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rouiyan · 3 years

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𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘙𝘛 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

⧏ the first volume of rouiyan’s debut series, till death do us part ⧐

synopsis: prince jeno is willing to trade his heart and soul for the throne. but lee jeno is also willing to trade his heart and soul for you.

✧ prince!lee jeno x crown princess!reader ✧ royalty au

✧ genres : fluff, angst ✧ word count : 7.0k ✧ disclaimers : brief descriptions of nudity (nothing sexual), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), malintent

✧ author’s note — i have a bad case of 'lee jeno will forever sit atop my bias list, unmoved,' but i guess this is just my way of coping. happy reading, loves.

back to series masterpost: till death do us part.

prince jeno will never be king. he will never sit atop the throne and his plates will always be silver, not gold. he shall be addressed with 'prince' prior to his name, always and perpetually, and until he's wrinkly, gray and even through the eons after he passes, he will only ever be 'prince jeno.' and this is only because of his stoic-faced brother, crown prince doyoung, who is always a step out of reach. born a little more studious, a little more driven, a little more empathetic, and born a little earlier. jeno knows this, his parents know this, even the kingdom is fully aware, that jeno is an example of what a future king should look like, but also that doyoung is the epitome.

but if there's one thing that jeno excels at, in greater lengths than his brother, it'd be his sense of independence. at the ripe age of one, jeno was already on his own two feet, quick and adept. at three, he could eat solid foods and put on his clothes without aid. at six, he'd gone out of his parent's willingness to learn professional swordsmanship. and at ten, he'd sworn, one sudden night in a fit of angry tears, that he would never marry. he was ten, just touching on double digits, yet he'd never felt such fervent ardor for any one thing. lee jeno was convinced, by none but himself, that he was better off alone, in marriage, in friendships, in brotherhood, in family. he needn't no one but himself for he knew more than anyone, his own capabilities. but he also knew that no matter how ardent he was in his endeavors, he would never be king, at least, not of the southern kingdom.

as he draws himself straight, emerging from the black marbled carriage drawn by horses of black mane, he sets his sights on the scene that unfolds before him. the northern castle is fortified in pristine white; white footbridges, posterns, battlements, towers and pinnacles, and all that meets the eye upon first glance. in the moment, the sunlight is cascading down between passing clouds, reflecting across the rounds of the turrets like thick coils of luminescence. the castle itself, though, serves as a halo of radiance that rests above a breathing orchard which is then, set behind a pathed meadow of gently mowed lawns. there's a noticeable wind that courses through the splaying fields, gurgling the water of the moat he'd just passed and ruffling the wildflowers. jeno's spirits lift as clusters of petals lift from their stems, undulating with the chorus of the wind and wafting a delicate scent.

the prince is accompanied, on either side, by his guards dressed in black and gold accents, he himself, wearing an ensemble of a similar but more explored palette. he's guided by a man of the recipient kingdom, dressed contrastingly in white, that strides a few paces ahead of the arriving group through the orchard of dew-laden trees, their boughs offering bundles of green apples low enough to be grasped by the hand.

it's easy for jeno to momentarily forget the reason he is here in the first place.

he stands, that night, under a flurry of blinding crystal chandeliers and in line with others, kindred to his age and stature, first as a guest and foremost as a suitor. a man enters from the archway on the left, stout but tall in posture, and he announces, "arrival of crown princess y/n of the northern kingdom, followed by the king and the queen of the northern kingdom."

jeno fails to notice how his own breath hitches, but notices the man next to him stir at the sight of you. for good reason, he thinks. your dress is nothing short of seraphic, a layered piece of cream silk upon silk, built up into a fitted bodice and sweetheart neckline. a pearled bodkin swirls back the upper half of your hair, allowing the supple skin of your face to spangle in the light. it's from this he understands that the rumors of your beauty are not half moonshine. he disregards the soft features of your face and focuses on the way you curtsy, gentle but profound, for each member of the line, a bow sent in return for each adjacent man. jeno is careful in his observations but he cannot seem to find a fault in your movements, each tailored to the exact second. your eyes, your attention, your pleasant countenance, spends no more time on himself than the others. this is one of the two things he notes during the feast, the second being your father, the king, taking a blatant liking to whom he knows to be the crown prince of the western kingdom, na jaemin.

an alliance as solid as marriage between the western and northern kingdoms would perhaps be the turnover of the century, a threat to be reckoned with. the aqueducts of the western kingdom, the pure water it provides for the region and its people, paired with the flourishing arts and wealthy merchants of the northern kingdom would yield tremendous power over the agriculture of the eastern and the coal mines of the southern. jeno is sharp in calculations, his resolve shifting and with this, the arranged trip becomes a lot clearer in purpose. he stares ahead, knowing that he has little charm to offer to the miss, but imagining himself on the throne of the northern kingdom for a change. albeit, next to you, but he'll find it in him to deal with that in the long run and for the time being, divert his attention to the young highness.

dinner clears out and the party moves into the nearest drawing room in the west wing of the palace. the princess and her parents are escorted earliest and jeno utilizes the opportunity to make his objective clear with whom he sees as his primary source of competition, the prince of the western kingdom. prince jaemin has a smile gracing his face at all times, a habit that jeno has come to despise the more time he spends looking at. "how do you fair with the princess' impression, mind i ask?" jeno is taken off guard when the boy speaks first, now standing beside him, both gazes held up front instead of at each other. he rights his expression before replying curtly, "a sight to behold, no doubt, but i find her to provide amusing company withal."

"and is that all you see her for? an eyeful and merriment?" jaemin's tone gives way to how he's condescendingly sneering at the prince, in distaste by means of long forgotten familiarity.

jeno doesn't bother to answer for it is now within his knowledge, and the other's, that his intentions are unearthed. jaemin continues, his voice light but carrying heavy weight, "i'd hope that she chooses wisely. the princess deserves her throne."

they are ushered from the vicinities of the dining parlor into the drawing room. the space is lit with candles that glint and flit across the pale green plaster, lined with golden leaf molding and wainscotting. the walls encasing the room are at least a bountiful twenty feet high, the echoes of thirty or so people colliding off the ceilings and upon the polished floor. nothing remarkable can be said besides the fact that the churnings in the pits jeno's stomach become painfully acute with each step you take towards him, and that he, in turn, can't help but take further steps back.

jeno returns to his assigned quarters without a word spoken to or from you. he does not feel belittled by the others, in fact, he knows his royal blood gives him a hefty advantage over the sons of advisors, distant cousins, older merchants, and others of far off importance. he retires into the crisp white sheets after he blows out the already billowing candle by the bedside. prince jeno only dreams of the throne, the only visions he has ever come to see behind the veil of his eyelids, but it's tonight that he's met with you. smile wide in response to something he's said, an act of jest maybe. he smiles along and towel dries your hair lovingly, brushes through it with tender fingers, lays you upon the bed in fluid motions. it's the morning after that he wakes up with no recollection.

the following day is open to any and every pastime the palace has to offer, the only program being the ball in the evening, a gathering of formal introductions by footwork and intense stares. jeno doubts the princess will have enough stamina to follow through with thirty or so consecutive dances, each with different men, but he's adamant to be one of the few. he's ambling directionless in the castle, unaware of which halls leads to what and in the forefront of his mind, he's looking for you, as he is sure many others are as well. he stumbles upon a dusty balcony, evidently unused, by the landing of the fourth level that opens up to an expanse of flowers, rows and rows of varying genera, each blooming in full vigor. it's here that he finds you, frolicking among the reposeful blossoms, mirrors of your countenance that rise to your waist. from what he can see, you're walking alongside the small dirt paths with a brown haired boy of sun kissed skin. hand in hand you walk, and he can almost see the pleasant smile the boy adorns and the vibrancy you radiate.

jeno learns from a maid with a adoring smile, that the boy is prince donghyuck of the eastern kingdom, the youngest son of four and therefore the most unfit match for a crown princess, a spiteful thought that jeno can't help but think. he also learns that he is the one boy, the one person, you've been the closest with since birth and that, out of anger and disapproval, your mother had invited the suitors for the purpose of serving you a more worthy husband and future king. the maid now sports a frightful expression, knowing that she had crossed her bounds by oversharing. jeno is glad though, and reassures her that the secret is safe with him.

he dresses accordingly for the ball, and while many of the fellow suitors donned garments of white to match your family's signature, jeno cannot find a single piece of his that holds the same hue. the color black oozes from the lapels of his pressed suit jacket, from the tie and shirt underneath. the color is second nature to him, one of his own family, and he gives it no thought.

perhaps it's the color, though, that catches your eye that night because you prance over to him not a half hour after the ball commences. kind eyes that feel so welcome on his skin, and though the churns and froths have resurfaced in his gut, he offers his hand in the first and last dance of the night. you say yes to both but the last is when he starts to chip off the guise of royalty to reveal the ramblings of a young girl.

"i'm not in love with him, most certainly not, but i feel strongly that if i were ever granted a say in marriage, it would not be of anyone in this room, no, i would marry my dearest companion." jeno fails to admit that the smooth vibrations of your voice are enough to set fire to his resolve, the purpose behind your hand on his shoulder and his around your waist.

he draws you in, "and why not marry for love?" though he's sure he doesn't mean to.

"and why not should my love for a close confidante count? is it not love all the same?" you pull from him and jeno follows in step of the music to twirl you back into his embrace, just the way a prince should.

"i believe the love you speak is of the head," jeno counters. the ball is in his court, but he pays it no attention, sincere in obtaining an answer, "i am asking why you should not marry for love of the heart?"

"of the heart," you repeat to yourself, an utterance that jeno finds so endearing but cannot bring himself to immerse in. "i've yet to encounter such an emotion. may i ask, has the prince himself ever held such affection towards another?"

he chuckles, "i only know of once where another held my gaze captive. i know little of her, yet i can speak quite arduously on her behalf."

"what a sight she must be," you muse, partially uninterested now that your partner has declared the purpose of his attendance entirely political by speaking of his one true love whilst in your presence.

prince jeno stops, the hand of his on your back slots for more support and he lowers your figure down by the waist, hie eyes never leaving yours and your noses touch, "yes, you are quite the sight."

prince jeno's passed the golfing greens, the rose gardens, the hiking trails, and the fencing grounds, but he has yet to find something that catches his eye, something he has never seen. as a southern kingdom native and royal, the northern kingdom is easily foreign territory. the air is clear here, there's no soot to brush off when you head inside, and a step outside the walls of the palace, he knows he'll find artisan markets that run for miles instead of coal sites. the artisan markets, he thinks, is where he wants to go.

he's just tipping into the edge of the thick forest that lines the southeastern bounds of the estate when his ears pick up on the babble of a creek. jeno's quick to brush through the creepers and ramblers until the trees give into an expanse of open air. the creek he'd thought he heard is in actuality a wide bathing pool, the water a clear green. he spots a level bronzed rock on which you lay, bare-skinned, the direct sunlight engulfing your figure in glorification. quickly, he diverts his eyes and clears his throat to announce his presence. you're also quick to your feet at the sound, scrambling to grasp at your robes strewn about.

to your surprise, the man, whom you've now identified as the second prince of the coal mines, has not left and is simply standing still, his back turned to you. it's now you that clears your throat and he understands well enough by turning back around to face a clothed you, the flames of his cheeks withstanding.

"it's quite alright, you know, nothing to be embarrassed about." he hums in response and you proceed with your thoughts, "but i'd like to affirm it was by chance, was it not?"

jeno clasps his hands behind his back, willing his eyes to yours, "surely by chance, i would no- never- not dare, such intentions are not-" he's cut off by your chuckles, light and airy, like bouts melancholy chords to his ears. the prince, a boy who had been schooled by only the finest etiquette scholars of the region, finds himself blundering for words. jeno is undeniably embarrassed by now, but his eyes soften as you take steps towards him, fingers fumbling to tie your robes shut.

the heat in his cheeks is still very noticeable but his shortness of breath is not. the prince even goes so far as to close the distance between the two of you himself, hands coming to your aid in lacing the strands of ribboned satin together, gently tugging it into a looped butterfly. you think his favored form of communication is the clearing of his throat for he does it once again, "will you allow me hold account for my mishaps?"

"you hardly did much wrong, your highness." his nose scrunches at the formality.

"then may i repay you for your forgiveness?"

your expression isn't shy to conceal your incredulity at his persistence, "my, now i cannot help but be a tad bit intrigued. what can you offer than i cannot already find on my own land?"

"allow me," he pauses, a smile forming before he can even let you in on his gracious idea, "to give you a tour of the artisan marts, what do you suppose?" the smile is contagious, infectious even, spreading onto your face as well, "a mineral boy to guide me through fine arts? i think i ought to say yes."

your peals of laughter are imminent in the air of sundown. he thinks the painted coasters are plates, he sees the tapestries as scarves, the delicate ribbons as horse whips. but when the two of you come across an array of jeweled accessories, he has the gall to sneak a sapphired hair pin from the display and slot it between your locks, the hood shielding your identity from passerbyers falling back. you're eyes are blown wide at this but jeno simply smiles, fingers coursing through two entangled tresses, courtesy of the abrasion on the rough commoner's fabric.

"a pretty face like yours should never have to hide," he chides. jeno's eyes form soft crescents and he's subtle when he takes your hand in his, "wouldn't want to lose you, princess." you see him slip a gold coin for the dear madam selling the goods before he's off, jogging lightly and pulling you close to his back. the destination is unknown to you but the man seems to lead with an air of awareness. he slows a few blocks down, allowing you to catch your breath as you note that his hood has also been brushed back. returning the favor, you go on your toes to ruffle the strands into place, not missing the surprised flinch his composure gives way to. people left and right are starting to notice, it just so happens that the two of you are stood right in the middle of all the commotion that comes with the afternoon wave of customers. "over here."

jeno's hand is in yours again and you wonder if it's the cause of the heavy hammering in your heart. you wonder, because though it is certainly not an unwelcome feeling, you doubt you've ever felt it beat so hard. his hand gives your own a squeeze and it's as if your heartstrings have been strummed like a guitar, his ragged breaths music to your ears, a remedy for your aches. the narrow alleyway he's entered hosts a light at the end and it opens up into a view of the town, the terracotta-tiled roofings, bronzed candle streetlamps, public works funded by your mother, and all the townspeople going about their days, now in miniscule movements. the sun is just about setting but from the looks of it, it might as well be seen as rising. afterall, who is to say that only sunrises bring new days? new times, new beginnings, new understandings, new loves are all brought about just as much from sunsets as sunrises. and if there's one thing to prove that, it's the way jeno's hand never leaves yours, not for the rest of the night.

"and they'd asked if i should want to extend the stay for anyone."

prince jeno crosses his room and leans upon the footboard of his bed. a week certainly isn't enough to develop a bond of marriage but he is glad to acknowledge that it doesn't get any better than this. "and did you?" he knows where you're going with this, you know that he knows, the whole palace knows that you know that he knows. why else would crown princess y/n head down to the guest quarters, to ask for the room number of a specific boy, if not to tell said boy, whom she had spent almost every second of the week with, that she would like it if he stayed?

"yes, i did, i requested your stay. late yesterday, in fact, but i didn't have it in me to inform you until now." you're blushing and he's thrust into the awareness that the feelings you subject him to aren't customary. "will you be staying?" his eyes are unwavering on yours as if to tell you exactly what he means to say before he eventually does, "it'd be my pleasure."

a knock on the door breaks the moment, but jeno is quick to call the maid in. a letter is tucked between her fingers and upon delivery, the prince recognizes his name printed in the neat scrawl of his mother. an absentminded, "thanks" is followed up by the zealous unsheathing of the letter, a ill-minded idea of the content already forming in the forefront of his mind.

our dearest jeno,

it has come to our attention that you plan on extending your stay until a month's time. officials of the northern kingdom are already working in conjunction with our advisors to plan a date. of most excitement did it certainly incite within your family. had i known you'd be married off to a lass of such prestigious blood, i would have sent you much earlier. your father would love to hear of your methods of courting, perhaps your brother could do well with it no doubt. i've no time to spare, the schematics of your succession are coming fast in the drawing room. expect no less than the best and send my warmest regards to the young highness.

all the best, your dearest mother.

"she'd like to welcome you to the family, that's what's said." jeno's thankful that you decided to teeter over to him now, after he finished skimming through the damned article. he has time to fold it closed before you're by his side, fingers reaching for his. he's rubbing smooth lines into the ridges of your palms. "i suppose they are all thinking the same thing, marriage."

you speak, "do you suggest that it's wrong of them?" but jeno wishes you'd get to the point so he can tell you just what he means.

"not wrong, but natural. if i was my father i doubt i'd think any different."

"then, if not your father, how would you think?"

"i think," he's drawn to the way your teeth bite down on your lips. "i think i'd like it." his thoughts block out everything except the image of your lips and he ponders following through with the ideas plaguing his mind. jeno goes in when you draw back, turning to hide your flushed state. you're retreating even further now, taking an exit all together but not before clearing the air. "breakfast tomorrow at seven, east wing. ask a maid if you are unsure."

next time, he thinks.

breakfast is silent sans the clattering of cutlery on plates but jeno finds baseline joy in the shy glances that you sneak at him across the table. he does not, however, particularly like the prolonged stares your father blatantly spends on him. jeno thinks he's about to look away, for the sixth time at that, when the elder decides upon the moment to speak, "a striking young man, i'll let that. y/n, dear, pray tell me your decision was not built on his good looks." your father is rather speaking to you.

your face burns up in tinged mortification, "father, that is hardly an appropriate question to bring up over the course of a family meal-"

much to your chagrin, the king pays no heed to your interjections and resumes, "preposterous as it may seem, i would despise if our ranks were to be infiltrated by those of the miner's kingdom. our liberal arts are not so often mixed with a line of lowly traitors, an observation may i add-"

"father! oh, how lowly it is of you to be restricting a kind young sir of royal blood to the bounds of his heritage!" your mother has halted in her tracks, setting a golden spoon aside and retreating her hands to her lap.

"must you forget that the blood in him courses silver not gold?" your father's voice never raises, never lowers. you fail at maintaining the same composure, distress budding between outbursts.

"color does not render the propriety of one for better or worse. i believe that was what you'd taught me to rule by but for laughs or for naught, a king you so-call yourself!"

breakfast is silent once again, but this time, not even the aid of cutlery against plates is around to sheath the tension in the air. jeno's enlightened to learn of this side of you. your eyes are hardened, your jaw left slightly unhinged, and deep breaths are taken to retain any sort of semblance. he sees determination in your eyes, lined with a raw and unearthed air of conviction, and there's no other way to describe the look on your face except to say that you are solely driven by a vehement passion for righteousness. but drawing back from the you who has captivated him, he's left with the realization that he hasn't given a second thought to his original resolve since setting foot in the palace. and while the four of you sit in silence, glares and glowers being thrown about, prince jeno is daunted by the fact that more than ever, he feels the fervent ardor that in order to be a king, deserving of accolade and reverence, he needs you by his side to be his queen.

"what my father thinks is beyond me, really. i'd only hope what he said doesn't deter you all that much." you pop a cherry into your mouth, fingers clasping the stem and tugging it off with a pop. jeno looks down at you in adoration, the events of this morning a figment of the past. "not much at all for me, if it doesn't bother you." the soft smile that fills his countenance is given as if to say, 'as you wish, my love.'

you sit up abruptly, the thin cotton cloth scrunching under your thighs. the grass is still dewy from the morning showers but you slip off your sandals in favor of the bare grit of soil beneath your feet. the sun is beginning to stutter from its position overhead but not so fast, you think, the day has just begun. with one last look spared for the bewildered boy, you mouth a 'catch me if you can,' before bundling up the folds of your linen dress into your hands and taking off into the open fields. native flowers of poppies and calendula, orange and white, are trampled in your wake but you don't mind because prince jeno is hot on your heels. he is hot on your heels with a grin of mirth gracing his expression and strides that are long and fast. so fast that you are caught within a matter of seconds, encased in his arms before you even know it, feet lifting off the ground and squeals of protest in response. the adrenaline in your system is slow to subside as you land on your feet once again, eyes lit up like a child's in front of santa claus. the verdant grass looks a murky brown behind your rose-tinted glasses but prince jeno continues to look ethereal. grasping his dark locks in a fistful, you tug him down so that your lips meet and in no time, his lips are working fast against your own. the sensations are nothing short of paradisiacal, as opposite ends of the planet meet, the sun and the moon, the sky and the earth, summer and winter, water and fire, and silver and gold.

wet and slippery, you laugh at the strand of saliva that spreads thinner as you part from his lips. jeno repositions so that you are situated on his back and he allows you to catch your breath before strolling aimlessly across the grounds, as if what happened seconds beforehand didn't just mark the beginning of time. he takes you back inside once the sun has set and your eyelids are half closed. he waits outside in your chamber as you bathe and he stands behind you as your sit in front of your vanity, hair dripping wet and a towel in hand. jeno is gathering your hair in his hands, smoothing over your wet locks with the cloth when he remembers. he remembers the dream he had just over a fortnight ago. the one where he stood in this exact spot. he remembers it just as he sees you give a small chortle in the reflection of the mirror in response to him playfully pulling your hair a little too hard, an act of jest. the trickling feeling of déjà vu hits him so terribly hard but he can only live out the dream in real time, his fingers gently raking your now dried hair. he spins you in his seat and decides that whatever vision he was granted hadn't been revealed to him until now for the very reason being that he simply wasn't ready. the jeno of two weeks ago wasn't ready to love another, to accept another, to cherish another as he does now. now, for you.

prince jeno's eyes are glazed over in awe and revelation as he feels the way your hands draw him closer to you by his waist, entwining your bodies. he's overcome with the need to be the one to make you feel the same way you do unto him. gingerly he lifts you from your spot, hands hooking under the crevice beneath your knees with your arms riding up to his shoulders while effectively removing his shirt in one fluid motion. he's glad that you share the same idea.

that night is the first of many where he shows you the sheer magnitude of which he loves you. he lives for the look of your star-studded eyes, rolling back into your head and the way your toes curl as you call out his name and his name only. he breathes for the way your fingers are in a world of their own as they scour every inch of his hair, pushing and pulling the same way the moon teases its waters. his mere existence is reliant on the shine of his arousal on the bare skin of your stomach. with each time, jeno is reborn.

it's the crack of dawn when he hears your voice, barely scathing the absolute threshold, "i am still very much awake."

"as am i," jeno lifts his head to look across the room, past the dirtied sheets, the swathes of clothes on the ground, to the doors of the balcony that are swung wide open. the sky is of a distilled blue, not yet bright, but still illuminated by the crown of the sun.

"would it be deemed a waste to simply lay here for the duration of the night?" you question, but move to sit up in decisiveness. jeno answers offhandedly once again, even now revelling in the feeling of your skin on his, "i would feel so, yes."

"shall we take a trip to the study? i recall you mentioning a desire to visit." the prince smiles at this. curt again, "if you'd like."

"yes, a warm cup of tea and agreeable literature is an ancient remedy for sleeplessness. my, morning it is already. i don't suppose a morning nap has ever been heard of, though i'd think i'd like just that at this moment." you mumble out the last half, partially rambling to yourself.

"light a candle, my dear, my eyes aren't half as sharp in the dim light." you chuckle at that and reach for the brass pricket set on your bedside table. upon lighting it, you are met with the boy's face irradiated in such a way that accentuates everything from his sharp jawline to the apples of his cheeks. he smiles as takes the instrument from you to allow you to don some clothes. the same is done for him and the two of you make quick time in rushing across the stale floors of the palace to the opposite wing.

the main library, situated on the third floor but occupying large parts of both the third and fourth, is certainly the pride and treasure of the palace, the crown jewel of the northern kingdom even. the separate floors are each sixteen feet in height, filled wall-to-wall with encased book upon book. the collection dates back to the romans and as far forward as your most recent journal entry. jeno pads upon the floors that boast a parqueted mahogany, the same that runs along the integrated shelving and the carvings that crown the skylight above. the windows are made of giant panels of stained glass, mosaics that depict the landscapes just beyond, and as a result, the little light the sun has to offer is cast in shades of blue, green, and red. an assemblage of the masterpieces of ettore forti, genuine, he suspects, are hung in individual alcoves and molded with golden embellishments. jeno thinks the northern kingdom simply cannot have anything better to offer than this. except for you, he thinks.

a maid delivers your tea promptly, a gentle brew of loose leaf herbs, ginger and rooibos by the taste of it and you settle into the plush velvet of the segmented lounge. the work you're reading aloud is enough to keep you awake for the better half of an hour before you begin dozing off. your soft and even breaths are enough for jeno to be shaken from his attention on a few select poems, and he's careful when he moves to replace the leather-bound diary in your hands, with a hand of his own. jeno uses his other hand to cradle the side of your face, as any besotted boy would do, caressing by the means of docile strokes. he feels a mellow calm when you're persistent by his side, even in your sleep. tucking a strand of hair behind your ears, he's leaning in for a quick kiss to the temple when the door of the study is propped ajar, a boy of briefer height emerging from the unlit halls.

jeno recognizes the boy almost instantly, the image of you walking hand in hand with him still as unrelenting in his mind as it was on day one. lee donghyuck, of similar surname but a long-diverging lineage, the fourth prince of the eastern kingdom of agriculture. jeno isn't hit with jealousy, per se, but rather annoyance.

donghyuck's steps halt the moment he sees the still figure on the juniper-stained chaise. his brows draw in suspicion but he's prudent of the expression he lets on. a dialogue of whispers ensues.

"prince jeno, is it?" donghyuck's face darkens when the other nods. "ah, i've heard of the tidings, may i pass on sincere felicitations to you and your betrothed."

"much obliged, prince donghyuck, i presume." obverse, the aforementioned boy nods.

despite all his efforts, donghyuck can't help but let loose a sliver of his composure, "i have little credit i can give to your word, but i'd like to hear what you have to say in regards to the arrangement."

prince jeno is ticked off now, to say the least, he hides his vexation by keeping his reply as formally insincere as he can muster, "elated, the arrangement could not have been better dealt with."

"and you are a man that deals in the prospects of union?" donghyuck does not mean to nitpick but there's no way around it when the prince in front of him is so obviously indignated by his presence. you could say that he's been provoked.

voice held level, jeno proceeds, "i am a man of virtue and i come in good faith, i assure you."

"i must inquire, a man of virtue and good faith? i'd like to know of you and your families' conspiracies, falsities, machinations." a snide and low-shot remark, no doubt, but it riles up the taller of the two fair enough.

jeno sussurates, raspy voice and all, "and who are you, brave enough to speak in such a fashion to a second prince."

"gold by marriage is synonymous to silver by birth. why count the numbers when we are one and the same?" donghyuck's voice is still a bare undertone, but harsh and course in resonance.

"a pity you weren't raised to tell the difference." neither of the princes bother to conceal their malignity for the other. if you were awake, neither would know, too caught up in the heat of their frustration.

donghyuck is fed up with years of spite and built-up distaste. in between all the blundering he has found a point, a target to aim for. he may not see jeno as a harm to you but he knows there's an unspoken wedge that revolves around his family. donghyuck glows in his opportune moment, then he strikes, "and you were raised upon your father's supremacy. do tell, do you believe your father to be an honest man?"

he is met with jeno's silence, compliance, submission.

the leisure sport of swordsmanship is what prince jeno sets out for first thing after ensuring you had woken and eaten something fulfilling. he is in the need to exert his energy on something, or someone, that isn't an acquaintance of yours, for fear that he has done more damage than good by manifesting himself as an enemy in the eyes of your closest companion. he requests your court's highest ranking knight and is surprised and slightly jarred that the man before him is of a smaller stature, a few inches shorter with narrow shoulders and lean muscles. renjun is the name he goes by and he dominates without the need of force. jeno tells the boy to display his best effort, that a scuff here and there is fine, but he severely misconstrues his opponent's abilities.

renjun, as it turns out, finds amusement in jeno's stances, flaws evident in ways that only he can see. undermining the prince's pride is what he aims for and he does exactly that, successful with three strokes, two that flit like sparks in the air and the last that scathes the skin of the prince's left wrist. it's small in area and deep in puncture, the raw film underneath unfurling within itself, but it's enough for him to call the session off. jeno's hand withdraws from the new wound and he's met with the sight of red.

the prince is drawn, in many ways more than one, to the red as it seeps between the clasp of his fingers. as it begins its descent towards the fast-approaching floor, the floor of white limestone. he's drawn by the depth he sees within the color, the solidarity he feels towards the hue. in the silver ichor that pools by his feet, he's drawn to his blood red reflection.

jeno finds you retired in your room that night, in exhaustion of formal meetings and other circumstances that required a princess' supervision. despite this, your visage still lights with joy upon seeing the prince. "would you prefer if i let you rest?"

"depends, what will you propose if i refuse?" the lilt to your voice has him almost coddling, his thumbs running circles on the skin behind your ears down to your neck to release the tensions. "i'd propose a midnight adventure, stargazing maybe."

you give a modest snigger, "a bit of a romanticist, aren't you?"

"only for you i must admit." his tone is humorless. "are you up for it, dear?"

your face returns taut, "yes, needless to say, only for you."

prince jeno takes you by the hand, he leads and you follow. he makes rounds about the same halls, you think he's unsure of where he is heading, but he comes to a stop at the precipice of the fourth landing. the balcony that leans off to the side is one that you have never stood atop of before though you're unsure why. the outlook it bestows upon you is breathtaking, even in the dead of night. just barely are the outlines of the flowers oscillating in the drafts shown, even fainter are the hills that overlap in the distance, but oh-so-clear is the moon.

it's quartered today, the slope of the curve is round and prominent. all of a sudden, jeno is quoting ray bradbury, a classic text he knows you'll know a little too much about. "and if you look," he nods to the sky, "there's a man in the moon." as he conjectured, you're quick to catch on the act before the moment dissipates, "he hadn't looked for a long time."

"do you believe in the man in the moon?"

"i believe in the man and the moon, but the man in the moon is very much apparent as well." your eyes are set in the stars. "he is astray and far from the ground, from earth. he does not seek what we all should seek, but rather he dives headfirst into the superficial."

"and what is it that we all should seek?"

"the one thing in the world that carries any significance at all: happiness."

it is now that prince jeno sees himself as the man in the moon, chasing after mirages of aspirations when in truth, he does not find solace in power, he does not revel in the destruction of others, he does not take lightly when the lonely are forsaken and he shall never partake in the atrocities his father subjects him to. but the man in the moon is a conscious past of his, a living memory of growth, for jeno finds happiness in you; you who grounds him to the earth.

lee jeno thinks the world of you and, as the greatest russian poet ever wrote, "she is a beauty. yes, a marble nymph; angelic eyes, unearthly lips…" (Alexander Pushkin, The Collected Works; "A Suite of Lighted Rooms")

read volume two here: overcast skies and those who die.

#nct ff #nct fics #nct scenarios #nct jeno #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno angst #jeno fluff #jeno ff #jeno fanfic #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

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shouldntcryoverit · 3 years

Text

the art of discordance

captain rex x jedi fic during clones wars era...

CHAPTER TWO

Pure chaos resonated as the small team fought to overcome the controls. The panic bubbling over from the separatist attack didn’t diminish as the smaller ship shot through lightspeed, leaving three half crazed jedi, a few clones, and one injured general.

“Turn the power back on! Turn it on!” Jaida yelled into the cockpit. The victory of avoiding the burning sun they were previously on course to crash straight into was short lived as they swerved dangerously close to another planet.

“I’m... trying!” Aayla groaned, hand outstretched to the lever. It clunked downwards and Jaida, Rex and Aayla fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

The ship plummeted towards the ground, having lost all control over the engines. Smoke encased them through a straight course at least an inch into the growth, leaving a scorched dent in their path. The clones and jedi scrambled to get out the burning wreckage of the ship, though when they all collapsed in relief, they found their situation to be no better.

Anakin was in a bad condition, one that looked to be deteriorating quickly. Ahsoka and Jaida carried him to rest under a makeshift tent, but the young padawan didn’t move as he lay unconscious. Jaida watched with concerned eyes, for her friend yes, but also for the young togruta that shuffled anxiously. The pair hadn’t spoken much; Ahsoka had spent her time training or at the temple whereas Jaida remained very much rooted in battle rooms, but the times they did spend with each other Jaida found the kid’s attitude refreshing. She knew why Anakin spoke so highly of her.

“he’ll be okay kid” Rex reassured. Ahsoka nodded solemnly and sighed, walking forward to talk over her master.

“Jaida and Rex will watch over you, be strong master” the togruta uttered, before resuming her position beside the knights.

The two watched as the rest of the group ran off into the tall grass, leaving them to stand in silence.

Jaida let out a shaky breath as she folded onto the ground, Anakins feet in front of her.

Rex spoke first “he will be okay, sir” it was an attempt to reassure her, though she had not admitted she was worried.

Her response was another huff of breath, followed by a hand running through her hair.

“Anakin has always had the ability to bounce back from injuries, it seems even his body is too stubborn to stop fighting” her words fell heavy as she watched her friend’s chest rise and fall slowly.

Rex’s smile settled “you care more than you let on, don’t you?”

Her eyes lifted from Anakin’s form and met his in a rigid glare. Rex regretted his boldness instantly, but her eyes softened in admission.

“i saw your order” he continued bravely “the men wondered were it all came from” he was referring to the extra order of cotten blankets she had placed a week previously. Rex assumed it was out of compassion as she realised the coldness of the Resolute.

“good, men work better if they actually manage a decent night sleep” She got up and brushed herself down, peaking her head around the corner to check for any signs. Rex felt a twinge in his stomach of her disregard; her kind act now seemed tainted as nothing more than a battle strategy, and it left a bad taste on his tongue.

Rex took a moment actually size up the new general. Her robes were similar to Skywalker’s, but they fitted her form more. She wore black boots and gloves up to her elbow, her collarbone hidden with the same material. Her hair was lighter in the sun, but Rex could still see the way it framed her face and fell loosely from its plaited hold. Her face was still set in that expression of neutrality, though it broke slightly as the hint of serenity curved her alluring lips. Her eyes were young and bright, full of a mixture of gold and blue.

Before she could say anything else, a roar broke the silence, followed by the pounding footsteps of two animals.

Rex shot up, blasters ready, and Jaida ignited her duel blade. They shared a look of panic, before they each dove away to block or attack whatever strike came at them.

After quite some struggle, the pair had overcome their attackers, and the two animals lay dead on the ground. Before the interruption, Jaida had felt a new sense of gratitude towards the captain. That maybe she had misjudged his professionalisms and could enjoy his company further than what protocol dictated. It was when Rex propped himself up that Anakin groaned awake. At the noise, Jaida hurried to his aid.

“Anakin! You okay?” she helped him sit up. He groaned once more and faultered against his injuries.

“this mission- sucks” he managed. As he came to, the surroundings became clearer. “you look like hell”

“always a charmer” she grinned as he helped him up.

“what happened to the others?” Skywalker quizzed

“the went to look for help, actually they should be back soon.”

“so we don’t have a ship, communication or supplies, great” Anakin grumbled

“negativity doesn’t suit you”

“you got a better outlook?” before Jaida could reply to his question, the rest of their team stumbled out of the grass, along with a new companion.

By the time it took to take Anakin back to the village, his condition had deteriorated. Jaida couldn’t budge the irrational feeling in her stomach, but held face as Ahsoka trudged next to her.

“I understand staying neutral, but really? i mean you gotta have an opinion at least!” she ranted

“some people just don’t care about what doesn’t involve them” Jaida countered absentmindedly

“selfish”

“perhaps”

They made it to the village, and despite the old chief’s disgruntled disagreement they were allowed to seek refuge. It was no retreat, that was for certain, but Ahsoka for one felt entirely more secure knowing that her master was getting the medical attention he so desperately needed.

He was whisked away by the village medic almost as soon as they arrived, and the three Jedi left remained cautious of theyre situation.

Time passed, with Ahsoka helping a few villagers carry out daily tasks, and Jaida scouting the near area; it actually felt like time had stopped. There was a peacefulness that none of the visitors had experience in such a long time, for clones maybe never. Rex had never been able to sit and watch as children laughed and played, without thinking about how he should escape if need be. It was tranquil and calm, and it made Rex think.

When Jaida returned, she returned quickly.

“Ahsoka! Tell Aayla we’re gonna have company!” her shouted alerted the relaxed captain into a far more rigid standing.

“who is it?” Bly questioned with furrowed brows

“seppies”

—————————————————-

Everytime she looked his way there was something that sparked, or snapped maybe - he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t anything good, but he doubted that it was hate. Rex just couldn’t stand the feeling he gave her. So he figured he couldn’t stand her.

It was no different now as the pair waited behind the stacks of nut pods for the enemy to near. A plan had been formulated after they left the village so quickly, and by seeing the extent ifthe seperatist forces it was no wonder they had scrambled to do so. Jaida had already irked him today, by seeming so unbothered by the idea of a new ion canon, one that was able to wipe out all organic matter.

His distractions dissipated when the first shot flew past his head. That was certainly enough to wipe his mind. He ducked behind a pod and began shooting, knocking droids down like a pin ball game at 79s.

The disctractions, those that humanised into the form of a woman standing of few metres to his left, seemed to have a mind of their own. Jaida slunked away from her position, and walked straight out into the battlefield. Rex grinded his teeth as she put away her lightsaber. He had to remind himself that yes she was putting herself in unecessary danger, and that no, that wasn’t what he was angry about.

“im sure your a smart man” Jaida called out, hands calmly behind her back “there’s certainly a more pleasant way to deal with situations” the words fell fruitlessly off her tongue.

“what’s she doing?” Bly muttered with spite, though Aayla dismissed his question with a wave of her hand.

“don’t try to trick me, jedi”

“there is no trick. You are the one with canon of course” she smiled coldly at the separatist, patronism seeping through her tone “although, if we do manage to reach an agreement, your day might just turn out swell”

“was that a threat?!” the hast in his voice caused a loud clunk to be heard as the droids aimed they’re guns once more.

“nope” Jaida said, popping the ‘p’, just before a clankers took a shot, and she dodged it. Perfectly.

It looked like some sort of game on the holonet, Jaida avoiding each bullet carelessly and without struggle, as if they bent around her path instead. She reached a safe distance, and smiled pleasantly, reaching into a pocket behind her back and drawing a small explosive. She threw it into the canon opening, and the problem was solved with a rattling boom.

Her solution did work, but Rex still kept a stern look. Even when the support ships finally rescued them.

He kept it until she rested beside him, both standing against a wall bored and tired.

“you look tired” he commented

“hm” Jaida’s eyes never left the datapad she was staring at. “you should get some rest too, it’s been a long few days” she deliberated carelessly. When the captain didn’t reply she turned her head to face him.

“what is it?”

The captain tittered antagonisingly “why is it that you always have to go off script?”

Jaida looked at him with a more confused look than anger.

“i saved those villagers, you know that was my only intention?” her tone was clear, informative.

“you do never fail to keep battles interesting” Rex quipped

“i think i’ll take that as a compliment” she grimaced

“perhaps you should”

She spoke after a moment of pregnant silence. “captain if there’s something you have to say i suggest you say it”

“with all due respect, you ought to realise that you have a responsibility to your men, to yourself even” he began after a beat.

“it isn’t something i’ve failed to notice”

“you brash, careless- you act like you have nothing to loose”

“we’re fighting a war” Jaida countered

“and we don’t need anymore casualties than we already have” Rex’s voice was no longer as angry as it began, now growing colder as exasperation clawed at his tired mind.

Rex paused, taking a deep breath of his own and trying to rid himself of his own irrational and unprofessional nags.

“i am not a liability, you need to trust me” she was stern now. It wasn’t that the captain had irked her, his anger came from a very real place, but she was just annoyed that she couldn’t find the words to calm it.

“and you need to trust that we know what we’re doing, even without your last minute strategies”

Silence. Jaida clicked her tongue, acceptance though Rex didn’t know to recognise it.

“goodnight general”

She locked eyes with him once more. A second passed, before he left her in silence.

He didn’t hate her. That he knew for sure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you liked this let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters! :))

Taglist -

@pinkiemme

#captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex #501stlegion #the clone wars #clone wars #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano

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blixalookscarsick · 3 years

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The Crimson Masquerade - Finale: The Feast of Demons

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034669/chapters/69800853 Ff: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13189715/52/The-Crimson-Masquerade

Preview:

In the all-encompassing darkness that has become Nyarlathotep’s world, two lights shone with diabolical vigour. Satanael sore high, relentlessly firing at the near-omnipresent Crawling Chaos. Below, where the Phantom Thieves resisted against absolute defeat, a new incarnation was stepping forth into existence. Anthropomorphic - half material, half ethereal. The Persona’s body was coated deep ebony, with accents in silver and gold, and broken chains rattling at her heels like furious serpents.

Much like the Demon Lord Satanael, Lilith carried an ancient, devilish air about her, yet she boasted a peculiar, almost divine flourish. A remnant of her once-hallowed nature, be it as Adam’s lost spouse, or God’s estranged half. Through fall or exile, the Mother of all Demons rose as a commander of rebellion. And now she stepped forth, into a place that should have never been - into a deeper horror than the very bowels of Hell. The slow, waking steps broke into a run.

The gloom around the Phantom Thieves suddenly felt thinner. Within seconds, the suffocating miasma of evil seemed to recede, to pull back into the centre of itself. It was as if Satanael and Lilith’s very presence was making the world shudder.

“That’s... incredible...” Mona spoke, uncaring of the oppressive intent that continued to wear them down.

“A bike, a robot, and now... I don’t even know what to say!” Skull marvelled at the uncanny progression of the lieutenant’s Personas.

“One thing’s for sure...” Panther felt something surge within her, compelling the young woman to stand back up. “We got a fighting chance!”

“And we won’t let it go to waste.” Fox slowly overcame the enemy’s debilitating intent.

“Remember everyone, Joker and Queen are not the only ones still in the fight.” Noir stood up; she felt weakened but resolute.

“Alright.” Oracle got one final reading from what little energy was left to Prometheus. “If all that’s around us is Nyarny, that everything is a target.”

“That works for me.” Through strain and effort, Skull was back on his feet. There was too little within to summon his Persona for a blaze of glory. But the club in his hand still itched for retribution. Returning to the craft as a Phantom Thief was no different to running again. It came natural, but it was not without its difficulties. In the end, it all boiled down to simply catching his breath.

The rest managed to get back up on their feet, while the team’s leader were at the vanguard, giving their all.

Queen’s final Persona joined the fray with a vengeance, immediately striking against Nyarlathotep’s core with her chains. From a great distance, the first impact was a cruel assault to the senses, as were the second and the third. The Phantom Thieves could only surmise what kind of strength Lilith wielded, but the Crawling Chaos experienced it in the flesh, and thus he knew: One Demon might delay his fatal gambit, but the combined power of two would surely compromise it.

He could not let them live, after unmaking his plan. It was no pragmatic consideration that they may again stand in his way upon his return. But it was not pure spite, either. Wherever he may choose to resurface, Persona users will always gravitate towards his manifesting. But they - the Phantom Thieves were a unique sort. Like himself, they championed and thrived on chaos. But at the same time, their survival was a testament to Philemon’s faith in human kind. Two irreconcilable paradigms coexisting in harmony. Satanael’s return and Lilith’s rise were an incontestable truth to the matter.

The Phantom Thieves, by themselves, were an ultimate contradiction - one he could not even stomach. No matter how, he had to snuff them out. Erase and consume them within this dying world. One final breath would do the trick, a deathly exhalation containing the purest evil and madness that lay in the human soul, expelled directly upon the Demons. Without further aces up their sleeve, the rogues’ defeat would follow on its own.

This was his final design as Master of this short-lived domain. He siphoned all of his might into one final onslaught. Meanwhile, the Crawling Chaos withstood the Demons’ relentless offence. Every single blow could potentially fell the Dark Lord. What had started as a war of attrition has become a battle of wills - one he knew he could yet lose.

#The Crimson Masquerade #Persona 5 #Persona 5 fanfic #Akira Kurusu #Ren Amamiya #Makoto Niijima #Ryuji Sakamoto #Morgana #Ann Takamaki #Yusuke Kitagawa #Futaba Sakura #Haru Okumura #Sae Niijima #Sojiro Sakura #ShuMako #RyuAnn

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loruleanheart · 3 years

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Desired Fate, Chapter 10

Read on FF.net

Read on AO3

The atmosphere around him had become much colder and darker as night descended on the Gerudo Highlands. The prophet stirred. Everything hurt, but there was also the headache that only intensified when he tried to reason with what had happened.

It had to have been a dream… A very terrible and ridiculous dream… Yes, a dream… Not a prophecy...

His mind couldn’t accept that Hylia herself spoke to him.

Yet, If it hadn’t been real, then how had he survived Sooga’s attack?

Hylia… That vile goddess had turned his whole world upside down, her ways more bewildering to Astor than even the Yiga Clan.

The conflicting thoughts had been tormenting to begin with, now they were only magnified to an unbearable intensity. As devoted as he was to the Calamity he was only mortal, and he didn’t want to perish over what he’d so blindly followed for too long. But the alternative would make him a failure in Calamity Ganon’s eyes, and wasn’t the Calamity the only thing that mattered?

She had known everything… Every thought and emotion no matter how deep or repressed, she had laid it all bare, and it terrified him. He feared his thoughts of the princess and his potential to be disloyal to Calamity Ganon.

That wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about. The Yiga Clan was almost certain to make another attempt on his life, and they knew the location of his hideout. The prophet gave a frustrated groan and turned to leave the Gerudo Highlands before a potential ambush could be devised by the clan.

He began to wander northeast aimlessly, only having a vague idea of where he was going. Eventually, desert cliffs gave way to lush green fields.

He could see Hyrule Castle’s silhouette in the distance, and he began to feel jittery, nearly breaking into a burst of insane laughter. He tried to focus his thoughts on how ironic it was that he and the princess now had the Yiga as a common enemy. Anything to not have to think about what was revealed to him by the goddess. It couldn’t be true…

Oh, I’m sure that would go over well. The king would be so thrilled… The prophet thought facetiously.

He gave Hyrule Castle and its surrounding town a wide breadth, also avoiding villages or other areas where people might congregate.

As he rounded the perimeter of the Lost Woods he couldn’t help but notice how visible the back of the castle was from this vantage point. Which window belonged to the Princess? The castle’s wide moat separated the ground he stood from the castle, but still, it was breathtaking to be so close.

The Lost Woods was much the same way. It was surrounded by water, with only one foot-path going in. The pink flowering top of the Great Deku Tree could be seen at the center of Great Hyrule Forest, and Astor thought back to that fated day he crossed paths with the princess before that great, imposing tree. Somewhere, within those woods was a much more mysterious place he had only seen in visions - that place where the Silent Princess flowers grew rampant, and he was intent on finding it.

oOo

“No matter what it takes, you must awaken your power before the Calamity returns.” King Rhoam’s commanding voice filled the castle’s sanctum.

Zelda looked down, gathering her resolve. If the Calamity was going to rise on her 17th birthday, as newly uncovered images from the broken Guardian indicated, she didn’t have much time left.

Whatever it takes? What is that supposed to mean? I’m already doing everything I can.

She bit back her protests, one more time, ever the good, obedient daughter. “Understood.”

“I sense you have become complacent regarding your duty,” King Rhoam said, becoming colder.

Zelda slowly looked up, at a loss. She could sense Impa’s sympathetic gaze on her, and she wanted to cast a glance back at the advisor in shared exasperation but thought better of it. “I - I’m sorry father. Please believe me. I’m trying my hardest. I really am -.”

“No more, excuses, Zelda! From this moment on you are to have nothing to do with the childish hobby you’ve been carrying on with Sheikah technology and you are to devote yourself fully to unlocking your power. You must be single-minded in this crucial duty. Or perhaps it is your poor attitude that is interfering with your training.”

Zelda flinched internally, but it barely showed on the outside.

“Yes, I understand… I will try harder.”

The King’s expression hardened and he raised his voice. “No, you don’t try! You do it! You are going to the Spring of Courage immediately, and Link and Impa are to accompany you, do I make myself clear?”

The Princess held her head high as she headed to her chambers to change into her ceremonial white gown. As soon as she was out of sight she let out a big huff and nearly broke down, but somehow held herself together.

She took her time getting changed, disconsolate and a little bit spiteful to have been humiliated in front of her friends.

The gown was pure white and was designed with the goddess Hylia as inspiration. It was a small consolation to feel closer to her ancestor by donning the dress and royal heirlooms.

She fixed her hair, undoing her braid and brushing it out. She put on the gold bracers and tossed her hair to one side to fasten the gold Hylia crest necklace passed down in the royal family for countless generations.

As she languidly moved about her chambers, her mind raced with thoughts of hopelessness. She had already trained at the Spring of Courage and Spring of Power in the past, and both had yielded no results. All that remained was the Spring of Wisdom on Mount Lanayru, and she would only be permitted to make the trip up the mountain when she reached the age of 17. But with knowledge of the day of Calamity Ganon’s return she knew it would be too little too late.

Before she left her chambers, Zelda paused to look at herself in the mirror. She gave a sharp exhale. All of Hyrule was believing in her, leaning on her to save them... or at least that's how it felt. Zelda wasn’t unaware of the fact that she was the subject of mockery among those who were aware of her unfulfilled duty. And although those closest to her were doing their best to support her, a void remained.

The worst was coming. She knew it. If only she had someone to brace herself against for when the Calamity would inevitably rise and consume everything and everyone she loved.

Zelda rested her forehead against the mirror and closed her eyes, holding back tears one more time, unsure how much longer she could hold on before she gave out.

oOo

Astor found himself in that mysterious place. The one seen in his visions as of late, particularly when the princess drew near to him. It was an ethereal and dark forest, hidden away within the Lost Woods much in the same way as Korok Forest. Perhaps it was the goddess who led him there and allowed him to find it, although Astor wasn’t sure if it was real or illusionary.

Moonlight peaked down through the tops of the trees, the blue and white Silent Princess flowers seeming to glow in its light. Was it always night here? It was clearly a refuge for him.

He took an uncertain step forward, looking around. There was a small spring of clear water.

He thought of the princess and how she would likely go to the Spring of Courage and Power soon. Let her try, the prophet thought. She wasn’t going to be unlocking that power anytime soon. He could envision her visiting one such spring, her shoulders bare, her dress clinging to her form as she stood in the water so focused on unlocking the power that evaded her. That jittery feeling came back in full force.

Kill her… You’ll be in control again…

No, no… I must stay as far away from her as possible, lest the goddess’s prophecy comes true…

He wasn’t sure which one was Lord Ganon’s will. His trust in the Calamity had been so compromised he couldn’t discern Ganon’s or even fate’s design any longer. There was a part of him that wanted so much to remain faithful to Lord Ganon. He didn’t know how else to exist, even knowing that to remain loyal would end in regret for a prophecy unfulfilled and his own death.

The prophet held his head in his hands. He hastily disrobed, leaving his clothing in a haphazard pile, signaling his mental disarray. He got into the small spring, completely bare save for the circlet he wore with the Malice Eye. Many bruises from his earlier fight marred his pale skin.

Thoughts and feelings he might have easily shoved away before were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. No, it was downright impossible after the goddess’s parting words, and his thoughts of the princess were running wild. He could feel the distance between himself and the Calamity widen further, and he panicked.

He slid under the water’s surface, holding his breath as long as he could. If Hylia was merciful maybe he’d drown and in death, those vexing feelings would stop plaguing him. The urge to take a breath was increasing, and he came back up, gasping.

Astor relaxed a bit, resting his head on the edge of the spring and stretching out into a comfortable position in surrender, hoping this place was indeed illusionary and that no one would stumble upon him in such a state, not that travelers typically explored these woods for fear of becoming lost.

This place was so… otherworldly… so beautiful. Astor wondered briefly if Calamity Ganon could even ‘see’ or perceive this place.

And at last, he confronted the goddess’s prophecy with a clearer mind, although wavering between doubt and resent. How could it come true? He had acted with such cruelty toward Princess Zelda, why would she ever look at him with anything other than disdain?

Astor had once been very disciplined in his mindset towards the princess and his plan to bring about her demise, but he was out of reasons to fight what had been repressed. His thoughts of her lingered and then intensified. He yearned to embrace her, to touch her, and ached to feel her hands on him. He was paralyzed by the thought, but he couldn’t deny how exquisite it would be to give in to those feelings if the opportunity ever arose, despite knowing he would continue to resist out of fear of losing himself.

The desire to have her was increasing to a point of no return and Astor knew he would have no peace until he could, at the very least, see Princess Zelda again.

#Astor #Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity #Age of Calamity #HWAOC #Zelast #Vaguely a Valentine's Day chapter #I feel like I'm really stretching that T-rating #Hylia take the wheel

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matchamorphosis · 4 years

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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲

𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆. - 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐 + 𝒋𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒕

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Once Upon a Time in the shiny pearly gates of an elite residential community not long ago, lived our dear sweet [y/n] Beaudelaire. a revengeful Juliet, a woeful princess within the lavish parts of these aristocratic folk. what will happen when she meets again with her once Romeo now fiend in the lovely auspicious event of her graduation party? especially when she’s out for his head.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || alternate universe AU tutor//counselor!ari levinson × [black//woc]fem!reader + bryce langely × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || angst + smut

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 9.7K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || +18 nsfw, daddy!kink, student-tutor relationship, age gape: reader is twenty two and ari is thirty seven: don’t like, don’t read, dark elements, sexual past // intentions // flashbacks + mentions lose of virginity + future manipulation//blackmail + somewhat dark/upsetting content + alcohol mention + emotional denial

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || valley of the dolls by marina . teachers pet by melanie martinez . imagine by ariana grande

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 || romeo + juliet ☆ 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑒𝒹𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 ☆

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || hello my dearests! chapter two will come soon! ♡ anyways, enjoy reading cherubs!

THE BRONZE BELLS RING BACK AND FORTH FROM THE TOWER ABOVE, MARKING THE HOUR OF FIVE O’CLOCK.

shuffling of waitresses and waiters bustle as they seamlessly welcome, seat and serve the arriving guests as they begin to enter the dining room. not breaking or huffing a single sweat as they carry the trays of prepared dishes while ice buckets of champagne and brandy dance around the golden framed accommodation.

patrons young and old in fine silks and tailored stitches of embroidery situate themselves on the seats at the lengthen dining table. the seating arrangements that were made don’t crowd the banquet hall too much yet still very much wide that you only see eye level with the many persons right and left of you.

sharp smiles and provoking laughter, along with articulate chatter and conversations are not too loud yet not too quiet for anyone who had the nerve to add on nor the audacity to step in. devious hushed giggles and cruelly clever remarks still being heard, the affluent demons situate themselves comfortably before the grand feast.

entertained by the mulled wine and glorious halcyon strokes of the Rococo paintings that ordain the burgundy upper fortifications. soft classical music soaks through while they breath in the malodorous rich phlox air, sitting blissfully. a rays of candlelight chandeliers and the whimsically painted ceiling of the golden cumulus clouds pierced through almighty arch angels shine above their privileged heads. glimmering in the sunlight swimming the room as the servers begin re-pouring the sparkling alcohol in their half empty glasses.

being settled in the middle of the table, our dear sweet princess- sits tracing the outline of her wine glass with a single finger.

the slight high pitch hum sends her deep in the labyrinth of her thoughts as she internally chants to remind herself who she is. more so the individual figure she is manifesting, someone who will give her strength through this tear dropping moment.

though here she is, green as the frog prince tale her neglecting father read to her to sleep when she was a child- she couldn’t help but not shed the ugly ivy shade.

for only the scene in front of her would make dutiful damsels cry in their lace handkerchiefs and shining knights in silver armor woe in pity- it gave all the more reason to.

bare elbow resting on the table, it holds up her clenched fist. holding up her chin while she leans upset on forced straight shoulders. glossy nude lips pursed, sharp eyes puncture through the white cloth of the finely dressed table. once again restraining herself not to pout or let a sign of disgust crowd her face to make her emotions and thoughts obvious.

[y/n] [l/n] will prevail through this- well, until she starts to hear a giggle, and then a hushed whisper.

biting down on the inside of her cheek to ease the need of wanting to snap a snarky comment between the two individuals. for whom are speaking in front of her rather carelessly (for the fact that one of the which- his date or so you found out much earlier “fiancé” was excusable but it didn’t keep you from wanting to rip the woman’s tongue out) she simply rethinks her situation away from her prior knowledge and sit to a solid conclusion.

it seems as though you’ve been replaced

if it were possible, the tips of your ears tint up in a blistering crimson red as smoke curls, like a teapot screeching as the water was boiling over. although you don’t let that scream out nor the tears you’re keeping within. instead, slender brows arch and scrunch in their artful cynical manner.

your inflicting conscious attempts to cool down the bubbling boiling cauldron of vexes in the pit of your belly that you want to spite the man across. yet you’re unsure whether it’s because you feel like vomiting or because the scene in front of you is pushing a new level of internal disgust in yourself.

strange how you put yourself up with this in the first place is a whole heart mystery

listening in and out of your beloved friends conversations- centering around typical topics such as boys, books and bucks. [y/n] sits rather contemptible.

[y/n] doesn’t want to deal with the suffocating thick air of strained smiles, faux compliments, and forced giggles and chuckles.

all do nothing but rot her Dior perfumed presence the tragic princess is illed from this life.

facing too many cold greedy touches to her bare highlighted shoulders and too many fabricated comments twined with vicious sarcasm and shaded in fifty shades of irony. it was all too much to handle, even when their pockets were dripping in gold and bundles of cash it was all a façade. apprehending the reflection of pure hatred in the rich folks split red irises, it has all been seen and taken accounted of hundreds of nonchalant times.

all fail to make you shiver, all fail to make you resign

[y/n] doesn’t know how long she’s going to have to sit and look pretty, not for herself no but for an image.

all for the sake of her fashion designer mother, who urged her to have a gala for her high performance and decree. how can you say no to your own mother? even after all the vicious Hell she puts you through, she got you here. mistaking your own emotional withdrawal for strength at her cruel hands, she crafted her own perfect daughter.

one who showed no weakness, who gave no mercy

despite this, she feels herself crumbling

[y/n] doesn’t feel like talking or thinking about the silly and irrelevant ideals and prospects that don’t involve her sitting on his lap.

straddling the strong warmth of his thighs while your inner ones grind against his searing loins. wanting to act on the fine lines of either choking him or kissing him to death as your jeweled fingers play with the buttons of his expansive crisp white.

head full of toxic odium inflections you want to slash against the gentleman across it doesn’t mix right knowing you wish to be that women sitting next to him. the one who receives the cheeky whispers, who gets to feel his tongue when you two kiss.

instead, you ease the desire by taking a quick unnoticed swing of the moonshine in your silver flask. placing the vile thing back in your pearl Gucci clutch you grasp the item close to the ribs of your abdomen- quickly popping a mint in your mouth to mask the telling breath. keeping touch with your breathing, the shiny diamond ring on the woman’s finger almost made you choke the first time you saw it.

your heart nearly stopping dead in your chest when it sparkled and the hand that was twined with it was wrapped in another that also displayed the gold band. it threw you off completely and wrecked havoc on your heart and mind that you had to excuse yourself to cry in the bathroom.

now, your tears are nearly spent. the sight of dreaded thing only boils along with the other bittersweet things you find meaningless when it dealt with the gentlemen.

the gentlemen across the dinging table, that broke too much of your heart and took too many pieces.

[y/n] doesn’t want to look or hear the heart shattering display of affection that is proceeding right in front of her eyes.

knowing there was a certain unintentional catch to performing your celebrating gala you weren’t exactly sure what the decoy was. all until the deliberate provocative maneuvers were performed by the enemy himself.

that enemy, the gentlemen across from you, is puffing a thick Cuban cigar. not cowering against your bellicose gaze nor shudder of the battle cry that rings in the deep pools of your irises. he should know better not to play such a shrewd egocentric game when you’ve been playing it for years.

however the battlefield is empty, but you want war

you want it so bad it’s clouding your judgement, clouding every rational thought that brings you to reasonability.

if he wishes to avoid this matter let him be labeled as a wise coward. if he wishes to take you to battle then let him burn in the crossfire of his deserved loss

you’ve had the experience of driving your victims in circles- questioning themselves on their own apprehensions and relation predictions.

it was fun driving them over the lines of their morals and boundaries. it was even more fun to sit in the passengers seat as you insisted for them to not hit the breaks and for-long the steering wheel. telling them they had no worries as they drove over the cliffs edge. yet in the end they always hit the breaks and they always begged for you to forgive them for it.

no one had the will to do so, no one could satisfy your hunger

the deed at the moment- the childish yet very humorous game is more so a chore now if you were to admit. no longer a stringed merriment of imperious interest to drive your morphine high. on the other hand you aren’t going to ignore the piercing glance which soul purpose is to make you stare back.

the constant idyllic remarks that relentlessly grab your unwanted attention make him somewhat smirk as you notice it from the corner of you eye. the cocky grin almost willing you to shove that monarch title of yours in his face. slowly making him wish as you keeps his glare on you that you’d step off your throne and accuse him of revolt against the crown.

anything to make him hear your voice again

the finger of your right hand that was still tracing the wine glass halts as you grab the chalice within your clawed hold. tapping the glass slowly with your shimmery white acrylics, all you see is red.

red, red, blistering red

[y/n] Beaudelaire is furious

if anyone truly knew her they would notice that she is indeed too quiet. that the way she purses her lips is a comprehensible threat that friends, classmates, and acquaintances are regretfully familiar with.

cause they all know, that once [y/n] Beaudelaire is simmering with the acrimony of the Gods there will be vengeance to uphold. and sooner than later she will be redeemed, even if it means a dead body being buried or burned she will get away with it.

such wrathful repayment will have you second guessing your every daily decision, it will always come when you least expect it. although it will come (she sincerely promises) on a silver platter. polished and delivered by Karma herself that would make the War God Ares shiver and cower in fear and leave Athena in wonders on your foreshadowing strategies.

there are three golden rules you should know when you come across [y/n] Beaudelaire || never lie to her, never double-cross her, never get in her way

you would think these simple laws would be easy to understand, follow and obey on the account that they’ve been written like a syllabus within the minds of her subjects-

then you are sadly mistaken

there isn’t one event where an act of treason or mutiny were to be made against you, questioning your position of authority. you’ve known from the beginning that if you were constructing the building blocks of your kingdom a judicial system was to be constructed and laws were to be proclaimed.

even the rich have rules to follow in their own golden gate communities, you had your rules. it is no secret to everyone that the polished anarchy and shining throne that your seated on is built on the shameful secrets and corrupt deeds of your subjects. like a contract these vain money slicked cheats didn’t read the fine print.

the confidential information of the lieges were made as, somewhat clauses in contrary with whatever business you had to deal with or against them

everyone wished you the best of luck just as everyone wanted your throne, secretly wanting to burn you alive at the stake.

putting into perspective if they had burned you alive, taken the death enveloped in Holy fire nothing would change for their benefit. the anarchy, the high socially affluent class would crumple under new management. even the rich have rules to follow in their own golden gate communities, you had your rules.

the crown, throne and kingdom was all for you

not because it was a birth right passed down, but because the socially illusioned world created didn’t exist for you created a system that only you understood how to control.

you worked hard to have the social and financial suitors of both potential allies not just in your own state but from all around. from the Beverly Hills to the Upper East Side there are people watching over you. nobody wished to mess with you although they loved the idea of it, you knew of people that are even powerful than anyone in this room it was frightening.

teaching yourself to be socially assertive and wiser in making decisions whenever it came to making ties and bonds. a trait these close minded sheep in wolfs clothing couldn’t buy with their mommy's and daddy's plastic.

their silver spoon lives have been fed with opulent lies one mouthful at a time

the princess thinks, amusing herself she can’t help but smirk rather wickedly down at the light amber liquid in her crystal glass. it keeps her distracted from the brute man across, knowing exactly what’s conjuring in that pretty mind of yours.

coming off as innocent to the careless eye but if you knew [y/n] Beaudelaire nothing about the young lady is entirely innocent, at least not anymore. not as innocent as people loved and cherished, an element those poor simple fools took for fucking granted.

it could all have been ruined from the gentlemen in front of her, her cruel parents, fabricated friends and crushed dreams. but she used to remember herself as the sweet heartfelt cherub that’s casted into the thundering storm. a storm she cannot escape from, how can someone escape from the troubles of their own mind?

sure she was naïve then, oblivious of the ways of the affluent world around her. so uncertain and troubled, always so quiet with her nose in a book and always first to raise her hand when her teachers asked a question. a stuttering mess whenever a handsome boy would speak to her, even when it was but the simplest things.

she remembers those days. when she wouldn’t let herself be seen out without satin hair ribbons that matched her plaid skirts, blazers and stockings. simple trademarks being her black glossy heeled flats, powdered sugar bubblegum, lip-smacking strawberry chapstick, and the tender playfulness of her blooming body.

[y/n] Beaudelaire used to be pure- or whatever fucked up term that would describe a girl with no social experience.

now she’s considered an enigma. as many of her classmates and peers believe- a mystery, a paradox.

she was loyal, yet somewhat detached. platonic yet sensual, heartwarming yet tear wrenching. no one truly knows or understands her, nor wishes to. maybe the gentlemen some time ago wished but not anymore, the princess deems.

the elegant dining hall that accompanies the Beaudelaire family fitted fifty five guests. all from her graduating class, extended family, business affiliates and close courtiers bustled with energy as the food is beginning to be served.

conversations ending and picking up quickly in between mouthfuls of buttered bread rolls and sips of ancient wine. the steaming rotisserie chickens and roasted lamb shoulders sit on plates of roasted vegetables next to the multiple wooden baskets of rolls. ivory bowls of rice pea soup and dishes of white and red sauced pastas are placed in commendation with trays of salads in front of each sitting guests.

looking down at the ivory china, the pea soup was the last possible thing [y/n] wanted to consume and the flirtatious comments that were happening in front of her only added to the fire that was tearing inside of her.

thinking otherwise, he was getting back at her from her actions earlier, he was equally as jealous as her

[y/n] looks outside through the tall glass apertures, streaming in golden light the crowd of conversations and chatter going to the back of her mind. to help her recollect upon the events that happened earlier that day.

it’s a sunny breezy June day for the graduating class of Bradford for they had just arrived at the Osborne manor for lunch from the gardens of the Beaudelaire estate. considering it is the first week of summer break, long until she and her classmates are back to their books starting their third year of university.

they’ve decided instead of staying inside the fine Beaudelaire music room rehearsing their song for Madame Hautecourts (Bradfords founder) arrival next week, they’d rather spent it on the Beaudelaire estate.

surrounded by blooming flower beds, marble fountains and ivory statues. remotely unattended from any pressure bearing adults, it was heaven. enjoying the sound of buzzing bees and humming hummingbirds and the sight of elegant doves bathing in the birdbaths, their senior year was finally over and they were finally done with their studies.

the rich white teethed teens drank fizzy bourbon sodas, smoked cigars and played cards as a celebration. smiled with nefarious charm as they told, listened and laughed along detention stories and parent-teacher mishaps that have happened throughout their high school years.

it was their right to enjoy their summer break as shameless young adults committing prohibited acts. they were legal enough to break the law, but wealthy enough to get away with it

a golden ethereal moment [y/n] relished, yet couldn’t help but feel the peering stare of someone on her.

in shock she met the eyes of a figure that was staring down at her on the second story balcony of the mansion. immediately upon seeing the heavenly cerulean blue of his fierce glare caught her off guard completely, for she has never set sight of them in person in forever.

unaware from his return over seas all together she surely did not invite the man yet here he stands. head up looking down on you with those ocean hues as if disappointed with the clutch of moonshine in your grasps and the lips of a drunk boy at your neck.

ignoring the large group of adults chatting upon the carved ivory balcony. talking with champagne flutes in hand while cigarettes sit fuming in between their dazzling ring fingers, not caring for their children below as they commit their sins.

the gentlemen’s- Ari Levinson’s sharp glare was still present and it viscously dripped in distain. maybe baring the same shock you were feeling- that someone had their hands and lips on his property. knowing that tell, he did indeed notice you’re holding onto this boys hand that he will later find out is your boyfriend, Bryce Langely.

yes, the older man heard it right from your mothers lips - boyfriend.

it was a little bit, a morsel of karma that you unraveled against him. having gotten over Ari, your traitor of a Romeo you now savor in the violent delights of being a woeful Juliet. even when you sometimes feared over your newly found beau, you would overshadowed that creeping chill to spite that man who shattered your heart.

it came with its heartbreaking disadvantages but had abundances of limitless sinful privileges. obtaining a title that doesn’t include you ruining someone's will to live or playing a mind-fuck emotional waste game surely was your guilty pleasure.

granting all this, we all have learned from past mistakes- from past tragedies- that these violent delights that taste so virtuously divine, have their merciless violent ends.

this night will have its violent end and your wicked gaze told it all as it cascaded with Ari’s. so revengeful it was saddening, he thought as he exhaled the cloud of cigar smoke. feeling his fist tighten when the school boy of a boyfriend slipped his skinny fingers under the white satin of your slip dress. the beating in his chest increasing when you smirked, bite your lips on not the bastard but him.

breaking the stare wanting not to stare back, she straightens herself under the sun rays trying not to let him spoil the mood. instead of averting your eyes to the older man, you hold Bryce's bicep; lying your head on his shoulder.

the icy glare Ari returns was enough for you to wonder, were you going to regret doing this?

you’ve broken a vow, but that thought makes you bite your tongue hard in this falsehood. he broke his first, he promised he’d never leave you and he did. the pain its just as bad as you feel the metallic taste in your mouth.

I don’t belong to him, not anymore.

glancing your attention back up to the floral balcony you see that your Romeo has disappeared and serves him right. but where are you the audience touching up on this elicit affair?

well, ladies and gentlemen, let us start from the beginning...

it all started with a kiss.

a magical night that was the grand premier of [y/n’s] latest play, Romeo and Juliet.

you were the leading actress playing Shakespeare's unfortunate Juliet. the prima donna of the stage, the blazing star in everyone’s hearts that snowy February night.

[y/n] was nineteen, open to the ways of the world and at the time your Romeo was a much older man. but in the heat of the moment-

when the dazzling stage lights shone down on her and the audience cheered in a standing ovation as the single roses and bundles of baby breaths were thrown at her feet. as you took your bow, the chorus of the angels above song for the romantic tragedy of a teenage tale to be your reality.

seeing your Romeo, your Ari, grinning proudly from the side lines throwing a red rose at the hem of your gown - your heart pounded in this truth/

the romantically tragic tale was surely real when he snuck into her dressing room.

a bouquet of red roses in his hands asking her if she would like to take a stroll with him. when their eyes danced and fingers laced within each other as they walked towards the candlelit park. covering her with his own black trench coat over her revealing costume when the cold winds of January seared their cheeks. their lips met each other under a streetlamp as snow began to powder above them.

that kiss was the tipping domino that shattered their flirty student-tutor relationship into a secret scandalous affair. the visits between them only began after that, both Ari and [y/n] always either announced a date with a letter informing them or a surprise visit.

one of her favorite surprises, especially when it came to Ari- has been engraved in her memories for eons to come.

maybe it wasn’t as sweet and virtuous as [y/n] Beaudelaire dreamed of and remembered, but how can it not be when she felt like she was in heaven.

how could something be sin when it feels holy at the first touch?

it might be the endeavor of the Devil cause she still feels the temptation of his large warm hands. groping and grasping the powder blue lace of her nightie that wrapped the smooth skin of her waist on that warm pink honeysuckle June night.

a naughty moan erupted from her and a deep groan against him. [y/n] could taste the bitterly addicting taste of honeyed whiskey on his dazzling smile and couldn’t help at all but to pull onto his loose velvet tie. shamelessly whining and urging him to come closer as she unbuttoned his shirt, roaming her hands on his sculptured muscled chest.

reality has withered into a forgotten thought for dear sweet [y/n] Beaudelaire. although they both know an important figure as Mr. Levinson shouldn’t have been in her room. let alone cup the petal soft cheeks of [y/n] Beaudelaire as he kissed her harder, dancing his tongue with hers.

desire, desire, desire...

how she had desired - longed to feel his strong arms around her waist, his satin locks through her fingers, his muscled golden skinned everything against her. a thought struck her - what if her father and mother were to walk in any second?

both home early from their business trips? simple, all hell would break loose- figuratively and literally, although how could this not make her swoon more.

the danger and chaos incited the princess, she felt like a precious Juliet.

yet [y/n] couldn’t stop at the threat, couldn’t help the mesmerizing feeling of her plump warm lips against his sweet tasting ones. how he was her first kiss conflicted with the older man, it seemed she had much more experience than she was letting on.

danger and pleasure mix well, especially when Ari Levinson was pumping his throbbing hard cock into the tight virgin hole of [y/n] Beaudelaire. gripping the religious brooch of his golden chain in the palm of her hand, he continued to pump deep in and out of her. symphonies of moans and sighs adorned their blissful bubble waiting and urging to be popped.

whispering praises and soothing the dear girl as hot tears streamed from her eyes. kissing her temple telling her how well she did and how he loved her.

all while the droplets of blood curled with the puddle of nectar underneath their locked connection, soaking her rumpled Egyptian cotton sheets. his tempered hands gently caressed the curves of her summer ripe body, sucking her rose budded breasts and licking her honey slicked core.

the magical spell that she was under, the thrilling sin enfolding as he held the key to her own wrecking. how it felt so fucking goddamn right to straddle his lap and allow him to leave the dark cherry wine lovebites on her neck. ravishing in the sinfully divine reflections in his eyes, she flourished on their next encounter.

being this an unvarnished truth, it wasn’t just a kiss as you all know now. but the intensity, the pure desire radiating them both that full moon night as they ‘made love’ questioned dear [y/n] Beaudelaire whether or not it was an event she would regret for the rest of her days.

conflicts her presently as she stares down on her food, not allowing the elements of the present to interfere to connect to that corrupt heaven.

“promise me you’ll never forget this, forget me,” out of breath, you shushed in his ear and he stopped sucking the skin of her collarbones and gripping her rear entirely.

angling his face to meet hers, he examines his artwork- her ruby lips now pouty, being overworked from crashing his lips to hers. the blooming hickies covering her neck, collarbones, and breasts like springtime poppies.

the sweaty bare sunkissed skin of her naked body underneath him and her leaking honey cascading with his salty brim coats both their inner thighs is nothing but aerial piety.

noting the tears that glazed your eyes- the dear girl has never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable to heartbreak in her life. two droplet streams slip from her eyes and Ari’s heart weeps.

his precious princess being teary eyed will not do, not if he could help it.

lifting her on his lap, he raises his warm hands to cup her cheeks. wiping the tears with his thumbs, erasing their short lived existence before softly pressing his lips to hers. keeping his hands in place as she grips the silky hair that drops onto the back of his neck.

“how could I ever forget you? my angel, you are purely unforgettable. never ever forget it,” he hushes as he glides his thumb against her lips and onto her cheekbone.

he releases one hand to dig into his trouser pockets and reveals a shimmering piece that sparkles and shines in the moonlight, a heart locket. “when you wear this, i’ll know that your heart belongs to me. that I am worthy to have a place in your heart.” he glides his fingers around her throat, moving her hair to the side as he clicks the gold in place.

looking down on the locket, her fingers wrapping it close. “even without this pendent, my heart will always belong to you.”

beaming at the sight of you in his gift his heart is off to the races. you belong amongst the lavish pearl, blush pink and fanciful moonshine strokes of Lawrence Alma-Tadema’s signature paintings. the posh gold necklace rests securely around your lower neck and the promising pendant tips a luscious glossy glow upon her breasts.

she truly is art, to be seen and adored by everyone but only touched and worshiped by him/

“tell me daddy, please tell me i’m yours,” you sighed heavily, bust along with the locket lifting against Ari’s chest as you move her face even closer to his.

“no doll, daddy’s yours.” her giggle, a classical melody to his ears as she kisses him again sweetly.

he returns more passionately but stops immediately for the ding dong of the old grandfather clock announces the twelfth hour of the night, surprising as well as startling the girl. “it’s getting late, I can’t stay for long.” he quietly hushes, his voice slightly raspy causing [y/n’s] inner demons lustfully scream but she pouts and carps.

he’s leaving so soon, always so soon.

“don’t frown, pretty girl. we had to stop at some point.” he smirks as he picks up his shirt from the floor, buttoning it up swiftly.

getting up from your bed to find his belt from under it, he walks by the blue lace he stripped you of much earlier in the night. fitting the leather with his belt loops he zips up his pants, looking to the small table aside your bed he see’s his tie missing among your things.

judging from the small giggle that escapes your cheeky smirk he turns to you and opens an outreached hand. the tie as he predicted is in your hands, yet you keep it clenched against your chest looking at him as if you aren’t keeping anything from him.

though with the raise of an eyebrow and the other hand of his that softly yet firmly grabbing your jaw makes you question yourself if this trickery was a good idea, “It isn’t kind to take daddy's things, princess,”

the comment leaves your smirk dropping and a pout to form.

Ari always kills your teasing games with gentle kindness, always had the patience for your devious fairy like temper. his authorized stance was a killjoy but he held the discipline you lacked that helped balance your relationship.

rolling your eyes you give him his tie, which he takes after giving a subtle kiss to your knuckles. “good girl,” your core clenches at those words.

Ari has the right mixture of dominance and softness that made the cocoons in your stomach break free. the fluttering butterflies of lust flying to your heart and heading down to soak your already sore core.

hungry hands wander his muscled body, feeling and drinking everything in. playful eyes saunter down and lock on the front gaping tent of his pants. catching were your eyes lock on Ari smirks to himself, his dirty little girl.

he knows exactly what you’re thinking, purely naughty you are.

“my eyes are up here, angel,” and with that remark your eyes snap to his eager blue and you feel your face heating up.

the delicious ache between your legs from the previous adrenaline filled thrusts and pumps of Ari’s hips smashing into yours is like a VCR tape on repeat in your mind. leaving you bashfully smiling and shivering in cordial delight as you feel his white syrup drip from your puffy crux.

biting your bottom lip, however you aren’t at all shy to sit up over your plush pink comforter and grab his shirt needily. averting his eyes on you as you cup his bearded cheek. your eyes turn to wet glass and Ari is scared you might shatter into tears again, but your angelic smile makes him think otherwise and your holy wicked giggles do most for his growing erection.

the very things you do to him, he will never be able to explain in words.

“promise i’ll see you again, Ari. promise me we’ll have more nights like this,” lips ghosting over his purposely.

those same wandering hands slide over his chest slowly, working down exploring the front of his pants. rubbing the tent with rapacious fingertips he moans under your touch. if this feeling of intimacy was a type of bait they’re both now hooked.

“undoubtedly princess,” he keenly moans as he leans into your spit slicked lips yet you pull away giggling. “oh no, you don’t.” he suddenly grabs your waist and lifts you up from the cream sheets of your four poster bed. carrying you bridal style as he twirls you around your pale pink bedroom.

wrapping your arms around his neck you burst into a fit of hushed giggles, Ari smiles to himself.

such a darling princess, he thinks again, his darling princess

setting her back down on her bed he tucks her in and pecks her nose, caressing her lovebiten gold lace adorned neck. “my dove, i’ll see you tomorrow. for now is best you sleep.” he whispers breath warm against your lips he pulls away. turning his body to reach the secret doorway until-

“must you go? please stay, please,” you sit up, holding his face in your hands as he looks down at you.

tinges of sadness and tones of sleepiness shade deep in your eyes and Ari feels his heartstrings vibrating. how could he even think of letting you sleep alone? wouldn’t be a justified thing for him to take your purity, make love to you and leave you bare and cold all alone.

eyes shined bright as you looked up at him, so sweet and angelic and waiting for his response. he was unsure, of course his heart sang that he wanted to stay. yet questioned himself as to why he let himself corrupt your angel kin, why he allowed himself to fall in love with you. dreamt every night for you to warm the empty cold spot on his bed.

dreamt of making you his.

the killing absence is a tell.

Ari wants to stay, oh how he wants to stay.

although he is scared, terrified- that once he lays on your bed with the comfort of your warm sleeping body against his, he won’t ever be able leave.

terrified that all conscious awareness of knowing this love is forbidden will be erased cause he won’t care. as long as he feels your heart beat against his when he shuts his eyelids. terrified that this may be all a dream and he’ll wake up in his bed alone with you not by his side.

you can notice the troubling hesitation, even when his eyes are on you his mind is somewhere else. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down on you until his clothed body is pressed softly against your bare one. until your eyelashes flutter against each other, until your lips feel each others breath.

“please, stay,” your whisper soft and airy, your face as well as the pendent ravishing in complete beauty and elegance.

you are truly his, and he will never let you go

with that he doesn’t answer because he’s taking off his clothes again till he is bare and vulnerable just like you. picking up your sheets he slips next to you. “come, my dove,” he hushes and you shuffle against the sheets to lay on him.

each of your legs on the opposite of his sides, your naked breasts pressed against his warm lifting chest. damp face still parallel to his he sees a tear leak from your eye and hear a small sniffle.

“what’s wrong?” hand at the back of your neck he pulls you closer.

“w-what happens if they find out about us? what happens i-if they tear us apart?” whimpering your voice breaks in between sobs.

Ari cups your cheeks while he shakes his head, as if what your saying is impossible and hopeless. both you star-crossed lovers should know-

by the fate of the tragic stars above was this night destined to come.

“never. never would they be able to tear me away from you. [y/n] look at me, I would never let that happen,” his whispered voice euphoric as he holds the sides of your face.

hushed sobs escaped your mouth, Ari wipes your tears with his rough palms. hugging you close until you calm down and your small hiccups can be heard. a small smile begins to unfold between the two of you and Ari folds a piece of your hair behind your ear.

you’re so beautiful when your bare and on top of him, it’s almost godly.

starry face, body and soul is just begging to be worshiped, he does worship you. “even if they try and succeed, they would be at a loss. For my heart would still belong to you, forever and always.” by that, your lips stretch in a tragic smile.

“forever and always,” you sigh as your lips meet his in a wistful kiss.

lips passionate against yours, hands in his wild hair and legs intertwined you both fall in the black hole of desire again. both of you know that this was destined to happen, that they was no way to avoid or prevent this.

your heart his and his heart yours, both eternal and forever blooming.

when you two are finally spent and sore in the most wonderful of ways, you lie on your sides. facing each other by enjoying each others presence, tracing and retaining every freckle, scar and birthmark with caressing fingertips. grabbing the red lace ribbon that was initially in your hair, you tie it around Ari’s wrist.

tired eyes going dreamy, he lays to his side smiling and watching as you wrap and finish the lace with a bow.

“it isn’t much, but if- on the account, that they do tear us apart. please know that I will wait for you. always.” hushing, your bodies glow in the loves rays of the pale lavender moonlight present.

pulling you to his chest, your face finds the crook of his neck and breath in his natural scent. “and I to you,” he says kissing the top of your hair, wrapping his arms guarding you in the most comforting way.

“Goodnight good night, my Romeo,”

parting is such sweet sorrow -

“Goodnight good night, my Juliet,”

that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

you remember after the night was more love and happiness you don’t know you could ever feel. in your opinion that morning the following day was like a perfect reverie.

Ari and you were woken up from their lovesick slumber by the sing song of the morning birds and the vivid yellow sun rays. giggled and admired the memory of last night as he pressed butterfly kisses over your hipbones and belly.

wearing nothing but Ari’s cream button up and him in his briefs they had a French breakfast out on the brick terrace barefoot surrounded by Persian buttercups and marigolds.

afterwords they took a bubble wash in her clawfoot bathtub and put on some clothes, smelling fresh of rose water and milky dove soap. walking down the staircase as he had to leave, you kissed him goodbye but he reassured you that he will be back that same night to see you again.

however with unfortunate timing, your parents returned that afternoon from their separate business trips. with greater outcomes than they both have expected, news of their return and latest success most likely cautioned Ari. he is one of her father’s most close old friends and obvious of his return he did not come to the celebrating lunch that same day which dishearten [y/n] but she knew that he would come around.

and he did, time and time again through the end of your first year of college and following into the middle your second year. that is, until he stopped and disappeared from her completely when the summer season went by.

the day you thought would be a nice idea to stop by the private elite college to see Ari. you were surprised to find that everything in his office to find everything of his gone except a letter on the desk with your name on it. you’ve examined the empty room around you, the framed degrees on the wall and boxes of filing papers vanished.

the office clerk had informed you that he was here when you arrived, seeming to suspicious you told her that you were meeting him for ‘counseling purposes’.

now siting in his chair by his desk you opened the letter with shaky hands, prepared yourself to either be completely devastated or perplexed. slipping the letter out and forced yourself to take a deep breath as you focus on the cursive black ink.

My Dearest Dove,

I beg hat you won’t be disappointed. won’t be mad or even put this on yourself, it kills me to see you cry.

I didn’t have the heart to tell you this sooner and with that I dread itself though I will be back in a couple of months.

Know that the sun will blaze and the moon will shine and the planets will orbit into oblivion.

For my love for you was gifted by the stars and with that I beg of you to do the most and wait.

it was soiled with a teardrop as you finished reading the last words. the letter left a sore pain in her heart that was laced with amorous longing. leaving his office with the letter in hand, salty melancholy tears on your tongue and a prolonging ballad hum in your tender voice.

you didn’t blame him for taking a job opportunity over seas as you later found out but it hurt knowing he didn’t tell you of this earlier. so you did what he asked you to do, to wait for him.

the lovely burning hours of wasting through your summer retreat daydreaming of your runaway Romeo to return turned into days. then with greatest unfortune days into weeks, and weeks into months till now it has been a solid year without a single phone call, letter, or personal appearance.

until now that he sits across from you.

the sheer heart shattering thought rattled in her mind that last summer day and with that tears threaten to glaze and drop from her mascara lashes at this moment.

our princess, our Juliet already accepted that it was an incident…

incident be damned.

the man is no ordinary man but a public figure. Mr. Levinson could not risk his professional career to a scandal. thinking you probably weren’t worth the risk in his eyes, you’re blinded by the truth of how utterly wrong you are.

everyone knows that he has worked and had an extensive history with the justice department in the earlier years of his life. eventually in some time in his life settled as a criminal behavioral specialist teaching a division of B.A.U students at Harvard.

when people young and old see him, they see a hardworking risk-taking man who risked his life for our country and to help many others in need. on the other hand when girls [y/n] age see him they see dollar signs, because of course the man had the opportunity to retire, but saw fit that the rank of superior director of future agents would be a better use of his time.

for just that fact alone is the true reason for his previous failed marriage, how and why it came to an end. Hell even you knew that he was divorced, you would see and notice the picture frames of a little girl that was always placed on his desk. whenever you tried to say or ask anything about it he always changed the topic, seeming empty and broken. you knew that the little girl was Ari’s daughter, you just didn’t want to push the subject but he would soon open up to you later on.

part time however, Mr. Levinson was an advocate as well as counselor for Ivy Leagues. the very first the two of you met was the day he was gathering and advising students for college preparatory programs and collecting college applications.

when you stepped inside the counselors office, and took a deep inhale of the incense soaking the air. the soft eye contact he given as you chanted about your aspirations and ambitions. the way he held your hand when you started to speak on your mental and social troubles. telling you that you were safe to speak your mind on any topic.

once you left his office that day, you felt the singing sensation of wanting to see him again. memorize his face so its like an oracle for your mind to fantasize, remember his smooth voice till you can hear it in your dreams. an unforeseen crush was formed and with that you started finding new ways of seeing him, which meant more visits to the counselor office.

you wanted to talk to him more, speaking on topics that didn’t revolve around your sweet cynical ordeals but for but for him to get a taste of your sweet cynical- well you get the picture.

you wanted to get to him to touch you. so shy touching your hand and shoulder from time to time realizing he was getting much more comfortable around you then what was appropriate for him as a counselor.

you wanted to get him to kiss you. during that prophetical freshman year of university when the Shakespearean performance commenced you did get that kiss.

if you were being truly honest with yourself, you don’t at all regret it.

you truly don’t.

he was your counselor, he was somewhat of a tutor at times but it wasn’t at all professional when they had been continuously flirting and teasing each other. an affair fueled on both sides as you two tried on riling the other person up until they had no clue what happened when your hands found each others.

it was nerve racking trying to convince yourself that you were just using him so he’ll pull some strings to get you an even closer advantage into Harvard than you already had.

Ari knew [y/n] was younger- but the intelligence, sophistication, and charm that you were gifted he couldn’t help but fall head over heels.

it was wrong, a disgusting thing to do he thought and thought. but with your consent and the love you gave back to him made those thoughts stop. he was under loves heavy burden and oh did he sink stepping forth into your siren like song.

Mr. Levinson was never a man to settle when he could do so much more, even when the man was ensured with millions of dollars the government owned him in his missions adding onto his current affluent job the man was indeed wealthy.

you’d have to be in order to be around such prosperous bluebloods, where old money and power come hand in hand. these upper class folk think they rule the world and by him being a respected figure, people laid countless loyalties to him.

it isn’t fucking fair.

how could he still sit there, thinking he helped you when he took the sharpened sword of your trust and loyalty to only just stab you with it. through your already browbeaten and broken heart you gave with shaking hands and pitiful eyes.

where you carried the broken pieces of her heart where ever you went, like a pathetic souvenir of some sort that you bragged for some reason. you were and are so emotionless, so deprived of such that you mistaken it as strength. so desperate that Ari Levinson himself helped stitch and glued back together.

all that to just shatter it within his grasp, letting the ambrosial blood gush on his hands and wipe it all over your fucking face.

so rather then turning into the broken clueless little girl you outgrew, you instead picked up the bleeding smithereens and put them together yourself. with the will of an iron fist the burning sensation of your blood, sweat and tears you forced yourself up. swearing you will never fall to a defeat like this again.

yet this won’t excuse your thoughts, you swore that you will only exchange the same treatment back to him when the opportunity occurred.

and now is the perfect time, as he sits at your will to find and make amends.

a spiraling storm begins to unravel within the mind of [y/n] Beaudeliare, she will not be silenced from her treacherous heartache. she will see to it that she will have that man begging on his knees for forgiveness, and maybe set him on fire if it suits her liking.

snapping out of her day dream [y/n] couldn’t help but not sneak a quick look at him, I mean he is across the table.

peering from the setting sun she looks to him and she wishes she hasn’t. the face she fantasizes of at night yet curses in her daydreams holds the apple of her eye and she feels Cupids skilled golden arrow rip through your heart once again.

soft toffee hair parts on top his shoulder blades, dark sultry beard slightly trimmed going in stark contrast against his white pressed dress shirt. wondering eyes lingered onto his wrinkle free collar to see the three top buttons loose revealing his golden Star of David chain and a trail of dark chest hair.

the woman next to him was indeed beautiful and held more mature features than her. if anyone were to see these two sitting together they’d assume they were together but think twice to see that the man is Ari Levinson and he is already married to his job then be shocked again when they find he’s engaged. you believe the woman's name is Miss. - soon to be Mrs - Liz Earl, but dismiss it every time she introduces herself.

asking her to repeat her name saying it always slips your mind, pretending she didn’t exist when she tried to speak to you. thus on the account of you responding you tried to make her question whether or not you liked or despised her.

it wasn’t right at all to be this petty and you know it. you aren’t acting like yourself by taking your pain and convicting it on the poor women. although you can’t deny the connection she has with Ari that makes your blood pound with resentment. you especially cannot deny that you haven’t seen him wrap his arm around her waist or chuckle along to whatever she had to say or kiss her while they lit their thick cigars. with that you rolled your eyes at your sincerity even though you were wrong doing so.

Ari would catch you within his actions and your vicious feedback. he wasn’t blind to your raging sorrow and he wasn’t petty enough to actually comment back at you or play in the game you were initiating.

but he hates to see you this way

is he the only one who sees the tears in your eyes? the falseness in your smile and remarks? the ache in the way you try so hard to present yourself that everyone seems to fall for? what is he suppose to do?

Ari can’t exactly grab your face and kiss you for the whole world to see but he wants to, he can’t avoid you any longer. desperately trying so hard to move on, even now that another women is holding his hand and kissing him he still personally wishes it was you. longing to see you again from the very beginning of his voyage he sees you now, heartbroken and patience gone to waste.

the very last thing he wanted for you, a deed he should have never put on you. even though you hate his existence, Ari wishes for you to simply look at him.

not look at him behind his back or when he didn’t know you were staring, he wants to meet your irises to his. you’ve been driving him in circles as you planned, all he wants is to hear you sweet voice yet he can’t get over your arrogance.

your self righteousness that made him fall for you in the first place

on the other hand, his presence was enough to make you shift and either burst into a mess of tears or throw a fucking bitch fit. although you will not show any sign of torment, not a single weak manifestation. especially not for the man that treated someone of your worth as a shameful sin when he worshiped you behind closed doors.

“Miss. Beaudelaire,” a deep voice rang and you turned your head to the mayor sitting on the right of your father.

“it’s wonderful to hear that you’ve been doing so well in your classes. the Beaudelaire residency endures their traditional status.” Mr. Waldeyer Hartz exclaims, peering at you from across the long table which catches everyone’s ears.

a gleaming smile is revealed and you pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, they will be in for a surprise.

[y/n] can’t help but enjoy the attention, she hasn’t worked years of college hell as President of the Student Body and claimed Valedictorian while crushing any competition to not enjoy time in the spotlight.

from the corner of her eye she catches Ari clapping, bringing a chorus of clapping from all others. the gesture leaves you bashfully smile and when your eyes meet his the beat of your heart flutters in that dear nostalgic way.

a strong proud smile displayed on his face that lights up his eyes in some magical way. the lovely gesture only you got to see, cause it is only meant for you and only you.

though that divine thought once warm and sensational leaves you empty and cold. you aren’t the women in his life no more, thinking again you weren’t even his to begin with.

how can someone be loved and be claimed as such when they are buried like a dirty shameful secret?

you’ve grown up at the receiving end of heartbreak. whether it’s the cruel torment you’ve received from your classmates from your early school years. your parents toxic high expectations and standards they whipped you up to fulfill. to simply feeling broken when you keep disappointing yourself realizing you haven't gotten over your treacherous Romeo.

your Ari.

it’s too late to head back now.

you’ve put to time, effort and power into getting yourself here. it will not be shot down for a cry of remorse and validation. you will never put yourself forth in that again.

“actually, Mr. Hartz. there have been some alterations.” you say, chest empty and heart cold.

“you say? do tell!” Mr. Hartz cheers, while the guests peer their eyes on you from the sudden attention.

“i’m not attending Harvard anymore for my last year. in fact i’m transferring to Princeton, right father,” you say and your father smiles at you nodding his head.

“those individual service programs and essays did work well in the end, and not to mention Mr. Levinson’s considerate word and recommendation letters. it was quite simple to please the Princeton officials,” you smile, teeth gleaming and eyes bright.

“you hear that Levinson! your star pupil will be competing against you in the big leagues now!” Mr. Hartz exclaims, cackling and erupting in boisterous laughter along with her father and a couple other of his close friends.

she doesn’t even spare Ari a glance but she imagines the rage and offence on his confused face. unsure as to what happened but he traces back to the hours and hours of you and him together-

were you merely just using him?

the gentlemen's clapping stops and he looks at you again. you’re completely ravishing as the cheers continue and you start making your mini speech but its all hazy in the back of his mind.

is this some sort of back biting trap you set out for him to fall for or has he been clueless this whole time thinking you really felt for him?

he may have left you, but it was for your own good

how could he stay by your side just to ruin your life knowing that the love you two share will never be accepted? how could he have stayed when the love he feels for you tears at his heart? knowing he can never truly have you?

breaking his vows and promises to you of course, but if this all was a sort of plan of yours. so, has he done the right thing at all for leaving you?

yes and no. its all so complicated even when the answer is in front him, drinking her strawberry rose from her crystal glass.

he still loves you, if it was possible its a galaxy stronger than before. its ripping his lungs and heartstrings wanting to know- urging to know if you feel the same.

“an Ivy League image is to be bestowed upon you young lady. keep up the good work and don’t disappoint us.” your father says and you wince, knowing it isn’t as sweet as he spoke.

with that everyone goes back to their own silly privileged conversations as the dessert course starts to be served.

the smell of chocolate, fresh strawberries and lemony puffed pastry fills the room. plates of powdered berry oven cakes come in varies colors and sizes. trays of dark chocolate covered strawberries and white chocolate red velvet croissants replace the empty dinner dishes.

“oh, [y/n] you have met up with my grandson have you?” Ogden Osborne, the principle of Bradford adds nonchalantly.

sipping from his wine glass gesturing to the shiny blond young man no more than a seat away from her. “he just so happened to transfer for Princeton himself and I believe you will both have some classes together. am I right Bryce, my boy!” he chuckles and the young man laughs lightly giving her a flirty smile.

as if on que, Maya Langely - who has been siting to your left excuses herself from the table to chat with Finn Earl who you recently found out is Liz Earl's son. switching seats with Bryce Langely, you find yourself staring face to face with the shiny blond with the bottled green eyes.

“hello [y/n/n]. it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Bryce smiles fondly, a bit too sweet as he reveals his wolfish smile. sitting closer to you, gibing you a rather tight hug yet his hands slip under the table to grip your ass roughly.

the eyes of her father and mother and Mr. Osborne don’t notice this yet Ari grits his teeth in a seething sneer.

Ari knows boys like these, he knows they treat everything of the opposite sex as a chess piece. a challenge in their selfish and heartless games. does his Juliet know Bryce flirts with everything with a beating pulse while she isn’t around?

apparently not. little naïve [y/n] kissed her devious demon for a boyfriend after settling in the dining room when Ari himself stumbled upon hearing her blond beau. hidden away in a coat closet making out between some girls legs as he went to find a room to smoke in.

“it has, hasn’t it? a whole year! it’s your fault you’ve moved away and haven’t kept in contact with me!” you joke and he laughs and gleams that boyish smile that makes all the schoolgirls blush, gripping your ass tighter.

[y/n] and Bryce always play this game, pretending to not know each other. though they were childhood best friends they’ve grown apart due to well, growing out of each other. realizing they had different likes and interests as all childhood friends do.

even throughout high school they both never associated with each other, they weren’t within the same social circles and they sure didn’t have the same friends. with this you’d imagine they never get along yet with two horny and danger seeking teenagers anything is possible.

you won’t ignore the sexual eagerness in his eyes that is overlooked by plenty but you don’t care for him. you do not care for Bryce because your legs lift from underneath the table to slip under Ari’s one pants leg.

caressing the leg with the front of your ivory Prada heels making Ari’s gaze shoot to you when he was in midst conversation with Liz. staring at the dessert options you don’t return the stare but continue with your footwork.

guests begin to grab what desserts catch their eyes and you place a mini raspberry dome cake on your plate. cutting your fork into the lemon cake and taking it into your mouth, the whipped cream and raspberry jam covers your lips. licking them coyly, Ari’s stare is nothing but punishing.

it brings you back to all the times you purposely acted up to just have his attention. always succeeded you did as he would whisper dirty things in your ears about what he was going to do once the two of you were alone. at this moment you’re proud to know it still works like a charm once you feel his warm hand clenching your ankle.

ignoring the warning glare you chat with Bryce, joking and teasing the rest of dessert despite your fear of him creeping up your spine. occasionally, just to piss Ari off- you’d whisper and giggle sweet nothings in Bryce's ear whilst caressing your bare foot against your suffering Romeos hardening manhood.

leaving both you and Bryce smiley and giggly like schoolchildren and Ari sexually affronted trying desperately to hold in a moan.

smirking, feeling accomplished when Ari starts to sweat and hide the growing pleasure from the woman next to him. she asks if he feels alright, Ari’s respond is short of nothing but murmurs and a grunt while he shifts in his seat. keeping the small sly smile, you remove your foot all together to just place it back, rubbing his now solid cock. dipping a single finger in the cakes syrupy sweetness of jam and cream, taking your coated finger you take it in your mouth.

[y/n] could feel the burning eyes of Ari against her but you pull out your signature doe eyes. letting a slight pout come into the equation, Ari feels his heart melt and he wants to yank your foot when you start rubbing harder. maybe steal you away, pull you close in the dark corner of a secluded empty room and return the teasing favor.

wanting to do so he can’t even shift, your motions building up inside him he feels like he’s going to bust in his pants any second. so he then removes your foot giving you the coldest glare that even makes you stop. excusing himself from the table, alarming his fiancé but you roll your eyes at this action. Ari’s expecting you to follow him.

how fucking typical for the man who still thinks he owns you. you will not follow him, you won’t hop along. you aren’t his clueless bunny no more.

sudden clanking is erupted from across the table, to see sight of her dearest uncle clanking his pudding spoon against his wine glass catching everyone’s attention.

“everyone attention! i’d like to make a toast. this year has indeed been hard for us all, but when you look upon the reckoning there we see the clearing of a new resolution. it amazes me to this day that we see the youth taking charge of their futures, and I am utmost proud of my youngest niece. [y/n/n] Beaudelaire for carrying on our bloodlines legacy and continuing to bring honor upon us. ‘here here!’ for our dearest princess [y/n/n]!”

“here here!” the table cheers, raising their glasses of wine and champagne towards the dear princess, smiling and praising for your victory.

seeing sight of her father and mother smiling proudly at her, all their business friends and affiliations congratulate you once again. friends giggling, pecking your cheeks in swift hugs and your male classmates holler praises and throwing flirtatious winks.

the table continuously cheers and Bryce presses a kiss to your cheeks while you take a sip of your glass of white wine. yet you feel disheartened.

all this time you have thought you’d be sharing this moment with Ari. despite its what you’ve wanted, you feel melancholy and abruptly bitter.

this isn’t right, this doesn’t feel right whatsoever.

for how have you planned this to emotionally collapse on you when it was meant to make you feel better? how have you been focusing on yourself and loving yourself to only wish to be in the arms of the man who hurt you the most?

is this how that unfortunate Capulet girl felt? having no escape from the raging love she felt for a person she couldn’t have?

growing up, [y/n] knew that the storybooks on her bedroom shelves told no lies, the magical tales bared no falsehoods. being the innocent small girl she was, wishing upon stars by her windowsill when she couldn’t go to sleep you prayed for a prince to save you.

that night, the stars knew all your downhearted disputes, your troubling sorrows as you wept every single one to them. have they truly listened to you that North Star night ago, have they believed you?

the wise astral beings above know all and see all but are they working in your favor?

I reassure you this ladies and gentlemen, no matter how tragic or wicked the stars may be - they don’t act without purpose.

♡♡♡ thank you for reading! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this follow me to read more of my future works! ♡♡♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ my storybook || aka my masterlist!

#ari levinson #ari levinson × reader #ari levinson smut #brattycherubwrites #chris evans #chris evans × reader #chris evans smut #the red sea diving resort

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little-writings · 4 years

Text

A Present with a Personal Touch (Jumin x MC)

Unsure of what to get Jumin for the holiday season, you seek out advice from V to help solve your problem.

Word Count: 1,583

Happy holidays to everyone -- no matter what you’re celebrating I hope today is absolutely amazing for you! Life has been absolutely hectic for me but I’m glad to say I’ve made it to this point and I’m ready for the future, whatever that might bring! Thank you all endlessly for your patience and I hope this little prompt might make up for my constant absence. (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

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The holidays were quickly approaching – from one second to the next it was November and December came bursting through your door.

Usually, that wasn’t a problem for you; you adored seeing the seasons change from the warmth of orange, red, and yellow trees to the coverings of snow over their once lumbering branches, and the holiday lights that would brighten up the world around you more than the very stars in the sky.

The only issue was Jumin – just what to give him, that is. After all, what could you give to the man who had everything?

You spent many nights creeping from your husband’s arms in bed to pace nervously about in his office over the topic; plenty of notes scribbled with writing only to be crumpled and tossed away at your dismissal.

It wasn’t that you weren’t trying – you were. Desperately so. You wanted nothing more than to bring the light in his eyes that he so often brought to you – to give him something heartfelt and touching and new in his life of riches.

But what on earth could that thing be?

“I... I want this to be special!” You exclaimed over the phone. Somehow, in the midst of V’s constant travels and supposed work, you’d managed to catch him in a moment of free time. You spent the first few minutes of that free time, thanking him, though, V seemed a tad bit lonely himself – more than happy to accept your earnest, friendly company. “But I... I just don’t know what I could do! Whatever I get him – he could just as easily buy!”

“You’re right.” V hummed, a tinge of gentle amusement in his voice. “But I think he’d love anything so long as it’s from you.”

You folded your lips and sighed with a drop of your shoulders. “I know, but I don’t want it to be just anything. Jumin has changed my life in so many wonderful, amazing ways – I found my best friend, my husband – I just want to show him how thankful I am for everything... for him.”

Red crept onto your cheeks as you fiddled with your wedding ring, a smile spreading across your face in such a way that was easier than breathing.

“I love him so, so much, and I know he knows that, but I want to show him!”

V chuckled. “You mean other than the fact that you married him?”

“Well, I’d marry him all over again if I could!”

A bright wave of laughter poured in from the other line, and though you couldn’t see V, you could perfectly envision the grin painting his expression.

“Jumin may not believe in soulmates but the two of you are as close as it comes. In spite of what you may believe, Jumin didn’t always have everything – he only truly gained it when he met you.”

At your pause he continued, sincerity etched in him like the finest needlework. “He told me that. He does often.”

“Really?”

V simpered. “Of course.” He thought for a moment, his mind traveling far beyond the phone or where he was. “When we were growing up, the first gift I ever gave Jumin was a painting of where we first met – he was the first person I ever showed my artwork to and... he’d always been supportive.”

You’d never heard V open up in such a way to you before and you nearly forgot to breathe in your surprise, listening intently.

“The painting wasn’t encrusted with diamonds or lined with gold but he hugged the canvas so tightly when I gave it to him I worried it’d snap in half!”

He laughed, and you believed for a moment it might’ve sounded wistful, yearning for a past he could no longer grasp. He was quick to hide it away in an instant, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “The gifts that matter the most to Jumin aren’t the ones that are the most expensive or extraordinary – but the ones that come from your heart. It’s truly the thought that counts most for him.”

“Thank you, V... that was wonderful.” You spoke softly as if any louder and you might frighten him away. Truthfully, never having seen him so vulnerable might’ve left you a bit clueless, but you tried. “I really do appreciate your help.”

“I’m more than happy to help. Do you think you have an idea?”

You nodded, a glimmer of excitement brimming to life inside your chest.

“Yes, I think I do.”

And with that, your work began.

You wrote as if your life depended on it, a never-ending whirlwind of scribbles on paper that left your hand sore and aching like you’d never known.

But you would’ve done it all over again in a heartbeat. It was worth it. Jumin was utterly worth it.

You just simply couldn’t wait for the holidays to finally arrive.

And when it did, you were practically bouncing in your excitement.

Jumin too, took to the festivities with an odd bit of delight anyone else would rarely see. His tie was dotted with snowflakes and he might’ve worn a pair of reindeer antlers on his head – only upon your asking, however.

“Are you sure it doesn’t look... silly?”

You pressed a quick kiss to his nose, a few giggles slipping through your voice. “It looks perfect!”

“You’re too kind, love.”

“No, I’m just honest.” You took a few steps back and tapped your feet in anticipation, practically antsy. “Are you ready for your present?”

Jumin had woken you up that morning with his own gifts for you, his expression lighting up with pure joy each time you opened something up. His gifts were surprisingly small and personal – little things he‘d notice your gaze holding or reminded him of you -- a new turnaround that he admitted he’d needed a helping hand from the RFA to accomplish.

You weren’t afraid to admit your heart absolutely melted at the sight of it all.

And now, it was your turn to do the same for Jumin.

You scrambled for the box and gave it to your husband hurriedly, a simple box made up of festive stripes and a bright bow settled atop.

“Go on, go ahead!” You beamed warmly, Jumin chuckling at your eagerness. “I think you’ll like it!”

“I’m sure I will dear.”

He fiddled with the box curiously before opening it up, lifting up a leather-bound book, his brows raising intently at the sight of a note written on the very first page.

“To all the chapters that have yet to be written. I can’t wait to experience them all with you.”

“When I stayed with you -- when you began opening up to me -- you told me how much you loved stories, and you read me your favorite,” You reminisced on that time with a fond, wide smile that brought those familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “So I wanted to write my favorite story.”

Jumin’s lips parted with a gentle, hesitant breath, almost afraid he’d somehow be wrong as he spoke.

“Is this...?”

You nodded, biting back a small, sheepish laugh. “It’s our story.”

As if you hung the very stars themselves, Jumin stared at you in utter and absolute awe.

Of all the gifts Jumin had received, in all their shapes and sizes, only a few had truly taken his breath away. Even fewer presents had managed to cause his heart to swell.

Your present, brought his heart to a melting point.

Jumin began to read the pages in bits and pieces -- glimpses of your view of him in the beginning of your days in the RFA to your wedding night -- each word of how your feelings grew and your bond deepened etching that much further inside of him.

He hadn’t even realized the tears brimming in his eyes until your hands wrapped around his cheeks, your thumbs gingerly wiping away at the teardrops.

“Oh no, no what’s wrong?” Curls of Jumin’s hair became entangled around your fingertips as you brought his expression to you. A sudden wave of panic coursed through you only to mellow at the sight of the warm smile on his face.

“Nothing is wrong, love, nothing at all.” He chuckled. “I’d even say things are as close to perfect as such a thing can be.”

“They’re the good kind of tears?”

“The very good kind.” Jumin mused.”I just remembered how incredibly lucky I am... how incredibly lucky and irrevocably happy I am.”

He pulled you close, the book kept to his chest as if it’d be a tragedy to ever let go. Your husband’s forehead rested against your own and steadied himself in spite of the slightest tremors in his voice.

“Thank you... not just for this... but for everything. I truly don’t want to imagine what my life would be without you -- I don’t want to imagine any sort of life without you.”

“You don’t have to! I’m not going anywhere!” You grinned. “We still have all those extra pages to fill up after all!”

“We might need another book, you know.”

“And why’s that?”

Jumin pressed a tender kiss between your brows and eased you into an embrace that like a blanket, you simply enveloped yourself in. There wasn’t a single other place in the world, you’d rather be than right there in his arms, listening as he whispered the answer into your ear.

“Because I don’t think I ever want our story to end.”

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fragilevixenfic · 4 years

Text

Dulce Periculum

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24031747 (read it here or continue below)

Summary: Dulce periculum translates to “danger is sweet”. Takes place nine months after the episode “…And in the End.”Maxine and Spencer have continued seeing each other, in spite of the interference brought to the surface by Cat Adams. Spencer continues to work closely with the BAU after it nearly dismantled, with signature members scattering to the winds, leaving behind only a few, including himself, to keep working on their caseload. After a long, intense case, Spencer returns home to a little more than a can of worms.

Rating: M

Ship: Spencer/Maxine

Show: Criminal Minds

Category: Fluff/Angst/Humor/Smut

Note: “Seduce my mind and you can have my body, Find my soul and I’m yours forever.” – Anonymous

I am nowhere near Spencer’s level of intellect but I hope I did him justice. I didn’t want it to be too smutty or too fluffy so I hope the angst didn’t overtake the story. I hope that I lived up to the request - this is my first foray into this world of Criminal Minds in spite of it being one of my FAVE shows. I adore these characters.

A modest demeanor arouses

Thoughts of seduction.

-Mason Cooley

9:30 PM

Spencer Reid’s Apartment

Washington DC

Exhaustion had been a familiar friend for longer than Spencer wanted to admit as his keys stabbed at the keyhole, missing four or five times before finally intercepting and setting off the mechanism inside. Instinct had carried him home and pure adrenaline had kept him from losing the battle with gravity as balance was a cruel mistress that had him hanging by a thread. Twenty-six hours, fourteen minutes, thirteen seconds, and the time was still ticking away. That’s how long it had been since he’d slept and J.J. did her best to distract him long enough on the jet back from their case but, it only made her relaxed enough to pass out in mid-story. The white flag sailed as he watched her for a few moments, relieved over the reclamation of their friendship, and indulged in a Rossi-like activity by accepting that glass of single-malt from Alvez as the clouds moved by.

The scent of books, old and new, wafted across his nostrils, ushering him over the threshold until the juniper paint, patterned wallpaper, and walnut wainscoting adjusted in his line of sight. It was home even if it hadn’t always inspired a feeling of comfort or care. Tonight, though, it was different, as the warm air nipped at his wrists and his Adam’s apple as he loosened his loudly patterned tie above the curve of his vest while he kicked out of his shoes. Spencer hadn’t considered himself the drinking type but he was eyeing a bottle of cabernet sauvignon from Sonoma Valley gifted to him by Garcia the week before she left. He’d made a promise that it wouldn’t just sit and collect dust but it had started to do just that as he looked at it nestled between a section of old Shakespearean collections.

Poetically placed, he had figured, as he pulled the bottle from the shelf and smiled at the wine’s vintage of 1981. He chuckled over the choice of a wine from the year he was born and at the intentional way that Garcia knew how to appeal to his attention to detail. Missing her presence didn’t do it justice as he pulled his phone from his pocket, formulating the text to the bubbly woman that never ceased to put a smile on his face even at the darkest of times. She really had become his rock and kept him sane as the world seemed to be falling apart around him.

I made you a promise when you gave this to me. I’m getting ready to pop the cork on this one.

He snapped a picture of the bottle and sent it with the text, a smirk still resting on his lips as he pushed the phone into his pocket and glanced at the closed door behind him. It was quiet and lonely in the room, almost to the point of agony as he went to the stereo equipment in the corner, flipping through the albums until a Jazz compilation stood out. The cover was bright, loud even, and represented everything that Spencer wasn’t as he put the vinyl on and let the needle touch the ridged surface as it spun. The melody filled the room with just enough sound to be a murmur that played against his eardrums while he went to the kitchen in search of a corkscrew.

The phone buzzed in his pocket and Penelope Garcia’s name lit up across the display as he took a peek, conjuring a smile that rivaled a first kiss as he pressed the speaker. “Garcia…You didn’t need to call me while I open the bottle.”

“Nonsense, mon ami,” Garcia’s voice was refreshing and missed as he searched through a kitchen drawer that was uncharacteristically cluttered, rifling through everything. “Where’s that lovely girl Maxine? You should be popping that bottle with her not sitting there alone.”

“I sent a text when I got back to DC but she hasn’t replied yet,” Spencer unearthed a corkscrew with a red handle from the mess and pushed the drawer closed, a confused look on his face as he went to work on the bottle. “I know that she was complicit in the Cat ordeal, but there are times that I feel as though it’s still hovering over our heads like a dark cloud.”

“You’re literally the smartest man I know but you’re also the dumbest, Reid,” Garcia’s remark coaxed a scoff as he popped the cork free, the sound echoing in the nearly sterile kitchen as he let the bottle breathe. “Sometimes, you have to woo a woman even when she says you don’t need to woo her.”

“Speaking of wooing…how are things with Alvez?” Spencer opened the curio and retrieved a squatty wine glass with a gold rim, a faint smile appearing as he carried it and the bottle into the living room. “Every time I inquire he threatens to take my sidearm and shoot me.”

“Shut the front door…I wouldn’t have pegged him for a privacy guy,” Garcia’s laugh in Spencer’s ear was a welcomed distraction as he poured the wine and sank into a leather chair, the squish considerable as he felt it give beneath his backside. “We’re taking it slow. Dinner and movie nights every chance we get, nothing extravagant yet. I’m, shockingly, okay with it with respect to my relationship history.”

“I’m absolutely overjoyed for you, Garcia,” Spencer took his first sip of the deep red liquid and let it wash over his palate for a moment before swallowing, appreciating the blend of flavor that his friend had picked for him. “As expected, the wine is exactly as it should be and more. Thank you.”

“Oh, it’s good? I was worried that it would be too pungent with the vintage but something about it spoke to me and you know me. The louder the message, the quicker the grab,” Garcia couldn’t hide the excitement through the phone as her voice climbed a little higher while his eyes watched the bubble in the burgundy shade swirl. “You’re being honest, right?”

“I’m a notoriously bad liar when it comes to you and I wouldn’t lie about a gift from you, Garcia,” Spencer was enraptured by the texture of the label on the bottle as he twisted it with the tips of his fingers as it sat against the top of the table next to him. “Drinking alone, though? I’m out of my element.”

“You should call her, Spence,” Garcia’s tone softened as she referenced Maxine with a soft implication, tapping at the weaker parts of his psyche as he picked the glass back up and elevated it, before taking a sip. “It couldn’t hurt to have company. Just rip off the band-aid.”

“It couldn’t hurt to have a lot of things but I seem to find new and exciting ways of ripping open a perfectly good suture,” Spencer was thinking of Maeve, haunted by her pale ghost to the point that he could almost see her visage standing at the window with a book open while delivering a pointed look that scolded him for even thinking of her right now. “I don’t know what to do without sounding like a desperate, lonely man.”

“Desperate is kind of a subjective term for your situation, my philosophical friend,” Garcia had him curious and confused, which unsettled his stomach as he leaned against the armrest, elbow digging into the leather while the sigh hovered in his lungs. “No one should be alone unless that is what they actually want—and I don’t get the sense that you want to be alone.”

Garcia had been right about him. Spencer Reid’s naiveté was oozing from his pores, lighting him up in neon as the air finally left his lips in a huff. A man could read every book ranging from the scientific methodology to the psychological qualities of beekeeping but it would not be enough to get by in a real-world situation. This wasn’t beekeeping and while hedonism could be quantified, it could not be taught. This was the one time that paying extra attention to Derek Morgan might’ve done him a little bit of good but he shied away from that kind of bravado back then. He could already picture the smirk on Derek Morgan’s face if he were present; the white flag flying to be shown the ways of natural masculinity that Spencer really never wanted to utilize.

At least, he never wanted to until the flash of Maxine’s deep, mahogany eyes passed through his consciousness with that mysterious, playful smile that enraptured him.

“That would involve her actually answering my calls or texts,” Spencer swallowed a considerable mouthful of the wine and tilted his head back, letting the vertebrae crack back into place with a satisfactory series of pops. “I haven’t heard back from her since yesterday when she called to tell me goodnight before we finished the final day in Chicago.”

“Was your invitation a normal invitation or one of those signature Spencer Reid-style invitations buried in sarcasm and symbolism that only your closest friends might actually understand?” Garcia was tinkering away on her end as she let out a laugh and became an echo with a change to speaker. “You’re on speaker while I wrestle with a cork.”

“It was a standard invite, I think,” Spencer wrinkled his nose and stood up, pacing the floor as the needle bounced against the stopper and the music came to a halt, muting the noise in the room. “Are you joining me in a glass via telephone?”

“No, I’m letting it breathe before Luke gets here,” Garcia’s voice preceded the pop of the cork as Spencer switched the vinyl to an Annie

Lennox album in an effort to depart his typical mood. “We’re watching Hardware, drinking chardonnay, and eating fruit and cheese.”

“You’re watching a horror film about androids?” Spencer had a smirk hiding on his lips as the androgynous, melodic vocals filled the room while he adjusted the curtains. “I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“I lost a bet to Luke about the number of texts, emails, and phone calls he could squeeze in while on a case,” Garcia was reluctant with the admission as the comment had Spencer’s interest piqued fully. “He managed to nearly double the number that I said he’d do and he, literally, sent me a text that said, ‘I win, I win, I win’ like a six-year-old.”

“So that’s why he was on the phone so much,” Spencer started to laugh as he recollected each moment that Alvez was on his cell phone while having a full-blown conversation with him, the realization that he was paying attention to Garcia absolutely hilarious as he let the pieces fall into place. “I’m glad you’re happy, Garcia.”

“It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” Garcia’s question blended perfectly with the distinct tapping against the door from the exterior hallway, bringing Spencer’s attention toward it without hesitation.

“It really has,” Spencer got up, leaving the wine behind on the side table as the spirit of inquiry took over and encouraged his feet forward until his hand was at the lock to turn it.

“Was that a knock at the door, Spence?” Garcia asked, the muddled reverberations of glass tapping together moving through the phone as she kept him on speaker.

Spencer didn’t fully absorb the question as he clicked the deadbolt until it unlocked the door, the shift of the door vibrating against his palm as his equilibrium spun. Spencer’s anxiety jumped and his palms began to sweat as the subtle tapping of heels against the floor preceded the sigh that he could hear through the barrier between them. He had his conclusions as to who it was and the excitement was taking a backseat to the paranoia he couldn’t help but feel. Maxine hadn’t talked to him since the day before and her showing up to his apartment unannounced wasn’t one of her typical characteristics. It had him reeling as he opened the door to confirm his guesses as her brown eyes stared up at him beneath waves of dirty blond locks.

“Hey,” Maxine’s voice was in that tenor between mousy and pointed as she tucked her hair behind her ears and rocked in her heels, folding her hands behind her back.

“Hey,” Spencer bit down on his bottom lip until it hurt and felt the fog lift as he could hear Garcia saying his name in his ear. “Garcia, I’ll call you back. Have fun with Alvez and your wine night.”

“Go get her, Tiger,” Garcia had an unmistakable perk in her voice before she hung up the phone, leaving Spencer with the cellular up near his face like a nervous teenage boy.

“Are you going to let me in or is the plan to stare at me until I disappear?” Maxine exhaled slowly, her eyelashes fanning down then up as she slowly blinked.

Spencer made a short, sweeping motion with his hand and moved to let her in, the hesitation written on his face as he furrowed his brow while closing the door. “You didn’t call. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“Sometimes, I want to keep you guessing,” Maxine had been a subtle, welcomed surprise in his life but the tone in her voice was different as she leaned against the back of his sofa and narrowed her stare as he turned to look at her. “Can’t a girl be a little bit mysterious once in a while?”

“That would intimate that there was a need for something titillating and I didn’t think we’d gotten to the point where things were boring,” Spencer swallowed hard, the mental processes rocking as her smile took shape and the curves of her cheeks softened that stare for a moment. “Have we?”

“I didn’t say that,” Maxine coiled her index around the center button of his vest closure, lingering along the flat, pearl finish as she chewed the center of her lip and looked up at him. “I have moments where I can’t get it out of my head seeing her in your arms and I want to know if you think about it, too.”

Spencer knew she was referencing Cat as he nearly swallowed his tongue and stepped away from her, moving toward the kitchen to retrieve another glass to offer her wine. “I think I need a refill…would you like a glass? It’s from Garcia.”

“Sure,” Maxine had been taking notes, toying with Spencer in some way as she leaned against the armrest of the sofa and crossed her legs, perching there like an elegant bird as she studied his movements. “You’re not answering me which leads me to believe you have been thinking about her.”

“I have a photographic memory, Max,” Spencer was pouring her a glass near his own, the contents of his dwindling bottle evident as it became lighter in his hand. “I’m incapable of not recollecting pieces of my history at any given moment of the day.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Spence,” Maxine’s tongue lingered on his name as she went to the record player and moved the needle until the downbeat of Annie Lennox’s “Cold” began filling the room. “I have eyes. I can tell myself on a daily basis that it wasn’t loaded but there has been a part of me that just wonders…”

Don’t I exist for you

Don’t I still live for you

(Cold, cold, cold)

“You’re not her,” Spencer extended the glass of wine and watched her big, bright eyes track up his arm until they met a gaze they’d never seen before as a swallow nearly betrayed his cool exterior. “You don’t need to be.”

Maxine took a sip and scrutinized his body language as he battled with nerves and a desire that hadn’t quite manifested all of the way in front of her yet. “I really want to believe you but I feel like I was just the safe choice to keep you from looking inward. I don’t want to be your crutch.”

“You’re not a safe choice and you’re definitely not my crutch, Max,” Spencer’s tongue was loosening as he raised his glass to his lips, watching her from the rim until he tipped it to drink. “You have been so much more even though I’m the worst at elucidating it.”

“I know that she’s dangerous and you seemed to like that about her,” Maxine pressed her lips together, mingling the wine with her lip gloss as she moved them gently back and forth while angling her chin down just a touch. “Saying what you mean really isn’t your forte…you should be trying your hand at showing it for a change.”

The comment was loaded but Maxine wasn’t wrong about her observation as she blurred the line drawn in the sand with her toe, palming the glass as the distance between them seemed like miles. Spencer wanted to be gutsy and the wine was dulling the separation between bravery and stupidity as he held the bottle in the air, tilting it toward her like a peace offering. Maxine met him in the middle, letting him fill the glass until the last drops splashed into the deep, claret liquid. The sound of Annie Lennox over their mutual silence only added to a sense of anticipation between them as Spencer let the bottom of the bottle touch the top of the table with a resonating clink.

Dying is easy

It’s living that scares me to death

I could be so content

Hearing the sound of your breath

“It’s a little pathetic that it took a couple glasses of wine to cross the proverbial bridge, Max,” Spencer nearly melted into the floor over her fingers around his tie as she tugged it loose from the deep green and gray woven blend of his vest. “Gives a whole new meaning to the words failure to launch, doesn’t it?”

“I see no failure in anything going on but you’re definitely going to have to tell Garcia this wine is fabulous,” Maxine grinned from behind her glass, the warmth gathering at the back of her throat with each sip as she looked up at him. “You’re overthinking being here in front of me. Do I make you nervous, Spence?”

“Only since the second I met you,” Spencer wouldn’t have ordinarily admitted it but the combination of the wine playing on his inhibitions and her free hand tugging his tie was more than enough to tip the scales. “You’re one of the few women that I’ve encountered that speaks her mind so freely and it never ceases to amaze me. It isn’t danger that I seek, though…I need you to know that.”

“You’re talking around the subject as though you think I’ll be bruised by what you’ll say to me,” Maxine gave the satin material between her fingers a firm tug, bringing Spencer off balance as she elevated to the tips of her toes to nibble the curve of his lip, tasting the wine that had stayed behind. “Stop being afraid of the possibilities for once in your life.”

The needle began to stutter against the center of the record player as Spencer elevated his glass to his lips, finishing the last drops in a final swallow. Reluctance nagged at him as he pulled his tie free and moved around to the extensive collection of vinyl, thumbing through until he found Annie’s album Medusa sticking out from a section of her others. It was something about the combination of wine, Maxine, and an impromptu confessional that had him desiring the sound of Annie Lennox crooning in the background. It was an odd thing, though, that he couldn’t remember the last time either of these records had been played, let alone the last time he wanted to keep hearing more than classical emanating from his speakers.

“The curse of the romantic is a greed for dreams, an intensity of expectation that, in the end, diminishes the reality,” Spencer had her captivated as he managed to dull and heighten seduction in the same breath as he placed his glass next to the empty bottle of wine.

“Marya Mannes?” Maxine still had a fair amount left of her drink in the glass as she eclipsed the distance and leaned against him, arching up to breathe against his neck. “All really great lovers are articulate, and verbal seduction is the surest road to actual seduction.”

“I had thought about going with that one but I figured you’d see right through me,” Spencer was already identifying the notes of her perfume and body butter as she directed his chin down with her fingers while she extended her arm to put her glass down. “Is this why you didn’t text or call?”

White tea, sage, a hint of citrus. The combination was intoxicating, but not overwhelming. Delicate and sophisticated, but not girly.

“Talking myself into coming over here with a singular goal in mind and arguing with the resistance against it?” Maxine tasted his lips again, letting a kiss develop as she ran her fingers through his hair and steered his hand around her before looking into his hazel eyes. “Agonized all day over the potential for rejection.”

“And now?” Spencer let her tug his jacket off and toss it aside, knocking over a stack of previously read novels on the coffee table in the process. “Feeling particularly brave or brave enough to get by?”

“Actually, I’m contemplating the impracticality of seduction when one wears as many layers as you do,” Maxine laughed as she popped the buttons free on the vest, loosening his tie as the front of his shirt finally peeked out. “How long does it take to undress alone when you wear this much? You better not be wearing an undershirt like the prim and proper man I think you might be.”

Spencer had a bright pink sheen to his cheeks as he fiddled with the delicate material of her cardigan, folding it open across her shoulders over the top of a chemise while his eyes stayed balanced on hers. “I don’t think I get dressed thinking I’m going to have anyone trying to seduce me. I thought this was a good, sensible choice for attire when I was arranging clothes for the week.”

“The week?” Maxine’s lips curved into a grin as she loosened his tie and gave it a tug, freeing it from his collar in a smooth motion while she licked her lips and watched the nervousness form on his face. “You really are hyper-vigilant aren’t you?”

Maxine beamed up at him as her thumbs slid underneath of the top of his vest, guiding it away from his arms until he was casual in nothing more than a linen shirt and his slacks with those dark, houndstooth patterned socks. Spencer was captivated but his analytical eye was paying attention to the little swell of her lip as it moved between her teeth between sharp inhales. Maxine was controlling her breaths and giving him ample opportunity to read her, learning the little things that drove her crazy even as she was trying to explore him and push his limits.

“No, I’m a specific planner so I can fit everything in a suitcase with enough foresight to anticipate the possibility of a longer than normal trip,” Spencer was rationalizing his anal-retentive behavior while Maxine was halfway down the front of his shirt, undoing each button without taking her eyes off of his. “…you’re unusually deft with buttons, has anyone told you that?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that,” Maxine had him in a tailspin to the point that his rear bumped against a bookshelf as she curled her index to draw him forward. “I really am making you anxious. It’s written from the top of your head right down to your toes.”

“I take it back, you are a little dangerous,” Spencer swallowed another knot of nervous energy, the cold air wafting across bare skin as the linen fell away from his chest and abdominal musculature, exposing the expanse of gooseflesh as the light caught the pale gleam of his skin. “I have officially sobered up.”

“I have to find a way to keep it interesting,” Maxine had previously admired the constant politeness from Spencer but she wanted something more from him as she felt havering fingertips against her collarbone. “We’ve tiptoed around each other for long enough and we both have nothing to lose.”

The soft declaration was an invitation and the fire in her eyes simply provided the spark as Spencer took that leap to pull her in, taking the lead. Studying the rhythm of her beating heart on nights they’d spent wrapped in each other’s arms on his couch watching an obscure movie together had given Spencer just enough ammunition of where begin and how to continue. Maxine had also begun to learn patterns of Spencer’s subtle bits of signaling, though, as she felt his hands down her arms, guiding the sleeves away from soft skin. She expected nothing less from him as his agonizingly sweet, tantalizing care with each part of her elevated the pace of her breath and pushed forth urgency as she watched him slip to his knees with each nibble of skin along her stomach.

“You can’t tell me that you didn’t think about your outfit before you put it on, Max,” Spencer was pushing boundaries and hiking up her skirt, tugging at the nylons that were barely masking the natural porcelain skin that captivated him. “The material, the color…the fit…everything is has a purpose and my assumption is you changed clothes before you came here.”

“Ah, fuck,” Maxine held onto the edge of the stereo stand as Spencer bit down on the space above her belly button and pulled her nylons down, pushing his fingertips against her skin to awaken the goosebumps. “I did. I had on jeans before and wanted something less, binding.”

“We’re not so different, then, are we?” Spencer led her out of the sensible Mary Janes and finished the removal of her nylons while the lace-trimmed material of her panties peeked out from the bottom of her shoved up skirt. “You’re breathing really hard, should I stop?”

“No, don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” Maxine breathed through a tight space between her lips as she gritted her teeth and gathered a fist full of his hair, holding him against her skin as his breath crept down, narrowing the fabric of her skirt into a bunched section at her hips. “Keep going.”

Spencer smirked as he tilted his chin up, rubbing the five o’clock shadow of his jaw against her until the moan left her lips and her knees involuntarily parted. “Could do a study on the action versus reaction of my mildly unshaven face versus different parts of your body…using the pitch of your groans as a baseline.”

“Oh, my God,” Maxine tossed her head back, narrowly missing a shelf of books behind her, the smile on her face as she felt the curve of his jaw move to her thighs, eliciting a lower, more drawn-out whimper. “How did you make that sound hot as fuck?”

“Intelligence doesn’t have to inspire a chorus of yawning,” Spencer hadn’t had an opportunity to undress anyone in far too long but the feeling of Maxine’s goosebump covered flesh against his lips encouraged his hands to continue as the skirt was discarded onto the growing heap. “It can make you moan over and over.”

“You are going to get so many complaints from your neighbors,” Maxine bit down on her lip as Spencer nibbled his way up her stomach, dragging fingers along the curve of her body until it met the soft layer of chemise to lift it away. “I want all of you…right now.”

Rational, well-constructed thoughts and actions went out a window as Spencer stood, the material of Maxine’s chemise between his fingers as he felt her warmth radiating against his bare stomach. It had only been minutes and the tables had flipped as Maxine looked up at him with a growing throb between her thighs, an ache becoming a need as she moved her knee forward, rubbing his inner thigh with it. The wait had been worth it even as Spencer let Maxine tug the belt from the loops and pop a button from the thread in an eager attempt to free him from his confines. Spencer had a mind for painstaking enticement but Maxine was less-than-apt to follow along with his pace as her teeth found his collar on a shirt that didn’t belong on his uniquely-well-built frame, tugging him close.

“Jesus…Christ,” Spencer uttered the words as a budding erection pushed against her while his slacks slid to his knees, trapping them together. “You’re going to wind up killing me.”

“I don’t want to kill you, Spence,” Maxine bit her lip and made a gap between the elastic waistband of his shorts and his skin while gazing up at him. “I want you to finish what you’ve started.”

Spencer’s eyes rolled as her index fingers grazed a flood of warmth as the erection continued to build, triggering an involuntary spasm as he squeezed her thigh and writhed the rest of the way out of his pants. Maxine gasped as Spencer’s eyes finally focused on hers and his grip slipped to her ass, giving her a decisive squeeze as the shelf behind her rattled again. Spencer covered a waiting moan with a fervent kiss, his tongue sliding beyond lips and teeth to find hers as one of his hands teased the satin and lace trim between her thighs. She was already soaked as his middle finger pressed the material along the tender flesh until he could feel the building twitch against his palm as she bucked against his hand.

Maxine tossed her head back a second time and felt the cool air for a fleeting moment as Spencer guided the thin, wet material to one side to slip his middle finger inside of her. “Oh, my God, yes, yes, please!”

“You’re so beautiful,” Spencer curled and withdrew his finger, repeating the motion as her moans directed toward the ceiling and echoed in the room. “The most cliché thing I could ever say while my finger is strumming but it’s so true—you are, so fucking beautiful.”

“Sex…is…cliché…and, fuck, don’t you dare stop,” Maxine cooed and helped him along, covering his hand with her own while giving his hard on a not-so-subtle squeeze as she ground against him.

Spencer wanted to shake the perfectly organized and categorized books free from their spot on the shelf as he shyly withdrew his finger and palm from her, the squeeze of her muscles grasping at him in his absence as he took a step back to admire her. Maxine let out a drawn-out whimper as she chewed her lip, watching his erection move against his boxers as he gave a final pull of his sleeves, rejecting the well-fitting linen onto the floor. There was a part of Spencer that didn’t want to rush as he watched her reach behind her back, the springy-click of her bra tapping against the well-constructed shelving behind her while she keened from the friction moving across her breasts. Maxine knew what she wanted and she was daring Spencer to move as he took another step forward, gliding the straps off of her shoulders then down her arms to reveal the ivory and flushed flesh that had been carefully hidden.

Beautiful might not have accurately described her as her chest heaved and responded to his touch as he bent to kiss a trail along the curve of her neck while his digits teased the alabaster and pink of her breasts. Maxine had been waiting, impatiently, for his hands and lips to make their mark as he worked his way down her curves, sloping past eager nipples and a soft stomach as he neared an apex. Spencer’s eyes looked up at her as her tongue slid off to the side of her lips while she watched him move, her fingers weaving through his locks as he liberated her of her underwear in a smooth, downward motion.

“Jesus, fuck, oh my God,” Maxine gripped his hair and the shelf at the same time as his mouth found wetness and his hand guided her leg higher, squeezing her thigh while he hummed against her lips, parting them with the flat of his tongue. “Spencer…I’m so close…”

Spencer slipped a finger into Maxine’s wetness and felt a quiver from her muscles before the nerves tapped against him, clamping down as he moved along her clit, grazing the tender bundle with his fingers before circling with his tongue. She telegraphed the movement, matching the synchronicity as hips betrayed her and bucked against his face, stuttering the sound of a groan as he ignored a throb between his own legs. He wanted this for her and he wanted to hear her as a prelude to more. The moans scattered and became louder as his mouth mimicked the eagerness her body was conveying until he heard his name proclaimed, raggedly from her lips.

“Do you need to stop?” Spencer’s erection would’ve been screaming if given a chance as he stood, licking the taste of her from his lips as she met his gaze. “I know that an orgasm can take a lot of energy out of most women.”

Maxine shook her head slowly and glanced at the bulge as it bumped against her, the smile creeping across her lips as she stood up straight, reaching for him. “I’m not most women.”

Spencer didn’t have time to let that comment absorb fully as the sensation of Maxine’s fingers wrapped around his cock was doing little for his processes, making every nerve over-fire as the cold air nipped at his backside. The electricity in the atmosphere increased as his shorts slid to his ankles, leaving nothing more between them than a breeze and the brewing heat from readied friction. The shelf didn’t stand a chance against their hedonism as Spencer guided Maxine’s legs around his hips, into a position that beckoned so much more than the intertwining of bodies. They collided and the space between them all but evaporated as Spencer thrust slow, burying himself inside of her as she came down to meet him.

Mouths met and the shelf shuddered from the top to the bottom as Spencer manhandled Maxine, rocking her backside against a smooth edge until a stack of books came tumbling down from the top. The mutual moaning blended with a series of laughs as he cradled her ass, moving her away from the unstable mess they’d created before carrying her to the sofa. Maxine maneuvered her way onto him as they tumbled onto the cushions, straddling his thighs as she took charge of the motion, giving him no time to recover before riding him. They had become a touch graceless as Spencer held onto her thighs while she rocked and swiveled her hips, repeating his name in a series of whispers as the whimpers rivaled his.

“I’m so close,” They both found the words as the murmur became a little closer to a wail.

Spencer grasped her wrists and pulled her close, rolling uncoordinatedly onto the floor, knocking the throw pillows in every direction in the process, as he made a valiant attempt to switch positions. A laugh left Maxine’s lips as they met the rug with a thud but was replaced with a drawn-out moan as Spencer thrust deep and flicked his tongue across a nipple. It lit a spark as the thrusts could barely be met and the movements became frenzied with every little move he made while sweat began to glimmer across the surface of their skin. Maxine tilted her head back as the climax hit her in a rush and set off the one waiting in the wings from Spencer; the flood gates opened and the cries reverberated until their rhythm finally slowed.

“I think I bruised my tailbone,” Maxine groaned as they stayed wrapped around each other on the floor, breathing hard as muscles continued to spasm while the room spun.

Spencer snagged the pillows from their discarded roll before groping for the throw blanket on the edge of the couch to cover up with, glancing back at the mess of books that were now all over the floor across the room. “It’s going to take at least an hour to re-organize that shelf.”

@pprettyboyreid @dreatine @theauthor97 @criminalgubler @gublernation tagging you all...I’m not normally into shameless self promotion.

#Spencer Reid #Maxine Brenner #Smut #writing is life #fanfic #intellect with a side of sex #fanfiction #Criminal Minds

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there-must-be-a-lock · 5 years

Text

Ocean Eyes

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~1870

Warnings: Gratuitous ocean metaphors, Sam being his panty-melting hotdorable self.

A/N: Remember how I was going to write ~200 words of fluff, just to switch gears for a day? Remember how it spiraled wildly out of control and I thought it’d end up more like ~1000 words? Um, yeah. That wasn’t quite right either. Fuck me, I’m long-winded. Partly inspired by Billie Eilish’s song “Ocean Eyes,” which was recommended to me by @dawnie1988, who is basically just the best.

She noticed the sweater before she was fully awake.

She’d fallen asleep in the backseat of the Impala, curled up sideways with her knees tucked up to her chest. It had been warm that morning, but she wasn’t prepared for the chill of October in New England when the sun set and the temperature dropped rapidly; she had a vague memory of shivering, trying to huddle tighter against the seat, as she started to doze off somewhere around New Hampshire.

So she noticed the unexpected warmth, first.

Then it was the scent. It was familiar, and so was the maddening twist of heat she felt, the gut-wrenching spike of need, followed by the certainty that everything was right in the world. It was a combination of sweet-safe-comfortable and ohgodwant that only Sam could make her feel.

She could never put her finger on what that smell was, exactly. She could never conjure it up in her memory when she was away from him, but no matter how long it had been since she’d seen him, the first hug had her inhaling deep and remembering: right, of course, how could I forget? It was just Sam. That smell meant Sam, and Sam meant she was safe.

She snuggled in deeper, rubbing her cheek on the soft fabric impulsively, before she’d even opened her eyes.

Her sleepy brain was slow to put the pieces together, but she got there eventually.

It must’ve been the dark charcoal-grey sweater he’d worn the previous day. It brought out the grey in his eyes; she remembered the way her stomach flipped when she saw him. They’d been working a case in a quiet seaside town in Maine. His eyes had looked steely, but they glinted gold at the edges when the light hit them right, just like the last rays of sun slanting through stormclouds and flashing off the distant ripples of the sea. She smiled at the memory.

Someone snuffled and snorted in their sleep.

She opened her eyes. Sam was the first thing she saw: sprawled out next to her with his cheek against the headrest, long limbs at awkward angles in the confines of the car, looking right back at her. He didn’t look away or try to pretend that he hadn’t been staring. Even in the dim not-quite-dawn light, she could see the strange, wild expression on his face, focused intently on her. It was the way he looked when they were in the final stages of solving a case, racing toward the conclusion. He was watching her like she was the last missing piece of a puzzle.

“Morning,” she mumbled. She blinked, trying not to stare, but it was no use. He was too fucking beautiful to be real sometimes.

“Sleep well?” he asked, quiet and hoarse.

She nodded. “Thanks for the blanket.”

“You needed to rest, after that fight. How’s your shoulder? Let me check it out?”

She scooted over a little and he leaned in to meet her in the middle. She tilted her head to the side and kept her eyes on Dean, snoring in the driver’s seat. Cas was mirroring him on the passenger side. It was much safer to look at them than to acknowledge how close Sam was.

His long fingers were careful and gentle as he tugged at her shirt, exposing the gauze-covered cut where her neck met her shoulder, and pulled up the corner of the bandage. She could feel his breath, just a feather-light tickle of warm air. She shivered.

“Still cold?” Sam asked.

She was still wrapped in his sweater. His proximity was making her feel overheated, if anything: a flush in her cheeks, a tingle starting low in her gut.

“No.”

Sam’s fingertips brushed ever so slightly over swollen skin as he smoothed the edges of the bandage back down.

“Looks okay. We’ll wrap it better when we get home.”

He wasn’t pulling away. He tugged her shirt back into place and then he was touching her again, running his fingers gently down the side of her neck. His hand cupped her shoulder, his big palm curling around the curve of it, and his thumb rubbed a little circle, massaging the muscle there. Her breath caught in her throat.

She went utterly still for a moment. It was nothing, or it should’ve been nothing, nothing more than a sweet touch between friends, Sam taking care of her and grounding her and reassuring her as fucking always… but the simple pressure of his thumb under her collarbone was lighting every nerve ending in her body on fire. Her exhale was more like an uneven, shuddery sigh, mortifyingly loud in the close confines of the car.

Sam snatched his hand away abruptly.

The silence felt thick and hot.

“I need some air,” she bit out, and she untangled herself from his sweater hastily, shoving it back onto the seat without looking at him. He made a little noise, an indistinct protest, but she was already fumbling for the door handle, easing it open as quietly as she could, clumsy with sleep and cramped muscles.

The Impala was parked next to the ocean. Out over the water, where the sea met the sky, she could see the first hints of pink and lilac blossoming at the horizon, but almost everything else in her field of vision was a deep, monochromatic green-grey. The shore was a tumble of massive, weathered rocks, without any sort of welcoming bank that could be called a beach. A lone fisherman was silhouetted in the distance, perched at the end of a long jetty. Otherwise it was deserted: just some seagulls wheeling overhead in the sharp chilly breeze, and the car, and her.

She stepped from the pavement to a boulder and started to pick her way down toward the water, hopping from crag to crag, stopping short of the slippery shine that marked the reach of the waves and their spray. There was a flat-enough stone there where she could stand without worrying about her balance. The wind was cutting right through her thin shirt. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to shiver.

It was hard enough working with Sam and keeping her professional cool. Waking up next to that smile? God. This whole thing was just getting so pathetic, and that sigh might as well have been a moan. Her cheeks burned all over again as it replayed in her memory.

The crashing waves covered the sound of his footsteps. By the time she heard and turned to look, he was close, stepping easily from one rock to the next where she’d had to jump and scramble to cover the distance. She turned her back to him and watched the sea, as if she could ever ignore him.

She didn’t know what to say. It was a miracle he hadn’t realized, years ago, how she felt; it had to be written all over her face whenever she looked at him. It was inevitable, really, that he would figure it out eventually. Still, she wanted to squirm with embarrassment as she braced herself for the speech: I don’t see you like that… fuck. At least it’d be over soon.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, barely audible under the sound of the water, and she turned just as he took the final step onto the rock. He found his footing and drew a deep breath.

“What?” she blurted out.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He grimaced. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. You must think I’m a fucking creep.”

She stared at him blankly.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and heaved a sigh. “I know you don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry, I crossed a line. I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable.”

She spluttered wordlessly for a moment and then laughed, too shocked to hold it back, loud enough that he let his hands drop and looked at her with his eyes wide like a kicked puppy.

“You fucking dumbass,” she said. Her voice cracked.

With one unsteady step, she closed the gap between them, throwing him off-balance and almost knocking them both over as she grabbed him by the front of his flannel and pulled him close.

He was frozen in surprise for a moment. The first kiss was quick and clumsy, a barely-there brush of her mouth over his lower lip, exploring the curve of it, and it was just as soft as she’d always imagined.

“Oh,” he breathed.

Then his hands were pressing her closer, one at her waist, one cupping the back of her neck, and he was leaning down to kiss her properly, mouth hot and sure, hungry, fucking desperate, like maybe he’d been waiting for this, too.

She’d thought her nerve endings were on fire earlier. That was nothing, compared to the blaze wherever he touched her now: his palm on her back, his fingers tangling in her hair, the planes of his chest where she was crushed against him, his teeth nipping at her lower lip, his slick tongue dipping and probing and tasting like he was ready to devour her. He was everywhere, filling her senses, igniting something that had been smoldering in her chest for too long.

Her legs were shaking. She pulled away, just enough to suck in a breath, and almost stumbled when Sam took a half-step back too. His hand cradled her cheek, tilting her face up to meet his eyes; he looked shell-shocked.

His smile came slow at first. She watched it spread, dimples tugging, bitten-red lips curling, until his whole face was just glowing with it, with this pure sweet joy, shining too bright to look at for long.

“Dumbass,” she repeated breathlessly.

He traced her jaw with one gentle fingertip, still grinning, and nodded. “So I’ve been told.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. The earth was spinning on its axis in spite of the seismic shift in her world. A seagull shrieked overhead, waves crashed and receded, the salty breeze bit at any exposed skin, and none of it mattered. If the tide had come in, if water had risen up to her waist, she wouldn’t have noticed until she was being swept out to sea.

She thought about legends of sirens and their songs, and for a moment she sympathized with the sailors.

“Sun’s coming up,” he said. She was startled out of her reverie long enough to spare a glance at the horizon, where rays of pink and orange were lancing through the lightening sky and dancing off the waves, painting them in hues of pastel peach.

Sam’s smile outshone any sunrise she would ever see.

His eyes were sparkling, rippling with shades of green and blue and gold in the weak early-morning light, kaleidoscopic and dizzying. She could drown in those eyes, if she wasn’t careful.

She stood on tiptoe for a kiss and he leaned into it, dipping her backwards, so that she would’ve fallen without his steady hands at her waist. Her head was spinning.

“Don’t let me sink,” she whispered, and he kissed her again, long and sweet, before answering.

“If we go down, we go down together.”

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave something nice HERE!

If you want to read more of my scribbles, go HERE.

#supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #spn reader insert

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kpopbopz · 5 years

Text

min yoongi | careful what you wish for (angst trigger warning)

!!!trigger/angst warning: attempted suicide and harsh language.

disclaimer: this is a work of FICTION; purely meant for entertainment, all texts are fake and does not reflect the personality of min yoongi or any bts member.

also, if you or someone you love is feeling suicidal or in an abusive relationship, please seek help; I don’t mind talking and giving some advice but understand that I am not always available or a professional. ♥

♡.

You froze in place as you stared down at what you’ve done completely baffled with your suddenly increased capability of clumsiness. You watched as Yoongi’s keyboard malfunctioned and LED lights underneath the keys faded out. You had accidentally spilled a bottle of water all over it and you knew that once Yoongi found out, he would be beyond furious. Namjoon had been a witness to the destruction, surprised he hadn’t caused it himself, but at the same time knowing better not to go near Yoongi’s area of work, and definitely not to bring food or drinks—especially drinks—into the studio in the first place.

“Oh, no. Yoongi will kill me! Namjoon—what am I going to do?” you questioned as the instant feeling of panic was beginning to settle. Quickly you moved to get the napkins from the bag you brought, pressing feverishly down on the keyboard hoping it would revive back to life.

“Don’t worry about it Y/n,” Namjoon interrupted your thoughts, “I’m sure he’ll understand that your intentions were good.” He shrugged it off, still knowing that Yoongi was going to react with badly no matter how this looked. “Just buy him a new one and he should be fine, at least it was you of all people, he’ll have to show some mercy.”

“Okay,” you nodded, still with a distraught look on your face, trying to calculate how much money it would cost and how fast the same version of the keyboard could possibly be delivered to you. “I’ll make it up to him, I swear. Just tell him I’m sorry and that I’ll see him later, and to eat.” With that you left the studio in a hurry; you had to get home to finish up a project assignment for class and to now order a new keyboard for your boyfriend.

It wasn’t until about an hour later while you were just reading up on your research when your phone buzzed; suspecting that it was Yoongi, you read it immediately...

You bit down on your bottom lip, quickly responding in order to try to not escalate the situation more than what it needed to. The only thing you wanted was to help your boyfriend, you wanted him to stay healthy considering the long days and nights he was working in the studio; all you wanted was to help.

Holding your breath, you could only hope that he would accept your apology. He couldn’t be that mad at you for wanting him to eat. Right?

Another buzz.

You couldn’t help but feel the sharp pain in your chest at his words. You annoyed him? He knew that you were sensitive and you tried to reason with him. Yoongi was supposed to be your sweet and kind boyfriend, he was just saying this because he was angry, that’s all, right?

Sometimes he needed to be reminded where to stop before he crossed the line, so you responded once again.

You stared at your phone, watching as the bubbles popped up while he was typing. The anxiety creeping in your chest was almost unbearable, hoping that he would understand how sorry you were.

His next message appeared.

Now he was really hitting below the belt. No feelings of anger surfaced for you, just guilt and sadness. He knew that you had a hard time with your confidence and often times would fall into states of depression because of it. This was mainly because a lot of his fans would deteriorate your character and looks on social media. Constantly berating you with insults and telling you just how much you didn’t deserve Yoongi, that you were an ugly, gold-digging lowlife that should just disappear.

Usually, he would be the one that would remind you that they were wrong and you were more than that, but now it was as if all of that sweet talk was out the door. He had no remorse for what he was saying and everything he mentioned felt like it was his way of being spiteful.

You responded, wishing that he would just stop already. You didn’t want to make this anything more than what it already has become.

By this point, he didn’t realize that tears were streaming down your cheeks. Yoongi was throwing all your insecurities right back in your face as if you wanted to be this way. You couldn’t help the fact that you didn’t feel worth his time sometimes, and you felt bad every time you asked for his help. There was no way for you to know that it was bothersome for him because he always led on that he would build you up no matter what.

After your last response, you hoped that this would be the end of the discussion. It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to get a new keyboard from you, so it was completely unnecessary and rather painful that he was lashing out at you without any type of remorse.

The text messages to appear next shattered you into pieces.

I wish you would just disappear.

His words absolutely destroyed you, turning you into a bawling mess as you sat on the edge of your bed. Water stains hit your paperwork as you reread his last few messages over and over again, feeling the undeniable pain in your chest. He broke you. Of all the people in the world, Yoongi telling you to disappear was the final straw.

You couldn’t help but feel like you were a burden, on him and everyone else that constantly reminded you, no matter how hard you tried to escape. But hearing it from Yoongi, your sugar bear was proof enough that it was all true.

Barely being able to see through your tear-blurred vision, you typed your final response, apologizing and finally deciding to give him what he wanted.

For you to disappear.

With that being said, you turned off your phone, letting it fall down to your feet. The only thing going through your head was that he didn’t want you anymore. He couldn’t stand dealing with you and all the emotional baggage he claimed that you brought to this relationship. If he thought that you were that irritating and should just disappear then what was stopping you?

With tear stained cheeks, red eyes, blurred vision, and a broken demeanor, you got whatever strength you had left over to get up and go to the bathroom, searching for the strongest pills you could find.

You wouldn’t be a problem anymore, you would just disappear...

Having already closed the texts after he let out his frustrations on you, Yoongi didn’t see your very last few words to him just yet.

“I can’t believe she would even come in here. She knew that I wasn’t here. God, Y/n knew that I was taking a nap and didn’t need her help,” Yoongi was non-stop ranting to Namjoon, oblivious to just the amount of damage he had caused you because of his blinding rage. “She’s so damn annoying; how am I supposed to get my work done now?!”

“You should relax Yoongi. When she came in here earlier, she really was just checking up on you,” he shrugged it off, handing Suga a notebook and pen, “Besides, you know how clumsy I can get myself, show her some mercy. Use this anger in a positive way and just write down your lyrics the old fashioned way while she gets you a new keyboard. Lashing out on her isn’t the way to go and you know it.”

He did know that, and he was starting to feel terrible about what he said. Even though you frustrated him sometimes, he knew that your intentions were good and taking it out on you the way he did, was indeed going too far.

Yoongi took a few calming breaths before he was ready to finally apologize and hash it out, given his younger’s wise words. Lifting his phone, he was planning to text you to treat you to dinner tonight, but what he didn’t expect was to open your texts, seeing that you took him seriously in his fit of rage.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Yoongi had an alarm ringing in his head and began to rapidly type on his phone, panic beginning to settle in his chest.

It had finally started sinking in what he’s done. He slowly stood, phone in his shaky hands, waiting impatiently for you to respond.

“What’s going on?” Namjoon would speak up.

“C’mon Y/n,” Yoongi would mumble under his breath, eyes glued to his phone screen, searching for any type of sign that you were getting his texts, “Please, oh my god.” His fingers would rapidly keep typing, needing to know that you were okay.

*recommended song while reading: when the party’s over by billie eilish from this point on.*

He waited another moment, re-reading his previous texts and seeing how cruel he was to you and it brought tears to his eyes. Yoongi dialed your number, listening to the endless rings before your voicemail came through. He tried again and again, each ring sending him into a further panic.

“Joon, call 911, now! Send the ambulance to Y/n’s apartment,” his words were practically slurred because of him speaking so fast, however, Joon still managed to immediately do what he was told. “Fuck Y/n, pick up your damn phone!” Yoongi visibly was shaking, he could barely even text you with his hands trembling the way they were in absolute fear of what you could’ve done to yourself because of his carelessness.

“They’re on their way over there now,” Namjoon tore him away from his distressed state for a moment. “Do you need me to co—,” he was cut off once his hyung quickly dispersed from the studio, leaving everything behind except for his keys and phone which was still glued to his hand, quickly sending you another few texts just before getting in the car and heading toward your place himself, needing to know that you were okay.

On his way there, it would be his fifteenth time calling your phone to no avail. Somehow he managed to get there before the ambulance did. Yoongi burst into your place, screaming out for you. In his panic, he searched everywhere he could think of, seeing that your room was left empty. It wasn’t until he searched most of the apartment that he realized the only place left to look was the bathroom which was closed. Upon turning the knob, he found out that it’s locked.

“Y/n?! Y/n, baby, open the door,” he spoke to you through the door, his voice nearly cracking. Upon receiving no answer, he started to bang on the wooden surface standing between both of you. “Open the door! Y/N! Babygirl please I’m sorry, please, open the door, oh god—,” his voice would begin to crack even more than it was already, the worst possible scenarios crossing his mind. Feeling the rush of adrenaline pulse through him at the thought of your limp body, he kicked the door in, finding his absolute nightmare come true.

He fell down onto his knees, instantly cradling your unconscious body, crying above you as he held on tight to you.

“No, no, p-lease, wake u-up, please, y/n,” he would whimper, not paying attention to the distorted sound of EMTs rushing into the apartment. “Baby no, WAKE UP! Please? Please, wake up for me. I’m so so sorry.”

Yoongi was then forcefully dragged away from you, his face red and being stained with tears as he watched them check over your limp body, not knowing if he would ever get you back, not knowing if he could ever apologize and hold you again in his arms, and kiss you, and tell you how much you meant to him, and how much he didn’t mean it.

He didn’t mean it when he said to disappear, and now seeing that he broke you to the point where you would actually want to leave him like this, broke him too.

“Please y/n..”

part two.

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letbarbieshavedragons · 4 years

Text

Fact: Daenerys doesn’t deserve the hate she gets

It actually blows my mind how vehement and down right spiteful the hatred for Daenerys is. Like I can understand not liking her or simply being apathetic. Everyone has different taste in characters and I can definitely see how Dany’s idealism and hot headedness could turn people away. I personally don’t usually go for the hot headed idealist myself. And she’s made mistakes for sure, maybe they bother some people more than others, or maybe the white savior elements in her story bother some people too much. These are all fair criticisms and I’d understand why they might turn someone away from her.

But honeslty what has she done to incur such extreme animosity against her? Like I’ve seen people defend slavers and slavery simply bc they hate her so much. Personally attack and harass people simply for liking her charcter. Call Dany fans supporters of genocide and racist and colonizers. Say Missandei deserved her fate bc she defended Dany. Actively want Jon to use her for her army and abandon her when he doesn’t need it anymore. And thats just the tip of this shitberg.

As I said, I understand being indifferent, I understand not liking her. But I can’t understand what she has done to earn all this spite. Her objective for like three books now has been to end literal slavery. And she was a child bride for the first book. The second book she has nothing but a starving khalasar and three also starving baby dragons. How is she the most controversial character in this show? How is she more controversial than Jaime Lannister who is not only fucking his twin sister, but also had three kids with her who they pretended were her husbands, and pushed a child out of a window just to keep that a secret. Than his father, Tywin who literally wiped a family from existence simply to make a point. Than Randall fucking Tarly who threatened to murder his own son simply bc he didn’t like him all that much.

It just blows my mind every time. In any other series I could understand, Dany makes some bold moves and not all of them were the right ones, but this is Game of Thrones, this is a Song of Ice and Fire. This is a story where most of the characters motives are for their own self interest. Usually power glory or gold, with a strong helping of vengeance thrown in. Daenerys’ drive seems almost comically guileless for a world like this.

God this is why so many Dany fans pull the misogyny card when talking to or about antis. Contrary to popular belief, It’s not bc we all think simply not liking her is misogynistic. Most of us don’t care if someone doesn’t like Daenerys. It’s the pure vitriol spat at her on a daily basis that just sets our hairs on end. The endless metas that demonize her and theorize (with barely hidden glee) the worst deaths for her. Something in my stomach just curdles when I see so many people so openly and enthusiastically wish for the downfall of the most iconic and inspirational female character of the decade. A charcter who the author himself has acknowledged has noble intentions and just wants to do what’s right.

And I don’t want to hear some garbage about the last two ep, those (and the rest of season 8) have already been universally acknowledged as nonesensical and ooc bullshit (even by a good chunk of Daenerys critics) plus this rhetoric was around way before s8 even aired.

#daenerys targaryen #got #asoiaf

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thatbangtanbloom · 5 years

Text

Dionysus | jhs

dionysus | jhs

characters: hoseok x reader

au(s): greek god!au, historical!au

categories: angst, fluff, lots of tension

word count: 2,013

For as long as he could remember, Jung Hoseok was taught the grand distinction between the gods and the mortals. It was a once in an epoch phenomenon, to cross paths with someone as rare as Dionysus (the immortal name that his father had bestowed upon him); someone simultaneously both within and without; to exist as both a god and a human. This duality of nature prompted Hoseok to a childhood of hardships. Before the time that he could hold a kylix* in his hand, his father had told him of his mother, Semele, who had burned to a crisp the second she saw Zeus (Hoseok’s father) in his truest form. This was the first time Hoseok realized that he was to be untalked of, unseen, and unloved.

Hoseok still recalls being looked down upon by his many brothers and sisters for being the very breed that his father governed and ridiculed for being ‘too’ human. Athena laughed when he bled from falling from Mount Olympus. Apollo scolded him for his humanly movements when he stroke his harp. Artemis scoffed when his actions were too in-deliberate and Heracles expressed disconcert for his lack of strength.

Hoseok did not expect to be admired by anyone as he grew older. His younger, much more vulnerable years were marred by the criticism of his siblings and the hateful vengeance of his step-mother (or step-witch, at times, Hoseok didn’t know what the difference was). He found himself growing more drawn to the rhythmic lilts of music, often paired with the toxic effects of inebriation that allowed for him to feel more at home. Those two things accompanied him to the edge and granted him his title as god of wine and patron of the arts. But a lesser known fact would have been that he was a patron of you, as well.

You were small, insignificant, a mere mortal that a god would not pay attention to. You did not have much to your name; nothing but an arranged marriage with a local village boy named Jungkook, and more movement that a woman of your class, stature, hell, era should have had. Your father called you everything short but of a perfect daughter and you knew that you likely scared your husband-to-be with each time he saw the movement of your hips in broad daylight.

Everyone would have beseech you to stop.

Everyone, that is, but Jung Hoseok.

Hoseok admired the courage you took, the confidence and poise that you held while balancing your own free will. While he was never one to take women to the woods to join his cult (despite it being what he was infamous for), he found himself wishing that one day you would fall into the palm of his hand.

It was almost as though he could not pinpoint it - was it admiration? Adoration? Infatuation? Obsession? As he resided over Mount Olympus, watching over you like a preoccupied guardian, he found his attachment growing more and his insatiable desires (or lust? Hoseok never knew these things) that always drew himself back to you.

“Have you heard of the Cult of Dionysus?” Agafya asks you from beside the riverbed as you stare out into the thin confines of water. You have always hated the way that you were pigeonholed into society; expected to marry, expected to produce children, expected to have no dreams outside of making sure your husband satisfied his.

You nod, not paying attention to her as you dip your toes into the cold water. It’s freezing, almost suffocating your ankles with the iciness, but you feel that it somehow feels better compared to how you feel above water.

Agafya rubs her arm nervously as she notices your disinterest. “I have heard from the other villagers that his presence has been felt in the woods.. I fear that he grows near.. Y/N, what shall we do?”

“What can we do if he is as irresistible as they say he is?” You reply with a raised brow. “Who are we to defy the fate of the gods when they have so generously given us a haven to exist on?” You ask with a scoff.

Agafya’s frown deepens at your apathetic attitude. “Do you not remember the oracle and your story? YN! You should be the most afraid of all… you are susceptible when you are not under the influence of the god’s divine drink! Have you no shame that he may… covet you without so much as lifting a finger?”

The mention of the oracle makes your skin crawl. It had been the final nail in the coffin to how your parents intended you be wed off to a sensible, strong man. As the story goes, you would follow the fate as other foolish women entangled with the gods did - to be a divine gift, another crown jewel for Zeus, Hera would see for your immediate end.

But unlike them, you refused to believe in such things. Why would you not choose your own autonomy when you choose to wash your face, brush your hair, read, and cook for yourself every morning? What was the difference in autonomy with choosing life over death? You knew the values of the gods - the misconstrued reasoning that often plagued them and their tendency of fooling mortals. But not you, you would not be blinded by the materialistic riches or the lustrous desires. You knew yourself better than that.

“His father converted a mortal.Do you think he would make a mistake to grant a child who is no immortal at all?”You click your tongue before shaking your head. “No man, whether god or not has the reason, charisma, or persuasion to me to do things that go against my value. If anything, he ought to be afraid of me who walks this Earth.”

And little did you know, Hoseok was laughing to himself. He was, in fact, very afraid of you. Or rather, afraid to the degree of which he would find himself tripping over you (in a total god manner, of couse). He pondered on how to approach you, of what means he should do it. Would you fall for his immortal charm? Be blinded by his smile to the point where your eyes could no longer see the sun? Or should he have taken a card from his father’s deck and came in disguise?

“Dionysus… he is here…” Is the first thing you hear in the market as you finish paying for the last of your grapes. You almost find yourself smiling, watching the men who tried to dictate your life scatter in collecting their wives, sisters, and daughters, as though it would protect them from the inevitable.

You do not know the feeling that you find yourself experiencing. Is it pride? Happiness? Euphoria? There is an unnatural swell in your chest, a twinging feeling around your heart. Something in you is yelling, screaming, to enter the forest. For a split second,you question if it is a figure of your imagination. Then the next second, you realize you hear a noise.

The noise is barely above a pin drop, the slightest melody from a flute.

Dionysus’s flute.

Hoseok’s flute.

And for the second time, you find yourself smiling more.

The first person to try to drag you to the house is Agafya, eager to keep you safe through the bustle of the crowd. Her curly brown locks are a mess on her head as she pulls you behind her, running towards her house. It’s a monstrous scene, how women stand upright and walk through the front door, their peplos* dresses barely hugging their figures as they make a slow but strong descent to the forest.

“YN….Why do you walk so slow? Don’t you know that his influence is pervasive? These words may be my last to you!” Agafya screams as she pulls on your arm, nearly falling to the ground to pull you. “Can you not see that you are under his mass influe-”

You do not hear anymore of her. She almost dissipates into dust when your eyes fall on his figure.

He is taller and more beautiful than you could ever imagine. His eyes look as though they hold the secrets to a thousand worlds and his gaze pierces through you. You can barely make the sublime smirk that crosses on his face.

“My.. my… my.. It is the one that I have waited for,” Dionsyus - Hoseok - purrs to you in a tone that could reduce you to nothing more but a pool of adoration for him. “Do you think that this is our first meeting or our last?”

“If I am the one that you have waited for, I wish that you would have chosen to make an appearance earlier.” You retort and Hoseok nearly chokes at your response. You were everything that he could ever imagine; intelligent, brilliant, witty, and beautiful. He wonders if the gods have looked favorably upon him for once.

Hoseok finds himself smirking at your words, “I think that our crossing paths is a providence of the universe. It is not often that a mortal has the will, let alone strength to speak to me in such a manner.”

“I could say the same of you… It is not often that an immortal has the intelligence, let alone the brashness to speak to me in such a manner.” You reply with a soft smile before tilting your hands to the side. “Is this a cause of religious celebration? Of sacrifice, my god?”

He stares at you for a moment, almost in awe of your presence and he wonders if you are the divine and he is a worshiper. He thinks that the roles should be reversed when you manage to command a room, to command him without spite, without malicious intent.

“I think that our meeting is a divine interaction,” He lilts in a soft tone as he takes a seat on his chair. It is the first time you notice the pure whiteness of the room that is intersected by the gold trim of the edge of the desk, of the chair, of the table. “You have heard the story of the oracle, surely?”

“I have.” You say simply as you take in his appearance. The white is the same shade of pure dianthus caryophyullus flowers, or in simpler terms, carnations. It complements the honey brown that protrudes from the collar of his shirt.

“And you are not afraid?” He asks as he leans forward to pour you a glass of wine. The smell is intoxicating and you find yourself growing faint just at the sight of it.

You smile sweetly and it is from then on that Hoseok knows that he is a goner. “I think it is reasonable for you to fear our end as much as I do.”

“Does fate not scare you? I am sure you know as well as I that our story is ill-fated by the stars. While I have found myself in awe of you, I do not find myself afraid of losing it all as long as I find myself able to be with you in the presence, YN.” He whispers your name like a prayer and you wonder if this is real.

“Scare? Yes. Deter? No.” is your humble reply when his eyes finally meet yours. When his eyes meet yours, it is almost as though you can see a thousand other lifetimes with him. An intangible culmination of love, life, deception, and regret all rolled into one and all Hoseok does is smile.

He smiles because he knows that the ends may not justify the means. He smiles because he knows that perhaps you are willing to risk it all like he does, to risk it all like the Muses have destined and you wonder to what extent that this is the end. Until you realize, perhaps this is not the end, but the beginning.

- - - - -

* Terms:

-kylix: traditional Greek drinking cup

- peplos: delegated wear for Greek women in ancient Greece

- - - - -- - - - -

I really like this idea.... Perhaps I could turn this into a series! Tell me what you think! Feel free to ask questions or leave your thoughts. Don’t be a silent reader!

xx,

thatbangtanbloom

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indiavolowetrust · 4 years

Text

Carajillo II

SUMMARY: The sequel to Carajillo, which you can read here. A coup d'etat has been staged in the Celestial Realm. The human proposes a plan to halt the impending war.

Part One: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Part Two: Coming Soon!

Part Three: Coming Soon!

TW: Blood, Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Mention of Rape

PART ONE: CHAPTER FIVE

The angel scrutinizes us with rather uncomfortable, long pauses, seemingly content with taking note of every aspect of our appearances. I can’t help but stare back, meeting his suspicious gaze with an equally exasperated one of my own. Aside from that, the expression is unbecoming of his kind. The angel is a rather lanky, graceless creature, possessing a physique that would be more at home on a scribe than a domestic servant. Hardly worth a meal for a demon, if I were ever forced to devour him. And then there is the matter of his irritating habit. His eyes linger a moment too long on Maria as he assesses her, suggesting an unprofessional intent. Maria simply stares back.

I stifle the vexation that threatens to make itself known on my features.

“You two are from the, ah, sixth district?” He looks at our forged forms, his fierce scrutinization regressing into something more quizzical. “You two don’t really look like --”

“We’re not from there originally,” Maria says quickly, cutting him off. “And he’s -- I’m his adopted sister. I just thought it would be easier if I wrote that down.”

The interviewer says nothing at that. I regret letting Lord Diavolo forge our papers for us.

“Strange name,” he remarks. He gestures with his chin at me before Maria can speak, the vestiges of suspicion apparent in the momentary glance. “Not you. Him. Your -- sorry, his -- mother thought Boris was an appropriate name for an angel of the sixth district? I don’t think I’ve ever anyone with a name like that. You sure you two are from there?”

“Like I said, we’re --”

“If our forms have been deemed acceptable, would it not be logical for us to be given our duties?�� I step forward in front of Maria, obscuring her from the angel’s gaze. In spite of our positions -- the pretense of a lesser angel seeking work in Sanctum, the grand heart of the Celestial Realm -- I find myself giving the creature a withering look, nearly glaring at the uptight angel. He fidgets awkwardly. “My sister has a rather weak constitution. The sooner she can start, the more useful she will be.”

The angel startles slightly, despite the carefulness of my movements. “It’s protocol. We can’t just let anyone in.”

“And protocol demands that you waste each applicant’s time with incessant questions?”

I stand only an inch or two above the angel, limiting the effect of my persuasion -- but it is enough. It takes twelve seconds for the angel to decide against arguing, the creature turning away with a huff, and then it is only four seconds for him to reach the door. Two seconds for him to call out to some unseen angel, thirty-three seconds for the previously unseen angel to escort Maria away to her newfound duty, and three seconds for him to look at me silently, perhaps considering giving me a tongue-lashing later for stepping out of line.

Regardless of whatever his thoughts may be, he gestures for me to follow him out of the interview room. Given that I have neither the ability nor the appetite to devour the angel, I do so.

It had been an easier process for Maria. As a soul with ties to neither the Celestial Realm nor the Devildom. partaking in Lord Diavolo’s family heirloom was little more than an outward change in form. A mere shift in her appearance. The ease of her process was expected, of course, considering the nature of the anomalous flora. The vivid crimson skin of the apple had yielded easily beneath her teeth as she bit into it, the blood-red juice staining her lips. It had squirmed only for a moment, the flesh pulsing much as one would expect of a heart, and then it had stopped. The fruit of Lord Diavolo’s family heirloom had simply withered away in her hands, the pretense she had chosen for her appearance overtaking her form.

The Apple of Lies, mockery of the Celestial Realm as it was, had not been so kind to me. I had imagined the image of an angel: something bright and brilliant and obnoxious. The flesh had scorched me from within as if it had been borne from the Celestial Realm itself.

I nearly flinch at my own reflection as the angel leads me through the expansive corridors, an unfamiliar man regards me from within the marble. Unobtrusive verdant eyes, a mop of black hair, and fair, nearly human skin. A pure white worker’s uniform, despite assignment in Sanctum’s kitchens, and an equally monochromatic pair of shoes.

The angel continues to lead me past the end of the hall, the marble stopping at a particularly massive column. The unfamiliar man is gone.

The sunlight nearly blinds me when we step away from the inner halls, my pupils unused to the light, but the angel either does not care to stop or sees no need for it. I stand in place for a moment, blinking once. Twice. The unwelcome intrusion still plagues my vision after I do so, and it is a moment before I can see clearly once more. Before I can register the image that lies before me.

I pause at the sight.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” The angel remarks, coming to stand beside me. He laughs at my astonishment, my previous outburst seemingly forgotten. “The young empress herself commissioned for it to be built. I don’t rightly know if it holds a candle to the original, but it seems pretty damned close.”

His observation is only partially correct. The entirety of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon would never be able to fit into such a small place -- especially not wedged into the center of Sanctum -- but the resemblance is uncanny. Almost excruciatingly so. The previous demon king had stood by my side then, the prince a mere fledgling at the time. The towers of the great city of Babylon had loomed before us, the clamor of its people echoing deep into the night. The old king had hungered for the blood and power of the One Who Hungers, relying on my assistance in the human world, but I could not tear my eyes away from something so wondrous. For the first time, I had considered humans to be more than animals -- for what animal could create something so beautiful?

Aside from that, the presence of the replica indicates --

“My Lady!” the angel suddenly exclaims.

My thoughts cut themselves short. I turn around immediately.

The angel is a tall, stately creature, possessing skin as white as snow, hair the color of alabaster, and pink, unfocused pupils. They waver slightly as she regards the kneeling angel before her, the tips of her long fingers pressed to his lips. Despite the angel all but prostrating himself before her, the creature’s expression remains wholly indiscernible. Impassive, perhaps, if one took only her lack of response into consideration. Her entourage -- presumably, her flock of guards -- stands some distance behind her. The layers of white and silver robes rustle slightly when the angel finally releases her hand, the angel’s need to please almost sickening. She frowns almost imperceptibly.

The empress, I realize.

“What brings you here today, my Lady?” asks the angel, finally rising from his position. “Would you like a tour of the garden? A cup of tea to soothe your spirits?”

“Neither,” she replies. “I only saw fit to check on the state of the garden.”

The angel straightens at that, his enthusiasm rolling off his body in waves. “Oh, yes! I’ve assigned only the best of the best to tend to the garden day and night, my Lady. You can find no finer talent than in the walls of Sanctum, I can assure you of that.”

Her eyes flicker briefly to mine. The unfocused nature of her pupils do little to dull the sharpness of her gaze.

“And this one?”

“This one?” the angel echoes.

She scrutinizes me from afar, despite her clear lack of adequate vision. “Yes, that one,” she says. “I assume that one is here to work on the gardens as well.”

“Ah, no, my Lady. We merely picked him and his sister up today to place more staff in the kitchen and stables.” He spares only a dismissive glance towards me, making no effort to hide the irritation on his face. Still, her attention does not divert from me. “He is but a lowly --”

“Nonsense.” Her tone is scathing, cutting off the angel. He winces. The fair creature passes by the angel without a second glance, her entourage moving to follow close behind, and it is only moments before she stands in front of me. “All celestial beings are equal in the new era, no matter the circumstances of their birth,” she says. Her eyes blaze with a righteous fire. “Tell me, divine one, what is your name? From which district do you hail?”

I bow my head respectfully. “Boris, my Lady. I hail from the sixth district.”

She smiles. “A wonderful name. We have much work to do in the sixth district -- I do apologize for that -- but be rest assured that no one is considered lesser here. We are but divine brothers and sisters, are we not? All are equals in the eyes of the Divinity.”

Her layered robes are a whisper against the marble when she leaves, her pale form disappearing down the sunlit hall. The golden armor of her entourage clinks as they follow suit, the guards treading lightly against the polished floors. Like the pale creature, they, too, seem to become formless in the light.

The angel whirls around to regard me with vexation. “You imbecile!” he cries. “How dare you not bow before our esteemed Lady! If -- if that were me, I would have strung you up by your limbs! I --”

The angel’s empty threats and berating comments continue nearly the rest of the way to Sanctum’s kitchens, any thoughts or analyses I could have conjured interrupted by the angel’s shrill voice. The presence of bright, jarring sunlight and monochromatic marble and gold each way we turn does little to help the matter.

Silently, I make a note to devour him later. If necessary, of course.

* * *

It is seven hours, fifty-four minutes, and thirty seconds before I am able to depart unseen from the servants’ quarters, given the night rounds of Sanctum’s guards. I am glad for the wait. The darkness of the night is a welcome change to the insufferable brightness of the day. The warmth of the sun had nearly burned off my skin. The true cuisine of the Celestial Realm -- namely, those made with ingredients considered indigestible for demons -- had all but scorched my throat and stomach as I forced myself to swallow the given fare, the divine nature of the food burning me from the inside out. Handling such purely divine produce in the kitchen had seared off the palms of my hands, my natural rejuvenation slowed by the very air of the Celestial Realm, and even now I can feel the throbbing, aching pain. Despite the outward effects of the Apple of Lies, my body is still that of a demon. I can feel my constitution weakening with nearly every hour I spend in this sun-blighted place, the composition of my being slowly but surely tearing itself apart. Demons are not meant to live, much less thrive, in such a domain.

I can only imagine that Maria fares no better. Her weak constitution has likely done little to lend itself to the hard labor of being a laundress. While the implementation of more modern applications have likely lessened the strain on her body, the insufferable nature of the steward does little to ease my worries. As one of the lowest servants in Sanctum, Maria is more than likely being worked to the bone.

I tap the seconds out on my bandaged hands as I wait for Maria to arrive. Sixty seconds, one hundred and twenty seconds, one hundred and eighty seconds. Two hundred and forty seconds, three hundred seconds, three hundred and sixty seconds. The sound of the guards reverberates against the ground some distance away, alerting me to their presence, but there is no reason to make myself scarce. Not at the moment. Given the distance and the estimated time it would take for the guards to arrive within a questionable distance, Maria and I are in no danger of being discovered. A rather rough estimation by my standards, considering the Celestial Realm’s negative effects on my physiology and senses, but it is likely of little consequence. Even if we are, I can imagine that a nightly rendezvous is rather common in the walls of Sanctum.

Maria, as I had predicted, arrives in ten minutes and twenty seconds. The midnight-blue cloak does well to mask her figure against the great walls, allowing her to move as a shadow in the darkness, but it is her diminutive frame that gives her away. A stray curl slips out from her cloak before she can pull back the hood. Five seconds and eleven milliseconds later, her eyes widen at the sight of my nearly obscured form in against the storehouse. She moves with short, quick steps towards me, taking her place beside me.

I frown at her. “You’re late.”

“I -- I know,” she says sheepishly, her voice only slightly above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know if they would find me.”

“You’re a laundress. I’m sure they wouldn’t see it as anything out of the ordinary.”

She raises a brow. “At this hour? How would that not be suspicious? Where would they even think I was going?”

“To a tryst, perhaps.”

Her cheeks color. Given the soft haze of moonlight, the wildness of her curls against her visage, and her strangely lively disposition, it is a truly lovely sight.

“That’s -- they wouldn’t fall for that,” she protests with indignation, a hand rising to her cheek. It stops halfway -- a realization of habit, I presume -- and she settles for giving me a halfhearted glare. I stare back in response, stifling the teasing smile that threatens to appear on my features. “And aren’t we getting a little off topic?”

“We have more than enough time. The nearest guard is quite a distance away.” It is not a complete lie. I pause long enough to watch Maria repress a sigh. “The kitchens are connected to both the servants’ quarters and the inner chambers of Sanctum. I had little reason and time to explore the area, but a day or so should be enough.”

She nods. “That’s good. I think the laundry room and storage areas are all like that. Like they’re all connected, somehow. I tried to head down one of the halls, but the head laundress -- she yelled at me before I could get far enough. Anything else?”

An image of the alabaster angel flickers across my thoughts. “I met her.”

“Who?”

“The empress. She was on her way to the center of Sanctum when the steward and I found her.” Maria gives me a confused look, and I make an effort to explain further. “I believe you’ll have no difficulty recognizing her once you set your eyes upon her. She’s a tall, colorless creature.”

“That -- that can’t be right,” she says. “According to the head laundress, the empress was supposed to be in her quarters all day.”

“It is no trouble for an empress to move about of her own volition.”

Maria shakes her head at that. “Yes, but -- you said she was tall, right?”

“I did.”

“Then that can’t possibly be true. The clothes that I washed today looked like they were made for someone almost as short as I am.” She furrows her brows, thinking. “Maybe you have the wrong person?”

“I doubt it,” I respond, the memories of the steward’s unparalleled groveling coming to the surface. I nearly grimace at the thought. “Unless she is only a high-ranking noble, I have little reason to believe that creature was anyone but the empress.”

She sighs. “At least, we have -- what -- nine days to finish up here? Twelve, maybe. We’ve got enough for now.”

“That’s rather optimistic, isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s better than nothing. I don’t remember much from when I was limbo, but I do remember -- no, I know there was a heart of some kind.” A hand lifts to her temple, as if warding off some oncoming headache. Her visage gathers in concentration. “There was something very important here, but I -- I just can’t remember what. Important enough to drag us all the way here, at least.”

“I would hope so.” In spite of myself, I can’t help but deadpan. The irritated look on her face -- something other than feigned politeness or discomfort -- is worth it. “We are at the heart of enemy territory, if that’s what you meant to say.”

She frowns. “Well, that’s not very nice of you.”

“They would sooner have our heads than allow us to leave. Perhaps even have us drawn and quartered.”

A quiet moment passes between us, the horror showing vividly on her features. I realize that I may have gone a bit too far.

Then she is drawing her cloak around her small body, barely disguising a shiver -- but her expression is more than enough to put me at ease. For what seems to be the first time since her return to the Devildom, the barrier that I have incited between us has completely vanished. Her expression is completely devoid of that reluctance and distance that has governed her actions for the past few weeks. I can see through her once more, discerning the emotions that lie just beneath the surface. Certain indignation, visible horror, and traces of disgust. Fear and trepidation of the future that might come. Concern over the fragile balance between all three realms.

And then there is mirth. There is an undeniable, warm mirth and humor that sparkles in her dark eyes, illuminating her features more than the false moon ever could. She smiles.

Maria turns much too quickly, intending to take her leave. Effectively ending the intimacy between us. “We should follow the leads that we have before we lose them,” she says over her shoulder. “As long as --”

A sound catches my attention. I nearly curse.

I wrap my bandaged hand over Maria’s mouth before she can cry out, dragging her elsewhere into the shadows. Her small feet kick uselessly in the air in response, muffled protests nearly audible through my fingers -- but a sharp look persuades her otherwise. I gesture wordlessly with my gaze in the direction of the path.

A Sanctum guard walks past some five seconds later, the metal soles of their shoes inciting a noticeable clamor as they do appear within sight. A clamor that I had not been able to detect, despite the proximity of the guard. They stand under one of the great crystalline lights, twirling their spear with a flourish. It meets the ground with tangible impact, nearly startling Maria. I only continue to press my fingers against her mouth. Her feet dangle some distance from the ground, and I do my best to support the rest of her body. It is only when she truly catches sight of the guard that she ceases all movement, her eyes growing wide.

This one is considerably larger than the others. Seemingly more capable, judging by the precision and ease of their movement. Their skin appears to have been carved from marble, the pieces of gold and silver armor all but infused onto their body. A pair of massive, obnoxiously golden wings are folded at their back, further adding to their height, and the creature’s form seems to emanate light from within. A halo sits some distance from their shoulders, blazing in the darkness of the night. While I have little knowledge on the caste system of the angels, it requires little deductive skill to determine this particular angel’s standing. Their arms and legs are embedded with sapphire and other precious stones, indicating the angel’s rank. Their neck -- at least, what would serve as a neck -- swivels about. Despite their clear lack of a head, the Sanctum guard seems to fare well enough.

I press the both of us further into the shadows, willing our forms to melt into the marble behind us. Maria’s heartbeat races, signalling her panic, but I do not dare release her mouth. The slightest noise would give away our position. And so we are forced to wait long, arduous seconds, time crawling at an excruciating pace.

Six seconds pass. The Sanctum guard leans casually against their spear, all too willing to to settle into place.

Twenty-one seconds pass. The Sanctum guard continues to scan the area, scrutinizing the darkness.

Thirty-nine seconds pass. The Sanctum guard stands almost perfectly still. Waiting.

Two minutes and ten seconds pass. The Sanctum guard makes themselves scarce, apparently content with abandoning their quarry. I wait another minute before releasing Maria’s mouth, still holding her against me, and she merely collapses against my arms. She is quiet for a few moments.

“They followed us here,” she finally whispers, the fear coating her voice. Maria looks up at me with wide, frightened eyes. “They -- they knew we were going to be here and --”

“Maybe not ‘we,’” I say, interrupting her before she can rouse herself into a greater panic. My eyes search the visible gap between the wall and the storehouse, searching for the angel’s outline. I find nothing. “It seems the angel was only looking for suspicious activity. Evidence of some kind.”

“Other than that steward, there’s no one else who could have tipped us off. He’s the only one who --” She pauses, sighing. Gathering her thoughts. “We should meet elsewhere next time. Not tomorrow. Choosing to meet by the storehouse was too obvious.”

“Indeed.”

Her body relaxes in my embrace. It is only now that I realize the intimacy of our position. Her small body, despite her state, is somehow warm and inviting, sparking a blaze within me. Her mass of curls is pressed against my chest, her head a distance away from my shoulders. My arms are wrapped snugly around her small waist, the rest of her form following suit. I revel in the sensation, despite myself. Basking in her strange warmth. I can almost pretend that there exists no barriers between us, that I had not spoiled our friendship in the worst ways possible.

And then it is gone.

She pushes herself off me with an unexpected amount of force, stumbling in the aftermath. Maria quickly obscures her features with her hood, the fabric creating a shadow, and she regards me for only a moment. I stare back in confusion.

“The laundry room of the lower floors,” she says, turning away from me. “There’s a relief of one of the archangels by it. We’ll meet in two days.”

I find myself reaching for her before I know it, intending to take her by the hand -- but I grasp at nothing. Only the slightest hint of her cloak brushes against my fingers, a stray curl wisping away in the air. She leaves the vicinity just as quickly as she had arrived. I am left alone in the darkness, wanting.

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me barbatos x oc #obey me mc x barbatos #obey me oc x barbatos #obey me fanfic #obey me writing #fanfic #writing #carajillo ii #obey me!

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jkbec · 5 years

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wíckєd gαmєs (M).

genre ➙ Mafia!au: horror, angst, romance + smut — words ➙ 25.5k — pairing➙ jeon Jungkook x female reader

reupload from old account.

Playlist - spotify

Warning; Illicit narcotic use, Dom! Jungkook, public indecency, murder, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (female receiving and male receiving), mentions of mental illness, domestic violence, reckless law-breaking behaviour, explicit language and scenes.

"It's the fifth murder this month. The victim… a young woman in her early twenty's. She, unfortunately, has been murdered in the exact same fashion as the rest of the homicide victims we've been having this month. Sliced at the vital points of her neck, with a large ‘X' carved in the centre of her chest as well as the mutilation of her body. The killer is extremely intelligent, clean and précised with his killing methods. This person knows what they are doing and are incredibly good at it. You need to pick up the pace and find a lead on this investigation (L/N) were losing too many innocent lives."

5:00 am illuminates on your digital bedside alarm clock. Your eyes droop as you frown bitterly at the realisation that you once again had a sleepless night consisting of overthinking and binge-watching crime documentaries on YouTube. The aches in your neck and back from staying in a slouched position too long makes you groan in agony. The stresses obtained from your field of work is rapidly catching up to you, as you make your start to your day by washing your face, brushing your teeth and swiping on large amounts of concealer under your eyes as you could to minimise the tiredness and exhaustion you physically felt by your visibly dark circles and eye bags. The ringing in your ears and painful swelling in your chest seems to be worsening as you blankly stare at your reflection through the fingerprint-smudged bathroom mirror in front of you.

"I am happy to you inform Miss (L/N) that the symptoms you have been experiencing these past few months are common physical aspects of a panic attack or anxiety. You also seem to have some swelling in your chest which is something I would identify as Costochondritis. " The silence is almost deafening as you gape up at the doctor in complete shock. The agony you have been feeling in your head, joints, muscles and chest were all just from anxiety? The doctor examines your test results assertively smiling down at you.

"So basically…You’re telling me that I'm not dying- just severely anxious?" You ask feeling completely hopeless at the realisation you had been overthinking about your health for absolutely nothing. “I swear that I am not a hypochondriac!”

The doctor chuckles at your outburst as he faces you while holding out your medical records. You take them from him gently and scan through the information on the sheets of paper.

"Yes. I can tell you confidently that you are in fact not dying and are experiencing the physical symptoms of anxiety." He smiles reassuringly at you.

"I-I…oh-um so like can you help me like not feel like this?-"

"-The most I can do for you is refer you to see a psychologist or prescribe you with some antidepressants medication…is there anything happening in your life that is particularly stressful and is taking up a lot of your time and energy?"

"No. I-No, not really."

"Well, just by looking at you I can see that you are mentally and physically exhausted. I would take it easy for time being and maybe take a week off from work to give your body the proper rest and relaxation it deserves. As for the Costochondritis just take some ibuprofen along with some hot and cold therapy on the muscles."

"Taking time off work is something that's just not going to happen any time soon…" You mumble to yourself quietly as you fight back tears. Your grip on your cold bathroom basin tightens until your knuckles turn white. Your fresh mascara smudging slightly under your eyes. "Oh, that's just great." Your breath hitches in your throat, as you struggle to look at your reflection in the mirror. Never, in your years of living have you ever been as stressed as you were now. The struggle of adulthood is illustrated through your whole day-to-day routine of getting little to no sleep and running on caffeinated drinks. As you fight to solve case after case. Hard work, motivation and praises are becoming repetitive as you battle with other detectives to keep your position and remain where you currently were at your agency.

You were fortunate enough to land a stable job at a detective agency which paid really well and offered you enough experience to really rank up in the field. You always had a deep passion for justice and knew you were capable of working in this field of work, even though some of the shit you've seen over the years really did fuck you up mentally. The gruesome scenes of decapitated bodies, pools of blood and rotting corpses were just some things that took a while to get used to. You had always considered yourself to be mentally and physically capable of handling the more intense cases but there were a lot of very dangerous people out there with very horrible intentions and even worse actions. Your boss Kim Namjoon is a perfectionist, who expects nothing but the best from his colleagues when responding to cases. You have learned a lot from Namjoon and considered him to be someone you looked up to and respected. However, he is also the reason for your horrible anxiety and stress.

When it came to Namjoon everything had to be sorted in perfect order, every opinion had to carry sophistication and certainty. You wake up at the butt crack of dawn to make sure you put together, researching, examining and investigating. You are not someone to kiss ass to rank up in positions. If you were going to show your worth it will be done through hard work and dedication. You were clearly overworking yourself but you needed to put in the extra effort to do your job to the best of your abilities. Although, perfection is Kim Namjoon and perfection is something you desired to obtain. To prove yourself even further you needed to find the infamous killer circling the media and your detective office. Namjoon trusted your ability as a detective to crack this case. However, never in your years of experience as a detective have you ever come across such a careful and well calculated, cold-blooded killer.

"Just by observing the way these unfortunate victims have been killed by this ruthless killer indicates that the killer has knowledge on human anatomy." Kim Namjoon points directly at the disfigured images of the murderer's victims on his pinboard. The atmosphere in the meeting room is instantly tense as your co-workers grimly peer at the images some with curiosity, horror or just pure disgust.

You inhale and exhale as you pat down your hair and lightly rub under your eyes in a pathetic attempt to clean the smudged mascara under your eyes and calm down your racing heart. "You got this (Y/N). Relax." You repeatedly chant to yourself as you glance down at your wristwatch. “Shit! I’m gonna miss my train!” You exclaim in panic as you hastily slide on your clothes before speeding off and making your way towards your station. “I can’t believe my car still getting fixed.” You grumble as you continue to power walk, just making it in time for your train.

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"Young Master Jeon welcome back! How was your trip to Dubai?" An older butler at the Jeon residence asks with politeness as he bows elegantly at the young bachelor who is twirling the keys to his custom black Koenigsegg CCXR in his right hand as his other is in his expensive black suit pants.

"Hm. Average." He spoke blankly as he watches his servants bow to him with courtesy in two perfectly straight lines stretching from both sides of his mansions front door. The servants become stiff in his presence, the atmosphere in the large mansion immediately becoming thick with dread and spitefulness. "Are you hungry Master?" An older butler questions with classiness, making the chefs straighten up and gawk at Jungkook with distress. “We just brought in beautiful fresh lobster tails imported from Japan this morning, Master.” A chef states impulsively as he takes a cautious step forward, face filled with fear. “O-Or! We have some exquisite Australian Beef! We can-” The chef falls short with his outburst as Jungkook’s expression quickly becomes sour. Jungkook peers at his servants in annoyance as he ruffles his hair in slight agitation. "No. Where's my father?" The butler nods his head in a mixture of both relief and understanding before pointing sophisticatedly towards the large flight of stairs located at the centre of the mansion. "He's at his office speaking to a potential client at the moment." Sighing with pure frustration he places both his hands on his hips. His luxury car key dangling in his left hand.

"Well when he's done, tell him I'll be going out tonight and I won't be home until early morning." Jungkook spat with arrogance while continuing to twirl his car keys in his hands, before turning around to walk up the long flight of marble stairs completely dismissing the butlers, maids and chefs that bow to him as he makes his getaway.

"As you wish Master."

With that, he is gone. As if he never arrived home in the first place. "Which car are we taking tonight JK?" Park Jimin murmurs as he slides another Laguna beach ring on his slender fingers while he smirks up at Jungkook through the pure gold embraided mirror in Jeon Jungkook's room. "I was thinking of taking out my matte black Lambo or Lykan Hypersport but we can take the Maserati GranTurismo and be more casual if you want." Jungkook murmurs as he fastens his Louie Vuitton cufflink, smirking up at Jimin as he rolls up his sleeves, outlining his muscles from underneath his white dress shirt. Jimin bites his plump lips as he hovers his delicate index finger over all twelve of Jungkook’s car keys laid out in front of him. "Hm." He hums as he sneers up at Jungkook before picking up a car key, throwing it to him. Jungkook chuckles and lifts up his right hand swiftly catching the keys with a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Lamborghini it is."

The engine roars as Jungkook starts the luxury sports car. "Live life simple". Is Jeon Jungkook's life motto, even though his life was nowhere near being simple. He taps the side of his luxury car to open the mansions garage door. Jimin is ecstatic as he quickly connects his phone to the cars Bluetooth system, before going on to snapchat quickly to film Jungkook as he does a burn out as he speeds out the driveway of his million dollar mansion. "It's going to be a good night!" Jimin shouts as he swipes through his playlist on his phone, speedily finding a song and blasting the music louder to vibrate around the luxury car. Jungkook smirks as he speeds down the street with one hand on the leather steering wheel.

It wasn't easy being the son of one of the world's most well-known and feared mafia organisations. His father ran his illegal and ruthless business for decades now. As the gang grew, so did the expectations, illegal transactions and contracts. From a young age, he has been privately tutored. His relaxation time consisted of excessive gym workouts, video games and research of other mafia organisations which could be a threat to his father and himself. Jungkook didn't know how to actually take a break. From a child he was placed under a lot of pressure from his father, there were all these expectations that he'd be the best and nothing but the best. Jungkook's father didn't believe in vacations and breaks, which resulted in Jungkook being robbed of a normal childhood, rich or not he never knew when enough was enough and always tried to improve in any area he felt he lacked in. Jungkook is perfection and there was no one who could one-up him in anything. As he grew older, the stress and pressure kept growing until he was pushed to breaking point and it takes a lot to get Jeon Jungkook to break.

"-Jungkook I am warning you. No more fucking around. I did not raise you to be this reckless and barbaric!" His father shouts as he slams an expensive 4.7 million dollar vase against the brick wall of his office. "I am sorry father it won't happen again."

"Listen to me. You need to get your fucking priorities straight. We already have thousands of enemies after us. We can't just simply fuck up all the time. He doesn't want to pay up, the fucking bastard! Even when we have given him one of our finest bags of cocaine. Do not make a deal without the customer paying first. I don't care if he's one of our most trusted customers or not. You can’t trust anyone in this world. This is a fucking amateur mistake even for you."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sending you back to Dubai. You know what to do. I won't tell you again Jungkook." Jungkook silently swallows as his father slowly approaches him, leaving only an inch of space between them.

"Kill him. I want you to meet up with Mr Moon and fucking annihilate him"

"Yes, Father."

After meeting his current best friends Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung in University he finally learnt how to wind down and relax. The two equivalently as rich bachelors saved Jungkook from overworking himself and taught him how to waste his time doing things that could help him relax. There were only a few ways Jungkook knew how to wind down after being put under so much stress and anxiety. The endless collection of luxury vehicles was only one of them. The other things he liked to do to pass time was through the illicit use of illegal narcotics he owns and pays people to make, while the other consisted of fucking random girls and getting excessively drunk. So drunk that he'd get the sudden urge to kill and release his frustrations from his father and his business on innocent victims he'd target throughout his night. Jungkook, unlike Jimin and Taehyung, wasn't very interested in money and material things. Jungkook was no stranger to murder and reckless drug use. He has everything…the routine gets boring. Purchasing a new car, a new watch or property. None of that gave him the rush he needed to feel alive. Nothing was more euphoric to him than a good fuck and kill. The exciting rush of adrenaline setting him off.

“Jungkook maybe you should really refrain from killing your bitches.” Yoongi huffs in annoyance as he enters Jungkook’s room, peering at the dead body from his doorway. The blood from his victim soaking his bed sheets and dripping onto the marble floor. Her naked and brutally attacked body is covered in stabbed wounds and slash marks. “It’s going to get on your carpet man.” Yoongi ruffles his hair before shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as he turns his head away in disgust. “Can’t I just do my thing without anyone questioning it Yoongi?" Jungkook retorts in agitation, as he clamps a hand over his eyes, trying to ignore the head splitting headache he felt from being hungover. "You really need to stop with these wicked games Jungkook," Yoongi says finally walking over to him, stopping once he was right in front of him. "Just hurry up and get someone to clean this fucking mess. It’s starting to smell.” Jungkook mutters in irritation as he glares at Yoongi before walking towards his bathroom completely stark naked. Yoongi peers at the scares on his body before sighing. “It’s always me doing the dirty work.”

It was supposed to be a one-time thing. A simple release of stress and anxiety. However, it slowly became into something Jungkook just could not control. What started off as one victim, turned into two, then into three before he knew it he had lost count. He had lost count of the multiple people he has killed men and women alike. It became a pattern and something he couldn't withhold. He just needed to release his frustration in some type of way that actually works for him. It just happened to be through murdering the people he slept with on a lonely intoxicated spent night. Jungkook downs his glass of expensive champagne before using his diamond credit card without any limit on spending to line up his favourite white substance. He snorts it as the music around him blast through the speakers of Full Moon. One of the many clubs that he owns and likes to visit very frequently to release his stress.

"Hey, there handsome." A female voice speaks over the loud music playing the club and Jungkook bites down onto his bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to prevent a smile from stretching across his gorgeous lips. "Any more for me?" She pouts teasingly, before running her manicured fingers down the fine quality of his dress shirt. He narrows his eyes at her as he whips around to face her. He chuckles while taking in her appearance. Her botox lips, silicone breasts and butt injections were exceptionally recognisable as the incredibly short dress and low cut top left little to the imaginations as she leans herself closer to his masculine figure. He smirks at her obvious advances and he leans closer towards her. She definitely wasn’t worth the fuck but she’d make a pretty good kill.

"I don't know doll face I don't think you can handle this." He murmurs clasping his hands together as he rests his elbows against the fine wood of the bar booth. Her eyes glint as they wander across the expensive rings on his fingers and the Rolex clasped around his wrist. "Oh, I don't know about that handsome. Why don't you give me some and we'll see?" She bites her lip as she places a bald hand on one of his thick thighs. Jungkook laughs as he covers his mouth with one of his hands as the other taps his credit card on the counter in annoyance. "Hmm how about it beautiful?" She moans leaning closer towards Jungkook's face to place a kiss. Jungkook moves quickly before pushing her hand off his thigh, while hostilely pressing her against the counter of the bar. "You don't get to touch me or my shit okay?" She swallows nervously, before nodding her head quickly. The dark clouding in his eyes takes her breath away as he violently wraps his fingers around her neck. "Get your pathetic self out of my fucking sight before I fucking kill you." She scampers away hastily, tripping slightly in the process.

"Wow. You really know how to talk to the ladies." Jimin chuckles as he pours himself a cup of whiskey. Jungkook shrugs before putting his hands into his pocket, eyes now focusing on his friend. "Let's go to the VIP section, Taehyung's just arrived and he brought Yoongi." Jimin grins as he swirls around his alcoholic beverage eyes watching the ice clack against the fine glass before looking up at Jungkook with a smirk. Jungkook's eyes narrow as he nods, wordlessly walking in the direction of the VIP section. "There's my favourite billionaire! How are you JK?" Taehyung shouts while slinging an arm around Jungkook's shoulders. Jungkook chuckles patting Taehyung on the chest. "Blessed you in my presence like always man," Jungkook smirks before making eye contact with Yoongi as he slowly approaches the pair sluggishly. "You got the stuff?" Yoongi mutters pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and blowing smoke to the side.

Jungkook smirks as he pulls out a bag of white substance from the inside of his lavish blazer. "Always." He mutters before throwing the bag of coke to him. Yoongi catches it with a wide grin, exposing his gummy smile. "I missed you JK." He murmurs, as Jungkook winks at him in response. Jimin downs his drink as Taehyung eagerly races over to Yoongi to get some of the powdered cocaine.

You sigh for the tenth time as you peer up at the clock hanging on the wall adjacent from you. If the time on the clock was correct, which it is, you should have left the agency to go home five hours ago. "Namjoon really needs to start paying us overtime because this is the twentieth time we've stayed back to do the paperwork and I’m serious (Y/n) I counted! I am not getting any younger. Or am I? I look pretty sexy today actually, don’t you think (Y/n)?" Your detective partner grumbles as he staples some papers together, peering down at you with a pout.

You nod while yawning not really paying attention to anything your colleague was saying to you. “You didn’t even look at me!” He whines and you hum in acknowledgement. You were too exhausted to speak, exhaling as you, read through your investigations closely. You had just been drilled by your boss Kim Namjoon about your cases and the stress of finding a lead to the recent murders makes your chest and head hurt. Massaging your temples, you glance at your empty coffee mug, contemplating for another cup of coffee to wake you up. You sigh again reaching towards the mess of papers against your desk. You start stacking them ready to turn in for the night. "Don't tell me you are still upset about what happened 4 hours ago (Y/n)? Cheer up! So Namjoon told you off? Big deal! He yells at me all the time and I'm older than him. The guy’s just like that. Don’t take it personally." Your partner tries to cheer you up as he helps you stack papers from the cases you have been investigating.

"Please just stop Jin! I can't believe we don't have any leads. I wasted another entire day at work drinking coffee and getting yelled at by Namjoon…" You whine, slouching against your computer chair as you purse your lips into a pout, looking at your partner Kim Seokjin. "You are already one of the most respected detectives at this agency. Namjoon pushes you hard because he knows you can deliver the results. You don't give yourself enough credit." Jin says moving behind to rest his hands on your shoulders. “It’s not enough Jin. I am not enough. I need to try harder.”

Jin's hands that rested on your shoulder begins massaging them. Your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you feel your tense muscles begin to loosen. Jin rolls his eyes before sighing. "You know what. When was the last time you got a massage? You are way too tense! Why don't we go out? Just like to go and grab a couple of drinks? I mean it's Friday night you could obviously use a well-deserved break you work-acholic!" Jin exclaims releasing your shoulders as he starts impulsively packing away your things into your handbag. "Woah Jin what are you-"

"Come on get yo prude ass up. We're going out." He pulls you off your chair and onto your feet as he pats you down, from your crinkled blouse to your pencil skirt. "Lucky you got heels on tonight! You look great, there's a club/bar close to our agency were going to go to let off some steam. You really could use a couple of drinks. As your loyal detective partner and friend, I am not going to let you suffer like this. Your way too young to be looking like this. Where's your youth gone?" He complains as he places your handbag on your shoulder, before grabbing your car keys. "Wait, seriously Jin I don't really feel like-"

"Shut up! Stop protesting! Admit it you want to drink." Jin ushers you out of the agency before turning off the lights and looking up the door. "I-I…okay." You murmur, rolling your eyes as Jin winks at you, shooting finger guns. "Which club are we going to anyway?" You ask taking your hair out of the ponytail you previously had it in.

"Full Moon," Jin mumbles as motions you to follow him. He stuffs his hands into his pockets as he begins walking in the direction of the club. "Full Moon?" You say raising an eyebrow up at him in confusion. "Yeah. Full Moon. You haven't you heard of it?" He questions with wide eyes. "N-No…" You mutter slightly embarrassed. Jin peers at you questionably and you finally break. "Okay fine. Yes. I haven't heard of it. Sue me." Jin chuckles and pats you on the shoulder reassuringly. "It's fine. The club is extremely popular though. Apparently, some good-looking rich guy owns it. I know it's expensive. That famous actor Kim Taehyung goes there a lot and he's friends with the owner."

"Really!? Kim Taehyung. That's crazy." You exclaim at the shocking news of someone so famous going to the same club you were about to go to. "Wait Jin I-I is it going to be expensive because if it is I am still paying off car repairs and-"

"I got you (Y/N). Don't even worry about trivial things such as money." He reassures you with such a gleaming smile it was impossible to refuse him. "Okay, money is not trivial. It is what makes the world go around but…thank you so much, Jin." Your smile widens as he gives you a dopey look. "It's nothing, but you owe me a coffee on Monday." You laugh at that last comment before nodding up at him. "We've been friends for so long now. I mean you are dating my best friend." Jin chuckles at the mention of his girlfriend who happens to be one of the most precious people in your life. "Yeah, that's true. I don't think she's busy tonight I already invited her…she should be meeting us there." Jin says checking the messages on his phone. "You are so whipped for her."

"You know it." He winks at you before you both burst out laughing. "(Y/N)! Your best friend shouts as she wraps her arms around you. "Oh, you fucking scared me!" You both laughed as Jin wraps his arms around her from behind. “You look amazing baby!” Jin compliments her before giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. You avert your gaze from the couple pretending to puke. She laughs before slapping your arm playfully. “Don’t look at me like that! You just need to get laid.” She says pocking her tongue out at you. “Shut up you little thot.” You say bitterly, causing Jin to laugh embarrassingly loud. "Woah, so this is the club?" Your best friend exclaims as she stares at the club with her mouth wide open in shock. Your eyes widened dumbfounded at the long queue of ridiculously rich looking people waiting in line outside. The club is buzzing and bustling loud with paparazzi in all directions trying to take pictures and sneak their way get in. "oh this is the club and It's busy alright," Jin mutters as he ushers both you and your best friend into the queue of people. "Must be some famous people in there if there is paparazzi clowning around right outside." Your best friend whispers in your ear and you nod back at her. "Jin told me that a Kim Taehyung comes here a lot."

"Really!? The actor?" Your best friend exclaims peering into the club through a window. "Gosh, I hate how these windows are tinted we can't see anything inside." Jin groans trying to peer through the window. Your best friend laughs before slapping her boyfriend on the arm lightly. "Hey stop! People from the inside can see you even though you can't see them." You all chuckle at that. Jin doing his famous window wiper laugh. “We are going to be waiting out here all night and this rate.” You utter dejectedly. Jin opens his mouth to retort to your comment only to be interrupted by a girl waiting at the front. "Oh hey someone's coming out!" The random girl in front of you shrieks as she notices the slender handsome guy exiting through the front door of the club to whisper something to the bouncer at the front that you assume must be urgent from the stern look on his face. Your eyes widened in amazement at the realisation that this particular person was extremely good-looking. “Wow.” Your best friend whispers in your ear before nudging you. Without looking at her you nod, completely agreeing, as the girls around you guys start to scream and shout as they shower the said person with compliments and random praises.

"Park Jimin!!!!!!!" Girls, nearby you start to scream as he waves at them humbly, totally dismissing their chaotic behaviour. Jimin is unfazed by the attention he is receiving, the radiant smile on his face never faltering once. “Park Jimin?” You repeat as your eyes stay glued on him. He is stunning and has this unexplainable glow to him. You are mesmerised by the mere sight of him.

"Woah really Park Jimin!?" Jin shouts staring at the attractive boy with wide eyes. "What is It Jin?" Your best friend asks resting her hand on his shoulder, as she peers at Jimin curiously. Jin doesn't take his eyes off Jimin as he stares at him with his mouth slightly agape. Jimin continues giving his attention to the girls surrounding the club. The paparazzi camera flashes almost blinded you, as people begin to eagerly take videos and photos of Jimin. While he was giving the girls a bit of fan service, Jimin notices Jin and instantly his own eyes begin to widen once he realises who he’s looking at.

"Is that you Jin?" He questions ushering him to come closer. You and your best friend instantly stiffen at the sudden wave of attention brought to your group. The long queue instantly parts in the middle making you both a pathway to walk through. "Okay, why the fuck is Park Jimin motioning you to go over to him? And who the fuck is he?" Your best friend harshly whispers to Jin. Jin laughs nervously avoiding the question before ushering you both to the front of the queue.

Once you all started getting closer to Jimin, his eyes began to sparkle as he stares at Jin fondly. "Seokjin! It is you! It has been ages man how are you?" Jimin is ecstatic as he wraps Jin into a long heartfelt embrace. "It has been so long, I haven't seen you since College." At the mention of college, you and your best friend begin to relax knowing that Seokjin comes from a wealthy family and studied abroad at an expensive elite University which is probably how he knows someone as famous as Jimin.

"Congratulations on expanding your business. I heard you opened a lot of new hotels globally." Jin mentions, making Jimin flustered as he runs his fingers through his hair. You watch him feeling a blush of your own brush against your cheeks. He was so gorgeous that you suddenly felt your social anxiety eating away at your heart. Your best friend wraps a hand around your trembling ones in an attempt to relax you. You tighten your grips on her hands without taking your gaze off Jimin.

Jimin notices your gaze and peers at you intently with a hint of cockiness soothing out of him. He clearly knew he was attractive. His eyes widen for a split-second before relaxing when you force a smile at him. A playful glint appears in his eyes as he stares at you for a few seconds too long. "Aren't you going to introduce me to these lovely ladies Jin?" Jimin playfully says curtly while tilting his head to the side slowly. His eyes wandering down your body to scan you from head to toe. If you weren't red before you were definitely red now. "Oh yes, of course, this is (B/F/N) my girlfriend and this is her best friend and my work colleague (Y/N)." Jin introduces you both to Jimin and Jimin smiles at you both dreamily, before shaking hands with your best friend. "Nice to meet you! Any friend of Jin's is a friend of mine." Your best friend says smiling up at Jimin who returns her smile sweetly. "You got yourself a keeper Jin, she suits you." Jin smiles at her tenderly, placing a kiss to her temples while wrapping an arm around her waist. "Yeah. I think so too. Glad you agree." Jimin smiles at Jin before shifting his eyes over to you. You jump slightly the moment your eyes meet and he's moving closer to you quickly. You feel yourself become weak as he grasps onto your hand gently. He comfortingly rubs his thumbs against the back of your as his hold tightens. "Nice to meet you (Y/N)" He slowly lifts your palm towards his soft lips. Your breath hitches in your throat as he teasingly winks before placing a soft kiss at the palm of your hand.

You feel the heat of envy from the girls around you as they glare at you. You pull your hand out of Jimin's hold quickly before forcing another tight smile at him up at him in response. "Nice to meet you too Jimin," Jimin smirks before placing a hand at your lower back, forcing you to turn and face the entrance of the club. He escorts you all towards the door. "We can talk inside." He says simply Jin nods in delight, while your best friend smirks at you cheekily. You shyly avert your gaze away from Jimin knowing he staring right at you "Stop." Your mouth to her in embarrassment as she snickers in response. "Thanks for getting us in man," Jin says rubbing Jimin on the shoulders. "Anything for fabulous Kim Seokjin." Jimin chuckles before facing the bouncer. "These guys are with me," Jimin says simply to the bouncer who nods in response. "Whatever you say, Boss."

You all happily enter the club and Jimin escorts you to the bar. "If it wasn't for you we would have been waiting outside forever." Your best friend chuckles as she beams up at Jimin. "Oh, its nothing don't even mention it." Jimin smoothly says while returning her smile politely. "So is it you who owns this club?" Jin asks as Jimin waves over the bartender. The bartender sophisticatedly picks up an expensive bottle of champagne before placing the alcoholic beverage in front of Jimin as well as fine glass cups. "Nah this club actually belongs to Jungkook," Jimin says unbothered and Jin immediately stiffens at the mention of Jungkook's name. "Jungkook huh," Jin says slowly while laughing awkwardly, you and your best friend immediately peer up at him in confusion and he glances at you both in slight agitation as he loosens his tie in an attempt to get you both to not ask. Jimin is oblivious to the sudden awkward tension has he opens an expensive bottle of Champagne that you knew probably costed more than your whole annual salary.

"Woah. Look at the bottle" Your best friend mutters as you all stare at the bottle wide-eyed. Jimin hands Jin and his girlfriend a glass before giving you a glass. His fingers slyly brush against yours and you stiffen in response as he winks at you. "Cheers to finally reuniting!" Jimin says placing his cup in front of the three to clack together. "Bottoms up!"

You all down your glasses. You were slower than the rest in an attempt to savour the expensive taste, thinking you will never be able to have this kind of champagne again. “We’re at the VIP Booth.” He says nonchalantly pointing to the back of the club. “You all should come and join us,” Jimin says after downing his champagne glass. “I’ll just have to let Jungkook know I’m bringing you guys in there because he gets a bit iffy with this sort of stuff. Just wait here I’ll be back in a flash. Don’t miss me too much.” Jimin says winking at you before rushing away ignoring the panicked expression on Jin’s face.

“So who’s Jungkook? And why’d you totally freak out and stiffen up like that?” Your best friend asks as she averts her gaze from Jimin’s back to Jin’s conflicted face. Jin looks at both your curious faces and sighs in defeat. “Let’s just say the kid’s got some problems,” Jin says trying to get you both to drop the question completely.

“What kind of problems Jin?” You asked raising an eyebrow at him curiously. Your best friend nods, folding her arms as she raises an eyebrow up at Jin. He shakes his head while massaging his temples. “It’s kind of complicated-“

“What kind of problems Jin?” Your best friend raises her voice as she cuts of Jin, looking at him irritably. Jin’s eyes begin to scan the room as he fidgets nervously, palm rubbing the back of his neck as he thinks his words over. “Like the mafia, breaking the law, drug selling kind of problems…”

You and your best friend stare up at Jin shocked and he bites his lip in response. “Are you being serious?” Your best friend exclaims. “-Um. Maybe we should go home.” Jin says ruffling his hair as he falls deep in thought while staring in the direction that Jimin took off in, trying to avoid any more questions being asked. “No. We just got here. We can’t just go home.” Your best friend says touching Jin on the shoulder gently. “Why?” You ask in concern. “Look, whatever happens, tonight. Jeon Jungkook can absolutely not find out were detectives.” Jin exclaims looking genuinely stressed out. Never in your many years of knowing and working with Jin have you ever seen look this concerned. He was always so carefree and relaxed even when dealing with the intense cases back at the detective agency. Why was he so concerned about a random club owner? When he deals with way worse on the daily. “Why can’t he find out were detectives?” Your best friend asks running her hand up and down Jin’s arm soothingly, looking sincerely concerned about his behaviour.

“Because if Jeon Jungkook finds out were detectives we are all going to fucking die tonight.”

“Father…”

"Yes, Jungkook?" He looks at Jungkook through his glasses as he pauses counting the piles of money stacked up on his desk. "What do you want? I'm really busy here." He asks running out of patience as he waits for young Jungkook to answer.

"When…you hold a knife to someone's throat…how easy is it for them to die?"

The silence is almost ear-splitting as he peers at his son with curious eyes. "Why do you want to know?" He asks taking off his glasses, placing them gently on the side of his desk as he leans back on his chair while crossing his arms. "I just-"

"Listen to me carefully Jungkook…If you want to play with knives you need to learn how to use them correctly. Slicing someone's throat is typically done for the effect. If the victims not alone, the sound will make their colleagues shit themselves. It's scary as it is. I mean, coming up to your victim from behind with the sharp knife in your hand, cupping a hand over their mouth, slicing across their neck, watching the pools of blood squirt out. However, if you really want to kill them it would be better to stab them, puncture the trachea, oesophagus and of course the carotid arteries and jugular veins. It really shows how easy it is to take a life. It's truly intriguing."

"Earth to Jungkook." Taehyung chuckles distastefully loud before flicking Jungkook on the forehead lightly. Jungkook's bloodshot eyes avert from the random wall he was staring at as he was lost in thought to Kim Taehyung. He stares back at him in a daze as the effects of the drugs begin to take place. "Man, you were like deep in thought, what the fuck were you thinking about?" Jungkook's mouth stretches up in the corner as he forces a smile at his friend. "Some dark shit Taehyung, you really wanna know?"

"Nah, I'll pass we all know how fucked up you are." He laughs pouring himself some more expensive liquor. "Pass me your cup," Jungkook smirks, sitting up before placing his glass in front of Taehyung. Taehyung smirks back at Jungkook before pouring his drink even fuller than he poured his own. "Yeah fill it any further it's going to overflow.” Jungkook laughs in disbelief as he peers at his cup intrigued by Taehyung's inattentive actions. "Hey, Hoseok!" Yoongi exclaims as he walks into the VIP room with style. "Long time no see guys." He says before leisurely taking a seat next to Yoongi. "Want a drink Hobi?" Taehyung teases as he wriggles the expensive bottle of champagne in his hand. "You never play fair Tae." Yoongi chuckles as he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray next to him. "You know me." He says shrugging, the smile on face growing as he peers back at Jungkook who was side-eyeing him. "Yeah pour me some," Hoseok says as he takes the cigarette offered to him by Yoongi, placing it between his teeth and lighting it with a pure gold lighter. "Aw, Yoongi there might not be any left for you." Taehyung chuckles pouring as a pours a glass for Hoseok. "I swear you have a death wish Tae-"

"Hey, Jungkook!" Jimin exclaims as he walks into the VIP booth, the three studs look at him simultaneously. "Yeah?" Jungkook murmurs, bringing the cup of liquor Taehyung poured him up to his lips. "You won't believe who I just bumped into-"

"Before that, did you tell the bouncer to not let that group of the Italian mafia in." Jungkook cuts him off after downing his drink. "Yeah it's all sorted, you won't be seeing them ever again," Jimin smirks crossing his arms, as he peers down at Jungkook. "Good." He mutters, motioning for him to continue with what he was going to say before he got interrupted.

"Listen I bumped into Kim Seokjin." Jungkook's eyes widen slightly. "I haven't heard that name in a while," Jungkook mutters smirking at Jimin. "Yeah, he's here with his girlfriend and her friend can they enter the VIP booth?" Jimin asks Jungkook smiling, Jungkook stares at him blankly before nodding his head. "Yeah, it is cool. I don't see why not."

"Are the chicks he's with hot?" Taehyung exclaims before Jimin could exit the booth. Jimin halts in his tracks before turning his head to the side to face him with a smirk.

"Smoking."

You take some time to process Jin's words. The night you finally had to relax suddenly had done a complete 180. You can tell that Jin is both physically and mentally freaking out. Even though he is usually the really calm one which makes you and your best friend especially nervous. Jin runs his fingers through his hair as he takes in a few deep breaths.

"Okay but w-what do you mean by ‘kill' us?" Your best friend says as she stares at Jin in complete disbelief, her eyes slimming slightly. Your heart starts hammering in the chest through the anticipation and anxiety of finding out what Seokjin had to say.

"Kill as in peu peu! Stab stab! Bye bye! THAT KIND OF KILL!" Jin says mockingly as he waves his arms up and down in exaggeration. You and your best friend roll your eyes at his behaviour before she slaps him on the arm. "Ow!"

"Jin can you be serious! Do you have some beef with this guy that we don’t know about?" You say glaring up at him while pacing on your hands on your hips. "Yeah like seriously, we need you to explain this. You can’t just say that shit and leave us hanging. Who exactly is Jungkook and why would he want to kill us?" Your best friend says leaning in closer towards Jin, you mimic her actions as Jin motions you both to come to close. Jin looks around him to make sure no one is listening before leaning back down closer to the both of you.

"Think about it this way, were in enemy territory right now. Jungkook owns this club, he has people working for him everywhere in this club. We are the seals in shark territory. Jungkook isn't just some lousy ass back alley drug dealer, his father is this fucking crazy, merciless serial killer and he is exceptionally rich and powerful! The Jeon family has ruined lives, not just kill people and get away with it but ruin lives. If he finds out were detectives there's no doubt in my mind that he'll kill us right on the spot. He doesn't care, he's fucking crazy. In college one guy copied a sentence from his essay and we literally never saw him again. He is pure evil and bad news. We don't fuck with someone like him. I've literally only have spoken to him a few times in my life and that was enough to give me nightmares."

You both feel shivers run down your spines as the frightening new information swims through your mind almost making you dizzy. "We can't enjoy ourselves tonight if we're constantly on edge. Maybe we should just get out of here and fast." Your best friend says grabbing onto both Jin and your hand. "Sorry I took a while! I'm glad you guys are still here." Jimin exclaims from behind the three of you making you all jump in fear and shock. "Going somewhere?" He says smirking up at the three of you. You hold your breath as Jin forces a laugh to break the awkward tension. "No! No way! Not at all!" Jin exclaims, patting Jimin on the arm gently. Jimin stares up at Jin in suspicion. His sudden change of persona has you all on edge.

"Good! Now, what liquor do you guys drink I'll have the bartender bring it over to our booth." Jimin suddenly exclaims, his face lighting up with a bright smile. His quick change of character leaves you all baffled as he scans over the expensive liquor lined up at the bar. “Well? What do you guys wanna sip?” Jimin chuckles, smiling kindly. You mentally panic knowing absolutely nothing about normal liquor than again expensive liquor! The two of you are speechless as Jin remains cool as a cucumber smiling back at Jimin. You start internally panicking because of the silence coming from the three of you before your best friend decides to nudge Jin hard in the ribs. Jin groans before covering up his pain by leaning against the counter. "We'll just drink whatever your having were not too picky with alcohol." He smiles at Jimin forcefully, before side-eyeing his girlfriend.

"Oh Okay, that's absolutely fine. We got some of the finest liquor over at the VIP section anyway. Please follow me." Jimin says maintaining eye contact with Jin and his girlfriend before subtly winking at you. You flush at his obvious flirtatious advances before sluggishly following him from behind Jin and Your best friend. The three of you are tense because of the terrifying new information that was given to you by Jin. You felt nauseous as the walk to the VIP booth seemed to be taking forever. You and best friend glance at each other with a tight smile. Everything will be okay we just have to make sure Jungkook doesn't find out what our field of work is. You mentally remind yourself as you try to calm down your concerns.

As the three of you get closer to the VIP section you start to smell marijuana. The smell is strong as it mixes with the expensive colognes being worn by the four people inside. Jimin ushers the three of you inside the booth when you all just stop simultaneously at the entrance. Jin is first to make eye contact with Taehyung and Hoseok as your best friend makes eyes with Yoongi. Your heart pounds against your rib cage as the boy with dark hair and eyes holds your gaze.

Your eyes widen in astonishment, your mouth falling slight agape as you take in the appearance of the person you assume is the infamous Jeon Jungkook. Your hands begin to shake as your cheeks are flushing a deep shade of red at the perfection in front of you. Jungkook eyes cut deep into your soul, your palms begin to sweat. He was beautiful. He had the rich person vibe about him, along with something that couldn't really put your finger on. His eyes wander from your face to the rest of your body and you instantly feel exposed to his greedy eyes. He watches you closely and precisely. As if he was absorbing all of your information out of you. He was intimidating and conceited from the way he presented himself as he chews onto his bottom lip. Tugging the flesh erotically as he maintains eye contact with you. How could someone this breathtakingly beautiful be so bad?

Playing with the expensive rings on his fingers, he stares at you with a new kind of glint in onyx dark his eyes. "Seokjin…I am so glad we could meet again," Jungkook says standing up slowly from the expensive leather couch he was sitting on. You peer up at him as he stands, his intense gaze never leaving your own. Jin clears his throat as he stares back and forth between you and Jungkook before walking forward timidly to shake hands with Jungkook. "Nice to see you again Jungkook. Looks like you're doing well Man. This club is amazing."

"You flatter me," Jungkook says smirking at you while he’s shaking hands with Jin. You stare back at him nervously tugging onto the flesh of your bottom lip. Jin once again notices Jungkook’s set gaze on you and peers between the both of you with searching eyes. “How long has this club been open? I’ve heard you had it renovated a few times.” Jin says trying to capture Jungkook’s attention to give you some space to breathe. You can tell that Jin is tense by the way he's tightening his jaw. As soon as Jungkook seems distracted you exhale abruptly finally releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You observe Jungkook’s whole luxurious attire while he converses politely with Jin. “Yes – Actually this place has been renovated about…” His voice drifts away as you scan the black blazer that was imbraided with an expensive designer label, the white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top revealing his collar bones and white gold neck, a designer belt holding up his black tight fitted suit pants and expensive black leather shoes. He was definitely rich and by the way, he acted, you knew he was someone that always gets what he wants.

“(Y/N)?”

The voice whispering in your ear breaks you out of your trance and you turn your head to the side to be greeted with your best friends worried expression. “Are you okay? You’re practically drooling.” She says it harshly as if it was obvious and your cheeks quickly set ablaze in complete embarrassment. “Was I that obvious?” You whisper back in panic as she nods her head you groan quietly.

"You weren't lying about bringing up some hotties weren’t you Jimin?" Taehyung murmurs as he winks at both you and your best friend. Your best friend quickly holds hands with Jin in response, the action coming to her naturally as Jin tightens his hold on her hand. You dismiss his comment, too invested in Jungkook and the way his eyes crinkle on the side when he smiles and the cute little mole under his lip. He was like something out of a movie. You never ever expected the bloodcurdling and merciless Jeon Jungkook to look like this.

"Talking to yourself now Taehyung? I knew you were fucked but not that fucked" Yoongi sneers as Taehyung glare at him in response. "Shut the fuck up Yoongi." Taehyung spat in annoyance. "Oi the DJ is playing that whack shit. Tell him to change the song." Hoseok mumbles to Jimin as he blows out smoke from his mouth, ignoring you, Seokjin and your best friend altogether. "No, you tell him! I told him last time - " Jimin retorts defensively before being cut off by Jungkook.

"-care to Introduce me to your friends Seokjin," Jungkook says as his sharp dark eyes fall on to you. You swallow the built up saliva salivating in your mouth as he smoothly unbuttons a button on his blazer before shrugging off it off completely. He has you captivated, his smile tugging on the side cockily as he is rolling up his sleeves and you almost choke on your drool at the sight of his muscle and tattoos hiding from underneath his tight fitted white collared dress shirt. "Right. Well, this beautiful girl right here is my girlfriend (B/F/N) and this is our good friend and work colleague (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)?" Jungkook says smirking, your eyes widened as he says your name smoothly, the rush of emotions sending you on an emotional high as he motions you to come to the vacant spot next to him. He eyes leave you momentarily to nod at your best friend in acknowledgement before he's gazing back at you cuttingly. "What would you like to drink?" He asks with barely any emotion visible on his handsome face. "Ah- we're not picky, that champagne will do," Jin says to Jungkook swiftly as he patted you gently on the shoulder. "Excellent," Jungkook says impassively before gesturing you to come closer to him. “Come.” He orders making you weak in the knees. You gulp nervously before walking over to the spot next to him. While you were debating what to do in your head, you decide to place yourself next to him on a whim. “(Y/n)-“ Jin and your best friend mutter strictly as they stare at you in complete disbelief as you make yourself comfortable next to him. You keep your gaze locked on Jungkook as he outstretches his hand towards you. You place your hand into his and he immediately notices you trembling. He a ghostly smirk appears on his face slyly as he notices the effect he had on you.

“What would you like to drink lovely (Y/n)?” Jungkook asks with the slight smirk stretching even wider on his lips as he releases your hand slowly while he motions you to take a seat next to him. "Surprise me." You say while forcing yourself to remain calm even though you were completely freaking out on the inside. He observes you closely which makes you anxious. He knows all the emotions you were discreetly trying to suppress.

Jungkook continues to stare at you attentively before grinning at your response. Jimin and Yoongi watch you in amusement as Taehyung chuckles at your curt reply. "I'd be careful if I was you.” Hoseok chuckles nonchalantly finally acknowledging you. “Jungkook has a tendency of taking things to the next level. Don't challenge him." Yoongi murmurs resting his chin against the palm of his hand with a wide grin plastered on his face as he watches Jungkook with curious eyes instantly recognising his friend's interest in you. "I'll get you only the finest," Jungkook says eyes detecting your nervous behaviour. You watch him cautiously and he looks at you with such desire held in his gaze that you are refraining yourself from running away at the discomposure and the lust that was salivating in your mouth for him. It was torture trying not to drool and ogle at the bachelor when he was just so delicious to look at in the first place.

"So, what do you do for a living now Jin?" Taehyung asks out of blue, his interest leaving you and Jungkook to instead interrogate Jin. You jump at the question subtly. Jin and Your best friend look at each other in almost recognisable panic as the question you all feared being asked came up sooner than you all anticipated. You clear your throat, feeling yourself get frightened at the question being asked so early into the introductions that you are fervently trying to come up with a lie. "We work for a writing company. We're publishers. We had so much paperwork today we thought we could use a break and grab a couple of drinks." Jin intervenes in a hurry with something you thought was not believable but ended up not being picked up by Jungkook or his friends. You were all wearing office clothing which made sense. Jimin hands you a cup of champagne with a cherry in the bottom of it. You thank him quietly before taking slow slips of the bubbly alcoholic beverage. Jimin smiles at you fondly before proceeding to pore everyone else a drink.

"Kim Seokjin, son of one of the most successful and richest surgeons in the world is working at a publishing company," Taehyung exclaims questionably raising an eyebrow at Jin. Jin clears his throat before nodding. "Yeah…I chose to do something different from my father." He says forcing a smile at Taehyung. Yoongi and Hoseok nod their head in a supportive manner at Jin’s response. “I thought you were going to become a doctor like the rest of your family. It’s so you to do something completely different though. Good luck with everything man.” Taehyung says raising his glass to Jin as he slouches on the couch he was sitting on. “Yeah, thanks Tae. Good luck with acting.” Jin beams at him, mimicking his actions of raising his glass in praise.

Jungkook watches you diligently as you watch the pair converse stiffly. “You have all worked hard. It’s time for you all to relax and enjoy yourselves.” Jungkook says as he accepts the champagne handed to him by Jimin with a slight nod of acknowledgement. Every movement he made screamed class and you were living for all of it. “That doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.” Yoongi jokes picking up his own glass placed in front of him. "Cheers," Taehyung exclaims as you all clank your glasses together. “To another night of endless drinking and bad decisions!” Hoseok suddenly adds, lightening the mood. You all glance at one another smiling and laughing before bringing your glasses to your lips, your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and you almost choke on your drink at the quick subtle wink sent your way.

It was an amateurish mistake getting drunk in front of famous and from what you heard ruthless millionaires or billionaires, you didn’t know nor did you really care. You just knew they were famous and educated bachelors from rich families that really liked to spend their money and spent a lot of their time doing stupid and illegal shit. From what started off as a tense and almost death binding situation became a rather enjoyable and interesting environment as Jungkook poured you drink after drink. Jin and his girlfriend ended up getting lost into a card game against Taehyung, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin. While you became undeniably drunk off the expensive champagne Jungkook was pouring you and off of Jungkook himself. It wasn't just the drinks that you got you tipsy it was the way he smiles, touched and kissed you.

Only a few people can kiss a dangerous mafia member and live to tell the tale. Jungkook’s touches set your skin ablaze as he runs his tongue around your parted lips. You wanted to have him to yourself at that very moment and no one could convince you otherwise. Your grip on his blazer tightens as sees how much you want him with his onyx eyes. He cockily presses you impossibly closer against him. You release a shaky sigh at the feeling of his masculine physique that he was hiding under his clothes. You glance down at his chest, spotting tattoos hidden underneath his white faintly transparent dress shirt. There was no doubt in Jungkook's mind that you were his next motivation. He had to claim you tonight. He had to be the one to leave marks on your gorgeous skin and possibly if he felt like the part killing you.

It was a blur…how Jungkook ended up tongue deep into your mouth, ring covered cool fingers caressing your exposed thigh, as he pulls you impossibly close to his body causing goose bumps to appear on your skin and a shudder run down your spine. You drown in his scent and touch. It was electrifying. You were drowning in the scent of expensive cologne and the silky feeling of his lavish fabric. He pulls you flush against him, your hands running through his silky locks, he detaches himself from your lips temporarily to run sloppy kisses along the side of jaw and neck. A silent moan escapes past your lips and it was game over. Jungkook bites down onto your earlobe, making you automatically grip onto his shoulder tightly in response. You are breathing heavily against him as he swirls his sinful tongue around the side of your neck and the skin just behind your ear. "J-Jungkook." You weren't this type of person. The type to kiss a stranger you had just met in a club. The type to get so drunk you couldn't think or walk straight. The type to want to someone to claim you right in the middle of people filled VIP room. Jungkook was exhilarating in everything that he did to your body. The fear of him being a dangerous gang member leaving your thoughts the moment he touched you and laid eyes on you.

“Have you ever seen a matte black Lamborghini before baby?” He whispers in your ear and you shake your head ‘No.’ While biting onto your bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to hold back your erotic moans from escaping. “Do you wanna fuck in one?" Your eyes widened in shock, as he moves his hand to cup your heat. You glance at the people in the room with you completely stunned and horrified by what he was doing to you in a room full of people. The others are completely immersed in their card game that they have completely dismissed both you and Jungkook’s presence. You stiffen up as Jungkook, slides your underwear to the side without anyone noticing. Panting heavily against him, you grasp in hand in a pathetic attempt to still him which becomes futile after working magic against your sensitive nub. "Wait there's people-ah!" You tremble against him as he works you past the breaking point. "Do you wanna fuck in one or not babe? Just so you know I won’t be taking no for an answer." Jungkook growls as he sucks onto the side of your neck. "I might just have to pick you up and take you against your will." He groans as he rubs against you at a harder and faster pace than he was working you before. "W-Why bother asking me t-then?” You pant and moan as Jungkook teasingly kisses you on the side of your mouth, making you release another wanton moan. "What was that sweetheart? I couldn't hear past your sexy moans?" He teasingly whispers against your neck, making a shiver run down your spine. He smirks before biting your neck. “J-Just,” His teeth gently tugging on the skin with his teeth. "Show me your fucking car."

“Right this way, Princess.”

Jungkook wraps his large hand around your frail trembling one. “I’m not afraid anymore. I want this. I want him.” You chant in your head as Jungkook leans in for another passionate kiss against your now swollen lips. You kiss him back eagerly and without a second thought and Jungkook pulls you swiftly back up to your feet. You both continue to kiss and Jungkook begins to walk you backwards until your back makes contact with a wall in the booth. The cool wall against your warm skin makes you shiver and Jungkook admires your trembling with penetrating dark hooded eyes. You feel fire burn in your stomach as his large greedy hands grope your ass. “You…are… so fucking… addicting.” He harshly whispers between kisses and you smile against his lips. Feeling more self-confident than before. It must be the expensive liquor he was compelling you to consume. “You are not so bad yourself.” You whisper, breaking the intoxicating kiss to look him square in the eyes. Jungkook feels his heart pound against his chest as you adorably smile up at him.

“You’re fascinating you know that?” He unconsciously smiles back down at you with genuine appreciation. He hasn’t felt so content in having someone against him the way you are with him now. He feels adoration for you swell up in his cold heart, filling it with a new sense of warmth he has never felt before. Your heart hammers in your chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. “No. not really but there is one thing I know for sure right now and it’s that I want you so…so fucking bad.” You mutter quietly before pressing your lips firmly against his lips once again. You were never this bold. Never. It must have been the alcohol talking and dangerously revealing your hidden desires. Jungkook is the one this time to form a satisfied smile against your lips as his hands move up from your butt to grip your hips tightly instead. Your anxiety wasn’t there to ruin your night for the first time in a long time and you feel yourself craving him more and more.

Jimin watches the two of you silently from the corner of his eyes with a slight twinge of jealousy. Taehyung, Yoongi, Jin, Hoseok and your best friend are too caught up in their card game to notice what was escalating between you and Jungkook. Jimin, however, was watching the entire thing. Jimin silently averts his gaze back to the game but from the corner of his eye again, he sees Jungkook eagerly pulling you out of the room. “Come on it’s your turn chim chim! Stop getting distracted!” Taehyung exclaims clearly intoxicated and without saying anything Jimin focuses back to his game. “You okay? You look kind of out of it.” Yoongi whispers leaning towards Jimin. "Couldn't be better," Jimin assures him as he glances down at the cards sprawled out in his hands. “H-Hey w-where is…where’s…” Jin murmurs without anyone really noticing or paying attention.

“Where’s (Y/n)?”

With every step, you both take, you felt fire ignite in your belly. The hungry and jealous stares being directed your way which would normally make you feel self-conscious and intimidated made you feel empowered instead. Bodies grind on you as you and Jungkook try to squeeze out of the busy and jam-packed club. You ignore the endless murmurs and glares sent your way and Jungkook turns back to glance at you. When your eyes meet, your heart accelerates at the adrenaline of emotions swerving through your veins. His hands tighten and you feel oddly safe at that very moment. The anticipation of what was going to happen once you both leave Full Moon made you nervous. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you before tugging his lip into a breathtakingly beautiful smile. You could care less about the jealous and nosy people around you. All you wanted was to be with Jungkook. Jungkook smirks down at you sexily before lowering his head to whisper into your ear.

“I can’t wait to leave this place and get my fucking hands on you. You have no idea how good I’m going to please you tonight baby girl.”

You bite back another lewd moaning from escaping past your swollen lips as you grip onto Jungkook’s shoulder roughly. “Jungkook please don’t stop!” You cry out in ecstasy as he slides his rough fingers in and out of your heat. You are both pressed up against his Lambo too preoccupied with pleasing each other to actually get into the vehicle. "You like that?" Jungkook asks smirking, as he peppers sensual kisses against the side of your neck and collarbones as he curls his fingers inside you to hit your g-stop. You moan loudly in response, feeling tears form at the corner of your eyes from the pleasure he was giving you. “You like that?” He asks again a suggestive smirk form on his lips as he moves his head back to observe your pleasured expression from a better angle. You glance down at him with an expression of complete ecstasy written all over your face. He grins in satisfaction knowing he was the cause of your pleasure. Another loud moan escapes you before you finally realise you were both in a very public location. Your eyes widen as you glance around the parking lot, praying and hoping that no one sees the nasty shit that the both of you were doing in public. “J-Jungkook let’s just get into the car!” You exclaim curling your fingers in his hair as he sucks more marks on the side of your neck. “But it’s so nice out tonight. You see how pretty that full moon is babe?” He teasingly whispers onto your skin, making you shudder as warm breath cascades over your sensitive skin just under your ear. He places his hot tongue flat against your neck licking another stripe up your neck, loving the way your pulse throbbed speedily beneath his tongue. You shut your eyes as you felt your heart rate increase from what he was doing to you and the fear of being caught.

"Jungkook p-people c-can see…us. L-Let's just go to your place!" You mutter between moans as he pumps his fingers a tiny bit harder and faster. “Hm, but I asked you a question babe?” He begins to unbutton the top of your collared white shirt with one hand as you shake against him from the pleasure he was making you feel. You hear a group of people laughing as they walk into the parking lot. Your eyes widen in fear as you tighten your hold on him. If they turn around they could easily see you and Jungkook. Jungkook dismisses them completely and continues his torture to your heat. “J-Jungkook there’s people baby there’s people-AH!” You cry out as his thumb presses onto your clit with the right amount of pressure and he begins to do circular motions making your body jolt with added pleasure. “Don't pay attention to anything else but me baby." He orders you while removing his hands off your shirt buttons temporarily to grip your chin between his fingers tightly forcing you to look at him. Just by pure luck, the bass dropped inside the club, successfully muffling your moans from being heard by the group. You scream in bliss as he begins to pump his fingers harder in and out of you. “You didn't answer me yet, baby, do you like what I'm doing to you or not?” He asks you seductively before sucking hickeys on the top of breast peeking out from your bra, as his fingers work to unbutton the rest of your shirt with his free hand that was previously holding your chin.

“Yes! I like it so fucking much.” You exclaim, threading your fingers through his sleek dark brown hair once again. Jungkook hums in appreciation to your response, before tugging your shirt out of your pencil skirt. You release his hair temporarily, as he pulls fingers out of your heat and you sigh in displeasure when you clench around nothing. Jungkook detaches himself from you to throw your shirt into the front seat of his vehicle. It took only a more few seconds to have Jungkook, sliding two fingers back into your heat eagerly. The people leave without noticing the both of you and you moan even louder as he begins to pump his fingers in and out at a rapidly fast pace. “AH!! DON’T STOP! PLEASE DON’T STOP!” You cry out as you grip on his shoulder tightly. “You should see how fucking filthy you look right now. You look so fucking hot baby.” He murmurs sexily, before adding a third finger and increasing his pace. “I’m so close!” You shout in pleasure. “Yeah? Cum for me then babe.” He urges as he continues to suck hickeys on top of your chest and breasts. You cry out in pleasure, as you tremble against him uncontrollably. Your release hitting you harder than it ever has before. You pant against him as your eyes roll back and he looks at down at you with such passion that you felt fire swimming through your veins. You come around his fingers as he works out of your first orgasm. He smiles against your skin, before peppering one final kiss on your neck. Your mind is in a daze as he pulls his soaked fingers out of you slowly before reaching for the car handle. You hear a click before the butterfly car door of the luxury matte back Lamborghini swings upwards.

“Get in.”

So far up to this point of the night and you were getting to know Jungkook. Your first impression of him made you think that he wasn’t so bad. That was until he drove his Lambo that is. You grip onto the car handles for your dear life as he speeds through red lights, making the matte black Lamborghini fly through the city like crazy. The Lambo lit a profound purple colour on the inside, making his already gorgeous side profile look even more dashing alongside the illuminated lights. You hold your shirt to your chest with your free hand to cover yourself. Your eyes are blown wide as your breathlessly gasping for air in terror. “J-Jungkook… d-don’t you think you’re going a bit um fast?” You timidly question him as you keep your eyes glued to the road. Jungkook smirks watching you from his peripheral vision as he holds the leather steering wheel with one hand only. "Don't tell me that your scared baby girl? I thought you were fiercer than that." The engine shrieks as he presses onto the accelerator even harder, practically slamming his entire right foot against the pedal. Your breath hitches in your throat from shock as your back hit the seats from the sudden escalation of speed and he chuckles quietly to himself at your cute response. The wind from the cool night blows your hair back and you shiver from both fright and excitement as he flashes down on the high way. “No…Of course not.” You meekly reply as your grip on the side handle tightens. He smirks at you before changing lanes back and forth like he’s in a game of GTA to beat the traffic. He drives with well-defined skill and without any sense of restraint.

"Hm. You make such an exquisite face when you're scared (Y/n). It's truly intriguing " He says turning his head to face you briefly. You feel your heart skip a beat when your eyes meet his confident and assured ones. "I trust you.” You say beaming up at him and Jungkook is almost taken aback by your genuine response. “I’m the last person you should trust sweetheart.” Your smile leaves him so flustered that he resorts to rolling down his window to get some of the fresh late night air to cool down his flushed cheeks. “Maybe so, but I still want to trust you anyway.” You say gingerly as you take in his gorgeous features, momentarily dismissing the rapid speed his vehicle was going. “You honestly say the most absurd shit.” The adrenaline kicking makes you release the handle and enjoy the fast ride. “I don’t really mind it.” Jungkook smiles as he continues to speed through the city, the ride now becoming enjoyable as you laugh at the overwhelming feelings of attraction overshadowing your fear.

Jungkook looked absolutely stunning, as the wind blows through his chestnut silky parted hair, displaying his forehead. His face is displaying self-assurance and contentment as he drives his luxury car haphazardly. You couldn’t help but watch him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He was so entertaining and assertive that you felt kind of jealous of him. He remained confident in himself. He had everything in his personality that you were lacking. You didn't know if the self-love and confidence he displayed were his true feelings or if he was faking it all. He was just so good at everything he did. That he made you instantly fall head over heels for him. Jungkook senses your gaze and looks at you smiling from ear to ear. Your eyes widen slightly before you are plastering on a fake smile that is futile and does little to nothing to hide your deepest feelings of self-hatred. Jungkook’s smile almost instantly vanishes at your lifeless gaze. He sees through your disguise and places the hand that was resting on his thigh onto the top of your head. Your eyes widen in shock at the comforting pat to your head. “If you’re gonna be lost in thought, can it at least be of me fucking your fucking brains out tonight when we get back to my place.”

You feel heat rush to your core at his response. He smirks as you flush under his heated gaze. "How much longer?" You ask turning your head to look out of the window in embarrassment. "Not very long at all baby. Not very long.” He says making an exit out of the highway into a path that seemed to be heading to the middle of nowhere. "Jungkook?" You turn to face him in slight fear. Could he be kidnapping you? Was he going to kill you and hide your dead body in the middle of nowhere? Countless merciless thoughts consume your attention, making Jungkook chuckle at your moment of panic. "Don't panic just yet baby girl," Jungkook smirks at you before motioning for you to look in front of you. "We're here." Your eyes widen in shock at the enormous mansion in front of you. "Welcome to the Jeon residence (L/N) (Y/N)," Jungkook says coolly as you star struck over the most gorgeous house you ever laid eyes upon. "T-This is your place?" You frantically ask Jungkook, as he reaches out of his car window to press a button. "Yeah well, it's one of them," Jungkook answers you with a sly wink. Your mouth falls agape at his response.

How many properties like this does he own? Can you make this much money selling drugs?

“This is the Jeon residence. Who do we have the pleasure of conversing with?” A voice speaks from the intercom. Your attention still being on the house made you jump a little at the sudden voice coming out of nowhere from the intercom.

“It’s me. Open the gate.” Jungkook says strictly as he straightens up in his seat. "Welcome back Master. Right away." The voice says before the gold-plated gate opens quickly. You watch the gate make a path and Jungkook bites back smile at the flabbergasted expression on your face. As soon as Jungkook speeds to the front of the mansion, there’s a chauffeur waiting for him at the front who opens the door for elegantly, before catching Jungkook’s car keys frantically after Jungkook threw them at him carelessly not even bothering to look where they land. "Park it next to the Bentley," Jungkook says casually before the chauffeur bows in response. "This house is way too big! T-This is actually a fucking mansion! Wait- you live here alone?” You question him hurriedly in amazement while taking the whole house in of its glory. Jungkook chuckles, before intertwining your hands together. “I actually live here with my Family.” The sudden skin to skin contact leaves you flushing in embarrassment and you are quick to tighten your hold onto his hand, fingers threaded together. You both maintain eye contact while his lips tug up on the side into a strikingly handsome smirk. “I wouldn’t want you running away or getting lost.” He says placing an affectionate kiss to the back of your palm. "I wouldn’t even dream of running away.” You chuckle feeling butterflies form in your stomach at the fondness and attention he was giving you. You feel yourself throb for him as the heat of your first intense orgasm lingers, his eyes darken faintly as he tightens his grip on your hand.

“Oh, after you figure out what I’m going to do to you, you might.” He says casually before flashing you a dazzling smile with a wink. You bite onto your bottom lip in anticipation as he opens the front door. “After you.” He says assertively, gesturing you politely to take a step inside the mansion. The massive front doors creak open and you nod timidly before taking a vigilant step through the front door and what it revealed inside left you even more dumbfounded than you were before. “Welcome back Master!” a room full of servants greet the two of while bowing in perfect sync and order. They all looked extremely timid and stiff as they present themselves with cautiousness and well-mannered demeanour in front of Jungkook. Jungkook doesn’t even glance or acknowledge the attentive staff before waving them away. "Leave us be," Jungkook says firmly making them all nod their heads quickly and scatter off in all kinds of different directions after bowing again elegantly, trying their hardest to get away from Jungkook’s presence as fast as physically possible.

“Wow…So all these people serve you?” You ask him, as he leads up the long flight of marble stairs. "Yes, baby girl. They all work for me and my family.” He shrugs indifferently, making you raise an eyebrow in response. “That’s crazy. I can’t imagine having that much people serving me.”

"Oh, I'll serve you so good baby girl. So good, that you won’t be needing anybody else.” He says with a husky voice so enticingly erotic, you feel every fibre in your body jump in expectation. He detaches himself from you before roughly pushing you inside a massive room which must have belonged to him once you both reach the top of the stairs. You scream with a start at the sudden rough push to your body. Your fingers detach from his instantly as you stagger into his large room. Jungkook watches you stumble into the room making him sneer maliciously in response. Trying your best to keep your balance in your heels. Immediately you got the bad boy vibe from how he carried himself and his persona. You quickly glance around the luxurious room and you almost gasp at the expensive interior and spacious size. The room practically screamed Jungkook from its dark colour coordination to his rich feeling silk sheets. It had a walk-in closet, a balcony, a bathroom, game machinery that look like they belong in an arcade, a gym and many more completely extra shit. You spot large monitors on the side of his room with gaming headsets. “This is your room? It’s a separate house in itself." You mutter as you turn your body to face Jungkook. He loosens his collared shirt as he bites his bottom lip while walking through his doorway. “Yeah. It’s pretty impressive.” He checks you out from head to toe and is quick to be back by your side. You instantly notice his change in persona, the polite and attentive Jungkook now nowhere to be seen. He holds your chin turning you to face him and pulls you into another breathtaking kiss that leaves you feeling weak in the knees. His hold on your body is strong and secure as he holds you upright.

The shirt that was flimsily placed back on you gets instantly ripped off, as his rough fingers make contact with the bottom of it. You swore you heard a rip coming from the material, but you couldn’t care less at that very moment. Jungkook’s desirous hands grope and glide across every curve of your body. His kisses were intoxicatingly breath-taking and experienced. “Why am I not getting sick of kissing you?” He teasingly whispers as he walks you back, pressing you against his large pool table. “I wonder.” You murmur in response sending him a playful smile before you both pull apart briefly and you practically rip off his expensive vest and dress shirt. He smirks at your enthusiasm and lets you undress him keenly. Your eyes widen in shock at the rock hard abs and honey coloured skin he was hiding underneath, with even more sexy tattoos sprawled across his sides and chest. Your unbelievably needy at this point and Jungkook smirks down at you so erotically that your breath hitches in your chest at his attractiveness. This guy was oozing with so much sex appeal that it was insane. “Please just take me.” You murmur in desperation and Jungkook chuckles before unbuckling his belt. "Oh, I will." He murmurs as tenses his body to accentuate his lean muscles.

“Like what you see baby?” He growls, pushing your body even harder against the cold hardwood of his table, as he drowns in your scent and soft flesh overwhelming his senses completely. You nod your head sternly, your eyes staying glued to his rock hard abs and honey skin. “Yeah? Cause I know I do. Damn.” He says placing wet kisses down your neck retracing his previous steps and admiring his marks that he left on your skin at the carpark. Your chest rises and falls with every deep breath you take and Jungkook admires that. You gulp in anticipation as his rough fingers glide over your bra strap, slowly moving the fabric down and he continues his sensual kisses onto the newly exposed skin. Your fingers run through his hair as you take in every single one of Jungkook’s actions, trying to lock them deep into your memory. Jungkook sucks another hickey before practically ripping your bra off of you.

You hear a soft “fuck” leaving his lips as he takes in your breasts, before latching onto your left nipple. You moan out loud in both pain and pleasure while your hands grab at his tattooed arms. As he sucks and tugs onto your delicate flesh and nipple his hands grasp both your breasts squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure. Making your back arch off the table. He gives the right nipple the same attention as the left before one of his hands slides down your body teasingly. “You are so good at this!” You screech as he makes contact with your swollen clit. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He replies teasingly, keeping eye contact with you as he slides pencil skirts zipper down painstakingly slow. “Please hurry up Jungkook.” You groan at his deliberate slow pace which makes him smile friskily down at you in response. Usually, this sort of response from a woman sent him haywire. He did not like people rushing him or commanding him in any shape or form but Jungkook didn’t really seem to mind it coming from you.

“I just want to take my time undressing you while admiring your beauty.” Your whole body flushes at his sly comment and you mentally curse him for always knowing what to say to get you riled up. Once it hits the floor, you push Jungkook off of you with as much force as you could muster, knowing he was much stronger than you. He barely moves back an inch at the force of your push but for your sake moves back anyway watching you with slight confusion perceptible in his dark onyx eyes. You smirk up at him coyly before falling down onto your knees in front of him. His confusion is quickly wiped away by an assertive smile and he threads his rough fingers through your hair instantly when he realises what you were up to. You can see him through his dress pants and he watches you in a mixture of both complete disbelief and amusement. You look up at him as if you were asking for permission and he nods his head impatiently in response, his fingers threading into your hair harsher and you smile at the suggestive tug to your locks, hands reaching to pull down his zipper. His pants fall to the ground quickly without anything there to hold the trousers on his amazing body.

You bite back a gasp at how big and hard he looked through his underwear. The outline of his length protruding and thick as well as how defined and muscular his thighs were. “Shit…” You mutter before feeling him over his underwear. “I think I’m the one with the better view here between the two of us.” Jungkook sheepishly murmurs, his eyes hooded as he peers down at you. Admiring you just in your underwear with your breast bare. “We’ll see about that.” You mutter looking up at him through your lashes, before tugging his underwear down and you move your head back quickly to avoid being hit in the face by his impressively large and thick cock. You hum in pleasure at the size and he ushers you with a suggestive smile to take him in your mouth.

“Come on baby girl…give it a taste.” Jungkook guides you while threading his fingers through your locks once again, completely messing up your hair but keeping your hair from falling onto your gorgeous face. “Gladly.” You whisper, before placing a kitten lick to his leaking tip. It had been so long since you got laid that you felt the excitement as you lick a slow long stripe from the base of his shaft to the tip. "F-Fuck." Jungkook moans, tightening his grip on your hair. "Take your panties off baby girl and pleasure yourself while you suck my cock.” You immediately obey sliding off your panties, before licking your fingers and circling your clit while simultaneously sucking his large cock. “Just like that baby…” Jungkook growls as you bob your head faster while hallowing your cheeks to suck even harder. “Take me into your mouth. Just like that.” You moan with a cock filled mouth and Jungkook forces you harder onto his shaft, making his tip brush against the back of your throat.

You groan at the force but try your best to not gag around his dick as he practically begins to face fuck your mouth. Your mascara and eyeliner begin to smudge at the corner of your eyes as the tears begin to pour down your face. Leaving a trail of streak marks as you keep one hand against his pelvis to steady yourself as your other hand stills against your clit, too focused on pleasing him instead and not gagging. “Keep touching yourself baby girl.” He orders as he slows down his pace, keeping his cock buried into your mouth. You hum in response as you begin to move your fingers hastily on your clit. Bringing yourself close to your second release of the night. Jungkook sees you panting and twitching and is quick to wrap his hand roughly around you locks before tugging you hard by the hair to pull you off his dick. You cry out in pain and he smirks down at you in response. Completely disregarding your disappointed look on your face from being stripped away from another orgasm. His eyes are following the trickle of saliva running down your chin and dripping onto your bare hickey covered breasts.

“I told you to pleasure yourself but I never said to make yourself cum. I’ll be the one make to you cum. You got that?” He strictly pronounces without any hint of playfulness in his lust filled eyes and you nod quickly not wanting to test his patience’s and letting him pull you back up to your feet by your hair. “I’m going to fuck you all night long and you’re going to let me.” You nod enthusiastically and he releases your hair to instead bend slightly to throw you over his shoulder like a rag doll. You cry out in fear as your body dangles on his shoulder. He smacks your ass hard before walking over to his large bed. He throws you onto his mattress and watches your body bounce up and down. Your hands feel at his silky expensive sheets and he smirks down at you before pulling off his Rolex watch and tossing it off to the side somewhere. You maintain eye contact with and him as he walks over to the edge of the bed. His cock standing tall as he grasps onto your feet before pulling your body down to the edge of his bed and slipping off your black heels.

“Let me fucking taste you baby.” Your breath hitches in your throat as drops onto his knees. “You are fucking glistening so beautifully.” He teasingly states as he looks up at you holding your gaze. Your chests rise and fall in anticipation as he bends down to lick a stripe up your heat, his tongue brushing onto your clit. Your back arches off the bed and he smirks before continuing to eat you out like he was a starved animal. Moan after moan leaves you as you grab at his sheets, clutching them tightly. The pleasure causing tears to well up in your eyes once again, making your eye make-up smear even more. “Jungkook!!” You scream his name like a mantra and he lives for every second of it. “That’s it. Say my name.” You cry out in pleasure and he growls in response doubling his efforts before sliding two fingers back into your dripping entrance. He rushes you into your second orgasm of the night embarrassingly quickly and he watches you tremble and shudder against his now drenched sheets. You continue to twitch and exhale in pleasure as he works you out of your high.

“Look at the fucking mess you made.” He chuckles, his chin and lips covered in your juices and you flush at his comment. Your eyes snap open at his comment and you quickly lift yourself up against his mattress onto your elbows. You stare down at him and the mess you made mortified. “I-I’ve never d-done that before.” You shyly murmur and he chuckles bending down to lick up the rest of your release before kissing his way up your body sensually. “Don’t be embarrassed. That was so fucking hot. I am going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before baby. I’ll give you a taste of what it’s to be with me…but first taste how fucking amazing you taste on my tongue.” He pushes his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue and you let him kiss you like no tomorrow. The kiss continues to get heated and you let your tongues collide together again and again. “Jungkook please…please fuck me.” You practically beg once he pulls away slightly. Leaving only a short distance between the two of you. “Please Jungkook,” You look up at him with lust filled eyes and he growls in response.

“How badly do want it?” His curt questions leave you baffled and sexually frustrated. "So fucking bad…please, Jungkook, fuck me, baby, please-"

“Hm, I'm not really convinced." He hums, purposely brushing his rock hard cock against your dripping entrance. You clench around nothing and sigh in frustration. "I want you so fucking bad Jungkook, please I want you to fuck me all night with your big cock, I want you to fuck me hard and stretch me out, use me to get yourself off, I have never wanted to sleep with someone so bad, I want you to fuck my brains out as you promised me Jungkook please, please I want your cock inside me so bad baby-”

“You want me that badly? Well, I better give you what you want baby girl."

You almost gasp at the feeling of his hard cock brushing against your dripping entrance. He watches you favourably and pushes just the tip of his length into you. You quickly clench onto him and moan out loud at the stretch. “F-Fuck you’re so big.” You cry out as he hastily pushes the rest of his thick and long cock in barely giving you time to adjust to his size. You feel yourself being stretched further than you have ever been stretched before. Your mouth falls open at the feeling and you both moan at the pleasant stretch. "And you're so fucking tight. What the fuck? When was the last time you’ve been fucked?” He questions you with a moan as he pulls his hip back before snapping them forward, essentially pounding his hard length back into you firmly and powerfully. It has honestly been a long time since the last time you have had sex and this was definitely giving you more pleasure than your fingers were. You release moan after moan as he continues to stick by his words and fuck your brains out.

He continues pulling his hips back and then thrusting back inside you hard with a satisfying husky groan. He has your back arching and your falling agape with every hard snap of his pelvis. You feel your body sucking him back up and deep inside, his length brushing against all the right places. He growls and grunts sexily as he continues to pound you into his mattress. “You take my cock so fucking well baby.” You reach your arms out to press against the headboard to give you some stability but your efforts become futile as he continues to pound into you faster and harder, hitting that one spot that drives you crazy every time. “Jungkook oh my god!” You moan breathlessly as shoves his whole length hard and deep inside you, stilling himself as you clench and unclench snugly around his length. Your whole body shaking at the pleasure you were feeling. “Jungkook…” You moan his name as you peer up at him with glistening tear-filled eyes. “Fuck baby.” He grunts while imprinting your face and exquisite pleasured expression into his mind as he starts to move his hips again. His large cock once again sliding against your walls wonderfully. Your wetness dripping out of your entrance soaking his sheets with every thrust.

“You look so fucking sexy right now.” He growls hovering over you, admiring the way your face contorts with pleasure with every snap of his pelvis. "Right t-there Jungkook! Fuck! Right there!" You chant as he grips your hips harder, pulling your body down to meet him halfway. The hard pounding to your g-spot leaves you seeing stars and you trembling again as your back arches off his bed and your sensitive nipples make contact with his solid hard chest. You knew you were going to be so sore after this and probably covered in bruises but you honestly didn’t care. He completely ruined you with his rough thrusts, bite marks and hickey covered skin. Not so secretly thought you were loving every second of it. He lets go of one of your hips to press his fingers against your swollen and abused clit.

"Y-You fuck me so well." You cry out as Jungkook continues to assault your g-spot. “Jungkook!” Your eyes roll back as he rubs your clit and the sensation as you on cloud9 as he pounds into you faster. “J-Jungkook s-shit!” You scream in ecstasy as you tighten around his length feeling the familiar bubbling of your release approaching in your belly. He was stimulating you in every way possible. “I-I’m close! P-Please d-don’t stop!” You order him and he smirks down at you sexily. Sweat dripping down his forehead as he intertwines his fingers on your hip with your own. “I’m not planning on it.” You moan loudly, your high hitting you even harder than it has the first time he pushed you past your breaking point before. Jungkook removes his hand off your clit to wrap his fingers around your neck instead. Applying the right amount of pressure and slightly cutting off your airways. Your breath hitches in your throat and you never knew being choked was something that was going to turn you on as much as it did. “Look at you, you little filthy bitch. Taking my cock so fucking well.” He grunts choking you harder. You gasp and tighten around his length as your orgasm was quickly approaching. You silently scream in pleasure as you feel yourself being thrown over the edge once again. Your whole body shuddering at the overwhelming sensation. You release onto his sheets and lower stomach. “Fuck you did It again baby.” He grunts loving the way your face is contorting in pleasure. “So fucking hot.” He mutters as he watches you tremble and shake violently underneath him, tightening extremely tightly around his cock.

“F-Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” Jungkook exclaims as he releases into you, painting your walls. His seeds filling you up. He continues to ram his cock into you, successfully milking himself of his cum. You groan at the overstimulation of him thrusting into you and hitting your abused g-spot. “Jungkook stop please” You whimpered and he shushes you quietly in response. You flinch and twitch as he begins to rub your clit hard and fast. You scream in both discomfort and overstimulation. “J-Jungkook baby I can’t cum again!” You exclaim, feeling the familiar feeling of an orgasm arising in your belly. “Come, baby, just one more. Cum one more time for me.” Your scream as your last orgasm hits you. It does not hit you as hard as the rest of your orgasm of the night but it is enough to leave you with goosebumps and feeling so unbelievably pleasured. You both breathlessly stay in the same position trying to steady your breathing while still being connected and sweaty from the aftermath of a passionate night of love-fucking and rough fucking. You have a gut feeling that he's staring at you and your pleasantly surprised when you snap your eyes open to be greeted by his blissful and content smiling face. He stares at you silently. Chest falling and rising as he takes his fingers off your neck, relishing on the way your skin flushed after the intense love-making you both shared. He observes your completely wrecked form in delight. Loving the way his fingers on neck left a red mark and he moves his hands down your body keeping them locked against your hips instead. You stare up at him bashfully as he continues to observe you. You felt completely vulnerable and bare in front Jungkook as he makes no effort to move from his position even with his now limp dick still buried deep inside you filled with his cum. You couldn’t imagine how messy he made you. You felt only slightly self-conscious as he continues to gawk at you.

“That was… probably the best… sex… I’ve ever had.” You state chuckling between heavy intakes of air as he snorts softly at the comment. "Well, I'm glad because it was…supposed to be your last.” The last part of his sentence gets trapped in his head and he does not physically have the ability to say the words out loud. "Because It was what?" You ask smiling up at him and he shakes his head calmly returning your smile. "Because it was mine too." He says before bending down to capture your lips into another passionate kiss. Jungkook kisses you aggressively with every ounce of strength he had left. You were like a drug giving him energy as he felt the desire to take you all over again. His right hand moves slowly under the pillow next to you. You were completely immersed in the kiss to realise what he was doing. Jungkook's warm hand makes contact with the cool knife located under the pillow. His hand grasped it as he waits for the usual urge to slice your throat open. The kiss is progressing getting sloppier and intimate as your tongues dance against each other. Jungkook is baffled as he feels no motivation to kill you. He releases the knife, choosing to wrap his fingers into your soft locks once again instead. You moan into his mouth at the soft tug to your locks and you cup his face urging him to deepen the kiss. Jungkook sighs into your mouth in response. One of his hands sliding down your body sweaty body.

He breaks the kiss, eyes lingering onto your content fucked out expression. Even though your hair was a mess, your make up was ruined and smeared he swore he has never seen anything more beautiful in his life. No expensive car, no paycheck, no drugs could give the rush you gave him. He felt defeated by you in his own wicked game. The urge to kill you never arising in his heart for the first time in a long time. "Would you like to take a shower?" He whispers sensually brushing soothing circles over the skin by your hips with his thumb and you hum in response, eyes slimming into a radiant smile. "Are you going to join me in the shower?" You ask cheekily brushing your thumb against his cheek comfortingly, mimicking his motions on your hip. He smirks in response and places a quick peck on your neck, moving his hips back and pulling his length out of your heat. You both moan quietly at the feeling. You exhale in pleasure at the feeling of his cum leaking out of your entrance. "Of course I'm going to join you. It's my house after all. What kind of gentleman will I be if I do not fulfil my guests' wishes? Especially when she's this fucking fine." He purrs sexily raising an eyebrow at you making you sigh in desire at his suggestive response. "I don't think I can walk, to be honest. You really did live up to my expectations.” You utter sleepily, making him grin down at you. He moves to the side of the bed and picks up a phone placed on top of the bedside table. You watch him groggily and he glances at you before sending a cheeky wink your way, making you chuckle slightly, your greedy fingers gliding against his lean muscles.

“It’s me. I need a maid in here to change the sheets and bring in a pair of lady pyjamas in no less than five minutes.” Jungkook strictly orders on the phone before hanging up and placing it back on top of the bedside table. Your cheeks flush at his authoritarian attitude and the fact that the maids will know he slept with you and ruined his beautiful expensive sheets. He turns to back to you, smirking cockily at your embarrassed expression.

“Now about that shower.”

You fell onto the new fresh silky sheets on his bed completely wiped out and exhausted. You and Jungkook continued your sexual endeavours in the shower and he wasn't exactly an unfit person to get tired easily. It was so mortifying to know that ladies in his room could every single detail of what Jungkook was doing to you. It was hard keeping up with him but it was so damn worth it in the end. You feel your body ache everywhere and Jungkook chuckles and you feel his large bed dip as he plops down onto the bed beside you. "Tired baby?" He asks brazenly, making you hum in response. "You honestly never fully run out of energy do you?" You ask him not really expecting a proper answer. "Now that you mention it. I don't really think I do babe." He cheekily responds stroking your hair comfortingly. "Get some rest babe. I am a big sucker for morning sex." You flush at his words. “I could honestly fuck you all day and night.” His smirk never leaving his face. You hesitate to lean towards him, which would seem a little silly after being so intimate with him but you just didn't know if this a one-time thing and maybe he didn't see you as anything more than a typical one night stand. "Am I spending the night?" You ask cautiously and Jungkook's rested eyes fluttered open quickly after those words leave your lips. "Yeah. I don't want you going anywhere." He spoke sternly without any hint of hesitation which shocked you and himself secretly. He had never had anyone stay over before unless they were dead of course. The new side you were bringing out of him scared him deep down inside but he was so far gone for you that it seems to not matter anymore. He was becoming a little possessive in this sense though. "O-Okay."

You were beautiful even with your makeup gone and hair slightly damped after he dried it. Your skin glows and bloomed with his marks. His fingers twitched at his side as he felt an overwhelming desire to touch you and feel you again. "Come here." He ordered, lifting his sheets up slightly and you flush at the sight of his solid abs being exposed to your greedy eyes once again. Did he always sleep naked? You exhale quietly, feeling anxious as you slide across his bed, falling deep into the security of his strong arms.

“If Jeon Jungkook finds out were detectives were all going to fucking die tonight!”

Jungkook wraps his arms around you securely and your heart begins to pound against in your chest as Jin's previous words of warning begin to replay in your mind. You were pretty much sober now and fully aware of the position you were in. You look at Jungkook's face and sigh in relief when you noticed he was sound asleep. "This was wrong…so fucking wrong." The realisation of the situation started settling in and you feel your anxiety return on queue to mess with your ability to think rationally. "What the fuck have I done?" You whisper to yourself as you peer up at Jungkook's face in shame. You were completely overwhelmed by your reckless mistake.

Even though you felt strongly about Jungkook. It didn't change the fact that he was a drug dealer, part of a dangerous mafia group and possibility a murder. You were a detective. The complete opposite of him. You of all people should have known better than getting involved with someone like him, especially not intimately involved. You hear your phone vibrate in the corner of the room and you didn't realise that you had forgotten your bag in his Lamborghini the maids must have brought it up for you. You debated in your mind whether or not to sneak out or to just spend the night. You started thinking over your options and sneaking out without anyone noticing just didn't seem possible in a house full of servants. You were surely going to get caught. You make up your mind to just spend the night and leave in the morning. You hear your phone vibrate once again and you are now fully aware that someone is trying to contact you desperately. "Jin and (B/F/N) must be so worried about me". You thought to yourself as you slowly and discreetly untangle yourself from Jungkook's hold. He doesn't even as so much stir at your movements. You smile in relief that he was, in fact, a deep sleeper. You hold your breath as you tiptoe over to your bag placed against Jungkook's computer chair, silently pulling out your phone from the inside.

8 missed calls from Best Friend

5 missed calls from Jin

1 missed call from Kim Namjoon

You have several miss calls and texts messages from Jin and your best friend, along with a single missed call from Namjoon. You feel a bad feeling wash over you as you quickly begin to reply to your best friend’s texts messages. They have spammed you with how worried they were and how Jin was begging you come to the agency asap. Your eyes stay glued to Namjoon’s text message. He never contacts you this late unless it was something urgent. Your heart hammers in your chest as you unlock Namjoon’s message. Your fingers are trembling as you read his message your mind going haywire as you read through his long text message over and over again not believing what you were reading.

[Kim Namjoon]

3:35 am

Hey (Y/N) I'm sorry for contacting you this late at night but I got some leads on the case we are investigating. We found out that the killer is a guy in his early twenties. His father owns one of the most well-known mafia organisation in the world. They specialise in the illegal exportation of cocaine. He has killed multiple people throughout the years and some of his victims are not women. His last victim name was Scarlett Brooks, 22 years of age and she was last seen walking out of the club Full Moon last week Friday night around 12:30 am. We believe he goes by the name Jeon Jungkook. I have already contacted Jin and he is at the agency. I need you to get here as soon as possible. Once again sorry for contacting you so late.

You almost drop your phone in shock. You feel your chest grow cold in fear as tears well up in your eyes as you turn around hastily to glance back at Jungkook who was sleeping peacefully in his bed. He looks almost boyish as he snores quietly his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. Your chest aches as you fight back tears. Your mind going crazy as you hurriedly try to collect your thoughts. How Jungkook do those horrible things to those innocent women? You used to think you had a good understanding of people and their inner intentions. How could you have given a blind eye to someone as heartless and merciless as Jungkook? Maybe Namjoon was wrong? It was a possibility. A very low possibility but still a possibility. You reminiscence on the way he held you and kissed you. There was no way it could be Jungkook. You felt a panic attack begin to start and you try your best calm yourself. It can't be. It can’t be Jungkook. Please don’t be Jungkook. Not Jungkook. You didn't know if you were being rational or naïve. For the first time in a long time, you weren't thinking like a professional but instead, you happened to be wishfully thinking.

[You]

4:10 am: I’ll be right there.

You reply back to him with a curt reply, your hands trembling as you type the message which is supposed to be simple but because of your shaky hands, it takes longer than usual. Your phone vibrates again in your hands and you open Jin's text message, biting onto your bottom lip in unease. You bite onto the flesh unknowingly hard, causing the skin to break and blood to come dripping out. The iron taste of blood leaves an unpleasant flavour in your mouth as you open Jin's newest text.

[Jin]

4:12 am: I know that you are with him…Jimin saw you guys leaving together. I know you might not believe me but It's him (Y/N). Jungkook's the killer. That ruthless killer that decapitated and dismembered those women and men! Please tell me your safe.

[You]

4:12 am: I just saw Namjoon's text message. I'm sorry for the late reply! I'll meet you back at the agency ASAP.

You quickly snap a reply to Jin as you gather your clothes debating whether or not to catch an Uber home. Your phone percentage was exceptionally low and you mentally cringe at the red percentage displaying that you had 20% battery left. You look at your ripped blouse in agitation. How the fuck were you going to escape without being noticed? You leave the silk pyjama shirt on your body but you change back into your pencil giving up on finding your bra is this very dark room only being lightened by a little light from the full moon outside. You throw your PJ pants into your purse and flinch in shock at the sudden vibration coming from your phone. You glance at your home screen while placing your free hand over your racing heart.

[Jin]

4:15 am: THANK GOODNESS YOUR OKAY!? WHERE ARE YOU?? DO YOU NEED ME TO PICK YOU UP??

4:15 am: We were so worried about you

you have no idea.

4:15 am: I'm sorry for not paying enough attention

[You]

4:16 am: I'm okay Jin! I shouldn't have left the club and made you guys worry. I'm sorry. I'm okay though and I'll meet you back at the agency.

[Jin]

4:17 am: Okay but promise me you'll call me or message me if anything happens? Just please be safe and be smart. Message me as soon as you get here.

[You]

4:17 am: I will! See you soon!

[Jin]

4:17 am: See you! Remember to message me if anything happens!

Once that message sends, you are quick to place your phone back into your purse quietly, trying your best to make as little noise as possible. You exhale shakily as you try your best to calm your nerves. You felt confused and conflicted after thinking about everything that has happened tonight with Jungkook. It's not like you just liked him because of sex appeal. You peep at Jungkook quietly walking over to the edge of his bed. His beautiful sleeping face was being illuminated faintly by the moon. He was so gorgeous. You instantly jump out of your trance when his face contorts in discomfort. It was almost as if he was in some kind of pain as he releases a grunt in his sleep. His chest begins to rise and fall at a faster pace as he inhales and exhales faster. Was Jungkook having a nightmare?

"Please forgive me father…," Jungkook mumbles as he begins moving his head from side to side. You feel your heart drop instantly at the anguish in his expression. You knew he was hurting. "Please father…don't…don't hurt me." He chokes out, his body now trembling slightly. Sweats build upon his forehead and you couldn't tolerate watching him suffering any longer. "J-Jungkook…" You stutter quietly while brushing his fringe out of his eyes gently. Jungkook instantly captures your hand, making you flinch in shock at his sudden contact. Your heart races as you think he has woken up. He continues to snore peacefully making you exhale in relief. It was so wrong caring for your enemy but you couldn't help it. You were acting by your heart, not your mind.

Getting out of the Jeon's residence was a struggle and so astonishingly stressful. The maids almost seem stunned at your presence. As if they were expecting you to be dead. You feel a chill run down your spine at the thought. You almost felt dirty. Even though you have already showered you wanted to take another. You wanted to remove every trace of Jeon Jungkook on your body. You walk past a large gold-framed mirror in the hall of the mansion. Your eyes almost popping out of your head at the numerous hickeys covering your neck and chest. What the fuck is Namjoon going to think if I show up like this? They were so obvious and dark. There was no way in hell you could show up to the agency looking like this.

“Oh, it’s you (Y/N).”

You jump in fear at the familiar voice coming from close behind you. You look back horrified as Park Jimin stands there with a smug expression on his face. He is still wearing the delectable attire that he was wearing at the club. He looks at you up and down. You flush in embarrassment as the catcalls at the sight of your hickey covered skin. "Looks like you and Jungkook got along quite well last night." There was a hint of teasing his statement that left you feeling almost ashamed at your reckless behaviour. "What is it Jimin?" You rushed him with the question as you gulp, turning your head stiffly as you avert your gaze to the clock hanging up by the stairs. It was well past 5 am and you couldn't believe he was still up at this time. "Are you in a rush sweetheart?" Jimin answers your question with a question of his own as he smirks at you. "No. Not at all." You curtly reply, averting your gaze back to his and he chuckles quietly. His eyes roaming your dishevelled appearance.

"Did you just get here?" You ask politely and he nods his head in response. "Yeah, I thought I'd stop by and see if you were still alive." Your eyes widen in shock at his statement and he chuckles quietly, pushing his hands into his pants pockets leisurely. "Just kidding sweetheart. No need to give me that look." He looked a little tipsy as he gazes at you with a suggestive smile. His cologne and the smell of alcohol clouds your senses and he is loving every second of your timid attitude. "Do you like Jungkook?" His question catches you off guard and you nod bashfully in response not wanting to make anything worse for yourself. "Well, …that's a shame. I really wanted to leave with you and give you some good Park Jimin head. I ain't messing with Jungkook's girls though. He'd probably shoot me, but if you ever get tired of him, I'm here and more than willing enough to give you some good dick." Jimin smirks and removes one of his hands from his trousers to cup your face in the palm of his hand gently. You stiffen at the sudden contact before taking a quick step back, creating some distance between you and Jimin. "I'm sorry Jimin but I-I really um have to go." You say hastily before twisting on your heels and bolting down the stairs of the mansion. You feel almost breathless as you make your escape. Your legs still excoriatingly sore from Jungkook's intense fucking, leaving you to feel a little unsteady on your feet. You feel Jimin's eyes glued to your back, making you want to escape faster. Jimin watches you leave with a wide grin plastered on his face. His phone vibrating in his pocket only captures his attention briefly. He reaches into his pocket before pulling out his phone and clicking the answer button.

“Hey Taehyung …yeah I just made it to Jungkook’s and you won’t believe it. The girl is still alive. (Y/N) is still alive.”

“Is she now? Well if she is alive…it probably won’t be for long.” Taehyung’s statement leaves Jimin slightly baffled. “What do you mean?”

“She does not work for a publishing company. Hoseok did some research and apparently, she's a detective. You are not going to believe who she works for…" There is silence on the line now after Jimin registered the new given information.

“Who is it?”

“She works for Kim Namjoon.”

"Hey, you made it!" Jin exclaims as immediate relief washes over him and he races over to you when you push open the agencies door. It was now approximately two hours after you left the Jeon residence which was an actual pain in the ass to leave considering there was people guarding the gate and no one really wanted to wake up Jungkook to ask him for permission to allow you to leave. After about 30 minutes of back to back chitchat between you and the guards, you were allowed to leave. "Jin! I'm so sorry!" You sob running into his arms and he pats your back comfortingly. "Don't apologise! I'm just glad you're okay." You both pull back from the brief embrace, gazing at each other with a warm smile. "Thanks, Jin…I promise I'll make it up to you and (b/f/n)!" You murmur, feeling guilt wash over you. "No seriously it's okay! We're both just glad that you're safe-"

Jin’s words seem to be getting distance as you ponder on what Jungkook was doing right now. The whole Uber ride you couldn't stop thinking about Jungkook. It was like he was consuming you in every way possible and you couldn't shake the thought of him out of your head. You pondered if he has woken up yet and what he would think when he saw you missing. His presence lingers. Your muscles were sore and your heat was still aching. Memories of Jungkook staying imprinted in your mind and you secretly didn’t want to forget anything that has happened with Jungkook.

“(Y/N) you have arrived.” Namjoon’s stern voice echoes throughout the agencies entrance and you fix your posture immediately as soon as your in his presence. “I-I’m sorry for being late Mr Kim.” You apologise in a dejected tone as you place a hand against the side of your neck to cover a few marks left on your skin by Jungkook without being too obvious. Jin’s eyes widen in shock at the hickeys peeking out of your shirt. "We'll talk in here." Namjoon barely pays your timid attitude any mind as he ushers both you and Jin into his office. "You couldn't get yourself a turtleneck before you came?" Jin teasing whispers in your ear as you both follow behind Namjoon. "Shut up." You spat at him as he looks at you with a shit eating grin. "At least you're okay." He muttered patting you gently on the arm. "I have set up the evidence I've gathered on my pin board," Namjoon says while pointing towards his pinboard which was covered in articles, photos and papers. You feel your heartache painfully when your eyes land on a photograph of Jungkook on there.

"There is security footage of Brooks leaving full moon…she appears to be with Jeon Jungkook. Although the club refused to give us the actual footage there are numerous witnesses that have identified Jungkook as a potential suspect. I have also gathered some past articles on the Jeon family and their past criminal history doesn't look very good. I used to investigate this family and to be honest, I'm not very surprised that it's Jungkook."

The more Namjoon talks the more you feel the need to cry. Jin notices your expression falter under Namjoon's stern voice and he exhales inaudibly not being able to bare your hurt expression. "Jungkook took a few anatomy classes in College which makes sense on how he knows where to slice his victims and he was under arrest a couple of times in the past on several drug and assault charges but was released on bail every time. Even though, I'm positive that Jungkook is suspect we still need to interview a few close friends. This case is going to be one of the most difficult cases to deal with appropriately. The reason why I chose both of you as detectives for this case is that you are both experienced and smart enough to handle it. I have high hopes for the both of you. "

“Yes, sir.”

"At this point of the investigation, I am certain that Jungkook is the one killing all these women and men. What I need from you both now is to go home and get some rest up for the day and to come in tomorrow with a fresh start so we can come up with an appropriate and more efficient strategy on how we are going to handle this situation. You both look extremely exhausted and won't be able to work to the standard that I need from the both of you right now. Do not be late tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?" Namjoon's stern voice and face doesn't leave any room for disagreements. He peers at both you and Jin with the same serious and superior persona.

“Yes, sir!”

“You are both dismissed.”

"Father, why do you hate me so much?" Jungkook asks meekly as he lets his father beat him to a pulp. Blood gushing out from his nose and a bruise forming on both sides of his face. Jungkook is merely a child who was getting used to his father’s abuse. He cries as he tries to fend off his alcoholic father. “It’s all your fault…” His father mutters while hiccupping, as he swings his bottle of whisky at a terrified Jungkook who barely dodges the bottle. The glass shattering everywhere and slicing Jungkook’s skin on his arms and legs. “F-Father Please!”

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU SORRY EXCUSE OF A SON!" His father shouts in resentment as he wobbles over to Jungkook, who tries to scramble away from but ends up cutting himself even further from the glass shattered on the ground. "It's because of you that she died. You were a murderer at birth. I fucking can't stand you. I fucking hate you."

Jungkook sits up on his bed waking up with a start. His chest heaving up and down as he inhales and exhales harshly. His heart racing in his chest as the built-up sweat on his forehead drips down the side of his face. He shuts his eyes grimacing from the sunlight streaking through his large window. "Fuck…it was just a dream." He murmurs to himself in relief as he steadies his breathing with a racing heart. Placing the palm of his hand over his eyes as they adjust to the daylight.

"Jungkook! You up man?" Jimin walks into Jungkook's room standing his door with a cup of coffee his hand. He smirks at the latter before leaning against the door frame while crossing his legs. "Jimin? What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook asks barely acknowledging him as he stretches out his tense muscles. Jimin chuckles before taking a sip of the coffee in his hands. "Had a good night last night?" Jimin's questions make Jungkook recollect his memory. "(Y/n)." He glances down at the side of the bed, frowning when he finds it empty.

"If you're looking for (Y/n), she left early this morning. She was a complete mess when I saw her. I can imagine you had a good time last night…huh, Kooky?" Jimin says smirking at Jungkook who pulls up his covers, sliding out of the comfort of his bed. "What time did she leave?" Jungkook asks bending down and putting on some sweatpants. He was incredibly pissed that you had left without his knowledge. Jimin tenses his face as he thinks. "About 5 in the morning." Jungkook retraces his memory and his smile is unknowingly warm as he thinks about you and what you both experienced the night before. Jimin peers at Jungkook with a shocked expression on his face. Almost dropping his cup at the sight. Jungkook's smile was so sincere and radiant. Jimin was, in fact, witnessing right now one of the most genuine smiles he's ever seen coming from Jungkook in a very long time. "I didn't want to kill her…I didn't want her to leave me, to be honest with you." Jungkook mutters as a grin spreads across his lips. "I love seeing you this happy Jungkook…but I wouldn't be so fond of her just yet." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at Jimin as he sighs with unease. "There is something that Hoseok found out this morning about Jin and (Y/N)…and I don't really think you're going to like it." Jungkook stares at Jimin with hooded eyes. His jaw tightens as he grinds his teeth in thought. "Where's Hoseok?"

"He's downstairs eating breakfast with the rest of the crew."

"I actually liked Seokjin. It's honestly such a pity." Taehyung chuckles as he chews obnoxiously loud on his blueberry pancakes. "We were pretty close in college," Jimin says pouting slightly. "So how are you planning on killing them Jungkook?" Jungkook barely grazes his food as he stares at his plate lost for words. The whole table is tense and Jimin exhales in discomfort for what felt like the 10th time that morning. “I can’t believe they work for Namjoon of all people.” Yoongi murmurs after downing his glass of orange juice. “Yeah, Namjoon has been investigating the Jeon family for years. Wasn’t he the one to place both you and your dad in jail before? He’s a really good detective.” Taehyung murmurs as he continues to chew his food. “(Y/N) must be a good detective too if she’s working for him. Namjoon is a perfectionist.” Yoongi adds as he glances at Jungkook with a raised eyebrow. “If they didn’t work for Namjoon, Jungkook probably would of let them go…” Hoseok smirks as he stares at Jungkook, who glares back at him in response. “What are you gonna do Jungkook?”

Jungkook couldn't help but feel disappointed but he didn't really know what he was expecting from you anyway. Even if you didn't lie to him, why would someone like you want to be someone as messed up like him? Jungkook wanted you though and that was something he couldn't completely deny. "Don't tell me you got a little crush on the detective?" Yoongi mumbles playing with his breakfast. "Hey, she was hot though." Taehyung states chuckling which causes an irk of irritation to bubble in Jungkook. "Jungkook…don't forget that she works for Namjoon," Hoseok states as he observes Jungkook's conflicted appearance. "I know that." He mutters before abruptly standing onto his feet. "Hoseok give me a copy of her details. I'm going to handle her myself."

“Whatever you say, Bro.”

"Wow, Namjoon can be so scary sometimes," Jin mutters as he is driving you home. "I can't believe its Jungkook. I knew he was messed up but not that messed up. It was kind of awkward after you left the club with him. Jimin had this weird change in personality and the others just kept snorting cocaine and getting drunk. I'm honestly surprised they didn't die of alcohol poisoning." You glance out the car window not really in the mood to be talking about last night. "Let's just not talk about last night." You murmur resting your chin on the palm of your hand. "Okay…But I'm curious to know how you and Jungkook left together last night." Your breath hitches your throat at Jin's words. “Please...let’s just drop this conversation.” You murmur as you watch Jin glance down at your phone charging in his car.

"I think your phones vibrating (Y/N)," Jin says not taking his eyes off the road and you nod your head in response even though he couldn't see you. Someone was calling you on no caller id and you were praying it wasn't a scammer or something to annoy you even more than you already were at that very moment.

“Hello?”

"Hey, babe…I missed you this morning." Your eyes widen in shock at the sound of the familiar pet name and husky voice belonging to the very person that was occupying your thoughts.

"J-Jungkook?" You exclaim and Jin swerves on the road. "WHAT? JUNGKOOK? AS IN JEON JUNGKOOK!?" Jin exclaims and you glare at him while placing an index finger against your lip to shush him in response. "It's me, baby. It's so good hearing your voice. I'm getting hard just remembering you screaming my name over and over again last night…" Your face flushes at his shameless response and Jin looks at you mortified. You open and close your mouth not really knowing how to respond to his lewd comment. "I owe you a shirt and don’t forget that you owe me morning sex." Jungkook chuckles. Your fingers clench your phone harder in response. "I-I-Jungkook- Forget about the shirt and I-I don't really owe you anything…"

"Is something wrong (Y/N)? Is there a reason you left so hastily this morning?" The questions catches you even more off guard and when you don't reply he breaks the awkward silence with a chilling laugh. "I supposed you don't owe me morning sex but it really is a pity…I really wanted to get my hands on you and pleasure you past your breaking point just like how I did last night…I know you want me (Y/N) …However, it really is a shame that you do in fact owe me one important explanation…"

"Explanation? I-I don't know what you are talking about." You hurriedly say to him with your chest squeezing in agony. "Tsk, Tsk. Playing dumb now, are we? Oh, beautiful (Y/n). What am I going to do with you?" You gulp embarrassingly loudly as you ponder over his words. He didn’t know you were a detective? Did he?

Jin glances at you multiple times, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. You glance at Jin in distress. "Jungkook…H-How did you even get my number?" There is a slight pause on the line before he exhales in annoyance.

“Listen, I’ll be frank with you (Y/N). I know that both you and Jin lied to me last night. I just want you to know that you ought to be careful when playing in my wicked games…who will win I wonder?”

You feel your breathing become heavier as he sighs into the phone. "Be very careful baby girl. You shouldn't be messing with the wrong kind of people. It will be a shame if something bad was to happen to you. We wouldn't want you getting hurt now do we?"

You hang up abruptly. Your chest contorting painfully as become overcome with emotion. Jin is the first person to break the silence by clearing his throat. "So…you and Jungkook really did hook up last night?" You exhale quietly, in a pathetic attempt to calm your nerves before glancing at him gloomily.

"Yes, Jin…We hooked up."

The silence returns as Jin averts his gaze back on the road. You watch him silently as he presses his lips tightly together face looking like he was deep in thought. His index fingers tap lightly on the steering wheel as he puckers his lips. You knew that familiar cheeky expression on his face.

“So…” He starts glancing back at you with a not so discrete smirk forming on his handsome face. “Was he good at least?”

"KIM SEOKJIN!"

You have never felt so physically and mentally exhausted as you enter your home, nearly dropping dead asleep on the hard floor. First, you had endured everything that has happened with Jungkook and then has to survive Jin's teasing the whole drive home. You slept for a solid 3 hours before you were stirred awake from the ringing coming off your phone. You groan as you groggily search for your phone by tapping on your bed with your eyes closed. Once you made contact with it, you answered it without even bothering to look at the caller id. “Hello?” You sleepily respond, getting agitated by the silence coming from the other end.

“Hello-“

“Open your front door, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Your whole body jolting forward now fully awake. “Jungkook-“

You were interrupted by the sound of beeping. He had hung up on you. You grew tense as you debated whether or not to open your front door or contact someone for help. There was a subtle knock on the door which made you flinch in fear. You quietly crawled out of bed, rushing to your side table, opening the top drawer to grab your handgun which was fully loaded. You were trained for these sort of events. You crept towards your front door, holding your pistol in both hands. You were silently baffled by the absence of a shadow outside your front door. Your heart races as you felt the adrenaline kick in. Your grips on the door handle it tight and you say a quick prayer before swinging the door open and pointing your gun to nothing. You stood there with your hands trembling as you scan your surroundings completely bewildered at no one being in sight. You keep your gun in your hands as you step forward eyes landing on a single package in front of you. You peer at the package with suspicion as you read the note stuck on the front.

“I hope you like your new shirt baby girl. I had to get you only the finest of quality. Think of me.”

- Jeon Jungkook

The call with Jungkook leaves you feeling scared and exhausted. Only he could play with your emotions as much as he did. He even had the nerve to write ‘Think of me,’ at the end as if you weren’t thinking about him enough already. One minute he was making you drown in pleasure the next minute he leaves you sobbing in fear on your cold bathroom floor. Only a few hours after you got home a package came from Jungkook with a brand new designer dress shirt in your exact size. The shirt is branded and is something that you have never ever imagined yourself owning. Not only did he have your number, he knew where you lived as well. How he got his hands on this information makes you terrified.

“What the fuck are you playing at Jeon Jungkook?”

After the package came you decide to call Jin and let him know of the events that have happened tonight. Jin was apologetic, to say the least after informing you that he was at the hospital with his girlfriend who was experiencing immense pain in her abdomen and couldn't stay the night with you. You felt your heart race as you told him it was fine and that you were fine when you really weren't. Hanging up the phone you open your laptop instead, reading through every one of Jungkook's suspected murder cases. You felt a panic attack start to happen as you felt emotionally wrecked. The gruesome details of what he has done to his victims has you feeling nauseous. You weren't as terrified of the thought of Jungkook harming you as terrified as you were at the thought of yourself having some deep feelings for him. You almost felt emotionally attached to him and in a way, you haven't felt towards anyone else before.

"Am I spending the night?" You ask cautiously and Jungkook's rested eyes fluttered open quickly after those words leave your lips. "Yeah. I don't want you going anywhere."

Thoughts of Jungkook comes to you in waves as you retrace the places Jungkook kissed and caressed on your body. You are almost breathless as run your needy fingers over the parts of your body that showed attention which was almost every part of your body. You felt a familiar heat rush to your core and you tried your hardest to resist touching yourself at the thought of him pleasuring you. You exhale in shakily as you slide your fingers inside your shorts. Right before you could circle your clit there was a slight knock to at your door. You are startled when a knock at your door pulls you of your thoughts. You quickly remove your hand that was inside your shorts. Your thoughts become clouded as you swing your legs over the side of your bed. Your feet padded on the ground quietly as you make your way to the front door. It could be Jin and (B/F/N) but as your hand makes contact with the door handle and you pause in your tracks. What if it was Jungkook?

You are frantically rushing back to your room to grab your hand pistol when there is another knock at the door. Swallowing your fear you grasp onto your pistol with trembling hands. You hurriedly rush back to open the door, you point your gun at the persons face and you are wide-eyed at the sight of Jungkook standing leisurely at your front door wearing a suit. He is wearing an even fancier looking suit than last time, which looks absolutely dashing on him. He smirks when he sees your stern face. You almost falter at his gorgeous appearance. Your hands shaking at you point your gun at him. "What the fuck are you doing here?" You question him breathlessly and Jungkook chuckles quietly. "I came to see you of course," Jungkook answers you with a laid-back demeanour, not even a little bit fazed by your gun is pointed at his face. "J-Jungkook…" You stammer as he steps forward. "You look just as inviting as the first night I met you," Jungkook says sighing quietly as his eyes roam your appearance. You weren’t wearing anything fancy. Just a t-shirt and a pair of comfortable short shorts that you wear to bed. You almost blush in embarrassment at how underdressed you were compared to his attire. "Absolutely gorgeous." You flush at his compliment your stern expression cracking as you falter under his intense gaze. "Leave here! Before I-I shoot you. I won’t hesitate to shoot." Your attempt at scaring him didn't seem to work as he chuckles again this time a little louder as he lunges towards you. You pull the trigger missing him as he lifts your hands above your head. Your eyes widen in shock at his speed. His hold on your arms begins to ache as he squeezes your flesh tightly.

"AH! Let go of me!" You cry out in pain as Jungkook walks you backwards, back into your home. He kicks your door close with his foot as he steps inside. Your hold on the gun becomes weak and Jungkook hits it out of your hands. You yelp in fear as you watch the handgun slide across your living room. "That's not how you greet someone baby girl." You struggle in his hold and Jungkook exhales in annoyance. "LET ME GO! YOU-YOU MURDER!" Your words make Jungkook heart twinge in pain and he glares at you with hooded eyes. His jaw tensing as he pushes you down onto your couch. "L-Let me go! Get off of me!" You screech, feeling warm tears slide down your cheeks. “Just leave me alone!”Jungkook's eyes widened at the sight of your tears, your face contorting in pain. His hold on your wrists loosens slightly as he stares at you dejectedly. "J-Jungkook…" You whisper as he moves his face closer to yours. You stare at him wide-eyed as the tears stop running down your face. "J-Jungkook what-" You watch his handsome face inch closer as the familiar smell of his cologne sets you surprisingly at ease. He shushes you and you watch him completely mesmerised as his thumb soothes the skin at your wrists that had a red mark on them from him squeezing your wrists too tightly.

"I'm sorry…" He whispers before pressing his lips to yours. It takes you a moment to realise that he was kissing you. You stop struggling altogether as you slowly close your eyes shut, completely immersing yourself into the kiss. His taste and the familiar sensation of his lips on your own has you seeing stars. You felt warmth rush to your heat and he deepens the kiss when he realises you weren't going to resist. He smiles against your lips and you feel your heart flutter at the action. When you both pull apart he peers at you with a surprising soft expression. You scan his face, taking in every single detail you possibly could and imprinting it into your mind. "(Y/N)…" The way he says your name makes you weak and you look up at him curiously. "Yes?" You whisper, unconsciously smiling as Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours. He looks conflicted as he debates whether or not to continue with what he was about to say. You usher him on by tightening your hold on his hands. Jungkook looks down at you surprised by your actions and you force a small smile up at him in response.

"I-I think I'm in love with you." He confesses just above a whisper and you feel butterflies begin to form in your stomach as he presses another soft kiss to your temple. "I can't stop thinking about you…" He continues eyes taking in your appearance as you look up at him nervously. "I-I have done a lot of bad things in the past to both men and women. I know you know about everything that I have done and I am not mad at you for resenting me because of it…I thought about everything and I thought about you." His words make your eyes water as you let him continue quietly. "I-I love you. So I'm not going to hurt you…but I do need one favour from you." You raise an eyebrow at him confused by his words. Jungkook waits for you to respond and you ponder over his words feeling nervous over what that favour could be. "And what exactly would that favour be?" You ask trying your best not to stutter and he smiles down at you sorrowfully. His expression is similar to the one he was making when he was having a nightmare the night before and it was painful enough to make your heartbreak. "What is it Jungkook?" You ask quietly waiting patiently for him to respond. "I need you to be the one to kill me." Jungkook's words leave you speechless and you felt your heart constrict in your chest painfully. "W-What?" You ask praying that you heard him wrong.

"I don't see any other way around it (Y/N)…If I get caught by police I'll serve multiple life sentences, or get sentenced to death either way…I don't care if I die. I do not value my life but I value yours. I don't want you to lose your job and If I am going to die anyway I need you to be the one to kill me. Please (Y/N)…Kill me. Put me out of my misery. I don't want to hurt anymore."

You both stare at each other silently, you feel tears stream down your face as you untangle your hands from Jungkook’s. Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock and disappointment but that is quick to change as you wrap your arms around his neck instead. “Let’s just not talk about this right now…Just please kiss me Jungkook." You bring his face closer to yours and you passionately press your lips against his. His lips curl into a smile as he kisses you back with just as much passion. As you both continue to lip lock, your thoughts drift. Jungkook had everything. He was smart, good-looking, wealthy, practically good at everything he did and he even had lots of friends. Even people like him can be unhappy and that was a huge eye opener for you. You weren't the only one suffering, even people like Jungkook had their own fair share of problems. Pushing his past mistakes aside for the moment, all you wanted right now was the comfort and you wanted nothing more than to comfort him too. You despised yourself but it looks like Jungkook despised himself even more.

“Can I stay the night?” Jungkook whispers against your lips and you nod eagerly. “Please don’t go anywhere.” You whisper back before smiling up at him. “Stay with me.” Jungkook kisses you fervently, your tongues meeting and his hands run down your body. The familiarity of the situation makes you feel hot and anticipating eagerly for what’s to come. It was the same Jungkook just this time he was being more gentle. His hands slide up your shirt and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your bare breasts. “I want to put my arms around you. I want to hold you.” Jungkook murmurs against your lips as he kisses jaw and trails wet kisses down your neck. “Look at you. You look so pretty with my marks all over your body. Do you know you left scratches on my back too?” He smirks at the sight of the hickeys he left the night before. “Fuck…” Jungkook growls feeling his heart race as he retraces his steps and you want nothing more than to feel him buried inside you. “You left way too many marks, you idiot.” Jungkook chuckles sweetly and you grin down at him as he curls his fingers at the bottom of your shirt. “Lift your arms up beautiful.” You smile at his command and lift your hands up, so he could easily tug your shirt off your body. He groans at the sight of your naked chest. “I love everything about you.” Your nipples perky and breasts covered in his love bites. He is quick to latch onto your right nipple, his other hand grabbing and fondling with the other. You moan shamelessly loud as he gives the other the same attention. He is unfazed by your hands grabbing at his locks and he smirks against your chest. “Just like that baby. Let me hear you. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

"Jungkook, please…I need you." Jungkook growls as he kisses his way to the waistband of your shorts. "F-Fuck… you're so fucking hot." He groans as he pulls both your shorts and panties off in one swift motion. You are laying there completely bare below him and his eyes filled with lust as you sit up to tug off his blazer and unbutton his white collared shirt. “What’s the rush sweetheart?” Jungkook chuckles at your eagerness and helps you unbutton his shirt. “I can’t be the only one naked.” You flush under his intense gaze and he shrugs everything off besides his tie. You unbuckle his belt and pull down the zipper of his dress pants and he stands up momentarily to tug his pants and underwear off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick and long length. You still can’t get over his size. He winks at you teasingly before tugging his shoes and socks off his feet. You tug him back down onto you with a pull to his tie and he bites his lips at your sexy appearance and actions. You make him sit on the couch as you straddle him keenly. Jungkook lets you push him down and he grabs your hips.

“Fuck baby are you going to ride me?” Jungkook smirks as you look up at him through your lashes. Your fingers are wrapped with his tie as you align him to your entrance with your other free hand. Your wetness starts coating Jungkook’s length and Jungkook groans at the feeling. “Are you sure you don’t want me to eat you out?” Jungkook asks stroking a hand over your thigh. Making goose bumps appear on the skin he caresses. The offer was so tempting but you were in desperate need of his cock stretching you out more than anything. “No. I just really want your cock.” You teasingly murmur, causing Jungkook to bite down hard onto his bottom lip.“Fuck, take my cock baby. It’s all yours.” You pressed together chest to chest and you feel your sensitive nipples make contact with his strong muscular chest. You both moan loudly as you sink down on him. You take a moment to adjust to his size. The stretch is incredible. Jungkook peers at you with lust filled eyes.

“S-Shit.” Jungkook huskily moans as your mouth hangs open. He bites onto your neck and you hold onto his shoulders tightly. "You are so fucking tight." He groans throwing his head back as he holds your hips. "And you're so fucking big." You moan as you start to bounce. Jungkook eggs you on by meeting your hips with his thrusts from below. You feel his length stretching you out deliciously and Jungkook loves the way your sucking him right back up. You continue riding him sensually and Jungkook moans as you tighten around him surprising fast. "F-Fuck you feel so good." Jungkook groans and you nod your head as he meets your thrusts. You gyrate your hips as he hits your spot every single time. You feel your orgasm approaching and he uses his thumb to rub at your clit. You shudder and tremble as you become overwhelmed in familiar pleasure. “Fuck Jungkook!” You cry out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you hard. He holds you steady as you began to quiver uncontrollably in pleasure. Jungkook feels himself chase his own orgasm at the sight of your orgasm and he growls before pulling his length out of you and releasing all over your stomach. You both pant against each other. Your gaze locked on each other. You feel emotions build up in your chest as the adoration you already felt for him starts to grow.

You sit on top of him as you catch your breath. You watch Jungkook's chest rise and fall as he breathlessly chuckles. You smile down at him chuckling with him. Your hand still wrapped in his tie. Jungkook's grip on either side of your hips loosens as he watches you with hooded eyes. "I'm not gonna lie…" You say kissing Jungkook softly on his swollen lips. "I'm kind of liking this wicked game of yours. Even if it does end up killing me."

✎ to be continued ...

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