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monst · 4 years

Text

Taking a dip

All characters 18+

Hawks (Takami Keigo), Todoroki Shouto, Deku (Midoriya Izuku), Dabi X reader

Warnings: Sexy time actions/themes, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Dubcon (Dabi & Hawks). Mutual masterbation (Deku), Shenanigans (Shouto & Hawks)

“Can I request some nsfw Onsen hc’s for Dabi Todo Deku and Hawks pls?”

Dabi

You were ecstatic, so much so that you hummed rather loudly as you peeled off your clothes. You hadn’t been on a vacation since you became a hero and that was years ago. Your agency had sent you on mandatory leave to a remote mountain in the countryside of Kyoto. You were spending a week at Kinosaki onsen and you hadn’t felt more relaxed in ages.

It was like stepping into the past. One without superpowered villains, without technology to remind you of recent horrors and most importantly there weren’t many people. You really appreciated the cooler weather, thanking it for keeping tourists away. A pleased sigh slipped past your lips when you sunk into the steamy water. The warm liquid quickly eased your tense muscles and you moaned contently.

Two local girls were soaking not far from you and they quickly initiated conversation, they asked about the scars you bore, and were pleasantly surprised and delighted to be bathing with a top pro hero. They stayed a while longer but ultimately decided to call it a day and they waved you goodbye. And then you were alone…

You sighed deeply enjoying the cool night air on your face as the water enveloped your form. After a while you rested your arms on a couple of rocks, your head nestled in between them. ‘I could literally fall asleep here.’ You mused. There was a slide of a door but you didn’t turn back, you kept your back to the new arrival thinking that you should give her privacy as she shed her towel and slipped into the water.

“I thought I’d be in here alone~” You heard a very familiar voice drawl. You had never turned so quickly in water.. Your facial expression changed about a million times in a couple of seconds as you settled for glaring at the villain. The scarred man had a lazy grin set upon his lips as he looked you over. “What? Not gonna yell, pervert and cover yourself?” He teased.

You scoffed, like hell were you going to show any weakness in front of Dabi. He thrived off of people fearing him that and you wanted him to see the nasty burn he left you with a couple months prior. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You hissed, your mind was already conjuring up various scenarios on how to take him down. However, the lanky man just leaned back against a rock formation and sighed.

“Relax dollface.” He hummed. “I’m not here to pick a fight. Every villain needs some time off every so often.” You rolled your eyes, body still tense. Dabi made himself comfortable and your eyes shifted over him in suspicion. He didn’t seem like he was here to finish cremating you… And you didn’t feel like fighting nude. You hated his guts but you supposed, you could just leave it alone for now. Even though his presence had soured your mood, you hadn’t moved from your spot to leave.

“...I swear life hates me.” You grumbled sinking your body into the water up to your chin. It was then that Dabi’s brilliantly blue eyes shifted back to you. His shit eating grin annoyed you. “Ughh out of all places.” You frowned. “Your lucky I’m on vacation otherwise I would have flayed your skinny ass.” His silence was bothering you. “Why couldn’t you have gone to the men's side.” You groaned. He snickered at that, “Well doll~ There’s a couple old geezers in there who’d recognize me and I was under the assumption that there was no one here.” “Don’t lie.” You fumed. “You got me. I saw your name on the roster and decided to pay one of my favorite heroes an impromptu visit.” You wished you could wipe the smug grin off his face. After another moment of silence you noticed he was closer by a foot. “Dabi I swear if you're up to something.” You hissed.

“Relax~ We’re on a ceasefire hero.” “Well then stay where you are…. I’m watching you.” Your eyes narrowed and you made the mistake of making it obvious that you stepped back. “I’m flattered.” He moved a bit closer. “I..I didn’t mean it like that.” You stuttered. ..Fuck.. Your breath was caught as he neared you, little waves slapping against your skin softly. His cerulean gaze was set on your form, water dripping from his lean form and for a moment, for a teeny tiny second your mind whispered something absurd. He’s fucking hot. You squashed the thought.

He was arms length away and you glared at him furiously. You felt your nostrils flare in anger as he looked down at your bare body. “I think I prefer you out of costume.” he hummed. Words seemed to have escaped you as you thought about a million ways you could kill- Your eyes widened when the tips of his fingers brushed against the burn scar on your shoulder. “This is one nasty scar doll~” Without a second thought you lifted your hand ready to bring it across his face…. He nestled your wrist in his hand, a coy smile curling his lips.

You felt your heart thump loudly, you had found yourself in a very unfavorable position and you cried out softly when he lifted your hand away from your body. Your other hand came to push against his chest but he only closed the distance between your wet bodies. His other hand slid down your body and rested on your hip. It was then that you felt something pressing against your belly and your face felt like it was on fire. A gasp escaped your lips when he leaned in, his nose against yours. “I’ve always wanted to fuck my favorite little hero~”

“I will knee you right here right now Dabi. Let. Go.” He laughed at your breathy threat. “I mean it, there’s no way I’ll let a scummy villain-” “Come on (Name)~” He purred. “People are supposed to do wild shit on vacation.”

Todoroki Shoto

Shouto sighed in annoyance. He had been sitting in the changing room for almost an hour now. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, pale fingers tapping against beefy biceps. “Calm down hon.” You laughed plopping down next to him on the wooden bench. He looked over to you and his hand quickly shot out to pull your towel up higher. “I am calm.” He muttered. “Ha.” You scoffed. “Remember we’re out here because you want us to be.” You teased.

The tips of his ears reddened in embarrassment at the truth of the matter. See your husband and you had planned to go to the springs for the weekend. And at your insistence you wanted to go to the mix gendered area so that you could be together. So then he tried to book it so that it’d only be you two. With his money and statues it wasn’t an issue but sadly your good friends had tagged along and now Midoriya, Uraraka, Tsuyu and Tenya were sitting in the hot water. The issue? Well he didn’t care for other people looking at you while you were nude. Therefore he was going to wait them out..

“Ughh Shouto they’re our friends, it’s not a big deal. Besides it’s not like I’m going to be completely nakey.” He knew that, but that didn’t mean he was okay with it. “You know that’s not the issue…” He flushed, looking down at the marks that still lingered on your skin. There was no way his friends wouldn’t notice the indentation of teeth littering your delicate flesh… He may have gotten carried away last night.

You put your hand on his thigh and looked at him seriously. “Sho…. You do realize that our friends know we have sex right?” This elicited an eye roll from the hero. “”Doesn’t mean they need to know every single detail of it.” He countered. “But we shouldn’t keep secrets from our friends.” You teased, giving him your most innocent look. Grey and blue eyes narrowed at the tone and before he could get out a word you dropped your towel and shimmied away towards the sliding door.

“H-Hey!?” He blushed, red consuming his face when you shed your bra. “What? We need them to see everything~” His eyes roamed your exposed flesh, his lips pursed as you began to slide out of your panties. Shouto groaned, your frisky behavior knew no bounds. You wiggled your fingers towards the door and he rose a challenging brow in a silent dare. You scoffed, he was trying to call your bluff. ‘Jokes on him I’m not bluff- “What the?” The door wouldn’t budge. It was then that you saw the ice.

Just as you turned around to confront him you were met with a blanket of blue. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips as he tried to cover your nude form. You weren’t making it easy for him squirming against him as he tried to knot the towel around you. In your breathless wiggles you felt something...interesting. A sly grin slid onto your face, your hand palming his hardening length. His response was immediate, caught off guard he dropped the towel a low groan passing pale pink lips.

“You little liar~” You snickered. “Is this?” You pressed down harder for emphasis. “The reason you don’t want me going out there like this?” Shouto’s gaze set your skin aflame, his lips seared kisses onto your neck, hands kneading the pulpy flesh of your breasts. Your hand slipped underneath his briefs and you began to slowly glide your hand up and down his shaft. “Ah~” He nipped at your neck, stimulating the still tender bites from yesterday.

At the sound he pushed you up against the door, a thick thigh wedging itself between your legs. You wasted no time in trying to grind against the muscular leg his name leaving your lips in a soft whisper. HIs hot breath blew into your ear “I was trying to stop this from happening, in there, in front of all of them. But it seems like that’s what you want… You want them to see how well your tight cunt takes my cock?” You keened at the thought. “Sh-

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off…. By the door sliding open. The fall was muted by Shouto’s quick reflexes and you bounced off his hard chest. He let out a groan and you looked up to meet various pairs of wide eyes. “Hey...Guys… What’s up?” “Not to be rude.. But when are you all leaving?” Shouto added.

Deku -Midoriya Izuku

“Ah~” You sighed in complete bliss as you dipped yourself into the warm heat of the water. You were in heaven~ “Thanks Deku!” You called out to your boss, knowing that the wall separating the both of you wasn’t soundproof. You heard the hero sputter a thanks. You let the hot water penetrate your sore limbs as you chatted with a couple. It wasn’t long before you were listening to their life’s story.

Deku sat alone on his side. Unbeknownst to you he had bought out the entire area knowing how hectic things would have gotten if his fans knew he was there…. Well that was the excuse he told the people at the front desk. Truth was, he had a much more shady reason. You see he was very much interested in his sidekick.

He respected you as a hero, you were strong and valuable but lately he’s been wanting to do more than just hero work with you. He found you incredibly attractive, to the point where it was hard for him to concentrate. And more often than naught he’d find himself fantasising about you, while writing reports he’d think of you coming in, tossing everything off the desk “Hah~” He covered his mouth at the sound. Or when the both of you were patrolling, God how he just wanted to push you into an alley and tear that tight costume from your body and fuck you sensless.

You were just so damn perfect. And he felt so disgusting for what he was doing but he was no longer thinking straight, all of his thoughts went to his dripping length. Red blossomed across his cheeks as he sat atop the rocks by the wall,his hand leisurely stroking his stiff cock. Emerald eyes drank in your form from the crack in the wall. You had been left alone and you took to floating atop the water giving him a great view.

You sunk back down and peered at the wall curiously, unknowingly making the green haired man tense. “Hey Deku?” You called. “Y-yeah?” He stuttered. “You okay? You’ve been making strange sounds for a while now…. Is the water stringing your more recent wounds?” “N-Nooh~” Your eyes widened at the word. ‘D-did he just?... No..That-’ You cut off your train of thought and decided to approach the wall to investigate. The closer you got the more clear the sound was. You felt your face grow warm at the rhythmic sound.

Izuku wanted to stop but the thought of you knowing what he was doing was boiling his blood, his mind was conjuring up infinite scenarios. He wondered if you’d think he was disgusting, would you berate him for it? Join him? Would your hands remove his and would your mouth replace- “Hnngh” His eyes were shut by now and his quick gasps had heat warming in your belly. “Ah~ F-fuck.” He moaned shamelessly. “(N-Name)~” he gasped quietly as he dropped his other hand to cup his balls.

“Holy shit.” You breathed, you climbed onto the rocks and you felt your cunt pulse at the sight. You peered through the same crack he had been observing you from and your face felt like lava at the realization. Ever so slowly you began to slide your hands across your hot body. You mapped the curves of your body, kneading and stroking your way up and down the slippery flesh; your eyes fixed on the show in front of you.

When you reached your pussy, you realized how wet you were and your gasp alerted Deku. Green met (e/c) as you both stared at each other in embarrassment and desire. Silence was threatening to kill the mood until you saw Izuku buck into his hand and resume his slow pace. You sat back making sure to position yourself in a way that you wouldn't fall. Tentatively your hand slid back down to your drooling cunt, and Deku’s breath caught as he watched your fingers swirl around your clit.

“Hnn (N-Name) You so fucking sexy.” He mewled when you slipped in two fingers, your velvety walls accepting them graciously. You whined as you set a good pace. “I-Izuku~” You moaned. It was as if his mind went blank when you said his name and without a second thought he scaled the wall...

Hawks -Takami Keigo

You groaned in annoyance, you had been pushing through branches, and tripping on roots for a while now and still no sight of him. Your puffs of air were visible as you trudged along the mountain trails. The chilly air nipped at your skin as you tried to look for tracks. ‘Nothing.’ You had lost him. “Hawks!?” You shouted, looking up towards the sky. There were no red feathers in sight…

You continued to walk and call out for the hero. You wondered if the villain you were chasing had shot him out of the sky. Worry filled your being at the thought and you ignored the way the low branches snagged at your clothes as you picked up the pace, his hero name and occasionally his name being the only sound amidst the natural woodland sounds. After a couple of minutes you finally found him…. And the villain…

“You idiot.” You huffed. “I thought he got you. And what the fuck are you doing?!” You seethed. The blonde sat in a natural spring clothes strewn across a couple branches, the villain? Unconscious and strapped to a tree like a victim of the monster from the ritual. In reply the cheeky hero just crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back. You averted your eyes to give him some privacy and went to gather the discarded articles of clothing. “Stop fucking around, we need to take this guy in.”

“Oh C’mon (Name)~ I never get to relax, just a couple more minutes?” He whined. You rolled your eyes but allowed him to continue his soak. You picked at your nails as you looked up at the man hanging awkwardly from the tree. ‘He’s going to be so sore when he wakes up. Serves hi-’ Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of water moving and the teasing baritone of the number two hero. “Hey why don’t you join me?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to glare at him, you jumped in surprise he was leaning against a rock close to wear you sat. In your shock you forgot to answer and instead took in the sight of his lean form. Sunlight peeked in from in between the leaves and they hit the water droplets on his chest making the man look ethereal. His strong frame was practically glowing and your tongue slipped out to wet your lips. Hawks grinned, loving the way you were blatantly checking him out. “Is that a yes?” He rumbled. A fire was lit beneath your cheeks and you scoffed. “No. Now hurry the fuck up s-so that we can go.”

The bird in the bath just cocked his head to the side, a mischievous smirk sliding onto his face like melted butter. It was both a blessing and a curse but Keigo was undeniably too fast. You shrieked when your body came in contact with the water. Your clothes immediately absorbing the moisture and becoming heavy. “Keigo!? What the f-Ah! H-hey!” Thick red curtains blocked your exit as his fingers worked at removing your wet clothes.

He undressed, you quite easily tossing the clothes onto the rocks you had previously sat on. Once you were completely nude he pulled back a satisfied grin stretching his pale pink lips. “There.” You shot him a heated glare. He spoke as if he had done you a great service and you’d be damned if you didn’t chew him out for this. “Y..Wh- Arghghh” So eloquent you were in your anger. “See this is your problem birdy, You don’t know how to relax~” He hummed.

“Relax? Relax!? ReLaX!?” You hissed. “I’m fucking naked, in a pool in the middle of no where, far from civilization, my clothes are wet and it’s cold as balls and that fucking villain’s getting front row seats to my impromptu fans only?!” You seethed. Your anger spiking when he only laughed. “I’m going to kill you.” You muttered hugging your arms across your chest, trying not to flash him more than you already had. Keigo was going to be the death of you.

Hawks absolutely loved setting you off, Your short fuse was just too tempting to light. It was a juvenile way of showing his attraction, teasing the ever living hell out of you till you imploded. He waded over to your infuriated form a smile playing at his lips when your fiery eyes met, he held his hand up in mock surrender as he approached. You eyed him warily, body tense when he leaned on the rock next to you. ‘He’s quiet… Too quiet…’

“...(Name)?” He began. A harsh what had him biting his lip to conceal a smile. “I may have went a bit too far, sorry.” You let out a sharp exhale through your nose, brows furrowed as you avoided his pouty ‘sorry’ face. He was notorious for pulling stunts like this and flashing you his innocent repenting angel face. You wouldn’t fall for it. “Sorry isn’t going to dry my clothes.” You sassed. He sighed a frown touching his lips. You were rigid when his strong arms pulled you to him, your back resting against his firm chest.

“Okay, I messed up.” He whispered. He thought about how you could get sick and his arms tightened around your frame. “So..? What do you suppose we do?” He asked. “Call the authorities to our location?” You mused, thinking of how you could just put your clothes back on and wait in the water till aid came. The winged hero reached over the rocks to grab his phone and shared his location along with instructions. “Hmm two hours.” He relayed sinking a bit more into the water.

“We’re going to be so pruny when they get here.” You snickered. “Well I guess we can just make the most of it till then.” You hummed. “Unless?” You heard him mutter. “Unless what?” He then pulled your body flush against his, the curve of your ass brushing against the ‘unless’... “T-The villain is right there?!” You sputtered. “So?” …..Keigo was going to be the death of you.

#dabi x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #deku x reader #hawks x reader #dabi smut #shoto todoroki smut #deku smut #hawks smut #dabi x reader smut #shoto x reader smut #midoriya smut #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya izuku smut #takami keigo smut #takami keigo x reader

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amelee23 · 3 years

Text

Fool | J. YH

Genre: Fluff

Tags: Best friends to lovers, Suggestive themes and sexual jokes, Wooyoung is an accidental wingman, Nerdy gamers having at it, A lot of Need for Speed references

No. Words: 3.5k

⭐⭐⭐

She always loved when they got completely absorbed in their little bubble - engrossed in what was making them tick in the most passionate of ways. Since Yunho came to pick her up and take her to the dorm, she didn’t even realize when they got there - or even that the house was empty - because they were too caught in a conversation about the new-coming video games of 2021. The small task of taking off shoes or their jackets, the walk to Yunho’s room and the struggle to get comfortable in the gaming chair; these were not memories in her mind. All she could remember was the way he smiled without stop and the sparkle in his eyes as excitement took over his entire being.

Only after Yunho told her he’s been playing old games lately - specifically racing classics, of the Need For Speed series - had she realized the house was too quiet. Yunho then informed her they all left to eat at a restaurant with the manager team, but he asked to be left behind so he could spend time with his best friend. She couldn’t help the warm smile raising her lips at the sweet sacrifice this man made for her.

A few minutes later and she felt the usual competitive side of her kick in, seeing Yunho with a controller in hand, playing Need for Speed: Underground 2, a game she remembered dearly from her childhood. She couldn’t help but feel she could do so much better than him - and that’s how the challenge came to be.

“Yeah, you want to bet?” Yunho suggested, his cheeks raised in a cheeky smile, but his lips expressed something a lot more smug.

“2 out of 3: sprint, Street X and drift.” The boy laughed at his best friend’s confidence, finding her determination very charming, like always.

“Deal.” He announced, raising his hand so she could high five the deal to completion. It never failed to amaze him, how gentle her high fives felt to him, even though she’s the only woman he’s ever seen break a controller before. “What are we betting on, money?”

“Money is boring.” Taken aback, Yunho had a healthy laugh at her statement. He couldn’t wait to say this sentence again, out of context, and turn it into both teasing material and an inside joke.

“Okay, then what do you suggest?” He asked, still cackling with a half lidded eye smile.

“Let’s do something more… daring.” Trying to act surprised, Yunho opened his eyes in curiosity and hummed. They both got to thinking for about a minute, then she snapped her fingers exaggeratedly to show she had an idea. “Let’s randomly ask Wooyong to give the loser a punishment!”

“Like, with no context?”

“Exactly! After one of us loses, we ask Wooyong to give out a spicy punishment-! No one would be better than him at coming up with something totally ridiculous that one of us will regret for a lifetime!”

“I mean, you’re not wrong. But I’m starting to think you’re a masochist.”

“It’s a 50/50 gamble, so who knows?” She rebutted, wiggling her eyebrows at Yunho suggestively. He could feel his ears heating up so he pretended to need to face his computer for a while. “So, what do you say?” She questioned him, moving closer to where he was, probably intentionally, because she knew how to tell when he was turning shy.

“I say you’re both crazy and a genius … a crazy genius. But I’m all on board.”

“Yas, leggo baby!” Yunho shook his head as he took in the image of his best friend leaning back into her chair, controller in hands, legs somewhere in between the right armrest and the air. Her enthusiasm dripped from the way she was grooving to the OST of the game. Warmth and an electricity-like feeling began filling his chest.

It took them perhaps a little too long to decide on the first track to play. Eventually, after long minutes of bickering, they chose a winding long race and swore to not try to mess the other up.

Yunho was the first one to drive, his engine roaring as he continued to hold his acceleration button. He had some lucky escapes from running into traffic - and easily overcame his competition. Now in front, he was taking short cut turns, but to her, they looked too time consuming. Yunho was trying to drive as properly as possible, and it was affecting his time; she couldn’t help but puff up as she realized it would be an easy win against him. With a record of 2:27:34, Yunho rolled his chair away from the screen and let his best friend take over.

Hands grasping the controller, she took a deep breath to overly-dramatize the situation even further.

“Eat my dust.” She mumbled, and Yunho gave her a curious side eye.

Swiftly she overtook all the NPCs, climbing up to first place. She wasn’t even worried about them to begin with. As the turns approached, Yunho realized she wasn’t showing signs of taking her fingers away from the acceleration button - not until the last second, at least. Her turns were either taken with the help of crashing into a wall or into a stylish, speedy drift. Yunho was baffled, thinking that crashing on purpose to finish faster should be considered as cheating. But he accepted his defeat as her time was 2:14:58, over ten seconds less than him.

Cracking her knuckles, she wore a smug smile as she let Yunho choose the next race for them to play. It was 1 to 0 currently, so he decided he should spice things out now - by choosing a ‘random’ Street X race. He probably forgot to mention to her that Street X were his forte in this game.

Yunho put his focus face on from the moment the cars showed up on screen. For most, this Street X race was difficult to even beat on first place - but he knew what he was doing.

“I hope you had your fun.” He threatened, hands moving effortlessly on the controller to take him through the sharp, abrupt turns which were in Street X - a race type specifically made about taking those turns right, not about speed. Raw talent was dripping off of his fingers, but she didn’t want to feel discouraged just yet. Perhaps her method of using walls to take turns could work here, too-

Now that it was her turn, she realized it wasn’t the case - in here hitting walls was the worst thing you could do. Eyes dashing in between her car and the timer non-stop, she realized she was losing a lot of time correcting her direction if she didn’t brake properly before a turn. By the last lap, she already lost hope, as she reached Yunho’s record and wasn’t done with the race yet.

“Tight game.” She stated, trying to ease the thick competitive air in the room. Yunho just smiled, a sparkle of something naughty in his eyes.

“Would you like to do the honours?” He asked, referring to choosing the drift track, the last race of their competition. He looked so sure of himself, to even offer that she chooses the track; she couldn’t help but feel even more frustrated by that cockyness.

“Yeah.” She answered, not even looking him in the eyes. She knew what track she wanted - the one on the actual streets of the city, which had two off road areas - those were bomb in doing drifts over 50.000 points.

Yunho was surprised she chose such a difficult track, but didn’t really complain. He had recently unlocked this track since he was nearing the end of the game, and so he knew the trick of the off road areas too, especially because he failed them enough times. He collected small drifts here and there on the way to the first special area, then he made sure to catch enough speed to send the back of his car in a beautiful curve, following the form of the turn. He didn’t need to, but he took the risk of connecting that turn to the next one that followed and gathered around 74.000 points in that area only. She was biting her lip, wondering if she still had the nimbleness to beat that.

The next special area gained him about 37.000, and with all the other points collected from smaller drifts, he was able to gain over 130 thousand.

She was already pinching the bridge of her nose, knowing that she would probably lose. It’s been a while since she played this game, and the special drift areas were always a gamble. Yunho couldn’t help but laugh at the tension in her back, giving her a friendly pat to brighten up.

“You got this!” He cheered, because even if he wanted to win, he didn’t like seeing her so discouraged. He often times also got mad when he realized he was being too competitive and not giving anyone a chance to win against him.

She started out just like Yunho, gaining some small scores on the way to the main attraction of the race. As she saw the goal in her eyes, suddenly she struggled to regain control of her car in the midst of the big drift. She was headed straight for the edge, meaning her score would be neutralized if she hit it - so she was forced to stop her car. The special area unfortunately only brought her 55 thousand, a weak number compared to Yunho. She brushed it off and continued on her way, towards the second special area. She had a better feeling about this one, as her car was being much more responsive, and even if the space was smaller, she gained another 50 thousand there too.

But unfortunately, as she hit the finish line, she realized - they both scored in the range of 130 thousand - but hers was exactly that number. Yunho was closer to 140.

With a little dance celebration, Yunho announced he was the winner of the tournament. Seeing him act so goofy, she couldn’t even bring herself to sulk. It’s not like it was unusual for Yunho to win their dumb little competitions, but it would’ve been nice to win one anyway.

“I acknowledge your driving skills, Mr. Jung.” She said with a smirk, offering him a hand to shake.

“You weren’t so bad yourself, well… except the part of taking turns with your face.” Now that the tension was lifted, they were back to being all smiley and supportive of each other.

“What can I say? I like using my head.” Yunho chuckled, grabbing the controller to quit out of the game so he could find some movie to watch while they eat. Remembering that he needed to order some food, he pulled out his phone - and read Wooyoung’s name.

“So… do I need to ask Wooyoung to give you a ‘daring’ punishment?” He used air quotes to express the idea of something naughty. For a while he forgot that this was the penalty of losing, the thought completely slipping his mind as he focused too much on doing well in the game.

“I guess.” She shrugged her shoulders, secretly hoping that he had forgotten and she could’ve avoided doing something so embarrassing.

Hesitant, Yunho opened the messenger app and tapped on Wooyoung’s name. He didn’t know if he was excited about what was about to come.

[Yunho]: Hey Wooyoung, can you come up with a ‘daring’ punishment a girl could do for a guy for losing a game?

[Sent 18:46]

A thick silence enveloped the two as Yunho stared at the screen, waiting for Wooyoung to see his message. They were both hoping the resident jokester of the group would go easy on them this time.

[Seen 18:51]

Five minutes later, Wooyoung saw the message and Yunho watched the three dots dance for a very short amount of time. And, as it turned out, Wooyoung didn’t ask any questions - he gave a straightforward answer.

[Wooyoung]: Oral

His answer had Yunho opening his eyes in pure shock. He glanced at his best friend, who was looking at him expectantly, and then back at the screen.

“Uhm…” He couldn’t even bring himself to mutter such a word to her. Before he knew it, he let his phone down and stared into the distance like a deer in the headlights.

Yes, asking Wooyoung was a bad idea.

“Uhm? Did he answer?” She pressed on, and Yunho couldn’t do much more than nod.

“Look for yourself.” He showed her his phone, and she felt as if she just got hit with a soccer ball in the stomach. Blinking at Yunho in disbelief, she let out a confused puff of air.

“I mean, I expected something like a sexy dance…. But not this. Wooyoung really is another level.” She complained, suddenly looking as lost as Yunho. They both looked like ghosts, the colors drained from their faces.

In truth, both of their heads were racing at that moment - imagining what could happen if they went through with it. Yunho’s face heated up and his body grew heavy, and she was biting her lip. But a common thought was keeping them both grounded; that they were just friends, and nothing more.

Moments later, Yunho was able to collect himself and focus his vision again. She was in distress, even in a haze. He pulled out his phone again, texting Wooyoung to rectify the situation.

[Yunho]: How about something a little bit… more decent. This is my best friend we’re talking about.

Wooyoung read the message instantly after, his fingers fast on the keyboard.

[Wooyoung]: Oh my God it’s her! Why didn’t you tell me! I thought you were finally scoring a lady with those video games of yours!

[Yunho]: I told you guys I was spending time with her today

[Wooyoung]: You did? OOPS

[Yunho]: Yeah, oops. You almost gave me a heart attack

[Wooyoung]: *boner

[Yunho]: DUDE

[Wooyoung]: Okay okay I’m sorry, but you’re the one who asked me outta the blue

[Wooyoung]: Something a little more tame… HMMM

[Wooyoung]: You’re a tall dude, right? How about you have her wear one of your shirts for the rest of the day… but like only your shirt. I bet she’d look cute ;)

[Yunho]: That doesn’t sound that bad, thanks

[Wooyoung]: I can’t wait to get home :P

She dragged her voice suddenly, bringing Yunho back to reality. He didn’t realize how focused he was in his conversation with Wooyoung.

“Uhm, so, yeah! Wooyoung gave you a more tame challenge. He said you should wear one of my shirts for the rest of the day… like, as a dress type thing.” Yunho tried to explain, but he was still nervous from the previous shock and tripping over his own words.

“So wear a boyfriend shirt.” Yunho felt his being vibrate once again at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

“I… guess so.”

“I can do that! That sounds more like a prize than anything, to be honest. You know I have a fixation for your clothes.” She said with a laugh. She seemed to be back to her cheerful self, already walking her way to Yunho’s closet. “Can I choose any shirt?”

“Sure, go ahead.” Still no intonation in his words, Yunho’s mind was not present in the conversation at all. It wasn’t long before he zoned out again.

He couldn’t possibly be attracted to his best friend in such a way. They had a strong spiritual bond, for sure, but it was never anything physical for them. They appreciated each other for who they are, so he never asked himself questions like these before.

Or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He heard the door handle move and then saw her come back in, legs bare and sexy, her small frame basically swimming in his large shirt. She sat down on her chair and melted back into it without a care in the world. She looked comfortable, even.

“So, are we ordering that food?” She asked, but in Yunho’s daze, he missed the smirk playing on her lips. If only he knew how much she was enjoying this.

Forcing her to stay put, Yunho was the one to receive the food at the front door. He sighed in relief when he managed to put a blanket over her, as they nestled up in bed to watch a movie and enjoy their food. Out of sight, out of mind, they say.

His torture began again as soon as they got back into gaming - this time choosing to do their usual foolery - playing Minecraft together, one being in charge of the mouse and the other in charge of the keyboard. No wonder they never made any real progress on their world, since they could never be in sync with each other to actually defend themselves from zombies. ‘

Time flew by as they laughed and played, but the rustle of keys at the front door still managed to startle Yunho out of his mind. Panicked, he got up to throw her pants back at her, words leaving his mouth a little too fast.

“How about you put those back on now.” Cocking an eyebrow at him, she hung them on the chair, clearly refusing to do so.

“Why would I? The punishment says for the rest of the day - or as long as I’m here.”

“Yes, but-” Yunho pursed his lips to the side. He didn’t know how to word his thoughts. To add more pressure, the door to his room swung open and San came inside to throw his phone on the bed. He glanced at Yunho’s best friend briefly and they exchanged hellos before he went back to the living room, where the boys were being loud over something.

Yunho breathed out in relief that San was nice enough not to stare. Something about other men seeing her like this irked him, even more so that she was wearing his shirt.

“But?” She urged him to continue speaking, getting off of the chair to stand in front of him. Being the tall guy Yunho was, it wasn’t often that she had the opportunity to stare him down like that. Yunho gulped as he felt his throat dry up, taking in the image of his friend - no, an attractive woman - looking at him with such a suggestive expression.

“I don’t want anyone else to see you like this…” He mumbled, the beauty before his eyes already making him breathless.

“Why not?” She teased.

“Because…” There wasn’t any logical answer in his mind, or even a concrete idea. “I think we need to reevaluate our relationship.” Letting out a healthy laugh, she wasted no time to climb in his lap. Yunho was happy, perhaps the most relieved he’d been the entire day. He didn’t know there was such a sexual tension in between them until it finally dissipated.

“Finally!” She exclaimed.

“You think so too?” She hummed in response, eyes locking with his lips as she did.

The kiss itself felt good - like two magnets clicking into place. What felt even better though, was being able to accept all the feelings he’s been burying deep inside himself. He was wrong in thinking something more wasn’t possible between them.

A loud knock echoed from the door, and Wooyoung’s voice could be heard screaming from the other side.

“You two decent?”

“No!” Yunho yelled back. They certainly weren’t a sight he’d want his bandmates to see - his shirt was hiking up on her thighs, their arms tangled around each other’s bodies.

“What do you mean ‘no’??!” This time it was HongJoong’s voice, and Yunho knew he messed up. Almost effortlessly, he got up with her still around his hips and grabbed her pants on the way to the bathroom.

“Okay, but seriously get dressed now.” Yunho said, and only got a wink from her in response. He rolled his eyes and went back into the room to let her change.

He really was a fool to think this wouldn’t work out - he already loved every second of it.

#Jung Yunho #yunho #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fluff #yunho imagines #yunho fluff #yunho scenarios #yunho Fanfiction #Jung Wooyoung #Ateez smut #Yunho smut #kpop Fanfiction #best friends to lovers

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sardonicallys · 3 years

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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗼 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿

mobile masterlist | web masterlist

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Hyunjin + Reader

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: Fluff (just a touch of angst)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: Vague mentions of the news reports pertaining to accusations unproven

𝗦𝘆𝗽𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: Time heals all wounds, but exactly how much time does it take? For the past few months, you spent almost all your free time with Hyunjin, entertaining one another with the mundane company of everyday passings. Rather than being bad at expressing yourself, you found that your silence could support him in a way that allowed him to figure out what was going on in the gray matter, without any pressure. Besides what good would it do if you told him if he didn't believe it himself? You're never too far, however, always keeping up with his wandering thoughts to catch him whenever he fell out of his mind.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1,349

𝗔𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: Just as everyone else is anticipating with eager hopes, I want to manifest the safe return and exciting journey ahead for Hyunjin. We're ready to welcome you, whenever it's time, whenever you're ready.

The valley of Seoul was scooped out perfectly like a spoon drove in and hollowed the crust of land out, dolloping mountain ranges that hugged the capital. An advantage of the uneven terrain left much of the vegetation intact, tracing along the origins of trees that grew through millenniums that most of us have never seen. Nestled in the tall grass, the shade of a sprouted ginkgo tree’s arm gently drifted along with the summer breeze, brushing its shadow over the paled skin of your a-little-more-than-a friend a-little-less-than-a boyfriend counterpart, as if washing away his thoughts and troubled memories into the fan shaped leaves. Your stolen glance captured the sun just barely brushing along his cheekbones as you watched the imprinted shade of his lashes dance across his skin, the two of you abandoned somewhere in a park that was tucked away, despite being in Seodaemun.

There’s a sense of guilt, allowing your focus to be whisked away by the ethereal beauty of the focused boy before you when his intention of inviting you was to draw together amongst the scenic backdrop of nature, and perhaps to mentally escape for a while from the cruel cacophony of fabricated and exaggerated stories that were shrouding his every waking moment that never quite belonged to him. Visual art, particularly sketching, was a new hobby he picked up — with ease, might you add — not too long ago. You listened to the consistent strikes of graphite against the thick sketch paper, cadencing amongst the whistling of leaves as you unconsciously began to trace the profile you saw before you, sloping from Hyunjin’s forehead and nose before curving the tip of your pencil to create his lips. You never dared mention the sudden increase in invites you received after seeing the slew of news that belittled his character, knowing he could never speak honestly on what actually occurred, on what an average life of most kids his age likely reflected. People and the public knew better, of course — you hoped — but you most of all, did.

“I’m just taking a break,” you recall him mention, unprovoked, one night while you both silently ate ice cream on your rooftop. But he was stiff, his eyes projected into the distance of the night sky but you could tell they were galaxies away, swirling somewhere you had never been. These words seemed more for himself than for anyone else.

“I know, you needed it anyways,” you assure him, hoping your words can envelope him in an embrace you were too afraid to offer, afraid it wouldn’t be enough to carry his worries.

Hyunjin, that night, looked so different than right now before you. Shoulders slouched over his canvas, he let the pencil sit on the surface of his sketch pad as it rolled down and rested against his abdomen, flicking and stretching his fingers before making a quiet fatigued sound. You bit back a grin as you slowly turned Hyunjin’s lips into thatched leaves, drawing in the veins of stems before retracing your way up his profile to create the foundation of thickets. Smoothing out petals that sprouted from the crown of his head, the portraiture disappeared as it grew into a bundle of amaryllis, a symbol of strength, the narrow and pointed tips reaching out in every direction as you sealed a wish into each stroke of your graphite — please give him strength, as an artist and as a person.

So consumed by your mantra and creation, you didn’t notice the sudden uninvited stray pencil mark in the corner of your sketch pad. Since you had taken too long to register the first attack, a flash of flesh sprung past your vision as yet another mark appeared. Furrowing your brows, you looked up at Hyunjin to see him feigning concentrated contemplation while staring at his drawing, twirling his pencil between his fingers. You were tempted to return the favor but decided against it as you took your eraser and buffed it over the mark. Continuing to sketch, Hyunjin carefully sat as high as he could to peek at what you were so immersed in. Flowers? Casually rotating his head back and forth, he wondered where you were capturing them from.

Using your kneaded eraser to adapt to the dimensions along your shaded petals, you gingerly created shadowing onto your page before watching Hyunjin’s pencil run along the spiral of your pad, back and forth, while it clicked out notes and nostalgia. Peering up at him, you tilted your head curiously before nudging his pencil away with your own but not before he playfully jabbed the tip in your direction, emulating a saber. The body of your pencil suddenly in defense as you blocked the flick of his makeshift weapon. Soft taps of the tools countered back and forth as you felt your smile deepen into your lips.

“…So you’ll only give me attention if I challenge you to a duel?” Hyunjin’s voice reeled your eyes up as you focused your awareness on him, belatedly realizing he had not as he flipped his pencil and poked your hand with the backend of the instrument, “Ha, I win.”

Snorting, you rolled your eyes before shooing his hand away, "You know you're the one who said you wanted to draw."

"And I did."

"Did you now?" Combing your fingers through your hair, you returned to your unfinished sketch as you smudged the uneven blends of your pencil residue, giving the image the realism you desired.

"Mhmm, around the time you couldn't stop staring at me."

Abruptly, you stiffened before attempting to play off your awkward body language, "...Who said I was staring at you?"

"No one said that, I just saw you staring at me."

"Well you saw wrong."

The corners of his eyes creased downwards, drawing an imaginary line that pinned the ends of his mouth and dragged them up to meet in a harmonious smile, his expression exuberant and full of delight as he cackled from your response. The warm and pungent fall of his voice warmed you deeper and more fluidly than the sun above you, causing the infectious sound to travel up and down your throat as you returned his laughter with your own. When you both finally subside, he hummed quietly in satisfaction, "...You know, I don't know if you saw it but, we won."

Something clutched at your chest as the tear ducts in your eyes began to swell at the word we instead of they. For months, he had been using the other pronoun, removing himself from association as if he brought a stained shame. They curated this amazing choreography, did you see it? They arranged the song to fit this refreshing theme. They were exhausted but look how hard they pulled through. Even though you distinctly remember several late nights when you pillow talked to sleep and listened to Hyunjin's tired whispers of confessional involvement, and how he supported and encouraged them as an unlisted creative amongst their project. You knew it had always been we, but you waited patiently for him to realize it, all on his own. All these words you were unable to vocalize, afraid the dull stone in your throat would evaporate and melt down your cheeks in the form of tears seemed to reach Hyunjin as he brushed your hair away from your face and tenderly pressed his lips against your own while cradling your cheek in his palm, a quiet form of gratitude that meant more to you than anything he could have ever said otherwise.

You wished to keep these selfish moments for you and you alone, quietly showered in his undivided attention because you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy his company. Now more than ever. But as he grew into his own strength, evolved and molted into a new skin that prepared him for the journey ahead, his long rest well deserved and savored, you wanted only his happiness. From the looks of it, it seemed he was ready to pursue and receive it too.

#stray kids #stray kids scenario #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin scenario #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin #stray kids one shot #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfics #stray kids fan fic

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avengershumanresources · 3 years

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blood 2 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut (like, wayyy down the line), adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 1 - part 3

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Chapter Playlist

2 - a night at the pub

You parted from Stephen the moment you saw Natalia and James in the crowd at the pub. They were sipping from large beer steins, listening to a bard sing a sorrowful song about the death of the great Iron Defender.

When the music ended and the pub applauded, the entertainer switched to something more upbeat to soothe the mood.

“A bit sentimental for you two, isn’t it?” you asked, pulling back your cloak. Stephen had transfigured your overbearing mourning garb into something that would better fit in the village.

“How on earth did you slip out tonight?” James asked in surprise, brows raised to his hairline. “I would’ve though t they’d have had you under lock and key.”

“Everyone’s a bit... distracted, believe it or not,” you replied coolly, taking a seat at their table toward the back of the room.

“So we hear,” Natalia leaned in. “Any news of the next king? I have a wager with the barkeep’s wife.”

“Anthony has an uncle who still lives,” Stephen supplied, taking a seat at your side. “Or so my companions informed me. Until Peter is of age, he would be the presumptive heir.”

“What do we know about him?” Natalia asked quietly, lowering her head conspiratorially.

“Nothing,” you replied with a long sigh. “He’s been at the winter palace my whole life.”

“Nothing suspicious about that,” James shrugged and took a swallow of his drink. “Nat, what do ya think about Asgard this time of year?”

“Stop up James,” the redhead nudged her companion and returned her attention to you and Stephen. “And if he doesn’t give up the job in six months?”

“He is removed,” Stephen replied bluntly.

“Yikes, you’re scary, did you know that?” James murmured.

“I’ve been told,” the sorcerer grunted, flagging down a barmaid for a drink. He could already tell it was going to be a long night.

“Don’t forget, you owe me,” you reminded him.

“Lose a bet?” Natalia asked in amusement, eye rating between the duo.

“I caught him enchanting my tea without permission,” you replied.

“Uh oh, broke the one rule,” Natalia mused, watching Strange for a reaction.

“It was a protection spell, hardly worth mentioning, I cast them over the princess all the time,” he snorted under his breath.

“All the time?” James asked in a voice low enough that only Stephen could hear.

“That’s dangerous conjecture, Barnes,” Stephen warned. “My responsibilities include keeping my student, who happens to be the princess, safe.”

“If we were being honest, if I were kidnapped or traded away, it wouldn’t do much to the kingdom,” you reasoned, eagerly grabbing the first mug of ale before Stephen could take a sip. He waved a hand over the drink, ensuring it hadn’t been poisoned, before you took a long swallow. “Peter is the one who has to stay safe. Who knows where we’d be without a true heir?”

“You know that’s ridiculous,” Nat snorted. “Gods, you’re so dramatic sometimes.”

“My father’s funeral was today, give me a little sympathy,” you huffed in response, taking another swig of your drink.

“To King Anthony,” James stood up, his voice bellowing through the pub. You ducked your head down into Stephen’s shoulder while onlookers cheered and joined in the toast. “May he rest in peace!”

The pub shouted in response, with steins clinking against one another and another song starting up.

“We’re trying to draw attention away from the princess, you oaf,” Natalia muttered tersely toward James.

“Who would be looking for her here?” the brunette assassin shrugged. “Besides, no one would be able to slip past the three of us.”

Stephen snorted under his breath, giving the room a quick glance to ensure any unwanted attention hadn’t been drawn toward them. James did have a point. Someone in hiding would seldom encourage a room to drink.

Besides, he looked over at you laughing over something Natalia had said, you were genuinely smiling for the first time in weeks. The risk was worth a little relief.

He nursed at his drink while you signaled for another round for yourself and your friends. Stephen did well to avoid becoming drunk in your presence, mostly for your protection, but also as a means of avoiding embarrassing himself in front of you.

The last thing he needed was you armed with an artillery of teasing that he couldn’t even recall.

As the booze flowed and the music picked up, James grabbed your hand and pulled you to the center of the room, dancing with some of the villagers to the upbeat song.

Stephen watched, almost transfixed by the way you spun and twirled so lightheartedly to the sounds. As if you hadn’t a care in the world, and your life was back to the simpler time when he’d first met you.

“You’re drooling a little,” Natalia chuckled over his shoulder.

Stephen’s head whipped around, unconsciously wiping at his mouth before scowling at the nosy redhead.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, doing his best to keep his composure under her hard gaze.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” she hummed, eyes falling where you and James continued your antics. “You’ve seen the man I’ve dedicated myself to.”

“You know the oaths I have to take,” he murmured.

“Aren’t you the one in charge of said oaths?” she challenged coyly. “I’d never understood your antiquated ways. I would argue that loving another gives you more reason to stay dedicated to your craft.”

She had a point, Stephen reasoned to himself. The ways he’d worked to ensure your protection, the kingdom’s protection, and the advancement of his knowledge at your urging was beyond any work he’d done on his own at Kamar-Tai.

Still, the distractions. The liabilities.

By the Vishanti, if an enemy were to ever get their hands on you… oaths be damned. He’d burn the world to the ground to ensure your safety, and that was the problem.

“She’s going to marry a prince, and have kings and queens as babies,” Stephen replied coolly. "We have our roles and our duties.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind giving her a few babies,” Natalia smirked up at him, laughing when his face went as scarlet as her hair.

“Regardless,” his voice cracked slightly, adding even more to the embarrassment when Natalia quirked a brow. “I would need permission from the king to consider breaking my oaths and wedding a princess.”

“Oh, you’d marry her? That’s a new development,” she replied, eyes falling behind him while you and James returned.

“I’m going to need another ale,” you complained, staring down the empty mug after chugging down your second drink.

“You’re going to need to watch how much you drink,” Stephen replied. “Remember last time. The hungover elixir only works so well.”

“You have a hangover elixir?” James asked. “Gods, I’d murder a man for one of those. Maybe it’s time I go to Kamar-Taj. Find my true purpose.”

“Don’t look at me,” Stephen held up a hand. “Wong is the one who brews it. He claims it’s an old family recipe.”

“Might have to pay Master Wong a visit tonight,” James stated, sliding a pair of fresh ales toward you and Natalia. “This one’s on me.”

“Are you going to tell me which lord you stole the coin from?” you asked, sipping at the drink before Stephen could check its contents.

“It’s the one with the wart on his nose,” James snickered behind his drink. “I picked him specifically because you mentioned he beats his wife.”

“He’s getting another visit from the Widow in a few nights,” Natalia added with a wicked grin.

“I don’t pity the man-,” you started coughing, trying to clear your throat. “-Ah, excuse me-!”

Caught in a fit of coughs, Stephen’s focus became you. You couldn’t catch a breath, even when he tapped your back, and you hadn’t had anything to eat- the ale. A wave of his hand confirmed the liquid had been tampered with.

“Find out who served that ale,” he demanded the assassins, grabbing your arm and hauling you outside of the pub.

You gasped for air, clutching at your throat while he drew up a portal back to the observatory. If this was what was happening with the protection enchantment in your system, he hesitated to think of the alternative.

Scooping you up, he stepped through and situated you on one of the chaise’s strewn throughout the room.

He thumbed through his collection of vials before finding a generic antidote and opening your mouth to pour the liquid in.

It worked- kind of. You were able to take a few shallow breaths, but your eyes rolled back and you collapsed, falling back against the chaise.

This was literally his worse case scenario. Everything he’d been afraid of, because he’d let you convince him to go out, and because he’d distracted himself with his conversation with Natalia.

He summoned a spell book, fingers finding the page he recalled from his apprentice days. It was written to purge someone of any toxic entities within them, be it poison or dark magic. Moving his hands through the air and reciting the runes, your body was overtaken by a wisp of winding yellow light.

It threaded itself through you, eventually hitting the source of the poison in your chest and pulling the toxic liquid free in a cloud of rancid black smoke. That was peculiar. Generally such a reaction was associated with dark magic rather than a consumed poison.

Poison was usually a dark red or green.

You stirred the moment the spell had finished its work. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you looked to Stephen in wide-eyed horror.

“I was wrong,” you stated, hand to your chest.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m not dying,” you answered quickly. “Stephen, I am so sorry… I underestimated my… wait, Peter.”

Stephen understood your meaning immediately. He instructed you to stay within the safety of the observatory and opened a portal to the outside of the prince’s chambers.

The knights on guard jumped at the sudden appearance of the sorcerer, who took no time for pleasantries.

“An attempt was made on the princess’ life,” he informed the duo. “Have you heard any disturbance from the prince?”

“No one has been in or out since the prince retired,” Sir Samuel informed him, looking to Sir Clinton with a shrug. “He hasn’t made a noise.”

Just as Samuel finished his sentence, there was a loud crash from within the room.

The guards charged in, finding the prince in a struggle with a masked man. The prince was doing his best to fight off the dagger brandishing assassin, kicking him in the chest when he was distracted by the entrance of the guards.

When the assassin realized he was outnumbered, Stephen saw his hands move rapidly to open a portal, and before anyone could intervene, he was gone.

“Your highness!” Samuel rushed to the prince’s side while Stephen ignited the candles in the room with a snap of his fingers. “Are you injured?”

“Sir Clinton, get to the queen and Princess Morgan,” Peter ordered after catching his breath. He looked to Stephen. “And the older princess?”

“Safe,” came the sorcerer’s response.

“You said an attempt was made on her life,” Samuel retorted.

“A what?” Peter glared up at the sorcerer.

“I took care of it, she is safe,” Stephen assured him. “Are you injured, your highness?”

“I’m fine,” he brushed off the two men and stood up. “I want the guard awoken and informed of what has happened.”

He turned to Stephen.

“I want the wards reconstructed around the castle,” he continued. “I don’t trust the foundations of previous Masters. If you must call in sorcerers from Kamar-Taj, we will provide what they need.”

“Sir, your great uncle is due to arrive in a fortnight,” Samuel reminded him. “Shall we inform the convoy of the attempts on the royal family?”

Peter looked to Stephen with a frown. One of the young king’s first major decisions.

“Let’s address the question in the morning,” he decided. “I want to know my family is safe.”

As if on cue, Queen Virginia and Princess Morgan were led into the room by Sir Clinton and Sir Steven.

“Peter,” the queen pulled the prince into a relieved embrace. “Clint told us what had happened.”

“I recommend we reconvene in the throne room,” Steven suggested with a nervous glance around the chambers.

“The wards are strongest there,” Stephen agreed with a curt nod. “I’ll go retrieve the princess.”

He returned to the observatory and found you sitting, staring down at the floor in deep thought.

“Princess?” he called softly. You leapt up at his voice, hurrying over.

“Are they safe?”

“Peter was attacked, but he fought the assassin off,” Stephen informed her.

“And mother? And Morgan?” you bit your bottom lip anxiously.

“Safe,” he confirmed.

You let out a relieved sigh, your hands trembling slightly at your sides.

“Sir Steven suggested we go to the throne room to discuss our next options,” he offered his arm and she took it gratefully.

He hoped she didn’t feel his own tremors. His own panic at the thought of losing her. The aftershocks of their new reality and his worst nightmare.

“I won’t allow this to happen again,” he promised her quietly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assured him, your voice was shaky. “I was hurting, and whoever did this, acted on our vulnerabilities. I’d been selfish to hide in the village when I should have been by my family.”

“You slipped up once,” he countered, slowing his pace down the hall. He could have easily drawn a portal to the room, but he figured you both needed some time to manage your emotions. “You’re human. We make mistakes. It just happened we both made a mistake at the same time tonight. I wouldn’t have allowed you to go if I hadn’t been confident in my judgement of the situation.”

Your hand trailed down to his and you gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you Stephen,” you murmured, holding on a moment longer before replacing it on his arm.

He felt his heart give a small throb at the minute action, his fingers left tingling, and not from the damage from the accident.

“Always at your pleasure, your highness.”

(---)

3 - a new day

TAG LIST (Message to be added to this fic or my general tag list!):

@ayamenimthiriel @drstrangely-strange-deactivated @ladynothing @im-a-bi-disaster-help @idkwhatthisislol

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taeescript · 3 years

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IV. Script of the Angel (m)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 >> This is the story of three very different people. A successful novelist, a blossoming artist and a dedicated cop. They seem to have nothing in common. Yet, they are continually drawn to each other. It is as if their fates have been intertwined. Written. That they must meet.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> ft. jungkook and jimin primarily.

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 >> policeman!jimin, author!jungkook, painter!reader, serialkiller!XXX; a classic game of cat and mouse

𝔴/𝔠 >> 9.1k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 >> mature themes depicted. due to the explicit nature of the topic (serial killers, murders, violence, sexual content, infidelity etc.) this is rated 18+. to spare storytelling: please consider yourself warned. sexual content present.

𝔞/𝔫 >> another long chapter. sorry! the oc is as opposite to me as day is to night, but i have always enjoyed writing characters who are different. i feel like i’m being challenged to expand my own writing skills. as always, enjoy (: feedback and comments always appreciated. (i am curious: do you prefer long or short chapters?)

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The taxi arrives much earlier than any of you anticipate. Jungkook is halfway through telling you about the unfortunate event of being kicked out of his rented room when the annoyed-looking driver quickly shoves you both inside. He asks you where you are headed. You lean forward and give him the address of your house. The driver mutters how the drive is less than five minutes away, but he accepts the job nevertheless. “How about you, Sir?” the driver asks Jungkook. Jungkook is at a loss of words until you intercede. “Same place,” you say. Jungkook gives you a confused look. “You said you don’t have any place to stay tonight so I’m extending an offer. Also, sort of like a thank you for finding and staying with me through this storm.” Your words come out much shyer than you had anticipated. He gives you a slight smile. “Are you sure it’s wise for you to invite a stranger to your house?” You blush. “You’re not really a stranger.” “Ah, I’m not? Well I’m a suspect to a murder case.” “No, you’re not! Jimin was only talking to you as a witness.” “A witness? He seemed a little too hostile for that.” As the conversation had carried on, you didn’t notice how close he became until you turned to come face to face with him. The small smile he always has continues to linger on his lips. You pull back and turn to hide the flush on your face that you know for sure is present. Once the heat seems to have left, you glance at him again. He is still regarding you with curiosity. Extending a hand towards him you say, “$10 per night. I’ll be your landlady and you’re renting a room from me.” He laughs and you can’t help but stare with wonder at how white and straight his teeth are.

...

The Body is a miraculous item of study. Inside, we have these little chemical messengers that act on receptors to tell us: wake! At the same time, they tell us: sleep! Just what are these chemical messengers that run around us like tiny men in a sleep-wake factory? First, when we are getting ready to sleep, Melatonin is produced in the pineal gland to send us a message telling us that it is time to enter slumber. Their levels increase as the level of darkness increases. Once our body is asleep, a surge of multiple hormones play a role. You have growth hormone from the pituitary gland telling (a child in particular) to grow and repair tissue; you have antidiuretic hormone (ADH) increasing so we don’t have to get up and pee in the middle of the night; you have oxytocin that may peak at about five hours of sleep influencing the content of our dreams. You wait nervously outside the bathroom door. You had both returned to your house and you had changed into a comfortable pair of sweats and a sleeveless top. Your hair was tied in a bun on your head; your scalp itching to remind you that it had been a while since you washed your hair. However, you had more pressing matters at hand. You had told Jungkook that he was allowed to use the shower first but after drinking one too many cups of water – your throat was so dry – you now desperately needed to use the washroom. The water is still running and you can slightly feel the heat escaping the warm room through the small crack of the door. It was ajar and the smell of your shampoo wafted out to meet your nose. It made you wonder if your shampoo had always been so sweet and inviting. As you are the only resident of the house, there had never been a need for multiple bathrooms and thus your only solution is to patiently wait outside until your guest is finished. After what felt like five minutes but in actuality five seconds, you take a small peek into the bathroom. The glass shower door has been fogged up and you can only see a very hazy silhouette of its current occupant. If you were to dash in and release everything in your bladder at a fast enough speed, perhaps Jungkook would never notice that you would be in there. Just as long as you moved fast enough. You wanted to weigh the pros and cons of this decision but your bladder would not let your mind concentrate. Before you could control your body, you rush into the bathroom. Everything but the feeling of pleasure from the release of the buildup of pressure in your pelvis is forgotten. You close your eyes and let out a satisfied sigh. When you are finished, you deftly stand and flush the toilet. You momentarily lean over the toilet, reveling in the new weightlessness of your body, when the realization of the scenario you are in hits you. You had just walked into a man showering in your house. Not only that, you had used the toilet while he was washing up (naked) less than a feet away. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now, Jungkook would definitely see you in here. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now, Jungkook would think you are a peeping tom. If you really didn’t get out of the bathroom now – It is too late, however. You hear his voice from behind you, “Well, this is a surprise.” You turn as slowly as you can. Jungkook stands with the white towel around his waist. He does not look much different than when you had seen him drenched by the rain, but this time you are able to smell the masculine scent of body wash off of him. The first time in the rain, you had been unable to help yourself and glance at his defined abdominal muscles through his soaked shirt, but this time you choose not to peel your eyes away from the sight. The gulp you takes makes its way slowly down your throat. “I needed to use the toilet really badly,” you somehow managed to squeak. He tucks the end of the towel into the side all the while looking at you with a teasing smirk. You do not need to look in the mirror behind you to know the shade your face has turned. “I’ll be going now,” you murmur and turn to leave the room. “Without washing your hands?” he teases you. As if he now is not regarding you as a full out pervert, he probably thought you as unclean as well. You can’t remember what you say in response to that as you shuffle to the sink. The water is warm when it runs out of the faucet. Your mind is unfocused on the task in front of you as you can only think of ways to escape or talk your way out of this situation. “How are you supposed to wash any the germs away if you scrub like that?” You feel his voice vibrate along your back. You immediately tense up when his arms wrap from behind around you. His hands gently take your slimmer hands into his own and together they move through the lathering actions. He pumps the hand soap and his lips become dangerously close to your cheek when he reaches in front. “Clean between each finger and the side of your palm. People often forget to wash the area around the thumb and most of their less dominant hand,” he continues to lecture you. “Just be still,” the plea to your body and mind only being silently voiced out in desperation. There is no extra cloth to wipe your hands dry and so he uses the towel around his waist instead. Each action he does only made you become ever more anxious and self-conscious. When he seemed satisfied with you, he lets you walk away. You will your legs to maintain its strength as you take the steps needed to exit the small steamy room. You are stopped again when he says, “Are you always so innocent?” There is a part of you that wants to turn to look at him, but another part warns you that if you do, a larger temptation will face you. He strolls to stand before you. His eyes slowly make their way from your toes to the top of your forehead; then his gaze holds you steadily in place. You swallow again under his scrutiny. Taking a step towards you, he slides a finger under the strap of you tank top. The simple action makes you shiver. “Tell me, how long have you been living alone?” Your mind tells you not to answer him. What are you doing anyways? Just an hour ago you were thinking about Baekhyun and now you are being consumed by Jungkook. “How long has it been since you’ve been… touched?” his question comes out barely above a whisper – that is how close he is to you now. “I shouldn’t – ” you words are suffocated by his kiss. His lips mold until they wrap around yours. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you fall into him with such speed that it scares you. You feel both dread and thrill in your stomach. He tastes warm, that is the only thing your mind is capable of detecting. Other than that, your brain can not function and you feel yourself shiver in his embrace. You wonder if he has his eyes closed as well or if he was looking at you. Perhaps if you opened your eyes you would have an answer to your question yet you felt afraid of doing so. He pulls you waist closer to him and the dew on his chest seeps through your thin top. His skin is warm, but the now-cold water causes your nipples to become erect. He can feel them straining through the top, but rather than having his hand rise up to meet it, he slides his hand deeper into your pants. Your body tenses up at the invasion. “Relax,” the single word slurs as they are passed between your lips. The suggestion comes in the form of a command and your body strangely listens. With his hand, he forcefully grips the left cheek of your behind and roughly presses you lower body into his. The simultaneous sensation of pleasure and pain runs through your body. His other free hand brushes the nape of you neck. Your hands act of their own accord, and you find them running through his hair, all the while as he tugs on your lips; all the while that you become wrapped in his embrace. Your fingers become brushed with water, and you draw a wet finger down the middle of his back. It is his moan you hear this time, and the thrill rushes through your body again. For the next few moments, the two of you are captivated with exploring each other’s body. You think that he is about to lift your shirt off when instead his hand slips through the barrier created by your underwear. You freeze again. His lips leave yours and trace a pathway until he stands behind you, and your back is pressed tightly against his torso. All the while, his hand makes a crawling rotation until they rest on you lower abdominal. You place a shaking hand on top of this. You don’t even notice that your fingers have become icy cold. “Trust me,” he whispers into your ear. His voice is so low that you mind barely registers what he has said. You heart rises in speed in proportion to his hand that moves out from beneath yours and continually slides downward.

...

You wake with a beating heart. Your eyes fly open, and they are greeted with the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars you had placed on your ceiling. It had been a dream. Your breathing fights to become regular again, but the more you think about what you had awoken from, the more it loses in its battle. You know it is all a dream, but why was it then that you still feel the pressure on you lower abdominal? With a crack, your mind finally reels out of its stupor and a new burn in your stomach causes you to flush again. The act of sex is not foreign to you. You had given that away to Baekhyun the night you realized you were truly in love with him – the night he had proposed to you. But that had happened a long time ago and since his disappearance, you had never given yourself to another man. The thought had never even passed through you. So why was it that you had these thoughts now? Towards a man that you had only just met? Also, how was it that he could make you do something like this? Your hand slides out from your underwear and the band’s near soundless snap practically hands you its embarrassing reality on a gold platter. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had touched yourself. The concept was always too taboo and awkward for you to embrace. You were also not a person that became aroused by sexual thoughts, yet a simple dream had made you lose control of your body. You wiped your hands on the bedsheets, and turn onto your side in bed so you would no longer feel the pressure of gravity on your already tense body. Jeon Jungkook. You only invited him at the spur of the moment. You had both returned home and wordlessly showered and got into bed. You had offered to make a simple meal but he had kindly rejected telling you that he was too tired. He had also jokingly told you not to worry about breakfast tomorrow as it was the least he could do in return for letting him sleep at your place. Continuing on, you told him that he was allowed to use your bedroom so he would be more comfortable but he had patted your small sofa instead. He always carried a pillow with him and told you he could fall asleep anywhere as long as he had it with him. You squeeze your eyes shut. Why? What was this? Who is this man that has barged into your safe house?

More importantly, what is he doing to you? You curl into a tighter ball and press your thighs closer together.

...

The scent of sweet in combination to savory fills your nose and sends a chill through your body. Your eyes remain closed, still infused with slumber but you bring the blanket closer to you. A small breeze sends another intoxicating spiral towards your nose. It smells like pancakes. Perhaps with a thick layer of maple syrup and a cube of butter. There is also something that reminds you of salt – bacon. Sizzling, warm, crunchy bacon. The distinct aroma of coffee is blended in there as well. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you open your eyes. You yelp. Jungkook nearly tips the coffee cup onto your drawer when the sound suddenly occurs. He looks down and sees your wide eyes staring up at him. He meets them but you quickly shift your pupils. You look… nervous. Seeing the unexpected visitor makes you remember the events of last night. Your palms start to sweat and you only draw the covers closer to your chest while sitting up. The corner of the sheet dips past your shoulder and he catches the flash of smooth skin. “Sorry to wake you,” he scratches his jaw embarrassedly, “I saw you were asleep and I promised breakfast. I thought I’d try to quietly slip in and leave it by your bedside.” You eye the said meal on your drawer and note that your nose had not lied to you. “It’s okay,” you try to say. However, your voice is groggy with sleep and so you clear it once. “It’s okay,” you say clearer this time, “But you really didn’t have to.” “It’s nothing. I’m an early riser anyways.” He makes a motion to leave. “Wait,” you call after him. He turns back to look at you. His gaze is piercing and the strange flush that never failed to make an appearance returns. “I’ll join you outside,” you tell him. Smiling, he nods. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

...

When you had left, Jimin had sat down at his desk feeling extremely dejected. He was supposed to protect you and make sure you never shed another tear. That was his promise to his best friend. Yet here he is, as the cause of your pain once again.

“Sir, the files you had requested.” Yoongi knocks on his door. As the youngest detective on the team, he is often coerced into doing the grunt work. But his tenacious and hard-working attitude gave him rise on Jimin’s list of people he respected. Jimin tilts his head to peer above the top of his cluttered desk. New files had been opened along with the scatter of older yellowing papers. His whiteboard is nearing a grey colour at the amount of times he has written things down and then erased them. Yoongi listens and is about to leave his senior alone but stops at the door. “Sir, if I may, will you allow me to make a comment?” the younger asks solemnly. Jimin turns to regard him. His eyesight blurs and he has to hold onto the corner of the desk to steady himself. Quickly masquerading the moment of weakness, he coughs and stands straight again. “You haven’t left the station in three days. You sleep at the desk and your back is in so much pain you shuffle to get coffee. It smells of Chinese take-out and stale pizza in here with another strange concoction of coffee and sweat.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at him. Yoongi clears his throat but does not waver in telling Jimin his mind. “Go home, Sir. You need some rest. The case will still be here when you return. It’ll also be of benefit when you return with refreshed eyes and mind.” Yoongi stands still all the while looking forward. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Jimin walking towards him. His mouth starts to become dry knowing the harsh words he will hear from the his senior for speaking out of place.

Jimin tiredly places a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi rotates his head in surprise. Sighing, he says, “You’re right. My body is on the verge of breaking down.” He sniffs once. “And I do smell like shit.”

Yoongi chuckles, both out of nervousness and relief.

“I’m leaving the team in your hands then,” Jimin grabs his jacket from the coat hanger.

“Me?” Yoongi says astonished, “What about Lieutenant Namjoon?”

The laugh draws more strength from Jimin’s lungs than he anticipates. “I haven’t seen that guy for the past three days in the station, and both you and I know I’ve been living here. You’re young, but I like your attitude. The others like you too.”

Yoongi cannot help but smile at the praise. He salutes as Jimin walks out the door. “I’ll do my absolute best!”

“I expect nothing less,” Jimin calls out and waves.

...

He had fully intended to walk home, but there are so many thoughts in his head he needed fresh air to wash out the stale one in his lungs and to clear out his mind.

Sitting at the park just a block away from the station, he takes a small bite of the cookie he picked up from the station’s café. It is sickening sweet and he wonders how he had lived on these cookies when he used to pull all-nighters for previous cases.

“I knew I’d find you here,” a voice interrupts his quiet.

Jimin looks up and sees Namjoon smiling at him. Namjoon’s hair is swept back and he is sporting a white polo shirt along with khaki pants. His police jacket is slung over his arm and hides his badge within. At a quick glance, Namjoon looks like any normal civilian enjoying the autumn afternoon.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Jimin lazily greets his friend.

Namjoon takes a seat beside Jimin. In one hand, he holds a brown paper back and this is what he extends towards Jimin.

Taking a peek inside, Jimin notes a container that has some type of potato salad along with another stacked container with mixed rice.

“Youngji told me to pass this to you,” Namjoon answers his unasked question, “We thought you could do without any more of the crappy station café food – full of MSG and sugar.”

The smiling face of Namjoon’s soon-to-be wife enters Jimin’s vision at the mention of her name. The two had recently moved in together and there were days when Jimin felt envious when hearing about Namjoon brag about his fiancée’s skills in the kitchen.

“Thanks,” Jimin says.

“I’m not slacking on the job by the way,” Namjoon says.

“You’re not? I don’t recall seeing you in the office for the past couple of days.”

“I got called into a meeting with the board of directors. They wanted an update on this Angel Killer.”

“Angel Killer, huh? Quite original.”

“Not my call on what we name the perps.”

A lull in the conversation comes to as Jimin caves into the meal set before him.

“Not a spinach and green bean casserole, I see,” Jimin jokes.

Namjoon laughs. Starting from a few weeks before, Youngji had gone into a fascination in preparing green foods. The entire floor soon came to understand that Namjoon would be eating the same casserole for his next few meals.

“I convinced her out of it,” Namjoon says with a grin, “Told her that she already spoils me with all her other cooking.”

Jimin chuckles along with Namjoon. He digs his fork into the meal before him. The taste of food that did not come from a can is such a welcome sensation to his body he can’t help but sigh.

“Youngji’s a fantastic cook.”

“One of the best.”

“Well, here’s to you forever gaining weight.”

Namjoon comically nods and rubs his belly.

“Well, Y/N’s a pretty good cook too. The pasta looked delicious the other day.”

At the mention of your name, Jimin falls quiet.

“You know, I understand you better than you think. That look you have, Jimin. I can see that the case isn’t the only reason you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy and inside the station. We all saw Y/N leaving the station the other day.”

“I guess that also means you all saw how upset I made her.”

Namjoon takes an inhale followed by a slow exhale. “Stop me if I’m prying too much, but what happened?”

Jimin takes an even deeper sigh. “She found out that I’m still looking into Baekhyun’s cases after all these years.”

“Ah,” was Namjoon’s simple response.

“I mean, I’m not doing anything wrong, am I? The reason I’ve never given up on finding the truth is to find some closure for myself. For her… For the both of us.”

Jimin means the words he says, but when he hears them from his own mouth, it feels strange.

“Well… what if closure for you doesn’t have the same definition for her?”

Namjoon’s comment make Jimin tilt his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” he asks.

Namjoon stretches out his legs in front of him. The park has quieted down as most of its visitors have returned to work after their lunch break. Only a couple of people still remain, but they are scattered so far around the park that none of their faces could be made out.

“Closure for Park Jimin means to discover the truth. Closure for Y/N might be simply to accept that her fiancé’s gone. She was in so much pain when he disappeared and it took her forever to even leave the house. Her first steps out were because of you. The reason she has the strength to move on today is because you’ve constantly been by her side. Maybe the reason she’s been able to accept that Baekhyun’s no longer with her is because she sees that you’ve accepted it as well.”

“She saw the files that indicate that perhaps Baekhyun was murdered.”

Namjoon’s next sentence becomes lodged in his throat. He closes his mouth then opens it again but only to have it return to its previous state. At last when he finally finds what he wants, he says, “That complicates things, doesn’t it?”

Jimin closes the food container and returns it back into the bag. In the time they had been talking, he found that he had lost his appetite. His two thumbs press against the sides of his temple and gently massage it in circles.

Everybody knows how much Jimin cares for you; some even think that the extent of it is due to Jimin’s secret crush on you. But Namjoon knows the reason why. He can’t help but look at his colleague and friend with sadness. An ancient promise that causes anguish to those in its pact.

Placing a warm hand on Jimin’s back, Namjoon leaves it there for comfort. “Is that what you believe? That Baekhyun is gone because he was murdered?”

Jimin shakes his head. As if the thoughts in his brain could not get any more complicated, the simple question makes things worse. “I don’t know, Namjoon. I have absolutely no idea. I’ve been working this case for years now, but everything always comes up to a dead end. A part of me wants to believe that Baekhyun simply decided to walk out of his old life to start a new one and he’s alive somewhere out there. Yet another part, the detective part, can’t ignore the knowledge that maybe something bad did happen to him that night. That’s why he never returned.”

“Did you uncover anything new?”

“No. Not for that case.”

Namjoon doesn’t say a word. He can sense something else in Jimin’s tone. He is unable to tell if Jimin says what is on his mind as the conversation is redirected.

“What did the directors say about Sara Michel’s case? I’m assuming that’s why you went to meet with them.”

This time it is Namjoon’s turn to furrow his brows. Namjoon had never truly wanted to become Lieutenant. Jimin knew that Namjoon had been offered the position because he first had turned down the offer. Namjoon never expressed any bitterness about it; no, instead he had said he had been thankful. Namjoon had always said how he wanted to become Lieutenant before asking Youngji’s hand in marriage. When they spoke, the only frustration Namjoon ever expressed was the unexpected amount of responsibilities that came with this new position.

“They want to know if we have any new leads. As they say, if we don’t have anything by 24 hours, the case is as good as gone. If there really isn’t anything then they want us to wrap it up. File it as another unsolved case and focus on the new big project: the whole deal we’ve been working over at with the Narcotics Team.”

“The drug related gang suicides, right?”

“Yeah.”

“We can send a couple of guys over.”

“That’s the thing though. The Board doesn’t want a few guys. They want the entire team on board. Agent Hoseok’s barely keeping above the waves with this one. HR is breathing down his neck as apparently, some well-known powerful figure’s gone missing because of this.”

“Guilty?”

“Likely, but since he’s clearly an influential guy, the Missing Person’s unit might be dragged into it as well. His lawyers have also been stalking out at the station in case anything does come up. It’s going to set the whole station into turmoil.”

Politics. Jimin hated it all. If someone was guilty, he believed that they should see the justice they deserved.

“So what should I say to them?”

“Huh?”

“The Board. You’re the one who’s worked the Sara Michel case the most. What should I tell them about our progress so far?”

Jimin bit the inside of his cheek. Progress… Did he have that? Perhaps, but at the end: speculations. That is what they are. He couldn’t take the chance. “Tell them we may have something. Try and deter them from trashing this case. Be ambiguous.”

Namjoon waits to see if Jimin would further elaborate but the other doesn’t speak again.

“Alright,” Namjoon says, “But you will keep me updated on whatever you find, right?”

Jimin nods.

Namjoon knows that the conversation is over so he stands. Stretching, he rolls his neck once and then follows it similarly with his shoulders. “I’m going to head back to the station. Go home. Get some rest.”

“None of you want me at the station, huh? I stink it up too much?”

This earns him a grin from Namjoon. “You’re the brightest mind we have on the team, Jimin. But right now it’s shutting down right in front of my eyes. Recharge it and return when you’re ready.”

Jimin nods again and lifts a head to say goodbye. Then, he is left to his own thoughts once again.

...

She runs. Fast.

He looks down at the three words. They are the only things that fill his laptop screen after he hits enter. Writer’s block: something he didn’t quite enjoy. That was why he liked to move around so much when he writes. That, plus the fact that he can see his subject clearly.

The girl is thin and wiry but the definition of hard deltoid muscles are outlined by the afternoon sun. He enjoys a challenge and she might be one.

Dane observes her like the hunter might to his prey. He notes down everything - from the pathway she takes to the speed of her jogging. Everything is important.

What a contrast she would serve compared to pretty Ms. Michel. Now, where should he display her this time?

Everything must be chosen so that it meets perfection. She is a prancing antelope that dances unknowingly for the lion. Man is an animal after all. We all belong in the Wilderness.

His eyes look up from his script and watches as the girl stretches once she reaches the bench. She is bent over to catch her breath and she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. A small device is wrapped around her arm and she touches it to presumably change the song. Her black and blue leggings contrast with her lighter skin. Once she has rested enough, she jogs a couple of times in place before going forward and then turning the corner out of his sight.

So pretty and elegant. He wants to wrap his arms around her, and feel her pulse between his fingers. He wants to make her into his next angel.

Dane is patient. He is willing to wait until the right opportunity. He will see to it. Unwritten.

This is the third time at the park, but each day that he has arrived, she is also there. He did not need to be a rocket scientist to know that this must be her daily route. Soon, he will be able to continue on his story.

...

Jimin could not understand why, but after that day with Namjoon at the park, he found himself returning to it quite often. He would make excuses to grab a coffee, but would then find himself wandering back to the bench. He enjoyed the quietness the small area offered. It allowed him to gather his thoughts in peace before returning to the hectic environment of the station.

After allocating time spent of sitting silently under the warmth of the sun, Jimin finally stands. The park is much quieter now as the remaining people have also left. He gathers the brown bag with leftovers from the local bistro and starts stretching his legs. From the corner of his eye, he notices that somebody is running.

There is not enough time for him to get out of her way and she crashes into him the moment she turns the corner. The impact is not great and she merely stumbles back in shock.

“I’m so sorry,” he bows in apology.

She is out of breath but she shakes her head and bows as well. “No, it’s my fault! I’m sorry I didn’t see you!”

He waves it away and they share another awkward laugh before the girl in the black and blue leggings smiles and continues on her route.

Bending to pick up the brown bag he has dropped on impact, somebody else captures his attention. That person is someone he cannot seem to forget and even this slightest sight of him causes Jimin to scowl.

He is able to recognize that jacket from anywhere – that grey jacket this man wore the day he walked into the police station. He is currently sitting on a bench nearly halfway across the park. Jimin shouldn’t have been able make out any facial features at his distance, but he swears that the man’s eye follow a runner down the path.

The other man seems engrossed with something on his laptop. His eyes never seem to leave the screen and Jimin is unable to tell whether Jungkook is typing or whether he is watching some type of video. Regardless of what he is doing, Jimin has already decided that it is not good.

About to walk up to him, Jimin suddenly stops in the midst. It is not because somebody else has bumped into him or that he is caught up in another thought.

No.

It is because he recognizes the second figure that appears from behind the first.

...

The previous writer’s block disappears as fast as it had appeared. His fingers are now flying across the keyboard as he continues to write the perfect plan. In fact, he is so captivated by the growing paragraphs that he does not notice when another figure appears from behind.

“What are you doing?” your voice startles him.

He whirls around and snaps his notebook shut. You stand behind with a slightly surprised expression on your face. He is able to tell because your large eyes are wider than usual, and your mouth makes a small “o”.

Time had flown by so quickly that he had forgotten he was supposed to meet you at 1:00pm. Quickly checking his watch, he sees that the time is 12:50pm.

“You’re here early,” he notes. Scooting over, he then pats the seat next to him. You timidly follow his instructions and sit down beside him. The scarf you wear loosens as the wind blows and you fix it once.

“I was just in the area. Do you like croissants? I bypassed a popular bistro on the way here and bought us some.” You hand him the small box. “I know croissants are unexpected from a place like that, but I can promise you – they’re really good!”

Jungkook peeks in the box. Packaged in rows, there is a set of treats in chocolate, strawberry cream cheese and plain.

“Sets of three,” Jungkook mumbles.

You look up at him. “Sorry?”

He gives you a small laugh, yet minute as it is, it still makes your heart tumble. “A set of three. I like working in sets of three,” he tells you. Jungkook opts for the original.

You wait until he takes a bite before a smile breaks across you face. “Good, huh?”

He nods, crumbs falling onto his laptop. He brushes them away before they can dirty it further.

“What did you want to meet me for?” he asks you.

From the strangely shaped bag you had brought with you, you take out a wooden stand and a large piece of rolled paper. He watches as you set up you easel and clips the paper to the side. It is blank.

“I come here often to paint,” you explain as you take out another small bag that is filled with sketching tools, “I think it’s so beautiful here.” You don’t add that you had chosen this place because when Baekhyun first disappeared, this was the closest you could be to Jimin without actually bothering him at the station.

“So you called me here to watch you paint?”

“Sketch, actually. Today I’m here to sketch but in a couple of days I should be able to paint.”

Jungkook leans back in his seat. He sees that a new light has taken over your eyes as you take everything from the park into memory. Your pencil twirls in your fingers. Another small gust of wind blows the scarf away from your neck.

Over their time together, they had become so used to being in each other’s presence that you no longer shy away from him. There were moments when you would be reminded of the first night he stayed at your house, but believe you are not one to dwell in the past so you quickly forget it. At this moment, he is drawing the collar of your jacket up and fixing your scarf so that it would no longer loosen.

While he is helping you, you continue to talk, “You know, ever since I saw you, a feeling has been itching at me. I kept thinking that before bumping into you at the station, I had seen you before! Now I know. You were the guy who thought I was a street artist!”

Jungkook’s fingers falter as he sets them back on his lap. He does not move. What was it you had just said?

“I was at the square near my studio that evening. It was particularly nice. I remember a small ensemble playing classical music too. You had been the one to knock over my canvas.”

No. It was not him.

“Wait. It wasn’t you. It was the lady you were with!” When you remember, you gasps.

Jungkook turns when he hears you. There was not supposed to be a single person that could have remembered him with Sara that night. That was never part of the plan. When he turns his focus on you, there is a look of shock and realization. A fire begins to burn in his stomach.

You hold your hand to your mouth. You can see that Jungkook is staring at you and the guilt eats away inside. You should have seen it coming. He was a handsome, intelligent and skilled man. He had showed up out of nowhere. He was also a stranger to the city. The two of you had met outside the station. Of course he could not be here simply because of work.

He must have been here with his girlfriend.

And they had bumped into you that night on their date.

“Y/N, what is it?” Jungkook asks gently.

You sets the pencil down on the easel. “That woman you were with… That’s your girlfriend, wasn’t it? Oh my god… if she were to know that you’re staying with me right now. She would probably think that I’m some girl who is trying to steal her boyfriend.”

Your face only reddens more when Jungkook’s laughter echoes around the park. It lasts for quite a while and you do not know whether you are feeling humiliated or angry at him laughing at you.

He catches his breath and smiles widely at you. “That wasn’t my girlfriend. She was someone I was meeting for the night.”

“For a date?”

“No. For work.”

You do not know why, but you breathe a sigh of relief. “Well, I also remember you liking my painting. Do you remember?”

He gives you another smile. “Sorry, Y/N. I don’t.”

Disappointment makes your chest ache. Never good at hiding your emotions, it makes him smile again when he sees the obvious frown. He places a hand over yours. “I’d still love a painting though, if that’s what you’re offering this time.” It is infectious, that is what his smile is. You take you hand away from beneath his and regard the quiet scenic park again. “Do you like this place? Should I paint something for you here?”

He nods. “I’ll like anything you paint for me, Y/N.”

You blush at the way he says it so matter-of-factly. Looking up, you scan the surroundings once again before a large shadow rushes towards you and grabs your wrist.

You are hauled up to your feet roughly.

...

Seeing you so casually walking up to that man made him mad. But it wasn’t that which made him practically race across the park. No, it was the combination of him fixing your scarf, laughing with you and then taking your hand. He cannot allow such a thing to happen.

“Jimin!” you yelp, the pain cutting through your wrist. It burns and you feel as if somebody had dug a knife into your skin to split your bones.

Jimin has momentarily forgotten your disorder as he is blinded my rage. How dare Jungkook be sitting beside you like the two of you are friends? This man may be involved in a murder case. He may as well be the only suspect.

“What are you doing here with him?” Jimin demands.

You can barely get the words out – that is how tight Jimin is gripping your wrist and hurting you.

Jungkook is still seated, but upon seeing your face turning bright red and perspiration beading your forehead, he stands. “Detective Park, I believe you are hurting Y/N.”

His words are a cold splash of water on Jimin. He quickly releases you and you whimper while holding your wrist. He reaches towards you, but you draw back, closer to Jungkook.

“I’m so sorry,” his apology is gushes, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You rub your wrist. You know it is not broken, but the pain lingers still. You gingerly rotate it before shaking your head. “I’m fine. You took me by surprise though.”

Seeing the discomfort in your eyes, Jimin instantly feels guilty. The first time he sees you after the fight and he manages to hurt you again. “What are you doing here?” he asks again. He wants to add “with him” but he did not think it was appropriate.

“I was meeting Jungkook. I wanted to do some sketches for a painting.”

He hated your causal use of the name. He hated it with such a passion.

“Detective Park, it’s been a while,” Jungkook extends a hand.

Jimin clenches his jaw but grabs it and shakes it forcefully. “Mr. Jeon,” he says through his teeth.

You can detect the hostility between the two men. You knew Jimin didn’t like Jungkook but you couldn’t see his reason why. Jungkook had only ever been nice to you. Really, Jungkook was one of the nicest people you know.

“Why did you need to meet him to do sketches? I didn’t even know the two of you knew each other,” Jimin begins interrogating.

You falter. You had been so caught up in the previous few days you had forgotten to tell him your new housemate. Truth be told, the whole situation is so unusual for the two of you because you would talk to each other nearly every day.

“I’m temporarily living with her,” Jungkook says, unable to resist the temptation. He has already calculated and anticipated the change that would occur over Jimin’s face once he says those words. He knows that it would affect you more, but there is a type of satisfaction in seeing the rage that spreads over Jimin’s face.

It takes everything in his already weak power to hold his emotions in. Heat is already flowing to his face in which he could not control, but he could still stop the explosion of curses from leaving his mouth.

Your mouth is opened ajar once again. All the worse scenarios are running through your head.

Jungkook sheepishly rubs his neck. “Oh, this is awkward. I thought you had told him, Y/N. You two seemed so close.”

Oh yes. It is absolutely delightful in seeing the impact of his words on Detective Park Jimin.

“I – ” you start, “I didn’t get the chance to yet. Um, well… Jimin…. Jungkook is staying at my place for now. He has no other – ”

“We need to talk,” Jimin interrupts you.

You open your mouth and close it again. “Okay,” you say timidly. You start to walk towards him.

“Grab your things with you,” Jimin says sternly.

You want to refute his words but there is a sort of silent anger you recognize. You send Jungkook an apologetic look before packing away your easel and paper. Jimin waits for you and you quickly whisper, “I’m sorry,” before going away.

The two walk away like a father leading his disobedient daughter. Jungkook can only watch with amusement at the new turn of events.

...

“You’re living with him? You’re living with him? You’re living with him?!” You hear Jimin repeat the series of questions again. Your finger lightly taps your thigh and you note to yourself: the sixth time. That was the sixth time he asked the same question.

Jimin had thought for a long time on their walk to the station of what he could say. Countless words had been flying through his mind however he just couldn’t seem to find the correct ones to string together. That had led him to only repeat the one fact he is being faced with: You are living with Jungkook.

You sigh. “Yes, Jimin, I’m living with him.”

“How could you decide to do that without talking to me about it?” he explodes at last, “You barely know this guy and you invite him into your house? He’s a criminal. He’s a murderer.”

This makes you frown. Your eyebrows crease together and even your pretty face cannot hide the ugliness of your anger. “Park Jimin,” you start sternly with his name, “I don’t think it’s fair for you to make that assumption. I don’t even think you should be making that assumption.”

“Still, the two of you are living together!”

You sigh again.

Jimin stops in the middle his pacing for a second to collect his thoughts. “Fine. But what makes you think you know him enough to decide whether or not my assumption is fair?”

“Well, what makes you think you have enough power over me to stop who I��m living with?”

“I have a responsibility for you, Y/N! I don’t want you to get hurt. Jeon Jungkook is dangerous!”

“There you go again! Making another assumption! Why are you even saying this?”

“You know exactly why. It’s because – ”

“If you say that it’s because of your gut feeling I’m going to walk away right now.”

He pauses. “I just know, alright? I have evidence against him.”

“Show it to me, then.”

Presently, the two of you are arguing inside Jimin’s office. The blinds have been drawn, but the glass door is definitely not enough to hide the increasing voices. Jimin rummages through the multitude of papers and files on his desk. His thoughts are once again jumbled. He is unable to think straight at the moment and it makes him forget where he has put the files in the first place.

“You don’t have it, do you?” you accuse, “You just hate him. I don’t know what your reason is, but that’s mean. Jungkook is a good person. He takes care of me.”

Your tone is filled with exasperation. You did not enjoy when things did not go your way. Neither did he. That is the reason why the two of you tend to avoid conflicts by not being involved in each other’s personal matters. This time, however, Jimin needs his stance to be known.

“You’ve known this guy for what, two weeks? What do you mean ‘he takes care of you’? He barely even knows anything about you.”

You do not bother to correct Jimin that it has in fact been less than that. “He’s taken care of me more than you have alright?” you stab him with the words. Your face flushes the moment they leave your mouth.

Jimin’s next words are so calm, they border on hostility. “More than I have, you say? Please, enlighten me.”

“He… He supports me. He’s there for me when I need him. He’s… He’s…” With each stutter, you can feel yourself losing this fight. Pride and rage cloud your judgment, and nonetheless, you throw out your last attack, “He doesn’t try to convince me that my fiancée was murdered.”

His eyes become hard.

There are tears wavering in you eyes and you tell yourself not to blink such that they would not fall. “You tell me to try and move on after Baekhyun’s disappearance. You tell me that it’s for my own good; all this pain and guilt and frustration at losing him… You’re just as guilty, Jimin. You’ve never put Baekhyun behind you and now you’re saying something as ludicrous as him being murdered. I won’t accept it.”

He hates seeing you cry. He hates it so much. He hates it enough to contemplate easing up on your decision to live with this stranger.

No.

Walking away from you, he digs through his jacket pocket and produces an extra set of keys. He had learned to carry this around with him since knowing you. He never knew when you needed to come by and borrow his house keys.

“Take this,” he places the keys into you palm and curls your fingers around them, “When you’re done with this tantrum… or whatever this is, come home. I understand that Jeon Jungkook needs a place to live, so rent out your place to him. But I cannot have you staying alone with him. You are to live with me while he is an occupant there.”

You scoff at him, incredulously. You grip the keys in your hand before slamming them soundly on his desk.

“I am not a child,” you solemnly say, “You cannot control me like this. I am a free to make my own decisions, and I will do what I want.”

With that, you spin on your heels to exit the office. Your pulse is racing as you turn to face him again. You avoid looking directly at him but stare above past his forehead. You are afraid that if you see his expression, you would falter.

“I respect your decision to not like Jungkook. But if that’s the case, and as Jungkook is living with me, you are free to never come by my place. We will not welcome a guest who only has the intent of unsound accusation.”

You end the argument with that and stomps out the door.

...

Jungkook is waiting for you outside the station as you leave. You are so blinded by your emotions you nearly miss him until he grabs your wrist and causes you to yelp.

Immediately, he retracts his hand. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

You still want to yell at somebody, but Jimin’s injustice towards Jungkook stops you from screaming. You rub you wrist that is still sore from being grabbed previously. Adjusting the strap of your canvas on your back, you continue to walk forward.

“He’s so unfair,” you whisper.

Jungkook catches it.

“Nobody ever asked him to look out for me. I would have been fine,” you say.

“He cares for you,” Jungkook says gently.

You do not want to hear the words. Still, it is not like you can ignore them once they’re heard.

“He is worried. I am a stranger, and a man. Unfortunately, society has a stigma around single strange men who sneak up to a female to offer his phone while it is pouring rain in the middle of the night.” He tries to make a joke with you. Thankfully, it works as you lightly laugh.

“Well, still. Jimin is being stubborn. He has prejudices against you; ones that have no basis.”

“Let me guess. He thinks I’m dangerous. He thinks I might hurt you. With my involvement in his case, he might even think that I’m a suspect.”

You do not want to answer.

Jungkook stops you from walking. Your strides have been short but only increasing in speed. He is no longer sure if you even know where they are walking. With one hand still on your shoulder, he says with a soft voice, “He has every right to think so, Y/N. We have only started to get to know each other We both have secrets that we have yet to reveal to each other. Perhaps I am dangerous. Perhaps I may have the intent to hurt you.”

You look into his eyes which steadily hold you own. “But you won’t, right?”

He smiles at you. “Of course not.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” you say with resolution, “That’s what a relationship is built on. The slow accumulation of trust towards the other party. I don’t care if you have secrets, Jungkook. If you ever do want to share them, I will listen. But at the end, you don’t have to. I want to know you as you.”

He nods. Now with the rollercoaster of emotions within you coming to an end, you are able to see that the weather is beautiful that day. There is the soft melodious chirping of birds from all around you, and the streets are not busy as people have yet to be off work. A warm patch of heat is on your back as the sun greets you between the clouds.

Jungkook is quiet beside you for a while, until he says out of the blue, “Jimin really loves you.”

You whirl to regard him. “Jimin doesn’t love me. He is only tasked to look after me.”

His eyes soften when he looks at you again. He doesn’t follow up with anything, only turning his head back forward.

The speed of your heart’s beating rises slightly at his comment. You do not understand the purpose of him saying that. You do not understand what led to him to say such a thing.

“Jungkook,” you call out.

“Mhmm?”

“I still want to paint a picture for you. But I don’t think I can right now.”

“What do you mean?”

You had stopped walking beside him. He notices that and stops as well. When he finally turns to look at why you had stopped, he is greeted with the image of you standing with your wrist in the air. He sighs in concern and takes your wrist gently.

“Alright, let’s get you home,” he says kindly.

...

next part

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leonicscorpio · 3 years

Text

The Visit: A Jason Todd x Reader Fic

For @nat-wing . One of my best friends, one of my guiding lights, and the person who dragged me into Batman hell. Enjoy.

"Human kindness, gentlemen, is made for the purses of millionaires. With financial power like mine, you can afford yourself a new world order..."

*THUD*

The sound of a backpack crashing next to you jolted you out of the line of the play you were reading. Raising your head to see the source of the noise, you met eyes with your new friend, Jason. Jason Todd.

"What's wrong, y/n, you look like you just saw a ghost" Jason let out, immediately following with a light chuckle and a half-smile. Taking seat next to you at the park bench, Jason started to open up the backpack, revealing a copy of the same book you had. The Visit by Friedrich Durrennmat.

"So, how do you like it thus far?" Jason inquired. You took a look up towards his face and despite his chisled facial features, the thing that always caught your attention were his eyes. The striking sapphire blue eyes allured as much as it frightened. Beneath the mask of the handsome face of the playboy heir of the Wayne Conglomerate and adoptive son of Bruce Wayne hid a maelstrom. A violent sea of torrential anger and oppressive hatred. His eyes have always frightened you, but you never judged Todd for anything because he's always treated you with the respect you've afforded him.

"It's interesting Jason" you let out. You couldn't help but be intimidated by his presence. Here you are, a lonely bachelor living in a converted tenament in Gotham City, a barista, reading a Swiss play with one of Gotham's biggest socialites. Jason came into your cafè seemingly every day, mentioned how the espresso is his favorite in all of Gotham. Some days he came in for a quick coffee run, dressed to the bones like he's about to attend a charity event, others he came in and sat down, getting lost in a book, wearing sweatpants and a signature red or black hoodie.

"Only interesting?" Jason had inquired. Indeed, The Visit had been a fascinating, but difficult read. Following the story of an eclectic billionairess in her twilight years named Claire Zachannasan, coming back to her home town hell bent on it's destruction and rebirth. You had just entered the play's third and final act when Jason arrived.

"In some ways, Claire reminds me of you Jason." You chuckle. You pay extra attention to see how his face reacts to such a bold statement. His face contorts into half-hearted shock, but his eyes are smiling. Prideful, it seems he got the results he wanted. You almost lost yourself in his handsome face with boyish hair when you felt the coastal winds of the park beach alongside the Gotham Oceanfront Jason had requested to meet you at.

"And what makes you say that?" Jason had pushed, bringing his arm away from the book and stretching it across to your side of the bench, his arm was extended behind your back and easily could have wraped one arm around you. And Jason's arms were quite large. Hell, the man himself almost came to challenge Bruce in terms of physique. All of his adoptive brothers were always the more slim, athletic, graceful builded ones. Jason was built like a statue, imposing muscles matched only with an imposing barrel of a chest. You thought to yourself what it would be like to feel those ripling muscles under his red hoodie and modestly branded jeans.

"Well, for starters, Claire is a billionaire, as are you." you said, noting Jason's left eyebrow cock, "well, heir to a billionaire in your case." You corrected. "There is a very pretinant theme of justice throughout the play. It's clear to tell that by using the power and wealth that she has aquired, Claire hopes to enact her own brand of justice." You had listed off. Looking to see Jason's response, you saw a smile begin to purse on his lips. This time of acceptance. It seems you gave Jason the satisfactory answer.

"Very good." Jason had smiled. "But, forgive me for asking, y/n, why do you think I care so much about justice?" Manipulation. Although you can tell Jason's interest and inquirery is genuine, you can tell he has ulterior motives in asking you this question. However you cannot ascertain why. You took a look in his eyes but only met the hurricane making landfall on a beach, threatening to consume all in it's might surge. His face is telling you to explain and ponder further, but his eyes indicate that of a predator about to snap at your jugular.

"I uh.. well." You stammered. Only soon to realize Jason had wrapped his arm securely around you, this gesture would have been romantic given any other context, but knowing what you know about Jason Todd and reading his mannerisms, you felt like a deer in headlights. You were frightened, but also enchanted. Jason's arm was heavy and strong, but not forceful, it was more securing than anything. It made you feel like you were protected from even Gotham's worst.

"Don't worry, y/n, I'm joking, I'm sorry if I intimidated you. But I'm glad you're liking the play, it became a favorite of mine recently." Jason stated.

"So you do relate to Claire." You poked, Jason had scoffed and retorted.

"I never said I did." Jason stated quite matter of factly. Having said that, Jason pulled you closer to him, to the point that your thighs were touching and you were pressed up against his side. You gave out a light gasp. Shocked at Jason's suddenness. "I'm hope I'm not making you uncomfortable, y/n." Jason apologized, the sincerity was genuine. Jason may have been able to play people like the fiddle, as you have seen from interactions at the cafè. However you sensed no malitious intent from the billionare. "I want you to know I like you a lot, y/n. You make the best Cafè Americcanos, and you actually listen to people when I reccomend 1950's swiss literature to them."

Hearing the last line made you laugh a little. You soon felt yourself subconsciously pressing laying your head along Jason Todd's powerful chest. It was just as you had imagined it. Powerful and secure. As you listened to his heart beat, you couldn't help but notice the extreme radiant warmth coming from Jason. With one arm wrapped around you, you felt like you had your own supersoldier their to protect you. "Thank you Jason, I like you a lot as well." You laugh as you made yourself comfortable enwraped in the massive man. To think you, a lonely kid from the suburbs found your way into the arms of one of the heirs of Wayne Enterprises. You, you felt like a nobody compared to Jason Peter Todd. However, one thing continued to bother you, and you wanted an answer.

"Jason, can I ask you something?" You had let into the atmosphere.

"Sure y/n, ask away." Jason had invited.

"Do you hate being a Wayne? Do you hate Bruce?" You raised your head to see the face not a couple inches in front of you and saw a crack in the visage. You made the mistake of focusing on his eyes again and realized just what you had done and what situation you landed yourself in. Beneath the mask you saw exactly what you had hypothesized. Inside the eyes of Jason Todd you saw rage. Hot, blinding, searing rage. You weren't in the arms of an angel any longer, you were in the claws of an apex predator.

"What." Jason had said blankly. It seemed his face alluded to more shock than anger. You craacked the façade and found what lies beneath, and you were afraid. However, curiosity forced you to try to dive deeper.

"To be candid with you, y/n, I do have a lot of anger towards my family, but at the end of the day, they are my family." Jason stated politically. You can tell this was a diversion to try to end the conversation. Realizing just the situation you were in it was for the best that Jason was giving you a get-out-of-Arkham-free-card. "But I will say, you are devilishly inquisitive y/n. How did you deduce that?"

"There's a lot of anger in your eyes Jason, you're bottling up a lot of anger and I don't think it can be healthy for you." You stated. You felt Jason give a hearty laugh as your head bounced from his chest. You didn't even take the opportunity to breath him in while you were down on his chest. The aromas of tobacco, dried sweat, and overtly expensive colonge studded with tonka and sandalwood tickled your nose.

"I guess you're right..." You can tell Jason had more he wanted to admit, but was interupted by the vibration of his phone. Taking a look to see who was calling. Jason let out a groan. You pushed yourself up off of his chest and gave Jason the space to answer the call in privacy.

'what is it Dick I'm busy... Really, now..? Ugh, fine. I'll be there in 10. Tell Bruce he owes me for this.' with that Jason ended the call and heaved himself off the park bench. "I'm so sorry Y/n but a family emergency came up." Jason said, as he made his way back towards the enterance of the park, you exchanged your farewell with the handsome man you just had an exchange with. Before you left, Jason had yelled out "you want an answer to your question? Keep reading the play." Jason had finished. Noting what he had said you opened The Visit back to the exact spot you had left off. As you finished the line by the elder Claire Zachannasan you felt ice run down your veins. Suddenly you felt an intense fear at the thought of Jason by this last sentence.

"The world turned me into a whore, so I shall turn the world into a brothel."

#jason todd #Batfam #Jason Todd x Reader #Smut #ahhsgshaksmdndj MY FIRST PUBLISHED FIC IN LIKE A DECADE WOW HUH.#The Visit by freidrich durrennmatt

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tiramisiyu · 3 years

Text

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Xia Yan’s Personal Story 3-4 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Video

Translated Chapter 3: 3-1 / 3-2 / 3-3 / 3-4 / 3-6 / 3-7 / 3-8 / 3-10 / 3-11 / 3-12 / 3-14

See below cut!

Home

After we confirmed that we were going to investigate Tian Xin, Xia Yan and I discussed our action plan.

Xia Yan: Regardless of if the person who called Tian Xin is Sphinx, him stopping his livestream updates must have something to do with this person.

MC: I tried asking Tian Xin about the Sphinx videos last night…

[Flashback]

After Tian Xin became a streamer, his video watch counts were not high, and the regular follower count was very low. I pretended to be a viewer who enjoyed mystery videos, watching his livestreams as I left voice recordings to chat with him, even giving him some gifts. After I shortened the distance between us, I slowly led the topic from speculation to the Sphinx matter.

MC: Great Tian Xin, why did you set your theme as reasoning out Stellis City’s urban mysteries?

Tian Xin: Before, I wanted to be like the detectives in mystery books and fiction, but professionals are there to deal with criminal cases. I’m not a godly detective like Sherlock Holmes – there wouldn’t be anyone to ask me for help. Daily trifles aren’t that interesting, and if I get involved in others’ private matters, it wouldn’t be easy to stream.

Tian Xin: There are no limits with urban mysteries, and it’s all very amusing. I originally thought that this would attract more viewers, but…

MC: I feel like Great Tian Xin’s direction wasn’t wrong. Could the problem have been the title?

Tian Xin: The title?

MC: Yeah. These are times where people consume content fast, and lots of people are “clickbait headline writers”. I think that if the title were more provoking, then it would attract more subscribers. Such as, if you changed “Stellis Unusual News – Sphinx’s Riddles!” to “Detective Killer “Sphinx”, it would be more provoking.

Tian Xin had just been responding to me rapidly, but he suddenly stopped. Pretending to not pay attention, I continued to chat with him.

MC: Right, Great Tian Xin, why didn’t you update with more Sphinx videos?

Tian Xin: About this, it’s basically like the explanation I gave in the video. “Some legends are more suited to become legends.”

Tian Xin was evasive about why he had stopped the Sphinx livestreams. To avoid startling him off, I didn’t press him with questions – instead, I turned the topic around, as if bringing up Sphinx was just a one-off careless act.

[Flashback end]

I told Xia Yan all about the process of the conversation with Tian Xin last night.

MC: Tian Xin is clearly hiding something about this. But I felt like there was no point in continuing to ask him, under the circumstances at that time.

Xia Yan: Mm, your handling was very appropriate.

MC: But what should we do afterwards? Pretend to be detectives that have also received Sphinx’s challenge letter, and exchange information with him?

Xia Yan: We could. But using these common methods won’t make him trust us quickly. We’ll be very slow in getting useful information.

Xia Yan: I feel like we might as well try “beating the grass to scare the snake”.

MC: Beating the grass to scare the snake?

Xia Yan: Mm. Looking at Tian Xin’s movements, he’s going to do a livestream tonight. I plan to ask about where he’s going to livestream tonight, and when time comes, I’ll swindle him with Sphinx’s name.

MC: Swindle him? Are you going to pretend to be Sphinx and give him a riddle?

Xia Yan and I already had received two of Sphinx’s riddles. If we had to fake two riddles, it wouldn’t be hard.

Xia Yan: No, Tian Xin has already received “Sphinx’s” call before. We’re still not clear on whether the caller is the real Sphinx, someone else’s prank, or Tian Xin’s self-directed, self-acted play.

MC: That’s true. If the caller really is Sphinx, then he would have no need at all to set up riddles. If he can force detectives to resign, he must have more effective methods to threaten Tian Xin and prove his own identity.

Xia Yan: So I want to directly pretend to be Sphinx and try worming facts out of Tian Xin, after his livestream tonight.

MC: I’ll go with you!

Xia Yan: Sure. But before that, there’s a responsibility I need you to fulfill.

MC: Is it finding out Tian Xin’s livestream location tonight?

Xia Yan saw my eagerness and laughed.

Xia Yan: It’s to rest well.

MC: Huh?

Xia Yan: How many hours did you sleep last night?

MC: … Four to five hours.

Xia Yan: You sure? I can check the computer operation records.

I avoided Xia Yan’s eyes, feeling somewhat guilty.

MC: … Three to four hours.

Xia Yan used both of his hands to hold my cheeks, so that I had no way of avoiding his gaze and could only look straight at him. His eyes were filled with my silhouette.

Xia Yan: I’ll give you one more chance. Look at the Ministry of Security trump-card agent in front of you, think it through, then speak.

MC: I’m sorry, master trump-card agent, I only slept two hours last night…

Xia Yan kneaded my face as he held it, then laughed.

Xia Yan: So, leave the communication with Tian Xin all to me. Go sleep right now and rest up well.

MC: But if you want to swindle Tian Xin tonight, you have to understand him better. He streamed some more videos after “Sphinx’s Riddles”. We should split up watching the videos and prepare some topics to chat with Tian Xin about. Otherwise, how will you watch so many videos on your own…

Xia Yan: Now you know that some things can’t be done on their own, and needs to be done by two people together? You didn’t even call me yesterday, and you stayed up so late that you only got two hours of sleep.

MC: I just… wanted to surprise you.

Xia Yan pushed me up from the sofa.

Xia Yan: Don’t worry – this amount of content is no big deal.

Xia Yan: The investigation tonight is the highlight, so hurry and take the chance to get some sleep. We’re going to be staying up all night tonight. Otherwise, when you fall asleep tonight, I’m leaving you behind!

MC: Got it, I’ll go sleep now!

I walked into my bedroom, then suddenly had an idea when I saw my blanket. I grabbed the blanket and ran back in front of Xia Yan, who was sitting on the sofa.

Xia Yan: Are you… planning to sleep on the sofa?

MC: Yeah. Otherwise, if I go up and leave you watching videos yourself, it’ll be so boring.

MC: If I do this, then it counts as me struggling with you in the same trench.

Xia Yan: Okay, then we’ll struggle in the same trench together.

Xia Yan stuck earphones into the laptop, not letting the sounds of the video disturb me. I grabbed a cushion on the sofa, placed it beside Xia Yan, then laid down. I angled my head around, watching Xia Yan’s hands as they tapped the keyboard from time to time. His finger bones were distinct, and they were slender and strong.

Xia Yan: Is it hard to sleep after missing peak sleepiness hours?

I lifted my head, meeting Xia Yan’s pupils as they faced me, warm and peaceful. He wasn’t wearing the earphone on the side facing me, so it would be easy to talk to me.

MC: A little. But what I feel more like is happy, and I feel really reminiscent.

Xia Yan laughed, his face showing the same reminiscent feeling.

Xia Yan: Before, every time we had days off from school, and uncle and auntie weren’t there, the two of us would ignore our sleep schedules. We’d nest up on the sofa and watch movies, play games, and eat snacks, just like now.

MC: Then when we have time someday, how about we stay up all night, watching movies and playing games again?

Xia Yan: … Sure.

Xia Yan and I idly chatted, and from time to time, I heard the quiet sounds of Xia Yan clicking the mouse. Slowly, I fell asleep.

On the side, the girl’s breathing slowly stabilized – she’d fallen asleep. Xia Yan took the blanket that had slid off the sofa and tucked her in again, just like he had done innumerable times, when they were small. The dreaming girl reached out and scratched at the hair against her face, seeming like it felt itchy. Xia Yan smiled and carefully brushed aside the hair on the girl’s face.

With a sound, she held onto Xia Yan’s hand.

Xia Yan: …!

The girl didn’t wake up – she just cushioned his hand under her cheek, rubbing against it like a kitten. Xia Yan froze, then quietly looked at her sleeping face.

Xia Yan: I kept wondering if eight years of time would make us a lot more different.

Xia Yan didn’t take his hand away. He felt her soft cheek lying on the somewhat rough back of his hand.

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: You still haven’t changed…

A warm breath fell on the back of his hand, close and extremely familiar. Xia Yan’s breathing became somewhat chaotic. He hesitated for a moment, then couldn’t resist reaching out his other hand and gently stroking her outline.

Xia Yan: Ever since we were little… we’ve always interacted like this. So, right now… this doesn’t count as overstepping bounds… right?

The dreaming girl made an indistinct “mm” sound.

Xia Yan maintained his position, held onto by the girl as he was. He only used his free hand to operate the computer quietly.

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #xia yan #weiding shijian bu #未定事件簿 #夏彦 #SCREAMING #this chapter was so cute im djsfhdsjkdskfds #no thoughts brain empty only raven and rose #tot translation #ok taking a break for now!

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an-ambivalent · 4 years

Text

Uchiha Therapist: Part I

Synopsis: Yandere! Madara x Reader x Yandere! Sasuke

[Name] is a struggling post graduate psychology student who has more on her plate than she can handle. Between her practicums to gain work experience and writing reports, to trying to maintain a decent lifestyle and look after her own mental health, there is little to no time left to work an actual paying job. Yet, money is essential for survival. So, she does the next best thing that has been trending recently to assure a good paycheck; she becomes a sugar baby. The only thing is, [Name] is unaware that she’s become sugar baby of the Madara Uchiha, the notorious CEO of Uchiha Corporation. She is also unaware of the fact that she’s the therapist of his nephew Sasuke Uchiha, who has begun treading over the professional boundary of a patient, and has started developing an abnormal fixation for his therapist since she seems to be the only one who actually understands him.

Warning: Although this story will come to contain yandere themes that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read, there are no yandere themes present in this chapter. It does have mentions of negative and tiring thoughts that may be triggering. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional and any yandere or other toxic behaviours that may be present in the future, know that I do not condone such behaviour.

Word Count: 4K

Story start; A day in the life of [Name]

On the night that started it all, when [Name] was feeling particularly disheartened and dissatisfied with her life, she had vented her frustrations and sorrow to her good friend Ino Yamanaka. Although many things in her life were going right, and she was privileged enough to have the chance to pursue her wanted career, it came at a cost. Her entire life schedule was fixed around her post graduation studies, other little spared time was for cooking and doing chores, and the rest was for sleeping. [Name] lacked the time for earning money, and doing things that were higher on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs — dating to find someone to create a meaningful connection with, or working on her previous hobbies.

The two friends had been consuming enough booze to be a little more than tipsy but not enough to be drunk. Some words were slurred, the fine motor control had decreased a bit, and with their faces slightly flushed, Ino was convinced that she had the best idea to [Name]’s problems.

Giggling at her own idea, Ino had snatched [Name]’s laptop from in front of them, and tapped various keyboard keys for joogle to search up. Once she saw the results, she clicked on one of the many websites shown as a result, and after a few more minutes of more clicks and keyboard taps, she had turned the laptop towards [Name] to see, with a triumph grin on her face.

“A sugar daddy,” Ino claimed proudly.

[Name] raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“A sugar daddy — it’s the perfect solution for your troubles. Not only will you get to earn more than enough, it covers the dating aspect too! Someone to spend your time with, to sleep over with — just without getting too attached. You’ll have a social life once again that doesn’t consist of you drinking booze with me or our other friends and you can finally afford to look decent again,” Ino explained straightforwardly.

[Name]’s eye twitched. “What do you mean finally afford to look decent again?” she inquired in a low voice, and glared at Ino, who smiled sheepishly at her.

“Well you’ve been a fashion disaster for sometime now—“

“Sorry I don’t have rich parents like the rest of you to buy me extravagant brands,” [Name] retorted, and a tick mark of anger bulged on Ino’s head.

“Well Sakura is a commoner like you too and even when she was a starving student, she still had a fashion sense. You don’t need to buy something expensive like jucci to look decent!” Ino snapped, and [Name] scowled at her.

“Whatever. This discussion is pointless anyway since I’m not going to become a sugar baby,” [Name] responded, and went to grab a bottle to consume more alcohol. However, the uneasy and anxious expression that Ino wore made her halt amidst her movements. All of a sudden, a cold shiver ran down [Name]’s back, and she felt a sense of dread building up in her gut.

“Please tell me you didn’t,” [Name] pleaded and Ino winced inwardly, before she turned the laptop around to show [Name].

“I did… I already signed you up. You have a date with him this Friday night.”

“INO!”

That was the gist of how [Name] had become entangled in her predicament with Madara Uchiha, and what was meant to be nights for [Name] giving her daddy some casual sugar, turned into an diabetic sugar addiction.

It was baffling really, how as children, people can be better in following orders than they can be as adults. And for someone like [Name], who had been studying psychology for years now, and began to work with the theories, one would think that practicing what she preached would be easier; she was great at helping her clients, but not much at helping herself.

“Make sure you don’t go with strangers” — a lesson that had been engraved in children at school and from their parents for their own safety. It was one of the most basic rules of common sense to evade danger; however, it was the rule [Name] failed to follow. Instead of not going through with her fixed date with a sugar daddy, who was a complete stranger and who knows pose what danger, she had gone through with it. And she had not even taken any caution to have their first meeting in a public place, no. She had gone to his home, which was the only place he accepted for their meeting, because she was too anxious to say no or not go through with it.

She really wondered how she was able to help her clients so well when she could not even manage her own anxiety.

So, now, here she sat. Since by Ino’s definition, [Name] was a walking fashion disaster, the blonde had refused to let her go without her help. Their tastes differed, but even [Name] had to admit that Ino had done an incredible job in helping her choose an outfit that was suited to her tastes. Granted, it was skimpier than what she usually wore and more figure defining, but it did make her look really nice. She did not look like a savage mess with evident dark eyebags who appeared to have just gotten out of bed and went to work straightaway like she did on a daily basis. But she felt exposed and uncomfortable in the setting she was not accustomed to.

The penthouse she had been invited to was extravagantly luxurious; the small dining for the two of them (her and soon to be her sugar daddy) was right next to the giant window in the living room that showed a beautiful night view of the Konoha city. Lighting in the room was ambient and romantic, and there was a small pizza, that looked ridiculously expensive for what it's worth, and red wine settled before her. While she did not want to indulge in such luxury, feeling on the edge of the seat because of how her sugar daddy to be was scrutinizing her with calculating onyx eyes, and never being the one to refuse free food, she mindlessly ate it, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You know, usually you’re supposed to make conversation and sell yourself to try and convince me of why I should stick with you rather than someone else,” Madara spoke, and this was so abrupt and unanticipated on [Name]’s part that she froze half way through biting her food. Her cheeks felt hot in embarrassment, and she awkwardly coughed loudly before looking up at Madara. Although he found her antics to be somewhat adorable, he kept a straight face. After all, to gain the attention of a man of his status, there were many who did the strangest things to appease him. Madara was not a man to be tricked so foolishly.

“Why should I sell myself when you haven’t convinced me to why I should be your….uh, sugar b-baby rather than s-someone else’s?” [Name] responded. She had started off strongly, but near the end when it came to referring to herself as a sugar baby and realisation of the situation sunk in, she felt herself become more flustered.

Now, it was not odd for people to be intimidated by Madara. However, acting in confidence at the same time, and to question his authority, that was new. The corner of his lips twitched upwards in amusement. He leaned back in his chair and raised a fine black eyebrow at [Name].

“And why should I have to sell myself to you? I’m the one who, essentially, is paying for everything,” he challenged, and [Name] scoffed at him.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s really costing you,” she mumbled under her breath, before clearing her throat. “Someone else can pay me too.”

“You had no reviews on your profile, you’re lucky that I even chose to click on it. Usually, it’s hard to get started since no one bothers with anyone with no reviews.”

[Name] shrugged. “That was your own choice, don’t shift the situation onto me. And besides, how do you know it's only reviews that count online? I might know a lot of other sugar daddies I had in my past that desperately want me but it's lucky that I chose to give you, a stranger, the chance.”

Madara was amused by the fact that [Name] had used his own logic against him, and could not help but smirk. Even though it was more than obvious through her behaviour that she was an absolute newbie to this, he decided to humour her.

"Well, I am an Uchiha," Madara said simply, as if that sole reason explained everything.

[Name] blinked in confusion. "Uhhh, okay…? Well, I'm [Surname]. That explains why you should choose me.”

This time, her response really did leave Madara confused. His eyebrows were furrowed and there was clear confusion written on his face.

“You don’t know the Uchiha?” he asked incredulously. The urge to sigh in an exaggerated manner and snap at him was strong, but [Name] decided against it. With the way he spoke in that condescending tone, and expected [Name] to treat him as if he was of utmost importance, made it more than obvious to her that he was used to being treated as the highest authority. Perhaps he was of importance and not watching herself around him could lead her into a huge mess. But [Name] did not particularly care about his status or whatever he had going on that made him expect her to seemingly kiss the floor he walked on. If she cared about authorities and sucking up to people, then she would not be training to be a therapist in the first place. There were going to be times when she would have to fight authorities and regulations with her sweat and blood for the sake of her clients. And really, if [Name] did care, she would not have been here in the first place -- having dinner with a complete stranger.

“Uh I do?” she said, but it sounded more like a question. Madara opened his mouth to respond to her, but he shifted the focus of the conversation to another topic. He felt even more perplexed by [Name] now because how could she not know the Uchiha?

“Nevermind, it’s not of importance. Tell me, why are you in this line of business? You don’t seem,” fit for it, he wanted to say, but chose his words carefully. “The type to want to do this.”

In response, [Name] felt flustered. She wondered if it was really that obvious that she was not used to it and Madara was simply humouring her. She could very well tell him the truth that it was because Ino had tricked her into it. However, that would make her seem gullible. Now that she may be committing to this, she knew she needed to build a good reputation for herself. She decided to tell the half-truth.

“I need the money,” she answered in a murmur, before she brought the glass of wine to her lips, and took a huge drink from it.

Madara watched her with analytical eyes as she downed her alcohol, taking no moment to savour the taste. He had also noticed how she was on her third plate of their dinner and wondered if she had any decency and how she was capable of eating so much.

“Your job doesn’t pay you enough?” he asked in a genuinely concerned tone, before he followed [Name]’s example and downed his remaining wine in one go too. He had never done that before, and after finishing it, he had to admit there was an odd sense of satisfaction of not savouring its every taste and drinking it all together at once.

Madara was staring at her with anticipation and worry embedded deep in his ebony coloured irides. Frankly speaking, [Name] had not have someone look at her with such concern in a long time. Generally, on the rare occasions she did speak freely about her worries, whoever she shared her problems with would give her their own input rather than simply listening to her and asking her the right questions that would help her discuss or figure out her own problem. The sight of it made her heart beat faster, and she unknowingly found herself talking before she even what she was doing.

“It’s not that… Well, actually I don’t even work. I barely have time to breath, working is my last priority right now,” she murmured, nervously fiddling with her fingers, as she observed Madara from the corner of her eye.

“While I cannot relate to your financial struggles, I understand the situation you’re in. Becoming so busy because of a goal you once had, that you question whether it’s even worth pursuing it anymore. You lose sight of who used to be and the things that brought you pleasure. There’s always something to do that you can’t even remember the last time you truly felt alive,” Madara said thoughtfully, and his words caused [Name]’s eyes to widen.

“And no matter how much you want to try and change things, it just feels like you’ve been stuck in the same cycle and it keeps repeating over and over and over again,” [Name] murmured, sighing dejectedly. “I really hate the world.”

Madara chuckled at her declaration as he lifted another bottle of wine that was on their table.

“Me too. Why don’t we discuss more things we hate about the world and learn about what we in common over more wine?” he suggested. The edge of suspicion and tenseness he held before was no longer present. Instead, he was now feeling much more relaxed than he had in awhile, and felt intrigued about [Name]. The twinkle in his eyes in hopes to talk to her more caused her lips to stretch into a cute flustered smile.

“Sure.”

____________________

It was the week which was like the last and there was no change but stress levels felt higher. Even after a decent ten hours sleep, [Name] felt exhaustion crawling like bugs underneath the epidermis layer of her skin. Dark bags were swelled prominently underneath her eyes. Her hair was tied carelessly in a messy bun that fell to one side; it wasn’t pretty like the one’s beauty gurus showed. It was loose but the knot was tight enough to make the weight of the hair feel too evident with each passing moment. Taking a quick sip from her steaming mocha, she greeted the administrators on the front desk that were the first point of contact between clients and the therapists who worked further back in the office. This office was where [Name] was presently working to gain practice experience in her second practicum. Generally, students in training were simply meant to observe and learn. If permission given by their supervisor, they could step in. But in [Name]’s case, for the sake of the story’s plot, the office she had chosen this time were understaffed. And since she already had finished one practicum and had quite a lot of other experiences from volunteering under her belt, she was trusted to work independently with whatever clients may be assigned to her.

“Good morning Moegi and Konohamaru,” [Name] greeted, and the two looked up from their screens. When they noticed it was [Name], they beamed at her and returned her greeting in response.

“How was your weekend [Name]?” Konohamaru asked, as he handed her the appointment schedule of everyone she would seeing today.

[Name] was ready to give her autopilot response of it being "okay" and then quickly shooting a "how about you" like she usually did. However, before those words left her mouth she paused to ponder: truly, how had her weekend been?

It was okay. Actually, it had been more than okay.

It had surprisingly been a lot of fun. When she had went through with her sugar daddy date, she had somewhat expected that she may end up having sex with a rich man she would not have been attracted to and receive compensation for sleeping with him. But that had not been the case. Madara was quite attractive, and although the dinner date had begun with a few subtle jeers thrown at each other, she had ended up having a good time with him. The fact that she felt safe enough to be vulnerable with him in the way she didn't even feel that level of comfort with her friends, and shared things she hadn't even known she was bottling up - - it was such a profound experience. To go from discussing their hatred for many things, to confessing secrets and feelings they weren't judged for, but rather, listened to, to getting so drunk that they sang cheesy songs and ended the date with their own unplanned karaoke night, it left an odd feeling of satisfaction and joy in [Name]'s chest that she had not felt in a while. The knowledge of knowing that she would be seeing Madara again soon left her feeling embarrassed.

"It was," she began, and she covered her face with one hand to hide her embarrassment. "Really nice and fun. I had a good time," she murmured somewhat quietly. Then, right away, she scurried off towards her office before they could question her further or talk about their own weekends.

[Name] had left Moegi and Konohamaru surprised with her response, and the two turned to each other wondering if they had heard right.

It was after lunch when [Name] was indulging in some [favourite fruit] iced tea, hoping some sugar would help her stay awake when she had an appointment with a client she would be seeing for the first time. She had settled her drink on the table beside her, walked through the hallway, and into the main office with reception and waiting area for clients.

It was there she saw a young man not much older than herself. He had warm ivory skin and black hair bangs that framed his face. The back of his head looked like a duck’s butt. He must have heard her footsteps because before she even called out his name, he had looked up. When her eyes met his, she took a sharp intake of breath because he looked oddly similar to Madara. The way his obsidian eyes scrutinised her made her feel uneasy. Nonetheless, she gave him, what she hoped appeared to be a welcoming and reassuring smile.

“You are Sasuke?” she assumed, and he stood up.

“Hn,” Sasuke responded simply, and at the lack of any greeting or even a facial expression caused [Name] to sweatdrop. But nonetheless, she carried on like she did with all of her patients.

“Before we start your session, did you want anything? A hot chocolate, coffee, water?”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at this before he replied nonchalantly. “A black coffee.”

[Name] nodded and just before she could speak once more, a head of messy black curls invaded her vision and she was greeted with a smile that was almost too falsely cheerie for her taste.

“Hello! I’m Shisui, Sasuke’s cousin. And stoic face over there is Itachi, Sasuke’s brother. You forgot about us Miss. Therapist,” Shisui greeted brightly. At his exuberant persona, Sasuke glared at him. The one who he had introduced as Itachi, sighed, and [Name] looked at them apologetically.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t notice you. Can I get anything for you as well? If you’ve been with Sasuke until this point, I can assume you’ll be staying with him.”

Itachi nodded and stepped up front and held out his hand for [Name] to shake, which she obliged to almost instantly.

“Yes. We are here to oversee my little brother’s recovery at my Father’s orders and make sure there is progress,” he explained simply. His words were harsh. It was evident in the way Shisui had become tight lipped, and how Sasuke had now averted his glare onto Itachi. [Name]’s eyes shifted to observe their reaction and then returned to Itachi who was looking at her stoically. It wasn’t too obvious. However, she noticed with the way Itachi’s jaw was clenched more tightly than it had been before. This change in his body language clearly indicated that he had not wanted to say what he did and he did not want to be here. And from the intense glare Sasuke regarded him with, [Name] safely assumed that whatever was going on with Sasuke, Itachi seemed to be a part of it. Underneath Itachi’s pretty eyes, she noticed a sense of tiredness that was all — physical, mental, emotional and more. She saw that same sense of exhaustion on her own face each day.

The session had not even started and this was already turning out to become so complicated. [Name] hoped she would still have her sanity by the time she graduated and came to do this full-time. There were some of her colleagues who never bothered with rules or following basic procedures to assure their clients comfort and wellbeing. Lucky for her clients, she did. And when she needed to, she would bend over backwards and willingly go beyond her capabilities for them.

She knew from the way they all held themselves, and particularly with how Itachi had spoken that they were of important status. Their ‘father asked [them] to be here’ was a subtle way of implying that she could get in huge trouble if she did not comply with them. But [Name] just didn’t care.

She turned to Sasuke with a stern look on her face and motioned towards Shisui and Itachi.

“Do you want them there to support you or would you feel more comfortable with just you? Either way is fine. It’s your decision,” [Name] said smiling at him.

The three raven-haired males that had been introducing themselves moments ago stilled and their eyes widened in shock. Shisui was the first one to snap out of it.

“Uh, Miss. Therapist, I don’t think you know—“

“I know what I’m doing. Please refrain from implying such things and let my client decide for himself,” she retorted, narrowing her eyes. Shisui went to warn once more, but he was stopped by Itachi, who shook his head.

Itachi’s gaze went to Sasuke, and then back to [Name] as he spoke.

“I’m sure she knows what she is doing. We all wish for Sasuke’s wellbeing. We won’t intrude if he doesn’t want us to,” he proclaimed. That was his way of hinting for Shisui to drop the subject, and reassuring both Sasuke and [Name] that he was on their side, particularly with Sasuke, letting him know that he would not let their father find this out.

“Aniki,” Sasuke murmured in disbelief, staring at his brother for a few moments. Then, he looked back at [Name] to see she was still giving him the same sweet and gentle smile she had greeted him with.

Maybe, perhaps, this time, signing up for therapy would be worth it. Maybe he could allow himself to talk to her and not fear judgement and consequences like he had with his previous therapists.

“I’d like it to be by myself,” he murmured, looking away from her with slight pink cheeks. As his eyes had drifted away from hers and met Shisui’s, who gave him a warning look, his shoulders tensed and his eyes snapped back to [Name] right away. “P-Please and t-thank you.”

He did not need to glance at Shisui again to know the oldest male was now grinning at him.

Seemingly, his politeness seemed to be unexpected and Sasuke wanted to scoff at how [Name]’s eyes had lit up in pride. It almost annoyed him because did they really think he was that dimwitted?

“You’re welcome. Now, follow me please. Shisui and Itachi, our session will be around an hour so you can come to pick him up in that time,” [Name] said. The two of them nodded and waved the two goodbye as Sasuke followed after [Name] to her office.

-------

A/N: (tbh, uhhh, I plan for this to be a yandere story [whispers: eventually] but this chapter is fluffy. I honestly don’t know where I’m going with this or if I’ll add more Uchihas as love interests and turn into a reverse harem for [Name], I’m gonna make shit up as I go along and hope it turns into something decent lol gang gang. I just need to write a story I can write without worries and just enjoy the process of it rather than caring about where it leads. So yeet. I hope you join me on this journey <3)

#yandere x reader #yandere sasuke #yandere naruto #yandere madara #naruto #madara x reader #sasuke x reader #naruto x reader #uchiha x reader #akatsuki x reader #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #possessive #sasuke uchiha #madara uchiha #ambivalent writes #uchiha therapist part 1

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