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sundrop-writes · 4 months

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Figure It Out

A Criminal Minds Casefic

“All things are subject to interpretation. Whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth.” -Friedrich Nietzsche

Summary:

Since you joined the BAU, you have been keeping a terrible secret from the team.

When the team takes a case in your hometown - your festering secret comes to be known with a vengeance.

Fem!Reader x Gen!BAU Team (Platonic). General Casefic, modelled after a Criminal Minds episode. Angst, Mystery, Hurt and Comfort. Set during Criminal Minds Season 3.

Word Count: 18,000

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed Warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is a general casefic - there is no romantic pairings in this fic, it is more about the mystery of the case and how the reader character fits into it (if this were a real Criminal Minds episode, this would be the episode named after the reader) - with that being said, the main relationship focuses are between Emily and the reader and Spencer and the reader (because I am biased and I love them) but there isn’t any romantic threads or romantic tones, it is all platonic; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and is described as a woman, but I went out of my way to make sure that there is no descriptions of the readers looks or body type; there is use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); mentions of the reader being from Georgia (because the case takes place in her hometown); smoking/cigarettes - mentions of the reader character smoking tobacco; mentions of the reader character being injured (severely in a past incident, and minor injuries during the course of the fic); mentions of vomit/mentions of the reader character throwing up; lots of warnings for general Criminal Minds topics; murder, killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, violence, guns/gun violence, mentions of rape and sexual violence, mentions of systematic violence towards women; there is no graphic depictions of rape/no rape scenes in the fic, but there is mentions of the event of rape happening to certain characters, references to rape culture, and the shame/guilt/self blame a rape victim feels; mentions of stalking/stalking behaviors - including the delusion mindset of a stalker, obsessiveness, sending someone unwanted letters, mentions of a ‘one sided’ relationship; mentions of trauma/PTSD; descriptions of symptoms of PTSD; themes surrounding the cycle of violence; I did kind of purposefully make the warnings a bit more vague than I usually do, because I really don’t want to spoil the plot of this fic. But as lot as you are okay with the maturity of all these themes, you should be okay with this fic!!

A/N: This is pretty much 100% inspired by the music video for Figure It Out by Royal Blood - which the fic is named after. I highly recommend watching the music video, because it is fucking art in my opinion, but I have taken such heavy inspiration from it in terms of the style, tone, and even storyline - so the music video kind of spoils this fic. So probably watch it after you read the fic lmao. I also feel like the instrumental version of the song goes very well with this fic. This fic is not at all typical and I am terrified that people won't like it, or that they won't 'get it'. But I am very proud of it, so I am going to put it out there and hope that people enjoy it. So - please enjoy!! I really love writing Criminal Minds casefics and coming up with the details of a case, and writing it in this style was so, so exciting and interesting for me, and I really do hope that you can enjoy reading it.

...

“All things are subject to interpretation. Whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth.”

-Friedrich Nietzsche

...

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Madison Police Department, Interrogation Room #1 - Madison, GA. 3:39AM.

The chilled air of the interrogation room only made the regret more palpable in your lungs.

The hum of the fluorescents overhead made you feel like a bug about to be zapped - like your entire life was over and you would soon be resigned to a cage.

You hated it, but you had to wonder what you would have done if you had ten more minutes. Ten more minutes before they had arrived, sirens screeching, lights flashing. Your mind kept replaying the moments over and over again. The knife had felt so perfect in your hand.

Ten more minutes.

“I just want to talk.”

So caught up in your thoughts, your mind so foggy from the hectic night - you had almost forgotten that there was someone sitting in front of you.

He looked so entirely stiff - wearing his cookie cutter suit and his carved-in scowl. He did nothing to shift your mood.

“This is just a conversation. Nothing more.”

He continued on, using a monotone, would-be soothing voice when you didn’t say anything.

The metal chair felt stiffer underneath you, and you felt further suffocated within that small, concrete box.

You felt inclined to call it an interrogation, but you wouldn’t be so quick to tell him that. It’s not like you were going to tell him what he wanted to hear.

“You can smoke in here if that makes you feel more comfortable.” He added on, pushing something from the middle of the table toward you.

A pack of cigarettes and a lighter. There was also an ashtray. A collection of things that someone had put there, knowing that you would be resigned to this tiny, tiny room.

“You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves, Hotch.” You huffed, saying his name, using the same technique that he would likely be using on you. You could mirror him, get ahead on the mind games. “I’m not as crazy and detached from reality as you think I am.”

Perhaps that was a false statement. You weren’t even sure how crazy he thought you were. Perhaps, that in itself made you detached from reality. You couldn’t be sure.

Nonetheless, you took him up on the offer. You reached out and eagerly picked up the pack of smokes, ripping off the outer plastic before you took one out, shoving the tip between your lips and lighting it up.

You took a heavy draw, and the nicotine throbbed through you. Seemingly adding to the headache you already had from the large gash on your forehead that they had hastily bandaged before bringing you in here, rather than relieving it. Still, you sucked on the cigarette like it was your only lifeline - taking a moment to tap some of the ash into the small ashtray while you stared at Hotch carefully.

You wondered if you should really tell him all the gory details.

“Just tell me what happened. Tell me your side of the story.” Hotch said, trying his best to sound warm and convincing. It didn’t work. “I’m just trying to figure it out. Just like you are.”

Perhaps your biggest regret was that you were here, cooped up in this hole - and he was in the hospital somewhere, laying in a soft bed, being attended to by nurses, being comforted. The fact that he was still breathing - even with the assistance of a tube down his throat, and not in a body bag.

“You’ll never look at me the same if I do tell you.” You managed to find these words, and these words only. Ominous, almost threatening - more so than you intended.

“I won’t.” He returned. Shallow, fallible.

Suddenly, a crash from the hallway broke the tense silence that was brewing between the two of you. The door was thick, but it wasn’t enough to disguise the ruckus coming from outside.

“No! No! You have to let me through! I have to be in there!”

The voice was familiar, but that tone of desperation certainly was not.

“Reid, he specifically told us to sit this one out-”

“Sit this one out?!” Reid repeated the words back, his voice warping with pure shock, the inability to conceptualize such a thing. “You expect me to just sit out?” He scoffed. “If it wasn’t for me, two more people would be dead, and there wouldn’t even be a ‘this one’! Now let. Me. Through.”

“Reid-”

With all his bolstering stubbornness, he shoved past whoever had been trying to stop him, and as you took another heavy puff off your cigarette, the interrogation room door came flying open.

Hotch stood up, rushing to block the door, but you smiled. Though you were numb from the day’s events - it was your natural instinct upon seeing him.

“Reid-” Hotch choked out, trying to block the gangly man from even entering the room.

“Good evening, Doctor Reid.” You greeted him gently.

Upon seeing your reaction - so much more open and warm - Hotch allowed him in. This was the wedge that he needed to pry you open. Reid closed the door behind himself with an indigent huff and a glare toward his superior.

Reid crossed his arms, hovering near the door as he turned his stiff-jawed glare toward you now. Your cigarette turned to a hot cherry in your hands - sucked to death already, and you stubbed it out in the tray before starting a new one. You knew chain-smoking was an even filthier habit than the occasional ciggy, but you had one hell of a day under your belt. If there was ever a time, it was now.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Reid asked, his voice stiff and oppositional.

“Oh, so many things.” You said, your tone clever and unphased. Hotch let out a sigh as he sat back down in his chair. He was glad that you were talking openly now, at least. “Shall we go in alphabetical order, or start at my birth and work or way back from there?”

Reid let out another nasal thick sound. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood for banter.

You were met with nothing but a stony wall of silence, and cold glares of disapproval. It almost made you feel guilty. Almost.

“Let’s start with this,” Reid corrected you. “Why?”

Truthfully, you couldn’t give him that answer. You didn’t think you would ever have enough time to conjure it up within yourself.

“You’re the genius profiler, Doctor Reid.” You fired back coldly. “You tell me.”

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Abandoned Country House - Madison, GA. 2:20AM.

Prentiss led the team as they searched through the house. It was the only solid lead they had as to where you might be. It was a house that your parents used to own - a place of significance because you had lived there the summer when it first happened.

“Clear!”

She went through the living room, the kitchen, the entire first floor, leading the team with Reid at her side, guns drawn.

“Clear!”

As she crested the top of the stairs, she heard sobbing.

It was distinct - something that tugged harshly on her heartstrings.

Even though it was against protocol not to clear the rooms in order, she rushed toward it. Reid continued to flank her - obviously he had heard the noise too.

Prentiss landed a sharp kick on the door’s handle, causing it to fling open.

The picture on display in front of her almost caused her to drop her gun.

Hotch had been right.

You were on top of the man, straddling him. Both you and the man were badly beaten - but right off the bat, Prentiss could tell that he was far worse off. Clearly, you had bested him in the fight this time.

The contents of the room strewn about; broken glass, busted furniture, the curtain rod torn down. It looked like the remnants of a bad WWE brawl. You were the picture of desperation - heavy, hot tears coming from your eyes, blood smearing down your face from a gash on your forehead as you stared down the man beneath you with fiery madness in your eyes.

You had a knife to his throat. A large hunting knife - the same kind that all the other victims had been stabbed with.

You had the tip of it poised to his throat, just barely touching his skin. If you put any amount of pressure on the blade - if you bared down, then you would slice right through his esophagus. It would take almost no effort from you at all to end his life.

From what Prentiss could see, the man was unconscious. He was completely slack, his body still on the ground. He was bleeding from a small head wound. His life was entirely in your hands. He couldn’t fight back.

Both your hands shook vigorously as you struggled with the warring inside of you, as you struggled with the weight of the confrontation with your life’s biggest monster.

Though it went against everything inside of her, Emily kept her gun raised. She kept her arms stiff, keeping her gun pointed at you. As much as she detested that man, knowing what he had done - it was her job to shoot you if you tried to kill him. Right now, she hated that job.

“Put the knife down!” Prentiss ordered sharply.

You didn’t move.

Naturally, Reid, in all of his softness and empathy, slackened his arms and holstered his gun before anyone could blink.

“Come on, put it down.” She tried again.

You ignored Prentiss entirely, your hands still shaking, making no moves to lift the knife away from the man’s throat.

Reid moved to step into the room, and from his view at the top of the stairs, arms stiff and gun pointed in your general direction - Hotch called out to him.

“Reid-!” He tried to warn Reid against doing this. Of course, he didn’t listen.

Reid knelt down beside you, posturing in surrender with his arms. Of course, he wasn’t even on your radar at the moment. Your entire gaze, your entire focus was on the unconscious man underneath you - the true target of your agony.

“Y/N,” Reid said your name calmly, trying to capture your attention. “You don’t have to do this.”

You hesitated for a moment, and Prentiss worried that even his gentle voice wouldn’t be able to get through to you.

“I have to.” You sobbed out. More heavy tears slid down your face, and you began to shake more visibly, shockwaves moving throughout your entire body.

“You don’t have to.” Reid told you, his voice calming, gentle. “You - you can give me the knife, and then we can just… walk away. And then it all ends.”

“It won’t just end!” You screamed out, your voice a curtling weep that bounced off the walls.

It made Prentiss’ heart jump inside of her chest. If it wasn’t protocol, she would have dropped her gun and run over to comfort you with a hug. But she knew that you weren’t in the most stable place. You might have tried to stab her with the knife.

“It can end.” Reid assured you calmly. “You just have to come with me. You just have to put the knife down and-”

“I have to make it stop!” You screamed, trampling over his quiet voice. “I killed those women. I killed them!”

“Prentiss!” Hotch edged in, warning her.

If you didn’t move off of the unconscious man soon, then she would have to take you down.

“Just give him a minute!” Prentiss fired back. She had faith in Reid.

“We both know that’s not true.” Reid told you. “You didn’t kill them. You didn’t mean for this to happen-”

“He killed them because of me!” You shouted, cutting him off. “We both know it’s my fault.”

“It’s not.” Reid choked out. “Please don’t say that.”

There was a gutting silence.

“Please, just give me the knife.”

At this point he was doing some pleading of his own - but your hands were unsteady and you still refused to look at him.

You weren’t going to give up the fight that easily.

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Somewhere On The Country Backroads - Madison, GA. 2:11AM.

“I want two squad cars down the road, I want state police cutting off all the possible exits to the major highways.” Agent Hotchner was on the scene, doing what he did best - giving orders. “I want to cut off any chance of possible escape incase the suspect tries to flee-”

“Hotch, do you really think that’s necessary?” Morgan asked. “We’ve got the house. Thermal cam’s got two bodies on the second floor. There’s nowhere to run from here. We’ve got spike strips on all the dirt roads. No car is getting past any of that. It should function as a hard extraction from here.”

Hotch glared at Morgan as he fastened the straps on his bulletproof vest. The glare of the red and blue lights from the squad cars only made the deep frown lines on his face look firmer.

“I am not taking any chances.” Hotch said. “We both know this is an incredibly delicate matter. We found one of the victims across state lines. We know this suspect has mobility. I’m not risking finding another body.”

The air became tense as everyone realized what he meant by ‘another body’.

“I want tactical swat to go in first-” Hotch began, and was quickly cut off by Morgan.

“You’re sending in swat when there’s a hostage in there?” Morgan questioned harshly.

“Even if we go in there blazing, showing force, she might not come in quietly.” Hotch explained.

“You’re serious?” Prentiss replied, hooking the wire of her earpiece around her ear in order to tuck the mic in. “She’s the one you’re worried about? She’s a victim in all this.”

“You saw the incident report.” Hotch reminded her. “The amount of defensive wounds she had… the first time he attacked her, she fought back hard. She’s desperate, she’s feeling cornered, she-”

“She’s terrified right now.” Prentiss pressed harshly. “She doesn’t need a bunch of men going in there waving guns in her face.”

“She could sacrifice him.” Hotch theorized, further trying to prove his point. “This could be her chance to finally get justice. Finally getting rid of the man who’s tormented her for all these years.”

“So we have to bring them both in. Quietly.” Morgan said. “We can’t just go in there shooting. If your theory is correct, then she could use him as a human shield.”

Hotch nodded. “Fine. No tactical swat. Prentiss, you take the lead.”

“Yeah, and I’m taking Reid with me.” Prentiss told him sharply. “Somebody with a little compassion around here.”

Prentiss nodded and scoffed, walking past Hotch, gently whispering ‘what the hell is wrong with you’ on her way to get in the car with Reid.

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 1:45AM.

When JJ let out a harsh sigh, Emily turned to her, swiveling in the borrowed office chair with a creak.

“What is it?” Emily asked.

“Don’t you feel that?” JJ replied. Emily shrugged, waiting a moment for her to finish the thought. “That… overwhelming feeling of dread?”

Of course, it was obvious. No leads. No breaks in the case.

It was hopeless.

“Come on, I thought you were the hopeful one.” Rossi pointed out, tossing his empty paper coffee cup into a nearby trash can.

“How can I be hopeful when one of my best friends is caught up in all this?” JJ fired back. “If she-”

Before she could finish that thought, Reid stormed in, capturing everyone’s attention.

“Guys, I think we got the profile all wrong.” He announced, a look of worry knit into his features. “And - if I’m right, then I think I know where she is.”

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Abandoned Country House - Madison, GA. 1:45AM.

You knew that it was cruel, but you couldn’t help but to enjoy his groans of pain.

There had been so many others - so many monsters to take down. So many men that you had gotten rid of without a second thought. Men you had put bullets in that didn’t mean as much to you as this. So many others you had easily forgotten about. But he had taunted your soul in a special way. And you knew that you were enjoying this too much.

“Tell me you like it!”

You screamed, taking another downward swing with the piece of wood - a leg broken off from the chair he had bound you to. He had been convinced that you wouldn’t break free. Laughable. He should have known better.

When he didn’t respond, you took another swing.

You could have stopped. You could have ended it. But you didn’t.

“Come on, tell me you like it!”

You screamed in his face, sputtering blood across him. At one point, he had punched you in the mouth. You weren’t exactly sure where the blood was coming from. You didn’t exactly care.

That would be your excuse.

He had hit you too. You were battered. You were just a fragile woman, after all.

“You’re a fuckin’ crazy bitch.” He coughed, sputtering out some blood himself. “I… I always liked that about you. It was one of the reasons I fell in love.”

He grinned - bright red spread out across his teeth, and it gave you the intense desire to see those teeth missing. To make him swallow them.

“You don’t love me.” You told him firmly. “You just get an adrenaline rush from being around me because I’m not afraid of you.” You explained. “Unlike the other whores, I fight.”

While you were preoccupied with the words, he flipped onto his stomach and began crawling across the floor.

He thought you were too stupid to notice, but he was inching his way toward the hunting knife that had been thrown out of his hand during the scuffle. It was a slow, sluggish crawl. You had broken a few of his ribs, his kneecap. It was nice to see him so slow. You had probably severely damaged his internal organs with how hard you had been beating him with the makeshift baton.

It was worse than last time. You stood above him like a menace - watching and waiting. You hated that you knew you would take an odd kind of joy in removing his hope when you stole the knife from his grip.

Just as he grazed his fingers across it, you brought another harsh swing down across his achilles tendon, causing him to scream out in pain.

You still had a lot of strength left in you. He was tiring out.

He was losing the game.

“Come on baby, tell me how you like it.” You continued to mock him. “Tell me how good I am.”

“Fuck you.” He moaned out.

You felt satisfaction bloom inside of you - those were the words.

He had finally given up hope. He had finally realized that maybe: he wasn’t going to beat you. Maybe he wasn’t above you on the playing field anymore. He was fucking around with a fellow predator, not toying with his prey.

“Oh baby. You know I’m only doing this because I love you.” You said, repeating his own words back to him in a cruel mockery.

That was when he realized: this wasn’t just a lover’s spat. This was a culling.

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Just Outside of Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 1:04AM.

Reid needed some air.

Working on the case so diligently, not coming up with any leads. It was intensely difficult. Letting the balmy summer Southern air flow over him, getting a good gulp of the fresh air into his lungs - it was a bit more awakening than drinking his sixth cup of coffee for that day.

He was surprised when he rounded a corner, trying to go for a short walk to stretch his legs, and he saw a very recognizable face hovering near a gray Honda.

“Mrs. L/N?” He posed, approaching her gently. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”

JJ had promised to call her if there were any updates. Reid didn’t want to disappoint her by telling her that there were none.

“It’s Miss L/N.” She said quietly. “I never married.”

Reid nodded at this. “My apologies.”

She looked deeply troubled.

Reid waited patiently for her to reply to his initial question - for her to tell him whatever was burdening her. If he was lucky, it could help with the case. It was always the families who could help put those final puzzle pieces into place. That was something Gideon taught him, so he took it as sacred advice.

“You’re Doctor Reid, aren’t you?” She posed, stepping forward to approach him slightly - still stiff, still stand-off-ish. He easily understood why. He nodded in response. “My daughter speaks very fondly of you.”

Reid cracked a small smile at this.

His attention was then brought to a small box - a shoe box as she held it out to him.

“I don’t mean to bother you at this late hour, but… you said to let you know if I thought of anything that might help you.” She reminded him. He nodded again. “And I - well, the reason I didn’t bring these up the first time… you can understand that I have a need to protect my daughter?”

“Of course.” He affirmed. “It’s every parent’s natural instinct to protect their child.”

She looked solemn at his words.

“I had no idea that… that what happened to her could potentially be connected to these… these murders in any possible way.” She told him, shuddering as the word passed through her lips. “I was just trying to shield her, you have to understand.”

She handed him the shoebox, and when he took it and lifted off the lid, it took him only a moment to understand. He would need to find a quiet place to fully inspect the contents, but it was all being pieced together in his mind now.

“Thank you for bringing me this.” He told her quietly.

“Doctor Reid, you have to promise me that you’ll bring my daughter home unharmed.” She said, tears coming to her eyes. “She’s a good girl. Please, just bring her home.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t promise her that. Not under the circumstances.

“Ma’am… I will try my best. That is all I can promise you.” He told her.

She nodded in quiet understanding before Reid turned and marched back inside.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Abandoned Country House - Madison, GA. 11:03PM.

The flint of the lighter flicking seemed to be the loudest thing in the room in that moment - even with the low hum of the eleven o’clock news playing in the background.

It was so odd. Everything was exactly like you remembered it. Withered - but the same.

Even the chair you were sitting in. The old wooden chair that had been lugged up from the kitchen, one that you used to sit in for hours and do homework - it was rickety, but somehow the same.

You took a sharp drag off the cigarette after it was lit for you, continuing to listen to the feminine voice on the radio as the news played.

“I’m Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, and I’m speaking on behalf of the Madison Police Department. Tonight, we are making an urgent appeal to the public for information. Earlier this evening, a woman went missing in the area of-”

“I never took you for a smoker.” He said, his voice sharp and confident in the words.

You tapped your cigarette into the ashtray with your free hand before raising it up to your lips to take another drag. Right now, the smoke heavy in your lungs was the only thing keeping you sane.

“I never smelled it on you back then.” He added on when you didn’t respond to him. “Bitches who smoke always smell like dirtbags. You just… smelled nice.”

“I didn’t smoke back then.” You quietly replied.

He had driven you to take up the habit.

You took another drag of your cigarette - you wanted to enjoy it. The longer you could drag it out, literally, the longer you could delay the inevitable.

“-The suspect was last seen driving a blue and white, 1970s Ford truck. If you see the vehicle, please-”

“They’re lookin’ for ya.” He said casually, nodding toward the radio.

You wished they weren’t.

You directed the conversation elsewhere.

“Tell me how this is gonna end.” You urged him quietly, ashing your cigarette again.

“You and I both know… this was only ever gonna end one way.” He told you, his voice irritably cocky.

He had you now. He had won.

“-We believe that this abduction is connected to a string of recent murders in the area. It is critical that if you have any information, you call our tip line at-”

He rose from his spot then, and turned off the radio.

The silence was gutting.

He moved toward the door, but you abruptly caught his attention.

“Remember,” You told him. “You made me a promise.” You said quietly. “No more. No more girls.”

He chuckled at this. “Of course, darlin’. No more.”

It felt like a lie.

“But only because I love you.” He gave a filthy grin along with these words, and your insides shuddered.

You knew that he wasn’t actually capable of love. You had known that from the moment you first laid eyes on him.

You didn’t bother to muster any words in return.

He crossed the room back toward you and leaned down, planting a kiss on your forehead. Your body stiffened, entirely stony toward it. It was selfish on his part - loving on you like a doll, rather than trying to bring you any comfort.

He moved back to the door silently.

You worried about what would happen the moment he went out the door. He turned to you just before he left.

“Don’t run off now.” He said with a wink. Ego. Sarcasm.

“Where am I gonna go, Dan?” You sighed.

You lifted your tethered hand up to drive the point home, and the clink of handcuffs was now apparent in the otherwise silent room.

He shut the door with a chuckle. You put out your cigarette in the ashtray, reaching for the loose spoke in the back of the chair. This was a chair that you used to sit in for hours while studying. That loose spoke used to bug you all the time.

It came free after only a few tugs.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. QuitTrip (Corner Store) - Madison, GA. 10:24PM.

The previously dark parking lot of the secluded, back country convenience store was now entirely lit up with red and blue. Four police cars had crowded into the area, surrounding the place where you had last been seen.

Inside, under the harsh white fluorescent lights of the store, Hotchner and Prentiss were interviewing the store clerk - a young man who had supposedly been the last person to speak to you before the abduction.

“So, you’re sure that you didn’t see anything?” Hotch pressed the young man - someone who seemed so entirely nervous under his harsh, unmoving gaze.

“I swear, man, I didn’t see anything.” He said, his voice cracking slightly as he spoke. “She was parked in the back of the parking lot, and once you walk around the corner, there’s no way to see someone through the doors. It’s like - like a total blind spot, man.”

“The UnSub had to have known that.” Hotch noted quietly, turning to Prentiss. “He approached her knowing that he wouldn’t be seen.”

“Do you think he was waiting out there?” Prentiss wondered aloud.

Then she turned back to the clerk.

“Was there a man in here before she came in? He would have been in his 30s. Very cold, he wouldn’t have said anything. Just paid quietly and left. He might not have even bought anything - he might have just walked around, checking the blind spots. And if you asked him what he was looking for, he would have given you a glare rather than speaking. This man is not sociable. He’s very distant. He likely wouldn’t have looked you in the eye.”

The clerk shook his head.

“No, nobody like that.” He explained. “That lady - she was my first customer in, like, hours. She just bought her ciggies and left. And I thought it was weird cause she bought a lighter too. Most smokers already have a lighter on them.”

“I didn’t know Y/N smoked.” Prentiss said quietly.

“Me either.” Hotch confirmed.

Hotch’s attention was captured by a screen behind the counter - surveillance feed, showing several different places inside the store. There was one camera just outside the door. If he wasn’t mistaken, that camera was pointed at that ‘blind spot’ in the parking lot.

Without asking permission, he raised the partition and walked around the counter, his eyes hyper-focused on the screen.

“Can you get me this footage from a few hours ago?” He prompted toward the clerk. “The view of the parking lot. We need to see what L/N did after she left the store.”

The clerk nodded and began typing things onto the keyboard, and Hotch prompted him to stop when he saw you appear on the footage. Prentiss came around the counter as well, leaving the three of them crowded in close to the small screen as they watched the past version of you.

You walked across the parking lot - toward your car, a cigarette hanging out of your mouth. You were making determined steps - until something stopped you.

“The UnSub caught her attention.” Prentiss noted.

Then - something entirely strange happened. While staring at the man off screen, you leaned against your car, and began ashing your cigarette, as if chatting idly with him.

“He’s not using force.” Hotch thought aloud. “Do you think he’s got a gun trained on her?”

“Maybe.” Prentiss hummed quietly.

He was out of the frame, so it was only a guess.

Then, after a few moments of this - you simply walked off. You walked in the direction he had been standing.

“Did - did she just go with him willingly?” Prentiss gaped, entirely in shock.

When she glanced over her shoulder, Hotch was gone.

He stormed out into the parking lot, frantically gazing around. Prentiss followed him, chasing his chaotic energy.

“Hotch!” She called out. “Hotch-!”

“We need more camera angles! We need-”

“Calm down.” She urged, grabbing him by the shoulders.

“It just doesn’t make any sense.” He rasped. “Why would she go with him willingly? Why - why? Why would she?” He was frantic. “He must have threatened her. He must have-”

They both didn’t want to think of the obvious.

That you didn’t fear him. That - it hadn’t even been an abduction.

“He must have threatened her.” Prentiss easily agreed. “She wouldn’t have gone with him otherwise.”

They didn’t bring up the fact that you had a gun and plenty of training on how to use it. They didn’t bring up the fact that the profile said the UnSub couldn’t easily charm - he would have kidnapped you by force.

Unless you were special. Unless he thought he could talk to you specifically for some reason.

“Guys, what’s the news?” JJ asked, finally walking onto the scene.

She hated the grave looks on Prentiss and Hotch’s faces.

“I want you to put a press conference together.” Hotch said, straightening himself out and turning to her. “Make an appeal for witnesses. Tell them that there’s been a woman abducted in the area, but don’t tell them that L/N a Federal Agent. It could set the UnSub off if he believes that this abduction is being treated with a higher priority. If he feels a higher pressure from law enforcement, he might-”

“Right.” JJ nodded. Hotch didn’t need to say the words in order for her to understand. “So: release her name and her photo, but act like she’s just a regular civilian?”

Hotch nodded. “Exactly.”

“If I get going now, I think I could still make the eleven o’clock news.” JJ said, rushing off with her cell pressed to her ear.

“Let’s just hope that it brings Y/N home safely.”

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. QuitTrip (Corner Store) - Madison, GA. 8:03PM.

You felt an odd amount of relief having nicotine in your system again.

This was the first time you had smoked a cigarette in years. You had quit the habit shortly after you joined the FBI Academy when one of your advisers warned you that it might cause you to fail the fitness test. And you felt like you should just knock the habit, seeing as the only reason you had taken it up was because of… him.

But - all of this was so triggering. Being back in your same small shitty town. Feeling it suffocating you like a plastic bag.

The murders.

You sucked on the cigarette for dear life as you walked back to your car, and just as you were about to get in - the windows of the car open, inviting in the sweet summer air, the keys still inside because you did feel an odd amount of trust in your hometown - something captured your attention.

“Y/N.”

Hearing your name in that voice made you freeze on the spot. The warm breeze felt like ice against your skin as you took your hand off the door handle, turning toward him.

“You’re lookin’ gorgeous as ever, darlin’.”

“You.” You ground out the word with as much disdain as possible, hot rage boiling in your blood as you looked at him. “I should have known it was you.”

He let out a sharp chuckle - a sound that made your throat tighten up. He flicked his tongue out across his teeth, grinning his terrible Cheshire grin at you.

A hand instinctively went for your gun, and your palm hit an empty section of your belt. He let out another sharp chuckle when his eyes followed yours, making the same realization that you did.

You had left it sitting on the passenger’s seat of the car. Right beside your phone.

You wondered if you could dive through the open window before he could get to you. When he made a posturing move, brushing his unbuttoned plaid shirt away and revealing the gun he had strapped to his belt underneath - you realized he would shoot you if you moved too quickly.

You were stuck.

“Of course it’s me, baby.” He said, casually replying to your earlier words. “You had to know that I did all this for you. For us.”

Giving into your fate, you propped yourself against the side of the car - trying desperately to steady your wobbling legs without making it look like you were doing so. You tapped your cigarette, spilling some of the ash before you brought it to your lips once again.

“I missed you like hell.” He told you with a snakeskin grin.

“I didn’t miss you.” You bitterly fired back. “Not for a fucking second.”

“Guess I made it difficult to miss me, huh?” He said, cocky as ever. “With my frequent correspondence and all?”

“You know what I meant.” You fired back.

You glared at him sharply but didn’t say anything more, afraid that he would whip the gun out and shoot you.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, something that sounded utterly sarcastic.

“Ooh, darlin’ that’s harsh.” He said. “That would almost hurt. If I didn’t know the truth.”

You wanted to argue. You took in another large drag to help hold your tongue. You knew the results of arguing with him - it wasn’t worth it.

“So… I think you know how this goes.” He announced. “You can come with me now. Or… I can go get another girl.”

“No more girls.” You told him. “I’m here now. You won. Whatever business you have - it’s with me.”

You stamped out your cigarette as you walked toward him, and your phone began to ring on the front seat as his truck rumbled to life and pulled out of the parking lot.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 7:26PM.

“Hello! Everyone, listen up.” Hotch called everyone to attention as the local police continued to filter in, most of them standing around with cups of coffee in hand or notebooks out, ready to take notes. “We’re ready to give the profile.”

“Yes, and please keep in mind that this is just a general set of guidelines describing the suspect.” Rossi said. “This is not a concrete list of things you should be looking for. A profile is more useful in the elimination of suspects, rather than the inclusion of them.”

He then turned to Derek, who began reciting the profile that the team had put together so far.

“This UnSub, or Unknown Subject, is most likely a white male in his thirties to forties.” Morgan explained. “He drives an American made vehicle, something large enough to conceal and transport victims, and something that has off-road capability in order to get to the more secluded areas where some of the bodies were found. So think trucks, heavy duty vans, anything with thick treads on the tires and a large payload. And his vehicle will most likely be in a more discreet color. This guy won’t be driving around in something flashy. He’ll be in something that blends into the background, like a beige or black truck.”

“So what?” One of the local cops piped up. “We put out an APB for every single heavy duty black truck in the area? This is the south, do you have any idea how many people around here drive a truck? Especially ones driven by men in their forties.”

“There’s more.” Hotch noted, looking toward you.

“This UnSub likely believes that he is dating these women in some capacity before he kills them.” You explained. “He has left scraps of poetry at the scenes, pages of romance novels - several of the victims had wine in their stomachs or burns from candle wax on their skin. And it’s highly likely that he turns violent when the women reject his advances, or don’t live up to the fictionalized relationship he has made up about them in his mind.”

“How does that help us?” Someone asked.

“Well, it’s very likely that he frequents the same hunting grounds.” Rossi explained. “We encourage you to go to local bars, and nightclubs, even gyms or cafes and pass out the profile to women who fit this type.” He said, motioning toward the pictures of the other victims. “He will be on the hunt again soon, and he has a very narrow hunting ground, living in such a lowly populated area. So we might be able to catch him off guard if his potential victims have the profile as well.”

“This man is romantic, but he’s not charming.” You added on. “He isn’t sociable. He’s very cocky, very self-centered. He believes that he is God’s gift to women, and he has a very fractured sense of reality in general. If women reject him in everyday interactions, he will get noticeably irritated, and even violent. So he will be remembered as an unpleasant person in most women’s stories.”

“This UnSub most likely has an inside knowledge of law enforcement.” Reid stated. “But, because he has a very antisocial personality, he wouldn’t do well working with the public. We currently have our analyst combing through files of those who flunked out of the police academy or live in the area and are retired from the military in some capacity. We believe that he might have even been in prison for an unrelated crime or institutionalized at some point, giving him a close look at the inner workings of law enforcement, and also attributing to the large break between the first two crimes.”

Reid took a breath, and then continued on.

“He was knowledgeable enough to purposefully dump one of the bodies across state lines in order to get the FBI involved in this case, but it was just one of the bodies, and it was dumped in a very well trackied area where it would be found. So that leaves a heavy insistence that he was fed-up with the local police not giving his case enough attention or - simply not being smart enough to keep up with him.” He explained.

“He is very cocky.” Prentiss added on. “Incredibly over-confident. He is a narcissist to his core, and he believes that he will never be caught unless he wants to be. He thinks that he has an intricate cat-and-mouse game with law enforcement, and he can go off the grid and disappear at any time that he wants.”

“Well… isn’t that true?” One of the cops asked. “I mean, the guy’s been at it for years and we still haven’t caught him. There’s no DNA, no real leads.”

Hotch hummed, nodding. And then he walked over to the evidence board and motioned to the pictures of the two most recent victims - barely recognizable compared to the shining, smiling photos their families had provided.

“We believe that he’s decompensating.” Hotch explained. “He is growing more violent toward each victim, which means that he is getting more sloppy - eventually, he will go off-book. He will break his routine in some way, and that will be the moment he’ll give us something to catch him with.”

“So… you’re just waiting for him to kill again so you can actually catch the guy?” Someone asked sharply.

“No.” You easily replied. “We’re praying it doesn’t come to that.”

“Thank you everyone.” Hotch said, clearing his throat, giving an unconscious signal for everyone to disperse. “That’ll be all for now.”

Everyone easily fell under his authority, and meandered back to what they had been doing before, now armed with the profile and ready to distribute it to members of the public, to the potential victims.

You had a harshly, sickly feeling in your stomach as you gathered some of your files. It was the same feeling that had been turning your guts into knots since you had arrived back in Madison for the first time in years. Your eye accidentally caught the evidence board - the tall, intimidating wall lined with the gruesome photos of all the women.

Women who looked strangely like you. Same hair color, same skin tone, same body type. All of them horribly brutalized and left for dead. All of them terrorized, tortured right up until their last moments.

“Hey.”

JJ’s voice snapped you out of your swirling dark cloud of thoughts, drawing your eyes away from the evidence board with a gentle hand on your upper arm. You huffed out a harsh breath as you let her guide you, turning around to face the blonde woman as she stared you down with a distinct look of concern knit across her features.

“Are you okay?” She asked. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

She had a point. You had been doing this job for some time. You had gone to the FBI Academy straight out of college, after getting a degree in criminal forensics. And none of it ever bothered you. You had learned about the study of blood spatter and the decomposition of bodies on live body farms, and you never flinched.

But this case - it was getting to you.

It was likely the first time anybody on the team had ever seen you so disturbed.

“I’m fine.” You lied, trying to shrug off her touch.

“Come on.” JJ sighed in return. “I don’t need to be a profiler to figure out that was a big fat lie.”

You rolled your eyes at this.

“You’re so brilliant.” You let out a sigh of your own, and put down your files on the nearby conference room table. You stretched out your back, deciding that you would give her an inch, hoping that she wouldn’t take a mile. “I’m freaked out. So what? Doesn’t everybody have room for a bad day?”

“Of course.” She nodded. “Of course, you can have a bad day.” Her lips pursed, and you knew there was more coming. “Is - is it anything more than that?”

“I’m tired.” You lied again, hoping she wouldn’t call you out on it this time. “It’s been - what? More than twenty hours since we landed. For these guys it’s been years, searching for this bastard. I wanna catch him.”

“We will.” JJ assured you, sounding rather dull in her declaration.

“I’m gonna drive down the street and grab an energy drink or something.” You announced, grabbing your blazer off a nearby chair and putting it on. Not that you would need a jacket with the southern weather - but your cash and your keys were in the pockets.

“I thought you quit Redbull.” She chuckled.

“It’s been one of those days.” You replied, shaking your head as you walked out of the room.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 5:13PM.

“There’s still one thing that’s buggin’ the hell out of me.” Morgan announced as he walked back into the room with a fresh cup of coffee in hand.

“That is?” You posed, looking up from the stack of personal files - potential suspects - that you were reading in order to engage him in the conversation.

“What is with the two year hiatus from this guy?” He said, motioning to the board.

The first victim had been abducted and killed all the way back in the summer of ‘99, but none of the other victims matched up until a missing person from September of 2001. And from there, the killings picked up in frequency - and the killer had taken over twenty six victims in and around Madison up until now.

“It is weird.” You commented. “Usually after the first kill is when an UnSub is the most hungry for more. After that first taste for violence.”

Morgan raised a brow at your strange choice of words and you shrugged it off.

“Maybe he was hospitalized.” Reid said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere to make this comment, studying the board with his own intense expression. “Institutionalized? Maybe he was arrested for something completely unrelated, like - drugs, outstanding traffic violations?”

“That’s helpful.” You sighed.

“It could be.” Reid replied, sipping his own coffee. “I mean, we theorized that this UnSub has pre-existing knowledge of law enforcement - if he was in prison, maybe he was reading up on the law while he was in there? Who has closer knowledge of the law than ex-cons?”

“Good point.” Morgan nodded. “I’ll call Garcia and have her widen the search.”

“She is gonna love that.” You mumbled under your breath, already frustrated with the large pile of potential suspects you had to go through.

Morgan took out his cell and walked into the other room, and you heard a distant ‘hey mama!’ as he chirped to Garcia on the other end.

Then, you heard another voice that was all too familiar to you.

“See, you’ve all just been working so hard, I thought you could use some sustenance!”

It was your mother.

You rushed out of your seat to find her in the middle of the bullpen, handing out muffins from a large basket that she had in her hand.

It wasn’t entirely surprising to you, but it made your stomach sink. She was too much of a social butterfly for your liking. She knew about the last time you had been in this police station, she talked too much. No. You couldn’t risk her telling anyone.

“See, that one’s blueberry, you like blueberry?” She was chatting idly, being her usual overly social self.

“Yes, thank you so much Ms. L/N,” Prentiss smiled as your mother pushed more food into her hands.

“Oh please, call me-”

You knew that you must have looked like a storm, walking toward her with a scowl on your face.

“Ma!” You barked, much harsher than you meant to, causing her to look up at you abruptly. “Ma? What are you doing here?”

“Well see, you’ve been here all day, and you’ve been working so hard, so I made dinner for you and your friends,” She grinned, motioning toward a large tinfoil tray filled with mac and cheese that she had placed onto one of the desks next to a stack of paper plates and plastic forks. Naturally, a chunk of it was already missing.

You wanted to scream when Reid walked over and began scooping out a portion for himself.

“Ma, they’re not my friends, they’re my co-workers.” You said, exasperation ripe in your voice.

You knew that this, too, ended up sounding much harsher than you had intended. As if you didn’t think of these people as friends. But you couldn’t stand the woman babying you. It’s not like she did much of that when you were an actual baby.

“I’m an adult now, and-” You continued on, and she cut you off.

“Oh yes, yes.” She nodded, reaching out to pinch your cheek in an utterly frustrating way. “Your co-workers.”

“Please, Ma.” You sighed. “You can’t be here right now. This is a police station, not a bake sale.”

“She can stay for a few minutes, can’t she?” Prentiss grinned, peeling the wrapper off her muffin. “We can take a break for dinner. I wanna hear some childhood stories about you.”

Reid looked up eagerly at this, and you glared at both of them.

“Oh, you should hear about the time she painted her face blue with the paint from-” Your mother began to tell a delightful embarrassing story, but you cut her off.

“No.” You said sharply. “I’m sorry, but we have work to do. Important work. Once we actually catch the guy, I’ll bring everyone by the house for tea and cookies and you can show everyone my naked baby pictures, the whole nine yards. Just - not now.”

You unceremoniously ripped the basket of muffins out of her hands and placed them on the desk beside the tray of mac and cheese, and she began to argue with you, calling you rude, telling you that she had raised you with better manners while you ushered her out the door.

Prentiss and Reid exchanged a particular, concerned look as they watched you and your mother argue through the glass doors of the precinct.

“Now what do you think that was all about?” Emily asked quietly.

“For once, I have no idea.” Spencer mumbled in return.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Georgia Highway 72 - Madison, GA. 1:32PM.

“This is new.” Morgan noted as the two of you walked away from the SVU, approaching the dumpsite where the latest victim’s body had been found. “This guy doesn’t usually dump bodies out in the open. You think he was in a rush?”

The two of you had been sent to check it out while Hotch and Prentiss spoke to the family, and the others went over evidence from the many pre-existing cases at the station.

“Not likely.” You replied. “Preliminary report says there’s still no DNA, no skid marks from his tires, no shoe prints. He’s not getting sloppy.” You felt a sickly wave of vomit splash up as you looked at the woman - her ankles sticking out of the tall grass just off the edge of the highway, where she had been left, entirely visible for anybody passing by to see. “This was a present. Like a fuckin’ cat leaving a dead mouse on the porch. He wanted us to find her. And he wanted us to find her quickly.”

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Morgan noted, tentatively stepping into the grass and gently moving the long spokes of greenery back to get a better look at the victim. “He’s definitely escalating.”

You crouched down to get a better look yourself, and you had to agree.

Her face was almost entirely caved in, but it appeared to be from a series of blunt hits, and not from a singular swing with a heavy object. Between the pre-mortem swelling and the post-mortem rage, where he had continued to mutilate her even after her death, she was practically unrecognizable from the photo that her family had provided you with. The only reason the team had been able to confirm her identity for sure was that she had been reported missing, and she had been found wearing a unique custom charm bracelet that her parents could confirm belonged to her.

You wished that you could guarantee they would never see her body in this state.

“What’s that?” Morgan wondered aloud.

You hummed back in confusion.

Before you could wonder any further about what he meant, he reached out and gently pried open the victim’s mouth, fishing out a small piece of plastic that he had seen sticking out from the corner of her swollen, bruised lips. He had to fight to get it out of her stiff, death rigored body, but when he was able to - a small plastic bag came out of her mouth.

A small plastic bag containing a piece of white paper.

“What the hell?” Morgan mumbled quietly.

Naturally, he opened the bag and took out the paper, and you looked on with nervous curiosity as he read what was on the note.

“You are the stars hidden by clouds.” He read aloud. “I know you’re there even when I can’t see you. Your shine peeks out and reaches me in the depths of my soul. Tell me your arms are long enough to reach me across oceans. Tell me someday we will be together, somehow, some way. Tell me that this love we have can survive being together as well as we’ve survived being apart. Tell me we are more than the chasm of our divide.”

Bile splashed up in your throat.

You hated that the quote was distinctly familiar to you. You hated how you knew it.

You could still hear his voice in your head, and it made your bones quake.

“Hmm.” Morgan looked over the paper thoughtfully. “It’s another page ripped out of a book. Just like the other one. I’ll call Garcia and have her look it up, maybe-”

“You don’t have to.” You said, hoping that your throat wasn’t too painfully constricted around your words. “It’s Jacqueline Simon Gunn.”

Morgan easily saw the haunted look behind your eyes - the years old terror that you were having a much harder time suppressing now.

Oddly enough, it was a feeling that he knew well. Perhaps that’s why he saw it in you so easily.

“You alright?” He bothered to ask, even though he knew the answer was ‘no’.

“I’m fine.” You lied. “We should bring this back to everyone else.”

You rushed away from the crime scene like a bat out of hell, and even though he knew he should have pressed further - he let you.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 10:08AM.

“Good morning, y’all.”

The BAU was greeted by Chief Dalton, the Madison County Chief of Police, as you all filed into the small police department.

“You can set up in the conference room over there, I hope we got y’all everything you need.” He said, flashing a warm, welcoming smile.

“This looks fine, thank you.” JJ said, reaching out to shake his hand. “I’m Special Agent Jennifer Jareau, this is Doctor Spencer Reid,” She pointed to him, and he nodded in return - of course, rather than shaking hands. “This is Special Agent Emily Prentiss, Agent Rossi, and Agent L/N. Our Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner and Special Agent Morgan will be here later - they wanted to go and interview some of the families of the victims, get some more background information.”

“L/N?” He motioned toward you, his eyes becoming fixated on you as you set down your bag and lifted one of the lids off the boxes to get a glance at some of the files. “That name sounds awful familiar to me - are you from Madison?”

“Oh yes, I am,” You grinned at him, stepping forward and giving him a handshake, to which he grinned back widely. “I grew up here. This is actually my first time back in years.”

“Well, welcome home.” He said. “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Me too.” You easily agreed.

You thought that would be the end of it, until:

“You know I hardly recognized you. Such a pretty face, but the last time I saw you, you was beat to a darn pulp.” He remarked, giving a pained chuckle.

Your stomach swelled with anxiety, and it felt like a pure balloon of concrete sitting inside of you. You felt all the eyes in the room on you - Rossi, JJ, Emily, Spencer - all of them staring you down as this man aired your dirty laundry like it was as casual as the weather report.

“You came through here - what was it, the summer of ‘99? I’ll never forget that assault report. I’m surprised you can still see out of that right eye of yours, with the way-”

“Coffee?” You cut him off when you managed to find your voice, rushing to change the subject and praying he would get the hint. “Where can I get a coffee around here? Long flight. And we’ve had an early morning. Long flight, going over the case.”

You didn’t even realize you were tripping over your own words, repeating yourself in a rush to fill the air so he wouldn’t speak about the past anymore.

“Oh, it’s right through there. In the break room.” He said, motioning vaguely behind him.

“Would you mind showing me, please?”

You knew it was cowardly, but you were now desperate to escape your colleagues, and wanted to drag the Chief away before he spilled anything else from his loose lips.

He escorted you out of the room and it was only a mere moment before conversation ensued about the strange thing that had just happened.

“Am I gonna be the first person to say ‘what the hell’?” Rossi asked, looking around to his teammates, who all had equally shocked and confused expressions.

“It’s a small town. These people don’t exactly understand secrecy. Or tact.” JJ sighed.

“Yeah, but why would Y/N keep that a secret from us?” Spencer asked, frowning. “If she was assaulted-”

“Yeah, in the summer of ‘99.” Emily pressed. “That was a long time ago. Have you told everyone on the team every little detail about your life from ten years ago?”

“Eight years.” Spencer easily corrected her.

“Whatever.” Emily rolled her eyes. “We’re not here to profile her. We’re here to catch another scumbag and leave.”

There seemed to be a resounding nod at this.

“If she wants to tell us about what happened, she will.” Rossi added on.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Outskirts of Madison - Madison, GA. 9:52AM.

“There’s my beautiful girl.”

He had a perfect view of you through the scope of his gun.

Of course, he would never hurt you. There was no bullet in that gun that was intended for you. This was just the perfect way to see you. Up close and personal. Just the way he liked it.

This was the first time he had seen you in so long. You wore your makeup differently now - your hair was a bit different. But you were still his girl.

“You’re gonna love the present I left for ya.”

You spoke his language - violence.

You wrote your life in blood, just like he did.

You were perfect. His perfect girl.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. Inside the BAU Jet - Somewhere Above America. 7:12AM.

“So, the ME dates eight of these victims from within the last year alone?” Prentiss questioned, looking over some of the files on the table in front of her.

“Well, it’s difficult to tell with the soil erosion and the heavy rain that the area had recently, but they are significantly less decomposed than the others.” JJ explained.

“What I don’t understand,” Morgan noted. “Why would he give up his gig now? I mean, twenty four victims in a mass grave in the middle of the woods, and he leaves a twenty-fifth victim in the middle of the road, clearly intending for police to find it. With a damn note attached, giving up the exact coordinates of his mass dumpsite. Why?”

“It is strange.” Reid agreed. “Typically, whenever killers have contact with the police, it is to taunt them for their inability to get caught, believing that the police are stupid and they as killers are invincible.” He said. Naturally, this rolled into a rant as more facts came to mind about the subject.

“Serial killer Dennis Rader, also known as the BTK killer, standing for Blind, Torture, Kill - he taunted police with letters over a period of three decades, between 1974 and 1991, each one that he sent to the local police simply saying ‘good luck hunting’.” Reid explained. “Occasionally, he would send them graphic descriptions of how he had posed the bodies at each crime scene. And he was only caught when a floppy disc he sent to a local television station was traced back to a computer that he had used at his church.”

Reid laughed at this revelation, finding it amusing. With all eyes staring at him, he reached the realization that this wasn’t helpful to the case at hand - and then he easily clammed up.

“So, this UnSub gives up the dumpsite because… he’s feeling remorseful? He wants to get caught?” Rossi theorized.

“The level of violence across these recent victims has no indication of remorse.” You replied. “One of the bodies found at the dumpsite was missing over half her teeth, and had all ten of her fingers broken in multiple places. Seemingly pre-mortem.”

There was a heavy silence at this.

“Perhaps he’s feeling ignored,” Hotch posed. “He feels like his crimes aren’t being well covered by the media and he wants glory. He finally wants recognition for what he’s done.”

“Well, wouldn’t he have sent some kind of manifesto or another letter to the police?” Morgan posed. “And it seems like the guy went through a whole lot of trouble for a long time, trying not to get caught. He buried them out in the woods, secluded. Wrapped them in plastic, scrubbed the bodies clean so there’s absolutely no DNA. Doesn’t seem like someone looking for glory to me.”

“Not to mention that he wrote the coordinates for the dumpsite on the back of a page ripped out of a novel.” Rossi said, squinting down at one of the files - a close up forensic photo that had been sent over by the local police department.

Prentiss held out her hand, and Rossi handed over the photo, and then she began reading the words off the page aloud.

“-I wish, as well as everybody else, to be perfectly happy, but-”

“-but, like everybody else, it must be in my own way.” You finished the quote before she could, the words flashing through your mind with a sickly twist in your gut. It was all too familiar to you, in the worst way. “It’s Sense and Sensibility. Jane Austin.”

Everyone fixated on you with a strange gaze, wondering how you knew this off the top of your head. Especially when usually this would only be something that Reid would be able to recite so perfectly by heart.

“Maybe he thinks that he’s romancing these women?” Prentiss theorized, trying to move on from the strange moment.

“That’s plausible.” Hotch agreed. “When we land, Morgan and I will go interview some of the families. JJ, get us their contacts. I want to know if any of these women had problems with an ex boyfriend or even a bad date whom they rejected. It could be someone they once viewed as a potential romantic partner that went horribly wrong.”

JJ nodded at this, going to look through her files for the information.

“This level of torture - it’s likely a substitute for sexual gratification.” Morgan theorized, looking at the crime scene photos one again. “Maybe he is romancing these women, but in his mind, this is the ultimate form of romance? Having all of his conquests together in death - it’s a declaration of what a casanova he is. In his fractured world.”

“It still doesn’t explain why he gave up the dumpsite to the police.” Prentiss argued.

“Men like to brag about their sexual exploits.” Rossi said, nodding toward Morgan. “If these women are his conquests, in his mind, then he wants his manliness, his accomplishments, to be appreciated by other men.”

Prentiss sharply rolled her eyes at this.

“Well, at least we know our UnSub’s not a woman.” She remarked sharply.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. BAU Offices (FBI Headquarters) - Quantico, Virginia. 6:15AM.

JJ stood at the front of the room, ready to present the newest case to everyone.

“Last night, a body was discovered on the backroads of South Carolina, about five miles outside of the town of Delph. She was found naked, mutilated. Heavy bruising all over her body that insinuates the killer kept her and tortured her for days. Final cause of death appears to be blunt force trauma from multiple hits to the head, but she also had several shallow stab wounds across her body, seemingly from some kind of hunting knife with a rough blade.”

JJ explained, beginning to present the case as she clicked the small remote, causing images of the crime scene to pop up on the large screen in the room.

“The victim - now identified as Ashley Prembrooke, hadn’t even been reported missing. She left her parents house in Madison, Georgia, about three days ago to drive back to her dorm at the University of South Carolina. When she didn’t show up on time, her roommate assumed that she was staying at home for a few extra days. Her father has cancer, so she wanted to be there for him.”

There seemed to be a particularly dark aura in the room at this news.

“Did the killer know that she wouldn’t be reported missing, or did he just snatch her up by chance?” Morgan asked.

“Her car was found abandoned at a rest stop a few miles from the border of Georgia.” JJ explained. “So… it seems to be random.”

“Well, I hate to ask this,” Rossi said. “But why are we being called out for just one body?”

“That’s the thing.” JJ sighed.

She clicked the clicker again, and several close-up photos appeared. Photos of the victim’s mutilated body - among the harsh bruising on her torso, there was a piece of white paper, partially stained with blood. It had been folded and stapled into her flesh.

“The victim was found with this page… stapled into her skin.” JJ said, clearly finding the words disturbing to speak aloud. “Written on the back, was a set of coordinates. Local police discovered that these coordinates lead to a random patch of woods, about ten miles outside of Madison, Georgia.”

JJ queued more pictures onto the screen. It was those very woods - overturned dirt. And more than a dozen bodies, wrapped in plastic among the soil.

“It was the site of a mass grave with twenty-four other victims - all women around the same age, with the most recent ones all having the same body type, the same hair color, same general makeup as Ashley Prembrooke.”

“He has a type.” Hotch stated the obvious.

“And for some reason, he tipped the police off to his hiding place.” JJ reminded them all.

“Twenty four victims?” Prentiss questioned, clearly shocked by this number.

“That’s what they’ve found so far. The decomposition on some of the bodies seems to go back as far as a decade, but it’s difficult to date them exactly.” JJ replied.

“So… the guy is experienced, hasn’t been caught in years, and he hands over his honey pot to the cops? Is he trying to get caught? Is he feeling guilty?” Rossi posed.

“No, not with that level of violence. There’s no remorse there.” Morgan replied.

“He dumped Ashley Prembrooke over state lines. We could be looking at somebody with an incredibly wide hunting ground who gave up one of many dumpsites as a way to taunt police.” Hotch theorized.

“That doesn’t seem to be the case.” JJ explained. “So far, eight of the most recent victims have been matched up with missing persons reports, all of them women from Madison. All within the last year alone. It seems like he targeted Ashley because she was from Madison - that’s his comfort zone.”

When the pictures of the missing women - now confirmed dead, murdered violently, popped up on screen, your throat tightened.

You had known at least two of them. You had gone to school with them. You had seen them cheer proudly at high school pep rallies - you had known them lively and bright. And now they were bones rotting in the soil, taken by some monster.

Beyond that, there was an alarming trend.

They looked like you. You couldn’t deny that. Same hair color, same body type, same skin tone.

And they were from your hometown.

Between this, and the letter, the morning was getting to be too much for you. You wanted to believe it was all a series of terrible coincidences, but…

Looking across the roundtable at you, Reid was the only one who saw that sickly look come over your face. He was desperate to know what was troubling you.

“Reid?” Hotch got his attention, finding it strange that the overly talkative man was quiet this morning. “You’ll work the geographical profile?”

“Yes.” Reid nodded, finally taking his eyes off you. “It’s unusual for the killer to hunt wider than a five hundred mile radius from home. So it’s likely that he lives, works, and operates all within Madison.”

“Good. We could be looking at a copy-cat who knew about the previous killer’s dumpsite, or… something else entirely. But we need to get on the ground there and find out.” Hotch said. “Wheels up in thirty.”

Everyone dispersed from the table when Hotch finalized with this, and you found yourself much dizzier than you realized as you tried to stand. As everyone moved to their desks to gather their things, you moved to the counter to get a coffee - hoping to calm your nerves.

“Y/N.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Reid’s voice came from behind you - your own blood was pumping in your ears, and seemingly, he had snuck up behind you. But his usually quiet footsteps simply couldn’t be heard beyond the nagging thump of your own anxiety.

“What?” You barked back, knowing it was far too harsh.

“Are - are you alright?” He asked, hesitant to bother you with the question.

“I’m fine.” You lied as you dumped the sugar packets into your cup, your shaking hands accidentally spilling some across the counter top.

“Are you sure?” Reid pressed.

You let out a heavy sigh and turned to face him, crossing your arms heavily over your chest.

“What?” You said the word again, sternly, glaring at him.

All he did was give you a soft, understanding expression in return.

You hated it.

You hated how he was so open - it was almost horrifying, how you could have easily told him what was bothering you.

Sweet, accepting, understanding Reid.

If you told him the truth, he probably would have told you some statistic that he found comforting. It would have been sweet, coming from him. But then, he would have been looking at you with those eyes all damn day, holding pity in his heart and not truly focusing on the work that needed to get done.

“Can you look at the shit we see every single day and always be okay with it?”

You easily made up an excuse, pretending you were rattled by the crime scene photos, even though this murder was no more graphic in nature than any other you had been subjected to seeing recently.

“I’m human. So what?”

Reid studied your face carefully. He saw guilt dancing in your eyes - the way you gently bit your lip was your tell for lying, that much he knew from playing many rounds of poker with you on the plane rides home.

But he felt that simply nagging you more wouldn’t get the truth out of you. Not right now.

“Okay.” He acquiesced. “I know it’s hard. If you ever need someone to talk to-”

You stormed off, accidentally slamming into his shoulder on the way along in your haste to escape the conversion. Reid heavily eyed the cup of coffee that you had left cooling on the counter before he turned and left himself.

…

Wednesday, August 15th, 2007. BAU Offices (FBI Headquarters) - Quantico, Virginia. 6:04AM.

You walked into the bullpen with your bag on your arm, sipping a strong coffee in a travel mug you had brought from home.

“You look tired.” Emily commented as you walked over to your desk. “Late night?”

You moaned in reply, not yet ready to let go of nursing your coffee mug, taking a few more long gulps as you took the strap of your bag off your shoulder and slung it into your chair.

“Last night, the fire alarm in my building went off at 3am.” You told her, finally surrendering the mug and putting it down on your desk. “I was out of bed in a panic, barely awake, went into the hallway to evacuate - and the sprinklers had gone off. So I ended up standing outside for more than an hour in my little jammies, soaking wet, and it turns out - some teenager from the third floor pulled the alarm because he was having an argument with his mom. He didn’t want to go to summer school.”

“Yikes.” Derek commented. “Well, you know, if you ever need a calm, cozy place to sleep, you can always give me a call. And you can bring your little jammies.” He told you with a wink. You rolled your eyes, knowing that flirting was his default. “As long as you don’t mind Clooney licking at your toes in the mornin’.”

That almost made it sound more appealing. You did love that dog.

“You know, a study was done at the University of New Hampshire that concluded that twenty to thirty minute windows of sleep actually optimize the human brain for functionality the most.” Spencer added on, leaning back in his chair at his desk as he explained this.

“The schedule of a ten to twelve hour work day, followed by an eight hour sleep period has only been instituted in society as a commonality since the industrial revolution. And it doesn’t actually flow with how the human brain has been optimized by evolution. Before that, most people optimized their lives around a wake-sleep period of three to four hours, taking care of chores in the morning, participating in a midday nap, and then socializing in the evening and partaking in community events before sleeping again in the evening. And most communities functioned around people sleeping and waking at vastly different times rather than everyone having one collective morning routine.” He concluded, giving you a smile.

You found his rambling fascinating, but you found it ironic that you could barely process half of what he had said - because you were too tired.

“Well, unfortunately we can’t all live in villages and pick berries for a living.” Emily remarked with a yawn.

The conversation shifted when Penelope walked in, and gave you a bright smile.

“Good morning, pretty girl.” She greeted you.

“Mornin’, Penny G.” You replied.

“This arrived on the mailcart for you, postmarked from a few days ago, stamped express. I figured you’d want to have eyes on it as soon as possible.” She told you, handing you a very average looking white envelope.

You weren’t sure why, but it invoked a strange feeling in your gut.

The moment that you saw the handwriting on your front - the script that made up your name.

The way he had written it.

Bile rose up in your throat, and you forced yourself to swallow it back down. All eyes in the room immediately knew that something was wrong.

“What is it?” Emily asked.

“Nothing.” You quickly replied.

You didn’t even want to open it, but bitter curiosity was eating at you.

How the hell had he found your work address? He knew where you worked now?

“I’m gonna - bathroom.” You mumbled an excuse as you rushed back out of the room again, practically fleeing toward the bathroom, leaving all eyes on your shadow.

In particular, Spencer’s eyes followed you hard as you retreated. He wondered how a simple letter could upset you so much.

You secluded yourself safely in a locked stall, your heart thumping in your chest as you began to tear into the letter. The envelope turned to sinew in your hands with your anxious inability to open it properly. In a few moments, you pulled out the piece of paper with a shaking hand, and dropped the shredded envelope onto the floor.

You barely managed to read its contents through tearful eyes.

Lover,

Fate has sent us on such different paths, but I will be with you again soon.

I still miss you every single day. I remember your smell.

I know none of the men you have spent your recent years with can measure up to me, which is why I have set you on the path back to me.

“I wish, as well as everybody else, to be perfectly happy; but like everybody else, it must be in my own way.”

-Daniel

Your chest caved in when you realized that there was something taped to the corner of the page.

You recognized the piece of dark cloth in an instant.

It was from that night. He had kept it.

You couldn’t keep the bile down that time. You turned to the toilet and puked up a horrible swirl of black coffee and half a toaster waffle that you had scarfed down while getting dressed for work.

When you had just barely caught your breath, you heard the door to the bathroom creak open.

“Y/N?” Emily called out your name. “Are you in here?”

You didn’t answer.

Instead, you heaved a large glob of putrid spit into the toilet and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her voice now coming from right outside the stall you were in.

“I’m fine.” You handed out that lie, not knowing how many times in the next day you were going to be saying it.

“You don’t sound fine.” Emily told you. “I thought I heard you throwing up.”

“Bad sushi.” You lied. “Stopped by the corner store on my way home. You know I never cook. Food poisoning is usually 50/50 with that kind of shit. Just another thing to add to my great night, right?”

You let out a sour, sarcastic chuckle, but Emily didn’t follow suit.

You knew that you would have to face her sooner or later, so you wiped your mouth again and then turned and unlocked the stall door.

“I’ll be fine.” You told her, throwing her a very fake smile.

“Yeah.” She said, tone flat, entirely disbelieving. “Would it have anything to do with that?”

She motioned to the letter, which you had almost forgotten was crumbled up in your fist.

“Can I see?”

You didn’t even consider how suspicious it would be, but as her hand moved toward the paper, you ripped it up and tossed it into the toilet, grabbing the envelope up off the floor and tossing it into the mess of paper and vomit as well before you flushed it all down.

“It’s nothing.” You grunted out, another very poor lie coming from your lips as you exited the stall and moved toward the sinks. “It’s garbage.”

You turned on the tap and leaned down, taking in a mouthful of water to rinse out your mouth while she watched you with careful, piercing eyes.

“It’s kind of pathetic that you’re trying so hard to bullshit me.” Emily remarked. “Not just because we’re both profilers, but because it’s so painfully obvious that something is wrong.”

You swirled the water around your mouth, rinsing it out, and then spit into the sink before you turned the tap off. When you rose up to your full height, you caught Emily’s eye in the mirror - pitying. You hated it.

It was that kind of pity that held you back from telling her the truth.

She reached over to the dispenser and got you some of the paper towel, handing it to you as she spoke again.

“You know you can tell me what’s bothering you, right?” She said, reaching up to put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

There was a small, quiet moment - the words edged on your tongue.

You truly considered just coming out with it.

But then-

A harsh knock on the door cut through the silence.

“Y/N? Em?” JJ poked her head in through the door, clearly looking for the two of you. When she spotted you, she continued on. “I need everybody at the roundtable in five.”

“Let’s get going.” You said, wiping your mouth and then crumpling the paper towel to toss it into the garbage can.

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Madison Police Department - Madison, GA. 1:45AM.

Reid stormed in, capturing everyone’s attention.

After being given a shoebox full of strange letters by your mother, he had finally pieced it together. He finally realized the secret you had been hiding - the thing that put you right in this killer’s crosshairs.

“Guys, I think we got the profile all wrong.” He announced, a look of worry knit into his features. “And - if I’m right, then I think I know where she is.”

He motioned to something in his hands - it was a worn-out old shoebox, something that made everyone curious and confused.

“What the hell is that?” Prentiss asked.

“Come on.” Reid ushered everyone into the conference room, and once the whole team was gathered, he shut the door.

He opened the box and spilled it into the middle of the table, revealing a flood of hand-written letters. JJ stood back in shock, Hotch observed carefully and silently as usual, and Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss began to pick through them while Reid explained his revelation.

“Y/N’s mother gave me these.” He explained. “All of them are addressed to Y/N, and from what I can see, they’re pretty much weekly, and they go back as far as 1999.”

“When the first murder occurred.” Morgan easily pieced the two things together.

“Not only that,” Reid added on. “The first murder took place in August of ‘99.” He said, pointing to the picture of the first known victim on the evidence board. “And I think the first letter, or one of the earliest, is from July of ‘99. At least.”

“So - so she was having correspondence with the killer?” JJ questioned. “What? Was he in prison? Are you saying that Y/N is involved with this in some way?”

“No-” Reid rushed to correct this assumption, and Morgan cut him off.

“She was at Quantico when the latest victims were killed. Even if the guy has a partner, I really don’t take her as bein’ responsible for this.” He said.

“Plus, these don’t exactly read as love letters.” Pretniss pointed out, her expression growing disturbed as she read what the killer had written from the letter in her hands.

“-every day I dream of you, my love. I remember the way you felt underneath me - clawing for your life, desperate. I remember the way you screamed. Tasting your blood for the first time made me feel alive again. I hope the bruises meant as much to you as they did to me.”

“The use of ‘I’ language denotes self importance - the author has a natural narcissistic personality disorder, but he pretends that it’s a fulfilling two-way relationship, when naturally it’s a fixation on someone who could never truly live up to his fantasies.” Reid explained.

The room fell silent as the reality of it hit everyone. You were the target of someone truly dangerous. Someone who was going to kill you when you didn’t perform the fantasy that he had in mind for you.

“She was being stalked.” Reid declared quietly, sounding defeated. “She still is.”

“These killings aren’t someone having separate, individual fantasized relationships with each victim; this is about the killer repeating the same relationship over and over again, performing the same ritual killing in order to relive the same fantasy over again, projecting it onto different women of the same type.” Hotch said, coming to the realization as he stared at the different victims photos on the evidence board with a firm look on his face. “He’s been in love with the same woman in his mind for years, but nobody can live up to the real thing. That’s why he gave up the dump site. Because he wanted to lure her here. He wanted the FBI here, because he wanted to get L/N here.”

“Okay, but the bigger question is: why L/N? What was the incident that got him fixated on her in the first place?” Rossi questioned, asking what was on everyone’s mind.

JJ’s face was struck with horrible realization, and she ran to the door, ripping it open. She screamed the Chief’s name at the top of her lungs until she got the man’s attention, looking entirely crazed to everyone else in the station. Naturally, she didn’t care. He bustled over, scurrying toward her urgent voice, spilling coffee on himself in the process.

“Chief.” JJ breathed out. “You said that Y/N came through the station, and she was beaten up the last time you saw her - when was that?”

“Oh, I dunno?” He creased his brows with concentration, trying to remember. “About ‘98? ‘99?”

“Did she file a report about the incident?” JJ asked.

“Yeah.” The Chief replied. “It was a break-in. Poor thing. Summer vacation, her mother wasn’t home, off with the church on a retreat hittin’ the bingo halls up in Texas. She said that she never saw the attacker, though. He was wearin’ a ski-mask.”

There was a silent exchange among the group that said they knew the truth - you had seen the attacker, you knew him. It’s why you had gone with him willingly this time. But you hadn’t told the police the truth back then because you had been too scared.

“Can you get me that report?” JJ asked.

After too many anxious minutes, the Chief came back with an old file in hand, and JJ snatched it out of his hands with a mumbled thank you before she shut the door in his face once again. She placed it down on the table among the mess of letters, and flipped it open.

“Oh my god.” Emily gasped when she saw the photos inside.

There was a spread of old polaroid photos, pinned to the sides of the file. They were almost too graphic for the team to look at - one showing the damage to your face; both of your eyes bruised, one of them entirely swollen shut. Scratches, deep gashes, harsh bruising all over your body. You were wearing a dark cotton tee shirt with patches ripped out of it - as if someone had been clawing at you and nearly ripped the clothing off your body to keep you from getting away.

“This wasn’t a burglary.” Derek mumbled, frowning as he picked up one of the photos and inspected it closer.

“Get Garcia on the line,” Hotch told JJ.

She dialed the tech’s number on the conference hub, having to unbury the small bit of technology from some papers before she did it. It rang for a few moments before the woman on the other end picked up.

“Where’s our girl?” Garcia asked anxiously, talking about you. “Is there any news? You’re calling because there’s good news, right?”

“Babygirl,” Derek called out, trying to get her to focus, but she trampled right past this and continued to ramble on.

“Please don’t tell me she’s dead!” Garcia shrieked on the other end. “Cause I can’t keep losing people! And I know it’s selfish to say that I can’t lose her, but she’s one of my best friends, and I’m gonna be a mess! And she promised to be the maid of honor and my wedding, and I know I’m not even engaged, and I don’t even have a boyfriend, but I need to have her around for big milestones in my life like that, she’s like the best person I know, and-”

“Garcia, we need you.” Hotch told her firmly, cutting off her emotional ranting.

“Right.” The tech replied, sucking in sharply, trying to catch her breath. There was some scraping in the background - the wheels of her chair on the floor as she scooted her chair into her desk. “What do you need? I’m here.”

“I need you to look up reports of rape in and around Madison County between 1991 and 1999.” Hotch told her.

“Rape?” Garcia replied, seemingly shocked by the topic and how it might relate to the case at hand - how it might relate to you.

“Come on, babygirl.” Derek encouraged her. “Work your magic.”

“Yeah. I got it.” She said hesitantly, and then there was the clacking of her keyboard as she worked.

“Oh. Ugh.”

“What is it?” Rossi was the first to ask.

“There’s over five hundred cases.” Penelope told them, clearly disgusted by this number.

“Can you narrow it down to women in their twenties? With similarities to the victims who have been targeted by the killer. Same hair type, same race, same body type.” Hotch told her.

“Turning on the creep filter.” Garcia said, using her usual sense of humor that she turned on to shield herself. “That leaves us with… about twenty cases.”

“Were any of them prosecuted?” Hotch asked.

“Two of them.” Penelope replied. “A couple of sorority sisters from the University of Georgia were held at gunpoint and raped by a pizzaman in ‘95. He went to trial, got ten years. And he was paroled for good behavior in 2003. Yikes.” Emily rolled her eyes in agreement with his comment. “And shortly after his parole, he crashed his car into a tree in a drunk driving incident. Looks like he’s probably not your guy.”

“What about the other eighteen cases?” Reid asked.

“Um… no.” Garcia replied. “None of them went to court. A lot of these say that the victims were attacked by a stranger… that he broke in through the back door. Hold on.”

“What?” Derek prompted her.

“There is one here. Terry Driver. She said that she was raped, and she identified her rapist as someone she knew - Daniel Matthews. But he was never arrested because his brother gave him an ability for the night of the incident.” Garcia explained.

“I bet that one was air-tight.” Rossi scoffed.

“What type of injuries did the victims have?” Hotch asked.

“Um… nothing major.” Penelope replied. Hotch frowned. “A black eye… a few scratches.” She hesitated. “Ligature marks… from being tied to their beds. God. That sounds like the most horrible night of your life, doesn’t it?”

Hotch shook his head, sweeping a tense hand over his face. “He doesn’t fit the profile.”

“Wait.” Reid swallowed thickly, staring at the photos of you that were sitting in the middle of the table.

Battered. Bruised. Broken.

“Some of the letters refer to him having an awakening. ‘An awakening in my soul. A bond through blood.’” He explained, naturally reciting the words from memory after having only read them once.

“She fought back hard.” He held up one of the photos - one of your arm, showing deep, bloody scratches. Defensive wounds. “She found back so hard - he must have liked it. It-”

“It gave him a taste for violence.” Prentiss finished off the thought, fear written all over her face. “She - she was the one who made him realize that he could use violence to replace sex completely. So he switched from rape to murder.” She came to the shocking realization aloud, her eyes flickering from the photo of you to all the photos scattered across the evidence board - all the victims he had practiced on in the wake of you.

“Oh - oh my god.” Penelope gasped, having heard all of this over the intercom. “He’s gonna kill her? He’s gonna kill Y/N?”

“Garcia, What can you get me on Matthews?” Hotch asked.

“Um, right - Daniel Matthews…” There was more clacking of keys, and then Penelope replied. “He grew up in Madison. Looks like he went to the same high school as Y/N. He used to play football. He has a juvenile record for… vandalism, underage drinking. The usual. Oh…”

“Oh?” JJ wondered aloud.

“He had a very brief stint in the FBI Academy. He was kicked out 2001 when he was accused of sexually harassing fellow female applicants, and he was flagged on the psych eval as having a possible narcissistic personality disorder.” Garcia explained.

“Bingo.” Rossi sighed. “That’s our UnSub.”

“Oh my god. The hiatus.” Morgan said, his eyes fixated on the evidence board now. “‘99 was the year he attacked Y/N, when he first got a taste for it… and then… he followed her to the Academy?”

“And he resumed the killings when he got kicked out.” Rossi picked up on the thought. “When he couldn’t be in close contact with her anymore… he couldn’t get a high off of retraumatizing her, reliving that night in his mind, he needed to relive it through the other victims.”

It all fit together now.

It was a horrible puzzle, but it all fit together around you.

“Reid, you said you might know where he took her?” Pretniss said, turning back to the very tired looking genius.

“Yes,” Reid shoved aside the file with the graphic photos of you, and went shuffling through the letters for something. When he found it, he handed it over to Prentiss. “A lot of the earliest dated letters make reference to ‘our special place’. Or-”

“-the bed I first made love to you in.” Prentiss read it off the page, clearly holding back vomit.

JJ grabbed up the file with the report about the break-in, shoving aside the photos, looking for an address. “It’s here. I’ve got it.”

“Okay, I want squad cars, tactical swat, I want spike strips on every road in or out of that place. I need everyone mobile in ten minutes.” Hotch ordered sharply, causing everyone to jump into action.

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Abandoned Country House - Madison, GA. 2:20AM.

It should have felt like a victory to hold a knife to the throat of your rapist - someone who had been taunting you for years after the incident.

But somehow, you still felt small. You still felt so chaotic and out of control.

Both your hands shook vigorously as you struggled with the warring inside of you, as you struggled with the weight of confronting your life’s biggest monster.

In the back of your mind, you were aware of the guns pointed at you. You would have liked to believe that because Emily was your friend - she wouldn’t shoot you.

Part of you thought it would be worth it. To kill this man and take a bullet in the process.

You just hoped that she would aim to wound and not to kill.

“Put the knife down!” Emily ordered, her voice sounding muffled in your ears as blood thumped hard through you. “Come on, put it down.”

“Reid-!”

You heard his name being called out, and you saw a figure moving from the corner of your eye, but all you could focus on was the blade in your hand. The sight of a thick, unmarked neck, ripe for the taking in front of you. The idea that all you had to do was press down and slice through flesh - and then, this would all be over.

No more torment. No more letters. No more taunting.

“Y/N,”

His soothing voice spoke your name, and you held a sob inside of your chest.

You had grown so much of a life beyond this. Beyond him. He had tried to ruin you, he had tried to keep you in some little cage in some shitty town, and you had outgrown him. You had friends. You had people who loved you.

But you still couldn’t escape him.

“You don’t have to do this.”

Your hand shook as you held the knife.

“I have to.” You replied, unable to hold back your sobs. You barely noticed the tears coming out of your eyes - barely able to identify why your vision was blurring, why your face was suddenly wet.

“You don’t have to.” Reid told you, his voice calming, gentle. “You - you can give me the knife, and then we can just… walk away. And then it all ends.”

“It won’t just end!” You screamed out, your voice a curtling weep that bounced off the walls.

If you let Daniel walk away from this, he would come for you again. He would.

Or he would keep killing other women in your place. And you couldn’t let that happen.

You couldn’t let your cowardice be the reason that so many women had died. You should have killed him the first time he had ever touched you. You should have been brave enough then.

“It can end.” Reid assured you calmly. “You just have to come with me. You just have to put the knife down and-”

It just sounded like noises in your ears at that point.

Spencer just didn’t understand.

“I have to make it stop!” You screamed, urgent to make him truly hear you. “I killed those women. I killed them!”

“Prentiss!” A voice called her name, but it was so distant in your ears.

“Just give him a minute!” Prentiss fired back.

“He killed them because of me!” You shouted, cutting him off. “We both know it’s my fault.”

“It’s not.” Reid choked out. “Please don’t say that.”

There was a gutting silence.

“Please, just give me the knife.”

You couldn’t give up.

You had come too far to let Daniel win now.

“It was my fault. I know what happened. If I had just been a good little girl… if I had just laid there and taken it… it’s all my fault.” You quietly wept, your arms still shaking - muscles ripe with hesitation as you struggled with your grip on the knife. “I have to be the one to make it stop.”

By violence it was done, and by violence it would be undone.

You could be brave enough this time. You could be the one to end it.

“No, no you don’t.” Reid told you. “You don’t have to do it alone. We can make it stop together. Just give me the knife. Please.”

You had been alone your whole life. What was one more thing?

Just press down. Something in your mind screamed. Slice his throat. End it.

“Please, just look at me.” Spencer begged, his voice growing more desperate. “Please.”

You didn’t look up at him.

You knew that you couldn’t.

If you took one look at those soft, pitying eyes, then the tiny bit of bravery you had gathered up would crack away.

“Y/N, please.” Spencer continued. “I know why you think you have to do this. I know that his face is the one that’s been in all your nightmares since that night. I - I know you were all alone then, on the night that happened. You must have felt so alone.”

You let out another sob at this.

You had been so alone.

“But you’re not alone now. You’re not alone now, okay?”

Spencer’s gentle voice delivering the words made them feel so true.

“We’re here with you now. I’m here with you. You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to fight by yourself anymore. You don’t have to be strong.”

You heard a crack in his voice for the first time - his own tears.

It wasn’t pity.

It was genuine sadness for you, as he thought about what had happened to you. What had happened in this very bedroom all those years ago.

“Spencer-” You choked out his name, and your body betrayed you.

You finally collapsed, your hand dropping the knife, and Spencer reached out and grabbed you as you fell, helping to move your shuddering form away from the unconscious, horrible man as the others finally moved in.

You heard more voices, more shouting - maybe Hotch giving orders.

But all you felt was Spencer’s arms around you, creating a shield as he rubbed your back and gently hushed you, letting you sob as loudly as you needed to, giving you a kind of comfort that you had never felt on that horrible night.

…

Thursday, August 16th, 2007. Madison Police Department, Interrogation Room #1 - Madison, GA. 3:39AM.

The chilled air of the interrogation room only made the regret of it all more palpable in your lungs.

Maybe Reid had saved you from yourself, or maybe he had caused you to make the biggest mistake of your life.

You should have killed Daniel.

Ten more minutes.

The hum of the fluorescents overhead made you feel like a bug about to be zapped - like your entire life was over and you would be resigned to a cage.

Daniel had been hauled away in an ambulance. He had been entirely unmoving. In ‘critical condition’. They would likely charge you with manslaughter if he didn’t recover - it wasn’t likely that he would. You had overheard Prentiss remark on the irony that he was an organ donor. Because you had beaten him so badly, but not killed him, it was likely that his comatose state would lead to his organs being donated, and saving more lives.

It could be viewed as a beautiful thing.

But you had to wonder if the poison he had in his veins was contagious. Should the heart of a killer really live on inside someone else’s body?

“Let’s start with this,” Reid asked you sharply. “Why?”

Truthfully, you couldn’t give him that answer. You didn’t think you would ever have enough time to conjure it up within yourself.

“You’re the genius profiler, Doctor Reid.” You fired back coldly. “You tell me.”

You let out another puff of your cigarette, and he frowned at you.

“No.” He said. “No more bullshit. No more games.”

You definitely were not used to this version of Reid.

You were surprised that it had taken you almost killing someone to bring out his cold side. But you supposed that everyone had a line. And you had crossed his.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had been raped?” He asked. “Why didn’t you tell us that the rapist lived in your hometown and was a viable suspect in all of this? Why didn’t you tell us that the letter you received the other morning was just one of many your rapist sent you over the years, stalking you, obsessing over you after-?”

“Why?” You said, your voice scraping against the word harshly as you tossed it back at him, cutting off his ranting.

He gave you an impatient expression as it hung in the air - eyes wide, pursing his lips.

It caused you to flare with anger.

You let the cigarette burn down to a hot cherry between your fingers, the harsh sting against your skin being the only thing keeping you from lunging across the table and strangling him.

You stubbed it out in the ashtray before you answered him.

“Why didn’t I want to suddenly announce to a group of my intellectual peers that I was raped?” You echoed back, more tears gathering in the corners of your eyes - you knew that you must have looked quite crazed, especially when Hotch stiffened, and Reid’s expression dropped. “You know, when I first came to the BAU, it was the only time in my life that I wasn’t viewed as a victim.”

“Y/N-” Spencer said your name in that gentle tone again, but you weren’t having it this time.

“My dad left us when I was only a year old. And everybody viewed my Mama as this fucking martyr because she raised me by herself. ‘Oh poor girl. She doesn’t have a daddy. Poor little girl, all alone. Her mama does such a good job.’” You said, ranting in a crazed tone. But the floodgates had opened, and you couldn’t stop it. “Nobody wanted to talk about how my Mama was off half the time, drinking at bars, out partying with friends. She got pregnant at sixteen and she didn't want to stop having a life. God forbid I get in the way of that. I took care of my damn self! I raised myself!”

You knew you were screaming, but you couldn’t stop it.

“L/N-” Hotch tried speaking to you in a firmer voice.

But you couldn’t stop.

“Daniel only broke into the house that night because he knew I would be alone.” Your voice warbled harshly on the word, and you hated it.

You hated the look that Reid and Hotch were giving you.

Pity.

That look you had been trying to avoid for so long.

“When I came here that night and made the police report, they all knew I was bullshiting. They knew that it wasn’t a fucking burglary.” You pressed on. “But none of them said anything! They didn’t care.”

There was a tense moment. You swallowed thickly around your own tears, holding back sobs once again.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Spencer tried again, seeming to be personally stuck on this point. “I asked you if something was wrong. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“That look in your eye.” You told him, entirely honest. “That look you have right now. I - I couldn’t stand the idea of you looking at me like that forever.”

“Daniel approached you in the parking lot of the corner store.” Hotch stated calmly. “Why did you go with him willingly? Did he have a gun on you?”

“He had a gun.” You told him. “He did have it pointed at me. But - I didn’t have mine. I didn’t like the odds.”

Hotch nodded at this.

“I didn’t want him to take another girl.” You added on. “I knew they were replacements. At that point, I realized what it was. I figured nobody else should have to die because of my mistake.”

“Mistake?” Spencer echoed back quietly.

“Not killing him the first time.” You said, knowing this was likely a bit too honest. “I should have killed him the first time he ever put his hands on me. I should have. I wanted him dead.”

Tears leaked hot from your eyes at this, and Spencer’s eyes grew glassy - he blinked back his own.

“You wanted him dead, but… did you want to kill him?” Hotch posed.

“I don’t know.”

...

“That is how heavy a secret can become. It can make blood flow easier than ink.”

-Patrick Rothfuss

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, meant to function as an episode of Criminal Minds, so please respect it as such. Please do not ask for a sequel or a continuation, because there will not be one. If you are going to comment about the work, please comment about the body of what has been written. I highly appreciate reblogs and comments if you enjoyed it, and if you want to see more of what I have written for Criminal Minds, definitely check out my Criminal Minds masterlist.

#sundrop writes #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfiction

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writingwithcolor · 5 months

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What Makes an Ethnic Villain "Ethnic" or "Villainous?" How Do You Offset it?

anonymous asked:

Hello WWC! I have a question about the antagonist of my story. She is (currently) Japanese, and I want to make sure I’m writing her in a way that doesn’t associates [sic] her being Asian with being villainous. The story is set in modern day USA, this character is effectively immortal. She was a samurai who lost loved ones due to failure in combat, and this becomes her character[sic] motivation (portrayed sympathetically to the audience). This story explores many different time periods and how women have shown valor throughout history. The age of the samurai (and the real and legendary female warriors from it) have interested me the most, which is why I want her to be from this period. The outfit she wears while fighting is based on samurai armor, and she wears modern and traditional Japanese fashion depending on the occasion. She acts pretty similar to modern day people, though more cynical and obsessed with her loss. She’s been able to adapt with the times but still highly values and cherishes her past. She is the only Asian main character, but I plan to make a supportive Japanese side character. She’s a history teacher who knows about the villain and gives the protagonists information to help them, but isn’t involved in the main plot otherwise. Are the way I’m writing this villain and the inclusion of a non-antagonist Japanese character enough to prevent a harmful reading of the story, or is there more I should do?

Why Does Your Villain Exist?

This makes me feel old because David Anders plays a villain with this kind of backstory in the series Heroes starring Masi Oka.

I think you want to think about what you mean when you say:

Villainous (In what way? To whom? To what end?)

Harmful (What tropes, narratives and implications are present?)

I’m relatively infamous in the mod circle for not caring too much about dimensions of “harm”. The concept is relative and varies widely between people and cultures. I don’t see much value in framing motivations around “What is less harmful?” I think for me, what matters more is:

“What is more true?”

“Are characteristics viewed as intrinsic to background, or the product of experiences and personal autonomy?”

“Will your portrayal resonate with a large audience?”

“What will resonate with the members of the audience who share the backgrounds your characters have?”

This post offers additional questions you could ask yourself instead of “is this okay/not okay/harmful.”

You could write a story where your antagonist is sly, sadistic, violent and cold-blooded. It may not be an interpretation that will make many Japanese from combat backgrounds feel seen or heard, but it’s not without precedent. These tropes have been weaponized against people of Japanese descent (Like Nikkei Japanese interned during World War II), but Japan also brutalized a good chunk of Asia during World War II. See Herge’s Tintin and The Blue Lotus for an example of a comic that accurately showcases the brutality of Japan’s colonization of Manchuria, but also is racist in terms of how Japanese characters are portrayed (CW: genocide, war, imperialism, racism).

You could also write a story where your character’s grief gives way to despair, and fuels their combat such that they are seen as calculating, frigid and deeply driven by revenge/ violence. This might make sense. It’s also been done to death for Japanese female warriors, though (See “Lady Snowblood” by Kazuo Koike and Kazuo Kamimura here, CW: sexual assault, violence, murder and a host of other dark things you’d expect in a revenge story).

You could further write a story where your antagonist is not necessarily villainous, but the perceived harm comes from fetishizing/ exoticizing elements in how her appearance is presented or how she is sexualized, which is a common problem for Japanese female characters.

My vote always goes to the most interesting story or character. I don’t see any benefit to writing from a defensive position. This is where I'll point out that, culturally, I can't picture a Japanese character viewing immortality as anything other than a curse. Many cultures in Japan are largely defined by transience and the understanding that many things naturally decay, die, and change form.

There are a lot of ways you could conceivably cause harm, but I’d rather hear about what the point of this character is given the dilemma of their position.

What is her purpose for the plot?

How is she designed to make the reader feel?

What literary devices are relevant to her portrayal?

(Arbitrarily, you can always add more than 1 extra Japanese character. I think you might put less pressure on yourself with this character’s portrayal if you have more Japanese characters to practice with in general.)

- Marika.

When Off-Setting: Aim for Average

Seconding the above with regards to this villainess’s story and your motivations for this character, but regardless of her story I think it’s also important to look specifically at how the Japanese teacher character provides contrast.

I agree with the choice to make her a regular person and not a superhero. Otherwise, your one Asian character is aggressively Asian-themed in a stereotypical Cool Japan way (particularly if her villain suit is samurai-themed & she wears wafu clothing every so often). Adding a chill person who happens to be Japanese and doesn’t have some kind of ninja or kitsune motif will be a breath of fresh air (well, more like a sigh of relief) for Japanese readers.

A note on characterization—while our standard advice for “offset” characters is to give your offset character the opposite of the personality trait you’re trying to balance, in this case you might want to avoid opposites. You have a villainess who is a cold, tough “don’t need no man” type. Making the teacher mild-mannered, helpful, and accomodating would balance out the villainess’s traits, but you’ll end up swinging to the other side of the pendulum towards the Submissive Asian stereotype depending on execution. If avoiding stereotypes is a concern, I suggest picking something outside of that spectrum of gentleness to violence and making her really boring or really weird or really nerdy or a jock gym teacher or…something. You’re the author.

Similarly, while the villainess is very traditionally Japanese in her motifs and backstory, don’t make the teacher go aggressively in either direction—give her a nice balance of modern vs. traditional, Japanese vs. Western sensibilities as far as her looks, dress, interests, values, etc. Because at the end of the day, that’s most modern Japanese people.

Sometimes, the most difficult representation of a character of color is making a character who is really average, typical, modern, and boring.

- Rina

#writeblr #Japanese #Japanese women #Villain #antagonist #tokenism #characterization #representation #stereotypes #immortality #superheroes #supervillains #asks

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allur1ngs · 6 months

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✮ bloody knuckles ✮

TW: angst to fluff!! i know the summary seems like pure angst but i swear its not! semi-graphic violence? , guns, kidnapping, bada and reader get into an argument, reader acts naively and a bit selfishly (but it’s okay, she’s young and makes up for it in the end), bada still having beef w your bodyguard, protective!bada, cold!bada (this time to you too…), violent & frusterated!bada, brief mentions of sexual activity (inc…toys, ass, boobs… sorry), use of the word unnie (about six or so times) brief mentions of drugs, a creepy woman, and a surprise character from the previous installment!

SUMMARY: breaking bada’s three rules for a night of partying backfires in ways you could’ve never imagined. now, you have to deal with the consequences of your lies

part iv. succumb (to me)

WC: 12.5k… get some popcorn y’all this is a long one

A/N: read this and this for more background on this au. i’m sure there are a ton of mistakes sprinkled throughout this fic so please ignore them, this took me so long to write and i just want to put it out on time… i promise i’ll edit it once i get the chance😭

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada or team bebe’s actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

On an inconspicuous Thursday night, when a heat wave had just hit Seoul, you lounged in your lavish bed—free from sheets—scrolling through social media.

Pictures of cute animals and food fill your feed, making you smile down at your screen. You are about to like a particularly cute picture of a cat when a notification banner stops you midway. Your eyes flicker to the top of the screen, finding a message from your best friend, Jae Hwang.

Clicking on the notification, you're transferred into your messages app, and Jae’s text fills your screen. “Unnie, I haven’t seen you in so long!! Please come to the party I’m throwing tomorrow so we can catch up and have some fun~!"

Your lips fall open in mild surprise as you instinctively sit up. A party? You text Jae back quickly, asking the reason for the party and where it will be held.

“At my house, of course! We’re all gathering to celebrate your engagement!”

Your engagement… so your parents really hadn’t wasted any time spreading the good news. You’d barely been living with Bada for a month, and they’d already informed your friends. You shake your head and sigh rather loudly. Bada would greatly disapprove of your parents' loose lips. She preferred her privacy, not only for protection but also because she liked people staying out of her business. That much you could tell from the little time you’d had to get to know her.

Shifting your focus back to Jae’s unanswered text, you contemplate attending the party or skipping out. Though they were technically throwing it in your honor, they should have let you know beforehand instead of asking you the night before the party. You felt well within your rights to refuse, but a nagging thought holds you back.

What would you do instead? Technically, you had no plans on Friday night—or Friday at all for that matter. Saturday neither… nor Sunday. Really, you never had plans anymore. Since staying with Bada, you mostly remained inside the Lee mansion, either lounging by the large infinity pool, taking a dip in your personal Jacuzzi, or perhaps enjoying a film in the theater room on the second floor.

Or, if you wanted to leave home, you would be escorted by your bodyguard to certain malls, grocery stores, or establishments. All of which were either managed by Bada or by one of her partners. She made it clear to you from the start that going places not protected by one of her subordinates would be dangerous.

"I have connections to half the establishments in Seoul," she had muttered to you. It's incredible that despite the implications of the words falling from her mouth, Bada had a way of saying things so humbly. She didn't sound like she was boasting—though you wouldn't fault her if she was. "I bet some of the markets you entered when you were a child were run by my family, and you'd never have known."

You’d try your best to conceal your amazement at her confession, but the glow in your eyes was as clear as day to Bada. “And what about the rest?”

She let out a quiet breath, saying, "The rest are mostly run by rival gangs. Almost no stores or establishments are free of mafia influence. Not anymore, at least." Seeing the way your eyes shifted from bright to slightly apprehensive, she pushed her chair back and rose, walking around her desk before leaning on it and clutching onto its edges. "There's no need to worry about them. As long as you stay in areas where my people are, you are safe." Her hand came down to rest politely on your thigh, patting it in a comforting manner.

Her words made your stomach flutter with butterflies, and a giddy smile instinctively formed on your lips. For someone who claimed to want to avoid fostering romantic affection between you both, Bada seemed to be doing the exact opposite.

Before you could lose yourself in the tenderness of the memory, you climb out of bed, having made your decision. Because you barely left home as it is, what harm is there in going to a party? A party organized in your honor, no less. It’s a rare occasion, and truthfully, you miss Jae and the rest of your girlfriends. You haven’t seen them in over a month and texted them sparingly during that time. To be fair, it was mostly your fault—you were much too focused on getting to know Bada and adjusting to your new way of life to strike up conversations with them.

You nod your head firmly as if the action will help build your confidence before you grab onto the handle of your bedroom door and slowly open it. Standing to your right, the figure of your bodyguard, Hyo Kim, immediately greets you on the other side. She turns to face you, her black-tinted sunglasses obstructing your view of her eagle eyes.

“What are you doing up so late?” She says lightheartedly.

“Do you know if Bada is still awake?” You ask. “I wanted to ask her something.”

Hyo lifts her arm up, pushing aside the fabric of her suit to reveal a golden watch. She gazes down at it, pretending to think long and hard. “The Boss should be awake for about…” she trails off playfully, “another four hours.”

You chuckle under your breath, “I didn’t even need to ask, did I?”

“Not at all.” Hyo shakes her head while smirking.

“Alright then,” you clasp your hands together tightly, “I’m going to go see Bada.”

Hyo gestures ahead of you with her hand. “I’ll follow your lead.”

You nod quickly before advancing forward, her trailing close behind. You can’t lie; it was strange to have someone following after you almost every second of the day in the beginning. You remember that at the beginning of your stay at Lee mansion, you kept forgetting that Hyo was following you—she has the tendency to be extremely quiet when focused—and were jump-scared by her multiple times. You’d round corners and suddenly hear one of her heavier footsteps behind you, making you jump and your heart practically leap out of your chest.

At some point, you swear she started doing it on purpose, enjoying the look of fear you gave her when you jumped. Eventually, though, you started to grow used to her constantly lingering presence and even grew comfortable around her. Somewhere along the way, you’d both gotten to know each other more, and a slow but harmonious friendship grew.

“So, what are you going to ask the Boss about?” Hyo’s low and blithe voice cuts through the silence.

“Oh,” you begin, “my friend asked me to meet her and some of my other friends tomorrow night.”

“Really?” Hyo comments, her voice dripping with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.

“Yes,” you affirm. “I wanted to ask Bada if it’s okay for me to visit her.”

Hyo hums under her breath in acknowledgment. “She’ll appreciate that.”

“I hope so.” You smile lightly to yourself. “I just thought that since you follow me wherever I go, she’d find out either way, and I might as well get her thoughts on it.”

“Not to crush your hopes and dreams, kid, but I doubt she’ll say yes.” Hyo remarks.

“Really?” You pause and turn around to face her, a frown forming on your lips.

“The Boss values your safety more than anything else,” Hyo shrugs. “Meeting people she isn’t familiar with puts you at risk.”

“But they’re my friends.” You push back lightly.

“I get that, but like I said, the Boss only cares about keeping you safe.” Hyo raises her hands up in defeat.

You deflate at her words, acknowledging that she’s most likely right. After all the events that’d taken place in the span of a single month, you honestly wouldn’t hold it against Bada to be cautious of where you go. But at the same time, you can’t help but feel mild resentment at the fact that you aren’t even allowed to see your friends.

“Hey,” Hyo frowns at you like a scolding sister. “Don’t be discouraged. You haven’t even asked her yet. You never know; she just might say yes.”

You pick your head up at her words, slowly but surely nodding back. “Yeah, you’re right.” And with that, you continue walking down the corridor to Bada’s office until you reach the dark mahogany wood of her door. Lightly rapping on it, there’s a period of silence before you hear the low tenor of her voice speak up.

“Lusher, if you’re coming to ask me if I’ve finished the paperwork for POSCO’s deal, for the millionth time the answer is no, I haven’t.” Bada’s disgruntled voice makes you laugh to yourself, and you immediately bring your hand up to cover your mouth as you grin widely.

“Is now a bad time to see you, then?” You answer back cheekily.

You receive no response for a solid minute before the sound of papers rustling loudly and approaching footsteps reaches your ears. The door to Bada’s office opens, and there she stands in all her glory, looking rather flustered. “Sorry. I thought you were Lusher.”

You smile at Bada while shaking your head. “It’s alright. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” She steps aside, making room for you to walk into her office while she holds the door open for you. You say a quick thank you as pass through the threshold, missing how Bada lets the door swing closed behind her and shuts out Hyo. “So, is there a reason why you’re visiting me? It’s very late into the night; I expected you to be asleep already.”

“Well, I was about to go to sleep, but I got a text from Jae—” you pause upon seeing her frown. “my best friend.”

Bada nods in acknowledgment, moving toward a chair and pushing it back, gesturing for you to sit down. You do so, trying to ignore the nervous tension building in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, she invited—” you pause, choosing your next words carefully. Phrasing Jae’s invitation as a party would most likely mean Bada wouldn't let you go. So, if you just tweaked your wording a bit to make the party seem less extreme… it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? “she invited me to a get-together between friends.”

“A get-together?” Bada questions, folding her hands across her lap as she leans on the edge of her office table. “For what purpose?”

“Just to catch up and… celebrate our engagement.” You gesture between you both, immediately noticing how Bada’s expression shifts, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“They know of our engagement?” She asks.

“Yes,” you sigh. “I guess my parents couldn’t keep their excitement in check.”

“Your parents.” Bada shakes her head, pinching her nose-bridge tiredly. “I’ll have to have a word with them about that.”

“Please do.” You nod rapidly. “But aside from that, what I wanted to ask you was if I could be escorted to the get-together tomorrow night?”

Bada moves her gaze from the floor to your eyes, removes her hand from her face, and gives you a hesitant expression. “I don’t know… after all the incidents recently…” she trails off, a faraway look finding her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to feel like you’re a prisoner in your own home, or that you can’t see your friends, I just want you to be safe.”

“I get that, I really do, Bada, but this is just a small get-together.” You lie between your teeth.

Bada stays quiet, looking to be considering your words. “And you trust your friends, right?”

“I do.”

Bada lets out a light breath, while a small smile finds her lips. “All right then, you can go.”

“Really?” You give her a shocked look before you snap out of it and practically squeal, jumping up from your chair and instinctively wrapping your arms around Bada’s shoulders in a hug. “Thank you so much!”

Bada freezes in her spot, surprised by your affection. Slowly, a warm, sappy feeling builds at the bottom of her stomach, and her hands, which had been propped up in the air stiffly, gently come down to rest against your back, patting it tenderly. “You’re welcome.” She tries not to think about how lovely you feel against her or the allure of your natural scent.

You spend all Friday preparing for the party, choosing your makeup beforehand, your jewelry, shoes, and of course, your dress—a beautiful wine-red ensemble that you’d picked up on your shopping trip with Bada. She’d chosen it for you—claiming, “This dress would look beautiful on you.” The meaning behind her words, that it wasn’t the dress that was beautiful, but instead your figure that would make it look divine, had struck you in that moment.

If Bada wanted you to wear the dress, you’d buy it in a heartbeat.

For the little hours left you have in the day, you try not to get too giddy thinking of the party or how magnificent you’ll look in the dress, instead trying to busy yourself by catching up on one of your favorite TV shows. But when the milky raven sky begins to take over the horizon, you jump off of the couch, rushing to your room, leaving Hyo to scramble after you.

In your bedroom, you sit down at your antique-styled vanity, your makeup laid out in front of you. You begin prepping your skin before beginning your usual routine. It takes you a slightly longer time for you to finish because you’re being incredibly meticulous, but by the end of it, you look amazing. Before you can get distracted, you quickly dress yourself.

As your fingers curl around the clasp of your teardrop diamond earrings and secure them in place, you take a step back to gaze at yourself in your floor-length mirror.

The win-red dress hugs your body, accentuating every favorable feature of it. A similar dark rouge to your dress is blended across your eyelids in a smoky eye, making the color of your eyes pop in contrast. Your lips, fixed into a slight pout, are glossy and soft, tinted with a color of your choice. Taking your look all together, all you can say is that Bada was right—the dress does look beautiful on you.

A knock on your bedroom door startles you, your hand instinctively flying to your chest. "Hello?" You respond, a bit on edge.

"It's me. Can I come in?" Bada's voice, muffled behind the door, reaches you.

"Yes," you reply, hastily adjusting your dress and double-checking your appearance.

Bada enters just as your hands fall to your sides, her gaze immediately scanning your figure. She appraises you, from collarbones to legs, before fixing her eyes on your chest for a lingering moment.

Suppressing a nervous giggle, you greet her, "Hi, Bada."

Her eyes quickly snap up to meet yours, a sheepish cough escaping her mouth. "Hello."

Standing awkwardly by the door, Bada stares at you for a solid minute before you give a lighthearted smile. "Is there something you needed?"

"Uhh, no. Well, actually..." Bada stumbles over her words, closing her eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, yes. I wanted to see you before you left."

You release a small breath of understanding before a cheeky thought crosses your mind. Walking closer to Bada, you do a little twirl when you reach her. "So, what do you think?"

Bada exhales while chuckling, her nervousness leaving her. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes upon."

Out of shock, you remain still, surprised by how unabashedly Bada expressed her thoughts. You expected a simple compliment, but she exceeded your expectations. "Really?" You ask quietly, sensing a shift in the room's atmosphere. An air of intimacy and something more sensual makes your skin prickle and breath hitch.

"Of course. There's no one I could think of that could make that dress look so stunning." Bada looks back at you with a serious and genuine expression.

"Bada..." you trail off, immediately thinking of countless other women who could wear the dress better. Supermodels, actresses—

"I think there's just one simple thing that would finish off the look." Bada's voice brings you back, and you give her a questioning stare. She smiles, her hand digging into her pocket before presenting you a sleek black box. Your confusion deepens as she opens it, revealing the most elegant necklace you've ever seen. Matching teardrop diamonds, akin to those on your earrings circle the chain, glittering against the low bedroom light. At the center, a silver locket shaped like a dainty heart ties it all together.

You stare at the necklace in awe, alternating between Bada's eyes and the exquisite piece of jewelry. "Bada, it's beautiful."

She watches you marvel at it, sparkles dancing in your eyes. Giving you a fond look, she nudges the box closer. "Take it."

Hesitating for a brief second, you gently retrieve the necklace. "Wow," you breathe out, fully admiring its beauty now that it’s free from the box.

"You should put it on," Bada encourages you softly.

“Oh, I shouldn’t—” you protest.

“I insist,” she cuts you off, tucking the box back into her pocket. She steps forward, taking the necklace from your hands and moving behind you. “Here, let me.” She places it across your collarbones and brings the clasp together, her long fingers brushing across your skin.

Her touch ignites a spark, but as quickly as it appeared, her fingers are gone. She steps back, placing her hands on your waist to move you back so that you’re facing your mirror again. But this time, Bada's at your side, admiring how exquisite you look.

“Absolutely perfect,” she whispers into your ear.

The warmth from her touch lingers as you stare at Bada through the mirror. “Thank you.” You bask in the comfortable silence in the room for a moment before speaking up again. “Can I ask, did you buy this?”

Bada places her hands atop your shoulders, a soft, wistful look finding her irises. “It was my mother’s.”

Immediately, you whip around to face her, your mouth wide open in mortification, and your eyes the size of saucers. “Bada, why didn’t you tell me?” Your hands frantically try to find the clasp of the necklace, wanting to take it off. “Here—”

“No.” Bada’s hands find yours, holding them and stopping you from removing the jewelry. “Don’t take it off.”

“But Bada, this was your mom’s—”

“And I want you to have it,” Bada states firmly.

“I can’t—”

“Are you rejecting my gift?” Although her words sound accusatory, when you look into her eyes, there’s a glint of amusement in them.

You let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.”

Bada smirks proudly, removing her hands from yours. “Good.”

After bidding farewell to Bada, Hyo swiftly whisks you away to a black Jeep, one that, according to her, is "much more secure than a sports car." Seated in the front, she drives and engages in casual conversation while you relax in the back. You take the opportunity to share stories about each of your best friends—Jae, the liveliest, Da-Eun, the second oldest, Min-Ji, the oldest, and Ryung, the youngest and most timid. Hyo listens attentively, interjecting with comments or laughter at your anecdotes.

“You all seem to be very close,” she remarks, steering the wheel to the left.

“Yeah, we are. We’ve known each other since childhood, and our parents are all friends,” you reply.

“Those types of friends… you should hold onto them,” Hyo advises. “In this line of business, it’s hard to find someone you can trust as much as you four trust each other.”

You gaze at your bodygaurd through the rear-view mirror, sensing the weight behind her words. "Hyo?" You inquire.

"Yeah?"

"Does Bada find it hard to trust other people?"

Her lips tighten, an audible exhale leaving her nose. "She hasn't fully placed her trust in anyone since the day Mrs. Lee died."

A somber atmosphere envelops the car, akin to a bucket of ice-cold water. You shift in your seat uncomfortably, your heart aching at the thought of the pain Bada must have endured when her mother was killed. "Bada was still young when she passed, wasn’t she?"

"Fifteen," Hyo nods. "Barely beginning her climb towards adulthood."

A stark silence follows after, and the rest of the car ride is silent, filled only with the quiet hum of the Jeep’s engine and the sounds of passersby. It's not uncomfortable, but rather solemn, as if you and Hyo are silently mourning Mrs. Lee's memory.

Fifteen minutes later, Hyo's driving slows as she turns into a large house—though noticeably smaller than your shared one with Bada, of course. The GPS on the tablet beeps, signaling your arrival at the destination. "We’re here," her voice rings through the background noise.

You turn away from the window you’d been gazing out of, a smile forming on your lips at the sight of Jae’s house. Out of your group, Jae always had the most luxurious home, because though all of you came from affluent families, Jae's parents were the wealthiest. Well, it seemed like now the dynamic had changed. Once you and Bada are officially wed, your combined wealth will likely rival all of theirs combined.

"How long do you think you’ll be staying?" Hyo asks.

"I'd like to say it won't take that long, but knowing my friends, I might be here all night," you admit.

"Alright." Hyo parks the Jeep in the driveway, exits, then moves to open your door. You offer a quiet thank you as she helps you step out, mindful of the relatively short length of your dress.

Leading the way to Jae's house, you pause before knocking. Judging by the time, it seems you arrived slightly early, which in party terms means very early. Fortunately, that likely means no other partygoers are here yet, as evidenced by the absence of parked cars in the driveway.

"Actually, Hyo?" you turn back to face her, a sheepish look on your face. "Could you maybe… wait outside?"

Your bodyguard raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you."

"I know that, but I think the girls will be thrown off by the fact that you’ll just be standing there… watching us the entire night." Though your reasoning is somewhat woven with lies, it's also partly true.

Hyo remains silent, giving you an unimpressed look. "I have a job to do."

"Technically, you can do it from out here," you weakly argue. "Please, I want to feel like a normal person again. Like my life isn’t constantly at risk, and I always need to be monitored."

Although you can’t see the look Hyo’s giving you behind her sunglasses, you notice her posture deflating, and her shoulders falling. She releases a defeatist breath, "Fine, I’ll keep an eye out from here."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You express with a grateful smile.

"Yeah, yeah, never say I haven’t done anything for you," Hyo grumbles. "Oh, and don’t forget I have your location on my phone, so don’t even think about sneaking out because I’ll know."

"I wouldn’t dare," you joke.

"Right…" your bodyguard trails off. "I’ll be waiting in the car. If you need anything, just call or text me, and I’ll be out in an instant."

"Yup, thanks!" You give Hyo a thumbs up, and with that, she retreats back to the Jeep. You watch her go, a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you.

She'd probably be much more comfortable in Jae’s house, sitting down or enjoying the air conditioning, rather than waiting for countless hours in the Jeep while you gossip and talk to your friends. But you're in too deep now. You can’t tell her the truth or let her in, or she’ll whisk you away back to the mansion, and all your white lies will have been for naught.

Biting your lip, you cast one last look at Hyo before knocking on the front door. Silence greets you for a few minutes before you hear shuffling approach the door, and it opens. Jae’s face greets you on the other side, her eyes immediately sparkling at the sight of you.

"Oh my god!" She squeals, bringing you into a hug and squeezing you tight. "I’m so glad you’re here!" She rocks back and forth in the hug, making you laugh giddily. "I missed you so much!" When she pulls back, she’s wearing a pout across her red-tinted lips. "Don’t ghost me for a month again, okay? Or I’ll steal you away from your wife!"

"I missed you too," you say fondly. "But we’re not married yet—"

"Oh, come on, you’re engaged to Bada Lee! You’re married in every sense except legally." Jae rolls her eyes playfully, though they stray a bit before landing on something—or rather, someone—behind you. "Who’s that?" She points at the Jeep, where Hyo is sitting in the front seat, trying not to look like she's watching you.

"That’s Hyo Kim, my bodyguard."

"Your bodyguard?" Jae awes before pouting. "Why am I even surprised? Of course, Bada Lee would have her fiancée under lock and key." Jae grabs your hand, giving it a light squeeze before her expression shifts, a sly smile curving her lips. "So tell me, have you two done it yet? Is she dominant? Is she more of a boobs girl or an ass girl—"

"Jae!" You shout, eyes wide and voice full of mortification. "Are you serious right now?"

"Come on, tell me! I want to know all the stuff you haven’t told me over the past month. You owe it to me!" She whines.

You let out a long sigh. You suppose this is your karma for unintentionally ignoring your best friend for so long. "At least invite me in first, Jae. Don’t you have any manners?" You lightly scold her.

"Oh, right." She looks behind her, realizing that while she’s inside her home, you’re still outside the threshold, waiting for her to invite you in. She looks like she’s about to take a step back so you can enter before she pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Wait, does she use toys—"

"Alright, that’s enough!" You push Jae further into her house and step inside, swinging the door shut rather loudly behind you.

Once inside, you scold her for a solid five minutes straight about manners before the two of you properly greet each other and begin a normal, casual conversation—thankfully with no mention of your and Bada’s sexual activity, or lack thereof. Instead, you're practically interrogated by Jae about every aspect of your life with Bada while you help her finish setting up for the party.

You stack up red solo cups, place beers into multiple coolers, and set out chasers. Thankfully, it doesn’t take much for the two of you to finish, and once you do, you simply lounge around a bit. Jae takes the break as an opportunity to compliment how amazing you look in your dress.

"Is that Chanel?" She asks, motioning for you to do a spin.

"Yes." You nod, doing as she wishes. "Bada picked it out for me."

"I bet she’s regretting her decision right now." Your friend giggles. "No one’s going to be able to resist you tonight!"

"Jae, stop exaggerating." You laugh.

Your lighthearted conversation continues until slowly but surely, party guests begin to arrive. They come in small waves, all dressed much more elegantly than the average partygoer. You assume they must be some of Jae’s rich friends that you’ve heard about only in passing because you don’t recognize some of them. The thought sends a small prickle of worry to the back of your mind, but you choose to ignore it for now. Instead, you greet each guest kindly, albeit rather awkwardly.

As the dark sky deepens in color, the living room starts to get more and more crowded, the rest of your friends arriving along with other guests. Min-Ji gets there first, wearing a classy black cocktail dress. She greets you with the same enthusiasm as Jae, but her demeanor is slightly more controlled, her older age shining through.

Next, Da-Eun arrives, dressed in green, and lastly, Ryung. By the time she settles in, the party is in full swing, music leaking out of speakers, and beers being passed around. You’re fully immersed in the atmosphere, happy to be surrounded by your girls and other somewhat familiar faces. You can’t lie, partying with your friends really puts into perspective the loneliness you hid behind your home’s mansion walls.

But in contrast to your free spirit, Hyo is struggling. Multiple cars have begun to pull into the driveway, groups of people entering the house and giving her a peek inside. The home has many more people than it should for a "small gathering."

Her first instinct was to exit the Jeep and head toward the door to end your night prematurely, as well as tell you off for not only lying to her but also to Bada. However, through one of the windows, your silhouette peaks through, the light in the living room shining against your features and displaying your expression of pure joy as you dance with your friends and sip beer.

She stops mid-stride, conflict brewing in the confines of her mind. Deep down, she knows you deserve to enjoy yourself. Being stuck in a mansion—while large and full of entertainment—is nothing compared to the comfort of being with friends, partying, and drinking. “Fuck.” Hyo mutters under her breath, passing a hand through her hair in frustration. She takes another look at your smiling figure through the window, then turns back. “The Boss is going to kill me if she finds out about this.”

She stays back in the Jeep for another hour or so, listening to the music coming from inside the house and the loud chatter, keeping an eye out while checking her phone every other minute. Your location never moves, thankfully. It seems that you have the foresight not to take it as far as sneaking away from her for some fun.

But, of course, there’s no need for you to do so because the party is practically buzzing with energy. Couples and friends dance together, grinding and touching each other playfully, while some are playing cup pong or various other party games in corners of the room. You, on the other hand, have moved away from dancing, instead cooling off with another beer as your friends chatter amongst each other.

“You’ll never guess what happens next!” Jae grabs onto Min-Ji, tugging on her hands with poorly concealed excitement.

“What?” Min-Ji indulges her younger friend.

“Bada stops him right before he leaves the store just by saying, ‘And where do you think you're going?’” Jae lowers her voice and puts on a serious expression when imitating your fiancée.

“Really?” Min-Ji's eyes find your figure, a small smile curving her lips upward.

You smile back at her shyly, nodding.

“And then, she makes the asshole pick up her clothes from the ground!” Jae divulges.

“Does he do it?” Da-Eun cuts in, smirking widely.

“Of course he does! Like a little worm, he picks up all the clothes and gives them to her.” Jae points at you, letting go of Min-Ji’s hands.

“Bada must have a very strong presence,” Ryung comments quietly.

“More like everyone in the store was on Bada’s payroll,” Jae snorts. “Right Unnie, didn’t you say Bada has ties to half the population of Seoul?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “I think everyone in that store had guns on them.”

“How do you know?” Min-Ji asks.

“Well, they were all putting their hands in their pockets like they were going to pull out a firearm,” you reminisce. “And they were all staring between the man and Bada like they were waiting for her word to dispose of him.”

“It’s so crazy hearing about it.” Jae whines. “I wish I was there!”

“Don’t say that.” Min-Ji scolds her. “It must have been scary at the time, wasn’t it?” She looks back at you, posing the question.

“I wasn’t really scared for myself.” You shake your head. “I was more scared for the man. You should have seen the way Bada was looking at him.”

“I can imagine it now.” Jae tries to imitate a hardened and scary glare but ends up failing.

“You just look like you’re constipated.” Da-Eun laughs loudly, pointing at a now offended Jae. The younger girl hits Da-Eun, whining about how she was really trying to look serious.

You join in laughing with Da-Eun and Min-Ji at Jae, when you suddenly feel a tug on your right hand. Your laughter dies down as you turn to face Ryung, who’s looking between you and another corner of the room. You give her a confused look, trying to find what she’s gazing at. “Ryung? Is something wrong?”

“A woman's been staring at you since she got here.” Ryung whispers, casting her eyes to the other corner of the room.

You follow her line of sight to an unfamiliar, relatively attractive woman dressed in a loose white dress shirt and slacks. She has fiery red hair and a boyish look. She’s already watching you, her eyes unabashedly trailing up and down your figure, completely unbothered by the fact that you caught her staring. In fact, she smirks back at you.

You turn away from her quickly, a prickle of anxiety running up your spine. Though most would be excited at being ogled by an attractive woman, there’s something about her gaze that unnerves you. It's like she knows something you don’t.

“Do you know her?” Ryung asks, a worried look crossing her features.

“No.” You shake your head, a trembling breath leaving your lips. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

Da-Eun, Min-Ji, and Jae stop laughing at the sound of your nervous voice, turning to face you with questioning looks.

“What’s going on?” Min-Ji asks, noticing your rigid posture and Ryung’s grim expression.

Jae mutters your name, her voice becoming uncharacteristically quiet.

“There’s this woman that’s been staring at Unnie the entire night.” Ryung secretly motions towards you, then looks back at the woman with red hair. All of your friends' eyes follow, seeing how the woman gazes at you darkly; even with all their eyes on her, she doesn’t cower. Instead, she continues to watch you.

“Alright.” Da-Eun rubs her hands together, her expression dripping with anger. “Let me go have a word with her—”

“Not so fast.” Min-Ji grabs onto Da-Eun’s arm, pulling her back and keeping her from advancing toward the woman. “Jae, do you know her?”

Jae bites her lip, shaking her head. “I don’t remember inviting anyone that looks like that.”

“Then let me—” Da-Eun tries to wiggle out of Min-Ji’s hold but is unsuccessful.

“Don’t be so rash.” Min-Ji asserts. “Let’s just ignore her. If she decides to bother you directly, we’ll be here, okay?” She looks back at you with a caring expression, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Okay.” You agree shakily, turning your back toward the woman’s direction.

For the rest of the night, you constantly feel her eyes on you. Though you try to act normal, a spike of fear runs up your body when you see someone approach you or accidentally brush up against you while you dance with your friends. You consider asking Hyo to come get you, but you don’t want to sour the mood of your friends. So you deal with her predatory gaze, and do your best to ignore her overwhelming presence.

Hyo’s eyes scan the neighborhood leisurely when a notification banner pops up at the top of her screen. Her eyes snap toward it, finding a text message from none other than her boss light up the screen. She takes in a deep breath as she presses it, her screen being moved to the message app.

Bada’s text reads, “How’s it going?”

Hyo lets out a sigh of relief, quickly texting back, “Good, she’s having fun.” She watches Bada’s text bubble show up soon after indicating she was writing, but it disappears a few seconds later. Hyo takes the opportunity to add, “Her friends are very lively.”

Bada’s text bubble appears again, but this time she sends a message saying, “Focus on doing your job.” Hyo huffs under her breath, exiting out of the messaging app and switching back to managing your location.

Her brief distraction keeps her from noticing a new group of men heading toward the house. Most slip in, it’s only until the last is about to cross inside that Hyo looks up, her eyes catching a baggy of white powder one of the men is carrying.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She hisses. Immediately she exits the car, dialing Bada’s personal phone as she races up the driveway and slips into the house behind the man.

Inside, you’re slowly becoming more and more unnerved by the red-haired woman. Your friends try to take you around the living room, using the other partygoer’s bodies as a shield between you two, but she doesn’t allow them to. She moves through the crowd until she has a clear view of you again, then just stands there, her gaze unwavering.

“She really doesn’t give up, huh?” Min-Ji curses under her breath.

“What a creep,” Da-Eun adds.

“Are you okay?” Ryung asks you.

“I don’t know.” You admit, rubbing your arm uncomfortably.

“Hold on,” Jae cuts in. “I think she’s coming this way.”

Four pairs of eyes snap in the direction Jae is looking, finding the woman weaving through the crowd of partygoers in an attempt to reach you.

This time your entire body goes rigid, intense fear running through your veins as your friends rally around you, muttering comforting words. Their voices and the loud bass of the music in the background fade away, all you’re able to focus on is the woman with red hair only a few feet away from you now.

She’s just about to reach you when a firm grip grabs onto your arm, pulling you away from your friends. You jump at the person’s touch, instinctively trying to recoil away before you turn to see a familiar face.

“Hyo.” You breathe out in relief.

“We’re leaving right now.” She says firmly, pulling you through the crowd of people.

“Hey!” Da-Eun surges forward at the sight of Hyo taking you away. “Who are you–?”

“No, it’s okay, that’s her bodyguard,” Jae informs your friends.

Your friends share resounding noises of astoundment before Hyo starts to firmly push you toward the exit. You say a hurried goodbye to them, catching out of the corner of your eye the red-haired woman. She’s now wearing a frown as she quickly retreats into the crowd of dancing bodies, hiding away from your gaze, as well as Hyo’s.

The entirety of the drive back home is dead silent, but this time it’s not comfortable. Hyo’s lips are set into thin and firm lines, her expression unchanging as she switches lanes and drives through the jet-black night. You try to will your voice to work and make idle conversation, but the words get stuck in your throat, a deep feeling of regret pooling at the depths of your stomach.

The car ride back unfortunately felt much shorter than the ride to Jae’s house had. One minute you're just barely pulling out of her driveway, and the next you're passing the gates into your mansion's driveway.

Hyo parks the car, exiting quickly and opening the door for you like she always does. You still say thank you, but this time she doesn’t acknowledge it, she simply lets you take the lead as you begin the walk of shame into your home.

Walking through the front door, the first floor is eerily quiet, missing the sounds of Bebe walking around or talking amongst themselves. You hesitate before walking up the right spiral staircase to the second floor, then move to your right toward the direction of your bedroom.

“We’re going this way.” Hyo breaks her silence, motioning with her thumb behind her, toward the corridor that leads to Bada’s office. You gulp but say nothing in response, instead choosing to listen to her and head toward your fiancée.

The sound of both your and Hyo’s footsteps echoing against the cold marble floor causes even more unease in your mind, the feeling all but tripling when you see a dark mahogany door come into view. You stop right in front of it, your legs starting to feel weak and your hands sweating. You try to build up your courage to knock on the door, but Hyo’s already a step ahead of you.

She doesn’t bother to knock, she simply grabs ahold of the door handle and pushes it open. She gestures for you to head inside which you do timidly, the door closing right behind you.

Inside the office, your eyes immediately find Bada’s figure. She’s sitting in her chair like she always is, looking incredibly tired. And instead of wearing a soft expression at the sight of you, her face is blank, not a single wisp of emotion to be seen.

“Sit down.” Her voice cuts through the tension in the air.

You do as she says, noting that she doesn’t get up to pull your chair back for you like she normally does. “Bada,” you begin, voice quiet and full of remorse.

“I heard you had fun tonight.” She cuts you off, her tone harsh. “A party, was it?”

You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry–”

“Are you?” She interrupts you again. “Truthfully, are you?”

“Yes.” You say frantically, trying to convince her. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“You had multiple opportunities to tell me the truth.” Bada asserts, her hands coming in front of her to clasp together tightly. “The night before when I asked you about your so-called ‘get-together.’" She lists, "You could have told me anytime today, or Hyo when she was driving you. Instead, you unabashedly lied to my face and deceived me.”

You swear the wind is knocked out of your chest at her words. Her dark brown, almost grey eyes are cutting into yours, wounding your heart as you will something, anything out of your mute vocal cords. “Please believe me.”

“I can’t.” Bada shakes her head. “All I asked of you was three things.” Much like she had when you first arrived at the Lee mansion, she holds up three corresponding fingers. “Tell me the truth, remain loyal, and never put yourself in unnecessary danger.” She places all three fingers down. “Somehow you managed to disobey all of them in the span of a single night.”

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, and heaving breaths start to build in your windpipe. You can deal with Bada being upset with you, but there’s something about her calm disappointment that hurts you more than you could have ever imagined.

“What would have happened if someone at that party brought a gun, hm? What if they knew who you are to me? What if they wanted to hurt me by hurting you?” Her voice slowly rises in volume but never reaches a full yell. “More than anything, you put yourself in danger. All for the sake of a good time.”

You hang your head in shame, acknowledging that she’s right.

“I can’t trust you anymore.” She states plainly.

Your head snaps up from its hunched position, your eyes widening at the implication of her words. “What? Bada, what does that mean?”

Your fiancée remains quiet for a moment, her blank look doing nothing to soothe your heightening fear. Then, she speaks up. “It’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Go to sleep?” You cry. “Bada–”

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She tears her eyes away from yours, staring to her right. “I can’t look at you right now.”

Her words are the final blow to your breaking heart. You stand up from your chair loudly, attempting to hide your devastated expression as tears fall from your eyes in steady streams. You race over to the door, pull it open, and run out of the office, accidentally bumping into Hyo on your way out. You don’t say anything to her, simply wanting to get as far away as possible.

Lusher, who’d been rounding the corner about to head into Bada’s office catches sight of your teary eyes and sighs. She makes eye contact with Hyo, sharing a knowing look with her before entering the office.

“I’m not in the mood, Lusher,” Bada mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Don’t you think you were a little too hard on her?” Lusher contends.

“She put her life at risk,” Bada states firmly.

“She went to a party, so what? She’s at the age where she’s supposed to be having fun with her friends, clubbing and drinking.”

“She lied to me,” Bada argues.

“Listen, I know that–” before Lusher can finish her sentence, the door to Bada’s office opens again, this time much more violently. Hyo stands in the doorway, a worried look encompassing her features.

“What now?” Bada snaps at her.

“Boss,” Hyo huffs. “the keys to the Jeep are gone.”

“What?” Bada stands up with urgency, her blank expression morphing into nothing but unrivaled anger. “Where did you put them?”

“I had them in my pocket–” Hyo freezes, a look of realization glinting in her eyes before she stops and runs a hand down her face in frustration. “Your fiancée pickpocketed me.”

“She pickpocketed you?” Lusher says incredulously. “So she just left? But it’s dangerous to be out this late, and in that dress–”

“Lusher, gather all of Bebe.” Bada interrupts her, voice loud and commanding. “You,” she points at Hyo. “find her. Now.”

“Yes, boss.” Lusher and Hyo say in unison, scrambling to do what their superior asked of them.

Meanwhile, Bada remains standing behind her desk, a mix of fear and unadulterated anger building in her. She feels immediate regret for the way she’d treated and spoken to you. She never should have let you leave in such a vulnerable, and most likely intoxicated state.

She could never forgive herself if something happened to you because of your argument. She slams her hands down on her desk, almost breaking it with the amount of force she uses.

Bada storms out of her office, heading down the corridor toward her bedroom, pushing the door open before heading toward her bedside table. She opens the first drawer, revealing a black pistol. She grabs it, about to exit her bedroom when her eyes catch the portrait of her mother hanging just above her bedside table. She takes a moment to face it, her face morphing into a grim expression.

“I won’t fail you, mother.”

Lusher, Tatter, Kyma, Minah, Chehe, and Soweon, otherwise known as Bebe are all gathered in the armory room, guns in their hands. Lusher dons a sniper, Tatter a pump shotgun, Kyma a handgun, Minah a rifle, Cheche a break action, and Soweon a pistol.

“She managed to pickpocket Hyo?” Soweon exclaims, loading her pistol with bullets. “How is that possible?”

“She must not be as innocent as we thought.” Cheche comments. “Out of all of us, Hyo is the most alert and aware of her surroundings. She has some skill.”

“Enough talking.” Lusher cuts in, clicking a magazine into her sniper. “We’re wasting time. Boss wants us to find her as soon as possible.”

Bebe falls into line, following their second-in-command to the first level of the Lee mansion where Hyo is, tapping her foot against the marbled floor impatiently.

“Do you know where she is?” Bada’s booming voice causes all her subordinates to freeze. It’s brimming with urgency, and full of poison.

Hyo looks up at where her boss is standing at the top of the spiral staircase, her aura demonstrating absolute authority. “I think she’s lost her phone.”

“What do you mean?” Tatter speaks up.

“The location stopped moving right in front of her friend, Jae’s house. But it’s not inside, it’s farther down the road.”

The room becomes astoundingly quiet, so silent you could most certainly hear a pin drop. Although no one has the heart to say it, they all know the truth. You’ve been taken.

But then, Bada’s heavy footsteps begin descending the stairs, her eyes alit with a fiery passion and her eyes fixed into a firm glare.

“We’re finding my fiancée.” She demands. “And if she’s not home by the end of the night, it’ll be your head on a pike.” She points at Hyo, her pistol held firmly in her other hand.

“Yes, Boss,” Hyo says fearlessly. Truthfully, she felt partially at fault for what had happened. If she had only brought you home the second she realized you were throwing a party, or if she paid more attention when you bumped into her, you would be here, safe.

Before they can all head out, Bada’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She stops, pulling it out and observing the caller ID. Her eyes widen when she sees it, immediately pressing the answer button and holding the phone up to her ear. She mutters your name into the speaker, causing all of Bebe to freeze and look at her in shock.

“Where are you?” Bada says, voice soft and full of worry.

“Hello?” A voice that is most certainly not yours greets her ears.

Bada’s expression shifts immediately, her eyes narrowing to slits and her voice dropping. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Are you Bada Lee?” The voice says hurriedly.

“Yes. How did you get this phone? Where is my fiancée?” Bada demands.

“This is Jae, Unnie’s best friend.”

“Jae?” Bada says, her tone calming the slightest bit. “Where is she?”

“Bada, you need to come here quick.” She cries. “Unnie called me a few minutes ago saying she wanted to stay the night with me, but right when I saw her pulling into the driveway, another car parked beside her, and I think they took her!”

Bada’s hands form fists as she motions with her head for Bebe to go into the garage full of cars. They do so immediately, piling into a modified and armored SUV with a sunroof. Lusher sits behind the wheel while Hyo takes the passenger’s seat. The rest of the girls sit in the back, guns positioned in their laps, Minah poking out of the sunroof with her rifle propped up in front of her.

Bada follows after them, getting into her personal, fortified sports car as the door to the garage slowly begins to open. She puts Jae on speaker, “Did you see who took her?”

“It was dark, but I recognized one person,” Jae confirms. “It was this woman who was at the party I threw for Unnie. She was staring at her the entire night like a creep.”

“What does she look like?” Bada asks through her teeth.

“She’s wearing a white dress shirt, a pair of black pants… oh, and she has very vibrant, red hair!”

Bada pulls up next to Bebe’s car, her eyes meeting Lusher’s, a new type of rage building in her irises. “Seong.”

When you awake from your slumber there’s a pounding ache at the back of your head, and your eyes are blurry. You blink as you try to gather your bearings and sit up, but your arms are held behind your back by something. You start to panic, your head whipping around as you begin to remember what had happened just before you lost consciousness.

You’d been driving the Jeep toward Jae’s house whilst sobbing uncontrollably, realizing that your selfishness would most likely cost you your engagement to Bada.

When you were a few minutes away from Jae, you called her with trembling hands, breathing heavily into your phone.

Your friend muttered your name into the phone, sounding like she’d just woken up.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice shook with emotions. “Is it okay if I stay with you for the night?”

“Of course,” Jae answered immediately. “But what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“Bada and I got into a fight.” You admitted. “I think she’s going to call off the engagement.”

“What?” Jae’s incredulous voice rang out of the phone.

“I’ll tell you everything in a second, I’m right next to your house.” You made a left into Jae’s neighborhood, finding the lights in her house on. You parked a little further down the street, seeing stray liquor bottles and red solo cups littering her lawn, most likely thrown away by her drunk party guests. “Okay, I’m here.”

“Where?” Jae’s figure approached the window that oversaw her driveway, her eyes squinting as she tried to discern your body from the pitch-darkness of the night. “I don’t see you.”

You sniffled into the microphone, switching hands as you climbed out of the Jeep and waved your hands to get Jae’s attention. “To your right.”

Jae’s eyes shifted in your direction, and after searching for a few minutes her eyes shone with recognition. “Oh, I see you!” She waved back at you, the interaction distracting you to the point where you didn’t hear a car pull up next to you until people were clambering out of it, their heavy footfalls approaching you.

You jumped when you felt an arm grab you, gasping and struggling against their grip. “Let me go!”

Jae’s voice came out of your phone, saying your name, but before you could answer her or call out for help, something hard hit you in the back of your head and caused you to fall limp into your kidnapper's arms. But before you fully lost consciousness, you caught a brief glint of red hair from the corner of your eye.

“No.” You whisper, reality finally settling in. “No, no, no.” You try to move your hands, but your eyes find them secured behind your back with handcuffs. You struggle against them, trying to wiggle your hands out but they’re closed tight against your flesh, making the steel rub your skin raw. You hiss in pain but continue trying until your wrists are red. You try to move toward the wall behind you, leaning on it to help you stand up.

Once on your feet, you stomp on the floor, trying to break the heel of your platform heels. You repeat your action a few times on each foot until part of the heel breaks off, leaving you with shoes that are easier to run in. You huff out in exhaustion, but you’re not done yet. Using the wall once again, you attempt to get your arms in front of you by jumping and pulling your arms under you. Thankfully, you’re successful, and let out a breathy laugh of victory.

You slide down the wall, taking a small break when you suddenly hear footsteps coming close to the room you’re trapped in. Your eyes widen in fear as you try to back away further from the door.

“Look who’s awake.” The woman with red hair enters the room, her voice coming out in a sing-song.

“Who are you?” You rasp, sitting up tall. Although you’re terrified out of your mind, you know better than to show it.

“The name’s Seong, sweetheart.” She smirks, one of her lackeys trailing after her. “And you have something I want.” You stare back at her as she gets closer to you, bending down so you’re at eye level. “Not going to ask me what it is?”

You say nothing, instead just keep eye contact with her, never once wavering under her unnerving gaze.

“Ah, we have a strong one here.” Seong laughs heartily. “I can see why Bada keeps you around.”

Mentally, you curse at yourself. Of course you’d been kidnapped as some sort of leverage piece between this woman and Bada. She’s most likely one of the rival gangs that’d been waiting for the chance to pounce at an opening to get through to Bada. And you’d stupidly given her the perfect opportunity.

“Well…” Seong’s voice drops, chills running down your spine as her eyes lower to your figure. “I’m guessing she doesn’t just appreciate your banter, huh?” She reaches out to touch you, her cold hands dragging across your collarbones. “So pretty…”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit, tone dripping with disgust as you recoil away from her.

“So lively too.” Seong chuckles.

“Bada’s going to come get me.” You cut in, glaring at the woman with fiery hair.

“Oh yes, I’m counting on that.” Seong smiles. “You know, she owes me a lot of money.” She stands up and begins to pace around the room. “My father and her father used to work together back in the day. But once Lee died and your little wife took over his business, she cut ties with him. Apparently, selling drugs is too ‘corrupt’ for her.” She scoffs loudly, the sound full of resentment and anger. “My father lost all his connections. He had to start selling to junkies on the streets, and now he’s running out of money.”

She stops in front of you again, a twisted smile stretching across her face.

“Bring him in,” Seong says to the lackey behind her. He follows her orders, trailing out of the room before he returns minutes later, a man shuffling behind him. When the man steps into the low light of the room, you audibly gasp and your eyes widen. “Remember him?” Seong stands next to the man–the same man from the mall. The man that’d harassed you, and had been humiliated by Bada.

Here he stands, the right side of his face swollen and colored in grotesque combinations of yellow and purple bruises.

“You.” The man rasps, his eyes shining with a crazy glint.

“This man right here was beaten half to death by Bada when I found him lying on the street.” Seong pats his shoulder. “Imagine my surprise when he told me how he’d accidentally hit on the Bada Lee’s fiancée, and almost gotten himself killed because of it.” She circles around the man. “Finding you after that didn’t take much. And look at you now…”

“Lying on the floor like some pathetic bitch.” The man spits. “How does it feel?”

“Go to hell.” You snap at him, eyes set in a glare.

“You should be careful how you speak to me.” The man warns you, walking closer before he bends down in front of you. “You’re the one who’s restrained, and at our mercy.”

“And yet despite that, it’ll be your blood that stains this floor when Bada finds me.” You retaliate.

The man’s face screws up in anger, and in a flash, he grabs onto your necklace, using it to tug you forward painfully. “You bitch–”

Your eyes go wide as you watch your necklace–Bada’s mother’s necklace–stretch in his hold. “No–” you choke out, using what little control you have of your hands to slug them against his face, taking his hands off the necklace. But unfortunately, his strength ends up ripping it off your neck, the broken jewelry falling onto the ground. “No!” You cry, scrambling over to the necklace, trying to grab it with your hands.

The man turns to face you, wearing a look of anger you’d never seen before in your life. He raises his fist, about to punch you when a hand stops him from doing so.

“Now, now, let’s not get too caught up in our anger.” Seong pulls the man away from you and pushes him toward the door. “We’ll have our fun once Bada arrives, believe me. You can do the honors of killing her if you really want to.”

Seong follows the man out of the room, her lackey trailing behind her before she stops to give you one final look, and closes the door to your room, leaving you trembling and in almost complete darkness.

In the raven black of the night, Bada, Tatter, Chehe, Hyo, Kyma, Minah, and Soweon stand at the door to Seong’s hideout, guns held tightly in their hands. Bada turns to look at a building across the street, holding a thumbs up in the air. Atop the building is Lusher, her sniper propped up against the ledge of the roof, her scope focused on Bada’s signal. She traces the red dot coming from her sniper around Bada’s thumb, indicating she’s ready.

“Lusher’s in position.” Bada turns back to face Bebe, nodding at them. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

“Yes, Boss.” They all parrot in response.

Bada turns to face the doorknob, pointing her gun at it before shooting. Tatter steps up first, shouldering the door open with intense force, making it swing open and reveal Seong’s hideout. Some lackeys that had been standing around jump at the sudden intrusion, their hands instinctively reaching for their guns. But all of Bebe’s members are twice as fast and skilled. Tatter shoots down one man with her shotgun while the rest of Bebe pile in, backing her up and mulling down the waves of oncoming men like they’re bugs.

Bada steps in last, shooting a man who was running in as backup, then shooting another who almost managed to get a shot in on Minah. She charges forward without fear, cutting through the mess of flying bullets and punching one of Seong’s men in the gut, then shooting him between the eyes. His blood splatters against the side of her suit as she kicks his body away, continuing her advance until she makes it out of the entrance of the hideout, and into a split hallway.

Bada keeps her pistol trained up and ears keen as she hears Lusher’s sniper bullets break through glass windows and hit some of the men still flocking to the entrance. An emergency alarm begins to blare in the hideout, red lights bathing Bada’s figure as she studies both paths ahead of her.

Suddenly to her right, she hears loud footsteps approaching and whips around to face a man running down the hallway. Thinking quickly, she shoots him in the foot before he has the chance to reach for his gun. He falls to the floor, screaming in pain whilst clutching his wounded foot. Bada walks over to him, kicking his gun away then aiming her pistol at his head.

“Where is she?” She yells over the loud, blaring alarm.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The lackey wails.

“Yes you do. Tell me or I’ll kill you!” Bada places her pistol on the man’s forehead, making his pathetic wailing increase.

“Okay, okay, just please don’t shoot me!” He begs.

Bada grabs the man by his clothes, hoisting him up and pushing him forward, causing him to stumble and almost fall onto the floor again. “Show me the way, now!”

The man cries as he hobbles forward, leading her in your direction.

“Fifty-five, fifty-six, fifty-seven…” your voice mutters amidst the silence, keeping track of the minutes passing by since Seong left. You stare at the steel door separating you from your freedom, hoping with every minute you count, Bada gets closer to finding and rescuing you.

It’s at minute forty-two when bright, red lights flood your room, blinding you and throwing you off your count as loud alarms sound outside. You sit up, your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“Bada…” you sigh in relief. She came for you.

Another five minutes pass before you hear movement coming towards your room, making you scramble towards the door. But when it opens, you’re not greeted by the sight of your fiancée. No, instead, Seong rushes inside, her red hair ruffled and her breaths uneven as she closes the door behind her.

“Fucking–” She mutters, her eyes finding you instantly.

“I told you.” You smirk. “You’re all dead.”

Seong stares back at you silently before charging up to you and slapping you across the face. You shriek and recoil back as she breaks into manic laughter, pulling out a gun from her pocket. “Maybe, but if I die, you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” She clicks the safety off, her finger in position to press against the trigger when three loud bangs come from outside your prison, making you scramble back in shock, and Seong turn to face the door.

A long moment of tense silence follows before the door to your prison slowly creeks open, Seong gulping as the hand holding her gun starts to tremble. Right before the door fully swings open, a shot is fired from the person outside, grazing Seong’s cheek and making her cower away.

She runs over to you, picks you up from the floor and holds onto you by your throat, her gun pressed up against your temple. "Don't get any closer, Bada Lee,” Seong yells, digging her fingers into your throat. “or I’ll kill her!”

Bada side-steps away from the door, revealing one of Seong’s men dead behind her, blood leaking from his foot and his forehead. “Let her go, Seong,” Bada demands. “Your problem is with me, not with her.”

“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? When you hurt one person, the people you care about suffer!” Seong laughs maniacally. “You had no mercy for my family, so why should I have any for yours?”

“You did all of this because I refused to sell your drugs?” Bada spits, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re pathetic, just like your father.”

Seong’s face reflects sheer anger in response to Bada’s words. She’s about to pull the trigger of her gun when Bada shoots first. She hits Seong in the knee, causing her to collapse and shoot the ceiling instead of you. You scramble away as Bada lunges forward, tackling Seong and knocking the gun out of her hand before she can try to shoot at you again.

Unfortunately, Seong is strong as well and fights back against Bada for her gun, both trading blows with each other until Seong manages to get Bada’s gun from her grasp. She pistol whips Bada in the face, giving her a cut across the nose as Bada falls to the floor, blood falling from her wound.

“Not so tough now, huh, Lee?” Seong screams as she points Bada’s very own gun at her.

“You should know that even if you kill me,” Bada says through heaving breaths, “you’ll still never make it out of this building alive.”

Seong bares her teeth at Bada, pushing her gun closer to her temple. “You’ll still be dead.”

“Don’t!” You scream, emerging from behind Seong, holding her gun. “Put the gun down or I’ll shoot.”

Seong clicks her tongue, laughing condescendingly as she turns to face you. “You don’t have the guts to kill me.”

“But I do.” Bada jabs her fist into Seong’s stomach, knocking the woman off of her and the air out of her lungs. Bada takes her gun back and places it in her pocket as the woman with red hair heaves against the floor, her eyes the size of saucers.

Bada walks over to your trembling figure, her gaze soft as her hands come up to grab yours that are still holding onto Seong’s gun.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She whispers tenderly into your ear, bringing you against her chest as she quietly soothes your shaky breaths.

“I thought you were–” You begin, the words falling from your mouth through gasps.

“I know, I know.” She shushes you. “Everything’s all right now. Give me the gun, honey.” You let go of Seong’s gun, allowing Bada to take it into her hands as she faces the red-haired woman who’s writhing on the floor. “You should have known better than to touch the people I care about, Seong.” Bada’s voice is cold, and more charged with rage than you’ve ever heard her carry before. “You’ll always be your father’s waste of a daughter.”

Through Seong’s choking breaths, you hear a sob wrack her voice, tears falling from her eyes and running down the sides of her face.

Before Bada pulls the trigger, her unoccupied hand comes down to shield your eyes. “Don’t look,” She whispers softly, “and cover your ears.” With tears streaming down your face, you plug your ears and shut your eyes, a deafening shot following soon after. A few minutes pass before you feel Bada move you around, hugging you close to her chest as she breathes a sigh of relief. “It’s over.”

It’s like the floodgates open at the sound of Bada’s soothing voice because you start to sob violently into her chest, wishing you could cling onto her, but you can’t your hands still restrained by handcuffs. “Bada.” You cry, burying your face into her warm body heat.

“I know, I’m so sorry.” She whispers. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I thought she was going to shoot you.” You sob. “I was so scared–”

“Shh, it’s all right honey, I promise. I’m okay.” She pats the back of your head before pulling away to gaze into your eyes. They’re wide and filled with tears, but so infinitely beautiful to her. Bada wipes your tears away with her thumb, smiling softly at you. She takes a step back, taking off her suit jacket before placing it onto your shoulders and rubbing up and down your arms. “Let’s go home, okay?”

Bada’s room is warm, the atmosphere a far cry from the prison you’d been held in. You sit on Bada’s fluffy bed, staring into the distance with a faraway expression while waiting for her to return.

Thankfully she does as soon as the thought crosses your mind. She makes her presence known by knocking gently on the wood of her bedroom door. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.” You croak.

Bada enters the room with a mug of piping tea in one hand, and uses her unoccupied one to close the door behind her. She sits next to you on the bed, handing you the mug while muttering a soft warning about how hot it is.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, taking the drink and blowing on it.

Bada places her big hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently as she looks into your downcast eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here.” You admit, staring at the ripples in the tea caused by your breath.

“I’m glad.” Bada’s eyes move from yours to your hands, noticing how red and raw your wrists are. She removes her hand from your thigh, gently touching your wrist so she can turn it over to get a better look at it. “Should I get you some pain medicine?”

“No.” You answer quickly, your eyes shooting up from your tea and meeting hers. “Stay with me, please.”

Bada nods silently, rubbing the skin just above your wrist. “I’m sorry.” She whispers grimly. “You got hurt because of me.”

You stare at Bada with an incredulous look, shaking your head rapidly. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t lied to you and went to that party, Seong would have never been able to get to me–”

“You went to that party because you missed your friends,” Bada argues back lightly. “I deprived you of a social life in my obsession with keeping you safe, and look at where it got us.”

“Bada Lee, this is not your fault.” You say firmly. “You saved my life.”

Bada looks like she wants to argue more, but holds herself back. The silence between you two allows your still-racing mind to catch up, and you suddenly sit up, eyes wide and full of sorrow.

"What is it?" Bada questions, noticing your expression.

"Bada..." you trail off, turning to the side to grab something you'd hidden. Facing her again, her mother's broken necklace is in the palm of you hand. "I'm so sorry. I tried to keep it safe..."

Bada takes the necklace out of your hand and holds it up in front of you both. "I don't care."

"What?" You breathe incredulously. "But Bada, it was your mother's–"

"And it can be fixed." She says softly. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Your look of shock melts into a sappy smile. “Me too.” You agree, placing your mug-free hand on top of Bada’s. She moves her hand around, weaving your fingers together tenderly as her thumb swipes across the skin of your hand.

“Did Seong hurt you anywhere else?” Bada asks, scanning your face for injuries.

You turn your face to your right, showing her your left cheek, which is now slightly bruised. “She slapped me.”

Bada’s eyes take in your injured cheek, a storm of emotions flashing in her irises for nothing more than a split second before she masks it with a caring expression. She brings up your arm so that it’s in front of her, places her lips on your hurt wrist, then she brings it back down and brushes her other hand across your left cheek. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss to each of the growing bruises.

When she’s done she leans back, nothing but pure care in her eyes as she gazes at you.

“Can I ask you something?” You mumble, butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach.

“You can ask me anything, honey,” Bada whispers, tracing shapes onto your hands.

“You always kiss my injuries.” You point out, careful to keep your voice sweet so she knows you like her display of affection. “Is there a reason why?”

Bada’s eyes leave yours for a brief moment, finding something above your head and gazing there before her eyes move back to you. “My mother, she used to…” she trails off, “she used to do that when I was younger. It always made me feel better.”

You smile softly at Bada, warmth flooding your veins. “That’s beautiful.”

She smiles back at you, muttering a soft thank you. You both allow a comfortable silence to fill the room until an idea pops into your head.

You quickly place your mug of tea on Bada’s beside table, then turn to face her. She gives you a confused expression when you take both of her hands and lift them up. Bada’s long fingers curl against yours, displaying her bloody and bruised knuckles. You lean down, placing a soft kiss next to each of them, unable to see how Bada’s eyes widen at your actions until you pull away.

When you look back at her, she’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You smile at her, then lean up, placing one final kiss on her nose, right below the cut Seong made.

Pulling away for the final time, Bada brings you closer to her, missing your warmth as she touches her forehead to yours and closes her eyes.

“Please never leave me again.”

❝ should my hands be stained with blood, let them be so, solely for you. ❞

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

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magicalink · 8 months

Text

Do they fuck or do they make love?

Headcanons with no specific AU! Mainly character x reader but it ended up implying character x character ships too in sime characters. I wrote this headcanons and when I was reading them to my boyfriend (who is my only beta reader) he started giving his opinions about them and I found his comments absolutely hilarious so I decided to include them! 🤣 First go my headcanons about the character and then my boyfriend's comments indented. Some of them are unhinged 🤣

Venti: Depends on the partner and the situation. He adores making delicate love to you but he's always up for a quickie in the middle of the house, the forest, anywhere and anytime you're willing. And oh Archons, is he intense when he does any of the two! He likes sex to be THE experience, and he tends to be over the top when it comes to it. Also an uncontrollable moaning machine.

Bf: Nah, he fucks. All the time. Cuz he is drunk all the time. We all know his only love is alcohol. I agree on the moaning machine part though, he is loud and doesn't care if others hear.

Diluc: Makes love. He has no time for sex if it's not with the love of his life. Doing it with him is a ceremony to remember. Expect long sessions full of kisses, heartwarming confessions, and body worshipping.

Bf: Accurate. Total gentleman. He only makes love. And possibly the first time you do it he will propose to you the morning after.

Childe: Fucks. He is all in for the adrenaline and pleasure in life, whether it's battle or it's lust. He wants to dive in and feel as much as he can,the more intense and dangerous, the better.

Bf: A fucking degenerate. He loves violence and competition and if he doesn't get it in sex then he's not interested. More of a masochist than a sadist, don't be surprised if you fight him and he ends up insinuating sexually to you. Especially if you're winning the fight. He wants to get beaten up. To sum up, he has a very weird way of "making love"...

Xiao: Makes love. To him, it's something sacred that should be shared with the people you love and respect the most. Will worship every inch of your body and be desperate to convey his feelings to you. Will focus completely on your pleasure, so make sure to calm him down and reward him a bit too!

Bf: Turbo virgin who self cock blocks all the time. He is always afraid: of hurting you, of making you uncomfortable, of saying something wrong, of looking at the wrong place...If you moan he asks you if you're okay. He gets soft all the time because he is afraid of hurting you. He has suicidal thoughts half the encounter. But yeah he makes love.

Albedo: Who knows, really. He's still studying what's the difference between the two. And he sure is doing an experiment and carefully studying it when he has sex with you. To be perfectly clear, he loves you, but this whole thing about sex and human relationships is new to him so he's trying to understand all these new feelings.

Bf: "Making love? Fucking? What is that? I'm the chalkman." Doesnt have a dick and if he had, he is not interested in human relationships at all. But if you manage to fuck him he would be writing down notes about it the whole time.

Scaramouche: Fucks because he thinks giving in to love will make him weak.💔

Bf: Fucks and he only thinks about his mommy issues while doing it. He only fucks to dissociate. And if you treat him with basic human kindness he will start seeing you as a maternal figure so be careful.

Wanderer: Now understands that lying about his feelings is the true form of weakness and doesn't want to waste a single more second of life, he makes love to you making sure he makes crystal clear how he feels about you: in the most explicit, toe-curling, fluid dropping way he can. If you like it hard, prepare to be smacked until you can't sit the following day.

Bf: He's gone to therapy so the mommy issues are better but he's still annoying af. He plays hard to get and pretends not to be committed but the truth is he's just being tsundere and hiding the fact that he is eating from the palm of your hand.

Kazuha: Makes the finest comfiest love in the world. Fucks like a horndog when he's drunk or high but won't stop telling you how crazily he loves you while doing it.

Bf: He is high af the vast majority of the time and during sex, it's no exception. If you manage to fuck him sober he will be the super reflexive and emotional type that cries during sex. But he fucks you lovely but won't make love to you, he only makes love with the love of his life Tomo, the rest of you are his cattle. He's a super friendly guy so after sex he will share his weed with you.

Gorou: He's a gentleman who wants to become good at making love but is extremely shy and gets flustered easily so he fucks sloppily. An adorable sight to behold!

Bf: I agree he is a little gentleman.

Tighnari: Makes love. Except when he's in heat. Then you have to be prepared if you wanna handle him.

Bf: another stoner. He would experiments with aphrodisiacs all the time, makimg them into weird salts or sth.

Cyno: Very similar to his jokes. He's completely sure he's giving his best at making love to you or Tighnari and showing you his devotion, but his poker face, stoic manners, and scary appearance make him look like he's angry fucking you. He doesn't get what he's doing wrong and doesn't do it on purpose. But it doesn't matter since you know him very well and not only are you used to his antics but you also have become sensitive to his very subtle changes of expression.

Bf: He can't help bit to tell bad jokes when he fucks. Self cockblocks himself all the time: either he goes soft in the middle of the act because he's laughing at his own jokes or he makes so cringy jokes that his partner gets uncomfortable and leaves. He can't help it, if he doesn't get them our he will explode.

Itto: Fucks wildly but it's his way of making love. He is just too brute to control the size and strength of his body, especially when he is under the effect of the feral feelings he has for you.

He loves you so much he can't help but to pick you up like you're a potato sack and swirl you in the air like you are a rag doll and take you with him everywhere. When he hugs you he leaves you breathless, when he kisses you he leaves you all sloppy and when he fucks you…well he leaves you sore for weeks but let's say it's totally worth it!

Bf: totally disagree! It would be so hard to fuck him, he would be clueless and friend zone or family zone you all the time. If you tell him you wanna be more than friends he would say "Superfriends??" With the biggest smile. And if you manage to fuck him he would be super careful, he knows he is a brute and is scared of hurting you.

Thoma: Makes super lovey-dovey love. Always double-checks if you're comfortable and enjoying the experience. Knowing he's making you feel good makes him glad and arouses him so don't be shy and tell him if he's doing it well!

Bf: nononono, absolutely wrong, you're blinded by his looks. He is a degenerate masochist and he only fucks Ayato. They have this weird dynamic where he literally acts as his dog.

Ayato: Another one who depends on the partner and situation. Honestly, he's so overworked that he desperately needs a good fuck. Ok maybe many of them. But not only he doesn't have the time, but also he can't be seen sleeping around due to his political position, so probably he'll only get to have sex when he finally finds the person he wants to marry. He hopes to be able to marry someone he actually loves instead of marrying for political reasons. So if you're the lucky one, expect heated sessions of lovemaking from this touch-starved man! Also, he'll love you but that doesn't mean he's gonna stop being a merciless tease 👀

Bf: Degenerate sadist who only has eyes for Thoma and makes him go through so much weird stuff they don't even remember what is to have normal sex. Tying him up and putting him on a leash is the most normal thing out of what they do.

Kaeya: Fucks. He lives for the spectacle and the mystique of it. Also, he's super popular around Mondstadt and wherever he goes so he sleeps around a lot. He has tons of admirers from both sexes and he makes sure to reward their love and devotion. He knows exactly how to please people, how to exacerbate his natural beauty and how to leave them crazy for him. He's simply so erotically natured. Probably the most experienced guy you know in the field.

Bf: Agree. Turbo slut. No more comments needed. If he manages to open his heart he can be sensitive. But that only happened once and it was with his own reflection in a mirror.

Heizou: Fucks lovingly 💕 He loves teasing and making his partner flustered. People and relationships are simply so fun and fascinating to him. And when he gets to be sexually intimate with someone it's even better! If you end up involved with him, be prepared to be taken to your limits.

Bf: Another degenerate. Probably makes you pretend you're a criminal to chase you around town. Pretty sadistic and I can imagine him having yandere tendencies. A cool guy though. When he is not horny.

Al Haitam: Zero interested in the matter. Until he met you. He is learning everything from scratch and even though he's always been a fast learner in everything, this subject is particularly hard since he needs to stop rationalizing and let his feelings take control for once. But his feelings for you are pretty intense, so little by little he is learning how to make love to you 💚

Bf: I imagine him as a turbo aspirator 3000. He would suck your soul out of your genitals. If you manage him to make him interested in sex, which is highly unlikely because he is like 0 interested in any kind of human contact. I picture him having sex with Kaveh and Kaveh would be a pillow princess and Haitham despite being the kind of guy who always sits down and just reads books he would be restless in bed, doing all the job and moving him around.

Kaveh: Another sweet-sweet love guy! He'll make sure to treat you like a princess and spoil you rotten in and out of the bedroom. He'll do the corniest expressions of chivalry but please bear with him, it genuinely comes from his heart. But if you want to see a more sloppy and wrecked side of him, you can always seduce him after he goes to the bar…

Bf: Sassy pillow princess. Or prince? Idk how to say it. He doesn't do anything but he will be all the time criticizing or praising what you do like a talent show judge. "Come on? Is it the first time you suck a cock or what?" You can imagine this kind of behavior is what infuriates Al Haitham and motivates him to go feral and fuck him around the whole house until he shuts the fuck up.

BONUS: This is an old draft but now that Neuvillete and Wriostheley are out, we couldn't let them out! So for this, we are interchanging roles, my bf will give you his headcanons and I will comment!

Bf: I'm 100% sure both Neuvie and Wriot are completely opposite in bed from their personalities in public. Our chivalrous and calm Neuvie is a pasional beast in bed. He is unsatiable, he is a dragon after all. Gives me the same vibes as Zhong Li who acts super calm but when fucking Childe he destroys 3 hotel rooms every night (exactly the type Childe loves. He got a crush on him when he struck him down at Fontaine's court. I'm sure Zhong Li will get jealous when he finds out and we will have some dragon drama going on) Back to Neuvie, he is super feral but he doesn't fuck, he makes love. It's his draconic way of making love. He is also very emotional and if he likes you, after having sex and having calmed down, he will open his wallet and start showing you the pictures of his 300 Melusine daughters and tell you their names and each of their jobs. He is a very proud dad.

Wriothesley loves you from a distance. While you fuck he is super sweet and loving, but during everyday life, he sucks at showing his feelings. He reminds me of the dad of Komi San, super silent but full of love. He communicates through glances (like a dog). Everyone thinks he is a bad boy but he's a super sentimental guy (won't admit it though) If you give him a gift he will treasure it forever and if someone breaks it or steals it from him he will beat them up.

One of his phrases would be "If something happens to my schmoochpsiepups I will kill everyone in Teyvat and then myself," and when he messes up with you for being unable to show his emotions he goes to a karaoke and sings "Baka Mitai" all depressed. He has 0 emotional intelligence and would go there often, crying "Oh, I wanted to tell Y/N how much I love them before they went away and I just groaned 'hmmm' AGAIN 😭😭".

YET ANOTHER BONUS: If Neuvillete and Wriothesley were in a romantic relationship, I'm sure Neuvie would tell him about all of his Melusine daughters. Wriot would act all cold and as if he didn't care but in fact he remembers all their names and thinks about them as his adoptive daughters. Don't be surprised if you walk down the street and see a Melusine falling down and he rescues her and goes to buy her an ice cream cone. He is a proud dad too.

Me: I have no comments. I agree with everything. And Wriot singing Baka Mitai would be amazing, he has the voice of Jotaro and Erwin after all.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Wow this post was longer than intended. AND ONLY NOW I realize we left Lyney and Zhong Li out. I guess bc to me Lyney is kinda teen coded? I feel like they wasted so much husband material making him look so young. I've seen the fandom drawing him as an adult and he looks so hansome. And both my bf and I rambled about Zhong Li but we forgot to include an entry for him 😂 He says it's ok because he's tied to Tartaglia and we spoke about him in Tartaglia's section 😂 God we are a disaster. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the post, whether you found the headcanons hot or my bf's comments funny. He is scared of getting cancelled though 😂

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 months

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Words: 9,001 (yeah, she's a beast!) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria S9, post-Negan war, before the bridge Warnings: language (duh, it’s me), violence (no sexual violence), injuries to main character, blood, some kind of dark Saviors shit (not like line-up level dark but kinda fucked), mild angst, Protective!Daryl, hurt/comfort Summary: The war is over, but it isn't all peaches and cream. The Sanctuary struggles to function and Daryl and Y/N struggle with ghosts of their pasts after Rick asks them to take things over there. Deciding they've had enough, they decide to depart for Hilltop but Y/N stays behind for a couple days to help Carol get started taking over. The past comes back to rear its ugly head... A/N: This is an epilogue to the Sacrifice series, but you don't necessarily have to have read all 29 previous parts to appreciate it (though you def should!) [Spoilers (or reminders) for context start here -> -> -> The war is over, Y/N was once one of Negan's wives in order to protect her brother, she went back to Negan to break Daryl out of the Sanctuary, Daryl ends up shooting Negan to protect Y/N when a plan of theirs goes awry and the war ends, Y/N was also shot in the process but survived]

_ _ _ _ _ _

You and Daryl stood off to the side, watching the group of people gather around Rick, flooding the open space on the Sanctuary’s factory floor. You gently touched him on the arm and his blue eyes landed on your face. “Are you going to talk to him tonight?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I gotta. I can’t—we can’t stay here any longer. I dun want you here either. Bein’ in here, in these walls again, it feels like it’s slowly poisonin’ us…” He glanced at the fresh graffiti someone had sprayed on the wall. We’re still Negan. Saviors Save Us

Your hand slipped down his forearm and you laced your fingers with his. “I know. It’s the right decision.”

“Yeah,” he mused. “Ain’t sure Rick’s gonna agree though…”

“Rick isn’t the one here dealing with all these people, reliving everything every day. It’s too much,” you said. Daryl nodded in agreement.

“Yeah…” Just then, Rick finished talking to the gathered group and there was a smattering of applause and murmuring. You gave Daryl’s hand a gentle squeeze as Rick wandered over. “Good luck,” you murmured.

Soon, various business that needed to be discussed was concluded and the already dim torch and lantern lights on the Sanctuary factory floor were all but put out. Daryl and Rick retreated up to the catwalk.

As they stood side-by-side, looking down at the shadowy, rundown building below them, Daryl sighed heavily and Rick could feel the tension between them. Rick broke the silence first. “So, what’s going on?” he asked.

Daryl gulped and straightened up, looking his friend in the eye. “I don't wanna be the one leadin’ these people anymore.”

Rick’s expression was impassive. “Okay... Why?”

“Bein' here, behind these walls again... It just don't feel right, man. I'm better out there. I always have been. And I’ve got Y/N to think about. After what happened to her in here—with him—”

Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Things happened to you in here too,” Rick said, perhaps realizing for the first time what he’d really asked of his friend, his brother…

“Yeah, well I care more about her than I care about myself. This is where her life was a livin’ fuckin’ nightmare. His wife…” he murmured under his breath. “She wasn’t his wife. She was his damn property. Her brother died here. He destroyed her group just like he destroyed ours. What d’ya think this place reminds both of us of?” He asked, turning sharp eyes to Rick. “Hmm? Did ya even think ‘bout that when ya asked me to come back here? Didya stop to think that ya might be askin’ us to relive some of the worst shit we’ve ever gone through?”

Rick hung his head for a moment, clasping his hands together. A wash of guilt and shame came over him. He hadn’t considered the full extent of it, no. But there was no one else to do the job and so he’d asked too much of Daryl, too much of you. “But you and Y/N have kept this place together. You’ve kept people in line here. We can't just let the Sanctuary fail after everything that's happened,” he said.

Daryl shook his head and paced a small, agitated circle. “Man, s’gonna fail anyway. Nothin’ grows here. It's a damn factory, man. Look, when Negan was around, he needed people to provide for him. It's still the same. Nothin's changed,” Daryl argued.

“It's different now. We give what we give willingly,” Rick retorted.

“And how long's that gonna last? Most of the bridges are out after the big storm. The highway's done. We've scavenged every drop of gas for miles. And we can't make enough corn fuel to run the cars or the trucks. Pretty soon, it's gonna be more than a day's ride from one spot to another.”

“Well, it's on us to figure out how to make it work,” Rick said, leaning forward on the rail again.

“Man, there ain't no ‘us’ anymore. Everyone's everywhere,” he pointed out. “I feel lucky that Y/N and I are even in the same damn place.” He let out another weighty sigh. “That small group we had back in the beginning... plus a few more of the people we picked up along the way, we could do anythin’. That was right. That’s what I know.” Daryl leaned forward beside Rick, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way.

“Well, you wanna come home to Alexandria, then?” Rick asked. “You and Y/N?”

Daryl shook his head. “No. We'll go back to Hilltop, check on Maggie and the baby.”

“Well, you go, someone's got to take your place here. Rosita and Eugene are headed to Oceanside next. Maggie's sending food, but not people, and Kingdom's got its own problems rebuilding after losing its fighters. If Alexandria sends another person out, I could use the help back home.”

Daryl only let out a small huff.

“We're not together because things have changed,” Rick said again.

Daryl stiffened. “Mm-hmm,” he hummed. His blue eyes turned to Rick again and they were intense. “The thing is, you changed ‘em, Rick.” The tension felt hot and pulsating in the air like liquid mercury. He patted his friend on the shoulder. “But I get it.” And then Daryl took his leave.

On the staircase, Carol backed away as quietly as she could, only to be startled by your voice softly behind her. “Well, that didn’t go great,” you whispered.

Carol turned to face you, her face drawn. “Daryl is right though. Rick shouldn’t have asked that of the two of you after—after everything you went through here. And he should have known Daryl would have a hard time saying no to him.”

You nodded and straightened up, stepping toward her. “Rick’s his brother,” you agreed. “And there really was no one else. But Daryl’s right. We can’t stay here anymore. It’s—it’s wearing him thin.”

“And you?” Carol asked, worried.

You gave her a tight smile and shrugged. But when you spoke again your voice broke. “I’d almost rather be anywhere else…”

Carol nodded knowingly and then grabbed you into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said. her mind drifted back to her own abuse at the hands of Ed and she felt a swell of affection for you and for Daryl, for both of you taking this on at all after everything… When she pulled back, she cleared her throat, pushing her emotion away. “I’ll—I’ll take over here a while. You and Daryl need to get out. I want to help.”

“Carol—”

��Don’t argue with me. My mind’s made up,” she said firmly.

You nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” you said. “I’m—I’m gonna go talk to Rick,” you said. “Make him understand.”

Carol nodded. “I’ll check on Daryl. Let him know what I’m thinking.”

“Okay. Good idea… Hey—Carol. This is—what you’re doing to help, it’s huge for us. So, thank you.”

She gave you a warm smile and you passed her on your way up the stairs to find Rick. He was still leaning heavily on the railing, clearly in deep thought over his discussion with Daryl. But he turned at the sound of your steps on the metal catwalk and straightened up when he saw you.

“Hey,” you greeted him stopping beside him and also looking down over the factory floor. No one was milling around anymore. Most people had drifted away to bed. “You okay?” you asked, giving him a knowing, sideways glance.

Rick laughed a little wryly and nodded. “Yeah… Just—tryin’ to figure out if and where I went wrong,” he said, clasping his hands together. “Things I’d do differently now…”

You nodded. “You have a lot of weight on your shoulders. Daryl knows that.”

Rick met your eyes again, clearly realizing you’d overhead their conversation somehow.

You straightened up and tilted your head toward the hallway down the catwalk. “Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Rick followed you as you stopped to grab a lantern and then led him down the hallway. This part of the building was mostly empty these days, except for a few people who had carved out some private spaces for themselves. The warm orange glow flickered past many doors and other halls before you turned right and came partially down the next corridor. The nauseous feeling and the heavy pit in your stomach grew as you walked, and before you knew it, your hand was trembling slightly holding the lantern. This place was full of ghosts.

Rick looked at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked. The tremble in your hand translated to a shakiness in the shadows cast by the light on the walls and it was easy to see.

“We’re almost there,” you said softly.

You walked in further silence for only another half a minute before you stopped in front of a gaping dark space in the wall, barely bigger than a closet. Rick gave you a questioning look and you lifted the lantern to illuminate it. The floor was filthy with layers of smeared dirt and who-knows what else. “This is where they held us. Me, when my brother and I were captured, and Negan singled me out from my group. And Daryl after the line-up with Alexandria.”

Rick stared at the dirty, dingy space and he could almost see Daryl huddled there in his mind’s eye, wearing that filthy sweatshirt. His brow furrowed and his face contorted.

You pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Your head felt a bit light and foggy. “I—I had the doors that used to be on the cells removed, because—I just couldn’t stand the sight of them closed up like that. I kept—kept imagining Daryl was still in there every time I had to walk past. Or that somehow, I was going to end up back in there.” You glanced over at Rick who was staring straight into the darkness. He watched as you raised your free hand to rub at your bad shoulder, the one Negan’s bullet had pierced. “They took all his clothes at first. Left him in there naked. Cold. Shot. Hungry. Wondering what happened to the rest of you. And the thirst… Then, Dwight humiliated him and they fed him dog food and blasted music to keep him awake. The same song, over and over. Then, they made him work outside in the heat and humidity in that filthy sweatsuit, chaining walkers to the fence for Negan or doing whatever awful chores they could invent. He had to clean up after Negan punished someone, mopping up shit or piss or worse… Dwight made him look at pictures of—of what happened to Glenn and Abraham.” Tears burned in your eyes and Rick’s shut and he dropped his head.

He lifted a hand to wave you off. “I—I understand,” he said in a low voice, his heart breaking. He’d been careless to ask Daryl to come here, too focused on his beautiful dream in the memory of Carl to realize what this would do to you and to Daryl.

“He didn’t want to say no to you when you asked him to come back here. You’re like a brother to him. He didn’t want to let you down even though—it’s literally the last place either of us wants to be.”

Rick sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin. “I don’t have an excuse… I—I shouldn’t have asked it. Of either of you… I just—I was tryin’ to make this all work.”

You nodded. “I know. So does Daryl. But that doesn’t mean that it hasn’t been… We’ve both been reliving our trauma having to be back here. And we’ve hit our limit. That’s all.”

Rick met your eyes again. You hadn’t even talked about yourself, about what you’d been through here in the cell and with Negan after, not really. You’d mainly focused on Daryl. But Rick could guess well enough what it would have been like for you being one of Negan’s wives and living in that constant fear for your brother and yourself, what you’d had to subject yourself to.

He glanced again at that dark space in the wall. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Carol said she’ll take over here for a while,” you said, turning away from the cell and starting back the way you came.

Rick looked surprised but nodded, walking along beside you.

“I’ll—I’ll stay a couple days to get her going here and up to speed. And then I’ll go meet Daryl in Hilltop.”

“Alright,” Rick nodded. “It’ll have to work for now. But I can’t help thinking it’s a patch on the issue and not a fix.”

You laughed wryly again. “Aren’t most things these days? Rick, Daryl wasn’t wrong about The Sanctuary. It’s a resource sink. It doesn’t produce anything. You’re still going to have to square with that one day. I get what you have been trying to do, making peace with the rest of The Saviors, and not all of them are guilty of the awful things that happened during the war. But things are still festering here under the surface.”

Rick looked over at you, concerned. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, about ready to part ways with him on the catwalk again. “You saw the graffiti. Negan might be dead but for some of them, it’s not over.” You gave him one last look. “Daryl and I know you have a lot on your plate, but it’s time for us to get the hell outta here. If we don’t… this place will consume us. We can’t move away from what happened while we’re here. It’s like—it’s like having it shoved down our throats every day.”

You took your leave from Rick then, leaving him again in deep thought. You knew where you could find Daryl, at a spot outside he liked to go where most people wouldn’t be able to disturb him. It happened to be someplace the two of you sometimes went to watch the stars. When you got there, stepping just one foot outside the building, you had to smile to yourself. Daryl and Carol were just sitting together, side-by-side, enjoying a moment after being apart for so long. You decided to leave them to it.

You made your way back to the room you and Daryl had claimed together in a different part of The Sanctuary. You hastily changed your clothes and got ready for bed, knowing he’d come find you there when he was ready. And it wasn’t long before he did, coming in to see you already cozied up in the bed you shared, reading a worn paperback.

You smiled as he came in. “Hi,” you said.

He stopped in the doorway and took you in, giving you a small smile back. “Hey. Sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” Daryl drawled, sinking down beside you on the mattress. “I was out sittin’ with Carol.”

“It’s alright. I know you were. I didn’t want to interrupt,” you said, reaching for a strand of his wavy hair and running your fingers down it gently. “You haven’t seen each other for a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling off his boots. “Get this. Ezekiel asked her to marry him,” he said, giving you a conspiratorial look.

You pushed yourself up on the palm of your hand. “Oh my God!” you burst out.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Well? What did she say?!”

“Ah… She ain’t ready yet,” Daryl explained.

“Wow.” You thought of Carol and Ezekiel together after the close call at the museum. They were good for each other. “Maybe someday?” you asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm.” His hand came to rest on the graceful curve of your neck. It was cool from the nighttime air. He leaned in and kissed you softly, pulling back just slightly to study the colors in your irises. “Listen—I told Rick—”

“Yeah, I know,” you interrupted him gently. “I could hear the two of you. And Carol talked to me too. She’s gonna take over here for a while.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. So, we can go. We dun have to be here anymore. Figured we can head to Hilltop tomorrow. Check on Maggie and Hershel.”

You nodded and then ducked your eyes. “I’m—I’m gonna stay here with Carol for just a couple more days. Help her get started and settled. Then I can meet you. I’ll take one of the horses.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. You could see that he was getting ready to argue.

“It’s just a few more days,” you whispered, gently grabbing onto the front of his vest. “It’s the least I can do since she’s doing this for us, leaving her family and world in The Kingdom.”

Daryl’s stomach churned a little, leaving him feeling slightly nauseous. “She’ll have Eugene,” he pointed out.

“Barely. He and Rosita are heading to Oceanside next to get the fishery going.”

Daryl sighed heavily and moved back to sit on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slightly slumped. He was chewing on his bottom lip. You knelt behind him and draped yourself against his back, looping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the curtain of his wavy hair, breathing him in and leaving a kiss on his neck. “It’s just a couple days,” you said again.

He gulped. He didn’t know why, but there was a pit in his stomach. “I dunno…” he mused aloud. “I dun like ya bein’ here without me. Here of all damn places.” His mind went back to that graffiti sprayed on the wall.

“I know. I don’t either. But I want to help Carol as a thank you. And then I’ll come straight to Hilltop.” You moved around to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. “Hey—Look at me,” you urged him. “I can handle myself. Or did you forget?” you teased him, bumping into his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know ya can handle yerself. It ain’t that… Somethin’ just—I dunno. Somethin’ dun feel righ’.”

You sighed and nodded knowingly. “It’s never felt right being here.”

“Yeah… maybe tha’s just it. I dunno,” he said finally, but you noted that he still looked slightly troubled. It had been a long day, and his talk with Rick was intense. He stood up and started getting ready to climb in bed with you. You watched the muscles in his back ripple, crisscrossed by his scars, as he pulled off his shirt. You crawled back beneath the sheets and waited until he slipped in beside you.

“C’mere,” he murmured softly to you as he settled into his pillow. You moved into him immediately and he pulled you against him. You tangled your legs with his and gazed into his bright blue eyes. He draped an arm over you and his hand moved to find the hem of your t-shirt before slipping underneath it and pressing against your bare skin, tracing absent patterns on your side, your hip, your back. Daryl leaned in and kissed you, one that was deep and full of wanting.

You felt a pooling of heat expanding in your chest as his lips moved to your neck. Daryl listened to your breathing hitch as he kissed your pulse point and grazed the shell of your ear. His hands wandered over the shape of you beneath the draping of your shirt. In no time, the two of you were completely lost in each other, melting into sensations and quiet gasps of pleasure, bounding hearts and heaving chests, skin on skin. Daryl’s fingers laced between yours, his other hand firm on your hip. Then, after you both reached your blissful highs, you fell asleep in his arms and neither of you woke until the sun was coming up.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You walked with Daryl to his bike and stood beside him as he strapped down his gear, giving him a smile when he looked up at you again.

“Are ya sure ‘bout this? Ya dun have to stay. Carol will be fine,” he said in a low voice. That pit in his stomach had returned almost immediately when he awoke and thought about separating from you.

You gently rested your hands on his sides, stepping in close. “Everything is going to be fine. Go help Maggie. Check on her and Hershel. I’ll see you soon. Okay?”

He looked worried, but nodded. “S’yer call. Two days,” he drawled.

You nodded. “Two days. I promise.”

“Alrigh’…” He leaned in and kissed you deeply, clasping your face and pressing his other hand into the small of your back to pull your body flush against his. You kissed him back heatedly and hungrily and sighed when you broke apart.

“Miss ya already,” he said, breaking contact with you and getting ready to climb onto his bike.

“Same,” you agreed, giving him a tight smile. “Love you,” you added, waiting until the last moment of separating to unlace your fingers from his.

He nodded and studied you, drinking in the view. “You too.”

Then, in a spray of gravel and a cloud of dust he was on his way. You didn’t see him glance back at you over his shoulder before he completely lost sight of The Sanctuary.

You found Carol already on the factory floor standing with Eugene, looking over whatever list of action items were on his clipboard that day. You were absently rubbing your bad shoulder as you came up. It had been aching since the day before. Had revisiting the cell stirred things up? Probably. Carol noticed immediately.

“You okay? Shoulder bothering you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Just a little. The old war wound acting up a bit,” you said with a wry laugh.

Eugene looked up from his clipboard. “I could potentially formulate a topical balm that may relieve some of your chronic pain symptoms, though most ingredients would not sufficiently penetrate the muscle in order to reach the origin of—”

You cut him off with a smile and a laugh. “It’s okay, Eugene. I’m fine. It’s not too bad. What do we need to tackle today?”

The three of you chatted briefly about what needed to be done urgently and then each picked your tasks to start with. Several hours later, you were nearly done trying to treat the small number of plants that were still surviving in the raised garden beds for some kind of insect pest when you were interrupted.

You turned at the sound of footsteps to see one of the Sanctuary residents approaching. You stood and dusted the soil from your gloves. “Hi. What’s up?”

“The guys getting that scrap metal from the upper floors found a water leak. Can you come take a look at it? We might be able to fix it, but we’d probably have to shut the water off completely for a while.”

You sighed heavily and pulled off your gloves. “Always something new, isn’t it?” you said dryly. “Yeah, I’ll come take a look now. Lead the way.”

You passed through the factory floor, noting that the graffiti discovered the day before had been freshly painted over as Daryl had demanded. Carol and Eugene were bent over a table in deep discussion over some new plan. Your stomach flipped as it always did as you passed the oven where Negan used to heat his iron or branding rods. You turned your eyes away.

Soon you were on the upper floors, walking through the dim hallways. It always felt eerily quiet up there. The resident you were following pointed ahead to the next doorway and then stopped to grab some work gloves from a pile of gear set in the hallway. You passed him and stopped in the doorway, expecting to see the group of other people working, but the room was empty. And there was no sign of a water leak. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. “Hey, are you sure this is—”

And then everything went black.

Carol was walking somewhat aimlessly back and forth across the factory floor, weaving through the supplies and little bunched groups of people. She craned her neck trying to see if she could spot you anywhere. The two of you had planned to meet for the evening meal after everyone was done for the day but Carol was suddenly realizing she hadn’t seen you since that morning.

Her stomach began to churn. She bolted toward outside where evening was beginning to fall. The garden beds cast long, deep shadows between them, but she didn’t find you crouched among them. The final place she checked was the room you shared with Daryl, now mainly bare of your items since the two of you had begun packing your belongings to leave. Daryl had already taken his few things away on his bike.

There was no sign of you.

Her heart started to pound. She’d questioned everyone she could think of as to your whereabouts. Where could you possibly be? An anxious thought flitted into her mind. Her stomach tightened into a fist. It wasn’t like you not to arrive somewhere you said you would…

The last thing to do was to search the rarely used upper floors. She knew a crew had been working up there earlier in the day, collecting and hauling scrap metal to be reused to patch the roof and fences. Perhaps something had come up and you were still up there assisting with a problem.

Her boots made a lonely, echoing sound as she rushed around corner after corner. There was a weighty silence and the farther up she wandered, the sicker she felt. Something was seriously wrong. She could feel it in her bones. She called your name out but it strangely didn’t seem to pierce the thick vapor of silence in front of her. Every step increased her heart rate and poured adrenaline into her bloodstream. She felt almost shaky as she loosened her knife in its sheath. Just in case, she thought. In case of what?

Another minute or two passed as she searched. Each moment felt excruciatingly long. And then all of a sudden, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God. Y/N!” Carol bolted toward the crumpled form halfway down the hall in front of her. “Oh, God…” The front of your shirt was soaked with blood and you were lying on the cold floor unconscious. Your face was bruised and swollen. There were cuts and smears of blood on your skin. But what held her attention horrifically was that whoever had done this to you had taken a knife and began to carve a word into your chest, just below your collar bone. SA and part of a V. Carol didn’t need to guess what they’d intended to spell. They were making a gruesome point. Her hands shook as they hovered over you for a moment. She said your name again and then gently clasped your face and gripped your arm. She jostled you a little. “Wake up. It’s Carol! Please, wake up!”

You began to stir a little and a grimace contorted your features.

“Oh, thank God,” Carol sighed, hanging her head in relief for a very brief moment before the nausea seemed to rise into her throat again at your condition. “Y/N? Open your eyes, hun!”

You let out a small pained noise and then your eyes did open blearily. You were immediately trying to sit up, pushing yourself up on the palms of your hands but your head felt split in two and your muscles felt rubbery and weak. “Fuck,” you murmured.

“Whoa—okay. Easy! Take it easy!”

You reached up and touched the back of your head. It was swollen with a lump and tender and your fingers came away slightly sticky. You looked down at them and registered the deep color of drying blood. Your chest burned. You looked down to see that the whole front of your shirt was stained crimson. Your body ached and panged with sharp pains. You could feel your heartbeat in your face.

“Is anything broken? Can you stand up?” Carol asked, her brow heavy over her eyes, but the light inside frantic and quickly turning furious.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” you said softly. Your jaw ached. You gave it an exploratory wiggle left and right and immediately regretted it. Your bottom lip was split and swollen. You winced again. “What the fuck?” you murmured. “I mean what the ever-loving, royal fuck?” you growled. The hot rage welling up in you was pushing some of the pain back.

“Let’s just get you up and off the floor, okay? Slowly.” Carol helped you to your feet. Your head swam and you squeezed your eyes shut, not letting go of her hands for a long moment until you felt steadier. Her expression said enough about what you must look like… “What happened? Do you know who did this to you?” she asked.

You shook your head a little, absently pressing a hand to the burning sensation on your chest, but you stopped as the burn surged when your palm landed flush on your skin. You took in a sharp intake of breath through your teeth. “No. Well—I saw one of them… they lured me up here. Told me there was a water leak they found while doing the scrapping and—and then someone hit me on the head from behind and I was knocked out. But I don’t know why. I mean, why me?”

Carol’s expression was taught. Anger swirled in her eyes. She knew exactly why. You couldn’t see it yet, but the word was partially carved into your chest. That graffiti on the wall out on the factory floor was just the tip of the iceberg. Things were rotting here just under the surface, and since you’d once been Negan’s wife, she imagined you were a perfect target for those who wanted to make a point. “Let me see the back of your head,” she said. There was a small split in the skin where you’d been struck, your hair stained rusty red, but she didn’t think you’d need stitches there and she was extremely relieved that it wasn’t worse... not much anyone could do from something like a skull fracture in the apocalypse. She sighed heavily as another flame of rage wicked upwards in her chest. “Okay… Let’s get you back to your room. Hold onto my arm. Can you make it?”

You nodded, gripping her to steady yourself on your shaky legs, and allowed her to lead you away. You glanced back over your shoulder and were sickened to see the smears of your blood shockingly deep red on the tile behind you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Carol had you sitting on the edge of your bed and she set down a first aid kit beside you. You were looking up at her from behind a wall of swelling and bruising on your face. You tenderly wiggled your jaw again, testing opening and closing your mouth. It felt ready to lock up. She could tell from the way you’d moved on the walk back and how you were slumped slightly forward now that there was probably substantial bruising beneath your clothes that she couldn’t see. Your movements were tentative and cautious.

You hadn’t looked in the mirror yet. You were afraid to. The pain was bad enough. The fogginess in your head was bad enough. You were worried if you saw the results of the beating, it would only make it worse, more real.

Carol began unpacking supplies. “Tell me everything you remember,” she said gently.

You shook your head. “Not much. Like I said, I was out working in the raised garden beds and somebody came up to me.”

“Who?” Carol pressed you. “If you don’t know their name, what did they look like?”

“Uhh… his name starts with a ‘G’ I think… Give me a second.” You filed through names in your head until you got the right one. “Graham. I think that’s it… He’s tall. Long black hair past his shoulders.”

“Okay,” Carol nodded, opening an alcohol swab. “What did he say exactly?”

“He asked if I could come look at a leak they found while they were moving all the scrap metal. He said they thought they could fix it but they’d have to turn the water off. I went to see and I was barely in the doorway of the room he pointed out. There wasn’t a water leak. I was just standing there, about to say something and—something hit the back of my head. I don’t really remember anything after that. Some foggy pain maybe but… mostly nothing.”

“Do you think there were others waiting up there? Or could it have just been him?” Carol asked, dabbing at a wound on the side of your face. You shut your eyes from the fumes of the alcohol. She was starting to worry about just how many traitors could be in the walls.

“There was at least one other person. When I got hit, I was looking back at him ten feet away from me down the hall.”

Carol sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay.” Her eyes drifted down to the cruelly carved letters on your chest. Your chin tilted down as you tried to look but her hand on your shoulder stopped you. “Hold on,” she said. Her face contorted with emotion she was trying to hold back. “Better you see this now. I’m so sorry.”

You gave her a perplexed look. You knew you were beat up but what was she—

Carol grabbed the small mirror off the little sink in the corner and held it up so you could see yourself for the first time. Initially, all you saw was the swelling and bruising on your face but then your breath caught in your throat. S-A- and part of a V, cut into your skin. The cuts were deep and she had already had to apply some butterfly bandages to hold certain spots closed. No wonder your skin had burned and stung there since you came back to consciousness.

You felt like you were about to be sick and Carol must have seen you pale because she hastily put down the mirror and gripped your shoulders again as if she was afraid you were going to faint. “Whoa. Deep breaths.”

Your eyes shut and you did your best to swallow down the nausea. “What the fuck,” you muttered, reeling. You blinked away angry tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get you cleaned up and then I think I have some of my special ointment in my bag. If you apply it at least once a day it’ll minimize any scarring…”

You let out a wry laugh. “Minimize,” you repeated. “But I’ll still have half of ‘Saviors’ carved into me for the rest of my life.” Tears burned in your eyes again. It wasn’t bad enough what you had gone through with Negan, with his men, with the war—now this? Would it ever be over?

Carol winced. “I’m so sorry… I had no idea things were this bad here.”

You sniffled and mopped gently at the tears that had broken out onto your cheeks. “I knew they were pretty bad but—can’t say I saw anything like this coming.”

“Well, who could? It’s—horrific.” She gave you a sympathetic look and then surprised you by pulling you gently into a hug for a long moment. Her eyes were teary now too when she pulled back, but she pulled herself together quickly. Back to business, she returned to the first aid kit and continued her ministrations. Your mind was endlessly turning.

“I wonder why they didn’t finish,” you suddenly said softly.

“Mmm,” Carol hummed, nodding, tossing down another soiled gauze pad and reaching for a new one. “They must have gotten interrupted. Maybe heard someone in that part of the building.”

Your eyes lifted and met hers. She paused at the expression on your face. “Do you think they were going to kill me? Leave me there with—with this cut into me to make a statement?”

Carol’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep her tone flat. Your question had been asked matter-of-factly and Carol was suddenly reminded of all you had gone through in the war and even before any of them had met you, when you’d just been a stranger with a mysterious backstory. “But obviously they knew they couldn’t take you in a fair fight. Fucking cowards,” she growled. “Had to ambush you to even have a chance.”

You sighed, shaking your head again, your eyes dropping to your hands. “They sure beat the shit out of me though,” you mused aloud. “It’s probably good Daryl isn’t here. He’d lose it,” you said, fiddling with another gauze pad which Carol took out of your hands and taped down over the now cleaned cuts below your collarbone.

She cleared her throat. “About that…”

You met her blue eyes again. “You radioed him? He’s probably way out of range by now. He’s probably already in Hilltop,” you said.

“Rosita rode out on the quad immediately to get within range. Eugene is doing a headcount as we speak to see who, if anyone, is missing…”

Another wry laugh left you and you nodded. “That’s why you took so long. And I just thought you couldn’t find the damn kit,” you said, shooting her a look, tears burning in your eyes. “Daryl is gonna go on a rampage,” you said softly.

Carol nodded. “Probably. But he should be here with you. And if I didn’t radio him, I’d be on the receiving end of that rampage. And I think we should focus it on the assholes that did this to you instead.”

You nodded and a sob tried to burst out of you. You suppressed it as best you could and it came out as a hitched breath. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a little strained.

Carol quickly grabbed you into a hug again. “Everything is going to be okay. Daryl will be here soon and we will figure this out.”

You hugged her back and nodded into her shoulder, grateful again for your found family.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was there in an hour, stomping through The Sanctuary with Eugene at his heels, mostly ignoring the stream of words out of the mullet-headed Texan’s mouth. Rosita finally grabbed Eugene’s arm and stopped him, clearly realizing Daryl wasn’t hearing a word of it, didn’t give a shit about anything but going to see you. He was at the door of the little room the two of you had shared before anyone could come to tell you he’d arrived.

Daryl froze and made himself knock lightly, rather than barely in. The last thing he wanted was to startle you. His stomach turned as he waited to hear your voice on the other side, inviting him in. “S’me,” he drawled, the jittery feeling that permeated his body translating to an ever-so-slight tremble in his voice.

You sat up in bed. “Come in,” you said hurriedly, already feeling the tears burning in your eyes again. You were in clean clothes now and thoroughly patched up thanks to Carol, but that wasn’t going to change how rough you looked and how hard it was going to be for Daryl to see it.

The door opened slowly, measuredly, and he took shape in the doorway. He froze for only a split second as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in the swelling and already deep purple bruises. Then he rushed to you and hugged you in against him gently. That was all it took for you to go to pieces against him, clinging to his leather jacket. “Jesus, what the hell did they do to ya? ‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry I wasn’t here. I shouldn’ta left ya. ‘M so sorry, babe. I shoulda been here,” he said into your hair, kissing you on the top of the head, holding you gently so he wouldn’t hurt you but firmly so you knew you were safe.

You sniffled and mopped the tears from your cheeks as he clasped your face and brushed your hair back. “Don’t—don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” you said, looking up into his blue eyes. They were stormy and turbulent. “You couldn’t know…”

“Lemme see ya,” he said, looking you over. His heart ached as you showed him the bruising on your stomach and ribs. “Sit back. Rest,” he said, climbing into bed beside you where you were propped up against the headboard and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You tucked in against him. He left a kiss in your hair again.

“Did—did Rosita tell you what they—that—”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “She didn’t tell me anything specific except that some assholes had hurt ya bad, beat ya up, and that I needed to get back here,” he said. “Tell me what?” His stomach churned around a hard knot. His mind began inventing all kinds of horrific scenarios immediately. What did you mean?

You could see him whirling and quickly tried to explain. “I was unconscious but—” Your hand landed on the gauze pad taped over the wounds below your collarbone. His eyes flitted down to it. “They used a knife and—” You couldn’t get any more words out so you simply lifted the bandage to show him, gingerly peeling back the medical tape and bandaging. Daryl froze completely. Every part of him stilled. He stared at the brutality someone had inflicted on you and hot rage boiled inside him. More tears leaked out onto your cheeks as you saw what it was doing to him to see that on you. You hastily covered it back up.

He softened again, coming back to himself, letting his anger flow away, and wiped the tears from your face with his thumbs. “Hey—it don’t matter to me what they—how they marked ya like that. Ya know that, right? Ya got every right to feel however ya feel ‘bout it. Ya do. But to me—” He shook his head. “It don’t matter, okay? I just see you. It’s all gonna be alrigh’.”

You collapsed into him again, finally letting yourself completely break down, wondering how the fuck you’d gotten so lucky as to find this man. He held you against his chest, his strong arms securely around you. He could feel the bump on the back of your head where they’d hit you. He could feel the swelling on your face and under your clothes, and he internally yelled at himself for leaving you behind, even if it was only supposed to be for a couple days, even though no one would have guessed that anything like this would happen, even though he knew how strong and capable you were. “‘M so sorry,” he murmured again. “I shouldn’t have left ya here… here of all places, with them.” His hands clenched into fists. “I’m gonna track down every one of these assholes and put ‘em in the fuckin’ ground,” he growled.

You couldn’t stand him blaming himself and you pulled yourself together. “It’s not your fault, Daryl. And—maybe… maybe I should have known something like this could happen…”

His brow furrowed. “What do ya mean?” He took a beat, his heart seemingly suspended somewhere in a gaping space that had opened in his chest. “Did somethin’ happen before this?”

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes still glassy. “No. No, not exactly. Nothing happened. I mean, people have—said things to me before. Made comments. I just—”

Daryl frowned, his brow heavy over his eyes, casting them in a deep shadow. “Like what? What kinda comments?”

You sighed and turned to face him more fully. You rested your hands on his sides. “Just—little shitty things. Because of what I’d been here,” you explained. “As Negan’s wife…”

Daryl was boiling again inside with anger. “Ya weren’t ever his wife,” he said. “That word means somethin’ else.” Your fingers went to touch the wedding band on your ring finger, the one Daryl had made with his own hands and given to you.

“Yeah. I know. It doesn’t matter,” you said quickly. “I just wrote them off and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be a big deal and I knew how upset you’d get. It just felt like shitty people being shitty at the time. Mostly…”

“Mostly,” he growled.

“I never thought anything like this would happen. I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”

Daryl sighed and ducked his head, running his hands gently up and down the soft bare skin on your arms, marred with bruises and abrasions. “Don’t apologize. Ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I get why ya didn’t tell me… and yer righ’. I woulda beat the shit out of anybody sayin’ or doin’ anythin’ like that to ya. But tha’s my job. I wanna protect you.”

“I know,” you said. “We’ve just had so much on our plate here. I didn’t want to add something else. And I never thought—I didn’t think—” You grimaced as a wave of pain and dizziness hit you.

“I know. I know. Hey—it’s okay. We’ve talked ‘bout this enough. Ya need to rest. ‘M here now. S’okay.”

“I am really tired,” you agreed, shutting your eyes and waiting for the lightheaded feeling to pass.

He clasped your face again, his eyes flickering from this injury to that, and then he kissed your swollen lips as gently as he could. You managed to give him an overwhelmed, somewhat sad smile which he returned. “C’mon. Let’s lay down.”

Daryl helped you settle down on the mattress and fitted himself beside you. You tucked yourself against his body, breathed in his smell and safety, and shut your eyes. His fingers brushed through your hair, reassuring and grounding.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning Daryl was awake early while you slept on. He carefully, ever so slowly slipped out of bed and pulled a change of clothes on. He snuck out and headed to find Carol, Eugene, and Rosita.

He spotted Eugene first and nudged his head up in a nod as a greeting. “Well, what d’ya got to tell me?” Daryl asked hurriedly.

“We were short five of the former Saviors at the headcount last night, and five again this mornin’. Carol and Rosita have been questionin’ people all night. We don’t think anyone here knew anything about it. They weren’t exactly gentle with their lines of inquiry.”

Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth and nodded thoughtfully. “Alrigh’. As I thought then... Cowards took off right afterwards.”

“Indeed. I suspect they knew Justice’s hammer would fall hard and swift on them once their atrocious deed was discovered,” Eugene agreed. “No way to know now where they’re headed.”

Daryl sighed. “Hopefully righ’ into a fuckin’ herd of walkers,” he drawled. “Alrigh’. Well, we need to send out runners to get word out to The Kingdom and Alexandria so ev’rybody can watch out for those pieces of shit... Y/N and I will take news to Hilltop today, and keep our eyes open for any sign of ‘em on the way. If I get sight of ‘em, I’mma strangle ‘em with my bare fuckin’ hands…” He sighed again, even more heavily this time. “Thanks. For everythin’ ya’ll did last night.”

“Of course,” Eugene said sincerely. “How is her condition today?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head. “She’s still asleep. She was exhausted. ‘M gonna get back up there. I dun want her wakin’ up here alone and ‘m still afraid there could be somebody in here—” he hesitated to speak his fear lest it become real. “She’ll be alrigh’. She’s tough. But she was shaken up pretty good and I can’t believe how bad they beat her up... and what they did,” he said vaguely, referring to the letterds on your skin. “But she’ll be okay.” He patted Eugene on the shoulder gratefully and headed straight back to you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

With hasty goodbyes and thank you’s to your close, chosen family, still at The Sanctuary you departed for Hilltop on the back of Daryl’s bike. You held extra tightly to him the whole way, and often his right hand left the handlebars to smooth over yours for a moment. The Sanctuary shrank smaller and smaller behind you and then disappeared into a cloud of dust. Neither of you knew it at the time, but you’d never come to that place again while it was a semi-functional community. It would be only ruins when you sheltered there during the storm eight years after the war.

On arriving at Hilltop, Maggie threw her arms around you and tears of shock filled her eyes when she saw your bruised and swollen face. Enid insisted on checking you over again, but gave you the all clear after much expressed anger and concern. Maggie quickly carved out a space for you and Daryl to stay, close to the room she shared with baby Hershel in the big house up on the hill.

Your body had stiffened overnight and on the bike ride. Every movement caused aches and pains to shoot through you and Daryl was attentive and worried as you settled into your new home. When you settled into bed at first, Daryl kissed every part of you where he could see a bruise or injury. His fingers were light and gentle on your skin, and you were amazed as you always were that he could be so soft when he was so strong. Finally, the sun sank below the horizon and you were again laying side by side, your head tucked up under his chin, listening to the whoosh of air in his lungs and his steady heartbeat.

“I had an idea,” you said softly, breaking a long but comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Maybe when I’m all healed up, if—if it scars bad, I can get someone to do a tattoo over it to cover it up.”

Daryl smiled. You were already thinking ahead to the future, thinking of solutions. That was a good sign. He hugged you more tightly against him. “What would ya get?”

“I don’t know. Something pretty… to cover up something so ugly,” you mused aloud. “Like, there are these flowers that only bloom once in their lifetime and it can take decades to happen.”

“Nah, tha’s no good,” Daryl said quickly.

“What? Why?” you asked, looking up at him with surprise from beneath your lashes.

“It don’t fit ya. Yer bloomin’ all the time. Every day. Ya always have been, even when ya couldn’t see it,” he drawled. He pressed a kiss softly to your forehead.

You smiled at him sleepily.

“Was that too cheesy?” he asked with a gruff laugh.

“No. It was just the right amount,” you said. “Okay… maybe I’ll just get ‘Property of Daryl Dixon’,” you joked.

“No good. Ya ain’t nobody’s property. Ya belong only to yerself. ‘M just lucky that you share with me,” he said, his fingertips tracing vague shapes on the bare skin of your hip, exposed from the way your shirt had draped.

You sighed and nuzzled in against his neck. “I was only kidding,” you said, closing your eyes.

“I know. But it’s true.”

You yawned. “Maybe. But I do also belong to you, by my choice. I have since that night you fell through that rotten floor,” you said with a laugh. Daryl’s chest moved as he joined you with a low chuckle. In another minute, you were asleep. Daryl whispered ‘I love you’ into your hair, and shut his eyes too.

He meant what he’d said—he’d find whoever had hurt you and end them if he could, but after that, he wouldn’t allow the shadow of the past to dim another day. He’d walk with you forward, facing the sun in the same way you’d been doing together since the end of the war. And he hoped this time all of it, all the Saviors, The Sanctuary, the fear and pain, was really behind both of you.

#sacrifice #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl fanfic

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navybrat817 · 1 year

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Christmas Karma

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: Nick doesn't appreciate anyone pushing you around, especially when you're shopping. Word Count: Over 1.8k Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, threat of violence, implied explicit sexual content, swearing, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?) being a little grinchy, but we love him. A/N: I present to you lovelies my writing challenge fic and gift exchange for the Thot Neighborhood's Tis the Season to be Thot-y! @angrythingstarlight , I hope you enjoy your fic! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @sgt-seabass , but any and all mistakes are my own. Also thanks to @sweeterthanthis and @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog regarding this idea. Banner and moodboard by yours truly, divider by the wonderful @firefly-graphics , and prompts at the end of the fic. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Nick wasn't in the mood to be out and about today. He wondered if he could blame his grinchy mood on the cold, but the winter weather never bothered him. It was also a good excuse to keep you close. He could think of plenty of ways to warm you up and wanted to pull you back inside the minute the two of you left your home.

"Sweetheart," he grumbled. "Do we have to go shopping?"

He bought your gifts weeks ago and kept them in his office so you wouldn't find them. You asked him not to go overboard, but he couldn't help himself. You deserved to be spoiled and he couldn't wait to watch your face light up as you opened each gift.

He had a special gift saved for last.

"Nick, you promised," you reminded him when you tugged on his hand. "Just two small things and that's it."

Like him, you had your shopping done, even when he told you he had the one thing he wanted: you. Brushing that off with a giggle, you told him even the man who has everything deserves a present. Your gifts were always thoughtful. A last minute invitation to a neighbor's party, however, threw you for a loop. Not only did you insist on buying a gift for the hostess, but you needed to buy something for one of the games planned.

Which sparked a debate over whether to call the game "White Elephant" or "Rob Your Neighbor".

"Two things and we're really done?"

"That's it. We won't be out long," you smirked when he sighed. The look in your eyes made him want to drag you back inside more. "You can have me all to yourself when we're done. I'll even wear that little blue number you like when we have dinner as a thank you."

Nick ran his tongue along his bottom lip. It was one of the few pieces of lingerie he hadn't destroyed. Not because he couldn't afford it, but because you loved it as much as he did.

"We'll see if you can make it to dessert," you added.

"Tease," he whispered.

You both knew he'd have you bent over the table before the night was over.

All he had to do was make it through shopping.

"You sure this is a good idea?" he half joked as he watched a man fill up the trunk of his car with shopping bags.

"Yes," you smiled as you lightly hit his arm. "Even though I may have underestimated just how packed the parking lot would be."

He circled the lot twice to no avail and finally stopped when a nice guy waved him down and pointed to his car. The space was close to the door, too. Maybe they would be in and out quicker than he thought.

"Just for that, you should wear that new red number tomorrow," he suggested, giving the guy a nod as he backed out of the space and drove away. "My favorite next to the blue."

"See, now you're just looking for excuses to-"

Nick was about to turn into the parking spot when a red beamer nearly swiped his front bumper, drawing a gasp from you as he laid on his horn.

He didn't care that the prick almost hit him, but fuck anyone who scares his girl.

"Are you okay?" he asked, turning to look at you as you swallowed.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you assured him, reaching over to give his hand a squeeze. "Just wasn't expecting that. He came out of nowhere."

"He's lucky he didn't hit anyone," he said, bringing your hand to his mouth as the man got out.

Maybe it was his sour mood playing tricks on his mind, but he swore the smarmy asshole smirked at him before he headed toward the store.

Fucker. All I have to do is swerve and-

"Don't do anything," you said, as if you read his mind. "I don't mind walking. Besides, Christmas karma will get him."

He had to smile as you tried to make the best of the situation. "What exactly is 'Christmas karma'?"

"The brilliant and gorgeous Nick Fowler doesn't know what that is? Please, give me a moment to bask in this glory," you teased, making a show of closing your eyes and opening them again as he chuckled. You enjoyed stroking his ego. "It's karma, but it's wrapped in a pretty bow."

"I prefer you in a pretty bow," he winked.

"You're getting the blue number and possibly the red. Don't push it," you smiled.

He chuckled before he drove to the front of the store. "And I'm not making you walk," he said, putting the flashers on before he got out and went around to your door. "You go ahead. I'll find a spot."

You stopped to give him a kiss once he helped you out of the car. "Thank you. I'll see you inside."

That Christmas karma you mentioned must have been on Nick's side as he was able to find a spot a minute later.

His good deed for not running that prick over.

You messaged Nick to let him know which section you went to as he went inside to find you. He managed to bite his tongue as he dodged people who thought walking with their carts in the middle of the aisle was normal. You would have been proud that he kept his opinion to himself.

He smiled to himself when he saw you carefully looking through one of the shelves, one gift in your hand. The more he thought about it, the more he thought part of his bad mood had to do with the fact that it wasn't Christmas yet. He began to second guess if proposing that day was the right decision. He had complete confidence in the ring. One of a kind and crafted to perfection, just like you. He just didn't want a holiday proposal to be too cliche.

He meant what he said that you were the only thing he wanted for Christmas.

The smile slipped off his face as you reached for a box on the shelf, only to be bumped by the large guy standing beside you. The motion was too rough not to be an accident, but you managed to hold onto the gift as you found your footing. His eyes narrowed as he got a better look at the man who had the nerve to touch you.

It was the asshole who almost hit his car.

A special kind of asshole who apparently liked to shove women out of the way to get what they want.

"Excuse me," you said politely, even though the push wasn't your fault.

"Yeah, excuse you. You wanna hand that over? Now?" the guy snapped, trying to take the box as you pulled it out of his reach.

"No, I don't. I'm sorry," you said, frowning as he blocked your path.

"I was reaching for it and you snatched it. Give it to me," he said, putting his hand out.

Nick saw red as he padded across the floor, a few people moving out of his way. You once told him he had a murderous expression when pushed to that point. With his broad shoulders and fury flashing in his blue eyes, he was sure he looked like he was going to go on a rampage.

He should have just hit the guy earlier and been done with it.

You put your chin up as the man tried to grab the box again. "There are plenty of other gifts you can find," you said, an edge of annoyance creeping into your voice. "Please, excuse me."

"Bitch, give me that-"

"Step away from my wife."

You inhaled sharply at the deadly calm in Nick's voice. He didn't like to shout unless he had to, but the deep, quiet tone wasn't a good sign for anyone on the receiving end. Up close, the guy was smaller than him and all bark.

Or maybe the deadly look of his rendered him speechless momentarily.

"Or what? She took my gift," he accused.

"And you took my parking space," Nick lifted one shoulder in a bored shrug. "I memorized your license plate, by the way. I'm curious if I have someone run your plates if anything would come up. You seem like an 'outstanding parking tickets' kind of guy. Maybe worse. Would be a shame to ruin your holiday."

Even if he had a clear record, he could pay someone off to teach him a lesson.

But the way the color drained from the guy's face, he was in some kind of trouble. "She can keep it."

"You'll pay for it. Both gifts as a way to say you're sorry," Nick demanded, his voice low. "And anything else she wants in this store."

"Just these," you said with a smile before you thought about it. "Oh. And maybe a small donation to them," you added, nodding toward a group in Santa hats near the front of the store.

"Oh, god. Not the carol singers," the man grumbled. "I'd rather punch them."

Nick kind of understood where he was coming from. He grew tired of the same songs after hearing them over and over. But if that was what you wanted, he'd make it happen.

"Nick, you sure you don't want to call the station?" you asked innocently.

"Okay, okay. The gifts and a donation to the carolers. Happy?"

"Very happy," you said as Nick slipped an arm around your waist. "It's the season of giving and we appreciate it."

"Go to the counter. Now," Nick ordered.

You muffled your laughter as the guy took off, both of you following close behind. "You're really making him pay for these? We have the money."

"It's the principle. He's lucky I didn't shoot him for treating you the way he did."

He was still considering it.

"Well, thank you for not killing him. As much as I support you and your endeavors, committing a crime like that in public could get you into trouble and I don't want to spend Christmas alone," you smiled before you cleared your throat. "You called me your wife."

"I did," he said. It slipped out before he could stop himself. "And I didn't hear you correcting me."

"Because it felt nice to hear," you smiled, stopping him before you got to the counter. "But I do need a ring on my finger."

"Maybe Santa will bring you one," he teased.

"Maybe I'll say 'yes'," you said, glancing above your heads where mistletoe hung. "And I think my future husband deserves a kiss before we go home."

He placed a soft and tender kiss on your lips. Maybe a Christmas proposal wouldn't be so cliche after all. Like you said, it was the season of giving and he wanted to give you all of him.

And in the spirit of giving, he wouldn't call the cops until after the holiday to run the plates.

Maybe they'd even put a bow on the warrant.

Hope you lovelies enjoyed this holiday treat. Love and thanks for reading!

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x female reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #tis the season to be thot-y #the thot neighbourhood

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zelinkcommunity · 5 months

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LOFTWING LETTERS 2024

DISCORD | TWITTER

What is Loftwing Letters?

A low-pressure Valentines-themed gift exchange! You will create a valentine for someone and receive a valentine from someone else.

You can sign up using this Google Form (closed). Signups will close on January 11 and your match will be sent on January 14. All gifts will be posted on Valentines Day, February 14! (If you have conflicts with the posting date, let an admin know and we can work something out!)

Valentines don’t need to be Zelink-related, but they should be Zelda-related!

This event is mainly being held in our Discord server: please join here! (Though we will accommodate participants who aren’t server members.)

We will also reblog Loftwing Letters content on this blog! Make sure to mention this account (@zelinkcommunity) and tag your valentine with #loftwingletters24 so we can reblog it.

What can I create and receive?

For this event, you can create/receive art, writing, and music. Your match will indicate specifics.

Writing should be 500-1500 words long.

Art should be a doodle/sketch, and coloring is up to the artist.

Music should be one minute or less.

These are loose guidelines; going a little bit over is okay. We want the event to be low-pressure, simple, and fun for everybody, which is why we set these guidelines.

Can I create/receive NSFW content?

Yes, if the gifter/giftee indicates it’s okay. We will try our best to match NSFW-comfortable people with NSFW-comfortable people and vice versa.

We will also be reblogging Loftwing Letters entries. In this case, our regular NSFW rules apply:

We will reblog NSFW content as long as it is properly tagged/censored below the read more line.

NSFW is anything that contains nudity and implications of/explicit sexual content, and extreme violence/gore.

If you’re unsure if your content counts as NSFW, contact our staff team and we can review it. (Generally, if you have to ask, it probably is.)

However, we reserve the right to not reblog NSFW content if we feel uncomfortable doing so.

If I have questions, who can I ask?

If you have questions regarding the person you’re gifting, please contact a mod/admin. We don’t want to ruin the surprise of who is gifting who early, and we are happy to ask any questions on your (anonymous) behalf.

For general questions, please send us an ask here on Tumblr!

#loftwingletters24 #loftwing letters 2024 #loftwing letters #zelinkcommunity #zelink community #zelink #zelda #the legend of zelda #loz #botw #oot #tp #gift exchange #totk

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borathae · 1 year

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↳ Index [Chapter 10 - Party]

Warnings: sexual harassment by a stranger, he gets what he deserves though, violence, sub!Reader, Dom!Taehyung, making out & dry humping on the dance floor, then there is: subby!Tae & Dom!Jimin with dry humping & cumming in pants, and then on a separate occasion: Dom!Jimin & sub!Reader, public sex in a club bathroom, thigh riding, sloppy making out, he fucks her against the sink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampies, dirty talk, choking & breath play, he calls her a needy slut at some parts, he is a cocky bastard and we love him, questionable blood drinking sjdjsj, this chapter goes from cute to hot to creepy to okay hot to Jimin nO

Wordcount: 19.3k (listen there is so much plot & thirst hahaha)

a/n: listen. he. does things to me. i am both scared and aroused. lmao please help.

Yoongi and Jungkook are out hunting tonight. They took Hoseok with them. Seokjin and Emma are in their room. Their door is locked and if one decided to be a creep, one could hear certain sounds coming from inside. You take a huge step back once you realise what those grunts meant, apologizing quietly even if you are sure they didn’t even notice your presence.

You huff out air. Well there goes your plan for a fun board game evening with them.

“They deserve to have two on two time though”, you murmur, turning afterwards to make your way down the hallway, “I guess we have to make do with three players.”

You wanted to ask the gang if they were in the mood for games and some wine. Just moments ago, you finished the book you were reading the past week and started to feel rather bored in your room, while a board game evening started to sound like the perfect way to spend your evening. Emma and Seokjin are obviously out of the equation now and you hope that at least Jimin or Taehyung agree on playing a game.

You knock on Jimin’s room first because it is the one you pass by first.

He opens after a moment and like always, he wears nothing more than a towel. His hair is wet and the smell of shampoo is entering the hallway. It carries Taehyung’s scent in it. He was nice enough to borrow Jimin a bottle of it as Jimin obviously had no toiletry. Jimin and Taehyung went back to Thea earlier today to get Jimin’s very few belongings. However, a bottle of shampoo was not part of it, hence why Jimin now smells like Taehyung.

“What do you want?” he asks you, running his eyes up and down your body.

“Hey to you too”, you say, studying him.

“Hey”, he says, “what do you want? I’m a little busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“Washing my hair obviously?” he says and scoffs, “what else do you think I’m doing?”

“I think it looks good already”, you say, reaching out to tug a strand of it behind his ear.

He eyes your hand, “thanks.”

“You must admit, it’s nice having a warm shower again, isn’t it?” you say.

“I guess,” he says and nudges your hand away, “listen, what do you want?” he asks, sounding tired.

“Do you want to play board games?”

He scoffs condescendingly, “why should I play board games?”

You must admit, even if Jimin’s better than everything attitude is annoying at times, it is nice to know that he is getting some of it back again. Reuniting with Taehyung really gave him back some of his spark. You can also see it in the way his dark eye circles seem to have magically disappeared ever since he has Taehyung in his life again.

You shrug your shoulders, “don’t know. I’ll ask Tae as well. It’s just the three of us, maybe we could bond a little.”

Jimin grinds his teeth, studying your features. For a moment you think that he will throw the door closed on you, until he sighs dramatically. He rolls his eyes to the point you fear they will get stuck.

“Just tell me what Tae’s saying and then I’ll decide”, he says, closing the door on you right after. Seconds later you can hear R&B music playing and the sound of a blow dryer.

“Okay. Will do”, you murmur, leaving after giving his door one aggressive nudge, “rude. Don’t close the door on me.”

And so you continue your way to Taehyung’s room, hoping that he will say yes.

Taehyung doesn’t open the door, but calls out for you when you knock. So you enter, inhaling deeply. Goddamn, his room smells nice. Acrylic paints and his terribly expensive cologne with a hint of red wine. This is him. This is Taehyung on a good day. Expensive, artistice and sexy. You really missed this smell.

“Hello, my darling”, he says.

“Hey.”

“What brings you here?”

“I finished my book.”

“You did? Well, that’s wonderful to hear. How did you enjoy it?”

“It was nice. The ending felt a little rushed, but I think it still ended nicely.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

He is sitting on the floor, surrounded by his paints and wearing his painting clothes. No wonder he couldn’t get up, you have to do an entire gymnastics routine to make your way to him. You plop down on his lap.

“Oh? Hello there”, he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Hey”, you say, resting your cheek on his shoulder, “what are you doing?”

“Just painting a little. I had some inspiration”, he answers you whilst giving you the softest of nibbles with his teeth. It tickles just enough to make you shiver, “mhm darling, you smell so nice”, he says, “are you wearing perfume?”

“A little.”

“It’s very nice”, he says, rubbing his nose against your neck. A soft kiss follows.

With your eyes closed, you speak.

“It's the perfume you got me.”

“Last year for the masquerade ball?”

“Yes, that one. I really like it.”

“Mhhm I like it too��, Taehyung whispers, inhaling deeply. His long fingers give your hips a gentle squeeze, letting you know that he was affected by your scent.

“It's almost empty though”, you sigh the words. His touches and soft kisses felt too good not to.

“That is no problem. I will buy you a new one.”

“Thank you, Tae”, you say, twirling his hair at the back of his head, “hey, Tae?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you want to play some board games?”

“Board games? Are the others going to join us as well?”

“No, they already left.”

“Left for what?”

“Yoongi and Kookie are hunting and Hobi joined them.”

“I see. Well, that is a shame. I would have loved to join them too”, Taehyung says and huffs out air.

You lean in and kiss his cheek, “see it as something positive. We’ve got the house to ourselves.”

Taehyung’s pout turns into a mischievous grin. He drops his paintbrush, lifting you in his lap so he could place you down on it high enough so you were face to face with him. He runs his hands up and down your back, lingering on your butt ever so often.

“Well, if you put it like that, perhaps I should be glad that they didn’t tell me”, he says, fluttering his lashes at you playfully, “what do you want to play? Strip poker, mhm? But I should warn you, I am going to use my teeth to undress you.”

You giggle, “that could be fun, couldn’t it?”

“Yes. Very”, he says, inching closer.

“But I don’t know if Jimin would be down for it.”

Taehyung halts.

“Jimin is here as well?”

“Yes, he’s washing his hair. I thought maybe we could play games together? The three of us?”

“You would want that?”

“Yes. I think that it could be fun.”

“Oh darling”, Taehyung smiles so brightly, that you’re glad you asked him, “that would make me so happy”, he says and stands up with you in his arms.

“Gosh Tae, don’t surprise me like that”, you say, giggling when he bounces you in his arms and leaves the room just like that, “are you going to carry me to his room?”

“Yes, of course. You shouldn’t have to walk.”

“Ah so silly.”

Taehyung snickers and kisses your cheek.

Jimin opens the door after the second knock.

“Geez. Are you serious?” he groans, “why you gotta be so cringe?”

“Be quiet”, Taehyung says, bouncing you in his arms to tighten his grip, “do you want to play games with us?”

Jimin studies the two of you and gives in with a loud sigh, “fine, just let me change into pants.”

“Of course. We are in the kitchen. Come join us.”

And with that said, he descends the stairs and Jimin closes the door to change into pants.

Taehyung places you on the kitchen counter, feeling up your thighs while between your hips not even a feather could fit through.

“You truly smell so good”, he says, “oh darling, I can’t get enough of you.”

“Tae”, you giggle as he nuzzles his face into you, “why are you so snuggly today? Are you hungry?”

“A little. Can I have you later?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

Taehyung purrs, squeezing your thigh.

“Please?” he tries, making you chuckle.

“We’ll see about it once you made me cum.”

“Deal. Oh, you’ve got yourself a deal”, he says, rolling his hips into you.

A sigh runs through you.

“So about that strip poker you were talking about?”

Taehyung chuckles, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“Did I tempt you?”

“Maybe a little? It could be hot.”

“Yes? Do you want to play it?”

“No.”

You both look at the doorway.

“If guys are going to play strip poker, I am leaving. I’m not in the mood to watch you guys crawl up each others’ asses.”

“You are no fun, Jimin. Aren’t you basically undressed already?” you say, pointing at his naked torso.

“This?” he looks down at himself, “honey, that’s me being dressed, I don’t know what you’re on about.”

You scoff, jumping off the kitchen counter.

“Don’t worry though, we’re not gonna play strip poker”, you run your eyes up and down his body, “you are not seeing my tits tonight.”

“Trust me, I didn’t plan on doing that either way.”

Taehyung snickers, then throws his arms over both your and Jimin’s shoulders.

“Oh you two, tonight is going to be fun”, he says, dragging you to the dining table, “what should we play first?”

“Anything but strip poker.”

“Fine, then normal poker. The loser has to take a shot.”

“Or we could actually go out”, Jimin suggests, “like good old times.”

“Oh? A night out?” Taehyung gasps, turning to you, “would you be interested in going out with us?” he asks you.

“Yes, I think that could be fun”, you say.

“Oh how wonderful. Let’s get ready then”, Taehyung says and lets out a squeaky giggle, taking your hand to tug you upstairs, “I have the perfect clothes for going out. Oh, I’m so excited.”

“Wait. What? Tae I don’t even have clothes for it”, Jimin complains, getting dragged along with Taehyung.

“That is okay. I have something for you”, Taehyung assures him, “darling, do you need something too? I have clothes that you could like.”

“You packed clothes for me?”

“I purchased them in Geneva, but never got the chance to give them to you.”

He flusters you.

“You did? Oh darling, please show me”, you gush, feeling oh so happy.

The clothes turn out to be the matching piece to Taehyung’s outfit. A black turtleneck with its sleeves missing and the back exposed. Black sequins adorn the fabric and a matching black bra keeps the top from slipping to places it wasn’t supposed to slip. Tight jeans reach you on the smallest part of your waist, accentuating your curves with the help of a delicate black belt. Taehyung matches with a black sequin top and leather pants, highlighting the look with a red leather jacket. He looks to die for and you feel beautiful.

Jimin hasn’t decided on an outfit yet, currently eyeing every piece of clothing Taehyung presents to him with slight judgment.

“How about this?” Taehyung offers, holding a black leather harness against Jimin’s torso, “you would look so handsome in this.”

“No. Fuck off with that. It’s ugly”, Jimin hisses, pushing at Taehyung’s chest.

This is the fifth piece of clothing he rejected.

Taehyung stumbles back, staring at Jimin with widened eyes.

“What’s wrong? Why are you so angry all of a sudden?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t like your clothes”, Jimin says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Taehyung lowers his hands sadly, running his eyes up and down Jimin’s torso.

“But why? You look really handsome in them”, he says with a pout.

Jimin scoffs.

"I don’t like it, okay?" he hisses.

“Okay, that’s okay. I have something else. Give me a moment, please”, Taehyung says, dropping the harness to instead look for something else, “do you want to look more modern or classic? I could offer you a sheer top, which still shows off your chest.”

“I don’t want to go out anymore”, Jimin says.

“What?” Taehyung gasps, getting up from looking through his suitcase to stare at Jimin, “but why? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I just. I don’t want to go out anymore.”

“I have this v-neck shirt. Do you want to try this? It shows off skin as well.”

“No. I don’t want to.”

Taehyung closes his mouth and stares. He fumbles with his fingers.

“Why?” he asks in a whisper.

“Because. That’s why.”

“Okay?” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, “is it the clothes?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung looks sad.

“I don’t…”, Jimin takes a deep breath, “I don’t want to show my chest in public.”

“Oh.”

Taehyung’s eyes flit to the silver mark. Yours do as well. Jimin covers it with his hand instantly. He lowers his head.

“Fuck, this is so fucking stupid. You are both so annoying”, he spits and tries to flee.

Taehyung holds his hands before he can, pulling them to his chest and holding them hostage right where his heart was once beating.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I have shirts which will cover you”, he says.

“You do?” Jimin asks nervously.

“Of course I do. Stay and let me show you and, and if you still don’t like them, then you can leave. Please?”

Jimin nods his head. Taehyung turns and hurries to his suitcase. He looks for a fitting shirt for a few moments before he exclaims in victory. He pulls out a black button up with a loose fit and a black leather corset.

“Pair this shirt with this corset and you will look very handsome”, he says excitedly, hurrying back to Jimin. He hesitates, looking into Jimin’s eyes, “can I put it on for you?”

“I guess.”

Jimin stares at Taehyung’s face as the latter puts on the button up. His jaw is tight, but his eyes are soft. Taehyung runs his hands up Jimin’s arms and gives his shoulders a soft squeeze.

“The shoulders are a little too long”, he says.

“I don’t mind”, Jimin answers him.

Taehyung nods his head in understanding and slips his hands under the shirt. You can watch how Jimin’s chest lifts in a deep gasp. A squirm follows as Taehyung brushes his thumb over the silver mark.

“I think”, Taehyung whispers, “I think you look beautiful.”

Jimin exhales shakily, biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling. Their eyes meet.

“I don’t think you should hide. It is a reminder that you survived”, Taehyung says, “in my eyes”, he adds, lifting his brows in unsure nervousness.

Jimin places his fingers around Taehyung’s wrists and nods his head.

“You’re a dreamer, Taetae”, he says, removing Taehyung’s hands and placing them on his own chest, “thank you for the shirt. I like it a lot. I’ll style it and come back”, he says and turns to disappear in the bathroom.

Taehyung wipes his balled fist over his eyes and turns to you.

“Hah”, he lets out, blinking the glassiness away, “forgive me”, he clears his throat.

“Are you okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, taking big steps to get to you.

“Come. Let us look at ourselves in the mirror.”

“Okay. Let’s do that.”

The clothes are perfect for you, fitting you as if they were made for you. Taehyung places his hands on your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder, looking at you in the reflection of the mirror.

“How do you feel?” he asks you.

“Really sexy. I like that it shows off my back and there”, you point at your exposed side, “I like this part a lot.”

Taehyung hums, turning his head to brush his lips over your neck in a kiss.

“I think you look like a goddess”, he whispers.

You sigh, placing your hands over his to give them a gentle squeeze. Taehyung lifts his gaze, giving you a playful smile.

“So you enjoy the clothes?” he asks.

“I love them”, you whisper, “Tae.”

“Yes, darling?”

“Your touch is nice.”

He smiles, “you are so beautiful. I won’t ever get enough of you”, he says, kissing your shoulder, “close your eyes, I have something else for you.”

“Okay.”

You wait for him with a fluttering heart.

Taehyung places something around your neck. It brushes your skin in a soft touch, making you gasp in reaction. It must be a necklace as Taehyung is closing something in the back, brushing his fingertips over your neck as gently as possible.

“Open your eyes”, he whispers.

It is a necklace. A golden heart locket on a delicate chain.

“Tae”, you gasp, touching it gently, “Tae, this is beautiful.”

“Open it”, he says, fingers resting on your waist and nervous eyes watching you.

You do as he told you. A strand of dark hair reveals itself to you.

“Is that?”

“It’s my hair”, Taehyung’s nervousness grows, “I want you to know that how I acted these past few weeks, it…it wasn’t who I wanted to be and I am ashamed of what I did and the awful things I said to you. I know it isn’t much, but I hope that this strand of hair can show you that you will always have a piece of me and that I love you”, he widens his eyes adorably, “most ardently.”

You close the locket to make sure the strand of hair will always stay safe. Then you turn, placing your hands at the back of his head. Taehyung’s eyes race between yours, his breathing is quickened.

“I love you too”, you say, playing with his hair slowly, “I know how much you had going on, so I know why you weren’t really yourself lately. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Do you really mean that?” he asks.

“Yes”, you cup his cheeks, “I’m so happy that you are finally starting to heal.”

Taehyung exhales shakily, shedding millions pounds of burden with this one single breath. He begins smiling, eyes sparkling in happy adoration.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

You pull him close, answering him by kissing his lips with all the love in the world. Taehyung sighs, chasing you with his trembling hands resting on your lower back and his lips allowing you to guide him. He hasn’t felt such relief and happiness in ages. To kiss you, knowing that all was well in the world and most importantly between you and him, feels like paradise to his gradually healing heart. He is aware that you never judged him for the twisted ways his grief forced him to act and yet he will never find the words to tell you just how grateful he is for your forgiveness. He will never take your loving heart for granted, promising you with the sweetest kiss that from now on he will make sure to carry it in his hands safely.

You break the kiss too soon for his taste, making him sigh for one more.

“Please”, he breathes, cupping your cheek and brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek, “don’t stop.”

“Oh Tae”, you sigh, pulling him into the kiss he craves with all his heart. Taehyung thanks you with a sweet moan and his fingers tightening on your cheek in desperate gratitude. It feels good to kiss Taehyung now that his heart has been unburdened from grief. He kisses you back as if he wanted it to happen and not because he thought it necessary to do. You have no selfish intent behind that joy, instead you are happy knowing that Taehyung feels relieved enough to finally enjoy the sweeter things of life again.

The kiss breaks not because you wanted it to happen, neither because Taehyung wanted to stop, but because the door to the bathroom opened and Jimin entered the bedroom. You and Taehyung look at him, but stay close, hands still connected with the other’s body.

Jimin wears black pants to his shirt and has his hair styled out of his face. Dark eye makeup accentuates the intensity of his gaze and translucent lip gloss makes his plumb lips shine.

“Look at you. You look stunning, Jimin”, Taehyung gasps, scanning over his best friend’s body from head to toe.

“You really do. That corset fits you so well”, you say, nodding your head in agreement.

“I know”, Jimin answers you confidently.

Taehyung closes the distance between him and Jimin to study his face.

“Did you put make-up on?”

“Of course I did. I look good in it. What are you looking at? Do you want it too?”

Taehyung shakes his head, lifting his shoulders to his ears shyly.

“It wouldn’t fit me.”

“Oh come now, don’t be ridiculous”, Jimin says and pushes Taehyung on the bed.

His back hits the mattress, eliciting a surprised gasp from him. Within seconds, Jimin is straddling his lap, now pinning him down with nothing but a look.

“Stay still”, he orders.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung hushes.

“Your make-up.”

“But I don’t-”

Jimin pins him down.

“Stay still, Tae. Your face’s made for it.”

Taehyung tries to stay still, staring up at Jimin with big eyes until it is time for him to close them as Jimin dances his make-up brush over his lids skilfully.

It is truly the most peculiar scene to watch. They seem so familiar with the situation. As if such occurrences are normal in their friendship. And it is truly peculiar, because Jimin somehow seems to fit so well on Taehyung’s lap. Sitting on him in the perfect spots as if muscle memory made him choose the right place.

“Stop fluttering your lashes, Tae”, he speaks softly.

“But it tickles”, Taehyung answers him and his voice sounds different than when he talks to other people. You can’t describe it. It just does. It sounds a little higher, maybe more innocent. As if a boy was talking to someone he looks up to.

“I know. It’s because you are always moving your eyes. You have to stay still.”

“I can’t help it, you’re so rough.”

“I’m not, you crybaby.”

Taehyung opens his eyes, locking them with Jimin. You can watch how his hands, once resting on the mattress, find rest on Jimin’s thighs. Jimin, ever so roughly, grabs Taehyung’s chin to move his head from left to right as he inspects his work.

“You look handsome.”

“Did you use glitter?”

“Yeah of course I did. Like always.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll do the other eye now. So close them.”

Taehyung follows, parting his lips in relaxation while Jimin mixes and blends the most beautiful shades of gold and red on his lid.

So they did it before. Their dialogue was proof enough. This isn’t the first time they find themselves in such a situation. It makes you wonder just how far their friendship goes and how blurry those lines between them truly are. The more you get to watch them in the privacy of four walls and solitude, the blurrier they seem to you. Perhaps however this is what centuries of companionship does. Two souls connecting in unidentifiable ways, but with the only purpose to stay together because they were meant to do so.

Taehyung dances his hands up Jimin’s thighs then, letting them linger on his hips before touching his waist. Fabric lies between his fingers and Jimin’s torso and yet, they both squirm as if he touched naked skin.

“Ah crap”, Jimin curses, licking his pinkie finger so he can clean off the falsely placed eye shadow.

“It’s my lid again, isn’t it?” Taehyung asks.

“Mhm-hm yeah. I always forget it’s different than your left and mess up”, Jimin speaks slowly as his concentration is on getting the look right. He licks his pointer finger, using his spit to wipe off the last remainders of his mistake.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s difficult to get right.”

“Don’t apologise, you have the most perfect eyes.”

Taehyung opens them.

“Keep them closed. “

And closes them, gripping Jimin’s hips with slight desperation. Truly, it fascinates you. You feel so out of place here, so forbidden. As if you are an unknowing bystander stumbling into a scene which was never meant to be shared with anyone except Taehyung and Jimin.

Jimin paints again. He goes slow, keeping minimal distance between their faces to see better. Taehyung’s hands run down Jimin’s thighs again, changing course once he reaches his knees. They disappear from your view, but you know that they are travelling up Jimin’s inner thighs. It makes the latter move his hips back and forth before his left hand disappears between his legs. In a rough movement he has Taehyung’s hands pinned above his head.

“Don’t get greedy”, he rasps.

Taehyung mewls.

“I’m not done with your look. You’re such a whore.”

“I’m not a whore.”

“Sure you are, you’ve always been one and will always be one.”

Taehyung opens his eyes to send Jimin a look. You can’t distinguish if it is supposed to be angry or innocent.

“You’re a whore too.”

“I know”, Jimin smirks, “now close your eyes. I’m almost done, just have to do the eyeliner.”

Taehyung closes his eyes.

“Are you going to do a colour?”

“I was going to do black. But do you want me to do a colour?”

“Yes, do a colour.”

“I’ll do red then. Red suits you.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.”

“Red suits you too.”

“I know. You look better though.”

“No, you do.”

Jimin chuckles.

Taehyung chuckles too. He touches Jimin’s thighs again, keeping his hands still.

Jimin parts his lips then, giving view to the tip of his tongue as he gets lost in concentration. He doesn’t want to mess up, holding Taehyung’s face between his strong fingers just so the latter wouldn’t accidentally move it and mess up his artwork.

“I did the left one perfectly”, he says, “now I just have to do the right one the same way.”

“You can do it, you’ve always had a talent for it.”

“I know. Now, stay still Tae.”

“I am”, Taehyung breathes.

Jimin works diligently, finishing off the wing with a click of his tongue and a proud smirk. He sits up, putting his weight on Taehyung’s lap. Then he closes the eyeliner, throwing it on the mattress next to his eyeshadow palette.

“Stay still, I have to dry it”, he orders and leans in, puckering his lips so he could blow on Taehyung’s lids.

The latter parts his lips, touching Jimin’s hips and giving them an almost greedy squeeze.

You can hear how Jimin blows on him. The sound is confident in the room, almost drowning out the sounds of outside traffic and people getting drunk on the streets. Which was most impossible to imagine as those sounds were scientifically louder in nature, but still somehow that gentle sound of blowing filled up the entire room. It was weighed with intimacy. With familiarity. With moments so well known they became a routine. And because it carried so much with it, it managed to overpower the louder sounds from outside.

Jimin stops blowing, straightening up and shifting his weight back on Taehyung’s lap with a smooth roll of his hips. He places his hands on Taehyung’s chest then, distributing his weight between his lap and his torso. Then he arches his back just slightly, using the new position to stick out his ass.

“All done”, he says.

Taehyung flutters his eyes open, looking up at Jimin with his painted eyelids and his naked lips still parted. Jimin studies his face, rocking his body back and forth. It changes the point of where most of his weight was put on rhythmically.

“Actually”, he says, “I feel like you need something on your lips.”

Jimin disappears in the bathroom, but returns a second later with a bag of make-up. He sits down on Taehyung’s lap, choosing a higher-up position than last time.

You can watch how Taehyung parts his lips in a silent gasp and how his eyes seem to widen just slightly. You know exactly where he must have sat down. Oh truly, the lines are getting blurrier and blurrier.

Jimin seems unaffected however, rummaging around in his bag until he finds what he deems worthy. He pulls out a golden tube and places the black bag beside Taehyung’s head.

“What’s that?” Taehyung asks.

“Lipgloss. The one with golden shimmer in it”, Jimin says, grabbing Taehyung’s chin to keep his head steady.

“But I’ll just rub it off.”

“Then I’ll reapply it for you.”

“Jimin, it’s so much work.”

“No, it’s not. I’ll do it for you.”

Taehyung looks at Jimin.

“Trust me, you’ll look handsome in it.”

Taehyung seems to relax, keeping his lips in a position that would allow Jimin to apply the gloss. He finishes off by wiping away the spots where he messed up, wiping it into the sheets afterwards.

“Now you’re done.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, you look handsome. Do you want to see?”

Taehyung nods his head.

Jimin reaches for a hand mirror and lifts it to Taehyung’s face. Taehyung reaches for it, placing his hands over Jimin’s to keep the mirror steady. He moves his head left and right, fluttering his lashes and puckering his lips.

“And?”

“I like it.”

“Yeah? Do you think you’re handsome?”

“Yes, I look really handsome.”

“I know”, Jimin lowers the mirror and reaches out to give Taehyung’s left cheek a soft pinch, “you look really handsome.”

Taehyung giggles, lifting his shoulders to his ears. Jimin shows his teeth in a smile.

“Why are you laughing?” he asks.

“It’s nothing”, Taehyung covers his face with his hands.

“Hey, don’t”, Jimin warns, pinning his hands next to his head, “you’ll rub the make-up off.”

“I’m sorry”, Taehyung whispers, closing his fingers around Jimin’s hands.

Silence. Their eyes race between each other. They take a shaky breath. Their fingers squeeze each other.

“Taehyung, I”, Jimin begins in a whispers.

“Yes?” Taehyung breathes.

“I just…”

“Yes, Jimin?”

“I…I think we should go now before it gets too crowded.”

“Yes, I think that is a good idea.”

Jimin gets off Taehyung’s lap, shifting his gaze to you. His hand falls to the side of his neck, his eyes break away again.

“I’m getting a cab”, he says, hurrying out of the room in big steps.

Taehyung sits up, touching his chest. He smiles, squeezing his eyes shut and giggling quietly. He lifts his head when he feels your finger under his chin.

“You look so handsome”, you say, lighting up his eyes.

He stands up, holding your wrists gently.

“I’m happy”, he confesses.

“I’m happy too, my darling.”

“I'm really happy”, he says and you know the deeper meaning behind this sentence.

“Me too, my darling”, you say and smile.

Taehyung giggles, “oh, I can’t wait for tonight. We will have so much fun.”

“I think so as well”, you say, “should we check if Jimin managed to get a cab?”

“Yes, let us check.”

Jimin is already outside by a car, looking stressed.

“Hurry up”, he calls out and waves at you, holding open the door to the cab he managed to successfully call.

You and Taehyung increase your steps, holding hands as you cross the street.

“You were successful”, you say as you get into the cab.

“I was”, Jimin says, waiting for Taehyung to get inside as well before he does the same. He closes the door and after Taehyung tells the driver the name of the club, the cab drives off.

Taehyung claimed the middle seat, spreading his legs and throwing his arm over your shoulder.

“I am so excited for tonight”, he says, “this is the first time you are partying with us, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is.”

“Oh, you will love it. We are so much fun.”

“I can imagine. Did you guys go to parties in the past?”

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look, cracking up at the same time.

“Too many times to count. We were mad back then”, Taehyung snickers, nudging Jimin with his knee, “he loved to get high.”

“I still do”, Jimin says nonchalantly.

“Yes? Are you hoping to get lucky tonight?”

“Maybe. Let’s see what the night brings.”

“Hobi told me that you can only really get high through blood drinking”, you say.

“Indeed. But worry not, Jimin is in perfect control.”

“Hah yeah”, Jimin says, touching the side of his neck, “control’s not a problem for me.”

“See? So don't bug your mind with it, darling”, Taehyung assures you, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “maybe I can get lucky as well, mhm?”

“Tae not here”, you whisper, flustering vigorously.

“Mhm”, Taehyung hums and chuckles, leaving one lasting kiss on your neck before he straightens up again.

“You guys blood share?” Jimin asks, eyeing you.

“We do. Oh Jimin, she tastes so good.”

“I know”, Jimin says and for just a second the silence is awkward between the three of you.

Taehyung is the one to break it, laughing loudly.

“I completely forgot that you tasted her before. Oh dear, thank the heavens that we escaped this situation.”

Jimin smiles lazily, “yeah, totally”, he says, glancing at you.

It is awkward at first, but in the end you both end up chuckling. The air feels light again.

“I partied with Fringella a few weeks ago”, Taehyung says.

“You did? That must have gone splendidly”, Jimin says, cocking his right eyebrow up.

“It went how you imagine it to go. I got way too high”, Taehyung says and laughs.

Jimin chuckles, caressing Taehyung’s neck.

“You're so reckless, Taetae. Fringella’s not good company to get high with.”

“Certainly?” Taehyung looks at Jimin with widened eyes, “it surprises me to hear such words from you.”

“Yeah, I think dying made me boring. I think Fringella’s orgies would piss me off these days.”

“No, I don’t think they would. You just aren’t used to them anymore.”

“No Taetae, they would”, Jimin insists, playing with Taehyung’s hair, “I don’t like you seeing with Fringella. She isn’t good for you.”

Taehyung blinks in confusion. It is obvious that he didn’t expect Jimin to be so caring.

“I don’t know what to say”, he confesses in a whisper.

“Don’t say anything. It’s fucking stupid either way”, Jimin says, turning away, “you should be with me, not with assholes.”

“Are you jealous?” Taehyung asks, leaning closer until he can hug Jimin’s waist. Like this, he is pressing his butt into the side of your thigh.

“You know I am”, Jimin doesn’t feel the need to hide away.

“No Jimin, don’t be. Fringella’s nothing but temporary fun. She always has been. You know that, don’t you?”

“I guess” Jimin murmurs.

“Good. Don’t forget that”, Taehyung says and straightens back up. He turns to you, taking your hand. He leads it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. The gesture is sweet and makes you feel good.

The club is located a twenty minute drive from the apartment. The bouncer lets you inside right away after seeing Jimin.

“It has been ages hasn’t it?” he greets his old friend to which Jimin tells him that it has only been two years.

“Does he know you guys?”

“Yes, we spent countless nights in this club”, Taehyung tells you, keeping you close to him with a hand on your lower back. The touch feels nice because it lets you know that he was there even in this stuffy, busy club.

The club is dark inside except for the colourful neon lights illuminating the dance floor. Smoke from the smoke machines hangs heavy in the air, hiding the face of strangers from your view. You draw closer to Taehyung. He wraps his arm around you instantly, pressing you into him and making you feel so incredibly safe. It also feels really empowering to walk with him like that. People stare and they stare for a reason because Taehyung looks to die for. So knowing that you are the woman by his side feels incredible.

Jimin circles you so he is facing you and Taehyung. You step closer so you can hear him over the loud music.

“I’ll get the drinks. Any wishes?”

“I’ll take what Tae takes.”

“I’ll take what you take, Jimin”, Taehyung says to which Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Three Cosmos then”, he says and turns to disappear in the crowd.

“Come”, Taehyung says, taking your hands, “shall we dance?”

“Yes, I’d love to”, you tell him, allowing him to lead you to the middle of the dance floor.

It is crowded and hot on the floor, but you don’t mind. Taehyung pulls you into him, keeping a protective grip on your hips. His eyes are locked onto yours, keeping you willing hostage.

He knows how to dance immediately, moving your hips to the melody. There isn’t much melody. The deep bass and hard drums drown out any sense of melodic composition. But that doesn’t mean the music wasn’t art. It was. Addicting, body consuming art, forcing you to draw closer to Taehyung until you can almost merge with him.

He leans closer, his voice tickles you as he speaks.

“You look so beautiful”, he says, “I can’t stop looking at you.”

He straightens up, looking into your eyes deeply. His hands slip from your hips, gliding up your waist until they linger and squeeze. Right where you are the most sensitive. Your knees buckle because of it, your hips chase him.

Taehyung finally breaks eye contact to instead look at your lips. One. Two. Three seconds and he is pinning you down again. One. Two. Three seconds and he moves in. He presses his finger to your ear so he can talk normally and you can hear him perfectly. The gesture sends shivers down your spine.

“You have me bewitched”, he rasps, “we have been in this club for merely five minutes and I already want to rip these pesky little clothes off of you and bounce you on my cock.”

“Tae”, you gasp, moving back to gawk at him. This talk isn’t like him, leaving you dizzy.

Taehyung smirks lazily, taking your chin between two of his fingers. He brushes his thumb over your lips. Once. Twice. He pulls back and kisses the pad of his thumb, lowering his eyes playfully. He ignores the needy grip your fingers get on his shoulders, guiding his hands back to your waist with all the calm in the world.

“Beautiful”, he mouths the word as the music drowns out his voice. You twist his shirt at the front. The fabric feels rough on your skin. Taehyung stumbles closer, allowing you to pull his head down. He purrs when you hook your fingers behind his head and press your lips against his ear.

“You’re so mean. Why would you say that?”

Taehyung smirks, turning his head to speak in your stead. His lips tickle your ear, his voice is sultry.

“Why should I lie?” he asks, placing a feather light kiss on your neck afterwards. He growls playfully, “you smell so good, my sweetest”, he rasps.

You turn your head, making him shiver by running your fingers through his hair before twisting it and guiding his ear to your lips.

“I taste even better”, you coo, snickering when Taehyung lifts his head just to gawk in surprise.

He didn’t expect you to talk back. Good. You break away from him just to dance in front of him, throwing your arms over your head and swinging your hips to the melody. Taehyung chases you instantly, hips melted together and strong hands on your waist. He seeks your kiss, mouthing your name in a sigh. He’s got you charged. Aching for his lips. His taste. His hair tickles your fingers as you twist it again, your body chases him in rhythmic rolls.

Perhaps you never meant to go out tonight. Perhaps all you truly wanted to do was get pretty and chase each other in a dance of too much desire. Being here in this dark club with hot bodies surrounding you and the loud music making ever fibre in your body vibrate turns you on so fucking much.

Taehyung leans in, you flee with a tilt of your head. He purrs in desperation, squeezing your waist. He needs you. He needed you ever since he saw you in your clothes. Perhaps even earlier when you sat down on his lap and kissed his neck. He hasn’t carved you so ardently for months. His grief kept him hostage, made him want meaningless sex to drown out the pain and left him uninterested in the addicting pleasure your presence gives him. He didn’t want to soil it. The tension, the electricity, the feeling of being robbed of air. Only you can make him feel that way. And he didn’t want to taint it. It is way too precious to him.

And now he craves it. He feels starved of you. Your kiss, your touch, your taste. He needs you to feed him, fill his every vein with the essence of you.

Taehyung places his hand at the back of your neck, tilting your head up. There is no escape for you now. He has you caged and at his mercy. Taehyung claims your lips in a passionate kiss, forcing your knees to buckle. He moans into the kiss, feeling the needy whimper you let out against his lips. His veins fill with the essence of you, leaving him disorientated. Craving more. His right hand falls to your lower back, pressing you into him. You stumble, fingernails scratching down his neck as you claw for balance. He hasn’t kissed you like that in ages. You have already forgotten just how much passion he has for you. You don’t blame him for the distance he needed in the past few months, but you have to be honest with yourself and admit that you truly missed the manic desire he kissed you with in the past.

Mere minutes later and your panties are soaked in desperation, fingers twisting his hair painfully and lips feeling sensitive. Your lipsticks are smeared, covering your lower faces. Red gloss and dark lipstick. The combination is messy. Taehyung wipes it off your skin with his lips parted in a breathy moan and his half-lidded eyes making the hottest love to you.

“Sorry for making such a mess”, he rasps.

“I’m not”, you answer him, pulling him back into the kiss. Taehyung growls, parting his lips for your hungry tongue. He has a million scents in his nose and yet there is one which is as clear as day to him. Your desperation. You smell so fucking wet that Taehyung can taste it each time he gasps for air and it drives him insane.

He lifts his knee, your legs part for it instinctively. The kiss breaks as he pushes against your middle, your voice trembles in a gasped moan. You look up at him, surprised and droopy.

Taehyung curls his lips into a smirk, guiding your hips only for you to beat him to it and doing it all on your own. Smooth, needy rolls to the sound of the music. Your right hand slips from his hair, pressing against his crotch.

“Darling”, Taehyung gasps, stumbling for just a second. Your palm finds his cock instantly, rubbing his tip over the fabric of his pants. The pressure is intense, you are trying to make up for the thick leather dulling your touch. Taehyung feels weak because of it, licking into your mouth before actually kissing you. Tongue against tongue, needy sucks on them, pulsating lips and desperate movements.

You are getting off on each other, blind to anyone around you and hungry for one thing. The other’s pleasure.

The kiss breaks, Taehyung presses his lips against your neck.

“I should have fucked you before we left. I can’t think of anything else”, he rasps, moving his knee over your soaked pussy. He is tensing his muscles, sending electricity through your veins.

“Maybe you should have.”

Taehyung shows his fangs in a playful purr, lowering his eyes at you.

“You're tempting me”, he rasps.

“Tae”, you moan, moving your hips on his thigh in sync with your hand rubbing his clothed cock.

Taehyung moans and moves in to kiss you. Except that two glasses appear in your view before that can happen. The magic stops. You look to the side.

“Your drinks”, Jimin says, pushing the glasses against your chests, “do you guys seriously have to do that in the middle of the dance floor?”

You want to curse at him. How dare he ruin this moment for you. Taehyung breaks away, wanting to help you keep your modesty. Not that you acted very modest ten seconds ago.

“We were busy”, Taehyung says, accepting his drink and downing it quickly.

“I could see that.”

“Couldn’t you have waited?”

“And do what? Watch you while you masturbate each other like perverts? We’re here together, remember?”

Taehyung huffs out air in annoyance, glancing at you. Your skin is glowing in a healthy layer of sweat. He knows that it is only there because he got you worked up. You are clutching that glass with shaky fingers, gulping the liquid as if your life depended on it.

Jimin grabs Taehyung’s chin, turning his head to you.

“You’ve got messy”, he says, wetting his thumb to wipe away the messy lipstick. Taehyung feels wobbly because of it. You messed him up so much that such a simple touch by Jimin makes him weak. His skin is oversensitive. Every touch feels like fire.

He feels hands run up his torso and arms close around his waist from behind. There is an empty Cosmopolitan glass in one hand. He lowers himself so you can rest your chin on his shoulder.

“Pay attention to me”, you whisper against his neck, “I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Jimin says something you can’t hear because of the music, but Taehyung seems to understand him well.

“What did he say?” you ask him.

“That he can hear you.”

You lock eyes with Jimin. You expected annoyance, but there was something else too. Something primal and hungry. You break your eyes away, turning your head to kiss Taehyung’s neck.

“So what about it?”

Jimin talks again. Taehyung translates it for you.

“He says that he's not here to watch us have sex.”

“Then he should leave.”

Jimin lowers his eyes darkly. You snicker now that you pissed him off successfully.

“I’m getting another drink. Want something too?” you say.

“Another Cosmopolitan please”, Taehyung says, craning his neck in order to talk to you.

“Coming right up”, you say, leaving him needy and weak headed on the dance floor. You dance your way to the bar, dodging some grabby hands and ignoring too many lame pick up lines. Nobody can woo you as much as Taehyung. Oh, you can’t wait to return to him and continue where you left off.

There are four people in front of you. You don’t mind waiting, moving to the songs and watching the people. Taehyung is dancing with Jimin, having his eyes closed as he enjoys the music. He looks blissed out that way, moving his hips as if he was made to do so and resting his cheek on Jimin’s shoulder. The latter is looking at you, left hand on Taehyung’s hip while his right is hidden between their bodies. One second longer and you figure out why it moves the way it does and why Taehyung looks as blissed out as he does. You gulp, breaking your eyes away from Jimin and Taehyung. There are a few people making out around them. Actually, a few is an understatement. There are many people making out. There is one couple lost in more than a kiss. Right next to the DJ booth. You look away, back at the bar. Only two more people. Back to Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung stopped moving, Jimin took over for him, lips on his neck moving in dirty whispers and dark eyes still glued to you. It is like he wants you to know what he does to Taehyung. As if he wants you to partake in it even with all the distance between you and them. There is another couple. Right next to you. They call your attention for a second. She is kissing his neck. Or maybe not. Oh dear. Oh no. Oh, she is definitely biting him. His neck and her lips are covered in the red essence of her bite. Judging by her desperate grip on his waist and his blissed out expression this is both consensual and an act of utter lust. You sneak a glance at Taehyung. He is dancing again doing so with his head thrown back and his lips parted in a gasp. You know that expression. Fuck. Jimin is goddamn cruel for taking that first high from you. You wanted to be the one giving it to Taehyung.

“Hello.”

You look to your left. A stranger. Blonde hair and blue eyes. A man. He is eyeing your cleavage then your neck. You scrunch your nose up in annoyed disgust.

“I’m here with someone”, you tell him coldly.

“Oh? You are? Well, that’s a shame, I had hoped that a beautiful lady such as yourself would be interested in a conversation.”

“I have to decline.”

“I understand really.”

And despite that he stays next to you. Looking. Staring. Your neck and cleavage. Your neck and cleavage. Your neck. Staring. A step closer. Your cleavage. A step closer. Your neck.

You move away. Closer to the bar, away from him.

Your neck. Your cleavage. Back to your neck. He licks his lips.

“I’m good friends with Yoongi”, you tell him and if he was part of the group you assume him to be part of, he will know to piss off now.

“Okay? Whoever that might be”, he dismisses you.

Well shit. He’s just a normal dude who can’t take a no.

“If you keep bothering me, you’ll find out. Trust me, you don’t want to.”

He laughs, lowering his eyes in what you assume to be flirty playfulness. You turn away from him, grinding your teeth. One more person then you can order and leave.

“I’m here alone”, the stranger says, leaning in so close that you can smell his breath. Alcohol.

You move away.

“I’m not. My boyfriend’s with me. He is really strong.”

“I bet he is. I’m strong too”, he says and flexes his arms. He does have muscles. Which makes you even more scared of him.

“I bet. It uh, yeah. I bet”, you stutter.

“Yeah right? It’s impressive. Do you want me to show you? I can lift you.”

You dodge his grabby hands by an inch.

“Please leave me alone. I’ll scream.”

“What? Here? But it’s loud in here, nobody will hear.”

“What?”

“What?” he asks nonchalantly and laughs, “I’m only joking. Don’t you worry, I won’t touch a lovely lady without consent.”

You laugh because you are scared that if you didn’t, he’d lash out.

It is your turn at the bar. You turn your back to the man, hoping that the attention of the bartender is enough to scare him off. You order, looking at the bartender the entire time and hoping that the creep gets the hint. Unluckily for you, the bartender has to turn away to prepare your drinks and all the other workers are too preoccupied with their orders to pay you any mind.

“A Cosmopolitan, yeah? You didn’t strike me as a Cosmopolitan kinda girl”, the man’s breath swirls over the back of your neck, forcing your hair to stand up in fright. “I like it.”

You try to stay silent, hoping that ignoring him will make him piss off.

It doesn’t. Oh it fucking doesn’t.

He places his hand on your lower back. Every inch of your soul dies at that moment. You feel both hot and cold. Numb and overstimulated in fear. Silenced. You can’t even squeak for help.

“Pretty lady, don’t ignore me. Do you not want to play-”, he doesn’t get to finish his sentence and instead yelps up in pain. And continues. Groaning and moaning and grunting in pain.

You turn in the right moment to witness Jimin stepping in front of you. He has a deathly grip on the man’s hand, twisting it into an unnatural position.

“Fucking piss off, you ugly fuck”, he growls.

The man whimpers, gawking at Jimin’s exposed vampire face in horror.

Jimin pushes the man’s broken hand away. The man flees instantly, clutching his hand and staring in shock.

Jimin stares him down until he is gone. And only then he turns.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks you, running his eyes over your body.

“No he, uhm. Oh my god”, you get out, almost collapsing on the floor as your knees give up in shock.

“Hey, careful”, Jimin catches you and lifts you atop a bar stool. He pulls his hands away instantly once you are safely sitting on it.

“Oh my god, did this really just happen?” you get out.

Jimin nods his head.

“Oh my god”, you whisper, closing your arms around yourself in a scared hug.

Jimin watches with his brows furrowing in anger. He tilts your head up with one finger under your chin. The touch is barely there.

“He’s gone now.”

“What if he comes back?”

“He won’t. Trust me.”

“Oh god”, you press out.

Jimin tightens his jaw.

“Should we take fresh air for a bit?” he offers.

“Yes please.”

“Come on, hold my waist”, he says, lifting his arms until you hug his middle tightly. He places his arm around you, keeping you close. He makes sure that nobody bumps into you by pushing the people around you away, using quite a lot of his true strength for it. They complain but Jimin could care rather little about them.

There is a small park outside just opposite of the club. Truly it is nothing more than two benches, a patch of grass and one tree under which a seesaw is standing. The benches are occupied, but that doesn’t stop Jimin from walking up to one of them.

“Bugger off, it’s our spot”, he hisses at the two drunk guys who were lost in conversation before.

They both stand up, towering over Jimin by a head.

“You wanna say that again?” one of them challenges.

“Fuck off. You’re at our spot”, Jimin hisses and pushes him so strongly he leaps through the air only to fall on the ground a good ten feet from you.

“Bro, what the fuck?” his friend gasps, “take the bench. The fuck’s your problem? Hey Mike, are you okay man?”

The two guys run away, never to be seen again. Jimin sits down with you, keeping his arm on the backrest behind you.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Shaken up, but I guess that I expected it. Fucking sad, isn’t it? That I have to expect shit like that when going literally anywhere.”

Jimin furrows his brows in anger.

“Thank you seriously. It’s so scary to be a woman sometimes.”

“Don’t mention it. I get it.”

“No it’s true. I gave him signs multiple times and he kept trying.”

“Yeah, those people are wrong in the head. They ignore cues for their selfish pursuit.”

You nod your head, balling your hands to fists.

“Sometimes I wish that people like that die painfully”, you confess in a whisper.

Jimin studies your side profile. He didn’t expect such a confession from you.

“Fuck, sorry. Why did I say that? Of course I don’t wish death on people”, you correct yourself, lowering your eyes, “sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it”, he assures you.

You let out a trembling breath, sagging your shoulders.

“Hey. Don’t worry, he’s not gonna come back”, Jimin says.

You sneak a glance at him, feeling your eyes drift behind him. You gulp. Jimin turns around. The creep from before is standing at the edge of the park, staring at you. His shirt is wrapped around his broken hand. He clearly hadn’t seen you, which would explain why he turns and then runs the other way.

“Fucking asshole”, Jimin mumbles under his breath, “stay here. I’ll be back”, he says and disappears.

“What?”

You are all alone again. Taehyung is busy dancing in the club and Jimin is gone. It all happened so fast. The harassment, Jimin breaking the criminal’s hand and him disappearing. Did this really just happen?

“Hey.”

You flinch, eyes flitting to your side.

Jimin is back.

“Where were you?”

“Just somewhere”, he says, sitting down next to you. He leans back, stretching his legs out. Then he lets his head fall back, pressing out a breathy “fuck.” His chest heaves up and down in heavy pants.

“Jimin, your mouth”, you gasp, staring at the deep red stain on the left corner of his lips.

“What?” he touches it, “oh that. Don’t mind it”, he dismisses you, wiping it away.

“Was that blood? What did you do? Who did you bite?”

“He had it coming.”

“He?”

Jimin runs his eyes up and down your body.

“What?” he hisses, “he was a fucking sexual predator. Do you think that I’ll let scum like him live? You said so yourself that people like that should die painfully.”

“You-”, you gulp, “what did you do?”

“He won’t be able to hurt anyone from now on. I made sure of that.”

“Jimin, oh my god.”

“Fuck, you’re such a prude cunt. I did it for you, just saying”, he spits and tries to get up to leave.

“Hey”, you grab his hand, pulling him back to you.

He falls back on the bench, looking at you with slight annoyance in his eyes.

“Thank you”, you say.

Jimin’s gaze brushes over your lips before he looks away. He slips down on the bench until he can rest his head on the edge of the backrest, folding his hands in front of his tummy.

“Don’t mention it”, he says nonchalantly.

You slip down as well, mirroring his position. He sneaks a glance at you to check but soon returns to looking at the sky. The tree is unmoving except for the occasional faint breeze of air making the uppermost branches shake. The music of the club is quiet in your ears, filling the air with slight vibrations. The night is peaceful.

“Should we go back to Tae?” you ask into the silence.

“No, he’s busy. Trust me.”

“Busy?”

“Yeah. Cleaning up.”

“I saw.”

Jimin smirks victoriously.

“Good.”

You don’t know how to answer that and so you stay silent, staring at the sky. So you were right. Jimin stole that very first high from him.

“Shouldn’t we still check up on him?”

“Let’s just sit here for a moment.”

“Okay.”

“Fuck”, Jimin presses out, throwing his arm over his eyes, “fucking hell.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, something’s up.”

“The creep took something. It’s tripping me out.”

“What? Are you okay? Do you need help?” you gasp, straightening up.

“Relax”, Jimin pushes you back down with his hot hand on your tummy, “I like it. Just what I wanted.”

“Oh okay”, you relax, “uhm, that’s good then.”

“Yeah, it’s good”, Jimin says, retreating his hand. He leaves behind a cold shiver. His touch was so hot in contact and now it’s gone. The chilly night air feels so real on your skin. You place your hand on the spot he touched in hopes of cancelling it out. It works partially.

“Fuck”, Jimin presses out, “do you think Tae’s hooking up with strangers?”

“That’s so random. Why would you think that?”

“Cause he always does that. Whenever we go out, he makes out with strangers. Why’s he always with other people?”

You sneak a glance at him. He has his eyes closed but looks upset.

“I thought we’re here together. Why’s he such a fucking whore?” he says.

“But I thought that you guys are both really chill about sex with others.”

“No.”

“I see. But you guys aren’t really a couple, are you?”

“Does it matter?” he hisses.

“No, I guess it doesn’t”, you tilt your head to the side, “shouldn’t we go inside? What if he’s looking for us? I don’t think that he wants to meet strangers tonight. You’re just paranoid and are imagining things. You literally just made him cum. What more proof do you need?”

“No. I don’t want to check.”

You study his face, “are you scared that you’re right and he’s making out with someone? Is that why you don’t wanna leave here?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin hisses, avoiding eye contact which lets you know that it is exactly like that.

“I guess not. I don’t know.”

Jimin nods his head and takes a deep breath. You lean back on the bench. Sitting here for a few more moments does feel nice. The air was really stuffy in the club, so the fresh night air feels like a treat. You are positive that Jimin was wrong about Taehyung and that once you go inside again, you will find him dancing alone.

“Stupid shitshow”, Jimin murmurs, sitting up with an exhausted sigh. He tangles his hands between his spread legs, resting his elbows on his knees, “and you? Do you like it when he does it?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I think as long as he doesn’t make me feel as if I’m replaceable, I don’t mind. Besides, I’m with Yoongi and Kook as well. I’m the same.”

“I guess”, Jimin glances at you, “seriously, how the fuck did you and Yoongi happen? I thought you hated each other.”

“We did. For a while. Then it kind of clicked.”

“It clicked? Really? With Yoongi? How?”

“Why not? He’s so easy to fall in love with.”

Jimin snorts, “is he really?”

You sit up.

“Yes he is. Stop being a cunt. Yoongi means a lot to me and he is so loveable. Don’t talk bad about him”, you warn, making yourself bigger.

Jimin chuckles in amusement.

“I’m not saying anything”, he lifts his hands in defeat.

“Tch”, you let out and click your tongue.

Jimin studies your face with a victorious grin. It earns him a look from you. He chuckles lazily, letting himself fall back against the bench. He put his hands behind his head, looking up at the sky.

“It’s good”, he says.

“The drugs?”

“No. That you and Yoongi are a thing now.”

“Really?” you scoff, “don’t tell me that you’re happy for me.”

“Course not, I couldn’t care less about you.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m happy because that means that you’re not always stuck to Tae”, Jimin glances at you, “you piss me off when you are.”

You roll your eyes, clicking your tongue, “you’re so jealous, it’s unbelievable.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“No of course not. Not you”, sarcasm drips from your voice. You scoot closer to Jimin, nudging his knee, “loose up a little. Tae’s not gonna leave you and he’s also not making out with strangers right now. You’re just a paranoid, jealous idiot.”

Jimin tenses his jaw.

You shrug your shoulders, “I’m telling the truth. Take it or leave it.”

“Hah”, he scoffs, looking away, “you’re so annoying.”

“Thanks. You’re annoying too.”

He chuckles, glancing at you with friendly eyes. You give him a little grin.

Jimin gets to his feet then, stretching his arms above his head. He whispers a curse.

“I’m so high”, he says and laughs. Then he struts to the seesaw. There is a guy sitting on it. You watch Jimin pick him up by his clothes like a mother cat would its litter, except that Jimin then proceeds to throw the man a good ten feet to the side. The man stumbles to his feet and runs away in horror. Jimin plops down on the now empty seat nonchalantly, locking eyes with you and cracking you up with it. Jimin stares for only a few seconds and then your drunk giggles crack him up as well, eyes turning into crescent moons from how deeply he laughs.

You get up and hurry to him, claiming the other side. You are still laughing. Jimin does too.

“I can’t believe you just threw this man”, you snicker.

“He had it coming”, Jimin says in a chuckle and moves the seesaw.

You squeak, clutching the handle tightly.

“Warn me, oh my god”, you gasp, making Jimin laugh.

“I thought you were ready.”

“Well, I wasn’t”, you say in a laugh, having to squeak out a giggle when the movement of Jimin’s side hitting the ground makes you bounce.

Jimin pushes himself off again. Your side hits the ground. He bounces and laughs, almost falling off if he hadn’t closed his legs tightly.

And so it happens that you are rocking on a seesaw with him, laughing like children and having way too much fun for your own good. Time feels nicely spend. You genuinely enjoy his company. You really do. Jimin seems to reciprocate the feelings, throwing his head back in laughter each time he bounces in the air. You have never seen him like that before. Carefree and happy. Maybe it’s the drugs. You don’t really want to look for the reason however. He is so much more likable when he is like that.

Your play soon comes to a stop however when Jimin loses balance and falls off when he is the highest.

“Jimin! Oh god, are you okay?!” you gasp, tumbling off the seesaw as well.

He groans, rolling onto his back.

“Hey! Are you okay?”

“Fuck, that was fucking hilarious”, he says, cackling loudly.

His laughter is enough to assure you that everything was okay and so you laugh as well, rolling onto your back.

Jimin turns his head, locking eyes with you. His smile fades out, making you do the same because it felt like the right thing to do. Silence. The air feels heavy, but not uncomfortable. Jimin props himself up and crawls to you, letting himself plop down once you are close enough that your faces are just shoulder-length wide apart.

“That was fun”, he says in a whisper.

“Yeah it was”, you agree, looking everywhere but his lips. You can’t accept the truth behind that look. You won’t.

Jimin can.

“I’m glad that we ran into each other”, he confesses.

“What?” you breathe.

Jimin needs a second to process what he just said, widening his eyes once he does. He turns his head away, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I’m so high”, he says, throwing his arm over his eyes, “fuck.”

You look away, focusing on the tree above your heads with obsessed precision. He is trying to find stupid excuses for his slip of words. Holy fuck.

“I think that I should go back”, you say, sitting up.

Jimin lets you, staring at you with a flustered expression.

“Yeah”, he says.

You stand up, patting your butt clean from the bark mulch.

“Are you, uhm, gonna stay here?”

“I guess.”

“Okay. See you later.”

“Yeah.”

You turn and run back to the club. This can’t be happening. Nope. You are not feeling attracted to Park Jimin. Nope this is not happening.

The air in the club reeks of alcohol and sweaty bodies. You try to look for Taehyung, but can’t find him. He is lost in the crowd. You swerve to the toilets, feeling the strong urge to be alone.

Thankfully all of the three stalls are empty. You hide away in the first one, locking the door. You close the toilet seat to sit down on it afterwards. Your face falls into your hands. What is genuinely in the air tonight? You can’t be attracted to Jimin. Not him. Everyone but him.

It must be alcohol, the situation, the location. Not him. It must have been everything else. Yes. Everything else. The night is filled with tension and it would have happened with anyone you met.

You lift your head from your hands, knowing deep down that you just lied to yourself, but you don’t want to dwell on that thought for too long. It was just the tension in the air, not because Jimin is messing with your head. Yes. It was just the air. Nothing else.

“I have to find Tae”, you decide, “he’ll help me come to my senses. Yes, that’s what I have to do.”

And with that silly excuse of a plan you decide to leave the stall.

“Ah!” you yelp, stumbling back when someone is right in front of it, waiting for you. “Jimin, oh my god you just scared the living shit out of me.”

He is standing right in front of your stall, staring at you with dark eyes.

“Good thing we’re in a toilet then”, he says, making you laugh.

He doesn’t laugh. He just stares.

You push yourself past him to wash your hands.

“What are you doing here? You’re aware that that’s the lady’s room, aren’t you?”

Jimin watches you with piercing eyes. You dry your hands, turning to him when he doesn’t say anything.

“What are you doing? Did you just come here to stare?” you ask him.

Jimin moves in so close that you have to crane your neck to look at him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

Jimin moves in just enough that his nose brushes over your skin and his lips are almost touching yours. You feel lightheaded, gawking at him with widened eyes. And yet you can’t pull away, something keeps you locked on him.

“Push me away”, whispers in a rasp.

“What?”

“Push me away”, he repeats, eyes flitting to your lips.

You know what he wants to say with that. Push me away and I won’t do it. Push me away and this never happened.

You can’t move away, eyes finally flitting to his lips.

The truth has been spoken and Jimin knows what to do. He cups your face and pulls you into a kiss, making your knees buckle because of it.

You break it with your hands pushing at his chest.

Jimin pulls you closer again, chasing your lips. But you move away, hands cupping his face just so you can tilt his head up. Your heart is racing like crazy.

“I don’t know if we can do that” you lie.

“Oh come on. Stop pretending as if you’re not feeling it as well.”

“Feeling what?”

Jimin pulls you into the kiss, pushing at you gently to get you to move.

Your knees buckle, you claw at his shirt, stumble back until your back hits the door. Somewhere far away you hear him lock it. His knee claims the emptiness between your legs to press right against your barely clothed pussy. You break the kiss just so you could gasp.

“This”, he rasps, “you smell so fucking needy”, Jimin growls, chasing you with his puffy lips parted and his eyes glued to your mouth. He grips your hips with one hand, guiding them over his muscular thigh. He doesn’t miss one beat, making your hips dance to the music outside.

“O-oh god”, you stutter.

He kisses you as an answer, fingers twisting a bundle of your hair at the nape of your neck and tongue chasing the taste of your kiss. He fucking loves the way you taste – he has done so ever since he drank you blood in the practice room – he loves it so much, sucking on your lips with gluttony in his movements.

You writhe, gripping his corseted waist to pull him closer. You blame the booze and the setting. You shouldn’t be so sickeningly attracted to Jimin and yet at this moment, you are. Everything about him. The way he is dressed tonight, the way he moved on the dance floor and laughed with you outside. How he couldn’t stop letting his eyes run over your body when he touched Taehyung and how you couldn’t stop looking at him. Jimin is right. You’re so fucking into him right now.

You grab him and force him to turn. The kiss breaks as Jimin lets out a throaty chuckle, back colliding with the door and head tilting back to reveal his thick neck to your eyes. His black hair is ruffled, hanging into his face in messy strands. His makeup is smudged from the intense kiss.

“Fuck, you’re hot”, he rasps.

“Shut up”, you spit, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Jimin moans, forcing your pussy back onto his thigh. His foot is propped up on the door, his thigh muscles are tensing in this position, feeling hard and rough against your pussy. The friction is maddeningly good, keeping you wanting more and more. You try not to think about it for too long. No thoughts. Not one thought. Just sensations. Messy hands, sloppy kisses, sculpted thighs, hungry moans. No thoughts, just sensations. If you start thinking, you will realise what the fuck you are doing right now and then it will start haunting you.

Jimin pushes himself off the door and picks you up from the floor just to bounce you in his arms twice. You wrap your legs around his middle, twisting his hair. The friction against your pussy feels so fucking good. You are messing up his clothes with your pleasure because of it. Wet and slick. Hot and sticky. So fucking sweet, Jimin thinks as he smells it, so goddamn fucking sweet. His hands slip under your shirt, forcing the material to punch up until it exposes your lower back fully. The kiss doesn’t break, on the contrary, Jimin tangles his tongue with you, moaning with his whole chest as he stumbles to the sink.

“Ah, what”, you gasp, squirming when he sits you down on the wet, cold surface.

“Say it”, he rasps, tugging you against his torso. Your pussy grinds against his corset like this. The leather feels sticky against your pants.

“Say what?”

“Say that you don’t want this.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m gonna fuck you against this sink until you’re sobbing.”

You moan without wanting to, fingers hooking in his belt to open the clasp. Jimin understands, hooking his finger in it to rip it off his body. The ruined piece of leather gets dropped on the floor.

“That was Tae’s belt.”

“I’ll buy him a new one”, Jimin dismisses you, hooking his fingers in your pants, “one last chance.”

“Do it. Less talking.”

Jimin undresses you hastily. Your pants are around your ankles. He hooks his fingers in your panties and rips the fabric easily, putting the ruined panties into his pants pocket.

“For Tae”, he says and smirks when this makes you squirm, “I bet he’d rub one off to it.”

“You are both insane.”

“Thank you”, he rasps and takes his cock out, pulling you closer by the small of your back. Once he is happy with how close you are, he grabs the nape of your neck, forcing you to keep up eye contact as he begins rubbing his cock against your clit. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The friction is better than anything.

“Fuck”, you let out, chasing him with a roll of your hips. He feels so cold against your burning skin, making you crave more just so you can warm him up.

Jimin growls and kisses you, tongue chasing you instantly. He is really fucking into this. You’ve been messing with him for too long. Jimin thinks that it started way back when hadn’t died yet. Till this day he sometimes thinks about the kiss you shared in the alleyway as you were chased by granny vampire. He knows that you only did so as a cover up, but Jimin still can’t stop thinking about it. Just as he can’t stop thinking about the way you touched his mark that night. Your touch lingers on his skin even long after you stopped feeling him up. Maybe it’s because you are the prey he could never truly have, but Jimin can’t take it anymore. He has to have you.

He pushes inside, breaking the kiss.

“Fuck”, he hisses, shivering upon being engulfed by your hot cunt. You’re better than he imagined you to be. Wet, hot, soft, tight. No wonder Taehyung can’t get enough of you. Your cunt’s like heaven. Jimin chases the sensation with a confident thrust of his hips, forcing more of him inside your soaked pussy.

You mewl, squirming against him.

“Too much?” he asks.

“N-no”, you croak, “fuck”, you gasp, arching your back eventhough your pride is hating you for it.

“Shit”, he lets his saliva drip from his lips, “I want you”, he growls darkly and tugs your shirt and bra to the side just to cup your right breast and lean down to suck gluttonous hickeys on the flesh.

“Fuck, Jimin”, you gasp, arching into his touch with too much vigour.

Jimin growls. He is not gentle. He sucks hard and bites even harder. His grip is strong, punishing even. All while his cock is making your pussy wet and throb around it. He begins chasing the feeling, hips slamming into you to the hard beat of the music.

“I fucking want you”, Jimin growls, “you should be mine. Since the beginning. You should have been fucking mine.”

He curses and bruises your skin as he sucks on your tits.

“Ah!” you squeak, meeting him with desperate squirms. This isn’t intelligent fucking. This is raw, stupid fucking between two people who know that once the thinking starts, it will feel wrong and therefore the fucks needs to be hard and fast. No thinking, just fucking. Desperate, greedy fucking.

You twist his hair, scratch down the back of his neck, arch into him. Your pussy is making the wettest sound mixing with Jimin’s excessive slurping and the slap of his skin connecting with yours.

“Fucking mine. You were mine. All mine”, his voice is dripping in gluttony, his hips are punishing. Almost as if they wanted to punish you for choosing Taehyung over him all those months ago.

And he does. Right now, with your pussy creaming his cock and your skin bruising for him, Jimin wants to punish you. You were supposed to be their food. Their newest prey. And what did you turn into? Taehyung’s lover and Jimin’s biggest rival for his heart. And now he has you where he wants you to. Alone, weak and turned complacent by cock. Jimin finally got you. The prey he could never have. And he is fucking gluttonous for you.

Jimin moans, releasing your pulsating nipple. It is so fucking sensitive that you spill tears now that it is aching in the cold air each time he abandons it in sake for the other. You whimper when he bites down especially hard, scratching down the back of his neck because nothing else could help.

The pain of it forces Jimin to break away. He lets the saliva break and looks at you with eyes dark and half lidded. Black veins are spanning down his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, thrusts becoming harder now that he has you pulsating around him, “feel good?”

“Y-yeah”, you stutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you grasp the edge of the sink. You are getting fucked on a sink and with your clothes ripped to shreds. Holy fucking fuck, this is actually happening.

“Of course you do, I fuck like a fucking king”, he growls and wraps his hand around your throat.

“Ah!” you gasp, throwing your head back, “oh god.”

His eyes lower darkly as he watches the pleasure wash over your face. His fingers tighten on your throat, cutting off your blood and making you gasp for air.

Your head pounds, breathing is really fucking hard. Panic. It gets you off to panic. You hate that it does. You squeak and gawk at him, hitting his chest as you fight for air.

“Why are you so hot?” he spits, chasing you with harsh thrusts, “what’s fucking wrong with you?” he growls, deepening his grip, “you’re not supposed to be so fucking hot, you fucking- urgh fuck, why do you keep occupying my mind? Huh?”

He punishes you with a harsh thrust, forcing your back to hit the mirror. He tilts your head back, making you squeak for air.

“Why do I want you so fucking bad?”

“Jimin”, you croak, hitting him harder.

“What do you want?”

“Air.”

“Air?” he laughs maniacally, “why should I give you air? I should fucking kill you for messing with me.”

“Please”, you squeak.

“Fuck, you’re weak”, Jimin spits, releasing your neck.

You gasp loudly, arching your back as life returns to you. Holy fucking shit, you feel high.

“That's it, keep fighting. You’re so annoying, no matter what I try you'll always come back won’t you?” Jimin growls and grabs you just to sink you back down on his cock, pulling you into a rough kiss as he does. You can’t help but moan into his mouth, tightening your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You fuck yourself on his cock, meeting his movements sloppily and desperately.

He grunts, bottoming out over and over and over again as he shows you just how good he can fuck. In and out, in and out, in and out. He makes sure to show your pussy who makes her fucking weep right now.

The kiss breaks just enough for him to speak. “That’s it. Pull me closer like the greedy, little slut you are”, his words make you spiral, the kiss which follows steals your breath.

You have to give it to him. This is a lot more enjoyable than you thought sex with him to be. He is so much deeper than you thought he would be, using the melodies of outside to bounce you even better on his thick cock. His pubic bone rubs against your clit with every bounce whilst his once busy fingers grip your hips, making your toes curl.

“Jimin”, you whimper against his lips, voice pitched.

He raises his head, locking his eyes with you.

“Yes ___?” he rasps, voice heavy in arousal.

“F-feels good”, you say, despite the embarrassment you are feeling in an instant. Look at you. You are getting fucked by Park fucking Jimin, trembling on a sink in a public bathroom.

“Yeah? Tell me how good my cock makes you feel”, he growls, angling his hips differently. He soaks up the way your face scrunches up in pleasure. “Tell me”, he orders, repeating what he had done before, “tell me how good that feels. Tell me. Fucking tell me.”

You still don’t completely like Jimin. Mostly because he is a self-obsessed dick. Yeah he is Taehyung’s best friend and he did redeem himself by dying or whatever, but you can’t particularly stand him. This right now however? Feels otherworldly. It is rough, angry and with enough danger that it gets you off. Exactly how you fucking like it.

“Good”, you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulders, “so good. Oh god.”

“I knew it”, he smirks, “I fucking knew it. Such a slut, you’re such a slut”, he growls and moans, burying his face in the crook of your neck just so he can kiss you sloppily.

You wail loudly, clawing at his back as your pussy feels in paradise. His neck kisses are so rough, bordering painful to the point where you feel dizzy. Oh so dizzy. So fucking dizzy. Holy shit, you can’t breathe. Oh god you you’re so dizzy.

Jimin thrusts his thick cock against your sensitive spot and sucks on your neck.

“Jimi-”, you squeak out and cum.

Hot. Rough. Aggressive. Forced.

Jimin forces the hardest, most insane orgasm out of your trembling body, fucking into your pulsating cunt with angry, harsh thrusts.

You hate that you are wailing and moaning and sobbing for him, but you can’t help it. He is so fast and strong, letting his powers control him, and that type of fuck feels so fucking good.

Jimin growls against your neck, sucking harder and hungrier the more you scream and orgasm.

You think that you are doing it a second time. You can’t tell as the first one never really died down and only got stronger. You blame the hot feeling of his cum shooting up your pussy for it. He fucks it out of you just as he is fucking it right back into you, moaning against your neck and slamming his fist into the mirror right beside your head just so he doesn’t break you. It shatters on impact, leaving deep imprints on Jimin’s ivory skin.

He pulls his hands out of the shards, gripping you by the side of your neck just to tilt your head back. Fuck, his knuckles hurt. It’s better than hurting you though. Jimin thinks it is. He hates that he does, but it’s true. He cares for you enough that he doesn’t want to actually hurt you. Look at him. Goddamn fucking hell. He is cumming because of you. Fucking hell.

“Fuck”, he presses out, panting heavily. His hips slow down, staying snug against you so your pussy was still filled with his cock. He is rocking into you slowly, riding out your highs in lazy gluttony. He could go again. He could bury himself into you over and over again until you are drained. His body demands it. Every fiber aches for more.

Jimin grunts and fights for air, gripping the edge of the sink as he forces his hips to stay calm. His instincts want to kick in. Jimin inhales deeply, shuddering. He tells them to calm down, to stop being a fucking Glutton for once.

You feel so fucking dizzy and lightheaded, holding onto bundles of his hair as your only support. Breathing is difficult for you, your neck hurts from his kisses. You are also pretty sure that you can feel your pulse in your pussy.

Jimin tilts his head, pressing the flat of his tongue against your cheek. You are so tired that you let it happen. He flicks it and purrs deeply.

“You fucking cried”, he rasps, “they taste so good”, he adds and connects his lips with your cheek, kissing it softly.

The gesture leaves you confused and flustered.

Jimin lifts his head, eyes flitting to your neck.

“I”, he blinks as if he was surprised, fingers touching his lips, “I didn’t”, he whispers.

“What?” you ask, touching your neck, “ah? Ouch, it hurts. What did you do?”

You push him away, pulling your shirt back into place and turning to look into the shattered mirror.

“You bit me!”

“I didn’t mean to”, he says, shaking his head, “it’s because you turned me on, I didn’t mean to”, he says, cupping your cheeks, “I didn’t mean to, seriously.”

“Why would you bite me? Oh my god, it’s bleeding so much”, you say, pressing your hand to your neck as tightly as possible.

“I didn’t mean to. Your neck was so close and you smelled so good a-and my, my fangs brushed it. It was an accident”, he insists, “hey stop. Stop wiggling.”

“It hurts.”

“Here uhm, here”, he keeps you hostage by pressing his body between your legs, forcing your head to turn back to him with two fingers under your chin. He bites his own wrist and offers it to you, “drink.”

“What? No, why should I drink your blood?” you say, shaking your head vigorously.

“You’re bleeding.”

“So? I don’t want to drink your blood.”

“Do it, you don’t want Tae to worry, do you?” He pushes his wrist closer to your lips, “drink.”

“No, fuck off.”

“Drink please. I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna bite you."

“Put your wrist away, I don’t want to drink your blood.”

“Drink.”

“No. You’re a Glutton.”

“So? Then don’t die. Easy”, Jimin says and lifts his wrist, “drink.”

“No.”

“I will rip that ring off your finger and force you if you don’t follow. Drink.”

“Why are you like this? I told you no, didn’t I?”

“Drink!” he growls and then presses his wrist against your lips

“Mmgm”, you let out in surprise, widening your eyes when that familiar burn of blood is scraping down your throat. You wiggle and squirm, but Jimin keeps you on him until your wound is healed. Then he pulls you off of him with his hand in your hair.

You cough, holding your throat because it burns like crazy.

“Better”, he says and presses you closer to the sink, “now stay”, he says and turns the water on and with the help of his hand in your hair, cleans off your neck.

“Why did you do that?” you choke out.

“Tae can’t know about this. Do you hear me? It, it never happened”, he stutters as he washes your neck roughly.

“Ah Jimin. Stop being so rough.”

“Stay still. I’ve got to clean you up.”

“We could have thought of something. Why did you force me?”

“What could we have done? This was the only way”, he insists, avoiding eye contact.

“You are so fucking awful sometimes. I’m telling Tae, I’m serious. What if I die? He needs to know.”

“Don’t tell him, I didn’t mean to bite you”, he says, tugging your pants back up.

“So? He still needs to know. I’m in danger now”, you say, letting out a little whimper.

Jimin stares at you in shock. He gawks, fingers on your pants stilling.

“It was an accident, I already said that I’m sorry. Don’t tell him”, he says in a shaky voice, avoiding eye contact. He tugs you closer to the wall, keeping you sitting on the sink with his hips against yours. He dries off your skin with some paper towels, holding you by the back of your head to stop you from wiggling away. He dries your tears as well, avoiding your eye contact at all cost.

“Why not? He needs to know. You just- oh my fucking god, I have your blood in my system. Oh my god, Jimin why did you have to do that?”

“Don’t tell him, please.”

“No. You hurt me.”

“Fine. Then tell him”, he interrupts you, stepping so close you can smell his blood soaked breath swirl over your face, “go on tell him that I drank your blood without permission. Tell him and see what this does” he hisses, sending you a dark look, “you think he’d still want me here? No. I’d have to leave and you’d be the reason why his heart is broken again. You will be the reason why he loses his best friend again. All because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. So go on, tell him.”

You feel your stomach twist in disgust. Of course he would resort to blackmail at some point. Why did you think that someone like him could change? You look away, not bearing to see him any second longer. Maybe if you would have, you would have noticed the immense guilt and regret washing over his face and staying there with the intention of lingering for the rest of the night.

Jimin clicks his tongue and places his jacket around your shoulders and then steps back, “let’s leave. I’m sure Tae’s already wondering where we went off to.”

He intertwines his fingers with yours and tugs you outside. The air is stuffy, the hallways are dark, you collide with too many people until finally the dance floor with its flashing lights and bright smoke is revealing itself to your eyes. You barely take in any of it, getting dragged down further and further into the horrifying panic you are feeling.

You have Glutton blood inside of you. And you can’t even tell your love because it would break his heart. You are so scared. Feel so guilty. You can barely handle the burn in your stomach.

That is where you meet Taehyung. He is standing by the bar, looking worried until he meets your eyes and the worry gets replaced by relief. With a big grin on his lips, he makes his way to you, welcoming you back by grabbing your hips and pulling you snug against his hips.

“Where were you?” he calls over the loud music, “I was worried about you. I looked everywhere for you.”

“I,I”, you stutter, feeling sick to the stomach. Should you tell him? Should you be honest? Should you tell him that you were just bitten by Jimin in the bathroom only to get his cursed blood in your system? Taehyung looks at you with such sparkly eyes that your silence makes you feel sick.

He moves closer and furrows his brows.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Taehyung I just-”

“She was with me”, Jimin throws in, draping his arm over your shoulder so roughly you know that this is his warning to stay quiet. He even slams his chest into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. To Taehyung it looks like drunk stumbling however.

“With you?” Taehyung lifts his brows. He studies Jimin’s face, then yours and Jimin’s jacket on your shoulders, “oh dear”, he seems to realise. A big smile washes over his face. “Finally”, he says and giggles excitedly, “oh, I was hoping that the two of you would fuck”, he says and massages your hips tightly, “darling, we need to have a threesome very soon. I promise you, we are such fun.”

You are so overwhelmed. By everything. The secret. The fact that Jimin just bit you. The fact that you could turn into a Glutton in the next three days. The surprise that Taehyung wanted you and Jimin to fuck. And that he is asking for a threesome as if he practically waited for the day you would cave in. And you don’t blame him, because he didn’t fuck up, you did.

He pulls you closer, holding you with his big hands on your back. His lips are on your neck instantly, nibbling and sucking on the spots where mere seconds ago Jimin had bit you. The deep moan rumbling in his chest lets you know that Taehyung suspects nothing.

“You smell so sweet”, he rasps, “darling, a good fuck always makes you smell so good”, he lulls and purrs. His hands dance down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze, “is that right? Did Jimin fuck you good? Mhm?”

“I, I can’t breathe”, you choke out.

“What’s the matter?”

You push yourself away and then stumble to the exit. You have to get out of here. You are being eaten up alive by your emotions. You can’t breathe. Your eyes burn. Air. Please someone give you air. Please help.

You collide with someone outside. You can’t see them, stumbling past them without acknowledging their presence.

“Darling!” you hear Taehyung’s voice somewhere far away.

Holy shit, what have you done? Why did you drink Jimin’s blood? You could be a Glutton soon. You could actually turn into a Glutton. You just gave the curse roots in your body.

You collide with the ground and then it happens. With a painful convulse, your stomach empties itself. You are retching and gagging, feeling oh so incredibly awful. The blood makes it burn unbearably and yet you can’t stop. It’s spilling out of you, giving you no control over it.

“Darling”, Taehyung kneels down next to you. He places his hand on your back, patting it softly to make it easier for you, “oh darling. Did you drink too much?”

You gag again, convulsing oh so painfully. It burns. Throwing up blood burns just as much as it does when you swallow it. Maybe it burns even more as throwing up hurts on normal days already. It really hurts so much. You cry. It hurts so much.

“Oh no, this must be awful. It’s okay darling, let it all out. I’m here now.”

“Tae”, you sob, wheezing for air, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise darling. It happens to the best of us”, he assures you oh so sweetly, caressing the back of your head, “just don’t fight it. You will feel better afterwards.”

The gagging stops. There is physically nothing inside of you anymore which your body could get rid of. But the tears continue. They stream down your face heavy and hot, ruining your makeup.

You stare at what you had just done. The darkness of the night hides its true colour. It must be black. Black as the blood which is still rooted into your veins.

“Fuck”, you croak, “holy fuck. Taehyung I have to-”

“Here”, Jimin interrupts you, “drink this.”

You turn your head. He forces a bottle of water into your hand. His eyes are dark in warning.

“Yes darling, drink it”, Taehyung says, opening the bottle for you, “drink, it’ll do you good.”

“Yes ___, drink”, Jimin presses out through gritted teeth, lifting his brows in a way that lets you know that right now he is telling you to swallow down whatever you wanted to say and drink that stupid water instead.

You whimper, spilling tears which hardly affect him. Or so you think. The moment you look away, the guilt returns to Jimin’s features.

“Come now, drink”, Taehyung speaks to you in a soft voice, soothing over your hair.

You turn to him. There is no darkness on his face. Just worry.

In an instant, he reaches out to dry your tears, giving you a reassuring smile.

With shaking fingers you lift the bottle to your lips and begin drinking. The water is cold. As if it was fresh out of the fridge. Jimin must have purchased it in the club. It would be a sweet gesture, if you didn’t know better. He didn’t do this because he was worried and wanted you to feel better. This is part of his plan to make it look as if you were too drunk.

You feel drunk. You know that you aren’t because you didn’t drink a lot tonight. You still feel drunk however. Dizzy, far away and not like yourself. You are aware that this is the panic and guilt playing your body like it’s a game. It’s the worst feeling have you ever experienced.

“Tae, I want to go home”, you press out.

“Of course”, he says and picks you up gently, “come now, relax against me sweetest. I’ve got you.”

He takes two steps with you in his arms when he turns and looks at Jimin.

“Jimin, aren’t you coming?” he asks.

Jimin looks at you, grinds his teeth then looks at Taehyung.

“Sure, I’m already coming”, he grumbles, jogging to catch up with you.

You don’t see the guilty look he sends you, as you are hiding away in Taehyung’s shoulder, soaking his shirt with your guilty tears.

What have you done?

You aren’t alone when you enter the apartment. The lights are turned on and the television is blasting sounds.

Seokjin is still awake, relaxing with a random movie and a glass of blood. He turns his head even before you could announce yourself. He watches as Taehyung sets you down.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Seokjin is on his feet and by the door instantly.

You stumble while your eyes are out of focus and your arms seem to tangle weakly.

“Holy shit, ___. What happened? You look awful.”

“Seokjin I-”

“Nothing happened. She’s just drunk, a total lightweight. She threw up all over the streets”, Jimin says and picks you up after you stumbled again, “I’ve got you”, he says and hurries upstairs. He whispers into your ear when you are far enough away, “stay quiet. Hear me?”

Seokjin and Taehyung follow you, appearing by Jimin’s side. Jimin lifts his head again, sneaking a suspicious glance at Taehyung.

“Are you sure that she’s alright? She looks like death.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong”, Taehyung says, soothing you by rubbing your back, “maybe someone drugged her drink? I didn’t see.”

Nobody drugged you. At least not like humans drug other humans. Jimin did. Jimin drugged you with his blood and now one wrong step and you could turn into a Glutton. You aren’t clear in the head because anxiety is quite literally making you feel disorientated.

“Take her to my room. Right here”, Taehyung tells Jimin, opening his bedroom door.

“Don’t worry my darling, it’s really not far anymore”, Taehyung says with unbearable worry in his voice.

“Shouldn’t we take her to a hospital? What if it is serious?” Seokjin asks.

“I thought that I could give her some of my blood if it gets worse.”

He misses the way Jimin looks to the side because of it.

“Tzt”, Seokjin seems displeased, but won’t dwell on it right now for the sake of you.

But no hospital could help you. No amount of Taehyung’s blood could help you. Your veins were filled with a cursed secret and you were slipping further and further away from reality.

Seokjin is talking to you. Taehyung says something as well.

You can’t hear them. Well, you hear them but they are far, far away from you. As if you were underwater sinking further and further down into darkness.

Hands are on your body. Someone is talking to you.

You feel hardness hit your back. Maybe this it's the ocean floor.

Fire. Stinging, unbearable fire. It rains down on you and makes you gasp for air. It burns. It is so hot. It is so loud. Rushing in your ears.

You can’t stop shivering. Your muscles ache from tensing. Your teeth are sensitive from clattering.

The fire stops, leaving behind wet skin.

“I’m sorry”, Taehyung’s voice is clear in your ears again.

You peel your eyes open, blink in disorientation.

You are in the bathtub, propped up against the wall.

You lift your head. His face is in your vision, pulled into a grimace of utter worry. His shirt and pants are soaked as he is kneeling in front of you with the shower head in his hand

“Are you feeling alright? I’m sorry for doing this to you. I had to get you back to me”, he says.

You look around the room. It’s just the two of you.

“I sent the others away. I had to get you out of your clothes. They were full of sick”, Taehyung brushes his wet thumb over your cheekbones, “did Jimin hurt you?”

“Tae”, you press out and sob. The dam breaks. Like the water once raining down on you, all it took for you to break was his safe presence.

“He did, didn’t he? Did he force himself onto you?”

You shake your head.

“So what else? Oh my darling, what did he do to you?”

You are hurting oh so much. You want to tell him what happened, but you can’t. You physically can’t bring yourself to speak the words. You would break Taehyung’s heart. That’s what Jimin said. The truth would hurt him and it would be your fault. Solely imagining such a future forces your chest to tighten in anxiety and guilt and for your tears to feel unending.

“N-nothing”, you choke out, shaking your head.

You don’t want to break his heart. You don’t want to lie. Please someone take this burden from you.

“It’s, all too much. It’s too much.”

“Hush, it’s okay. You’re back home now, nothing will hurt you here”, he whispers and picks you up.

He sits you down on the edge of the bathtub and wraps a warm, dry towel around your body.

His arms engulf you, pressing you against his strong chest. You are still shivering, but at least your muscles ache less.

“You can tell me anything, I promise you that I won’t be angry at you”, Taehyung whispers, kissing the crown of your head repeatedly.

“Tae, I have to-”

“I’ve got some water”, Jimin interrupts you, entering the room right as you were about to confess the secret.

Oh you want to cry. Why is he always interrupting you? You sob louder, hiding away in Taehyung with your trembling fingers barely managing to hold him.

“Put it on my nightstand”, Taehyung’s voice is cold, “did you hurt her? I swear to god if you did something she didn’t consent to, I will make sure you truly die”, he snarls at Jimin.

“I didn’t”, Jimin stumbles back, “I swear. I hate nothing more than sexual predators. You know that. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I sure hope you didn’t or else you can go back to where you came from.”

Jimin closes his mouth, looking at you with panicky eyes.

“I, I didn’t”, he whispers, shaking his head vigorously.

So Jimin was right. Telling Taehyung would ruin their friendship and break his heart. Oh no, Jimin was right. He was right. You can’t tell him. You sob. Why is this happening to you?

“Leave us alone”, Taehyung hisses at Jimin.

“But I can help.”

“No. You’re making it worse. Leave.”

Jimin glances at you. “Fuck”, he presses out and leaves with his stomach twisted in nervousness.

The door closes.

Taehyung turns back to you, squatting down in front of you.

“I’m here, my sweetest”, Taehyung is speaking to you again, soft and full of love, “wrap your arms around me and let’s get you into some clothes”, he speaks softly, picking you up with ease to carry you outside.

He sets you down on the armchair and squats down before you, keeping his hands on your thigh to make sure your mind stays with him.

“I will take off your towel, is that alright?”

You nod your head wordlessly, sobbing into your hands.

Taehyung takes off your towel so he could pat you dry.

So now you are before him naked and with a sickening secret on your tongue. Never before have you felt more uncomfortable with being bared in front of him. Like this, it feels as if he could see right through your lies.

Your cheeks burn as new tears spill out of you. Taehyung wipes them away, just as he dries your body carefully. Your legs and feet first, then your torso and arms. And lastly your face. He works carefully around your nose and ears, doing his best not to tug on them in any way.

“There we go, you’re all dry now. Come now, wrap your arms around my neck.”

You obey. Taehyung lifts you to carry you to bed.

The door opens just as he manages to pull the blanket over your body.

Seokjin seems to be back, he has Yoongi and Hoseok following him. Jimin sneaks into the room as well, hovering behind them like a nervous shadow.

“What the hell happened?” Yoongi sounds angry in worry.

“Why would you bring him?” you hear Taehyung ask. He sounds scared.

“Because he knows what to do”, Seokjin seems to answer him and then their conversation dies out in your ears.

Yoongi is calling your attention. He is by your side in the blink of an eye, holding your hand, “she’s ice cold. What did you do to her?”

“Nothing, I didn’t do anything”, Taehyung says, voice sounding distorted in guilt, “she was fine until suddenly she couldn’t breathe anymore and seconds later she threw up. I didn’t do anything.”

“Tch”, Yoongi sends Taehyung a dark look then turns to you. He cups your face, runs his thumb over your cheekbone, “princess.”

Your eyes, once restless in anxiety, focus on his face.

“Yoongi”, you press out, “Yoongi, please don’t let me die.”

The plead was heavy in your desperation. It was urgent. Oh so urgent. Please don’t let me die and come back a Glutton. Please don’t let me turn into this.

“Hey, of course not”, he doesn’t know of the grandiosity however, “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Promise me Yoongi, please.”

“I promise you”, Yoongi says and squeezes your hand, “I promise you with all my heart.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know, I can smell it. But don’t be. You are drunk, very drunk so it seems. I can smell the booze, it’s so strong”, you don’t miss the icy glance he sends at Taehyung, “and that state feels awful, but you’ll feel normal again come tomorrow. I promise.”

“Can I? Can I really be Normal?”

“Yes princess. You can be normal, I promise. It’ll pass, I promise.”

“Yoongi please hold me”, you beg, crying heavy tears.

“Come here”, he says, picking you up from bed to cradle you against his chest. He makes sure that you are wrapped in the blanket to cover your bared body from the looks of others, but also to keep you warm. You are shaking like crazy in his arms and you are ice cold.

“Thank you”, you press out and cry into the crook of his neck.

“It’s okay. I’m right here”, Yoongi whispers, turning to leave.

Taehyung steps in front of him. Yoongi stops and scowls.

“Where are you taking her?” Taehyung asks.

“My room, I’m not leaving her with you.”

“But I can take care of her too.”

“No you can’t. You couldn’t even stop her from getting so fucking drunk. You’re a great boyfriend aren’t you? Do you even know how reckless this was? What if she fell and hurt herself or stumbled into a random vampire’s arms and he bit her?”

“Don’t put this on me. I truly monitored how much she was drinking because I didn’t want her to go through something like that. I don’t know what happened, you have to believe me”, Taehyung defends himself.

Yoongi clicks his tongue and bounces you in his arms to fix his grip, “at least you brought her home safely. I’m taking over now.”

“Do you truly trust me that little?”

“I’m taking over now”, Yoongi hisses through gritted teeth, flashing Taehyung his real eyes.

Taehyung stumbles back and closes his mouth, knowing that it was time for him to shut up.

“Okay”, he gets out, “fine. Take over. Fuck”, he hisses then turns to you, touching your back, “I’m so sorry darling, I really didn’t want you to get that drunk.”

“I know.”

“Oh darling”, he says and pouts, “I feel terrible. I’m so sorry that I didn’t take better care of you.” He places his chin on your shoulder even if that makes Yoongi frown and almost move you away from him. “I’m truly so regretful”, he confesses and lowers his forehead to your shoulder, “it won’t happen again, I promise”, he whispers.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault”, you say, speaking the truth. It wasn’t his fault.

He inhales you deeply and shudders.

“Oh darling”, he whispers, “Yoongi is right. The alcohol is overshadowing everything. I can’t smell anything other than alcohol. I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay”, you tell him quietly.

“You should sleep. It’s the best remedy against too much alcohol”, Taehyung says and makes sure you are tugged in safely, “Yoongi is going to stay with you and I’ll be just next door. Nothing can hurt you anymore.”

Yoongi looks at Taehyung one last time. He is so angry, but doesn’t let it show for your sake. He knew that entrusting your wellbeing with him would be a mistake. He never should have trusted him that much.

“Tch”, he turns his head away and leaves, followed by Seokjin and Hoseok. He makes sure to bump his shoulder with Jimin on the way out with such vigour that the latter stumbles back with a pained groan.

The door falls closed and Taehyung is all alone with Jimin. He turns, touching the side of his neck.

“Fuck”, he presses out, “what happened, Jimin?”

“I, I don’t- listen, Tae, listen I don’t know what happened. Serious.”

Hoseok and Seokjin follow you to Yoongi’s room, watching you shiver in his arms with worry in their chests. Yoongi places you down on his bed, making sure the blanket still covers you and then steps back to get some clothes.

You reach for him when his hand slips from yours but you feel too exhausted to truly hold him close. So Yoongi steps back and makes space for Hoseok and Seokjin.

Seokjin places a glass of water by your bedside table.

“You should drink this, it will lessen the hangover tomorrow”, he says.

Hoseok places a rubbish bin next to the bed.

“I learned this trick during my college days. If you need to throw up, just do so in the bin. Works wonders, it really does”, he says and then nudges your shoulder, “hang in there ___, don’t forget to stick out one leg to ground yourself. You’re our strongest soldier tonight, I salute you”, he says and does a big salute, looking oh so adorable doing it.

You give them each a weak smile and watch how they retreat back to Yoongi. They are talking quietly, but you can still hear them.

“She seems to be really drunk”, Hoseok says, “I couldn’t smell drugs on her, just booze.”

“Yeah neither could I. She reeks of booze though, it overshadows everything else”, Yoongi says and looks at you, “fucking Tae and his cunt best friend, I never should have let her go out with them.”

“I’m sure that she appreciates that you are not acting like a controlling boyfriend though”, Seokjin says.

“Yeah, totally. Controlling partners are a huge ick”, Hoseok agrees, “she’s a grown woman and very capable of deciding if she wants to go somewhere or not.”

“Mhm, I know”, Yoongi nods his head, “now leave, I have everything under control.”

“Yeah”, they both nod their heads then send you a reassuring smile.

“Sleep tight, ___”, Seokjin says.

“Yeah and don’t forget to put your leg out of the blanket if you’re too dizzy”, Hoseok says.

You nod your head. They leave seconds later, abandoning you with Yoongi.

You close your eyes and exhale shakily. You feel so defeated. A part of you had hoped that Yoongi would be able to smell that something was off. That something about you carried a burdening scent to you and that he would expose Jimin’s secret that way. If he had, then you wouldn’t have to carry around such a big secret. But Yoongi couldn’t smell anything, because of all the stupid alcohol you consumed tonight. And so you are still left with the terrible secret gnawing at your insides.

You didn’t even realise that you were crying again until you feel Yoongi wipe them away with his healing, always safe touch.

“Don’t cry my princess, I’m here now. You’re safe”, he whispers and with it, calms you down. He calms you down because having him close again reminded you that for as long as you have Yoongi by your side, nothing will hurt you. You won’t die in the next three days because Yoongi will be there to prevent it. Jimin’s curse will leave your body again and you will be able to live on.

You peel your eyes open, realising that he is kneeling by your side. His face is mere inches away. Looking into his eyes feels like coming home.

“Yoongi”, you croak, seeking refuge by cupping his cheek weakly, “please don’t leave me.”

“Of course I won’t leave you. The fuck you talking about, you drunk baby?” he says and kisses your palm, “I could never leave you. Now come, sit up. I’ll give you one of my shirts.”

“The really comfy one, please.”

“Of course”, he smiles sweetly, moving closer so he could nudge your cheek with his nose, “only the comfiest clothes for my princess”, he whispers, making you giggle because it feels good to be his princess.

222 notes · View notes

m-jelly · 6 months

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The end

Thank you @ladycheesington for the perfect banner

Vampire Levi x fem!reader

Victorian era like world, vampires, secrets, romance, falling in love, vampire lore, sexual tension, possessive Levi, mentions of pregnancy, protective Levi, dad Levi, mentions of violence, mentions of blood.

In this chapter: Levi butts heads with his son and best friend over the final plan to face Damian, but a bit of a chat with you leads him to make up with his wonderful son and friend. You face off against Damian and put an end to it all. With a new addition to the Ackerman family, you plan a fun thing for the future.

Levi paced backwards and forwards as he contemplated what was just told to him. Many emotions flooded through him. At first, he was furious, then scared and finally sad. A deep growl escaped him. “I don’t like it.”

Evan looked over at Erwin, and the two of them showed a knowing look before Evan returned his gaze to his father. “Dad.”

“Don’t you dad me.” Levi welled up. “You don’t understand. I can’t send my soulmate to that monster. I can’t lose her.” He shook a little. “I almost…not again.”

“We’ve tried everything to get to him. He won’t show his face to us.” He moved closer to his father. “He only showed up in person when mother was vulnerable.”

“She’s pregnant right now.” Levi snarled. “You want me to send your pregnant mother to face him?”

Evan ruffled his hair. “I love you and I love Mum. I love you both so fucking much. It is killing me to suggest this, but if we don’t do this he won’t stop.”

Levi stared at his beloved son and his best friend. A fight or flight sensation coursed through him, and a panic set in. He turned on his heels and sprinted out of the room, down the hall and right to you in your reading room. Seeing you sitting there with a blanket over you and a book in hand soothed him instantly. Tears filled his eyes when you looked up at him and gave him a loving smile.

He stumbled over to you and dropped to his knees. He rested his arms and head on your lap seeking comfort and you gave it by playing with his hair. “Mm.”

You smiled a little. “What’s going on?”

“I got upset with our son. I feel awful, but I don’t like what he’s suggesting. I know he’s trying his best. He’s a strong and smart lad, but I just…”

You continued to play with his hair and started to rub his back. “Darling, he knows you mean well. He knows you love him. He’s also very understanding because he knows how obsessed you are with me.”

He pouted a little. “You’re mine.”

You hummed a laugh. “I am. Now, tell me about this plan he has.”

Levi lifted his head and gazed at you. “The ex-prince will only come out of hiding if you are free to approach. He thinks you should be bait.”

You smiled at Levi. “I think he’s right.”

Levi went pale. “What? No! No, no, no, no. You can’t. The baby and, and, and…” Tears filled his eyes. “I could lose you.”

You moved your book to your table before sliding off your seat and wrapping your arms around him. “You won’t lose me. All of you will be watching me when I do, I’m sure of it. If it looks like it will go bad, you and the others will come running in.”

He nodded. “I will save you. I always will.”

“I love you, Levi.”

“I love you too.”

You kissed your husband and hummed in delight. “It’ll be okay. Think of it this way. Once we do this, he’ll be gone forever.”

Levi whined before flopping onto the floor on his side. “Mm.”

You giggled. “You’re like a toddler.”

“I know it’s right, but I’m not happy.”

You lay on your side and gazed at him. “Well, you love babies but you don’t like me giving birth.”

He sighed. “Because you’re in discomfort.” He huffed in thought. “Sometimes, things must be bad to become good or for you to appreciate the good.” He released a long sigh. “Okay.” He sat up and whined. “I need to say sorry to our son.”

“He’s outside the door.”

Evan slammed the door open. “How did you know?”

You wrapped up in a blanket. “Mother’s six sense.” You stood up and kissed Evan’s cheek. “You’re a good boy. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He hugged you tightly. “I only want the best for you, Mum. No matter what.”

“I know, sweetheart.” You released him. “Go hug your father. He’s a bit of a sad bear.”

Levi pouted a little. “Son…”

Evan tackled Levi into a hug. “I love you, Dad. You’re the best, you really are.”

Levi pulled him to sit. “Let’s talk this through.”

Evan placed his hand on his father’s shoulder. “I understand you want to protect Mum. I want to protect her too. To do that, we need to get the ex-prince and kill him. To kill him, he needs to get out in the open. To get him to appear, we need mother to help.”

“I know. I just…I don’t want her to get hurt. I’m very torn.” He put his head in his hands. “It’s hard.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you feel or what you’re going through.” Evan smiled a little. “I hope that one day I meet someone who I can have a deep love with, just like Mum and you have. I think then I’ll understand.” He released a long sigh. “For now, we need to do this.”

Levi nodded. “I understand. As long as we can watch her from a distance, I’m happy. If something looks bad, I will go running to her. I’m not letting her get hurt again.” He walked over to you and held your hands. “Not again.”

You smiled sweetly before kissing him. “It’s only a few scars I have.”

“Scars you shouldn’t have gotten if I had been a better husband.”

“You’re the perfect husband.” You hugged your husband. “Please be nicer to yourself.”

He hugged you back. “I’ll try.”

“Good boy. If you do well, I’ll reward you.”

His eyes widened. “Reward? What kind of reward?”

You pressed the end of his nose. “Secret.” You let out a long sigh. “Well, I’m going to go help in the kitchen. I’m going to cook dinner. I think I’ll make your favourite.”

Levi gasped. “Sausages!?”

You giggled. “Yes, now do some father-son bonding.”

Levi sat down and played with the book you had been reading. He opened it up and read a part you’d been reading a lot. His eyes scanned the page and as he read his cheeks slowly heated up. Every time Levi had seen you reading, you had been reading smut and it was perfect and detailed. He slapped the book closed and placed it on the side. A thought drifted through his head, he was thinking of reading again and trying out a few things in there on you.

He ensured the book was hidden from his son and began talking with him about work, his aims, his goals and a bit about his love life. Levi smiled as he listened to his son talk. “I’m so proud of you.”

Evan blushed. “Really?”

“Yes. You’re incredible, you really are.”

Evan hugged Levi. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too.” He sighed. “I’m sorry for how I reacted.”

Evan sat down. “It’s understandable. Mum is your whole world. The bond vampires have with their families and the people their love is stronger than simple human love. It’s hard to describe.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to have that love with a partner.” He chuckled. “But I do understand a bit because I love you, Mum and all my sisters.” He fiddled with his trousers. “I can’t wait to meet our new sibling. I wonder if it’ll be a girl or a boy.” He gasped. “What about a boy?”

Levi laughed. “That’d be great. We have to think of names though.”

Evan hummed in thought. “So many options.” He looked over at Levi to see tears running down his cheeks. “Dad! What’s wrong?”

He rubbed his tears away. “Sorry, I’m just happy that we’re having another kid. I love all my children and having more is fantastic. It’s odd though.”

“That you and mum have the most children ever recorded for vampires.”

Levi blushed a bit. “Yes. I wonder who it is.”

Evan laughed. “I bet it’s you. Mum was turned into a vampire, so it’s likely something to do with you.” Evan frowned in thought. “Does this mean…” His eyes sparkled in delight. “I could have lots of kids!”

“You’ll be an amazing father.”

“Thanks. I have a great father who inspires me.”

Levi hugged Evan tightly. “I love you.”

Evan hugged his father back. “Love you too.” He released his father. “We should go to the dining room. Mum has made delicious dinner.”

Levi walked with his son. “We’ll plan soon about our attack.” He smiled when he saw Erwin chatting with Violet. “Erwin? The plan is on.”

Erwin picked up Violet and smiled. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. We’ve all talked and we’re going for it.”

Erwin nodded and smiled. “Okay, we’ll start planning soon.”

“We’re going to dinner. Please join us.”

Erwin chuckled as he walked with his best friend. “I can’t say no to your wife’s cooking.”

Levi cupped your face. “Are you sure about this?”

You placed your hands on Levi’s. “Yes. I can do this.”

“If you want to walk away, just say at any moment.”

You hugged Levi tightly. “I promise.” You hummed a laugh. “Feels weird wearing my old Victorian clothes though.”

“You look incredible. It brings back memories.” He squeezed you tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You giggled as your kids tackled you into a hug. “I love you all too. I’ll be okay.”

Lilly whined. “I’m worried for you mum.”

Daisy sniffed. “Me too. He’s dangerous. I know Dad is crazy about you, but he’s good crazy. This ex-prince is just…”

You smiled a little. “I know. I know…” You released a long sigh. “I know the risks. I love you all so very much. You’re all so wonderful. I’m proud to be your mother and I’m proud to be your wife, Levi.”

Levi pulled you away from the kids. “You’re talking as if you’re not coming back.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I just…I want everyone to know I love them.”

Levi hugged you tightly. “You will live. We will be a big happy family again.”

You welled up a little as you smiled. “You’re right. I let everything get to me. Gotta think positive.”

“Good girl.” He wiped your tears away. “We’ll be right with you, always.”

You released a long sigh. “All right, let’s do this.” You grabbed your handbag and puffed your chest out. “Time to go pretend shopping!” You waved to your family before leaving the house and getting into a car. You smiled at the driver. “Let’s head out.”

The driver nodded. “You got it, Mrs Ackerman.”

You sat back and looked at your phone to see Levi and your kids had sent you plenty of texts of love already. You replied to all of them. It was a hard job ahead of you today. Damian needed to believe that you were available and ready for the taking. You had to try your best to act calm and not have a reaction to him.

Focusing on shopping was difficult at first because you were hyper-aware of your surroundings, but then you noticed gifts your kids would love. You grabbed a basket and started shopping for all kinds of things for your kids, as well as your wonderful husband. You were buzzing with excitement allowing your mind to wander away from what task you had to do.

After you paid for everything you went for a walk. The modern world was so much fun, but you did miss the people from the 1800s. Levi still used his romantic ways from the 1800s, such as getting you a dressmaker, a jewellery maker and writing you letters filled with love. He even took you on long walks in your vast garden and a little boating on the lake you lived near.

You paused for a moment and thought about going home to Levi. You wanted to take him on a romantic date like old times. You wanted to see Levi in his handsome old suit as well. You wanted to dance together and have him take your dress off.

“Mommy! Pretty vampire lady!”

You felt your cheeks burn as a little girl admired you in your Victorian dress. “Aww.”

The mother came over to you. “Sorry, could my daughter have a closer look?”

You nodded. “Yes.” You smiled at the little girl. “You like my dress?”

She nodded. “Yes.” She reached over and touched your dress. “So pretty.”

You giggled as she touched and pulled on your dress. “Thank you. My daughters love them too.”

“Mummy, can I dress like this pretty lady?”

The mother laughed. “Sure. We’ll get you a pretty dress.” She smiled at you. “Thank you for this.”

Your heart fluttered. “You’re welcome.”

“You and your husband make a charming couple. I bet you’re looking forward to your baby arriving.”

A little gasp escaped you when an arm wrapped around you and pulled you close. The voice of your target came from the man next to you. “Thank you. We’re very excited. Have a lovely day.”

You looked up at Damian as he grinned at the mother and daughter walking away. “You came.”

He looked down at you. “Of course. I could never leave my pregnant wife all alone to shop.”

You gripped your bag with the gifts of your family in. “We need to talk.”

He chuckled. “That’s divorce talk.”

You sighed before walking with Damian to a little spot where you had some privacy from the public, but your family and friends could keep an eye on you. “Why me?”

“Sorry?”

You locked eyes with him. “Damian. I want to know why me.”

He smiled sweetly. “You’re the only person who understands me. You know my pain.”

You hugged yourself. “Just because we share a similar pain does not mean we’re destined for each other.”

He moved closer to you. “If you never met Levi…”

“Damian, don’t.”

“I need to know. If you never met him, would I have a chance?”

You shook your head. “That’s a cruel and horrible thing to ask. I met you after I met Levi. I have never had any feelings for you or anyone else. Levi is the only man in my heart. I have never considered another man. So, asking if there was or is a chance would be a no because I’ve never thought about you at all. Levi is my lover. Levi is my husband. Levi is my soulmate. Levi is the father to my children.” You blushed a little. “Levi is the only one that makes me hungry and tingle all over with need. Levi is the only one who can who can satisfy my needs.”

“No sorry?”

You frowned. “Why would I be? I need you to stop this. Please stop this.”

He softly said your name. “I can’t stop loving you.”

“Just walk away. I won’t ever be yours.”

He clenched his fists. “I was going to give you a chance to come quietly with me. I don’t ever want to become my sister, but now she’s gone and I reflect on how she was with Levi. I understand now.” He laughed a little as his look went dark. “I need you. I need you like I need blood to live. You are my everything. I refuse to let you go.”

You backed up from him. “If you don’t stop this, you will be killed. You’re a danger to me, my family and others. You have a chance to walk away. I’m asking you to walk because you did help me once.”

His laughing was light at first before it slowly turned maniacal and insane. “You think I helped you out of the goodness of my heart!? I made a deal with my sister. I’d help her get Levi if she gave me you. I did it so I could get you. It was all to get you to be mine. I didn’t help you to be kind. I did it so you’d want me.” He shook his head. “I only killed my sister because she was getting in the way. I needed freedom.” He ruffled his hair. “I didn’t realise losing a twin was so devastating. I’m all better now though.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you gazed at Damian. Even though most people saw Damian as a monster, you saw this child who was beaten, bruised and tortured by someone who was supposed to love and care for him. He was a broken person so desperate for love that he had given in to the darkness within him. He was someone who found more comfort in the dark voices than the good.

You clutched your chest. “Oh…oh Damian…”

He gazed at you with a look of confusion. For a small moment, he was registering everything, almost like he was piecing things together. The moment didn’t last long because the darkness consumed him. Damian was lost and there was no saving him. There were so many things that Damian had done without your knowledge. Levi had thought the same things you had many years ago until he learned about Damian’s cruelty to his workers in his home. Damian was just as wicked as his sister.

You backed up from him. “I need to go. I’m feeling a little sick because of the baby.” You hurried away just as he reached for you. “Fuck.”

Damian screamed your name. “Come back! I need you!”

You hurried out of the shopping centre and looked for your car. “I want to go home.” You sobbed a little as your heart strained. It hurt that the man who saved you was not kind. The man who saved you could have easily been you one day if it were not for Levi saving you. “I want my Levi.”

Daisy appeared in front of you making you gasp. “It’s okay mum. I’m the rescue. Dad and everyone are in place.” She hugged you close. “Come on.”

You sniffed as you hurried with her. “I thought maybe there was a chance I could save him.”

“You really are too kind, Mum.” She stopped in her tracks as she gazed at Damian. “Don’t you touch my mother!”

Damian chuckled. “You know, if I gave you red eyes you’d be like my daughter.”

She snarled. “My father is the great Levi Ackerman! You have hurt my mother long enough. You have to leave.”

He released a long sigh. “Where is Evan? My perfect family is Evan and her.” He smirked. “I don’t need you or your two other sisters.”

She inhaled deeply. “DADDY!”

You gasped as you watched Damian get tackled to the ground. “Levi.”

Daisy gripped your hand and started running. “We have to go!”

You looked back as Levi and Damian tore into each other. Your son and Lilly arrived to help, along with Erwin, Hange and Mike. Your heart went cold when you saw that backup for Damian was arriving, his army was here. “Daisy, we have to help.”

“Dad said-.”

“I know! But we could lose our family and friends if we don’t.”

She slowed down and looked over at the fighting. Heads were being ripped off and hearts were being torn out of chests. The bloodshed was hard to watch, even more so when she saw Mike get smacked to the ground with blood on his chest and Lilly trying to protect him as he healed up. She looked back at you. “Let’s go.”

You ran over to Mike and pulled him away from the fighting. “I’ve got you.”

Mike panted a little. “Thanks.”

Lilly grabbed your upper arm. “Mum! You can’t be here!”

You yanked your arm away and fumbled in your bag. “I am needed here.” You got out some blood you always had on you and fed Mike. “Here.”

Mike gulped down the blood you gave him. “Thank you. I can tell you’re a Mum.”

Your cheeks burned. “I take care of the people I love.”

“When are we telling Levi?”

You giggled. “Naughty. Get back out there.”

“Got it.” He winked at you and rushed into the fight.

You pulled all your blood-based drinks and food out of your purse. “Okay, Daisy bring me anyone who gets hurt.”

Daisy nodded and watched the fight. “Ah! Uncle Erwin!” She used her speed to weave in and out of the fighting and tackled Erwin. She skidded and ran back to you. “His arm!”

You grabbed a blood booster. “I use this when the kids feel unwell. I can’t have Kat getting upset over you losing an arm.”

Erwin grunted. “Thanks. Don’t worry, I’ll get back to Kat and marry her, turn her, have kids and live forever with her in my arms.”

“Good boy.” You patted his chest. “Take your time.”

“I will.”

You watched him rush back in. Your eyes moved to Evan as he took on the second in command. You felt so much pride in yourself when he used his father’s fighting techniques to beat him back. He twisted his body as the man threw punch after punch. Evan caught his fist and then twisted his arm causing all the bones in his arm and hand to shatter to pieces. Evan yanked the man downward before twisting his body and kicking up into the man’s neck.

Lilly had such powerful strength and pure rage inside her, just like you. She easily tore a door off and slammed it into a vampire to send him flying. She screamed before hurtling the door into a running vampire. She snarled at her next target. “No one hurts my momma!”

Daisy giggled. “Lilly is scary.”

You hummed a laugh. “She is. Oh, she’s teaming up with Evan.”

Daisy shoved you to the ground. “Mum!”

You watched in pure horror as your daughter was tackled away from you by a beaten Damian. “DAISY!” You raced after him with all your kids and Levi following. “Give her back to me!”

Daisy slapped and scratched Damian. “Let me go!”

Damian smirked. “If I can’t have your mother, at least I can have a daughter of hers like her!”

You saw red. Nothing enraged you more than someone putting a child of yours in danger. You snarled and launched yourself at Damian. You took him to the ground causing him to drop Daisy. You rolled with Damian and came to a stop. You straddled him and started punching him in the face over and over. Rage filled you. Your whole being was consumed with the need to end the man below you to protect what was yours.

Damian reached out and wrapped his hands around your neck. He used his strength and weight to shove you on your back. The look in his eyes was not that of manic love anymore, but pure killing need. The look reminded you of his sister. He was just like him, no matter how much you tried to think that there was hope, there wasn’t. Damian wanted to hurt and break you enough so you’d give in to him.

You turned your head and bit hard on his arm and tore his flesh causing him to scream. Once he released you, you spat out his flesh and dove at him again. You clawed, hit and bit him as much as possible. You yelped when he backhanded you off him. You slammed against the floor and rolled away. A little whimper escaped from you as your cheek felt like it was burning, meaning he had hit you with silver on his hand.

Levi screamed your name and kicked Damian hard into a car causing it to dent and buckle under the impact. “I’ll kill you!”

Evan hugged you tightly. “Don’t look, mummy.” He squeezed you tightly and then was joined by your two daughters. “Hug her with me.”

You welled up and relaxed. “Thank you, all of you.” You closed your eyes as Damian gargled on his blood. You ignored the screams of a man’s last attempt to fight back as he tried to survive and live. “I’m so proud of you all. I love you.”

“Love you too, mum.”

Lilly kissed your cheek. “Love you so much, mummy.”

Daisy squeezed you. “Love you forever.”

Levi panted as he stumbled closer. “Is she okay?”

Evan released you first before your two girls. “She is. We protected her.”

“You’re wonderful kids. I’m proud of you all.” He hugged them before looking at you. “Darling.”

You over into his arms. “Levi!”

He hugged you tightly. “We’re free now. The Monroe’s are gone.”

“Good. Is Violet okay?”

He smiled sweetly. “Safely protected by my parents and yours. Are you and the baby okay?”

You nodded. “We’re good.”

He held you close. “Good. Let’s go home.”

Tiredness gripped Levi as he got up out of bed and shuffled his way out of the room, down the hall and to Ren’s room. He slipped inside and heard the hushed whimpers and cries coming from him. Levi smiled down at his baby boy, who was only two months old. He scooped him up and rocked him. “You hungry?” He yawned and rocked Ren. “I’ll get you some of your mummy’s milk.”

He stumbled out of the room and made his way down the hall. He frowned when he saw his kids slowly joining him. He shook his head and went to the kitchen and found a bottle. He heated it and turned to see a tired-looking Evan walking in.

Evan yawned a moment before looking down at Ren. “Hungry?”

“Yeah.” Levi frowned. “Why are you awake?”

“I just get this sense when he cries.”

Lilly shoved the door open. “Ren okay?”

Levi laughed a bit. “He’s good, just hungry.”

Daisy walked in holding Violet’s hand. “Ren up?”

Levi picked up the bottle. “Yes. He’s just hungry.” He smiled as Ren happily drank the milk. “Go to bed. Your mother is all alone upstairs.” He chuckled when everyone gasped and ran away. “Anything for their mother.” He looked down at Ren. “I know you’re the same, right?”

Ren patted the bottle and wiggled his legs.

Levi smiled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He put the bottle in the sink and patted Ren’s back. “One burp is all I need, little man.”

Ren whined and shifted before letting out a burp.

He shifted his son and smiled. “Good boy. Now, it’s time for bed.” He walked upstairs and hummed a little song as he rocked Ren. He came to a stop when he saw you in a stunning dressing gown. “Darling, you look ravishing.”

You giggled. “Thank you.” You walked closer and looked down at Ren. “Did he wake up hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“You could have woken me.” You kissed Levi’s cheek. “I have plenty of milk to give.”

Levi rubbed your back. “I know because when we fool around in bed and I squeeze and suck on your incredible breasts, milk comes out.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Hungry boy.”

“I am.”

You tickled Ren’s cheek. “Someone’s sleepy.”

Levi carried Ren to his cot and lay him down. “Bed it is.”

You hugged Levi from behind and kissed his shoulder. “Our babies are perfect.”

“They really are. You know, all our kids came down to see Ren.” He turned in your arms. “They sensed him crying.”

You walked with Levi out of the room. “All our kids have had that.”

“They have.” Levi sighed. “Oi, I told you lot to go to bed.”

You giggled as doors hurriedly closed. “Night my babies.”

The doors opened and all your kids spoke. “Night mummy and daddy!”

You laughed as they closed again. “So cute.”

Levi scooped you up into his arms and carried you into the bedroom. He used his bum to close the door and smiled at you. “Could you lock the door?”

You locked it and giggled. “Locking the door, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have plans with me?”

He threw you onto the bed and growled as you squealed with laughter. “You know I do.”

You squeaked when he dove at you. “Levi.”

He crashed his lips against yours and kissed you passionately. “I love you.”

You linked your arms around his neck. “I love you.” You let out a long sigh. “Fuck, I love you. I’m one lucky woman.”

He nuzzled the crook of your neck. “No, I’m the lucky one. You’re so perfect.” He released a long sigh. “We should do something special for our anniversary.”

“What do you have in mind?”

He hummed in thought as you played with his hair. “I’m thinking we dress up like we did when we first started becoming a couple.”

You smiled in thought. “Our Victorian clothes?”

“Yes.”

“I think that’d be perfect.”

Levi leaned up and looked down at you. “Really?”

You nodded as you looked up at your husband. “Really. I think it’ll be fun! We can get the kids to dress up too.”

“Yes, we’ll have a little fun day in the garden.”

You sighed as memories came flooding in of your early days with Levi. “I can’t wait.”

63 notes · View notes

2af-afterdark · 27 days

Note

do u have any dark hcs for whb? and please go wild with it

You sure? You absolutely positive? I have quite a few that cover various topics so... general content warning. I just... do not have the head space to list them all, but assume that this will cover sexual themes, eating things, violence, and the like.

I admit that... these are more of a... dark au sort of thing than actual headcanons. I do think whb has some potentially dark content, but I am just going wild here and throwing out the whole fucking mess in my head. It's not everything, but it's a start.

If you click the read more, that's on you:

Devils have been making deals with humans for millennia and not all of those deals are fair. In fact, I would argue that very few of them are far. Devils don't lie about their end of the deal, but they can sure as hell twist what the truth is. Think about old school fae and their carefully worded deals.

That said, since all things in the human world originate from Hell... that must include tragedies. I think that some tragedies are the result of devil interference, whispering to humans to do awful things. Note: not all terrible things are the result of devils. Humans are just... fucked up like that.

Consent is... optional for a lot of devils. Since devils are honest with themselves, that includes their desires. I think many devils just sort of... don't think of non/dubcon as that big of an issue. Some of them definitely buy into that "isn't it a compliment" mentality.

Cannibalism! Okay, technically it's only cannibalism if a devil eats another devil (and I'm sure some do out of curiosity or because it's a delicacy) but I mean to say that devils definitely eat angels and humans. Heck, there are probably restaurants that specialize in human meat and serve it without a second thought.

On that same note, at least one of the Avisos devils is going to feed MC some questionable meat without telling them what they ate. They would probably learn what they were fed later when another devil either slips and says something, or when someone like Glasyalabolas wants to fuck with them.

Listen... you've seen some of the kinks already in this game. I have no doubt that some devils have far worse or more gross kinks. I will not elaborate because... the thought of some of them makes me sick. Not all of them are gross as much as they are... strange. Point is, I think the devils probably cover the gambit of kinks.

For our yandere lovers... a devil will get far crazier than any human ever could, to the point that it isn't sexy or fun anymore. Some yandere will surely want the best for you, but others will literally break and mold you into their ideal, some are quick to sawing off body parts, some will use punishments more than any kindness, some will beat and torment you just for the fun of it.

Making a deal for immortality? Worst possible move. I don't think many devils can make that deal, but the ones that can? You should be worried about them. Immortality makes you the perfect punching bag and toy. After all, if you never specified that you want eternal youth or to live a happy life, you are at the devil's mercy.

Devils can very easily snap a human in two. Literally. They have so much more strength than a human that it is not a contest.

Psychologically tormenting other living creatures is just a fun little game. Like "who can make someone commit suicide first" is a game that devil school children play.

Angels are just as bad as devils, but humans are brainwashed to think they are better and moral, which is somehow worse.

Angels are a little murder happy when it comes to humans who do not follow God, but they also try not to have too much interaction with humans because...

Angels see humans and devils as a lesser life form. Think... humans are basically ants to angels. They think themselves so above it all but also are aware that humans are an important part of the ecosystem. Doesn't stop them from crush humans under their heels or seeing them as pests though.

Angels picked up this attitude from God. God probably didn't see humans as anything more than cute pets or entertaining wildlife. Solomon was the one exception and, like, that's the angel equivalent of a very illegal kink I will not be naming. Yet the angels blame Solomon for tempting God...

Angels are also cannibals! They prefer devil meat though.

Since angels and devils cannot have children within their own species now that God and Lilith are missing, they will have to start breeding with other species. Again... consent is optional. I actually think Devils are slightly better is this department, but only "better" in the sense that devils are least see humans as a sentient and sapient species in the same sense as they and probably lean more into dubcon (instead of straight noncon). Also, they will at least like the children both from those unions. Angels though? Neither humans nor devils are on the same level as them when it comes to sentience or sapience, so... everything they so is disgusting in their own minds. And those kids? Those poor kids will be absolutely looked down upon, even if the angels thought it was necessary.

Genocide! But that's just canon. I mean... fuck. Angels committing genocide is just canon.

That's all I'm gonna say for now. It's a good start. Remember, some of these are more dark au than actual headcanons I actively hold... some of them are actual headcanons though.

#❖ nonie #love letters ❤️#talkin' whb

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jtargaryen18 · 2 years

Text

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 25

Part 25: Just Breathe

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.3k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mob crime families, activities, domestic violence, and infidelity. Firearm use, explicit sex, missing persons, and deception. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunday was overcast with rain streaking the windows. Today felt calmer. And calm was all you could ask for after the last two days.

Once again, Steve was gone when you woke up. You knew he had a lot on his mind just now. There was so much to deal with.

After you showered and dressed, you headed downstairs for the kitchen. You were expecting to find Yelena’s breakfast ready for you to carry up to her.

As it was, you heard the conversation before you walked into the kitchen. When you entered the room, you found Dyson and Yelena having breakfast at the table where poker games were held. The bruising on Yelena’s face looked worse today. Dyson’s arm was still in a sling, and he looked tired. But there they both sat eating and talking.

The conversation didn’t halt when they saw you coming, and that made you happy.

“I’m glad you got a good report,” Dyson told Yelena as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Good morning,” Luca said as he motioned for you to sit with them, busy at the stove.

“What did doc have to say to you?” Yelena asked.

“Nothing good,” Dyson grumbled. “My elbow is sprained and that will take a while to heal. But he’s also on my ass about my blood pressure. Wants me to take meds for it and alter my diet. Start exercising.”

“He’s just looking out for you,” Yelena replied when Luca placed your breakfast in front of you. A fluffy omelet with fresh spinach, some fruit, and a tall glass of orange juice. “What he suggests is not so bad.”

Dyson scoffed. “I get all the exercise I need trying to keep up with you girls. And now that Nat’s here…”

You couldn’t keep the smile off your face at that thought. “We’re also probably the reason your blood pressure is high.”

“Nah.” Dyson shook his head. “There’s a lot going on. The transition. It will pass. All this food? Yeah, that might kill me.”

Luca held up a middle finger but didn’t turn away from his cut work. “Best cooking in the world and you know it. You, my friend, need to learn moderation. You eat too damn much.”

Dyson shook his head but didn’t argue.

“What did the doctor say about you?” you asked Yelena.

Your friend shrugged. “He wants me to come in and get a scan tomorrow. Make sure there are no fractures. I told him I’m fine.”

That had you and Dyson staring her down.

“You should do that,” you told her. “Just to be safe.”

“Yeah, you should,” Dyson said meaningfully. “It’s quick. The hospital is only half an hour away.”

“With everything going on at the moment,” she replied, “I’ll pass. I’m fine.”

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. Clint and Scott will be here,” you assured her. “I’ll stay with Nat while you’re gone and make it easy. Okay?”

“I’ll go with you,” Dyson told her. “See? Matter is resolved.”

“Neal will be here too,” Luca added.

Dyson didn’t miss the face you pulled at that mention.

“You sure handled Bruce for me, Yelena.” You changed the subject.

Dyson grinned. “Yeah, she did. You did good, kid.”

You made a mental note of asking Yelena what happened there later. Banner was banished, but alive. How could you be sure he wouldn’t come back to create trouble for Nat? How could she rest and recover knowing he was still out there?

“Where’s Steve?” you asked as Scott rushed in through the kitchen door.

“Upstairs with Nat and Clint,” Dyson told you. “He’s sticking around today. Meeting with a couple of potential lawyers this afternoon.”

“How’s that going?” you had to ask. Now that Bruce was out of the picture, he’d need a replacement. When you were part of a crime syndicate, you couldn’t hire just any lawyer.

“He’s got a couple of good prospects,” Dyson explained. “There’s some Barber fellow who’s local. He’s got ties to a couple of the families. There also some guy named Murdock. I don’t know much about him.”

“He’s a good guy,” Luca joined in, moving to the side so Scott could pull something from one of the cabinets. “Blind but a damn good lawyer. I knew his father.”

When Scott turned, he held a vase of beautiful wildflowers in his hands.

“What you got there?” Dyson asked him, finishing up his toast.

“These are for you.” Scott placed them in front of Yelena who froze at the gesture. “Hope you’re feeling better.”

Slowly, Yelena nodded, not taking her gaze off those flowers. “Thank you.”

It was awkward then. The kitchen went silent.

Scott sighed. “I’ll bring the groceries in.”

***

The sweet sound of Nat’s laughter reached you as you knocked at her door. When the door opened, you were greeted by the subtle notes of your husband’s cologne. Peering up at him you smiled.

“Hi, Sweetheart.” He kissed your lips before moving back to allow you in.

With a collection of pillows behind her, Nat was in the center of her bed. She still looked small, but she was smiling, and you would count that as a win. Clint was gathering up the breakfast trays, moving them off to the side as you took a seat on the side of her bed.

“How are you feeling?”

“One day at a time, right?” she told you, smiling. “How are Dyson and Yelena?”

“Great,” you said. It wasn’t strictly the truth but that’s what either of them would want you to say. “Just enjoying a quiet day.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Clint told you, coming back for Nat’s tray that was next to you and moving it off the end of her bed.

There was a folded newspaper under it. Idly, your gaze roamed over the section of the front page in front of you.

“Huh, I forgot all about my paper,” Clint mused.

There was color photo of a young woman there beneath the headline, ‘Missing Woman.’ You’d never seen her before. But something about that photograph gave you a real sense of foreboding. You grabbed it, picking it up so you could read the article in one of Boston’s top newspapers.

“Oh, my God,” Nat’s trouble tone penetrated your thoughts. “I know her.”

Her green-eyed gaze met yours then returned to the picture on the paper in your hands.

“What’s happening?” Steve wandered back over to the two of you, his attention on the same paper.

“I went to school with her sister,” Nat told him, pointing to the picture. “She works at the donut shop on Brightville.”

Gently, your husband took the paper from your hands. The expression on his face was grave. Clint now stood on the other side of the bed, laser-focused on Steve as he hurriedly read the accompanying article.

Something told you that the donut shop in question was on Steve’s turf. Did the woman’s disappearance have anything to do with the war brewing between the families? Was it just another challenge to Steve’s leadership?

Was Barnes responsible?

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us,” Steve told the two of you, returning the paper to you. He leaned down to brush a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll see you later,” he whispered in your ear.

Clint followed him out of the room.

“I’m sorry,” you told Nat. “I hope she turns up safe.”

Nat didn’t look so convinced. “Me too. She’s a sweet girl.”

Your eyes skimmed the article now. It didn’t take you long to realize something.

“She went missing the same night Hansen was here,” you said aloud. That sense of foreboding growing in your chest.

“That’s not the part that bothers me most,” Nat said quietly. “She looks just like you.”

You shivered, feeling cold.

Poor Nat had enough to deal with. You didn’t want to add to it. Dropping the paper into your lap, you returned your attention to her.

“I’m glad you and Steve are talking.”

“Me too,” she admitted. “He says I’m never going back to Bruce. It feels like… a wonderful dream. I’m just so afraid I’m going to wake up.”

“It’s real,” you said with feeling.

“Clint believes him. And there’s so much to deal with but Steve says there’s no hurry,” she explained.

“He’s right. You can stay here as long as you need to. This is your home.”

“He says he’ll help us. Once he has a new lawyer, he said I can start divorce proceedings. Once a year has passed, I can get a divorce on the grounds of spousal desertion.”

It was too bad Nat couldn’t just be a widow. There was some reason why the bastard’s life had been spared…

“You have a lot to do with this,” she told you. “I know marrying my brother wasn’t exactly what you wanted but I’m glad you did. He’s a better man for it.”

You didn’t know about that.

“One day,” she said slowly, “I hope you’ll be glad you married him. I hope you’ll be happy.”

Your heart squeezed at her words. You wanted to be happy. There were times since you’d become Steve’s wife that you were.

But it all came at the cost of your freedom and your mind still waged that war every day. It wasn’t just a case of an arranged marriage with the two of you working through the awkward beginning of a relationship like a rom-com. There was danger here, very real danger from a world of crime you’d been born into and couldn’t seem to escape.

“We’ll see,” you told her gently. “Don’t worry about that right now. You need to rest and get better.”

***

“What happened with Banner?” you asked the minute you thought everyone else was out of earshot.

Yelena worked at loading bullets into the clip in her hand.

“Your husband allowed him to live,” she said after a moment. “He didn’t want to.”

“What?”

“Banner has been your husband’s consiglieri for a few years now, yes?”

“That’s my understanding.”

“He knows a good deal about your husband’s business along with that of the other families,” she explained.

“He can’t talk if he’s dead,” you reasoned.

Cocking a brow at you, she smiled. “That’s true. But he had a will written…”

You shook your head. “So what? If something happens to him… Seriously? Who has it? Paulina and her sister? Because we could do something about that.”

Yelena chuckled. “It’s not that easy. It’s with a member of his family. His brother is a US senator with eyes on the White House.”

“Does the senator know what his brother does for a living?” you wanted to know.

“I’m certain he does. But if that in any way posed a threat to the brother as a politician…”

You understood. It could have severe consequences. Damn.

It wasn’t fair. Banner just got to skip to another city and start over?

“Is he taking Paulina and Katerina with him?”

Yelena shook her head, laughing.

“Are you sure you feel up to this?”

Yelena picked up the handgun from the table she’d carried out. You watched as she slapped the clip into place.

“This is the third time you’ve asked me this,” Yelena pointed out, smiling. “I even agreed to go for the scan tomorrow because you wanted me to. I’ll be fine.”

Yelena handed the bigger handgun to you handle first. You carefully took it from her, just like she taught you. Careful to keep your finger off the trigger. It was strange how comfortable you’d become in handling guns over the last few weeks.

“Now, this is a bit stronger than you’re used to,” Yelena explained. “This is a 9mm. It’s heavier than your .22 and it has a stronger kick.”

It was heavy in your hand, the metal cold.

“Do you think I’m ready for something stronger?” you asked.

Yelena grinned. “You shot Hansen with Dyson’s .38, I would think so.”

“That was the first time I shot anything.” You held it up, aiming at the target. “How far away is it?”

“Twenty-five feet,” Yelena explained.

“It felt so strange,” you told her, remembering when you pointed the gun at Lloyd Hansen. “It felt even stranger when I pulled the trigger, you know?”

“That’s good,” Steve said. Neither of you had noticed him walking out into the area behind the house where Yelena had set up a makeshift practice site. “You should always remember when there’s a gun in your hand, you are wielding something that can take a life.”

Still holding the gun carefully, you turned to face your husband. “I thought you were going to be meeting with lawyers all evening.”

Steve smiled. “Not all evening.”

You let him take the gun away from you, assuming it was the end of your lesson. And it was a shame because Yelena went to great lengths to set this up, including extra men watching the area around you. It was your first time at target practice.

Steve checked the clip, the chamber before handing it back to you.

To Yelena, he said, “Move that up to about fifteen feet.”

Yelena nodded but as she took the first step, Scott came rushing past all three of you, reaching the target first. When Yelena paused, he grinned at her.

“If you want to show me where to move it,” he told her, “I’d be glad to.”

Yelena rolled her eyes but estimated where it should be moved, ten feet closer. Scott was eager to move it for her, getting it done quickly. He then came back to your group.

Steve moved behind you. “Show me your stance,” he said quietly.

You did as Yelena taught you, putting in the earplugs hanging around your neck. You distributed your weight to keep your balance, held the gun in both hands without tea-cupping it. Your arms weren’t straight, and you leaned forward in preparation.

“Good.” Steve was close behind you. “Now, take a shot.”

“Did you move the target for a reason?” you asked without moving.

“I did,” he said. “It’s how my father taught me.”

It wasn’t the answer you expected. It was so much better.

You pulled the trigger, the recoil stronger than your .22 but not as much as Dyson’s gun. You hit the outermost ring on the paper target Yelena taped up on the stand she’d put together. Your second shot hit a couple inches closer to the middle. The third missed the target entirely.

“Hold up,” Steve told you, placing a careful hand on your shoulder. “Pay attention to your breathing.”

“My breathing?”

Steve’s body moved close behind yours, his chest pressed to your back. He took the gun from your hands, aiming it with just his right. His lips were at your ear.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, making you shiver.

You did as he asked, breathing in with him.

“Now, exhale,” he instructed.

You exhaled with him. In the same beat, Steve pulled the trigger. The shot hit just outside the innermost ring.

“Take a deep breath,” he said again. You did. “And exhale.”

Again, just after you started the exhale, he took a shot. The second one was dead center.

Steve handled the gun so comfortably, with such ease. Would you ever be able to do that?

Handing it back to you, Steve stayed close behind you.

“Your turn,” he whispered. “Take a deep breath.” You did. “And exhale.”

As you exhaled, you squeezed the trigger. The shot hit just outside the innermost ring, pushing your excitement higher.

“Again,” Steve ordered.

Keeping your eyes on the target, you took a deep breath. You pulled the trigger on the exhale. This time your shot hit inside the innermost circle.

“Give me one more,” he whispered.

You’d heard that before. But when he said it to you in private, he meant something different entirely.

You took a deep breath. On the exhale you took another shot. It wasn’t dead center, but it was close.

“You’re getting it,” Steve sounded encouraging.

A quick glance at Yelena showed her smiling as she watched, standing next to Scott. She looked proud.

“Finish the clip,” Steve instructed. “Then you’re going to reload.”

***

At the end of dinner, Steve had a phone call to take, and he dashed off to his study.

You headed up to your bedroom, your arms, and shoulders sore from your target practice. You were still trying to get your mind around the fact that your husband didn’t put an end to your learning to fire a gun. No, he actually helped you. Was it because you shot Hansen? Or was he just humoring you?

You’d danced earlier too. Stretching your back, you decided a soak in the whirlpool tub was required.

Filling up the tub, you headed back into the bedroom, sitting on the end of the bed to pull off your shoes. Standing, you peeled off your jeans and left them there in the floor. You peeled off your sweater, wincing at the pull in your muscles from the movements.

Reaching behind you, you unhooked your bra just as you reached the tub. Dropping it to the floor, you turned to the small closet in the bathroom. Some Epsom salts would be just the thing for your bath. You added some to the water, started the jets, and sighed happily.

You’d just hooked your thumbs in your panties on each side when his deep voice cut the quiet of the bathroom.

“Slowly.”

You shivered, feeling some of that ache and fatigue fading as you smiled at him over your shoulder. You took them off slowly, alright. You teased him with the movements, bending over as you did until the garment pooled around your ankles.

You danced out of them, putting on a show for him as you climbed into the tub.

When Steve peeled off his deep red sweater, just as you did moments ago, you were pretty sure you didn’t look that good doing it. Toeing off his shoes, he approached the tub. You got an eyeful of all those muscles, the intricate web of tattoos stretched over them.

His gaze roamed over you too. The bubbling water did little to hide any of you and your breasts were just above the water.

When his hands went for the front of his jeans, you held up a hand. “What do you think you’re doing?” you asked playfully. “This is my bath.”

There was mischief in those blue eyes and his smile was wicked. He paused, but then he pulled open those jeans, pushing them down along with the black boxers beneath. His cock bobbed with his movements, red and ready.

“Are you ever going to take no for an answer?” you shot at him as he climbed into the tub with you, sitting next to you in the water.

Steve didn’t miss your meaning.

“Maybe I earned that,” he told you. “Maybe if I did a better job of teaching you, seducing you, your answer would be yes.”

“I was surprised that you came out to help me with target practice,” you admitted.

“I could have shut it down,” he said. “But that wouldn’t have stopped you, I know… So who can’t take no for an answer?”

You were about to argue that point when he grabbed you by your hips. Steve lifted you, placing you on his lap in the water. Bracing his feet, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back to rest against him, your back to his chest.

It felt wonderful.

Okay, you’d play along.

Steve’s lips chained kisses over your neck and shoulders, the soft whisper of his beard only made it more enticing. His hands slid all over you, teasing your breasts until your nipples tightened, sliding down your belly to explore between your thighs.

“You already taught me today,” you managed, loving the attention he was lavishing on you.

His lips came up to your ear. “How about something else?” he whispered.

“Something new?” you whispered.

“Not entirely,” he said, nudging his heated length up against your ass. “You seemed to like riding me.”

Oh, you had.

“Want to try it another way?”

Steve sat with you in one corner of the enormous tub. Taking each of your hands, he guided you to grab the edge of the tub on either side. He shifted under you, positioning himself. When his hands returned to your hips, he carefully guided you down, filling you with his cock.

It took your breath away and you grip tightened on the edges of the tub as you slid all the way down and he stretched you. His groan behind you was an indecent sound. Holding you there, he gave you time to adjust there in the warm, bubbling water.

When you started moving on him, his hands stayed on you. You did love being able to move at your own pace, to shift until you worked him against all the spaces inside you that drove you wild. You moved slowly at first, up and down, his hands keeping you steady but not taking over yet.

“Breathe.” His voice was low. He nipped at your shoulder with his teeth.

He felt so good, your walls clenching around him as you rode him. The delicate ache at your clit had you shifting so you could move one of your hands to do something about that. But no sooner had you lifted that hand, Steve slapped your ass hard.

“Didn’t say you could let go,” he said roughly.

“But Steve…” You put your hand back.

“What do you need?” He slapped your ass again when you paused. “Keep moving.”

You did, feeling pressure building within you. You were getting closer, but you needed more…

“What does my princess need?” Steve purred as you kept sliding up and down on him, harder now. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

“Need to come,” you pleaded, working yourself on him faster. Holding on with your hands gripping the tub behind you.

“What else?” Steve sounded a little winded himself now. “Tell me…”

You sped up, trying to reach release without that added stimulation. But his hands on your hips slowed you down and he was stronger than you.

The whining sound you made sounded pitiful to your own ears. “I’m close… please…”

“What do you need?” he demanded.

“To come.”

“I’ll stop,” he warned you.

Tears stung the backs of your eyes. Your pussy was clamped around him. Your legs were shaking, and you were pushing off from your toes. Every inch of you was tight, on edge.

“Touch me.” You were desperate. “Please.”

One of his hands slid around to cup you as he allowed you to move freely again, his fingers zeroing in on that delicate target. Oh God, he knew what he was doing too. Using just the right amount of pressure, he worked that button as you moved frantically, fighting to get off.

When you finally went over that edge, you cried out. Truly porno-worthy sounds. Release shook you, tore you apart. But when those spasms faded, you were slumped back against your husband, his arms around you and his breath as ragged as yours.

His cock was still iron-hard inside you, jerking as if to bring that to your attention.

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling himself free of you and urging you to turn and face him. When your knees were situated on either side of him, he impaled you again. This time, his arms were around you, holding you.

Your inner walls were still quivering around him, and you still fought to breathe but it felt… heavenly. You moved together, the water bubbling and sloshing with your motions. Steve stole kisses from your lips, teasing your nipples with his tongue.

“You look so gorgeous when you come for me,” he panted against your skin. “So beautiful.”

Your fingers gripped in his hair, and you rode him as much as he was pressing up into you. It was an erotic dance but one you couldn’t hold long. You were already back on the edge, your body tightening and bracing for the storm.

Your husband was close too. You knew when his hands again grabbed your hips, urging you to move faster on him, using his strength to help you. Watching those heavily muscled arms work while his lips teased your breasts pushed you over, had you wailing as the next wave overtook you.

Steve’s guttural cries blended with yours as you shook together, holding each other in the water. When the earth stopped moving, you held onto him, your head on his shoulder. Your hearts beat together.

Steve’s fingers traced trails over you skin, making you shiver.

“You’re a good shot,” he said finally. “You take it seriously.”

Lifting your head finally, you glanced into his eyes. “Does this mean I can continue learning to use a gun?”

His gaze on you was speculative but finally he nodded. “I don’t like that you couldn’t tell me. I found out about it when you shot Hansen… I don’t want our relationship to be like that. I want you to feel safe in telling me anything.”

You swallowed hard.

Should you tell him about your “manicure appointment?” The fact that Neal told Steve the woman looked familiar put the fear of God in you. Would he understand why you agreed to have Yelena bring a nurse here to give you a contraceptive shot?

Or would he be furious? Would he fire Yelena?

Taking a deep breath, you decided against saying anything. Instead, you nodded, kissing him softly. When that kiss ended, Steve looked content. Happy.

It was a decision you’d end up regretting.

@valsworldofcreativity

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#His Inheritance #Mafia au #Steve Rogers #Mafia daughter reader #Yelena Belova #Natasha #Clint Barton #Scott Lang

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tinybirbwrites · 1 year

Text

Losing Control (batfam/reader)

this was part of that one idea i talked about a while ago. it’s unfinished, but i thought i’d share it anyway. small warning for language and mild violence, also attempted sexual assault but it’s not very detailed and doesn’t get very far.

tried keeping reader genderneutral, not sure if i missed anything.

hope you enjoy reading!

____________

The first time it happened, I got angry during training.

Sparring with anyone from the batfamily would rarely lead to a victorious outcome—they were too experienced, too talented, too ambitious. I didn't expect to win, but a tie would be nice. And yet, I always ended up on the ground, or trapped in someone's hold. I rarely landed a hit myself, and barely managed to dodge.

It was frustrating, and more often than not, I found myself getting angry at the guys for never giving me a chance, but mostly at myself for being so weak.

But never had I blacked out like this before.

One moment I was on the ground, pressed down by Jason's weight, the next I was standing upright and staring down at him, his chest beneath my foot. He was frantically tapping my leg, and I realized that I was pressing down on his ribs hard enough to break them.

I immediately stumbled backwards and sat down, trying to recall what had happened, while Jason groaned and sat up. He didn't seem hurt, thankfully, just out of breath and surprised.

“Well,” he said, “that one was new.”

We didn't get to talk about what happened afterwards.

It was getting late and I was on my way home when it happened again. I remember being followed and touched by three tall guys, terrified to the point of being unable to move, to defend myself.

Next thing I knew, all three men were on the ground, knocked out with broken noses, covered in strange bite marks and scratches. I called the police and went home, scared and confused.

The third time it happened, Damian was yelling at me because I had made a mistake. It was on patrol, and I usually stayed back so I wouldn't get in the way, but Dick had told me I should get involved more, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to learn anything new. But of course I had made a mistake, and Damian thought it necessary to burn it into my brain.

I loved Damian, but I hated being yelled at. The anger came easily, and next time I opened my eyes, I was being held against the wall by Bruce himself.

“Calm down,” he said. He was using the Batman Voice, sending chills down my spine and making me go limp immediately, scared of having made him angry, and scared of what I had done this time. Was Damian okay?

Luckily, Damian was unharmed, but he looked a bit pale and kept staring at me with wide eyes.

I told Bruce about my blackouts that night, so he took me back to the cave to run some tests.

“The causes are high surges of adrenaline,” Bruce stated calmly, “In other words; anger, or strong fear.”

“So I'm the Hulk now?” I scoffed, but it just turned into an exhausted sigh. Bruce had taken some of my blood and insisted on doing the tests now instead of waiting until tomorrow. I was about ready to pass out.

“I want to see the effects up close in a safe environment. Only that way will I be able to tell what's happening to your body.” Bruce was already walking towards a platform with a big cell made out of see-through, bulletproof glass.

“Can this wait until tomorrow? Please?” He stopped and looked back at me with a frown. “I know this is important, but I really need some sleep, and I don't even know if I can make it happen on command.”

He considered me for a long moment, making me squirm under his piercing gaze, before he finally nodded. “Go.”

“Damian?” I whispered, lightly knocking on his door. He had been sent away to bed early, leaving before I could apologize for what had happened. “Are you awake?”

The door unlocked, so I slowly opened it. Damian was already back on his bed, lying down with his back leaning against the headrest, arms crossed. He avoided my gaze, stubbornly staring at his feet instead.

I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, unsure where I stood with him right now. Was he angry? Upset? Scared?

“Damian,” I started cautiously, “I'm sorry. I don't know exactly what happened, but I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”

“Wasn't scared,” he mumbled.

I couldn't help but smile. “Okay. But it's alright to be scared, you know that, right?”

He just gave a grunt.

“You also know I love you, yes? And that I'd never want to hurt you?”

He pulled his legs closer to his chest, turning his head away more. I could see his embarrassed pout before he could hide it.

“Damian?” I pushed gently. He let out a breath through his nose and mumbled something incoherent.

I slowly sat down on his bed near his feet. “What did you say? I didn't catch that.”

“I said,” he sighed, talking louder and more clearly, but still not looking at me, “that it's me who keeps hurting you. I knew that, but I didn't really see how much I hurt you until earlier today.”

He looked at me then, eyes full of shame, “I do not understand how you can still care about me.”

I was taken aback by his genuine words, as I was so used to his harsh shell. He rarely showed any softness or openness to anyone, aside maybe from Richard. I lifted a hand to gently cup his cheek, and he leaned into my touch like a cat.

“You're complicated to get along with, I'll give you that,” I said, “But I can see your heart, Damian. And I want to keep it safe. I know you don't always mean what you say, and no matter how much some things hurt, I will always care about you.”

He frowned, giving a thoughtful hum. “So you're just going to take the beating?”

I sighed. “Well, I don't want to, but what am I supposed to do? Yell at you? Besides, you don't always want me getting all emotional like right now. If I don't want to lose you, I'll just have to roll with the punches and deal with it and not take it personally.”

Damian gave a huff, then started shuffling around and pulling at my arm until I was lying down with him, letting him curl up in my arms and press his face against my collarbone.

“I will… try… to be less… harsh,” he muttered into my shirt. “I... don't want to lose you, either.”

“High adrenaline surge caused by anger is the initial trigger. It seems a part of their brain falls asleep, but the rest stays active, controlled by an unknown force that has yet to be understood. Physical changes are getting more apparent the longer they stay in that state. Increased length and sharpness of teeth, especially the canines. Aggressive behavior, borderline animalistic. No usage of vocabulary, only hissing, growling and snarling. The skin on both hands and arms starts turning dark black after one minute, and after three, the same happens to the eye whites, gums and tongue. It’s like tar slowly seeping out from every pore, covering what’s underneath.”

Bruce's notes were highly concerning, to say the least. He had kept a close eye on me the whole week, until, inevitably, I got angry during training yet again. He put me inside the cell and observed for twenty minutes, before getting me to calm down.

‘Getting me to calm down’ meant he sent Dick to make cooing noises at me until he got close enough to give me a hug. Miraculously, it worked wonders.

“You guys want me to listen to ASMR the whole day? So I won't get angry anymore? You do know that's not how it works, right?”

Bruce had invented a device that could comfortably be worn on my person, monitoring my vitals and sending a distress signal to the closest member of the batfamily in case my adrenaline got to critical levels again. Meanwhile, the boys had apparently unanimously agreed on a strategy on how to keep me calm, meaning they had put together a playlist with ASMR and calming ambience videos for me to listen to whenever I could feel my blood pressure starting to rise.

It was really sweet, but whether it was actually going to work was a whole nother question entirely.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Jason shrugged, then grimaced at his own words. “Fuck’s sake, I sound like Alfred.”

Dick and I were on an undercover mission. It was a small one, just for one night, in which we'd have to do our best to get some information out of Subject A, a thirty year old rich woman in a red dress and big red hat, and Subject B, the owner of a big company and the husband of Subject A.

Both were insufferable, absolutely the worst. Dick was a natural at being charming and disarming, so he had no problems with talking to either subject, though I could tell by the way he would clench his jaw whenever he smiled that he was just as annoyed as I was.

Me, on the other hand, could not stand another minute in the same room as either of those two. So I told Dick I would be getting some fresh air.

And because I had the best luck in the world, some lonely rich guy followed me outside and kept talking to me, and kept creeping closer to me until he was fully in my personal bubble, completely unprompted.

“Oh, you look cold,” he said, and because apparently he thought he had the right to touch me, wrapped an arm around my waist to press me closer to his side, “Maybe we should go back inside? Or maybe I could bring you home, hmm? You seem lonely, like me.”

Everything about this guy was creeping me out. He smelled so heavily of cologne that I wanted to gag, and he kept breathing into my face.

“I would very much like to be alone, to be honest,” I pressed out between clenched teeth, already feeling the familiar pounding in my head. “I did not give you any permission to touch me like this, so please, kindly back off, sir—now.”

He was murmuring something about reading my body language and subtext and getting clear signals of sexual interest, but I could hardly even hear him anymore over the pounding in my ears, my vision already fading more and more into black, as my adrenaline started to rise.

Then, suddenly, the man was being pulled away. Then I was being maneuvered to a more secluded part of the outside area, somewhere out of sight, and Dick was standing in front of me. He was holding me by the shoulders, gently squeezing and closely watching my eyes.

He was saying something, but I couldn't hear him. I could feel my teeth sharpen, a growl rising from my throat, hands clenching and nails slowly growing into claws.

I wanted to find that disgusting piece of shit and rip his eyes out. I wanted to cut off his prick and feed it to him until he would choke to death—

Then Dick was holding my face with both hands, leaning closer until our noses were almost touching. I could hear him now, gently shushing me like a parent would to calm their crying baby. His familiar scent surrounded me, filling my senses, calming me. I relaxed a little. My anger was not directed at Dick. I knew I was safe with him.

Then he let go of me to search his pockets, quickly pulling out his phone and putting his earbuds in my ears. A few seconds later, the sounds of rain droned out the rising violence in my mind, making the back of my head tingle and the hot anger boiling in my chest die down until my physical transformation went away as well.

I sagged against Dick's chest, feeling tired all of a sudden. I waited a little longer, relinquishing the feel of relief and calm washing over me, while Dick wrapped his arms around me to stroke one hand over my back, the other holding me closer to his chest by my neck.

Eventually, I pulled the earbuds out and gave them back to him. I sighed, “I hate that I'm a ticking time bomb. You can't always be there to make sure I don't go off.”

“I don’t mind,” Dick said, helping me stand up. “That’s what family’s for, right? We got your back. With B’s device, there will always be someone there to help you out. If not, you can always call, no matter what time it is or where you are. If all else fails, you know what to do to help yourself.”

I let myself lean against him for a few moments longer, enjoying the comfort he brought, before straightening myself up with a sigh. “Thanks, Dick. I guess… let’s finish up here, huh?”

He grinned. “That’s the spirit!”

#batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #reader insert #x reader #dick grayson x reader #damian wayne x reader #jason todd x reader #its all kept platonic/familial #especially the relationship between damian and reader #i love when reader acts as a parental figure towards damian #its very sweet #monster reader #genderneutral reader

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fukurofanfics · 10 months

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Fukuro Part 7: Offense, Surprises, and Rooftops

A/N: Both parts of this chapter are largely based around an idea given to me by a friend, which I won’t give away. Keep reading to find out, and enjoy!

(Also, I’m writing according to what I think the characters would be like in person, not what they actually are, so they might not always be in character. Some character traits and abilities are made up by me, like Jiwon’s affinity with computers.)

-ちはる

Warning: This series contains graphic depictions of violence and gore, graphic sexual content, and adult language throughout, and is not recommended for persons under sixteen years old. Reader discretion advised.

Chapter 7: Offense, Surprises, and Rooftops

I was tired when I woke up the next morning. My pelvic floor and glutes were aching from the use last night, and I just wanted to fall back asleep. I went down to the kitchen and found both Jiwon and Eun-ji engaged in a heated discussion.

“What’s up with you two?” I asked, leaning against the table. I had a feeling I knew what the answer was.

“What’s up is,” hissed Eun-ji, “I’ve found out what you did as well. Did you really think it would go unnoticed?”

“No,” I said honestly. “I didn’t. Someone was bound to find out.”

“Well, soon enough everyone will know!” She said. “You bring us here and think you can just pound whoever you like? What do you think the others will say?”

“You sound like her,” I said, nodding at Jiwon, “when she found out I fucked Yiren.”

Eun-ji was silent for a moment, not quite comprehending what I had said. Slowly her face reddened.

“You fucked Yiren?” She shouted incredulously.

“Yes.” I said calmly. “Didn’t you know?”

“No! It was enough with Jiwon unnie, but Yiren too?”

“Eun-ji, enough!” Jiwon bellowed. “I did it of my own accord, as did Yiren! She wanted it, I wanted it! He didn’t ask us, we asked him! We approached him, and he’s a guy, do you expect a guy to refuse sex with two hot girls?”

Eun-ji fell silent, still glaring daggers at me.

“Jiwon.” I said, trying to calm her down. “Eun-ji, I understand why you’re angry. But Jiwon’s right, I didn’t ask them.”

“What, and that makes it okay?” Eun-ji snapped, but she was looking less sure of her argument now.

“Yes!” Jiwon interrupted.

“Actually,” I said, cutting a glance at her, “that depends on who you ask. As for me, Yiren, and Jiwon, it does. Clearly not so much for you.”

“Well, you got that one right,” Eun-ji muttered.

“Well, the others better not find out,” Jiwon said, an unusual hint of a threat in her voice. “Just remember, Eun-ji, I have dirt on you too…”

Eun-ji narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

“And also,” I said hastily, before any more blackmail was exchanged, “think of what that would to do Yiren. She’s young, she’s innocent, and she has a reputation. I don’t want to see her shamed.”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you fucked her!”

“Eun-ji, I’m not asking.” I said, starting to lose my cool. “This stays between us. End of story. For Yiren’s sake if not your other bandmate’s, keep your mouth shut.”

“Well-“ she began again, but I was finished.

“Look!” I said, quickly getting fed up. “Your choices are these: Keep your lips sealed, be a good person, and have us all stay, or tell all the others, be a terrible person, and have your bandmates get angry and leave! Which would you rather?”

She looked slightly stunned at the sudden outburst and kept silent.

“What d’you think would happen if you told the others? You think they’d laugh it off? Take it lightly? No. They’d want to leave! You know what happens if you guys leave? You die! Die, like everyone else who isn’t shut up in a bunker! I won’t let that happen!

“I spent eight years and about half a billion dollars building this, planning, and executing my plans. I’ve come this far, I’ve achieved what I used to think was impossible, I’ve got you all here. I’ve saved your lives. I’m not having you undo that because you’re angry I fucked Yiren!”

Eun-ji was looking rapidly less angry and more guilty.

“So that’s why we’re here?” She asked, some trace of defiance still in her now. Her next sentence brought me to the end of my emotional rope. “You brought us here to fuck us? That’s the reason we’re here, isn’t it?”

I stared at her, not quite able to take in what she had just fired at me.

“What? You think - you think I - you think I brought you here only to -“

“Yes!” She said, aggravation rising once more. “You only brought us here to fuck us, didn’t you? You thought you could just convince all of us, didn’t you? Didn’t you?! You don’t even care about us, do you?”

I looked up, blood draining out of my face. My eyes flicked to Jiwon, who was white in the face and awaiting my reaction.

“Take that back.”

She said nothing, instantly regretting her words.

“Eun-ji,” I growled, struggling to control my anger, which was about to bubble over. “Take it back, I swear to god!”

“I take it back, I’m sorry!” She cried, taking a step back from me. “I didn’t mean it!”

“How could you even say that?!” I shouted. “How can you even stand there, in the shelter I spent millions of dollars and eight years making for you, and tell me I don’t care?! God, Eun-ji…”

I leaned over the counter, putting my face in my hands.

“You have no idea,” I said quietly, anger giving way to dejection, “how much it hurts me to hear you say that. This is my life’s work, money well spent. I do care, more than you could ever imagine.”

“She didn’t mean it, Kaito.” Jiwon said, shooting a furious look at Eun-ji, whose eyes were filling with tears.

“No, I didn’t.” Eun-ji said, drying her eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I get it.” I said, taking my face out of my hands. “You don’t agree with what I did, it was in the heat of the moment, you said something you didn’t mean and now regret. We’ve all done it. But this time it was personal.”

“But it wasn’t meant to be.” Jiwon intercepted. “Had she meant to hurt you, she could would have said something more offensive.”

“Yeah?” I said, turning to her. “There’s not much you can do that’ll offend or hurt me more than questioning or denying my love for you guys.”

Eun-ji mumbled something about needing to talk to Sihyeon and quickly departed.

Jiwon sighed. “Don’t you see? She’s mad because it’s the principle of the thing. It’s immoral, and it’s not something we were ever taught was okay. This is precisely why I didn’t want the others to find out. I knew they’d react like this, but it’s not your fault.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be worried about what it made me or you look like. I would be worried for Yiren. Like I said, she’s young, innocent, and fragile. The criticism and shame that would bring on her is not something I want to witness.”

Jiwon nodded in agreement. “Me neither. She’s always been the innocent one, seeing her reputation ruined would be too sad.” She paused, seeing my expression. “You aren’t planning on leaving it at me and Yiren, are you?”

I looked at her in surprise. “Is my expression really that easy to read?”

She chuckled. “Yes, I can always tell what you’re thinking. I’ll take that as a confirmation?”

I looked back away. “No, I’m not leaving it at the two of you. And I’ve just found my next target for domination.”

She laughed hollowly. “Good luck with her. She’ll be a tough nut to crack, for sure. Are you just going to go after all of us?”

I didn’t answer for a moment. “Maybe, I guess? Definitely Eun-ji and Yurim. Possible Se-rim. I might try for Sihyeon just for the satisfaction.”

“So that’s your plan. If you think Eun-ji will be hard, you have no idea about Sihyeon. She’ll be the hardest, easily.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“I say that because you’ll have a hard time breaking her. She’s strong willed and she’ll probably go bananas when you go after her. There’ll be shouting, and a lot of angry words that she probably doesn’t mean, you know her. You saw how Eun-ji reacted when she found out you fucked me, what she said? Triple the intensity of that and you get what Sihyeon will be like.”

“So very difficult.” I said. “I’m not worried; I can always manage to pull someone who resists me. But now that I’ll be expecting the words she doesn’t mean, I’ll be prepared. Eun-ji caught me off guard, that’s why it hit me so hard.”

“I guess. Well, with us so far, you haven’t had much trouble, have you?” She snaked a hand along my shoulder.

“I guess not. But I’m talking about past experiences, not you guys.”

“Had a lot of those, have you?” Her voice was getting lower and huskier, a sure sign of desire.

“I’d say so.” I casually slid my hand down her back.

“Well, I don’t think you’d have trouble, if you catch my drift.”

I smiled. “I do.”

I gave her ass a squeeze and she sighed into my ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you later.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I think I’m going to be the one doing the fucking.”

“Oh really?” She questioned, her other hand tracing my abs, running the fingers over the grooves. “Are you going to pound me until I scream? Are you going to fuck my little pussy and shoot your cum in me?”

My smiled widened, and I felt a rush of blood to my cock at her words.

“Why yes, I believe I am. At least, if you have no objection?”

She giggled.

“I have none, thank you. I will gladly accept your kind offer.”

I laughed at that.

“My offer? You’re the one who all but demanded it. Ah, whatever.”

She turned around so as to face me, standing very close.

“Either way,” she whispered sensually, “you’re going to stick your cock in me and fuck me senseless tonight.”

She brought her head up and kissed me softly.

The elevator doors opened with a ding and a gasp was audible from inside. I heard it and wished I hadn’t kissed her back, recognizing the high-pitched sound as Yiren’s voice.

“Kaito?”

I groaned inwardly. All I needed after the fight with Eun-ji was to have Yiren mad at me.

“Why - what - what’s going on?”

I kept my eyes shut in a vain attempt to shut out the questions.

“Why are you kissing her? Are you two together? Did I do something?”

“It’s alright, Yiren.” Jiwon said, disengaging herself from me. “We aren’t together, no.”

“Why are you kissing? I don’t get it.”

“Yiren,” I said, opening my eyes and taking a few steps forward. “I have to be honest, I can’t lie to you. I fucked her last night, and I didn’t resist her at all. I didn’t even try.”

Her expression remained unchanged.

“Well, I figured that would happen, but does that mean we aren’t doing anything anymore?”

“No, of course not. She and I aren’t going to interfere with you and me.”

Yiren’s face relaxed. “Oh, I was worried you had replaced me. But if-“

“Yiren,” I said, taking her face in my hands, “I could never replace you. I love you too much for that.”

Her breathing quickened slightly.

“Really?”

“With all of my heart. In fact, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

I saw Jiwon give me a thumbs-up from behind Yiren, grinning enthusiastically. My mind was racing a thousand miles an hour, this was the moment I had dreamed of for years. Wang Yiren…would she say yes or no?

“You mean everything to me, you’re more precious to me than anything. You’re irreplaceable, no one could ever live up to you. I love you, and I know you love me too. So I wanted to ask…will you be my girlfriend?”

Her exhaled breath washed over my face as she gazed into my eyes.

“Yes,” she said at length, and it was as though a box of fireworks had exploded inside my brain. “Yes, I will. I do love you, and I want to be with you.”

She said yes, she said yes! My mind was yelling this at me over and over, but I remained calm.

I lowered my face to hers and kissed her passionately, and her body relaxed into my hands like putty to its mold.

“We should go somewhere else,” she murmured into my ear.

“Well, I’ll not get in your way,” said Jiwon, and she stepped out of the way and invited us forward. “Have fun.”

I steered Yiren out of the small kitchen and into the elevator, where I selected the roof. The doors opened and we were hit with a gust of cool morning air.

“So,” said Yiren, after we had settled on the couch, her body comfortably snuggled up to me, “I was thinking; if we’re dating now, we should get to know each other better.”

“I agree. Well, I already know a lot about you, but you don’t know a lot about me.”

“What do you know about me?”

I shrugged. “Facts, personality traits, general trivia. That kind of thing.”

“Okay…well, I don’t know you well. What’s you’re…favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Favorite food?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Favorite type of food?”

“Indian.”

“Okay. Where were you born?”

“Fukushima.”

“What district?”

“Ishikawa.”

“Do you know where I was born?”

“Hangzhou, in Zhejiang province.”

She laughed. “What else do you know about me?”

“You were born on December 29th, 2000. Your zodiac sign is Capricorn and your Chinese Zodiac sign is Dragon. You’re 5’4” and you weigh more or less 93 lbs. You were in Produce 48 in 2018 and were ranked #28. I would have put you at #1, but that’s just me. Furthermore, you were ranked as the #1 visual center in it. You won a Chinese dance competition in 2016, and Chinese dance is one of your specialties.

“When you were fifteen you were a cover model for Middle School Life, and later on you modeled for HIM. You like to draw, watch mukbangs, cook, shop, and dance. You studied dance for ten years. You love unicorns as well. You were a trainee for two years and two months. Your favorite kind of food is pasta, although you also love jokbal, which is something I didn’t connect until we were eating it the other day. You hate fish as well. You debuted as a solo artist when you were on hiatus in China with ‘Call Call.’ I really like that song, by the way.”

I said all of this in rapid succession, reading the page from kprofiles.com in my head.

She looked a bit surprised and was silent at first but then laughed.

“Wow, I didn’t know you knew so much trivia about me. But can we not talk about my hiatus?”

I looked at her. “Of course, if you don’t want to.” I turned my head back towards the forest. “It was really unfair, what happened to you.”

She sighed. “I know. All of that just because I didn’t bow.”

“All of that, just because you were sticking to your own culture!” I said, louder. “The Korean netizens should have never said those things to you! Like that one person said, ‘Wang went to South Korea for work, not to become a South Korean.’ It was unfair and unjust, their reaction.”

“I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it.”

“Of course I do! Even if you weren’t who you are, I still would. It’s not right or fair to attack someone online because they didn’t waver from their own culture. I understood where the Korean netizens were coming from, but that doesn’t justify their reaction. Telling you to go back to China where you came from…I’ll be damned if any of them were right to say that. The way I see it, you were between a rock and a hard place. It was either upset the Korean fans or upset the Chinese fans, and in all honesty, probably your family as well, if they saw it.”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah. My family wouldn’t be pleased.”

“Don’t worry. You were right to do what you did. At least, that’s the way I see it.”

She looked appreciative.

“Thanks, Kaito. By the way…I was thinking we should think of pet names. I’ll call you Kai.”

I considered.

“How about sugar poo? Or sweetie pie?”

She chuckled. “I’m serious, what will you call me?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to give it more thought. Maybe Ichika?”

“What’s that mean?”

“A thousand flowers in Japanese. I didn’t choose it for what it means, though.”

She giggled suddenly. “It sounds like ‘itchy’ to me.”

I snorted. “It means a thousand flowers, okay?”

“Well, we can talk more later. We came up here for a different reason, didn’t we?”

I smiled. “Alright, chickadee, let’s roll.”

We undressed quickly and she climbed on top of me. It was starting to feel like a natural position for her. I felt myself slide into her already wet pussy with ease and she cried out.

“Oh, fuck!”

…

A while later, after we’d finished, she sat lying on top of me.

“Kaito,” she said, pushing herself up and looking at me. “do me a favor, will you?”

“What can I do for you?”

“Never call me chickadee again.”

I laughed. “Okay. I was just kidding. I think I like Ichika, what about you?”

She shrugged. “I like it. Any other ideas?”

“I’m not doing Rennie, too overused. Yi is just too weird, and Ren is a Japanese guys’ name. My grandfather called my mom Lamb Chop, but that’s too reminiscent of meat. Or meat cleavers, maybe. Angel, also too overused. Unless you like it?”

“I like angel. And Lamb Chop. And Ichika. How about you rotate between those?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We got dressed again and went downstairs, where we found everyone but Sihyeon and Hwang-ja up. I wondered where they were, it had been a while.

Yiren was practically hopping around as though she had springs on her feet; she was clearly excited about being my girlfriend, and it really hit me in the moment I saw her again how much she really liked me. She had been waiting for me to ask her, clearly. I had seen it in her eyes. For the most part, she was able to hide what she was thinking well. But her eyes always told the truth. I had seen it earlier when I said I loved her.

And of course, I hadn’t been lying. I had loved her from the moment I had laid eyes upon her. I knew she was the one, whether I would ever meet her or not. She was the one for me, no one else could be the same.

December was rapidly approaching; I was already planning Yiren’s gift. Her birthday was one of the last estimated days we would have in here before complete lockdown, and I was going to make it lavish.

You would ask why we were even here, when the asteroid wasn’t going to arrive until January? Well, I haven’t mentioned it up to this point, but Fukuro attacks on me were common. They feared the toxin, but they were clever enough to connect that if they took me out, their troubles were over. So I was in danger wherever I went, and I was not about to expose Everglow or Hwang-ja to that danger.

Risking an outing was a dangerous and probably unadvisable decision, but if anyone thought I was going to go bare minimum for Yiren’s birthday, they were wrong. But that was all in the future, we had a couple of months left until December. My own birthday was approaching, October the fifth. I didn’t need much; my chefs would cook up something lavish, I would probably get a birthday blowjob from Jiwon, and something from Yiren and the others. Obviously me and Yiren would fuck, but I wasn’t sure whether or not she had anything else planned. I wasn’t expecting her to, lord no. Having her with me was enough by itself. But I wondered anyway.

“So,” Jiwon said quietly to me later that afternoon, while we were sitting alone on the roof. “When do you plan on going after Eun-ji?”

“I don’t know. Whenever I see an opening. Like when everyone else is in bed and she’s not, for example.”

“Oh, I see. Sometime when you won’t be discovered.”

“Exactly. So what do you think of me and Yiren?”

“I think it’s great. I’m happy for her. And I’m even more happy for you. I understand that you lost your parents when you were young, and we helped you out of the remorse. This must be a dream come true for you.”

I laughed. “You have no idea. I’ve been so…happy since we got here. Obviously I don’t go bouncing off the walls, and I try to act more calm for the sake of peace. But yes, this is a dream come true.”

“Well, now you have both of us.” She purred, nestling herself on me. “And more to come, if you try. But you’re sort of a dream come true for me too, you’re exactly the kind of guy I want.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I try and make myself as attractive as possible, you know? I’ve spent years working out, doing skincare, perfecting myself. There’s no such thing as too good looking, or too perfect. I can see it paying off in full now.”

“So can I. I wasn’t joking last night. I wanted you so bad I could barely breathe. I felt like I would burst if I didn’t fuck you then. No one else has ever made me feel like that.”

“I have something else planned for tonight. Eun-ji isn’t happening yet; I’ve got to wait for her to cool down. But I see another opportunity, which you gave me last night.”

She took a moment to realize and then her eyes gleamed. “I’m not going to say no to that, am I? She’ll agree as well, I know it.”

“I think so. The two of you are so hot. One of you rides my face, the other rides my cock, then you switch. Exciting, huh? Classic MFF threesome, and man, I’m already getting hard thinking about it.”

She reached over and felt, drawing her hand back with a satisfied expression.

“Maybe I can help you out with that in the meantime?”

“I think we could work something out.” I smirked.

She got off the couch and knelt down in front of me, settling between my legs. She unzipped my fly and let my erection free, hands already busy at work.

“Mmm, yes,” I said, feeling the smooth motion of her hands. She bent her head to my shaft and flicked my tip with her tongue, causing a shiver of pleasure to run through me.

She took me in her mouth slowly, tantalizingly slowly. She took time to coat my cock in saliva before lowering herself down on my length, inch by inch.

“Fuck,” I groaned. I intertwined my hands with her sleek blonde hair and pulled her sown further, and she gagged.

“How the fuck are you so good at this?” I questioned, not letting her up to answer. “You’re not even trying, are you?”

She shook her head and started to bob it up and down, immediately taking my pleasure a step further. She readjusted her shirt so that her cleavage was visible, and it just turned me on more.

“I’m getting close already,” I warned, pulling her head down further. “I’m gonna cum down your throat.”

She sucked harder, eagerly trying to make me cum. Her damn throat felt so good, and the cheeky expression on her face topped it all off. She was trying with everything she had, and it was working. Tears ran down her face, creating light streaks from a small application of mascara. Saliva gathered around her mouth and lips in her deepthroat effort. She stuck out her tongue and licked my balls, running her tongue back and forth along my sack. I felt it coming seconds before it did.

“I’m cumming now, fuck, take it, I’m cumming!”

I didn’t pull her head down, I pulled out before my orgasm. I painted her face with my cum, each thick white streak ruining her face a little more. The last drops landed in her open mouth, and I fell back against the couch, breathing heavily. Her face was a mess, streaks of mascara and spurts of white cum covering it. Her spit was running down her chin from her lips.

“Ugh, look what you did to me,” she said, in a tone of mock disgust, but her eyes gleamed with arousal as she scooped my cum off her face and licked it off her own fingers. “I wish I could fuck you now.”

“Tonight, babe. I’m gonna fuck your brains out tonight.”

“I’m looking forward to that.”

She got up and went to go clean herself off. I heard Yiren’s voice as the elevator’s doors opened, and breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t one of the others.

“Unnie? What the-“

Jiwon was silent and then laughed, giving Yiren a playful push towards me.

“Go on, I just have to…clean up.”

The elevator doors closed as Yiren sat down next to me, eyebrows raised.

“Any explanation?”

I laughed. “Is one necessary?”

“Well, the doors opened and there she is, covered in spit and cum and mascara streaks, so not really.”

Jiwon returned about a minute later, face cleaned.

“Yiren,” she began, taking a seat next to us. “Kaito and I have been thinking.”

“We have?” I asked.

“Yes, we have,” Jiwon said, cutting an irritated look at me, “and we had an idea, as long as you’re willing.”

Yiren narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“What idea?”

“A threesome.”

Yiren looked nonplussed. “A what?”

Jiwon slapped her forehead. “Of course, you didn’t tell her, I should have known. Well, it’s where three people have sex, basically.”

“At the same time? How does that even work?”

“Not sharing one dick, but still. Like, one rides the face, one rides the cock. It’s simple. Or,” she added, a touch of seduction in her voice, “two girls at the same time too.”

Understanding dawned in Yiren’s expression, and her voice became equally as seductive. “Oh, I get it now. Well, I can’t say that I object, it’s just a matter of where.”

“Roof?” Jiwon suggested.

“Nah,” I said, “it’ll look suspicious if we keep going up there. I say breakfast nook, me and Jiwon didn’t get caught there.”

“Oh, so that’s where you did it?” Yiren inquired. “No wonder, but it would have to be late enough that no one else would be up.”

“Actually,” I said, another idea popping into my head, “I have another idea. On the first floor, the underground one, I have a bed, we can go there. No one will find us there.”

“Sounds good to me.” said Jiwon.

“Me, too.” Yiren stated, nodding in approval.

Both of them departed, and the moment they had left Sihyeon came in and took a seat next to me.

“So,” she said briskly, in a very composed and dignified manner, “I hear you asked Yiren out.”

I looked around in surprise. “How did you know that?”

“Yiren tells me a lot of things, she doesn’t keep a lot of secrets.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And?”

“She said yes. Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not. I’m glad she found someone she really likes, it’s about time. And I definitely approve of her choice,” she said, looking at me with sincere approval. “You spent your time, money, and energy building this cube for us. You risked your life coming to get us, and you’ve provided a safe space for us here. I can never thank you enough, and if Yiren wants to date you, I say go for it. I can’t think of a better person for her to date, and to be honest she doesn’t have many options.”

Her words made me feel both joyful and relieved. I wasn’t expecting this reaction, nor her words of gratitude, but the fact that she had spoken them made me happy.

“What about you?” I asked. “Do you like anyone?”

Her cheeks turned slightly red.

“Um, no.” She said, blush deepening. “Not - not yet, anyway.”

I had the feeling that I wasn’t alone in concealing something.

…

The fact that Sihyeon approved of Yiren dating me stuck with me the rest of the day. As usual, it wasn’t long before the entire cube knew, and even some of the servants clapped me on the back with muttered congratulations. Hwang-ja came up to me and gave me a clap on the shoulder with a grin and an exclamation of “Rizz! Unbelievable pull for you, Kaito!”

I smiled drily. “Unbelievable, huh? I’d say I saw it coming.”

“Yes, yes, unbelievable!” He said. “I knew this would happen, I knew it! I sensed it the moment you two saw each other!”

“Well, than it wasn’t unbelievable, was it?” I asked, smiling as well.

“Still…” he said. “Anyway, I wanted to talk to you anyway, it’s a bit more important.”

We sat down on the couch and he started talking.

“I wanted to consult you about this before I made any rash decisions. I was a bit nervous about telling you, but-“

“Hwang-ja,” I interrupted, “you can tell me anything, you know I won’t make fun or criticize you.”

“Yes, yes, as I was saying,” he resumed, speaking faster than usual. “For the past few months, I’ve had a huge crush on-“

“Sihyeon.” I finished for him, and he gaped at me. “What, you think I couldn’t tell? It was obvious from the moment I saw you two together. The way she was looking at you back in Seoul, when we made our unannounced visit? The way she looks at you even now? She likes you, I know it.”

“Well, we’ve been talking for a while,” he continued, “and flirting, you know, and I got the feeling she really did like me back. So if you think so too, then I should-“

“Ask her out,” I said, grinning at him. “You like her, she likes you. Ask her out.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was gonna ask. You think I should?”

“Well, let me think,” I said in a tone of false consideration. “You have a thing for her, correct? She likes you as well. I could see you asking her out in my head the moment I saw her looking at you in Seoul. So yes, I think you should make a move. Go on,” I prodded, “you should do it now.”

“Right now?”

“Well, she’s alone, isn’ she? I say go for it. But I will be eavesdropping.”

He went up to the fourth floor with me in tow and knocked on the door to Everglow’s bedroom, where I knew Sihyeon was.

“Who is it?” Sihyeon’s voice called.

“Hwang-ja. Can we talk?”

“Come in, it’s just me in here.”

He opened the door and gasped.

“S-Sihyeon?”

I edged closer to the door, ears straining for anything else. What was going on in there?

“Come here, Hwang-ja.” Her voice was unusually flirtatious and sensual. And it hit me. She was naked in there, of course she was.

He stumbled into the room, shutting the door behind him. I looked under the wide gap under the door and saw his legs walking towards her and her bare legs standing, waiting. I wasn’t going to rubberneck on them fucking, so I left after that. I didn’t bother finding where they were, I started a group chat with Yiren and Jiwon from my bed.

Me:

SIHYEON AND HWANG-JA ARE FUCKING

THEY’RE DOING IT RN

Yiren:

WHAT

Jiwon:

Fr? they’re fucking?

Me:

YEA

MY BOY HAS RIZZ

Jiwon:

lol not surprised

Yiren:

Seriously unnie? I would have never thought sihyeon would do that

Me:

Hwangja was gonna ask her out

He didnt know

I didnt know

Jiwon:

she told me she had a crush on him a while ago

i didnt expect them to fuck so soon tho 🔥

Yiren:

im coming to see about this

unnie u coming?

Jiwon:

already on the elevator sunshine 😂

The elevator doors opened and Jiwon stepped out of them silently, grinning at me and sneaking towards the door. A moment later, soft moans began streaming out of it.

Jiwon:

wow, they rly are going at it 🌶️

Yiren walked out of the elevator as well moments later, and paused when she heard Sihyeon.

Yiren:

wow 😳

Jiwon:

👅👌😮

👉👌😫

🍆💦🤤

👌💦🥴

Jiwon shook with suppressed laughter as she sent these messages, as did I when I recieved them.

Me:

😂😂😂

Yiren:

🙄😂

Jiwon:

me when i make kaito cum in my pussy

😎😏🤤

Me:

me when I make Jiwon squirt all over my cock and scream in pleasure

😎😏

Yiren:

🤣🤣🤣

Yiren was quaking with stifled mirth, laughing at the battle we were having. I wasn’t going to let that happen without retribution, however.

Me:

me when Yiren is so pleasure-addled she says she’ll do anything for me and that shes my slut

😎

Jiwon:

😂🤣🤤

Yiren:

hey

unnie

why that last emoji 👀

Yiren looked up from her phone to throw Jiwon a questioning look, but it turned to understanding as Jiwon approached her.

“We should go somewhere else,” I murmured to Jiwon. We headed over to the elevator and selected the roof, waiting patiently for the destination. My imagination was running wild.

I got out and sat down on the couch, removing my shirt as I did so.

Jiwon walked over to me, pulling Yiren along with her, and knelt in front of Yiren when she reached the couch. Yiren gasped loudly when Jiwon yanked Yiren’s shorts to her ankles. She stood up, stripped off Yiren’s shirt as well, and pushed her down into the cushion.

Yiren fell with a look of lust and excitement on her face. Her eyes danced with arousal as she spread her legs.

“What now, unnie?” She said sensually.

“Now,” said Jiwon quietly, “I’m going to drive you wild.”

Yiren looked eager as Jiwon climbed atop the couch and straddled her. Jiwon’s hands reached to Yiren’s bra, playfully teasing her stiff nipples.

“Oooh, yes,” Yiren sighed luxuriously, eyes closing. “Mmm yeah, keep doing that.”

“You like that?” Jiwon said, slowly rubbing her fingertips over the small bumps on Yiren’s bra. “You want more?”

One hand left Yiren’s breast and slipped down under the hem of her panties.

Yiren gasped as she felt the fingers teasing her wet heat. She gave a small buck of her hips against Jiwon’s fingering.

“Feels so good, you’re so good at this, fuck!”

She gasped and moaned as Jiwon touched her. I had personally experienced the same feeling earlier, Jiwon’s skill was unmatched by anyone I had ever fucked before.

Yiren interrupted my thoughts by giving another loud cry as Jiwon rubbed at her g-spot.

“Yes, don’t stop,” Yiren moaned. “Oh fuck, it’s so good! I’m gonna cum!”

Yiren bucked her hips again, fucking herself on Jiwon’s fingers.

“Nnngh, fuck, I’m fucking cumming…”

Yiren’s voice died. Her eyes rolled into her head as she arched her back and squirted hard onto Jiwon’s hand. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip to stop herself shouting out. The expression on her face was enough to send a shiver of pleasure through my body. I never expected that a mere expression on this angel’s face could make me feel pleasure.

“I’m not done with her yet,” Jiwon added to me in an undertone while Yiren sat panting and gasping, thighs and panties drenched with love juices.

Jiwon unhooked Yiren’s bra from her back and removed it, revealing Yiren’s perfect, full breasts. Her hands dropped to them and fondled lovingly, squeezing and massaging Yiren’s mounds.

Yiren gave small whines of satisfaction as Jiwon skillfully pleased her. But Jiwon had more up her sleeve. She tugged Yiren’s soaked panties off and settled between her legs.

“Unnie,” Yiren whimpered, hands clutching at Jiwon’s head, whose lips were an inch from her wet pussy.

A moment later she screamed in pleasure as Jiwon’s tongue invaded her tight hole, probing and swirling around inside her. Jiwon dragged her tongue along Yiren’s folds, and the expression on her face told me she was enjoying this as much as Yiren was. She licked Yiren’s clit, making Yiren moan sexily, pulling Jiwon’s head into her pussy.

But then Jiwon flipped Yiren over onto all fours and spread Yiren’s legs apart. She took a moment to remove all her own clothes, during which Yiren wiggled her hips needily, begging for more.

“Fuck, oh my god yes, it feels so good!” Yiren cried as Jiwon ran her tongue over her clit again. Jiwon thrust her tongue in and out of Yiren’s pussy, and the height of the pleasure she was giving Yiren was unbelievable even to me. I could tell because Yiren was expressing this feeling very loudly with some finely articulated yells of pleasure.

“Mmm, I’m going to fucking cum again, yesss,” Yiren squealed. “Oh my god, fuck!” She gasped as Jiwon rubbed her g-spot with her tongue. “Oh fuck yes, right there, keep doing that!”

Jiwon kept it up, making Yiren squirm and moan on her knees.

“You’re gonna make me cum, yes yes yes, AHHH!”

Yiren’s expression was contorted in pleasure as she experienced her second orgasm of the night; she shouted her pleasure to the skies as she squirted onto Jiwon’s face, spraying her juices all over her bandmate’s head and upper torso.

“Oh - fuck - that was - so good,” Yiren breathed, chest heaving.

“It was nothing, I could have had you cumming in seconds had I been trying.” Jiwon responded, giving Yiren’s ass a slap. “And as for you,” she added to me, her voice suddenly lower, “I need to take care of you too.”

She crawled over towards me, straddling my clothed erection and kissing me roughly while Yiren recovered. I stripped off what remained of my clothes. She yelped as I grabbed her and flipped her over, making sure she felt my cock rub her wet cunt.

“No,” I growled into her ear, “I will be the one taking care of you.”

She gave a small hum of enjoyment.

“You really enjoyed eating her out, didn’t you?” I asked, looking into her eyes.

“Mhmm,” she said, giving a happy whine at the feeling of me pressing against her.

“Maybe I’ll do the same to you, make you cum a lot. How about that?”

“Mmm yes,” she purred, grinding her hips on me, making my self-control dissolve. “Fuck, I need you Kaito.”

“Fuck her brains out, Kai,” came Yiren delirious voice. She was still laying with her legs open, basking in her post-orgasm bliss. “Do it.”

“I need your cock in my pussy!” Jiwon moaned. “I need you to fill me, to stretch me open, I need you to - ohh, fuck!”

She moaned as I finally rammed my cock into her tight pussy, the pressure on all sides making me groan.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” I said, jerking my hips into hers.

“Fuck yes, give it to me!” Jiwon cried, bucking her hips into my thrusts and yelling out in pleasure. “Right there, fucking pound me! Pound my little pussy, yes!”

I fingered her clit roughly, making her scream out in bliss.

“Yes yes yes, fuck! Fuck me, I’m yours, this pussy is yours! I’m gonna fucking cum soon, keep doing that! Ohh fuck, it’s so good!”

Her dirty talk was turning me on so much I found it hard not to cum myself.

“Shit, I’m getting close,” I groaned, slapping and squeezing her breast. “Your tight pussy is gonna make me cum!”

“Yes, yes, cum for me! Fill me with your cum, give it to me! Oh, I’m gonna cum, yes!”

She arched her back and her toes curled as the feeling took her over, and she gave a small cry as she orgasmed, squirting her juices onto me with one final buck of her hips.

I felt my own orgasm triggering, rushing at me. I gave one final thrust before burying myself inside her tight cunt and spurting my cum deep inside her.

“Oh - fuck,” I said in between pants and groans, eyes closed. “That was - fucking incredible.”

She did nothing but moan in reply as my cum came leaking out of her.

“Kaito, I have to go,” Jiwon said suddenly, looking at something on her phone. “As in, right now.”

She got up and got dressed at the speed of light, dashing into the elevator and jamming a button. And that was the last I saw of her.

“Kai,” Yiren’s voice said again, closer. The sound of her voice, caressing my ears, loving and flirtatious, struck a chord in me. I responded without needing to think, turning onto my side and holding her body to mine. No sex just yet.

“You’re so hot, Kai,” Yiren sighed, hands idly caressing my back. “I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” She smiled at the use of the name.

“I have a question.” She said. “Why exactly do you love us so much? I get that you’re a Forever and you love us because we’re Everglow, but does it go any deeper than that?”

I remained silent for a moment then shook my head, not to say it didn’t go deeper.

“Yiren, you have no idea how deep it really goes. Not only do I love you as a Forever, being honest you saved my life once.”

Her brows creased as she frowned. “What do you mean?”

I took a deep breath. “When my parents died, I was so sad and angry that I nearly committed suicide.”

She put a hand to her mouth.

“I was sitting in my room one day, about three days after it happened, looking through pictures on my phone.” I continued tonelessly. “I got to one of me and my parents when I was twelve.”

She gave an almost inaudible gasp.

“There I am, sitting there, staring at the photo, sobbing. Before I know it I’m on the floor by my nightstand with my knife to my neck, on the brink of ending it all. I was an inch from ending my own life, I looked back at my phone on the bed and pressed the blade against my throat.”

I looked away as my voice broke.

“And then - I remembered,” I gasped, tears welling in my eyes. “That one time I saw a video on YouTube, the first Everglow music video I ever saw. I remembered your face, I remembered the first time I laid eyes on you. I remembered all the videos I had watched since then, your charisma, your charm, your smile. I remembered how much I loved you.”

I saw a silent tear roll down her cheek and she suppressed a sob.

“Don’t,” I said, trying to hold in my own sobs. I was already crying myself, I didn’t think I could handle her being sad without a full emotional meltdown. “Don’t cry.”

I held her closer to me, comforting both myself and her. I held her as tightly as if I let her go I would lose her.

“I’m alright,” I said in a low voice into her ear.

“So what did you do?” She asked after a bit, voice shaking slightly.

“I put the knife away, and I swore to myself I’d never even think about it again. But it was you who saved me. You, by that I mean all of Everglow, but you in particular, kept me from ending it in my darkest hour.”

She was silent for a moment.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It’s awful, I wish it had never happened. I wish those damn Fukuri didn’t exist, I hate them!”

I though she was done, but the rant had only just begun.

“Your parents died because of them! You nearly killed yourself because of them! I nearly never met you because of them! We had to uproot our entire lives because of them!”

“You didn’t have to,” I said hollowly. “I only invited you here to protect you.”

“From the Fukuri!” She shouted. “None of this would have ever happened had it not been for those godforsaken monsters!”

“You’re right,” I said, a thought coming to my mind. “You’re absolutely right.”

“I know I am,” said Yiren distractedly, “They’re the entire reason any of this happened.”

“Yes, and as crazy as I’m going to sound saying this, I bless them for it.”

She stared at me.

“True, they killed my parents, and I hate them for that. I hate them with every fiber of my being. But if they hadn’t, and none of this would have ever happened, I would have never met you. I would have never met any of you.”

She took a second to take that in.

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Clearly. As much as all Forevers hate to admit it, Yuehua was doing a terrible job managing you guys, and there were a lot of rumors about Everglow disbanding this year.”

She looked down.

“People inside Yuehua were talking about that too.” She said. “I was afraid it was going to happen this year as well.”

“So was I. Had it happened, I would have had absolutely no chance of ever meeting any of you. But if the Fukuri hadn’t been here, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now, either.”

“Well,” she said, sliding her naked leg over my waist, “I can think of something do to while we’re here, you know?”

She lifted herself on to me and leaned toward my face with hers.

“Forget the ifs, we’re here, right now. I’m with you. I love you.”

With that, she lowered her lips to mine and gave me a short kiss before sitting back up.

She sat up and in one smooth movement she slid my cock into her sopping wet pussy. Jiwon felt amazing on me, but Yiren was different. She didn’t feel amazing, she felt heavenly. It felt like she was made for me. Her pussy was a perfect fit.

She began rocking her hips on me, soft moans leaving her. It was slow, calm, peaceful. Perfect. We didn’t need to go fast or hard to satisfy us, the euphoria of being with her in this act was enough to satisfy my deepest desires.

“Yes,” she moaned, grinding her hips back and forth, driving my cock deeper inside her. “Oh, it’s so deep, fuck…”

“You feel so good on me,” I replied, stroking her hips softly. “Don’t stop now.”

I sat up and leaned back against the back of the couch and she continued grinding herself on my cock, starting to pick up the pace.

I sat forward and had her lay on her back, legs spread enticingly. I reentered her with a groan myself, ready to fuck her properly and give her a good time.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned as I pushed into her depths once more. “Mmm, it’s so deep, yes…”

I began thrusting hard and fast, her moans turning to cries and squeals.

“Oh my god yes, fuck me harder!” She yelled. “Oh, it’s so good!”

I plowed her harder, putting all my effort into it. My hand went to her neck and pushed her into the couch, not hard enough to choke her, but hard enough to the point where I knew she liked it.

A ding sounded and Jiwon slipped quietly out of the elevator doors. Yiren didn’t notice, she was too busy screaming into the air. Jiwon stripped, took a seat, and waited.

I flipped Yiren over and pushed her back into the couch, making her lay flat against the couch in a horizontal split.

She gave another cry as I started fucking her again, head turned sideways as I pounded her, Jiwon egging me on with dirty whispers in my ear.

“Do it harder, Kaito,” she murmured in my ear, hands running along my back and shoulders. “Give it to her.”

“I - fucking - am,” I groaned, Yiren’s tight pussy relentlessly squeezing me. “Fuck, she’s so tight!”

“I know she is,” Jiwon whispered amidst Yiren’s yells. “Felt like she was gonna rip my tongue out earlier.”

“Ah god yes!” Yiren cried out, mindlessly bucking her hips against me. “Ohh, I’m gonna cum, don’t stop! Please don’t stop, fuck me harder oppa! Nngh I’m gonna cum!”

“Make her cum, Kaito,” Jiwon said, hands still caressing different points on me.

I leaned forward and practically flattened myself on her, every clap of my hips on her ass resounding across the rooftop.

“Fuck, I’m cumming too,” I moaned, railing her with everything I had.

I gave a final groan that was more of a roar and slammed into her one more time, firing my cum deep into her pussy.

With a final scream she finally orgasmed as well, spraying me with her juices and going limp.

“Feels so good…” she panted, breaths slowing and eyes slowly fluttering closed, a bit of my cum dripping out of her pussy. “…so good…”

Her grip on the sheets relaxed and her head drooped into the cushion again as she fell unconscious.

“Wow,” said Jiwon avidly, staring at Yiren’s slowly breathing form. “Did you really just fuck her unconscious?”

I sat back against the couch and closed my eyes.

“Looks like it.”

“That’s - that’s incredible.” She said. “I’ve never seen that happen before. That’s never even happened to me before.”

“I’ve done it before,” I said in a low voice, rubbing my forehead. “Once or twice, with a girl I was dating before.”

“Is the vault still on for tonight?”

“I don’t know if Yiren will be up to it,” said Jiwon, hand drifting over Yiren’s ass, “but I certainly will.”

Soft snores sounded from Yiren as she slipped from unconsciousness to sleep. Fair enough.

“So what are we going to do with her?” Jiwon asked, eyes snapping back to Yiren.

“Dress her, I guess?” I said. “I mean, we can’t leave her here naked. And anyone could come up before she wakes up.”

Jiwon leaned over the edge of the couch, retrieved Yiren’s shorts and panties and in an awkward motion pulled them over Yiren’s slender legs and up to her waist. I grabbed her bra, tried and failed to hook the clasp around her back, and then Jiwon took it and did it herself, with a an amused smirk. I put Yiren’s shirt back on her and laid her on the pillow, pulling the blanket over her for some much deserved rest.

It had been a long day, and it would only get longer from there.

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