore, the war had enhanced the restlessness that had always distinguished him. He was angry, easily triggered, spiteful. And now he had a deep scar which crossed the left side of his face, making his expression appear even more grim. However, in Nina’s eyes, Pietro was still the boy who fought for her to keep on going to school, just like Salvatore was still the playful kid who took advantage of their size difference to sweep her off her feet and spin her around. But they were not those kids anymore. A line was drawn between Nina and her brothers, and that line became a breach, and that breach had continued to open up until an abyss yawned beneath their feet.

Nina took a sip from her cup of tea, sensing that it might be time to change the subject. The war was clearly a sore point for both of them, although for different reasons. “Agnese told me you like horses,” she sat up straight in her chair, her gaze lighting up with curiosity.

“Yes, I do like horses.”

“When I was a child I wanted to learn how to ride. I even asked my father to buy me a horse for my birthday,” she reminisced, a small laugh escaping her lips. “My mum threatened to leave for good if he ever dared to come home with a horse.”

“So you didn’t get the horse.”

“I didn’t get the horse.”

“You know, I’ve got horses, I could teach you how to ride one,” he proposed, the words escaping his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. Then he realised, and he paused for a moment. He wouldn’t get to teach her. A faint, bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I mean, when you come to Birmingham to visit your cousin.”

Nina couldn’t explain the strange effect his words had on her, the sharp stab of sadness that hit her right in her chest. She brushed off that feeling, telling herself it was just the thought of not seeing Agnese - her only friend and the only ally she had in that family - to cause it.

But Tommy recognised the stinging sensation that was rising up inside him, a sensation he had already felt before. A sensation he couldn’t admit, not even to himself.

“How are things with Tommy?” Nina casually asked her cousin, struggling to hang a bedsheet on the clothesline to dry in the shared backyard.

A sly smile flickered on Agnese’s face as she glanced at the black-haired girl, keeping on folding the dry clothes. “You call him Tommy now?”

Her question made Nina’s movements come to a stop. She shut her eyes for a moment, cursing herself for letting the man’s name slip out of her mouth. She hadn’t told anyone about how she and Tommy were on better terms, about the frequent conversations that had brought them to that point. She had been extra careful not to show the slightest hint of friendliness towards him in public, for she knew people would talk. She couldn’t risk Agnese getting the wrong idea. “Only when he isn’t around,” she murmured, starting to hang the laundry again.

That wasn’t too far away from the truth, though. Although Tommy did call her by her first name, she didn’t remember ever doing the same with him. She didn’t call him Mr Shelby anymore, either. She just didn’t address him. For some reason, calling him by his name seemed too personal. It felt like crossing a line that was not supposed to be crossed.

“I almost thought you were starting to approve of him,” Agnese joked, letting out a small giggle.

Nina forced a laugh, shaking her head, and a sense of guilt rose inside her. She told herself it was just an innocent, white lie; those secret conversations didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even a lie, just an omission of truth. A justified omission of truth.

Then why did she feel so bad?

Agnese fiddled with the necklace Tommy had given her, pondering her words. “He doesn’t seem to be…taken with me,” she revealed, a glimpse of worry shining in her green irises. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a gentleman, and he’s been nothing but polite to me, but… I don’t think he likes me.”

“Agnese, are you joking?” Nina hung the last shirt, before turning towards her cousin. It pained her to see her like that. She was the most beautiful person she knew, inside and out, and she didn’t deserve anything less than being happy. “I’m sure he does. How couldn’t he?”

“What if he doesn’t love me?”

“Love will come with time,” Nina walked up to her to take her hands in hers with a reassuring smile. “Everything will turn out for the best. You have to believe that.”

She felt relieved as Agnese nodded, worry starting to fade from her expression. Truth be told, even Nina didn’t fully believe her own words. She couldn’t be sure that Tommy would grow to love her cousin, nor that they would have a happy marriage; she couldn’t be sure that the war that would follow with Sabini would end well for them. But she said what Agnese needed to hear, because she didn’t have the heart to to make her fears seem even more real.

“Thank you, Nina.” Agnese whispered, wrapping her arms around her. When Nina awkwardly returned the embrace, patting her on the back, her cousin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. It was no secret that Nina wasn’t big on physical affection, but for a few selected people - that she didn’t have the courage to push away - she brought herself to tolerate it. At least she tried.

“I need to help my mum with lunch,” the brown-haired girl said, breaking the hug to grab the basket full of dry clothes. “She’ll have my head if I don’t.”

“You’d better go, then.”

As Agnese walked back to her house, Nina finished hanging the laundry, humming a little song to herself. She tried to keep her mind busy with futile thoughts, like what Winston might be doing in that moment, what she would eat for lunch, which book she would start to read after finishing the one she was currently reading. She thought about anything and everything in order to keep her mind off Tommy, Agnese and their departure, off her father and what he had told her that day in his study, off the uncertainty about how her life would turn out. It was a nice day, and she didn’t want to plague herself with such worries. However, in the back of her mind, all of that was still present, poisoning even the nicest of thoughts.

When she turned around, the figure of a man leaning against the wall of the house made her flinch. Stefano Spinietta was standing there in silence, observing her, and she had to fight the urge to ask him how long he had been staring at her. “What are you doing here?” She frowned, collecting herself.

“Business meeting. Your father gave me permission to spend some time with you, while he talks with mine,” he explained, pushing himself away from the wall.

A scowl formed on Nina’s face, and a new wave of irritation ran through her, this time directed at her father. All that speech about him wanting her to make the decision for herself was, indeed, just speech. Words he had said to keep her nice and quiet as he indirectly pushed her down the path he had charted for her. “What makes you think I want to spend time with you?”

Stefano’s lips curled in his ever-present grin, as if he found great amusement in her reactions. But that was exactly the point, to some extent. It had become a game to him, some sort of dark, twisted game. The more she rejected him, the more stubborn he became. Something that had started years ago as a mere interest, had slowly taken a different turn. He wanted her, he had been wanting her since she had drawn a knife at his throat. She was carved under his skin just like the scar her blade had left on his neck. There was something about her. Maybe it was her defiance, her refusal to bend, to mould herself into what she should be. He could make her. He could smother the flames of her fierceness and turn her into a quiet pretty thing. “Why do you always have to be so hostile?” He asked her, squinting his eyes.

His question made Nina’s annoyance grow even more. As if he had no clue of how much he had pestered her all those years. Now he had the courage to act all innocent, to play the part of the nice, polite guy who was just courting a girl he liked. He might’ve fooled everyone with that act, but he had never fooled her. “You asked my father his blessing to marry me.” She snapped, taking some steps in his direction. “Did you really think he’d say yes?”

“He never said no.”

“I did.”

Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, once again refusing to be the first to cave in. But this time it didn’t take Nina any effort to keep her eyes on him. She wasn’t a naive seventeen-year-old anymore. Now she knew what it was that he wanted from her. And his gaze didn’t intimidate her anymore.

“Listen to me, Stefano, and listen to me carefully, because I’m not going to repeat myself,” she said in a low voice, coming even closer to him. “You disgust me. You and all your kind,” she spelled out, making sure to emphasise each word. “And I’d much rather jump in front of a train than marrying you.”

Stefano didn’t say anything, at first. He just clenched his jaw, and his hands balled into fists by his side. Then he broke into a half-smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, trying not to let his wounded ego show. “I’ve been nice to you, and yet you keep on insulting me.”

This time it was him who got closer, towering over Nina. His eyes darkened, and he looked at her with such contempt that for a moment she had the impression he might hit her. With a quick, sudden movement, he grasped her jaw, and before she had the time to react, he turned to push her against the wall. She looked up at him, trying not to show an ounce of fear as her heart increased its speed.

“My patience has limits. And you shouldn’t forget who you’re talking to,” Stefano gritted out through clenched teeth, digging his fingers in her cheeks. His whole body shook with anger, and the mask of politeness he always hid behind began to fall apart. “You’re playing with fire.”

The same uncontrollable rage that years ago gave Nina the courage to point a knife at him now gave her the strength to stomp on his foot, making him hiss and take a step back. Taking advantage of his distraction, she darted forward, but as soon as he tried to escape, Stefano forcefully slammed her against the wall again, holding her in place by the throat. A sharp sting of pain flashed through her spine at the impact with the cold surface, and a whimper escaped her lips as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Fury flared in Stefano’s dark eyes, but then something changed in his expression. His pupils dilated, and he seemed to lose any kind of control over his actions as his hand left her throat to slowly wander down her body.

An overwhelming sense of panic started to rise inside Nina. She wriggled, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Stop,” she raised her voice, but Stefano promptly covered her mouth with the other hand, pressing his body against hers. She squeezed her eyelids shut when his hand became more insistent, squeezing her small breast in a painful hold, then travelling down to her hipbone to keep her still with bruising force. His hot breath burned on her skin as he leaned over her, bringing his face closer to hers. Nina tried to turn her head in response, but the hand he still had on her mouth wouldn’t allow it. She emitted a muffled sound, bringing her hands to his chest to push him away, but he was too strong, and twice her size. All her desperate efforts to put some space between them were useless. He was a rabid animal, a wild beast devoid of any rational thinking as he ground against her, trying to slide his filthy hand under her skirt. Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, and her whole body stiffened under this touch. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around in her head, endless, confusing, as if she couldn’t exactly register what was happening.

Then he stopped. Much to Nina’s surprise, Stefano suddenly seemed to come to himself, and he took his hand off her mouth. But there wasn’t a hint of guilt, or regret, in his eyes. On the contrary, he looked almost satisfied. And then she realised. He had been in command of his actions the whole time. “What, you don’t talk anymore?” He asked provocatively.

Nina’s wide eyes rested on Stefano in shock. The lump in her throat kept on growing and growing, making it impossible for her to utter a single sentence. She swallowed, trying to regain some kind of control over her emotions, to force herself to speak, and when she did, she faked a confident tone. However, the trembling in her voice betrayed her fear. “Once my family hears about this, you’ll-”

“I didn’t do anything you didn’t want, love,” he interrupted her, furrowing his brows, his face assuming a perplexed expression.

“What…” she batted her eyelashes in confusion, her voice barely above a whisper. “No, I didn’t...” the words died in her throat as the awareness of his implications started to set in.

Stefano leaned in, bringing his hand to her cheek to caress it with fake tenderness, and a terrible smile made its way on his face. “Who do you think they’ll believe?”

Nina shook her head, a feeling of helplessness she had never felt before taking over her. She just wanted him to leave. She wanted him to take his hands off of her. She wanted to kick him, to scream at him, to dig her nails in his face deeply enough to make him bleed, and yet all she could do was look at him in silence.

But then someone must’ve heard her prayers, because Stefano was abruptly pulled away from her. It was as if some kind of supernatural gust of wind had ripped him away from her body, freeing her from the heavy weight that had her pressed against the stone surface. Except that it wasn’t some supernatural force. The person who had grabbed Stefano by the collar of his shirt was very much human.

“The fuck are you doing?” Tommy growled, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had on the man. Stefano, not understanding a word he had said, just raised his hands, as if to show that he meant no harm.

Tommy had recognised the guy. He was the one they had met two weeks ago in the city, the one who had given him a bad feeling as soon as they had met. He couldn’t explain the pure rage he had felt when he caught him holding Nina against a wall. Her scared, helpless expression was all it took for him to see red and launch at the Italian man. The thought of what could’ve happened if the meeting with the Ferrantes and the Spiniettas had finished just a bit too late made his skin crawl. Still holding him by the collar, Tommy raised his fist, driven by the sudden urge to break his nose, but before he could land the blow, Nina’s voice stopped him.

“Don’t!” She exclaimed, causing him to look in her direction. “He’s Spinietta’s son,” she frantically explained, getting a bit closer, but still keeping herself at safe distance.

Tommy shifted his eyes on the Italian man again, his fist still in the air, and pondered for a few seconds. Although Stefano couldn’t understand Nina’s words, he probably had a vague idea of what she had said, because the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he stared at Tommy steadily. Nina held her breath, her heart skipping a beat at the Italian’s implicit provocation. Tommy was really close to doing something that might put him in a dangerous situation, and it seemed like Stefano was doing everything in his power to encourage him. It was part of his fun, of his sick little game.

Feeling his hands itch even more, Tommy charged again, nostrils flaring, almost letting his impulse win. Fuck Spinietta, he thought to himself. But he was not in Small Heath. Begrudgingly, he lowered his hand and let the guy go with a violent push, making him stumble backwards. “Fuck off,” he snarled, pointing towards the path that led to the main garden to get his message across.

Nina sighed in relief, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because Tommy had made the right choice, or because that situation was over. Stefano took the time to straighten his shirt with unsettling composure. Without saying another word and keeping on watching them, he walked past them, his wicked eyes shining with amusement.

The adrenaline started to wear off, leaving Nina in a growing state of dizziness. The panic, the disgust, the anger. All of that became a single, indistinct mass aiming to engulf her and suffocate her. Her ears started to ring, and she had to fight the instinct to cover them and scream at the top of her lungs.

“Are you alright?” Tommy’s voice came to her ears, snapping her out of her trance.

“Yes.” She nodded, blinking a few times. Now aware of her surroundings, she felt as if she was re-entering her body after rising out of it, and the reality of what had happened was crashing on her. Bile raised in her throat, and she knew that if she had had something in her stomach, she would’ve thrown up. “Yes I’m alright.”

“Nina, you’re shaking,” Tommy noted with a hint of worry in his voice, his own heart still racing in his chest.

“No, no I’m fine,” she insisted, turning her face to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She tightly crossed her arms over her chest, hoping that her hands would stop trembling. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” He shook his head, tentatively reaching out to hear. He was approaching her slowly, almost with apprehension, with his palm open, like one would do with a scared stray cat. “Come here.”

Nina hesitated for a while, torn between what she needed and what she was supposed to do, instinct and reason endlessly fighting. For once, she chose to act without thinking. Cautiously, she pulled Tommy into a hug, resting her head against his chest. Hit by an implacable wave of tenderness, he gently wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. It didn’t make sense, but having her safe in his arms brought him a sense of calmness and security, and his tense body began to relax.

The warmth of his body, his scent, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat, the unfamiliar softness he was showing her; the combination between all of that gave life to a feeling Nina had never felt before, and she couldn’t put a name to it. Between all of that, she was relieved by the awareness that, at least for that moment, she didn’t need to be strong. Tears began to spill out, and her facade fell for the first time.

When a suffocated sob escaped her lips, shaking her slender shoulders, Tommy’s heart painfully clenched in his chest. His hand found the back of her head, and he started to soothingly run his fingers through her soft dark hair. He wanted to say something, but he knew that there was nothing he could say that would make it better. So he held her tighter, as if he could shield her from harm with the sole strength of his arms.

“Breathe, love,” he whispered when he noticed that, in an attempt to hold back her sobs, she had tensed up a bit too much. “Breathe.”

Nina took a deep breath, focusing on Tommy’s deep voice and the delicate motion of his fingers through her hair.

“There you go,” he murmured encouragingly, feeling her calm down against him. She sniffled, snuggling even closer, and, once again, Tommy was overwhelmed by the need to protect her.

They couldn’t care less if someone saw them. In that moment, their embrace was the only thing that mattered.

Laying on her side with her knees drawn up, Nina stared at the shadows created by the small lamp on her bedside table. She could still feel the heaviness of Stefano’s hands on her, the burning of his hot breath on her skin, the suffocating smell of his cologne. She only wanted to get rid of those hands, that breath, that smell. She would gladly rip off her whole skin if it meant to forget.

She hated herself for allowing him to make her feel small, weak, for he had made it quite clear that was what he wanted. Because even though for a moment he had indulged in the temptation, he wouldn’t actually dare go through with it, not in her house. His purpose was to show her that he could overpower her at any time.

But then came feeling of being wrapped in Tommy’s arms, of being pressed against his strong frame, the feeling she had been desperately trying to give a name to. Until it occurred to her. Safe. She had felt safe.

A soft knock on the door of her bedroom pulled her out of the vortex of thoughts. She sat up on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “Come in,” she said, but her voice was so feeble that she doubted the person on the other side had heard her. Still, the door opened, and in the dim, warm light, Tommy’s figure appeared on the doorstep.

He had never been in her room, but somehow it was exactly like he had imagined it. Ivory-coloured walls covered in a pattern of small flowers, dark wooden furniture, lace curtains. Handwritten sheets of paper scattered all over the desk, along with pens and pencils. It was bit messy and full of books, and it smelled like her. A mixture of lavender and honey.

When that night Tommy had come out of his room, the first thing he noticed was the unsettling silence. No rattle of pots coming from downstairs. But a half-light shone through Nina’s bedroom door, and he found himself desperately needing to know how she was. She had been avoiding everyone the whole day.

“I just wanted to check up on you,” his deep voice came out in a low sound, and it held some kind of uncertainty. He wasn’t sure that going to her had been a good idea. Maybe she didn’t want to see him, maybe knocking on her door was too much.

His doubts faded when the ghost of a smile formed on her face, and she motioned for him to come in. He carefully closed the door behind him, then went to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. A vice-like grip held his stomach when he noticed her puffy eyes and red cheeks. How many times had she cried?

“You’re paler than usual,” Nina teased him to ease the tension, but her voice didn’t hold the bantering tone he had grown used to hear. “You should get some sleep.”

Tommy half-smiled, shifting his gaze on the floor for a moment. But instead of spitting out a retort - contrary to Nina’s expectations - he just nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded.

A sigh escaped Nina’s lips, and she nervously fiddled with her own fingers. He was walking on eggshells, and she didn’t like it, not even a bit. “Please, stop treating me like that.”

“Like what?” He furrowed, looking at her again.

“Like I might break at any moment.”

Tommy said nothing. He could see why she didn’t want to be treated any differently, but she did look like she would break. Not once had she shown a single shred of vulnerability until that day, and it was disarming. Truth was, he didn’t know how to act.

“I’ll forget it ever happened,” she spoke again, this time with resolution, but she didn’t sound fully convinced of what she was saying. “And you should do the same. No one can know about it.”

“You should tell-”

“No,” she firmly interrupted him, Stefano’s veiled threat still echoing in her ears. “I can’t,” she continued, her voice becoming softer.

Tommy suddenly remembered what she told him a week earlier at the beach, and everything became clear. It was all it took to make his blood boil again. The room went quiet, but the silence was soon broken by a faint rustle of sheets, as Nina left her spot to sit closer to him. Honey and lavender filled his nostrils, and he had to restrain himself from inhaling deeply, eager to feel more. More than the light brushing of their arms, separated by the thin fabric of his undershirt. They were barely touching, and yet his skin burned. As hard as he tried to suffocate that feeling, to extinguish that fire, the flames kept on flaring, higher than before. He couldn’t fight it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and that feather-like contact was enough to send sparks of electricity through his body. “Promise me,” she whispered, “you won’t tell anyone.”

Tommy turned to look at her, and the proximity allowed him to spot a small scratch on her cheek. Without thinking, he delicately ran his finger on it, and he was almost surprised by the feeling of her soft skin under his rough hand. Slowly, even hesitantly, his hand went to cup the side of her face, and he gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “I promise.”

Tommy’s hoarse voice, along with the warmth of his hand, sent shivers down Nina’s spine, and her pulse started to race. She couldn’t explain how the closeness of his strong body was making her feel, nor the effect his masculine scent had on her. Aftershave, cigarettes, and a hint of musk. And she couldn’t help but wonder: if she pressed further into him, if she let herself be held by him again, would it lift the weight off her chest? Would it take away the pain, the revulsion, the shame? Would his touch be enough to replace Stefano’s hands?

When he felt Nina unconsciously get closer, Tommy closed his eyes, drowning in her scent, and he could swear there was fire running through his veins. It was as if some unknown force was pulling him towards her, drawing him nearer, and when her soft lips brushed against his, his mind went blank. Every cell in his body was begging him to give in.

No. It wasn’t right.

Nina was vulnerable, too vulnerable, and probably unable to make any conscious decisions. He couldn’t take advantage of her like that. It took all his strength to move away and bring her in to press a kiss on her forehead instead. He lingered there for a few seconds, savouring the moment. When he let his hand fall from her face, the warmth left him, and it seemed to him that his fingers had sharply gotten cold.

Feeling her confused eyes following him, Tommy got up and walked to the door, ignoring the invisible string that was pulling him in the opposite direction. He couldn’t stay in that room any longer. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself.

“Goodnight, Nina.”

NEXT PART

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x oc

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mgparker · 1 year

Text

recruitment gone… right?

platonic!steven grant/marc spector x teenage!reader

summary: who in their right mind sends a teenager to recruit a dangerous vigilante all on their own? oh sam and fucking bucky.

warnings: teenage avenger reader, inaccuracies, clueless steven being an overall mess and a huge cap fan, violence, swearing, gen z shit? perhaps idk, 2k word count

request: ‘can you do a father figure Marc Spector/Steven Grant x A teenage avenger who was sent to recruit him? I imagine the reader being a typical Gen Z kid with a sarcastic sense of humor, but meaning well.’

notes: loosely based off this request i got MONTHS ago. i’m so sorry it’s taken forever this has literally been in my drafts for a year. not a whole lot of father figure-ing going on but i think it’s a funny little neutral recruitment blurb/one-shot. enjoy. also not sure if this is gen-z enough but i was not going to make this obnoxiously “relatable”

“It shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Sam, I want you to think about what you just said. Then think about who you’re talking to. And then… consider the possibility that your plan might actually work if you send Barnes.”

A distant voice shouted through the speaker of your phone. “No can do, kid. Recruitment is below my paygrade now!”

You rolled your eyes, shuffling down a busy sidewalk in the midst of London. “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I’m talking to the big champs now.”

You heard Sam chuckle in amusement, and you could imagine him shaking his head at your words. “You know what you gotta do. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you can get back to base. Kick some ass with the big champs.”

“Yeah, yeah,” it was time to get serious. “Got it, Wilson. I’ll check in later.”

Instead, it was Bucky who answered. “You’ve got this, squirt!”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t even give Sam a chance to get a word in before you were ending the call, stuffing your phone into your pocket and narrowing in on the bus stop ahead.

This is stupid, you thought as you waited a safe distance away. You couldn’t risk your target spotting you before you could properly assess them. Who in their right mind sends a teenager—a freaking teenager—to recruit one of England’s most dangerous vigilantes?

You’re not scared—you were far more than capable to defend yourself, even against the famed Moon Knight—but it feels out of your way, something you’ve never been asked to do. But of course, as an Avenger, this was your duty.

You couldn’t help but think of this whole thing as a personal attack. With Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson assuming the mantle of interim leaders of the Avengers (or rather what remains of them), this whole mission seemed like their version of a practical joke.

Those two loved you with all their heart, you didn’t doubt it, but they take the role of “fun uncles” a bit too seriously.

But anyway, this recruitment... This isn’t fun. Not in the slightest.

This is like being a salesperson.

Shudder.

Finally, you catch sight of your target—Steven Grant, an extremely sleepy, stumbling gift-shoppist who had appeared at the bus stop surprisingly early for once.

He seems gentle enough, guard mostly down, clutching his bag with a paranoid grip but that was the only thing tense about him. He’s technically older than you, not ridiculously so, but a bit younger than Sam.

You watch as his lips start forming some words; it’s subtle, nothing anyone would really notice unless they were analyzing him piece by piece like you currently were.

Ah. You realized with a pleased smile. Steven Grant and Marc Spector are working together.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of the bus arriving, squeaking loudly as it stopped in the street.

Showtime.

There was a click in your brain, or that’s what it felt like at least, and a quick scanning of your surroundings made it easy to instantly blend in.

Steven Grant was having a decent morning. He actually woke up in time, ate a decent breakfast, and rushed out of the house with ten minutes to spare.

Even Marc had been pleasant this morning, making unusual small talk as Steven went about his business, getting ready for work.

And everything was well. Up until now—as he stood in the bus, trying to keep himself from falling asleep on the passengers around him, despite the extra shot of espresso he’d slipped into his drink this morning.

Steven.

He jolted awake, pulling his head away from a man’s shoulder with a small ‘sorry!’

But before he could doze off once more, something odd came over him. A strange tingling feeling, as if he was being watched.

It snapped the drowsiness right out of his system, eyeing everyone suspiciously.

You feel it too, don’t you? Something isn’t right.

“What—” He mumbled quietly, searching for the source but coming up emptyhanded.

There was nothing peculiar or odd about his fellow commuters.

So, he continued about his day, feeling that unsettling eye on him at all times but unaware as to its source.

It was only when his shift was over, that he was walking home, that he decided this charade had gone on for far too long.

Despite Marc’s pleas to let him front, Steven stopped in his dead tracks, away from any curious eyes.

“Oi, who’s there?”

Great job, Steven. If that isn’t the most cliché thing to say before the main character gets killed in a horror movie. Marc sighed.

“Shut up,” hissed Steven quietly. “You know I don’t watch horror movies—”

Steven blinked and suddenly you’re there, standing in front of him as if you’d been there the entire time.

“AH!”

The scream echoed down the alley, high-pitched and nearly startling you into a similar yelp.

But you were quite used to your presence spooking others, it’s a part of your abilities that you’d never been able to control.

Chest heaving and cheeks tinted with embarrassment, Steven gave you a suspicious glare.

“Oh, it’s—it’s just a kid,” he tried to brush off his embarrassing reaction.

You scoffed, a bruise to your ego. “Not just a kid.”

“Well, I know what I’m seeing,” Steven argued. “And you look like a child—“

“Firstly,” you’re staring at Mr. Knight’s suit, taken aback by the change in his appearance that you’d apparently triggered by startling him so bad. “I’m seventeen. Second, I thought you had a whole—“

You aimlessly motioned around your head in a sort of halo way, confusing the ever fuck out of Steven who just stood there blankly.

“A whole w-what?” He gaped, desperate to know what you— a complete stranger — had to say about his kickass suit.

“You know, a whole cape thing goin’ on.”

Ha! Colonel Sanders.

Steven wished there was a way to punch Marc.

“Now, you’re just talking about my lesser counterpart,” Steven shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he had just been offended to the core.

“Ouch, hard feelings?”

Steven pulled his lips to the side. “You could say that— wait. How do you know about—?”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” you interrupted. “I was sent here on behalf of an organization that is really interested in having you join our ranks. Normally, they’d send someone else but you’re stuck with me so—“

“What organization? What ranks? You’re hiring?” I guess we’re both interrupting each other now. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Even if the task was annoying, you wouldn’t be returning to base with a new recruit if you hit him with a bunch of attitude.

Patience was not your strongest virtue. “Not exactly. As soon as you put that blade down, maybe we can talk some more.”

Steven looked down with a jolt, as if he hadn’t realized he’d been white-knuckling the weapon since you appeared.

Slowly, he started to store the blade before Marc cut in hastily. Hello? Are you seriously letting a kid tell you what to do? A kid who appeared out of thin air?

Steven caught Marc’s glare in the reflection of a small puddle, the road damp from London’s regular showers. He looked much more menacing than Steven, even with his half-assed suit.

He hadn’t said it yet, but Steven knew Marc was aching to take over. And it was probably the smartest option- Steven wasn’t the best at confrontation.

“Don’t hurt a minor please,” he pleaded quietly. Marc narrowed his eyes at the notion. But he nodded his head dismissively.

With a sigh, Steven allowed Marc to front.

All the while, you minded your own business as well as you could, staring at the sky suspiciously. You wouldn’t be surprised if Sam had sent Redwing to spy on you. Not because he didn’t trust you of course, but because him and Bucky loved to get a laugh in whenever they could.

“Alright, let’s cut the bullshit. Who sent you? Harrow?”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash from how fast your head snapped forward.

The suit was different, cape billowing behind him, and eyes even whiter than before. They seemed to glow-- no, they were glowing-- and glare into the depths of your soul. You were almost intimidated.

“Who the hell is Harrow? Absolutely not. Since you asked so nicely, I was sent on behalf of Captain America.”

Captain America? He gripped the crescent blade tighter.

He considered your words carefully, staring at you with the utmost suspicion. Lip curling up, head already starting to shake in disapproval, annoyance consuming him altogether—

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s- that’s amazing!”

You couldn’t help the smirk on your face. “It is pretty cool,” you shrugged thirty minutes later, chewing through a particularly large bite of your warm bagel. You were sat in the corner of a small, dingy bakery. What it lacked in aesthetics, the bakery definitely made up for in flavor.

“Do you think you could maybe, like I dunno, introduce us?” Steven asked with an excitement that barely kept him still in his seat.

You’re surprised he hasn’t gathered the attention of everyone else in the bakery, but for once, you’re not the one worried about being on the opposite end of a judgmental eye.

Being an Avenger in these post-Blip days isn’t as easy as it was before… stack that on top of being a ‘child’ and it’s the perfect recipe for disaster.

‘They’re too young!’

‘They can barely contain their abilities!’

‘The Avengers already ruined our lives before! Why should we trust a child?!’

Even if you denied it a million times, there was always a small part of you that craved their approval. Their vote of trust…Maybe this mission would help with that, once they learned that it was you who got the infamous bad-guy-turned-good Moon Knight to join the world’s mightiest superheroes…

Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly you who got Steven to willingly agree. But there was absolutely no way in hell you were ever telling Sam that it was his pull that got the deal sealed.

“Sure,” you smiled back at Steven who just about died at your response. The coffee in his mug jostled out and splashed onto the table. “Big Captain America fan?”

“As of late,” Steven grinned. “So, when do we leave? Is—” He gasped suddenly and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is Captain America coming to pick me up?”

Jesus Christ. Marc groaned. This was a fucking mistake.

Steven ignored him and looked at you expectantly.

You glanced up from your phone where you’d been rapidly typing something up. You did a double-take as you processed his question.

“Absolutely,” you deadpanned. “He’ll send a car for you. Probably meet you at the airport with his private jet.”

Steven’s eyes grew wider with every word. Marc was scowling in the reflection of the window behind you.

“Bollocks...” he breathed, staring down at his lap in disbelief.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I don’t even know what to say. I mean, who—who would’ve thought they would send a seventeen-year-old to recruit little ole me—”

You saw something click in his brain. He looked up with glazed over irritation. “...you’re... you’re not being serious.”

“Of course, I’m not being serious, Grant. I got here alone and I’m more than capable of getting us back to base. You can save the fangirling for when we finally touch down alright? He’ll meet us there.”

Steven pursed his lips at you.

Rolling your eyes, you finished your text and locked your phone with a click. “I’m being serious this time.”

Excitement poured into his gaze again. You’re not sure how Marc feels about it, only that after explaining yourself in very, very specific detail, he was open to the discussion. But it must be a mutual decision at this point. You doubt Steven would’ve gotten this far if his counterpart was fighting against it.

“Marc is on board?”

“Absolutely.”

Don’t lie. I’m regretting this more and more each second.

Steven continued. “Should I... should I pack my bags?”

“Yeah, that’d be a good idea,” you agreed nonchalantly.

“... now?”

You tapped your phone and glanced at the time. “If you want to make our flight in less than an hour, I’d say so.”

“Bollocks!” Steven exclaimed, nearly knocking the table over on his mad dash out the door.

You snickered as he slammed into a lady on his way out.

—————> the big champs + bucky

you: i’m expecting a promotion when i get back. and for you two to get off my ass already

redwing’s bitch: I told you it wasn’t going to be too hard. Proud of you, kid

you: 😐

you: thanks i guess... expect a meet and greet when we get there. he’s probably going to be up your ass. steven’s your biggest fan. marc not so much.

you: and don’t worry bucky, they didn’t mention you at all <3

bucky bitchy barnes: fuck off. I have a fanbase. It’s on tweet.

you: wtf is tweet

bucky bitchy barnes: Don’t fuck with me you know what tweet is.

you: my brother in christ... you mean to say twitter :,)

bucky bitchy barnes: I hate, no DETEST, your generation.

ha ha

— elle <3

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thursdayinspace · 25 days

Text

I was going to do a complete season 1 review for the rewatch, but instead I did a close reading of this scene from 1x24 The Erlenmeyer Flask, because I can’t get it out of my head, I love it so much.

Scully: Wait a second. Mulder? I just want to say that I was wrong. Mulder: It's all right, don't worry about it. Scully: No, um, if you'd had listened to me, we wouldn't be here right now. I should know by now to trust your instincts. Mulder: Why? Nobody else does. Scully: You know, I've always held science as sacred. I've always put my trust in the accepted facts. And what I saw last night . . . for the first time in my life, I don't know what to believe. Mulder: Well, whatever it is you do believe, Scully, when you walk into that room? Nothing sacred will hold.

This is a big moment for various reasons. It’s a defining moment for their partnership. This is almost a summary of the season.

Possibly the biggest thing for their partnership is her admitting she was wrong and Mulder’s reaction to it. We don’t know this, but from all the context we have of his life at this point, it’s safe to assume that Mulder doesn’t get apologies very often. “I just want to say that I was wrong.” It’s important to her to let him know that. And that alone says something about the way she sees him. He’s generally seen as crazy and paranoid. But not by her. More than that, she sees him as a person with feelings that can be hurt, and she wants to make sure he knows that wasn’t her intention. “I should know by now to trust your instincts,” that is a huge thing to say and has to be something that needs a minute to sink in for him. She trusts him. Which is something he knows already to an extent, but to hear it said that openly after how vehemently they disagreed on this is a different thing.

In that context it’s worth looking at their exchange after visiting Doctor Berube. She tells him: “I mean, this has reached the point of absurdity, Mulder. We're out here on half a hunch off of a cryptic phone call chasing down a clue that's based on nothing but speculation.” She voices her mistrust of Deep Throat and Mulder asks her “You think he does it because he gets off on it?” To which she replies: “No. I think he does it because you do.” And then she walks off, effectively ending that argument, she doesn’t have anything more to say. She’s made her point. And to come back from that the way they do in this scene, that is a real testament to how much respect they have for each other. Yeah, he was right. And yeah, he gets that she has to ask the uncomfortable questions.

Just the fact alone that she thinks he deserves an apology is a lot; she doubted him and she’s sorry for that because she knows he’s not crazy. They’re partners and they work as partners. She’s not there with him right now because he asked her. She’s there because she genuinely wants to be and genuinely believes that his explanations of the facts hold value and that she takes them seriously. And nobody ever takes him seriously. He points that out to her right away.

In fact, his whole interaction with her in this scene shows a vulnerability that needs the context of the rest of the season to be fully understood. He could say all of these things to anybody else, word for word, and it would simply be the equivalent of a shrug and a “fine, let’s move on.” But with everything they have been through and with the way we’ve seen them opening up to each other, this means something very different.“It's alright, don't worry about it.” I mean. Shit. The thing is, it probably is alright on the surface. It is a way to shrug it off. Not being taken seriously has to hurt, but he’s used to it, so really, she shouldn’t worry about it, she’s there now and that’s all that matters. But it’s not all that matters to her.

His reaction to her telling him that she should know to trust his instincts? “Why? Nobody else does.” The way he says this, it doesn’t sound like he’s testing her. It sounds a little bitter, but that bitterness is not directed at her. After years of being at best ignored, more often ridiculed, of course he doesn’t have a more positive reaction to something like this at hand. But I don’t think there can be any doubt that it means something to him. She smiles after he says this, and that also says something: she doesn’t count herself among the people who dismiss him and she gets that he’s not dismissing her. She sees the self-deprecating humor in his response. She also hears the “thank you for not being one of them” in his response. His face stays sincere. He isn’t challenging her, but he needs to know why she’s sticking around. It’s such a loaded response. You can hear a lot of things in it if you want, which makes it such a well-written exchange: he is a little confused as to why she’s sticking around, he’s thanking her for being there, he’s bitter about and/or used to nobody believing him, I mean, hell, it isn’t even impossible to find a flirty note in there. In any case, he’s downplaying her apology not because he doesn’t appreciate it, but because he didn’t see it coming since most likely nobody has ever bothered or seen the need before. At the same time, he’s telling her he trusts her too.

Scully has had her beliefs challenged, and she shows right here and right now how much of a scientist she really is. She is ready to admit that one theory hasn’t worked, so she is prepared to examine a different one that looks more promising. This is one of her core traits: she never clings to her theories out of some sense of vanity. She doesn’t have to be right. She just wants to understand, and she needs facts to do so. Poking holes in things is part of science, to see how well it holds up. It’s about getting as close to the truth as they can. And with the evidence to support Mulder’s arguments, she can be convinced to have a closer look at his theory. She says: “I've always held science as sacred. I've always put my trust in the accepted facts.” And that’s what is being challenged here. This is seriously stretching the boundaries of what she accepted to be fact. But she doesn’t stubbornly cling to what she believes. It’s a process, and she respects that as much as he does. Their arguing is never just for the sake of it.

Scully says: “For the first time in my life, I don't know what to believe.” How big is that? But this is something that reiterates and reinforces something we have seen throughout the season again and again: they trust each other. She isn’t afraid to admit her insecurity to him. They’re faced with something she can’t wrap her head around, when knowing things is kind of her job? She makes herself very vulnerable with this statement. His response picks up on that and tells her she’s right to question everything: “Well, whatever it is you do believe, Scully, when you walk into that room? Nothing sacred will hold.” He’s telling her it’s okay, it is all a bit hard to believe. He’s well aware of that. This is not trying to convince somebody to try mayo instead of ketchup with their fries. This is about the fundamentals of her worldview. He does not expect her to be convinced. He is sure she will be impressed. But he accepts her doubt, he always does. “Whatever it is you do believe.” No pressure, but here’s a cool thing that will definitely give you some answers. Unfortunately, that doesn’t happen, but that’s a different story.

This little conversation between them is such a pivotal moment. It truly shows who they have become individually and as partners. It wraps up the season very nicely and at the same time cements the foundation of their partnership for season two. Because they can have a conversation like this one and understand what the other one is saying, their pining after each other at the beginning of the next season makes sense. They’ve become very important to each other, they show each other their vulnerable sides, they take care of each other. This little conversation sums that up perfectly.

#txf #the x files #x files meta #msr #mulder and scully #I'm so far behind on posts I've already finished s2 in the rewatch #but I seriously love this and needed to ramble on about it #thursday's x-files rewatch

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something-about-sunflowers · 2 years

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Maybe this is a controversial take (it shouldn’t be, its in the text) but.

People really need to come to terms with the fact that Edward ‘loves a good maim‘, ‘made some poor bloke eat his own toes for a laugh’, ‘thoroughly enjoyed whippies/yardies/turtle vs crab/Calico Jack’s Whole Deal’, ‘Blackbeard always wins and I don’t even have to try and I’m bored of that’, ‘first instinct is to go for the gun’, ‘gouged an eye out of some lad’s skull and called it an anecdote’, ‘set a ship on fire with people still inside and called it a technicality’, ‘capable of becoming the Kraken’ Teach enjoys violence. (No moral judgements here, violence is rarely taken seriously by the narrative and he’s literally a pirate)

On the flip side: Israel ‘flashy sword work without so much as scratching Stede’, ‘concerned about the loss of lives of the Queen Anne’s crew’, ‘offers a quick death for Stede to Edward’, ‘loser is banished from the ship’, ‘negotiated for only Stede to be killed despite the rest of the pirates on the ship’, ‘takes away rations instead of flogging for insubordination’, ‘wants Blackbeard because people don’t fight Blackbeard’ Hands does not, actually, enjoy violence. He puts on a lot of bluster but ultimately everything he does is meant to keep himself (and Edward) safe, which requires a reputation for violence but necessitates a lack of actual serious violence (for the sake of violence at least).

Ed likes violence because its enrichment for his perpetually under-stimulated ADHD mind, he is the tiger with the meat pumpkin. Izzy doesn’t like violence because he just wants to survive and its so much harder to do that if you’re getting in needless fights.

I don’t necessarily agree that Izzy is a cut and dry masochist, it might be the only way he knows how to connect (intricate rituals and all that) but I don’t think its something he’d go for first if he knew there were other options that were safe to want (its why he’s so perplexed by Lucius, who has the connections without the violence), but even if you do think he is: its a different kind of violence. Its not violence for the sake of violence. Its an exchange of trust. ‘I trust you to hurt me but not to harm me.’

Idk I feel like I’m always repeating myself in my meta posts lmao, but like. I can’t just not say something and let people continue to be wrong about fictional characters on the internet can I? lmfao That’d be awful.

#the dork is being a dork #izzy hands #edward teach #when i tell you how fuckin hesitant i am to tag ed lmfao #i should not feel like im poking a hornets nest because im tagging everyone's favorite woobie 'not technically' murderous pirate #talking about how‚ canonically‚ he is actually pretty murderous and he's happy to be #(i LIKE ed and i like him violent! but he's fucked up! not uniquely fucked up and i like him BECAUSE he's fucked up anyway but he is!)#and because im also saying that everyone's favorite scapegoat isn't actually the devil in the form of a 5 foot nothing man with a great rack #and a daddy kink #anyway this isn't in response to anything #just something i've been thinking about lately

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shiny-jr · 1 year

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I saw you were allowing us to toss in ideas for the platonic!yandere staff for TWST and I'm overjoyed, haha. A thought I had: How willing would they let you be around the actual main cast, seeing as how you have to get into shenanigans with them as demanded by the plot but it puts you in possible (and actual) harm's way? Would they allow it, confident they can step in and handle things? Would they refuse to let you go near them at all to keep you safe? Who just. Automatically bans Deuce and Ace from going near you.

Gonna be rating them on a scale of one to five. One being would straight out ban students from seeing you (if they could), five being you have the most freedom to see other students.

Crowley is a 4/5. Although he would like to think that he's a little stricter, he's not. He claims that it's due to his benevolence that you are allowed to see your friends, but really you know it's because he's far too careless and actually busy (sometimes). But when he spots any students getting particularly close to you, he doesn't even have to do much. All he has to do is mention it to the rather stricter... staff members. But after a dangerous event like an overblot, he tries to limit your interactions with them, he really does try, but he’s far too soft on you and can’t say no to your wishes for long.

Divus is a 1/5. Forget your friends and the school, he has tried to take you out of the school, multiple times actually. If it were up to him, he’d have you homeschooled or at least placed in an educational institution where there aren’t so many reckless and hazardous individuals. The only reason he hasn’t taken you out of Night Raven College is because the other staff members refuse to let him just take you. If Crewel just took you, you’d always be with him and none of the other staff members would get to see you everyday like they do now. And the only reason he hasn’t straight out told students to get away from you, is because he would then be in hot water with the school board. But he’s literally this close to imposing a ban on certain individuals.

Vargas is a 3/5. He’s a bit more relaxed, but he’ll take any threat to you seriously. And if that threat is from another student, he’ll run them ragged during his class so much so that they won’t even have time to even think about interacting with you. After his class, they’ll be so tired that they won’t even have the energy to talk to you. This is one of those times where he’ll work cooperatively with the other staff members, with them providing a list of individuals that need to be worn out in order to stay away from you. Vargas trusts you to be able to defend yourself, after all, he’s taught you the best! But he doesn’t trust these brutes.

Trein is a 2/5. Thankfully, he isn’t as strict as Crewel, but he still is pretty strict in his own right. During his class, he keeps a close eye on students, watching to see if they try to whisper to you or even so much as glance in your direction. Once he spots them doing something like that, he’ll call them out, and in their surprise he’ll throw the hardest questions at them until they get one wrong and lower their head. When you’re away, he’ll allow his familiar Lucius to trail after you and report anyone else to Trein so he could add them to the very lengthy list of names he’ll be submitting to Vargas in the afternoon. Perhaps he’ll assign them even more work, just to be doubly sure they do not have the time nor the energy to pester you.

Sam is a 5/5. You have the most freedom with him by far. He doesn’t tell you who you should or shouldn’t talk to, of course he has his own list of names but he doesn’t divulge that information. Yes, he trusts you, but like Vargas, he doesn’t trust all the students. But he does trust himself and his helpful shadows. Sam is pretty cunning too, so he’ll utilize this freedom he gives you to earn your affection and favoritism. It’s something he regularly flaunts during staff meetings, about how you go to him more often instead of the other teachers when you’re looking to hangout with friends. But all other students know by the look in Sam’s eyes when you’re back is turned, to be very cautious of what they do.

#shiny speaks #twst #twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst staff #platonic yandere #Dire Crowley #divus crewel #mozus trein #ashton vargas #sam #twst sam

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katnisspeetaprim · 1 year

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BTS Reaction; Their Idol Sister Passes Out (Maknae Line)

Maknae line version, hyung line on my masterlist!

Warnings: Female reader, passing out, anxiety

word count; 1505 M.list

Park Jimin

He was out of the country when the news reached him. It came in the form of a panicked phone call from your mom, who was basically sobbing down the phone to him.

Jimin was a bit of a mess himself after that, not being able to reach you and not even knowing your members contact details. He was in the dark.

It wasn’t until about a day later when you were finally able to get back to him.

‘Y/N! Oh my God, I was so worried!’ He’d picked up the phone on the first ring, having been keeping it at his side. You could hear the worry in his voice.

‘Mom called me in a panic and I didn’t know what to do!’

‘Jimin I’m fine, apparently I was just dehydrated....I’m resting now.’ Your voice was steady as you tried to keep calm for him, knowing that his head was still a mess judging by the tone of his voice.

‘You aren’t lying are you? Are you really feeling ok?’ He asked you in an accusatory tone, he obviously didn’t believe you but you couldn’t really blame him.

‘Yes Jimin I promise. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get back to you.’ You really weren’t lying when you said you were ok, but you had to admit that what happened had scared you a little, it being the first time you experienced something like that. Hearing how scared Jimin had been only made you realise how serious the situation could have been...

‘Ok if you say so..’ He let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Aish, I feel so bad that I can’t be there with you.’ You let out a tiny giggle at his words,

‘I’m not your baby sister anymore Jimin, I can take care of myself.’

‘Clearly.’ He scoffed. There was a beat before you both burst out laughing.

‘Ok point taken.’ You conceded before the line went silent for a moment.

‘Seriously though, if you ever need help I’ll be there! Even if you are too stubborn to realise you need it!’ You smiled to yourself, grateful at his kind words. Since you became a trainee your relationship with your brother had only become stronger, finally having something in common that you could bond over. That in mind, you shouldn’t have been surprised that he wanted to be there for you.

‘Thank you Jimin, I’ll remember that.’

Kim Taehyung

The two of you had just landed back in Seoul after taking a trip together while you both had time off. Somehow, your flight information had leaked and now the airport was filled with screaming fans.

Your face paled at the thought of being crowded. You had never been a fan on confined spaces or just being in crowds in general so you were on edge.

‘Oppa...’ You called out, unsure about the situation.

‘Don’t worry Y/N, just keep hold of me and our security will keep us safe.’ He said it so nonchalantly, having been in this situation many times before. You grasped tightly to the back of his hoodie as you all moved towards the exit.

‘Ready?’ Your security asked. Both you and Tae nodded, signalling for the security to open the doors, them immediately ushering the two of you forwards.

The amount of bodies and the volume of the screaming was instantly overwhelming for you. Taehyung had unfortunately gotten used to this treatment over the years, but this was all new to you.

The few members of security you had with you were no match for the amount of rumbustious fans that had turned up, all pushing forward to get a better look at the two of you.

You were extremely hot and dizzy, feeling panic start to creep up on you, this was too much.

‘Tae- I...’ You were shaking as you tried to speak.

‘Keep moving Y/N, we’re nearly out .’ He reached back to take your hand from his hoodie and into his instead. You tried you best to focus only on Taehyung in front of you, but the constant pushing, touching and screaming finally got to you. Black spots began to appear in your vision.

‘Oppa...’ Was all you could manage to say before everything went black.

‘Y/N!’

When you stirred awake, you found yourself leaning against Tae in the back of a car. He felt your movements beside him.

‘Why didn’t you tell me you get anxiety like that? We would have figured something out!’ He scolded you harshly. You looked away from him, ashamed.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be a burden...But I guess I still was anyway.’ He took in your sad expression before thinking on his next words.

‘You arent a burden, you being safe is all I care about.’ He paused for a second. ‘Have you seen a doctor about your anxiety?’ He asked carefully, not wanting to upset you more than you already were. You looked up at him with wide eyes before quickly shaking your head.

‘I’m too nervous to ask my manager about it..’

‘I’ll come with you!’ He spoke without hesitation. ‘As soon as we get back, and I promise we won’t take no for an answer.’ Your eyes welled up with tears, not quite believing his offer of help.

‘Thank you so much Tae!’ You pulled him into a tight hug.

‘I’m the best big brother I know.’

Jeon Jungkook

You’d been placed on a strict diet and exercise plan by your company. Still being relatively new to being a full time idol you didn’t argue.

Jungkook noticed right away that something was wrong when he came to join you at the gym. You were pushing yourself a lot more than usual and that coupled with hardly eating the past few days, spelled disaster.

‘Maybe you should take it easy today?’ Jungkook eyed you carefully as you swayed a little.

‘No! I need to look perfect for our comeback.’ Your voice started to waver, head becoming clouded.

‘Look perfect?’ He looked puzzled as he repeated your words back to himself, before his eyes widened in horror.

‘Y/N don’t tell me...’ He trailed off, not actually wanting to believe it. Jungkook knew the signs of a forced diet, having seen countless other idols battle the same issue.

You found yourself unable to answer him, your mouth becoming dry and palms all clammy, as you suddenly slumped forward.

Jungkook was quick in rushing forward to catch you in his arms and gently lowering you to the ground. You weren’t fully passed out but you felt extremely weak, barely able to move.

‘Y/N hey! Can you hear me!?’ You could hear Jungkook speaking above you, but you could only just about make out what he was saying.

‘Call an ambulance!’ He called to somebody out of view.

‘No- no hospital.’ You tried to plead, but your words fell on deaf ears. The last thing you remember was Jungkook, softly stroking your hair and whispering, ‘It’s gonna be ok.’ Over and over before you finally blacked out.

You awoke some time later in an uncomfortable hospital bed. Trying to sit up you found that you were attached to a drip, causing you to hiss at the sharp pain from the tug.

‘Take it easy will you?’ Your head shot to the right, to see Jungkook reaching over to stop you tugging on the IV.

‘Please don’t tell mom and day.’ You pleaded desperately with his. His eyes widened in disbelief.

‘Seriously!?’ He spit out. ‘That’s all you care about right now?’ He shook his head at you.

‘Please Jungkook! You know how hard I had to work to get them to agree to me becoming a trainee!’ You were desperate, not wanting all your hard work to be for nothing. He took a moment to think about what you had said. Of course he knew how hard you were working. The constant phone calls to him during your training period asking for advice confirmed that to him. Plus he knew what his parents were like. The moment they find out they would most likely demand you return home. He didn’t want that to happen. Not at all.

‘Ok.’ He relented. ‘I wont tell them.’ You let out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

‘Thank you.’

‘But as soon as you are better, we’re going to your manager together. This isn’t safe.’ He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he nodded to himself.

‘Ah... I don’t know if that’s a good idea..’ You trailed off, hand rubbing the back of your neck. You didn’t want to get in more trouble then you were sure you already were.

‘Hey.’ Jungkook reached his hand out to place on your arm.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure everything works out.’ You stared at him before nodding in response, biting your lip nervously. You had no idea what he was planning to do, but at the end of the day you trusted your big brother.

#bts #bts x reader #idol!au #idol!reader #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook'#imagine #reaction #scenario #one shot #smut #fluff #angst

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wolfmoonmusic · 10 months

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Calloused Hearts - 6

Summary: You're stuck. And you're tired of running.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Tidemaker!reader (though this chapter seriously lacks that. I promise we'll get back to it soon)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, mentions of blood and wounds, mentions of dead character, reader's depressing thoughts, not great writing, major cliffhanger, reader death (maybe?)

w/c: 1322

A/N: This isn't my best writing lol. But here we are!!! I am so sorry for how long it took. This story is an insight into reader's past, so there isn't much of the crows.

Chapter 6:

Let’s just say sometimes you’re too impulsive for your own good.

You were currently surrounded by armed men and some Grisha, in an alleyway, exhausted and out of breath from trying to escape this very group for the past hour.

You were out of practice.

A day ago, this seemed like an amazing idea.

Going to find Wylan, without any backup.

Just because you couldn’t stand being around Kaz anymore.

Not when his intentions were so damn unclear.

One day you feel like you’re everything to him and the next day he doesn’t even care?

It hurt like hell. And so despite your initial apprehension, you’d decided to go save Wylan and then leave.

You didn’t know what you wanted from Kaz anymore, but this definitely wasn’t it.

Now, stuck, with no help, 2 Inferni, a Squaller, a Heartrender, a bunch of angry gangsters and a very satisfied looking PR, you started regretting the “saving Wylan” part of your plan. Maybe you just leaving would’ve been enough to get Wylan back to the Crows safely.

“You should know better than to run from me, kid.”

You laughed, “You really think you can beat me Pekka?” You sounded way too confident for your own good.

Fake it ‘till you make it right?

“You’re largely outnumbered and up against some of the strongest Grisha. How you see yourself getting out of here alive is beyond my imagination”

You looked at the Grisha then, something dawning on you. You knew all of them.

“Pekka please. There’s a reason Kirigan is going through so much to get me back to the little palace.” You raised an eyebrow at the Heartrender then, smirking, “I’ve defeated all of them before.” You watched the Heartrender’s eyes widen, as she looked to the other Grisha.

You had defeated them.

On multiple occasions. Together, alone. Every single Grisha in the Little Palace had fought you.

And you had never lost.

You had never allowed yourself to lose. Even though they often begged you for it. Because losing for them just meant more rigorous training. Losing for you meant not being able to see Kaz ever again.

Or so you had thought.

How foolish of you to trust the General.

He’d promised you a safe haven. He’d promised to bring Kaz to you. He’d promised to be your guardian and to protect you. He’d told you his story. About the everlasting pressure of having to undo what the Heretic had done. He’d taken care of you like an older brother would. You’d loved him.

But then you’d started to realize the truth of it all.

He was just using you.

Your powers. Your ability.

And then you ran.

And now you were here.

Honestly, you couldn’t tell which was worse.

You heard Pekka laugh, drowning out your thoughts.

“You’ve got confidence, I’ll give you that.”

Your jaw clenched.

You hated seeing him laugh. Men like him didn’t deserve to laugh.

“But you shouldn’t be that way.” He nodded to one of the men standing at the end of the alleyway and he disappeared behind the building.

“You see, I always have a plan. It’s how you get to where I am”

Then you saw the man again, but this time he wasn’t alone.

Wylan was with him, a knife pressed to his throat, hands tied at the back, the fear evident in his eyes. Your hands curled into fists at the sight.

“Pekka, there’s one thing you should know about me.” Your eyes flicked to him, a plan already forming in your head. “You can hurt me all you like. But you don’t touch my friends.” You seethed.

You flicked your arms then, water swirling around them as you gathered it from the atmosphere. You weren’t a normal Tidemaker. You could gather water from just about anywhere and that was what made you so powerful.

Pekka’s men started to charge, but you were quick to use the water to push them away, making them fall and drop their weapons. You created a watery shield around you as the Grisha started their attacks. Years of practice ensured that even a Heartrender could do you no harm. You ran over to Wylan as the man holding him pressed the knife closer to his throat, when a gunshot rang through the air, making a hole in the man’s chest.

You followed the sound to see Jesper standing on the roof, a grin on his face. You smiled, glad to see your friend. You dropped the shield, throwing one up around Wylan instead, who gave you a small nod in acknowledgement.

You turned back around to the Grisha, and the Guards who were coming to their senses just then, before a flurry of blue started taking them down one by one, as some fell down clutching their chests, revealing Nina and Matthias standing behind them.

A ball of fire flew towards you, which you quickly doused in water, but it drew your attention away from the Squaller who’s next attack sent you flying into the wall.

You grunted from the pain, getting up again, but unable to move as you were still pinned to the wall by a heavy gust of wind. The Inferni were busy luckily, trying to escape the Wraith and Matthias while Nina was helping Wylan get to safety. Jesper was handling the rest of the Guards, leaving you alone.

But where was Kaz?

You were stuck and the Squaller was inching closer to you with every step.

And then it struck.

You should wear bulletproof outfits more.

The bullet pierced through your skin, hitting your ribs and lodging itself inside. The Squaller was temporarily stunned, as you both turned to where the bullet had come from.

Pekka’s gun was pointed at you, his hair messy from whoever he’d just been fighting.

“He said he wanted you alive, but I’ve wanted you dead for a while now,” he rasped out.

“I’ve wanted you dead for longer,” came the all too familiar voice, as the boy swung his cane at the older man.

He was here.

You could feel yourself losing control, and you dropped to your knees, clutching your chest. The Squaller seemed torn between his duties to the General and his own hatred for you, the desire of wanting you gone that every Grisha had. They didn’t hate you. They hated how important you were.

Your hands were sticky with blood, as you subconsciously tried to add pressure to the wound. You flung your free hand towards the Squaller, throwing him back against the wall, away from you temporarily.

You hated how weak this made you feel. Unable to help the others, unable to finish what you came here for. Unable to live up to what you were supposed to be. How did Kirigan expect you to take on the Fold when you couldn’t handle a bullet?

But that was the harsh truth wasn’t it? You were a mistake. An abomination that shouldn’t exist. Your mother hadn’t wanted you. Your father’s wife had hated your existence because you were the reminder of her husband’s infidelity.

And that’s why after he’d died you ran.

You ran until you found Kaz and Jordie.

A temporary haven, until Jordie died.

And then you ran with Kaz until the Grisha had found you.

Then Kirigan took you in. Treated you like his family. But yet again that was temporary.

And then you ran from the Grisha, and from Pekka. From the fear of facing the truth of your life, and the feelings you had for the boy you loved.

You were tired of running. It didn’t seem like you mattered to anyone anymore anyways.

You’d destroyed what you’d had with Kaz. You were nothing to Kirigan without your powers.

The bullet had seemed to make you realize just how tired you were.

Just how much you wanted to rest.

And so amidst the chaos, you let your eyes flutter shut.

~~~~~~~~~

Tags: @ancientbeing10 @lila-kille @emmnf1 @gabby10100 @foulkryptonitepeanut @pinchofhoney @peaches1958 @lyria-skyfall @sabii5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiana76 @breadbrobin @athenasproverbs @cryinghotmess @urlocalgeek @coldheartedmar @ravenmedows @twlegit @marina468 @aeslenya @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

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thezombieprostitute · 2 months

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Changing Minds - Part 6

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: Implied violence and attempted murder. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU.

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

You’re getting yourself ready to leave your apartment for the first time since the bomb scare. It’s been a few days and part of you chides yourself for the flash of fear that arises every time you consider going outside. It used to be so easy to just open the door and walk outside but now you shake every time you’re near your door.

Nick has made no effort to hide that he’s noticed but he doesn’t say anything. He’s been letting you take the lead in everything, especially conversations. He’s gotten really good at predicting your wants and needs but still waits for you to actually say something. It’s the closest he gets to a conversation with you. He really misses when the two of you could just talk.

Looking at the door you take a breath to steady yourself. “Nick?” He’s immediately at your side. “Nick, would you please…please walk with me to…to go get my mail?”

“Of course,” he whispers.

You grab your keys and tell him, “I want to take the stairs. I haven’t been walking as much and I’m really feeling it.” He nods and follows you out the door. Even though you’re not leaving the building, you lock it behind you before heading to the stairs.

Nick is the first on the stairwell but lets you set the pace. You notice how he’s able to keep himself alert while still being able to act casual. It’s a skill you’re envious of, especially as you feel terror with step away from the safety of your home. You fidget with your keys as you try not to think about potential snipers in the windows.

The mailroom for your building is in a windowed vestibule and you feel more exposed than ever. Nick does a quick look around before leaning against the boxes near yours. You feel a little easier knowing he’s got your back, though you’re still not yet ready to tell him that.

You unlock your mailbox and it’s almost full. You also see a small key at the bottom, indicating you’ve received a package that had to be placed in one of the bigger mailboxes. You look at the key and your breathing goes shallow. What if it’s another bomb, you think.

Nick sees you freeze and takes the key from your hand. “You’re okay,” he whispers, his hand gently rubbing your cheek. “I’ll make a call and we’ll let someone else take a look at the delivery, okay?”

Nodding you wipe away the tears from your eyes that you didn’t realize had started forming. “Let’s take the elevator back up?” He nods and the two of you head back to your apartment.

As soon as the apartment door closes you collapse into your favorite chair. It shouldn’t be so difficult to just get the mail, you chide yourself. The tears start pouring as you drop the mail on the ground.

Nick is immediately on his knees in front of you, gently telling you, “it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

“It’s not okay Nick,” you snap at him, pushing him away. “It’s just getting the mail! How can that be so draining? So terrifying?! What am I supposed to do about work?!”

His face conveys his hurt and concern as takes your hands in his. He keeps his voice level as he tells you, “you’ve been through a major trauma, Lovely Lady. A trauma no one should have to go through. Your world has been seriously shaken up and nothing feels safe any more.”

He kisses your hands, an act that surprises you so much you stop crying. “It’s completely understandable that you’re afraid,” he continues. “That, what used to be simple acts, are now draining. It’s also completely understandable that you’re so frustrated. Your sense of security has been taken from you. Through no fault of your own, at that.” His voice cracks a little at that. A small acknowledgement of his role in your current state.

“I know I can’t always be with you,” he hesitates. “But I will choose to be with you whenever I have that option. I will help you every step I can to get you through this.”

“You can’t fix this, Nick,” you shake your head.

“Not gonna try to,” he assures. “It’s not a fix that’s needed here.”

“I’m broken,” you accuse. “You and your stupid investigation bullshit broke me!” You slap your hand against your mouth, regretting the words as soon as they’re out of your mouth. The hurt in his eyes is plain to see. “I’m sorry, Nick,” you whimper. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault. I know it’s not you. I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

He leans closer to you and hugs you, letting you cry on his shoulder until you can’t cry anymore.

It’s a few hours before you finally get to opening the mail. Nick's people confirm the package is harmless; it was a book you'd forgotten you'd ordered. Several “thinking of you” cards from your coworkers. A letter from your mother expressing her disappointment at your reaction to your sister’s marriage. A few bills. And one envelope, too large to be a card, with gold trim. The return address isn’t one you recognize and slowly open it. It’s…an invitation?

“Nick,” you call. He sets his phone down and you hand him the envelope. “Do you recognize that address?”

His breath catches, “it’s one of Kent’s buildings. Used for fancy dinner parties and the like.”

You read from the invite, “Dearest Lady Y/N, it is my sincerest hope that you are feeling better. If not, perhaps a tea time with good company will help.” You look up at Nick, “I don’t understand this move.”

Nick’s jaw tightens in anger, “he’s telling us he not only knows where you work but where you live as well.”

“Seriously,” you shake your head. “It would be obvious to anyone that he has the ability to know where I live. Is he that dumb or does he just not know what overkill is?”

Nick blinks a few times and then starts chuckling. You throw a confused look at him and he explains, “for so many years I've hated this man and his seemingly genius ways at avoiding consequences for his crimes. Meanwhile you're unironically calling him an idiot. It's…it's nice to get a different take.”

“Maybe that different take is what you need to catch him.”

“What?”

“Well, you've been so scared of him,” you hesitate, “so in awe of his methods. Maybe you need to dumb down your thinking about him?” Nick considers so you press on, “I've got an invite to one of his buildings, and I'm allowed a plus one. We're supposed to be pretending we're dating. What if, instead of waiting to see how he'll react to us being together, we push his buttons?”

“You want to purposely poke the bear?” Nick is both flabbergasted by your idea and further in awe of you.

“It might just be what you need to see the cracks. Or find his weakness. If we go at the slower pace we were planning it'll give him time to think and plot. So we push hard and fast and keep him off-kilter.”

“If that is what my Lady wishes, I'll make sure it's done as safely as possible.”

Part 5 -- Part 7

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

Over The Odds | Surprise

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, fluff, ceo!jungkook, sugardaddy!jungkook

Word count - 5.7k

You’re offered a life changing opportunity

warnings: mentions of mental health illnesses, mental health facility, toxic family members, oral sex (f receiving), passionate prone bone sex, soft jk & oc

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

Jungkook’s home has become your safe haven, a place to escape reality and catch a moment of breathing space when life gets tough. The familiar scent of musk and vanilla adds a certain nostalgia to the air, you miss him, he’s at work a lot of the time but has given you free reign of his place whenever sleeping in Jimin’s bed proves too much for you. It’s been one month since Ruth’s arrest, one month since Jennie had also been taken into police custody for her part in all of this too. Finally, fucking finally you’re beginning to feel like a ginormous weight has lifted from your shoulders.

Telling your parents what your sister had done was no easy task, your mum broke down in floods of tears and blamed herself: ‘maybe I raised her the wrong way’, ‘maybe I should’ve been there for her more’, and the one that stung the most, ‘I should’ve seen this coming’. Your father had a similar reaction, locking himself in his office for what felt like a lifetime to silently ponder all the parental mistakes he made, searching for the signs he overlooked before.

After a lengthy discussion with Taehyung you were advised that Ruth is probably going to be sent to a mental health institute to battle her demons rather than prison. A professional had conducted an examination on your sister, revealing that she is suffering with a collection of illnesses that alter her personality. As far as you’re aware she’s undergoing treatments and responding well to the medication, it’s hard to say for sure because you haven’t visited her yourself – only your parents have, initially to seek answers from their oldest daughter but you suspect they keep going back out of guilt.

Thankfully no legal repercussions came from Jungkook fighting with Namjoon, he’s assured you that there’s no footage of him ever being there and Taehyung has also advised that if anything is to creep up, he’s more than prepared for it with a catalogue of receipts proving why Joon isn’t a reliable source and any claims he makes shouldn’t be taken seriously by the law.

The hole in your heart from Namjoon’s infidelity has healed, however the betrayal of your sister is currently a working progress. If it wasn’t for Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi god only knows how you would be feeling right now. Things are settling down some, you’re applying for jobs left right and centre but to no avail, not yet – Jungkook has been taking care of you in every way possible: emotionally, physically, financially, despite your frequent protests telling him he doesn’t need to.

It's a Friday morning when you’re sitting in your boyfriend’s kitchen, propped up on the counter top in short silky pyjamas with a coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. You’re mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, saving a few outfit inspiration posts that catch your eye when the device rings, displaying an unknown number.

“Hello?” You answer lazily, confused.

A woman who sounds to be mid thirties replies, “Hello, good morning, is this Y/N?”

“Who’s calling please?” You frown, sipping at your steaming drink.

“My name is Linda, I work for the BBC. Just to confirm am I speaking to Y/N?”

“…The BBC?” You cock your head to one side, “Yeah this is Y/N, what can I do for you?”

“Brilliant! I’m calling today to arrange a meeting with you if possible, I work in television and we’re currently looking into a documentary on cyber crimes against women in the UK. I’m very interested in sharing your story, with your consent of course. You’re quite the celebrity these days and I think with your platform we could really shine a light on this topic and the repercussions that come from stories like yours.”

Your jaw drops, you’re frowning, eyes wide, heart quickening.

“I-,” You’re at a total loss for words, this is something that you feel so strongly about and the chance to potentially help others who have gone through similar experiences is something you’re very much interested in doing, “That sounds like something I’d be interested in doing, when can we meet?”

“How does next Thursday at 2PM sound?”

“That would be great, thank you so much for calling me…” You’re wearing a surprised smile, already excited about the prospect of this new opportunity.

“No thank you for taking my call, take care Y/N we’ll see you next week and please feel free to brainstorm any ideas you may have, we’d like you to be as involved in this project as possible.”

“Thank you, have a good day.” You end the call with a single tap of the thumb, throwing yourself off the kitchen countertop with a grin to get ready for the day ahead.

BBC want your help sharing your story about cyber crimes against women? This could open up so many doors for your career, maybe you can even make use of your business degree and turn the hellish events of this year into something much, much bigger. Your brains doing overtime when you do your hair and makeup after a quick shower, deciding today is a day for celebration. You shimmy yourself into a champagne slip dress, a recent gift from your boyfriend, and grunge it down with some converse and an oversized black leather jacket.

The paparazzi are already waiting outside Jungkook’s building for you, as they usually are these days, so you offer them a small smile and wave before making your way to Jimin’s place to tell him your surprising yet very exciting news.

“Y/N? What are you doing here it’s not even 10AM.” Jimin rubs the sleep from his eye in his matching blue pyjamas, stepping to one side to let you in.

“Good morning sunshine. The BBC just called me, they want me to be in a documentary about cyber crimes against women.” You blurt in excitement which seems to wake your best friend up as he’s grinning just as widely as you are.

“Whoa, Y/N that’s amazing! Are you gonna do it?”

“Maybe? I think it could be a good thing to help them with this?”

Jimin pulls you in for a hug in the cluttered living space, you notice there’s cardboard boxes scattered about the apartment, “I think it’s a great thing, I’m so proud of you—”

“For having sex on camera?” You chuckle against his warm neck, “No but really, I wanna raise awareness for this type of thing, I already have so many ideas to tell them.”

“What’s Jungkook said about it?” He peels back and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi over his shoulder, shuffling around in pyjamas similar to Jimin’s.

“I’m gonna tell him tonight, they only called this morning.” You smile, waving at the newest member of your small friendship circle. “What’s with all the boxes?”

At this his face drops into something guilty, he turns away from you to boil the kettle and make everybody a drink, “Uh-, Y/N…”

“What?”

“Come on let’s sit down.”

And so you do, choosing to settle on the arm chair with your freshly made herbal tea as the couple take the small sofa along the next wall. Yoongi and Jimin, or yoonmin as you’ve affectionately labelled them, are the epitome of the perfect couple. They’re great together, in the time you’ve known them as a unit you’ve learned that their personalities couldn’t be more different even if they tried. Where Jimin is loud, sometimes overbearing and outgoing Yoongi is more reserved, introverted but his one-liner jokes always have a way of catching you off guard.

“What’s going on?” You quirk a brow, heart melting when your gaze finds Yoongi soothingly rubbing small patterns on Jimin’s thigh.

“The tenancy agreement on this place runs out next month,” Jimin sighs, “So… I’m gonna move in with Yoongi, but don’t worry we’ve spoken about it and—”

“And you can move in with me too, I live in Jungkook’s building… My apartment isn’t as big or luxurious as his but I have a guest bedroom that—”

“That we can decorate and make it yours, nothing has to change I still want us to live together—”

“We want you to live with us.” Yoongi corrects his boyfriend with a content nod and gummy smile, his newly bleached silver hair falling into his eyes.

“Guys…” You’re laughing breathily, taken aback by their gesture bless their sweet souls, “Thank you, really thank you so much but… I mean I practically live at Jungkook’s anyway, I can always talk to him and see if he’s ready to take the next step in our relationship and… Yknow… If not I can go back to my parents’ house it’s no big deal.” You nervously chew your lower lip, you want to live with Jungkook, hell in a way it feels like you already do, but you don’t know if he feels the same way.

“No really you can live with us Y/N, don’t feel like you have to ask anybody else.” Yoongi guzzles the rest of his morning coffee, promptly standing from the sofa, “Anyway I’ve gotta go get changed and get to work, I’ll see you both soon.”

“I mean it Y/N you can live with us, I’ve already picked out the colour scheme of your new bedroom.” Jimin beams like a proud dad, winning you to kick your head back with a laugh.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one who does that?”

“Well you’ve had a really traumatic six months… I thought I could lighten your burden.” He justifies with a mocking nod, hand clutching his heart.

“Ah, well thank you so much.”

“How are you doing now?”

“You mean since I saw you yesterday?” You giggle, “I’m fine.”

“No but really… How are you doing? Have you heard anything from uh-, Ruth?” He almost looks guilty when her name leaves his lips, though he has no reason to feel that way. It’s not like he was the one who betrayed you.

“My parents have been visiting her… She’s not well, but I haven’t spoken to her myself since she was arrested.”

“Are you going to speak to her?” Jimin’s question catches you off-guard, you almost drop your drink as you mull over what he’s asking of you. Do you want to see her? To speak to her? After everything she’s done?

You shake your head slowly, “Probably not, I hope she gets all the help she needs but to be frank with you I don’t want to be a part of her life anymore.”

“Understandable. So tell me more about this documentary!”

The rest of your morning is filled with Jimin trying to convince you to live with him and his partner, to which you do begin to consider it – maybe living with them would be the best thing. You’ll still be close to Jungkook, a lot closer than if you moved back into your family home, and you wouldn’t have to put a strain on your relationship by asking to move in either. It’s after a food delivery and endless conversations about the future with your bestie that you decide to head back to Kook’s apartment; excited to tell him about your new opportunity.

Back at the penthouse you’re busying yourself by hanging up Jungkook’s dry cleaning in his walk-in closet, it’s a little after six pm when the elevator chimes signalling his arrival. He looks fucking delicious today, as always, wearing grey and black checked trousers with a black shirt tucked into them, the first few buttons undone exposing his tanned skin. His hair is pushed back away from his face, flaunting his thick brows and chiselled features that soften upon seeing you when he steps inside the bedroom.

“You look…amazing baby,” His stare hungrily drags itself up the way the champagne coloured dress hugs your curves, “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” You shrug, smiling when he makes his way over, “How was work?”

“Ah yknow, bit of this a bit of that… Same shit different day.” He chuckles, his expensive cologne flooding your senses when he stands behind your frame, snaking his strong arms around your waist, “Is this new? Don’t think I’ve seen you wear it before, and I’m sure I would’ve remembered...” He squeezes the material of your dress, peppering your neck with dainty kisses.

“Mhm, my boyfriend bought me it last week actually.” You hum amused, trying to ignore the way your stomach knots with each of his little touches as you hang up the last of his suit jackets.

“Ahh, now I remember. He has good taste.”

“Well I guess there is kind of an occasion,” You loll your head to one side, granting him further access to your sensitive skin, his dark bangs tickle the flesh of your earlobe, “I’ve been asked to help the BBC with a documentary they’re doing on cyber crimes against women.”

“What?” He pulls his head back, spinning you in place until the swell of your breasts are flush with his toned chest, “That’s… Y/N that’s incredible, are you gonna do it?” His eyes are trained to yours, his smile genuine and brightening up the otherwise dark room.

To this you lift your shoulders, “Maybe? I mean I want to, it’s a topic not enough people talk about. I have a meeting with them next week to discuss it properly.” His hands find purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly.

“Well whatever you decide to do you have my full support, I know things have been rough for you and if this is a way for you to get closure and take control of the situation then I’m all for it.”

You hadn’t even thought about it like that, maybe sharing your story and what you went through with the video leak will be good for you, therapeutic even. Maybe it will give you closure, discussing your emotions and shining a light on the repercussions of revenge porn. You bring your arms to his broad shoulders, lightly grazing your manicured fingertips on the nape of his neck, winning a content sigh to fall from your boyfriends lips.

“You know I could get used to this.” He rests his forehead against yours with a breathy chuckle.

“Don’t destroy this one and I’ll wear it more often then.” You giggle, pressing your lips to his in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Mm, you know that I’m not talking about the dress,” He hums against you, your teeth almost clink together because of how much you’re both smiling, “I meant you being here when I get back from work.”

“I’m pretty much always here now.” You kiss him again, this time swiping your tongue over his lips earning yourself another sigh. He walks you backwards out of the closet until your knees hit the foot of his bed, his mouth never leaving yours when the kiss deepens into something more…desperate.

“I’m just saying,” You can feel how hard he’s already getting against your abdomen, his voice is husky and deep with seduction, yet quiet against your lips, “Maybe you should bring more things here, I like that you’re here a lot.”

“A little too much apparently.” You snake a hand down to cup his length, he hisses before shaking his head in disbelief with a smile.

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“Mhm, I get that quite often.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should learn how to behave then.” Your back hits the mattress with a small ‘oomf’ from your end when he pushes you onto the bed, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his muscular arms.

“Maybe.” You repeat with a smirk, hands gliding to his shirt buttons where you get to work in undoing them, “But maybe you secretly like that I’m such a brat.”

“It’s not much of a secret at this point now, is it?” He smashes his lips to yours in a series of lewd frenzied kisses that has you weak at the knees embarrassingly fast. You quickly rid him of his shirt, fingernails tracing the intricate patterns of his body art.

A small whine escapes you when he holds your hands above your head with one of his, pinning you in place. His other gets to work on hiking your dress up until the material pools your middle, exposing the pretty purple lacey thong you decided to wear today. He licks the shell of your ear before taking it between his teeth.

“Jungkook…” You breathe, desperate to feel more of him.

“Sometimes I forget how sensitive you are...” He murmurs, repeating his previous action until your hips are buckling up into his in search of friction. Thankfully he recognises your neediness and two inked fingers find their way to the waistband of your underwear, playfully twanging it, you can feel him smirking against your neck.

“Please…” You whimper, hands struggling against his hold.

He pulls back to sit on his knees, searching for the zipper of your dress. Your hands are finally free but you freeze, body tensing up as you stop him. You haven’t been completely naked in front of him, sober, in a very long time. Every time you’d been intimate with him you’d found a way to keep your lingerie on, or wore something with easy access that didn’t need removing completely. You still feel insecure about your body ever since it was publicly exposed.

“No-, stop.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, Jungkook stops in his tracks immediately with big brown doe eyes zoned in on your face.

“Are you okay?” He’s worried, but you’re distracted by the way his muscles flex under the dim lighting of his bedroom.

“Yeah yeah,” You nod quickly to reassure him, “Just leave the dress on please.”

“Y/N…” His brows are knitted together in confusion, “Why?”

At this you sigh, somewhat under pressure, “I just don’t feel-, please?”

“Baby…” His voice is low and quiet, he’s gripping your thighs gently, “You’re perfect, you know that right? So fucking perfect.” He lowers his mouth to your open thighs, gently sucking the flesh between a series of licks and kisses, winning a soft moan from you. “I love you so much baby…”

“I love you too.”

“Do you trust me?” His breath is warm against your skin as he slowly makes his way up to your underwear.

“You know I do.” You whisper, lying flat on your back against the bed sheets.

“Then please… Don’t cover up this beautiful body of yours…” He takes your lingerie between his teeth, playfully pulling it back. A groan erupts from your chest when he licks at your barely clothed clit, his hooded eyes are glued to yours, “I wanna see all of you, I wanna feel all of you… You’re perfect, so fucking perfect.”

“Please touch me Jungkook…”

You’re twisting the sheets beneath you when he hooks his fingers into your panties, dragging them down your legs painfully slow before you’re kicking them off the bed. He’s taking his time with you tonight, littering your folds with small kisses before finally he takes your clit between his lips and sucks gently.

“Fuck,” You throw your head back, body feeling ten million times hotter than it did when he first got back.

“You like that baby?” He hums, proud, flattening his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves where he traces small, familiar patterns – the same patterns he always does, making you come undone every time without fail, “You like it when I eat you out like this?”

“Mmm, yeah I do…” You push your core up to meet his mouth, his tongue massages your clit rhythmically.

He shifts on the bed, laying flat on his toned stomach as he continues to lap up your growing arousal. You’re growing wetter and wetter by the minute, the lewd noises of his mouth against you fill the otherwise quiet atmosphere and heat spreads your abdomen.

“Keep going.” You mewl.

“Take your dress off for me baby,” Jungkook’s stare is fuelled by nothing other than lust, “Please, you don’t need to hide from me Y/N.”

Lazily your fingers find the zipper and soon you’re pulling the champagne silk off your figure, exposing your matching purple bra which is sheer enough to see your nipples through it. You’re too turned on to feel insecure, Jungkook groans at the sight of your exposed body, burying his face between your folds with a new found determination.

“And your bra.” He mumbles.

Within minutes you’re completely naked and spread wide for your boyfriend, he’s eating you out so passionately and so messily that you’re already close to seeing stars. You yell something that sounds like his name when his arms reach up to your bare breasts, thumbing and rubbing your nipples, his touch featherlight but has you a writhing mess within minutes.

“You taste so fucking good baby.” He moans. The sound vibrates against you until it reaches your insides, adding to your growing orgasm while he speeds up his ministrations.

“Jungkook, fuck-“ You’re a panting mess, rolling your hips against his face. You peer down at him, it’s like he’s hypnotised by your pussy, suckling it so hard and perfectly in sync with the way he’s pinching your nipples. After a few particularly harsh licks and flicks of his tongue you welcome the white hot heat that threatens to spill, fingertips flying to his raven locks where you pull him impossibly closer, “There, oh my g-, right there, don’t stop! I’m gonna! Don’t stop!”

And he doesn’t, keeping the pace even until you’re empty hole is convulsing, pulsating as you cream all over his mouth and chin with a deafeningly loud moan. As always he helps you ride out your high, slowing his movements when he laps up every last drop of your come while you try and steady your heaving breaths.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, I love watching you come for me...” He exhales, gaze lost in yours. The way he looks at you as he crawls on top of your frame should be illegal, a shaky sigh leaves your lips when his come down to meet them, swallowing your pleas to be fucked. Your arousal lingers on his tongue, the taste swirls against yours and floods your senses.

“Please fuck me, please…please…” You whine.

He falls weak to you begs, quickly ridding himself of his checked pants and boxers, roughly gripping the bend of your waist, “Turn over.” He orders, voice low and dangerous.

You obey, rolling onto your front until your breasts mould against the mattress. Jungkook spreads your legs with his knees before lowering his body onto yours, holding his weight with his arms. He’s kissing your back, his multitalented tongue darting out with kittenish licks on your bare skin.

“Jungkook please.” You whine into the pillow, turning your face to the side.

“What do you want baby? Tell me.” His voice is merely a whisper.

“I want you to fuck me…” You gnaw your lower lip with desperation growing between your already shaky legs.

At this he lines himself up with your entrance, teasingly brushing his length between your sopping folds winning you both to groan in anticipation. There’s a ringing in your ears similar to white noise when he finally, agonisingly slowly, pushes every rock hard inch of himself into your core from behind.

A gasp tumbles from your lips when he rocks his hips into you, his pelvis pressing hard against the fat of your ass cheeks with each movement. He feels so big from this position, filling you up in the most devilishly good way possible. You push your ass up as much as you can, until his shaft brushes against your sensitive and spongey g-spot with every thrust.

“Jungkook.” You mouth falls into a silent ‘o’, eyes scrunched from pleasure.

“You’re amazing,” He breaths against your neck between lewd kisses against your skin, “You’re fucking amazing Y/N.”

You’re panting a chorus of ‘please’ ‘fuck’ ‘yes’ ‘Jungkook’ in sync with each time he fills you up to the brim, the crown of his cock pressing against your cervix hard enough to bruise.

“I love you so much… Fuck, I love you princess.” The new pet name whispered between soft groans sends a pang of heat to your abdomen, your second orgasm already approaching, “Touch yourself for me, rub that perfect little clit.”

Snaking a hand down the bed you find the sweet spot with ease and begin to do as he says, tracing small circles over the area in time with the deep yet slow rolls of his hips.

“That’s it, fuck-,” A guttural moan rips from his throat at the way your walls squelch and tighten around him, he knows you’re close, he can tell by your wayward breathing and the way you’re writhing under his weight, “You feel so good, I could fuck you like this forever.”

“Faster, go faster please…” You beg shamelessly.

At this he shakes his head, his damp hair tickling your shoulder, “Nice and slow baby… Nice and slow.”

Pained moans leap from your chest that’s heaving against the bed linen, he’s never been this gentle and passionate with you. The way he’s fucking into you sensually, holding himself in place with one arm as the other comes down to explore your curves, his fingertips grazing every spot on one side of your body until his palm finds purchase on your hip, fingernails digging into your skin when he grips you, pulling your bodies even closer.

“So close…” You warn him with a strangled whimper, speeding up the way your own hand rubs your throbbing clit.

“Go on, give me another one,” He’s equally as breathless as you when he takes the flesh of your neck between his teeth, “Come for me, your pussies already so wet—”

He’s cut off by his own throaty moan, the sound so deep it’s borderline a growl when your second orgasm hits, your hole clenching his thick length so sinfully that you’re nothing more than a blubbering mess beneath him, totally and completely fucked out. Both hands fly to the pillow that you’re squeezing and twisting in your grip, body jolting and shaking as you ride out the wave of euphoria.

“You’re so tight, ah-,” He hisses, kissing your temple.

“Kook…” You’re in a post-bliss daze, barely able to catch your breath. Your mind is blank, unable to concentrate on anything other than the sensations and sounds of Jungkook slowly splitting open your slippery walls. “Oh my god-“

It’s not long before his own orgasm approaches, his grunts turn into whines and his thrusts become messy, he never speeds up though, not once. He rocks his cock in and out of you at a leisurely pace until he’s chanting your name under ragged breaths. You peek back at him for a moment, the sight alone makes you gasp. His eyes are squeezed shut, kiss-swollen lips ajar, messy sweat-stained hair covers forehead and thick brows.

“You’re gonna make me come baby…” His hooded eyes flutter open for a second, his gaze locked onto yours before he buries his head into your shoulder with a loud, gravelly groan, spilling his hot seed into you.

Jungkook stills for a few minutes before rolling off, laying next to you with a glistening chest and worn-out smile, “You’re something else.” He chuckles, playfully spanking your ass. You can’t move, you’re still laid flat on your stomach untrusting of your wobbly limbs to hold your weight in any other position.

“I didn’t do anything.” You hum with a tired grin, “It was that dress.”

“I can assure you, you look much better without it.”

“Hmm.” You bury your face into the pillow, somewhat embarrassed.

“I’m serious,” He starts, lazily draping his arm round your middle, “You’re perfect, this body…”

“Jungkook, stop it.” You’re laughing when he shifts his position, choosing the straddle your hips with his palms massaging your shoulders. You melt under his touch, feeling the epitome of relaxed when he begins to work a particular knot between your shoulder blades with his thumbs.

“That laugh,” He sighs lovingly, “Your smile, your eyes… You’re perfect.”

“Mmm.” You neither agree nor disagree, instead choosing to enjoy this impromptu massage from your boyfriend.

“Y/N...”

“Mmm?” You glance back at him, to which he flashes you a coy boy-ish smile.

“Move in with me.”

“What?” This gets your attention, your limbs are heavy and weak but you manage to roll onto your back, blushing at how Kook is now straddling your front as opposed to your back.

“I’m serious, I want us to live together...”

You’re grinning up at him with hopeful eyes, “Really? You think we’re ready for that?”

“Definitely.” He nods with a smile brighter than ten thousand suns, folding his body until your lips meet again in a heartfelt, blissful kiss.

The week flies by, your meeting with the BBC goes better than you had hoped. The main producer Linda, the woman who called you, loved your ideas and is eager to share your story with the world and has given you full creative control in how you want it to be portrayed. You’ve signed a contract with them, it’s officially happening, amongst other exciting opportunities.

“A TV appearance?” Jungkook repeats.

“Mhm, once we’re done filming… To promote the documentary.”

You’re sitting on his lap, being careful not to shift around on top of him too much and save him from an awkward encounter since you’re not alone. It’s pizza night, Taehyung has joined you both for the evening at yours and Jungkook’s now shared apartment but doesn’t seem to mind the obvious semi-public display of affection.

“What’re your plans after the documentary? Like, what are you going to do with it?” Taehyung asks, taking a chomp out of his Hawaiian pizza. Everybody is dressed casually tonight, the three of you in sweats and hoodies while you enjoy some down time together.

“Glad you asked,” You snap your fingers and point to him, rolling your eyes with a smile at Kook who can’t seem to end the string of cheese coming from his own pizza no matter how hard he tries, “I’m finally gonna put my degree to use, I want to start a company that helps women in similar situations to mine… Pay for their legal help when they can’t afford it, provide them with the right resources to get them justice, offer counselling and so on.”

“Like a charity?” Tae raises his brows, seemingly impressed.

You nod, breaking the melted cheese away from Jungkook’s slice for him with your fingers, “Yeah, yknow I never knew what I wanted to do with my degree up until now, I’ve already got a few investors interested in funding the first year.”

“By investors do you mean Guk?”

“Nah,” Jungkook chuckles though he looks vaguely defeated, “She wants to do this on her own, I’ve tried telling her I’ll provide any funding she needs but—”

“But I want the entire thing to be founded by, funded by, and ran by women. Female attorneys, female counsellors, female staff.” You say proudly.

“Isn’t that a little sexist?” Taehyung clicks his tongue but you can’t help but notice he’s impressed by your ambition, his feline eyes wide and glistening when he smiles.

You offer him a small shrug, “I don’t think it is, I just want to give victims of cybercrime and revenge porn a safe space to talk about it and statistically most victims are women. Besides there’s plenty of companies out there that are run by only men.”

“Touché.”

“I’m telling you now,” Jungkook’s palm finds the small of your back, “You’ve got this, I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Your hand gently grips his chin and you angle his face towards yours, planting a chaste kiss to his lips which he reciprocates, “Thank you.”

“Any time.” He mumbles against your mouth with a grin, stealing another kiss.

“Guys c’mon I’m right here.” Taehyung complains, averting his eyes away from the scene, “Just because you live here now doesn’t mean I wanna see it every time I come over.”

Jungkook pulls away, facing his best friend with a smirk, “Sorry.”

Your phone vibrates inside your pocket, earning you to jump up from Kook’s lap much to his disappointment, “Hang on,” You hold up a single digit, “It’s my mum I’ll be right back.” You saunter out the room, closing the master bedroom door behind you.

“Hello?”

“Hi Y/N it’s just me…” Your mum’s voice is soft as she announces herself, despite the fact you knew full well it was her calling from her contact name and display picture.

“Everything okay?” You sit on the bed.

There’s a brief pause on the line, “It’s your sister…”

“Mum.” You cut her off sternly, she knows full well you want nothing to do with her after everything she’s done, “I told you I don’t want to know.”

“I know, I know,” Her voice is laced with guilt, “But she wanted me to pass on a message and I said that I would.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose vaguely irritated, “What’s the message?”

“She wants you to go and visit her.”

You bite back a scoff, “Why?”

“She wouldn’t say.”

“The answer is no.” You say with confidence, “I’m sorry mum, but I can’t. I don’t want her in my life after what she did. I’m not going.”

At this your mother sighs, you feel her pain of course you do, Ruth is her first born child and she will always love her no matter what she’s done and you don’t hate her for that. After all there’s nothing stronger than a maternal bond, “Okay, I’ll let her know... But since you’re not going to see her yourself there’s something you should know...”

“What?” You mumble, attempting to ignore the hurt in her voice.

“Ruth... She’s pregnant.”

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