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ballerinainskzville · 1 year

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Unwell - Hyunjin one shot

Summary: your boyfriend Hyunjin returns from the Maniac tour. But both him and Felix have returned with food poisoning which is why you’re taking care of your sick boyfriend

Word count: 3,2k

TW: naseous, gore, throwing up, fever, vulnerability, dizziness, sensitive bf, caring gf

The Maniac tour was over.

Today marked the day that your boyfriend was coming back home. Back to you.

He had insisted on coming over to your place once he had stopped by his parents too to check on Kkami, so you were waiting with anticipation that both of them would show up any minute. “I’m on my way, wait for me”, was his last message.

Pacing up and down the living room, checking if the food you had cooked still looked edible, skipping steps that you had learned in your latest dance class, you waited.

The doorbell then finally relieved you from the tarnishing wait, and you raced to the front door.

There he was standing, your boyfriend Hyunjin with a bouquet of red roses in his hands. His eyes sparkled when he saw you, his sweet smile on display too. “Welcome home!”, you giggled, the excitement rising in your chest upon seeing him. Taking the bouquet from home he leaned it and stole a peck from your lips before closing the door behind him. “It’s not home when you’re not beside me”, he quoted from a poem he had written a while ago.

Hyunjin had begun writing more and more poetry and occasionally he’d send you his drafts to read. It allowed you to get another glimpse into his mind.

Walking ahead of him, you put the flowers into the designated flower vase next to the TV, in which you always put the flowers Hyunjin would buy you. As often as you told him not to buy flowers every time the old flowers perished, he’d still show up with a new bouquet, insisting he couldn’t help himself when he passed the flower shop a block away from your apartment’s building.

Once you filled up the vase with water, you turned around to look at Hyunjin who was watching you lovingly. If there was one person who could melt you with his eyes alone, it was Hyunjin. Both of your eyes met and you fell into each other's arms. “I missed you”, you mumbled before his lips overtook yours into a feverish, longing kiss. You sighed against his lips, gripping his shirt as you both melted into each other.

It was only you two and the sounds both of you emitted.

Until a low rumble went through the room. Which came from Hyunjin.

“Uh-“, he mumbled and broke the kiss first, holding onto his stomach. “Are you okay?”, you asked him, still holding onto him. He nodded with closed eyes, the hand on his stomach, the other hand resting on your back. “Hungry?”,!you asked. He shook his head again.

That’s when you noticed that Hyunjin looked paler than usual. His warm skin tone was missing the vibrancy glow it usually carried. His eyes were sunken in, too. Your eyes narrowed when you watched him. He was undeniably in discomfort. “What?”, he then said when he noticed your gaze. “You’re not okay, I can see that, dummy”, you nudged his arm. He faked a gasp and moved his hand up to his chest.

“You’re calling me a liar?”

“I’m not calling you a truther!”

You looked at each other before you both fell into a fit of laughter. “No, seriously, Hyun. Are you okay?”, you asked him, playing with the hem of his Celine shirt. He cupped your cheek and caressed it. “Just tired, love.” He kissed your forehead. He felt warm.

“Want to eat? I cooked you something-“, you began but he frantically shook his head. “We ate on our way here. We stopped by our favorite place with the guys”, he told you. “But I told you that I’d cook for you tonight”, you couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated that he’d eat out right before he’d come over. You spend half the day in the kitchen. “I was really hungry after the flight. But… I can eat a few bites. You put so much time into cooking today”, he caressed your cheek and you nodded. “Okay, I’ll set up the table-“, you let go of his shirt but Hyunjin shook his head. “Can we watch a movie while we eat? There’s no need to set up a romantic dinner”.

Now he was truly starting to act weird. Hyunjin chased any romantic gesture he could implement into his life, including having candle night dinners. Which is why you had an impressive stock of candles in your apartment. Mostly, again, gifted by him. When he bought one for himself, he’d get you the same one.

You watched over his expression, trying to find a glimpse of him under the mask of his eternally breathtaking face. “I just want to be close to you while we eat. Or snack, to be precise”, he whispered. You couldn’t say reject his request, you two had been separated by continents for over a month. You had missed him, terribly. “Okay, I’ll bring some of the things onto the coffee table. You choose the movie?”, you pecked his swollen lips once more before you pulled away.

Titanic was the movie choice of Hyunjin. Which was a tad ironic for you but it was one of his favorite movies. Also the movie you both watched in the cinema on your first date. Occasionally taking a bite from the food on the table, Hyunjin was laying on the couch, head resting on your lap. Lost in the movie, you were playing with his pinkish-blonde hair that had grown out longer since the last time you saw him. Now and then, he’d let out an approving sound from his lips. Soon enough, his breathing steadied and he had fallen asleep. You pressed the movie on hold. If there was one thing he was picky about, it was people continuing to watch the movie/episode without him.

Admiring the man of your dreams, you continued to caress his hair lovingly. Not able to put your finger if Hyunjin was slowly burning up or if the heater was warming up the apartment more than usual, you wiped away the pearls of sweat from his forehead. Staying in the same position, with him close to you.

There it was again, his stomach rumpled and Hyunjin shoot up. Defeating his calm nature, he rushed out of the living room towards the bathroom. Within seconds, he was by the toilet seat and heaved out the content of his stomach. You halted by the doorframe, unsure if he wanted your presence as Hyunjin held pride in his appearance. When his stomach began to spasm, his whole body trembling as he held onto the basin with white knuckles, you came closer o him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Let it all out, Hyun. You’ll feel better afterward”, you whispered and he heaved again. You heard his whimpering sobs underneath his attempts to empty his stomach further and it broke your heart. You moved your hand up, moving his hair out of his face until he dry heaved.

You reached out to flush the toilet in case it would further trigger his stomach. Hyunjin buried his face in his hands and began trembling again, painful sobs escaping through the cracks of his mask. Quickly, you took a wet cloth and placed your hand on his wrist. “Let me help you?”, you asked him softly. He looked up from his hands and lowered them when he saw the cloth in your hand.

Silently, you wiped away the corner of his lips, his chin, and his hands before you threw the cloth away too. Feeling a bit cleaner, Hyunjin sighed and rested his head against the bathroom wall. “Hyunjin, you’re sick. You must have caught something while you were on tour”, you commented as you cupped his cheek, caressing it. At the gesture, if he wanted to come into your arms for a hug, he simply shook his head. He looked at you with glossy eyes and pink-tinted cheeks as he was burning under your touch. “Let’s get you to bed”, you told him instead and stood up, before holding your hands down for him to hold on to.

Guiding him to your bedroom carefully, you dimmed the exposure of your light in case it might worsen his situation. Tagged underneath the blankets, only his face was visible. Hyunjin hated sweating but he was too tired to argue against you. He had to sweat it. “Do you also feel nauseous?”, you asked him as you felt up his forehead again. To which he nodded. Confirming the symptom. Probably food poisoning then. “Try to sleep a little, I’m going to make soup for you. You can use the water bottle on the nightstand, you need to stay hydrated”, you explained to him and he just again nodded. “Can you hold my hand until I fall asleep?”, he asked in a drowsy voice. With a nod, you sat down next to him, reaching under the cover until your hand hold his. He instantly interlaced your fingers with each other, both of your fingers’ rings clocking against the material. His eyes fluttered close and it didn’t take him too long until he fell asleep. Mouth open, he lay under the layers of blankets. Your palm felt the sweat in his but you focused on his steady breathing instead. Until you were sure he was in deep slumber, you sneaked out of the bedroom and made your way to the kitchen to make something that might help ease his stomach.

While the soup was cooking, you texted Chan to let him know that Hyunjin wasn’t feeling well. Turns out, he and Felix were sitting at the doctor’s office as Felix was suffering from food poisoning.

Chan: it’s most likely Hyunjin is food poisoned too. Do you think you can persuade him to visit the doctor to get a check-up?

You: I’ll try but you know how he is when it comes to doctors. But thank you for letting me know Chan, and get well soon Felix! I’ll bring by some of the soup later to the dorm

Chan: he says thank you! Take care, both of you

You looked up from your phone when you heard soft sobs coming from your bedroom. Turning down the stove, you rushed back to the bedroom. Hyunjin was sitting on the bed, his white shirt sticking onto his skin with sweat. Face buried in his hands, he cried in solitude. “Oh, Hyunjin…”, you whispered and sat down next to him. “N-no, you might get sick too!”, he moved further away from you which lead him to hit his head on the bed’s headboard. “Shhh-“, he groaned and held onto his head. “Chan is at the doctor’s office because Felix has food poisoning. Which is what you probably also have, considering your symptoms”, you tell him with a soft voice not to freak him out further. “Felix is sick?”, he whispered, lowering his head. You nodded. “They are on their way back to the dorm now”, he then nodded and looked away, shutting down his emotions. “Explains why I’ve been feeling this way…”, he mumbled. “That way, baby?”, you move closer on the mattress, putting your hand on top of his. “Like my stomach curling inside?”, he shrugged before he looked back at you.

He was annoyed. At himself. For being sick in the first place. “It can happen to anyone, baby. We should go to the doctor’s office-“, he began shaking his head before you even finished your sentence. “No! I’ll be fine! I promise. I need sleep… and your hugs would probably help too”, he flipped your hands, his hand on yours now, tracing your skin. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of pink-cheeked Hyunjin drawing invisible circles on your skin. “I’ll cuddle you lots but you have to shower first. The sweat needs to be washed off”

“Im too nauseous to do that”, he mumbled under his breath.

“How about I wash your hair and you wash your body sitting on the shower floor?”, you suggest. He thinks for a bit,knowing that there wasn’t a way out for him. And he felt disgusting sitting in his own sweat. He had no choice other than to agree.

Hyunjin’s body was a sculpted masterpiece. That you couldn’t help but stare in admiration whenever you saw it. His workout routine on top of his dancing lessons had shaped his body into a slim but fit condition that matched his facial features in perfect proportions. He held his looks with pride, knowing that he was attractive. Today, however, his head hung low with missing confidence and strength. He had insisted on washing his body himself without your help. Bickering over how to help him out, you both agreed that he’d led the bathroom door open, just in case you had to rush in.

Couple minutes later, he was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, tucked into his designated robe, his head tilted towards the shower floor as you worked the shampoo into his hair. You tried to be as quick as possible as his posture was cramped and the cold bathroom floor could worsen his stomach issues. Choosing the spray bottle of leave-in conditioner to shorten the washing time, you wrapped a towel around his head and helped him to stand up once you were done. Towering over you, fresh and clean, his cheeks gleamed less pink. He wasn’t as feverish as before but his body was still too warm to hold a normal body temperature.

A sigh escaped Hyunjin’s lips before he threw himself into your arms, wrapping his arms around you. Returning the hug, you hold him close to you, eliminating any space between you two. His head squished but resting on your shoulder, he stood in silence, taking in the comfort he needed. “I’m always here for you, baby”, you whispered and caressed his back. You felt his body rumple in response. As he pulled his face back, he cupped your cheek to caress it, staring lovingly into your eyes. “I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend than you…”

You smiled up at him and booed your nose with his. “I couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend than you”

So you both stood there, in the arms of each other with smiles that could melt the heart of the most cold-hearted person on earth. “Do you think you can eat a couple of bites? I have some drops for stomach issues that help well whenever I’m sick”, you asked as he continued to caress your cheek lovingly. A thinking second later he nodded. “I’ll try. I’m starving… but I’m scared I’ll throw it all up again…”, he mumbled. “I know it’s a disgusting feeling when you have to but I’m here in case you do. You need to nourish yourself too. At least try?”. With a look into your warm brown eyes that brought him comfort, he gave you a nod. “Good, I’ll prepare a tray and you brush your teeth and go back to bed. I’ll spoil you for the rest of the day”.

His lips lifted into a soft smile. “Spoil me, huh?”. You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing what was going on in his mind. “Only because you’re sick. Otherwise I’d demand my princess treatment”, you pucker up your lips gently. As he leans in, he stops. “I’d spoil you more than just princess treatment and you know that, Y/N”. Hearing his voice breathe out your name was like a blessing each time you heard it. It would get never old. At least you hoped so. Unwillingly pulling back, you let go of Hyunjin and ushered him to walk back to the bedroom before you disappeared into the kitchen.

Chicken soup, bread, camomile tea, a bottle of water, painkillers, herbal stomach drops, a bowl with cold water, and a cloth on the tray, you entered your bedroom again. Hyunjin was half sitting, half laying on your bed, checking out the book that you were currently reading that he had found on your nightstand.

“Is it good? Radio Silence?”, he asked and held the book up for you. You were halfway through the book and it was tabbed lovingly.

“It’s really good, you can read it once I’m done”

“I want to read it now”

You squinted your eyes at him, seeing that his playful bratty attitude was slowly returning into his sick body.

He mirrored your expression before he closed his eyes for a second.

And put on his pleading puppy eyes that you just couldn’t resist. And he was aware of them.

Defeated, you huffed as you placed the tray carefully onto his lap.

“I can read you a chapter as a compromise”, he suggested but you waved it off with a smile. “I can read it later too. Do you feel the fever going down? I don’t have anything to measure it-“, you placed your hand on his forehead, then his cheeks. He was burning up again, his cheeks flushed with evidence. This wasn’t going well.

“Let me feed you the soup and then you take the meds. Okay, baby?”, you pressed a kiss onto his forehead and he nodded with a soft smile. “I’m a bit embarrassed that you have to look after me like a kid tho…”, he said as he watched you stir the soup a bit before holding up the first spoonful. “Nonsense, your my boyfriend. Who’s supposed to look after you if not me?”. He leaned close and took the first spoon. “And I don’t mean your mom”. He chuckled a bit and took the second spoonful. “Thank you, baby. You’re for real a true blessing in my life”. He gave you a weak smile and you feed him a couple more spoons before he signaled you it was enough. Hyunjin then chewed on a small piece of bread before he one by one took the meds that you gave him.

“Now let me just put this on…” you said as you ringed out the excess water of the clothe before playing it onto his forehead. He squirmed a little at the contact. “Cold!”, he whined out. You caressed his arm and wiped his cheeks too before you put it back on his forehead. “I’m cold now. I need cuddles. I demand cuddles now”, he sighed dramatically with his eyes closed, arms swaying upwards. You rolled your eyes, even if he wasn’t able to see it before you put the tray safely away on the other nightstand. Then slipped into the bed, head resting carefully on his chest and an arm wrapped around him. “Better?”, you whispered and felt his arms secure around you. “Much better. I’m almost healed”, he whispered back, rubbing your arm. Even if you didn’t see his face, you knew he had his cocky grin on. “I’m still taking you to the doctor if you’re not better by tomorrow”, you then said. “Who needs a doctor these days when you have an Angel by your side? They have better healing powers”, he mumbled, sounding drowsy again. You looked up to look at him, his eyes searching for hours half-lidded.

He looked like a fallen angel with the pink rouge on his cheeks and the glossy eyes. Still eternally breathtaking. Leaning up a little, you gently pressed your lips on his. Demanding as he always was, he leaned in further, and you both began melting into the kiss. Feeling his chest under your hand, you gently pulled away when you heard him grunt. “Are you okay?” you whispered against his lips. “If you continue kissing me, I will be”, he whispered back and tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

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elvenbeard · 18 days

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Soft OTP asks #9???

HIII this took me a hot minute öaskdhfasf. Thank you so much for asking!! I had this in my drafts forever and just didn't get around to editing it, but now finally here we are 👀

Prompts Handsome As Fuck

(Cyberpunk 2077 fanfic, Kerry Eurodyne x V, 1127 words; prompt: Write about your ship getting dressed up in fancy outfits together.)

“You want one of my ties?” V asked, and Kerry had to pause for a couple of seconds to ensure he’d heard him correctly. His hesitation made V’s head appear from behind the open doors of the wardrobe, and his expression changed from neutral expectation to laughter as he saw the face Kerry made.

“A tie? Do I look like I wear ties to ya?” Kerry asked with played offense and gestured at himself up and down rapidly. His shirt was still unbuttoned, he couldn’t find his belt, and he was already looking forward to switching his suit pants for something more comfortable – or nothing – as soon as they were back home later. He hated that the label made him go to this party, a formal cocktail event… that wasn’t exactly Kerry’s specialty, and the dress code only made it worse.

V snickered and the sound pulled Kerry’s thoughts back to the present. He was glad V’d be there with him tonight, happy to come even, as he didn’t get to dress up fancy for his job at the Afterlife really. He could, technically, but he chose not to, for a variety of reasons.

“Do I look like I wear ties?” V asked, posing to showcase his tattoos, fingers running through colorful strands of hair.

“Well, no,” Kerry shrugged, flustered, “Most of the time, at least. Today a little bit.”

V chuckled softly and returned his attention to the wardrobe briefly. He was already pretty much ready to go, dark pants and shirt, a sleek red blazer, his hair slicked back. It was still way shorter than back when they first met, too short for styling it much into a shape he liked. But he’d finally dyed it in his favorite colors again at least.

Kerry smiled to himself, and before getting too lost in thought once again continued to dig through a bunch of clothes on the armchair by the bed. Finally, his fingers got a hold of the smooth synleather belt he’d been searching for. At the very bottom of the pile, of course. He swiftly put it on and flinched slightly when a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

“Sorry,” V whispered apologetically – he really moved too quietly for his own good sometimes.

“Try this one, goes well with the shirt,” V smiled and handed Kerry a dark blue blazer with fine woven stripes of gold.

“That’s none of mine,” Kerry said as V helped him slip into it, expecting it to be just a tiny bit too tight around the shoulders, and the sleeves a tiny bit too long for him. Sharing t-shirts and other stretchy or less-fitted clothes was no issue between them, but when it came to tailored evening wear – or shoes – the problems began. Yet, this blazer fit Kerry like a glove…

“Now it is,” V grinned and, holding on to Kerry’s lapels, gave him a quick sweet kiss on the lips, “Looking handsome as fuck.”

“You… gonk,” was all Kerry managed to say, too surprised, taken aback, fingers trailing over V’s hands first, then feeling the soft, velvety fabric of the blazer.

“This fits me better than my goddamn wedding suit,” he muttered.

“Yeah, cause your stylist has no clue what she’s doing,” V said with a self-confident shrug, and Kerry chuckled.

“Thank you,” he then just said and kissed V back before slowly stepping in front of the mirror to take a look at himself. And damn yeah… he looked criminally hot, the colors of the jacket accentuating his cyberware and eyes, contrasting with his bare chest.

“Think I’m just gonna leave my shirt open,” he said, turning to see himself from different angles.

V laughed as he passed by behind him, and Kerry noticed him checking him out shamelessly. As he should, Kerry had never felt as good in a suit before.

“You can pull it off,” V said.

“You could, too!” Kerry said, gesturing loosely at V’s shirt buttoned all the way to the top.

“Prefer it like this.”

He picked a dark red tie out of the closet then joined Kerry in front of the mirror to put it on. Kerry watched as swift fingers flung the fabric around and skillfully turned it into a pretty knot.

“My father never taught me that kinda stuff,” he mused a little absentmindedly.

V paused for a moment.

“Neither did mine,” he said seriously, “Some guy in an old video tutorial did. Also taught me how to shave.”

Kerry realized his mistake.

“Ah, fuck… sorry, sometimes I…” he started, but V laughed.

“It’s fine,” he said, tie done neat and tidy, and gave Kerry a quick peck on the cheek before turning to leave, “Kinda flattering, in a way. That you forget it sometimes.”

“Love ya. Just the way you are, V,” Kerry said quietly and turned away from the mirror to follow V downstairs. Their Delamain had just passed by the bedroom windows and landed outside.

V petted the cat goodbye, then they both left the penthouse through the northern patio door.

“I didn’t always,” V mused quietly and Kerry almost paused in his tracks, “Love myself the way I am, I mean. Y’know what I bought from my first paycheck that didn’t go straight to Vik?”

“The newest braindance wreath?” Kerry teased.

“Okay… from my second paycheck,” V corrected himself and Kerry laughed.

“Hmm… not sure.”

“A fitted shirt, that actually didn’t really fit me all that well,” V said, “And a worn-out second-hand blazer, and an awful tie. I’d never owned any of those, my mother would’ve tossed it all out the moment she saw it. And even though I looked like shit, the euphoria when I saw myself in the mirror in that fit was unreal.”

So much suddenly clicked into place with V and his clothing choices for Kerry that he’d never considered before. V sighed as they reached the AV, the door sliding open as they approached.

“Kinda dumb, I know,” he said, “Putting so much weight onto a piece of fabric and outdated gender norms.”

“It’s not dumb at all,” Kerry shook his head and took V’s hand as they sat down inside while Delamain gave his little welcome speech.

“I’m a firm believer in ‘do whatever the fuck makes you happy’. Even if it’s something ‘kinda dumb’ like dressing however you wanna. If it makes ya feel good, go for it.”

V chuckled.

“Thank you,” he said quietly and rested his head on Kerry’s shoulder, “Love ya.”

“Love ya, too,” Kerry said, fingers entangled with his handsome date’s, his mainline, his big, unexpected late-life love story that he couldn’t even have dreamed of... The man that kept surprising him each day by showing him new ways to love himself unconditionally.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk fanfic #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #male v cyberpunk #cyberpunk v #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #my writing #in which I am randomly hit by feels as I read through this for the first time in a while and yeah ;___;

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thotsforvillainrights · 3 months

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Heya! I'm usually a lurker, but your writing is good! Please rest and take your time! I've been on a Geten kick as of late, and this idea has been stewing in my head for awhile now, and I love it. May I request headcanons for Geten that has an S/O that is like cowboy mercenary, who really only goes after people who are like just awful. One night, they don't come at all. Hours, late it is because they got badly hurt by a rival merc. They get home, patched up, and then angst into fluff ensues!

(Anon, I know how you feel. I've actually been on a quiet Geten kick lately since the weather in my area has been a bit chilly. My little brain has hatched a few ideas for him that haven't seen the light of day from beyond my drafts. Perhaps this'll help me get the lead out and start everything up)

~Geten's Mercenary S/O~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up|drabble

-He admired you and your strength. Sure at first he was weary of your presence within the upper ranks of the MLA. He wasn't alone so it wasn't like he was delusional in his ideas. Skeptic kept a very close eye on you for a few months when ReDestro announced your joining. Geten wasn't alone in doubting you or your goals here. However, you managed to gain his respect by showing your raw ability both on and off of the battlefield. You weren't tough by one way, but more along when it came to smarts. You had skill/technique that allowed you a success rate of 98.9% when it came to what you did. As a mercenary, you always aimed for much higher than that.

-After a while Redestro started to notice the way Geten was acting with you. He was keeping an eye out this time not as a leader but as someone who sees himself as a guardian over Geten. He'd taken him in at a young age and watched him grow in many different ways. Now the young adult seems to be venturing out into love territory, Rikiya thinks. Why else would Geten always be staring at you cleaning your guns the way that you did? It wasn't just this, but you preferred to keep a singular steed taken care of well throughout your life and used when riding up into the mountains. Geten had taken over most of your chores as he tended to the horse, maybe to gain your favor? Rikiya was left speculating for a while until he finally decided to team you two up specifically.

-It all became clear the more time you spent together that you two had developed feelings for each other. Perhaps the only one more excited about Geten becoming your S/O would be the old man himself. Sure he wasn't a kid anymore, but Rikiya couldn't help but to feel pride for Geten either way.

-Now that you two were together, Geten was able to show more of his emotions towards you while remaining more or less the same in his behavior. He knew you were strong/smart enough to handle yourself when you went off to take care of business but he still felt protective over you. It was more and more lately that he was complaining about you heading out late at night to kill some low-life. You kept reminding him that the cover of the night served you well when it came to stealth. He always folded for you and watched you go off without him. You made sure he didn't regret it by handling up your task fast and returning to him. That's why tonight he wasn't feeling so very well as he watched to clock tick on the wall. This deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach became worse and worse the longer you were gone for. By the time he went out to find you, it was too late. He opened the door and there you were, crawling up the steps covered in blood and scars. How long had you been crawling like this!?

-He wasn't sure what to do in the moment. Panic was overtaking his train of thought. He wanted to call an ambulance, to take you to the hospital, to call ReDestro. What the hell could he do?! Your coughing and feeble speaking his name was enough to shock him into action. He carefully grabbed hold on you and dragged you to the bathroom so he could patch you up. He tried extremely hard to convince you to go to the hospital when he was done but you just wanted to rest. He knew you wouldn't have the energy to argue with him but he respected you enough to care for your wishes. The next morning might have been the first time you two argued as a couple.

-You just remember the exchange in words. The way the conversation had taken a bad turn and the rude words you two ended up letting slip. Both of you had said some things that shouldn't have been said. There were names exchanged and the threaten to break up had been more than enough to weigh heavily on the both of you. Spending some time (about an hour) apart in separate rooms was enough for the two of you to calm down and come back to your senses. Geten wasn't one to apologize for things he deemed unnecessary. However, he found himself on his knees at your bedside...apologizing to you. Showing you his vulnerability all at once. When you'd forgiven him, his heart twisted up into a knot and he felt the familiar uncomfy sensation of tears welling up in his eyes. There wasn't a word spoken more between the two of you as he carefully crawled into bed with you and held you closely. There wasn't a word that needed to be said in all honesty. Your actions spoke more loudly than words.

#i wish i touched more into the cowboy aspect of this #i missed a lot of what i couldve done #im sorry!#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #geten #geten bnha #headcanons

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fenimores-book-nook · 6 months

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My Thoughts ~ 10/23/23

Gooooooood evening, well, evening for me. It is 6:55 PM where I'm at. The other day I wrote up a draft that ended up being Halloween costume themed but I decided not to post it. I don't know why you need to know that information but I feel like it's valid. This post however, is just a little writing thang that I feel like working on right now. :) Who knows what I'll write about in this one, but let's find out.

Now that I have my cozy Christmas jazz on, we're ready to get going. Yes, I said Christmas jazz. I've been feeling very much in a Christmas mood lately. Which is interesting because last year I wasn't, not even really on Christmas Day. But I'm happy about the early Christmas feels this year because I normally love, love, LOVE Christmas. I don't think I've ever not loved Christmas. I think I maybe didn't feel the feelings I thought I would feel and it made me sad. Which is just a part of growing up and getting older, I've found. My feelings and ideas about the holidays are different now than what they were when I was a kid. And that is okay. It just takes some adjusting. ;)

And now, enjoy three holiday photos from last Christmas and a Christmas that was from when I was in eighth grade.

One of my favorite things to do is put on a fireplace with Christmas music playing while decorating our tree. :)

I always love the book-coffee shop I work at during Christmastime. It's always one of the most jolly places to be.

I wanted to include an older photo and when I came across this one, it made my heart happy. :) Here's one of my best friends and I with my pet rabbit I used to have. (his name was Phil)

I think now it's time to move away from the early holiday cheer, don't worry, there'll be more. ;)

Today, I spent the day with my sister, who lives about 45 minutes away from me. I had spent the night at her and her husband's place last night when we watched the TV show, Friends, one of our all-time favorite shows. I honestly do not know how many times I've seen it. I've watched it. A lot. It's one of my favorite comfort shows! After a couple episodes, we watched 10 Things I Hate About You, which I hadn't watched all the way through until last night. I loooove it. It'll probably be one of my comfort movies when I'm in the mood to watch a good chick-flick. After that, we watched A Christmas Kiss. Also one of our favorites, although, in my opinion, the second Christmas Kiss is better. (that one, we watched a bit of today) And finally, the last film of the night waaaaaaaas, drum-roll PLEASE!!...Red, White, and Royal Blue. Which I had read before, FELL IN LOVE WITH IT, and watched it when it came out on Amazon Prime. And now, my sister loves it too. ;) It's SUCH a good rom-com. Yes, I do think the book was better BUT, they still did a fantastic job at the movie. I had forgotten how much I love it.

That was last night, where we also made some Christmas themed bracelets. (yes, my sister is a Christmas fanatic just like me, maybe even more of one)

A Christmas Kiss on in the back. ;)

Today, both my sister and brother in-law had work so I hung out at their apartment, went to a cozy coffee shop, shopped at Spirit Halloween and Dollar Tree a little bit, and then returned to their apartment. A bit later, I left again to go to my sister's work, she's a 3rd grade teacher, so I hung out with her and the kids for a bit. Normally, I am not a kid person. But 3rd graders aren't too bad. Now, I'm not saying I want to be a teacher (nononononono) but maybe I don't dislike being around kids as much as I thought. ;)

Tonight, I'm spending the night in, writing this. I did have a community choir practice going on, but bestie..when I tell you I didn't feel up for it, I didn't feel up for it. Once I came home from my sister's, I took a much needed hour long nap (went to bed at 2 AM) and woke up extremely groggy and didn't snap more awake until, maybe two or three paragraphs into writing this. What better way to spend a night than to stay in, put on soothing jazz music, and write? That sounds pretty wonderfully magical to me.

My cozy night in. ;)

And that was my many thoughts and events of my day today!

Until the next one,

Thalia <3

#blog #cozy night in #christmas #movie night #writing

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teriwrites · 3 years

Text

The Funeral

The chapel was already overflowing with people when they arrived.

Winnie's parents were sitting in the front row, surrounded by family, friends, and acquaintances, all offering their condolences. They had decided against visitation the night before, a choice that had been intended to gently discourage other townsfolk from overwhelming the family with their chatter. Instead, it had merely held them at bay.

Leslie was quick to disappear into the crowd, which Winnie appreciated silently. With a deep breath to steady herself, she stormed forwards, unrepentant as she nudged and pushed people aside. The mass was resistant, at first, but began to part when they realized who was coming through.

Mrs. Pewitt shifted to offer Winnie a place to sit and wrapped an arm around her daughter. As Winnie settled her head against her mother's shoulder, Mrs. Pewitt whispered, "Thank you."

The gratefulness extended not only from Winnie's punctuality, but also due to the effect her presence had on the crowds. They immediately began to disperse following her arrival, though whether this was due to their refusal to cross the young woman on such a delicate morning, or because Pastor Glynn made for the pulpit wasn't clear.

The minister cleared his throat when he reached the front of the chapel, though there was no need. His chapel had never been so packed, or so eerily silent. Every pew was filled, and still dozens of others stood in the back, tightly pressed to take up any vacant space along the wall. Winnie had taken them in at the entrance. Every resident of Bildenbey must've been present for Bran's funeral, even those she knew by face but not by name.

It should have been an honor, but their eager preying on the social gathering turned the solemnity into more of a spectacle. As though Bran was some tragic figure and not a missing child.

#my writing #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #teriwrites #beneath alder creek #bac excerpt #i finally returned to write a bit more of my draft tonight #and to celebrate getting something done after Months #i figured why not share another small excerpt #i'm not gonna say i'm about to become active again #but #if all goes according to plan #this may not be the last time i show up with something to share #[side eyes emoji]

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bangtanintotheroom · 2 years

Text

Center of Attention (M)(Teaser)

• Pairing: Jungkook x (F)Reader/(F)OCs (x2)

• Genre: Non Idol!AU, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 633

• Summary: It was supposed to just be you and your boyfriend tonight but your friends decided to come over for an impromptu slumber party. Of course, he’s not happy about it but he’ll get the attention he wants, one way or another.

• Warnings/themes: swearing, drinking, foursome (M/F/F/F), unprotected sex (for the love of God, wrap it up if you’re participating in group sex PLS), oral (m. and f. receiving), squirting, choking, spanking, dirty talk, begging, hair pulling, voyeurism, creampie, switch!Jungkook, JK is a whiny boi

• Notes: Woooooooo, this is nastyyyyy 🥴 I have never thought I would be writing smut that included more than two people, let alone four, but here we are! This was thanks to an interesting discussion brought up by some anons (OG anon (idk your name but you the GOAT), switchy bi anon and ⚽️ anon get some big kisses from me 😘) on @thirstybtsthoughts ‘s page and shoutout to @4joonkookie ‘s one shot as the kick in the pants I needed to start writing this. It’s out of my comfort zone (in a good way) but I hope I did an alright job (I want the best for my bby boy 🥺)!

•Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask!

“Hey Kookie…”

Jungkook looked up from his drink to see the three of you sitting very close to him now, causing his head to tilt. “Uh…everything alright, ladies?”

You bit your lip, eyes darting to your girls before returning to his. “Yeah, well…we wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Hey, if you guys are trying to paint my nails or put my hair in rollers, I’m not having it!”

Maya rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not it, you dope.”

Jungkook merely raised his eyebrow this time, now looking at you to explain. Licking your lips, you forced yourself to put on a sickly sweet tone. “Baby…the girls and I were talking and well, we feel really bad about interrupting what was supposed to be our night alone.”

“Uh huh…”

Ji-eun scooted closer, resting a hand on his left thigh, causing him to jump at the contact. “It’s not fair to you to have to put up with us ruining that for you…”

“O-Oh?”

Maya followed suit, pressing her palm on his opposite leg now, her grip a little tighter than her friend’s. “So we wanted to make it up to you, especially since you’ve been hanging out with us instead of leaving…”

He swallowed hard. “Y-Yeah?”

Now you came closer as well, ending up on all fours in front of his crossed legs, your eyes piercing his. “We want to make you feel good, Kookie…all three of us.”

It took everything in Jungkook not to drop his cup, channeling that energy into dropping his jaw instead.

Was he drunk? Did he fall asleep and was having a dream that happened to be influenced by the last people he had seen? Or was this really happening?

He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute before opening them back up, still seeing the three of you looking at him with inquisitive eyes.

…This was actually fucking real.

He tried to form something close to words as a response but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he kept stammering, eyes darting to each of the women in front of him. “Th-That…I, but, what? Y-You can’t mean-“

You shared a look with the girls before returning to your boyfriend, giving him a reassuring look. “We’re being serious, babe, but we’re not going to force you if you don’t want to.”

Ji-eun gave him a soft look, gently rubbing his thigh. “It’s up to you, Jungkook.”

Maya patted his other thigh. “Just say no and we’ll drop it.”

All Jungkook could do was look between the hands on his legs and everyone’s faces, his brain slowly processing just what was being offered to him. From what he could pick up, it seemed like this was mainly your idea, not to much of his surprise. The two of you had a pretty open relationship from the start and agreed to be honest if there was ever anyone else who had caught your eye. Until now though, neither of you had gone through with it, satisfied with each other to the point where it was unnecessary to involve a third party. But now that he was in the situation, he had to debate to himself on whether he should go through with it or not.

He toyed with his lip ring as he pondered.

He wasn’t blind; your friends were cute and their personalities, although different, were pleasing to him. The thought of them joining you in pleasuring him made a quiver run down his spine as his mind wandered into just what the three of you would end up doing to him. There was only one way to find out.

“Alright…”

You tilted your head as he made eye contact with you. “Positive, Kookie?”

His eyes steeled as he gave a firm nod. “Yeah…I want it.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2022. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts #bts fic #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n

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albatris · 2 years

Text

hello, hello, sweet friends, dear friends, hi

uhhhhh

yeah, I'm late with the rental car update. it's wednesday. I'm so late it's almost thursday again! and thursday is when updates were originally meant to happen anyway! so uhhhh..... hm

hm.

anyway, I'm still exhausted from melbourne but I'm feeling pretty okay! hope ur all doing good too

this week's mood is I'm getting a tooth pulled on thursday :)))) and this week's jam is "coffee" by jack stauber's micropop

this week's excerpt is? part of a truly meandering little scene that may or may not end up in the final product. you can have it. I'm including the full thing 'cause idk this is my blog and I can post whatever I like even if it's kinda long yeehaw

not all my excepts are this long I promise

also yeah I know it starts in Nat's POV and ends in Quinn's, apparently when I'm drafting I write in the "third-person shitshow" perspective, whose only rule is "????? just do whatever"

anyway hey!!! I love you. have a nice week everybody

tag list n excerpt under the cut <3

Nat shut up and Quinn put their head back down on his lap a third time, still determined to let themself return to napping and make the most of their afternoon off. No sooner had their eyes closed than a new thought started to itch at Nat's mind. New, but not entirely unexpected.

He chewed on his lip. He drummed his hand on the arm of the couch. He tapped his feet on the floor. Grub slunk forward on her belly towards his jittering sneakers, readying herself to pounce on an untied shoelace as it flailed about.

“Quinn,” Nat whispered, and poked them in the cheek. “Quinn, hey.”

They sighed, and one eyelid peeled open so they could glare at him. “What is it this time?”

He hesitated a minute, then reached down to start playing with their hair. Running his fingers through those adorable blonde curls, letting claws trace along their scalp ever-so-softly... a go-to Quinn cheat code. Bound to make them at least slightly more agreeable. “I don’t want to go back to your place tonight,” he said. “I want you to stay here.”

Quinn released a short burst of laughter, which they quickly disguised as a cough. “No, I’m not staying here,” they replied. “You could not pay me to sleep here.”

“No shit, I couldn't pay you. You've seen my bank account,” Nat said, as Grub barrelled into his sneakers and bit at the laces. “Why not, though?"

“This place is so sad. Your mattress is all lumpy. This couch is from—what, a garage sale?”

“Savers,” Nat said helpfully. “Fourteen dollars fifty. Good buy! I remember it was really late by the time I actually got it back here so no one was awake to help me bring it upstairs and it wouldn’t fit in the elevator and I almost cried."

“Huh,” Quinn said, their nose wrinkling slightly, and they moved the conversation along. “Anyway, you’re always awake clanging about with pots in the kitchen making a full fucking meal at three in the morning and this place is so tiny I'm not going to get any sleep. At all."

Nat’s hand paused mid-stroke, unhappily.

“No, no. Keep going,” Quinn said, immediately regretting their bluntness. “I’ll be nice, I promise. Why don’t you want to stay at mine? I thought you liked my house.”

Nat began to trace circles in the fuzz of Quinn’s undercut, and they sighed in approval. “It’s Grub,” he said eventually. “She’s lonely. She misses me when I’m not here.”

“She’s a cat,” Quinn said. “Cats are independent. She’s fine.”

“You’ve never had a cat, have you?” Nat said. “Cats are clingy. Grub cries whenever I’m not home. Riley told me, and then I had to deal with that guilt spiral for a full week.” He pouted. “I don’t want her to get depressed.”

Quinn’s gaze shifted upwards to lock onto him, newly intensified somehow. “Just move in with me then, yeah? You and the cat. Problem solved.”

This time it was Nat’s turn to disguise a laugh as a cough.

“I’m serious,” Quinn said.

“Oh, I know.” The beginnings of a smile twitched his lips upwards, and he shut it down. A smile here was weakness. A smile was a crack in his defences. If he gave Quinn an inch they'd take a mile. “We’ve had this conversation before. We haven’t known each other that long, you know?”

“Yeah, but it’s the only way to stop your cat from being depressed.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Nat flicked them in the jaw. “Anyway, I don’t want Grub at your house. You have too many vampires around. Someone might eat her.”

“No, you can’t pull that card,” Quinn objected. “You’re a vampire. You know better than anyone how stupid a thing that is to worry about. And why would any vampire go for an animal at my house of all places? They’re literally there for human blood.”

Nat did not return to playing with Quinn’s hair this time, and instead folded his arms with a huff of annoyance. Quinn huffed in annoyance louder and more forcefully to establish dominance, and begrudgingly sat up.

“No one is going to want to eat your weird ugly cat,” they said. “That’s how I convinced you to take her, remember? Even a brand new stressed-out vampire like you wasn’t tempted. She’s the single least appetising creature on the planet.”

“Look, she just... has a… unique scent,” Nat said, delicately. "But just because I don’t think she smells edible doesn’t mean everyone else will be the same. I don’t think you smell edible either.”

“Yeah, you do,” Quinn said. “You’ve just somehow convinced yourself you don’t. I smell delicious, thanks, and anyone would be lucky to rip my throat out.” They jabbed a thumb towards Grub, who mrrped in acknowledgement. “That smells like month-old moldy tuna. Kind of looks like it, too.”

Nat gasped in exaggerated horror and reached down to cover Grub’s ears. She beeped happily as she registered his touch, and rubbed her cheek against his palm, completely oblivious to Quinn’s insults. “Don’t say that in front of her,” he scolded them. “She’s sensitive. You horrible, horrible human being. She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.”

“Yes, she’s perfect for you. Two odd little grimy strays."

“Oi.” Nat shot Quinn a pointed scowl, then leaned down to scoop Grub up from the floor and into his arms. He cradled her to his chest baby-style and placed a tender kiss atop her forehead.

Then he was up from the couch, the conversation apparently over. He stepped lightly over Quinn’s backpack and disappeared towards the kitchen with Grub in tow. “We’re having paella.”

“Me and you or you and the cat?” Quinn called after him.

Nat ignored this and busied himself behind the kitchen counter, hoisting Grub up onto his shoulder so she could curl round the back of his neck. Quinn watched him in vague fascination as he waltzed around the kitchen, pulling pots and utensils and ingredients out, all the while humming some made-up little song to Grub that sounded like it consisted mostly of the words so cute, so small, I love you over and over.

It was both infuriatingly inane and infuriatingly cute. An unpleasant jolt of possessiveness twinged right through the centre of Quinn's chest. Nat was at home here. With his silly little cat and his silly little songs and his horrible thrifted couch he’d definitely spent a night sleeping on in the lobby and his clattering late-night cooking sessions. This place was privy to all sorts of private, fond memories and gentle routines Quinn wasn’t. They wanted their house to be full of private, fond memories and gentle routines, too. They wanted him to make it a home, because they didn't know how.

“Fine,” Quinn said. “You want me to stay the night, I’ll stay the night. But you have to promise you’ll think about it, okay? You. Me. Living together.”

"Alex will get jealous."

"Nat."

Nat paused to blow them a kiss and flash them a smile. “I’ll think about thinking about it, how’s that?”

@chaotic-queer-disaster @gnome-boi @polyacery @tracle0 @goosemixtapes @valence-positive @the-one-who-makes-negative-noise @ambiguousfiction @afoolandathief @thepotatowriter @mecharose @vellichor-virgo @flapuflapu @temmies123 @multi-lefaiye

feel free to ask to be added or ask to be removed or ask for my assistance in a particularly difficult boss fight. it is 4am goodnight everybody

#a rental car takes a left down rake street and disappears #rental car updates #nice little change of pace from last update #which i believe was uhhhhhhhhh #nat committing several brutal murders and eating some people #anyway hi taglist. hi! this is my first time tagging my taglist #how scary. how spooky. i am a deeply anxious human being

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supersizemeplz · 3 years

Text

Spend the Night

Erik Stevens x Black PlusSized Reader

Another #supersizedfic short. Ok, so right off the back I wanna say that towards the end it gets explicit. Since I started writing a lot of fluff, I feel so vulgar when I actually write something steamy. I was contemplating on whether or not to post it here but I thought why not. When I say this has been sitting in my drafts forever, I am not exaggerating. I didn’t know exactly what to do with it so I’m just putting it out to be seen. So I hope you enjoy!

The chattering of characters played on the television screen, once amusing to the couple that rested on the earth toned sofa but now was nothing more than background noise as they conversed. It's sound was low in an attempt to not overwhelm them both, becoming aided with the captions on the screen if they happened to want to know what was going on in the movie. Its light spread out to at least a few feet behind the couch where the light over the recently cleaned kitchen island picked up its slack.

This wasn't your first time over his place but you never paid attention to the details. The house was honestly one of the best decorated homes you'd seen other than those from HGTV. You made sure not add those exact words to the compliment to hide your small addiction to the channel. Especially when you could name the patterns of the tile and back splash of his kitchen, then he'd definitely know that you were a homebody. After a half an hour phone call with Erik hours before on your lunch break, he'd persuaded you to spend the night at his place. Easily done since you were already planning to stop by after a few quick errands. He'd promised you to a homemade dinner, Netflix movies, your favorite wine, and a foot rub.

"Shutupp. I do not.." You chuckled at the joke Erik made, reaching forward to smack his arm as best as you could. Being sure not to waste any of the wine that you still had left in your glass. He smirked as he focused back on massaging your left foot, making sure to massage deep to relieve the tension. You relaxed back against the sofa after taking a sip of your wine with a happy sigh. "You cook like a master chef and have the hands of a God. I might have to keep you around Stevens."

He laughed at that, stopping his foot massage for a moment to cover his mouth as to soften his boom of laughter. You stifled a chuckle as he pretended to look hurt. "You might? I see how you really feel." Taking your foot gently, he moved it off of him to the floor. You sat your glass on the table beside you and leaned forward to catch his face, laughing as you seen him trying to stay serious.

"Awww, you know I'm just playing." You cooed as you pressed kisses to his cheek. "..my sensitive baby." He allowed the kisses, giving away his small smile from his dimples deepening. Turning his head to catch your lips in a few kisses, he ended the string of kisses with a deeper one. You hummed in the kiss as he placed a hand on your backside. Gripping the soft cushion just enough to get you stimulated before it was over. You sat there for a moment before opening your eyes and watching him get up from the couch.

"You done with this glass, babe?" He asked, grabbing his own glass before looking to you. You nodded, mumbling a soft 'yeah, I am'. He took the glasses and half empty bottle to the kitchen as he continued his conversation with you. You looked to him, admiring the way his shirt allowed you the sight of his back with small movements and the peek of skin once he reached up to place the glasses in the cabinet.

Standing from the softness of the couch, you adjusted your shirt and followed his faintly scented trail into the kitchen. He always smelled amazing. You hummed your acknowledgement as he spoke on some random topic, still in a bit of a daze from the kiss moments ago. Your arms slid around his body as he chuckled. "And you say I be all up under you." You grinned at his response, shrugging.

"And? You know you love me hugging on you, Stevens. Don't think those dimples of yours don't give away your little smiles." Releasing your grip, you headed off to the bedroom. Sending him a teasing look over your shoulder before you disappeared into the hallway. "Don't keep me waiting.."

Once you made it into the bedroom, you made your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Moments passed before Erik was doing the same, meeting you at the double sink to brush his teeth as well. Now shirtless with his sweats hanging just enough to catch the waistband of his briefs. His chuckling caught your attention and broke your admiration of him in the reflection of the mirror. Finishing up with brushing your teeth and washing your hands, you playfully rolled your eyes and left him to finish his nightly routine.

It felt like he was taking forever to come to bed. Doing that lengthy ass routine he'd done numerous times over the many times you both would facetime as you got ready for bed. You had slipped from the shirt and short set that had only been worn for a few hours, still catching the scent of perfume you dashed on to work like a pheromone. The soft fabrics hit the floor and you adjusted the lace, skin toned underwear that was left. Smoothing your hair down, you looked to the bathroom door as he switched off the light.

Silence. It filled the bedroom and swarmed around the both of you as you stood in front of the bed. The lamp that sat in the corner of the room illuminated your silhouette just enough for him to see the look you gave him. He grinned at your surprise, catching the slight nervousness in your body as he stepped closer. A hum of appreciation left him as he took his time to make it to you. Why in the hell did this man have you feeling like this was your first time? Maybe because it was with him.

Weeks of being wined and dined, fun little outings, nights on the phone, and building sexual tension came to this moment. He'd been a gentleman the whole time. Never pushing the matter on you and waiting for you to tell him what you wanted. And oh how you've wanted him. The thoughts had crossed your mind as well as a few wet dreams that you wouldn't dare let him find out about. Tonight, you decided you were tired of waiting and enduring the sweet torture of his charisma.

He sent a chill over you as he spoke suddenly. "You don't understand what you do to me, do you?" His fingers held your chin, thumb gently massaging the soft skin. "So pretty and delicate.." The darkness of lust clouded his eyes as he gave a slow once over of you. Your eyes admired the soft curve of his full lips instead. He smiled at the fact, chuckling when he seen you take a deep breath.

"Hey.." He caught your attention, speaking softly. "Eyes up here." You finally caught his gaze and he hummed when you did so. Taking a small step closer, he smiled as he leaned to your lips. "I need those eyes to stay on me. You got me?" His lips ghosted yours and you relaxed under his touch.

You gave a small nod as you looked up to meet his eyes. The touch of his fingertips felt like small sparks as they moved across your skin. Hooking beneath your bra strap and easing the band down your shoulder. "I want to hear that sweet voice of yours, baby.." You felt as he trailed them around you to unclasp the hooks at the back with ease. The fabric fell to the floor without a sound and he gave another satisfied hum. "Are you gonna be a good girl and keep those eyes on me?"

"Yes, baby.." You replied, allowing him to admire your lips this time. He gave a small smirk as he mumbled 'That's more like it, baby'. Your nipples were erect from both sexual and actual atmosphere. His thumb brushed over the sensitive bud and you bit your lip to suppress a moan, opting for a slow exhale. He looked to you and you seen a dimple to let you know he was toying with you. Seeing how long you could last with his slow burn.

You caught his lips suddenly, surprising him for only a second. He flowed with your slow kisses, smiling at the hunger in them. A moan slipped past your lips against his this time, fingers dancing at the waistband of his sweats. He chuckles at your lengthy nails attempting to work with the fabric. Taking over when you couldn't focus enough to get it.

"So eager.. Take it slow and tell me what you want me to do." He began to lower the sweats with ease before he slipped the soft cotton fabric from his legs. ".. that sexy ass voice you got and you really think you're not going to use it." A playful scoff followed the sentence before he licked his lips.

You looked to the bulge of his briefs before meeting his eyes again. "I want a taste.." The confession kind of surprised him though his face hadn't shown it. He watched you as you caught his gaze again, groaning when you gently palmed him. "May I?" You teased, using the moment to toy with him in return.

He didn't lose eye contact as you lowered before him. "I'm all yours.." The consent left his lips immediately. You hummed, pressing your lips against the fabric before massaging it. He exhaled as you did so. Your fingers finally caught at the waistband of his boxers to ease them down, and his length eagerly greeted you. That pulled a soft laugh from you.

"It's so pretty.." You mumbled the compliment, not focused on if he'd heard it or not. He groaned as you took your first taste of him. The warmth of your mouth made him pull his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes focused on your slow moments with fascination.

You closed your eyes, taking your time to work him up. He filled your mouth as much as he could before you eased him from your lips, hugging his tip. "Unh uh. What I say?" His hips pushed into your lips gently, enjoying the softness they provided. Opening your eyes, you look up to him as he wanted. He groaned softly as a smirk caught the corner of his lips. "There you go. Keep those eyes on me."

Your right hand left his thigh, lifting up to stroke him. "I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me?" You taunted, freeing your mouth for the moment. His lips parted once your tongue circled his fattened head, going back to work while slurping loudly for his enjoyment. The mumbles he spoke were barely audible over your pleasuring, but you made out some of the words and moan in agreement.

Releasing your lips from him with a pop, you look to his glistening dick. He hums as you stroke him again, trying his hardest not to move his hips in rhythm with you. "You're so fucking pretty.." The repeated confession gains your eye contact with him once again. And he reacts with another mumble of praise. He curses as you stare up at him with a smile. Your full lips all shiny and wet from saliva, matching the coat that covered him.

"Tell me again.." You tease with a sultry voice, seeing him chuckle at your cockiness. He tucks his bottom lip between teeth as amusement taints his features. And he repeats it a little louder. "Good boy." Rubbing him against your lips, you laugh as he weakens and leans forward slightly. The small words of praise caught him off guard, but he couldn't help his body reacting. He was losing dominance and didn't mind it.

"C'mere.." He stops you from your fun, gently standing you up. You squeal as he picks you up with ease. Resting you right above his hardened excitement. He grins as you hold onto his arms for support. "I want my pleasure to come from pleasing you.." Your body falls to the bed with a soft bounce. He rids himself of his underwear fully before he puts his attention on yours.

The light of the dim lamp catches his chain, glinting against his chest and bringing attention to his body. Reaching a hand out towards him, you ran your fingertips along his smooth, yet textured skin. Taking in the scars that he'd told you were a reminder of how far he'd came from unlearning his old ways. You moan as he bends down to press kisses to your tummy, showing it the love it deserved. The kisses becoming sloppier as they continued their way lower.

He hummed as he lifted your thighs, opening them enough to kiss their inner parts. His soft lips left tingles that felt they were going straight to your love button. "She's ready for me, huh?" The light stroke of his finger made you shift your hips closer, resulting in his chuckle. Both of your thighs were placed onto his shoulders and he began his delicate foreplay. Pulling a moan from before your hands found his dreads.

He licked his lips as he admired your body. "Let's see if I can get you to spend the night more often."

__________________

Taglist

@sisterwifeudaku @kumkaniudaku @wawakanda-btch @theunsweetenedtruth @chaneajoyyy @wakanda-inspired @princesskillmonger @liviy00 @xsweetdellzx @muse-of-mbaku @killmongerdispussy @thehomierobbstark @princessstevens @killmongerthiskoochie @cecereads209 @beautifullmelodyxx @soufcakmistress @melodyofmbaku @awerkofart

#black panther #oneshot #black reader #erik stevens #erik x reader #supersizedfic

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

Note

Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!

Storm Before The Calm

Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley

Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.

"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.

Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”

His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.

“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”

Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.

Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.

But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.

Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.

Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.

Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.

Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.

When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.

As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.

You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.

The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.

But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.

You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.

Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.

Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.

Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.

So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.

Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!

"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.

"What for?"

You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.

Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."

You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"

"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."

You scoffed, "What career?"

Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"

"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.

"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"

"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?

"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.

"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"

"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"

"That is so NOT what this is about!"

"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"

Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?

Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.

You needed something to hit.

***

Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.

Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.

"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.

"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.

"Where's the cavalry?"

"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.

"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.

Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.

Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.

Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.

You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.

"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.

"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."

Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.

It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.

He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.

Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.

"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"

"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.

Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.

"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.

You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."

His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.

Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.

When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.

Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.

"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.

"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.

"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.

"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.

"Too bad you don't really have a choice."

You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.

White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.

Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.

"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."

***

When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.

You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.

This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.

You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.

"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.

"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.

A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?

Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.

You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.

On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.

Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.

She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.

You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.

"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."

Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.

Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.

It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.

You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.

"I always keep my promises, Captain."

Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.

Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.

He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."

You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."

"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.

"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.

"I love you."

You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."

You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.

You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.

Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"

She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.

"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.

Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.

But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.

You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.

"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.

He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.

Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.

He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.

And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.

#ben ten omniverse #ben tennyson #ben ten alien force #ben ten ultimate alien #ben 10 #ben 10 uaf #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 original series #ben 10 fanfiction #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 x reader #ben tennyson x reader #ben tennyson imagines #ben 10 alien force #ben ten #ben tennyson imagine

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reidingmelodies · 3 years

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Dinos and Tigers and Donuts, Oh My!

Summary: Spencer wanted one thing this year: for your kids to plan his perfect Father’s Day Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Includes: dad!Spencer, heavy mentions of Father’s Day, mentions and consumption of food Category: Fluff Word Count: 2.6k A/N: This isn’t my favorite, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile all the same! Happy Sunday ♥️

When Spencer was called away on cases your house seemed to lose a bit of its charm. Mornings felt more tiring than ever before, the afternoon slumps dragged on for what seemed like years, and dinners, even with babbling five and seven-year-olds at your side, were a little too quiet.

This time around though, things were different. You woke up to your five-year-old daughter sitting by your feet, her mind preoccupied by one of the search and find books Spencer had bought her the week prior.

The space next to you was empty, a piece of paper lying where your husband previously was, and you knew exactly what it was going to say before you even picked it up.

Good morning, love,

I got called on a case this morning, but it’s local and the team thinks we can wrap it up by tonight. The kids both ate breakfast- and PSA that they were a little too excited I was going to be gone for the day. I don’t know what they’re planning, but good luck. I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

-Spencer

Unlike Spencer, you knew exactly what the kids were excited for, and it had everything to do with Father’s Day being tomorrow- you just hoped he would be home in time to celebrate like he predicted.

You folded the letter and placed it in your nightstand along with the others you’ve found gracing his pillow in years past when your bedroom door opened just the slightest amount.

In walked your seven-year-old son, comically exaggerating his tip toe motions as he stage whispered to his sister.

“Is Mommy still sleeping?” He shifted his gaze in your direction, all effort to keep quiet out the window when he saw your eyes meet his.

“Mom! Guess what?” you opened your mouth to respond, but your daughter beat you to the punch.

“Daddy left for a work trip this morning! So, we can make our plan today while he isn’t here!”

There was no denying that your kids loved their daddy, that was for sure.

“That’s so great!” you matched their enthusiasm with ease, getting ready for the day while they kept brainstorming in the background.

Just last week, you had asked Spencer what he wanted to do for Father’s Day over dinner, and the children were as attentive as ever, eyes wide and lips pursed as they waited to hear the plans for the big day.

But, to their amusement, Spencer’s only plan was that they plan the entire day. His reasoning was that they were the reason he was a dad so they should be the ones to decide what to do, but really you knew the truth was that he overheard their whispers about having the perfect plan for his day.

A plan you were finally going to be let in on, so it seemed.

The three of you made your way down to the kitchen where you settled down with your breakfast, eyebrows raised in enjoyment at your children. They were sat across from you with a stash of markers and fresh index cards, and they had a few stacks of previously filled out index cards resting along the center of the table.

Ah- so that’s where they’re going with this.

It had become a bit of a family tradition to have a family scavenger hunt whenever you had a full weekend together. You and Spencer were all too familiar with the concept of cherishing the time you have with your loved ones, and there were many a weekend where Spencer was called away, or you were busy with a million other plans ranging from extended family gatherings to birthday parties or weddings.

It was all the more reason to make the moments where it was just the four of you count even more- and thus, family scavenger hunts were born.

When they were toddlers, the scavenger hunts centered around finding certain shapes or colors, be it in the house or at the park. Once every item was checked off you would have a family outing of their choice: the go to choice used to be another trip to the park (the one with the ‘fancier’ slides this time), but with the upgrade to slightly harder scavenger hunts centered on science and math they’ve upped their prize to ice cream.

What could you say? They were Spencer’s kids through and through.

“Wow!” you exclaimed, relishing in the beaming smiles on their faces, “do you guys want to make a scavenger hunt for daddy?”

Two enthusiastic faces nodded eagerly in your direction as your son grabbed one of the red markers.

“Yes! And we can have dino pancakes in the morning and get donuts after our scavenger hunt at the zoo- all of daddy’s favorite things!”

Dino pancakes were a Sunday morning staple in your home- you would use a cookie cutter to cut out a dinosaur shaped pancake, and the kids would eat those while you and Spencer would eat the ones with the dinosaur outline in them (and a few regular ones for good measure). But donuts instead of ice cream? That was new.

“That’s a great idea, I’m so proud of you guys for working together to plan this,” you praised, “but why donuts?”

Your daughter peered up from the index card she was drawing flowers on to answer your question, “because they’re daddy’s favorite and it’s daddy’s day!”

“And for our scavenger hunt we want all the animals to spell out ‘best dad ever’,” your son tacked on at the end, already beginning the task of writing numbers and circling them on the front of the card.

That was another newfound tradition for your family. Now that the kids were learning to read, the two of you would try to have the first letter of each answer spell out a certain word or phrase. Sometimes, it would be something like ‘I love you’ or ‘hello’, other times it would be the name of a special someone that would be joining you for ice cream afterwards (so far ‘Aunt Penny’ and ‘Uncle D’ were their favorite ones to come across).

You grinned once more, moving to grab your laptop and pulling the Smithsonian’s National Zoo site up to look at their list of animals.

“Alright, my loves- let’s do this”.

***

Three hours, eleven index cards, one snack break, and two very patient children later, your scavenger hunt was finished, index cards clipped and ready to go for the following morning.

Each index card had blank slots, the number of which corresponded to the name of the animal, on the front of the card with three fun facts written on the back. In retrospect, Spencer wouldn’t even need the slots (or more than one fun fact, to be fair), but you knew he’d make a show of trying to think of each and every animal tomorrow afternoon.

Yet another reason you loved him.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, all of your energy going into spending time with your kids. But once they went to bed, that energy was refocused into prepping for tomorrow to take your mind off the fact that it was nearing 10 PM and your husband wasn’t there.

You couldn’t bear to think of your kids disappointment if he didn’t make it home that night.

Outfits out and pancakes ready to be made, you made your way to the couch when the clock struck 11:30 PM, ready to settle in for a movie while you awaited his return but there was no need- as you walked into the room your husband made his way through the front door. He looked as exhausted as ever, but the glimmer in his eyes proclaimed what you knew to be true.

He was happy to be home.

***

7 AM the next morning found you face to face with two wide eyed children gently shaking you awake, joy radiating from them as they saw that their father was fast asleep next to you.

With much persuasion in the form of puppy dog eyes, you made your way out of bed and into the kitchen to start the first task of the day: dino pancakes.

Your little helpers set the table and brought Spencer’s gifts from the coat closet and into the dining room in the meantime, and as you placed the last pancake on a plate two arms wrapped around you and pulled you back tightly.

“Good morning, darling,” his raspy morning voice brought a soft smile to your face, and you leaned your head back to kiss his lips in greeting.

“Happy Father’s Day, Spence,” you laid another kiss against his lips, pulling back as the patter of little feet made their way into the kitchen.

“Daddy! Happy Father’s Day!”

“Daddy! Come see your gifts and eat pancakes!”

Two little voices fought for the spotlight, and Spencer kneeled to the ground to wrap the both of them in a hug. You laughed at the scene, watching as they squeezed him just as hard before grabbing onto his arm and leading him to the dining room table.

“C’mon, Dad,” your son pulled his chair out and pushed his gifts closer to his seat, “let’s eat and open gifts!”

“Gifts? You guys know I don’t want anything,” his brows furrowed as he looked at you, but you shrugged your eyes and took a bite of your pancakes in response.

“You always say that,” you rightly claimed, “and we always buy you gifts anyway- it’s practically tradition”.

You had a point, there.

Breakfast passed by in a blur of conversation, dad jokes, and present unwrapping. And just like that, Spencer was the owner of new books to pass his time on the jet, a 5k puzzle you were sure he’d solve in an hour flat, and a homemade Father’s Day shirt with your children’s handprints decorating a globe, the words ’Best Dad in the WORLD!!!’ gracing the blank space.

His eyes sparkled when he saw the shirt, and you swore you’ve never been happier to call that man your husband and the father of your children.

Granted, that thought passed your mind no less than fifteen times a day, but still.

Within the hour, the four of you were out the door and on the way to the zoo, Spencer’s Father’s Day shirt proudly on display.

You drove with a grin, the radio turned off in favor of listening to your children explain today’s scavenger hunt to Spencer. They were practically giving a word for word verbatim of what the two of you usually told them pre-scavenger hunt, all the more proof that your kids were sponges.

An equally exciting yet terrifying thought.

You were at the zoo within half an hour, your hand intertwined with your son’s while your daughter latched onto her father, everyone eager to start the scavenger hunt.

“Alright, guys,” Spencer began, “what’s our first clue?”

“Mommy can read it!” your daughter piped up and you nodded, grabbing the small pile from her hands before reading the first card of the day.

“Okay, so! This animal has six letters in its name, and your three fun facts are: whiskers help this animal detect objects around them which helps them navigate the dark, they’re the largest rodents in North America, and when they’re in danger they slap their tail on the surface of the water” you finished your explanation and watched as Spencer’s eyes lit up in recognition, but just as you predicted he dragged the process out instead of guessing right away.

“Hm, it sounds like we should go to the rodent exhibit first!” He proclaimed, and your kids nodded, walking in a row like little ducklings to the exhibit.

The four of you took your time looking at each of the animals, until you came face to face with the animal in question. “Aha! I think the animal we’re looking for is a beaver,” his answer was met with cheers from both of your children, and you wrote the answer in the blank slots before continuing with the hunt.

At the end of the hour you added an electric eel, sloth bear, tiger, dama gazelle, alpaca, and degu to the list. Eight animals down, four to go.

Which was fantastic, considering that your kids were starting to get antsy for donuts.

“Okay, guys! Are we ready for our next animal?” You were walking hand in hand with Spencer, your kids skipping directly in front of you and eagerly shouting in affirmation at your question.

The four of you stepped to the side, and you grabbed hold of the fourth to last index card before reciting the hints.

“Alright so! This animal is two words, seven letters in the first word and seven in the second. They have whiskers that look like mustaches, they’re native to the southwest Amazon Basin, and they have claws on each of their toes but the big one”.

“Hmm.. I don’t know guys, what do you think?” Spencer turned to your children, smiling wide when your son giggled in response.

“We can’t tell you, Dad! It’s a secret”.

Spencer laughed, sighing in defeat as your daughter gestured for him to come closer. He did as asked, leaning down until she able to reach his ear, “I think we should go to the monkey exhibit!”

Her not so quiet whisper brought a smile to both yours and Spencer’s faces, and a grimace to your son’s but to the monkeys you went, where you came face to face with an Emperor Tamarin.

From there you crossed a Von der Decken’s Hornbill and an Eld’s Deer off your list until you had one animal left.

“Alright, my love- last one! This animal is two words, three letters in the first one and five in the second. They mainly eat bamboo, their fur acts like a camouflage when they climb in trees, and they live in temperate forests in the Himalayas,” you finished your spiel with a quick eyebrow raise towards your children, both of which were not so discreetly pointing at the red panda exhibit just a few feet away.

“Is it a red panda?” Spencer asked, giving both your kids high fives when they jumped up and down in excitement.

“Yay Daddy, you got it! And guess what all of the first letters spell? Best dad ever!” your daughter jumped into his arms and Spencer chuckled, spinning her around and laying a gentle kiss on her head.

“Is that so?” he asked, “you three are too nice to me”.

Truthfully, you didn’t think it was possible to be too nice to Spencer.

“How about our last surprise for Daddy now, my loves?” your question was met with enthusiasm from your little family, and you were back in your car and on your way to Spencer’s favorite bakery in ten minutes flat.

As you pulled up to the bakery, two eager children and one extremely happy father made plans as to what donuts they were going to eat.

It was decided that Spencer would get a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles, your son would get a glazed donut, and your daughter would get jelly.

And you? You had every intention to get your favorite too, but above all you were just happy that another amazing Father’s Day was in the books for Spencer.

The seventh of many.

***

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lemonjoonah · 4 years

Text

Level of Restraint (M)

Pairings: Jimin x Reader, Namjoon x Reader, Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 13K Rating: M Genre: Thriller, smut, office AU, BDSM AU Warnings(contains spoilers): This story contains very dark themes and may not be suited to all readers, protected sex (vag+anal), threesome, double penetration, bondage (including partial suspension), dom/sub roles (reader is a sub), praise kink, mild degration, sensory deprivation, spanking, fingering, cum feeding, mild breathplay, sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, discussion of safe word, Namjoon is a professional dom/sex worker, referenced discrimination of sex workers and those who participate in BDSM, public outing of sexual practices, inappropriate workplace relationships, referenced death of minor character, yandere character, misidentified sexual partner, manipulation, bribery, blackmail, implied stalking, violence.

Summary: As a co-founder of a consulting firm you can’t afford to be caught in a scandal. So flirting with your secretary, Jimin, would be out of the question. Giving your client’s son, Taehyung, a reference for a sexual partner would be reprehensible. And having regular paid BDSM sessions with your dominant, Namjoon? That would be a career ending disgrace. It’s too bad the only restraints in life you approve of are the cuffs that bind you to the bed, because there are those hiding in the dark waiting to take advantage.

A/N: A huge thank you to everyone who supported me while writing this story. It was hard not to question the level of darkness this tale descends to. In the end your assurances and aid are the only reason this fic made it to fruition. Upon reading you might notice several thematic references to the ‘Fall of the House of Usher,’ by Edgar Allan Poe and the Greek myth of Tantalus. They are two of my favourite tales, and together they greatly represent the darkened desires depicted in this oneshot.

...

8:55 am KNJ: Good girl.

Your heart races upon receiving the response you’ve been waiting for all morning. The sender had requested proof that you were wearing his last minute gift, and you were happy to oblige with the lewd photo. Finally seeing his simple praise for your efforts makes you grin from ear to ear, as you enter the front door to your workplace’s building. The message will be enough to get you through the day, high on the thought of his praise while his present is wrapped tightly around your ribs. Though the garment may be confining, you’ll endure anything to receive those two simple words.

Reluctantly glancing up from your phone you look ahead to see the elevator closing.

“Hold the door!” You call out, making a run for it. Mercifully the gap between the doors widens allowing you to climb in before it begins the long haul up. Glancing over to your savoir, you find your secretary standing at the panel. “Thanks Jimin.”

“No problem,” he responds with a warm smile. “What floor do you need?” Joking as he pushes the button labelled 14.

You playfully shove his arm while trying to catch your breath. Had he left you down on the first floor there's no telling how long it would be before the elevator returned. The building in which you work has been down to one lift for a couple days, with no promise of when the other will be fixed. It’s not a surprise really, ever since you moved into this complex three years ago you’ve been plagued with breakdowns and shotty utilities. Considering how opulent the tower is, with it’s gilded elevators and halls adorned in finery you expected better, but people often overlook flaws when they have something pleasant to stare at. Allowing the management to slack on some of the failings of the structure.

“Do you think you could send maintenance another message?” You ask your hand clutching your waist to comfort the stitch in your side, no doubt a result of the corset concealed beneath your clothes.

“Consider it done.” Jimin replies, pulling out his phone. “Are you okay Miss?” He asks, your heavy breathing failing to go unnoticed judging from the concern in his voice.

“Fine.” You quickly change the subject, not wanting to linger on your current state. “What’s on my schedule for today?”

“You have a consultation with Mr. Kim of HOC Industries in an hour-”

“Really?” You cut in, confused about the sudden change. “But I just saw him a few weeks ago. Why is he coming in?”

“He didn’t say, I just got a message last night from him stating he required an appointment immediately.”

“That’s not a good sign...” You groan, wondering what information had dropped to spur a need for such an urgent response.

“Afterwards you have an early lunch with journalist Min. Followed by a one o’clock appointment with Jeon Jungkook to go over the new web layout. And the rest of office hours are slated as admin.”

You cringe over the prospect of bookkeeping. Your accountant’s involvement in a recent accident, placed him on an extended leave of absence. Since you are the only other member of your small staff qualified to balance the books, this leaves you burdened with his duties. “Remind me later to make a posting for a temp position.”

“Noted,” Jimin remarks as he continues to scroll through his phone. “Oh and don’t forget, you also have your monthly massage appointment with Kim Namjoon tonight.”

You smile at the thought, you would never forget a booking with him, especially since he’s the reason for your current state of breathlessness. You’ve been counting down the days until you get to see him, with only a few hours left you can barely contain yourself. To everyone who asks he’s a masseur, but the services he provides are far more aggressively intimate than a standard massage. You force a small cough to cover the involuntary moan starting to escape.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s not a complete lie, with the stress from work there have been a lot of restless nights recently, your appointment tonight should help to relieve a bit of that tension. There’s a loud groan as the elevator comes to a stop at your floor. You look up to the top of the lift and over to Jimin with worry, both of you stepping off with haste once the doors open.

Your entire office space consists of only a few rooms. You and Hoseok had started this company only a few years ago, focusing on corporate consultations regarding public image and approval. All things considered you’re doing rather well. With your negotiation tactics, Hoseok's philanthropy efforts, and Yoongi on retainer as your media source, you’ve been able to take on several giant corporations.

As you walk down the hall you find the temperature starting to rise, and upon stepping into your’s and Jimin’s shared office, you’re hit with a wave of heat. You whisper your curses as you check the thermostat which has been jacked to its highest setting and refuses to shift back down.

Giving up on the system you turn to the windows, but even those are a struggle after being neglected for so long. You call out to Jimin for assistance, waiting no more than a second before he is by your side. But even with his help you only manage to open them to the grand extent of a sliver before you’re forced to give in. At least with your office door open there’s now a small draft pervading the space.

“I guess I’ll send maintenance another message,” Jimin chuckles.

“You don’t think he’s trying to push us out do you?” You inquire about the building owner, and one of your own clients. You don’t usually make such bold claims, but with Jimin’s ties to the dubious man, it’s hard not to ask.

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Though I think this is more likely due to his lack of regard for the workmanship going into his properties.”

You nod overlooking the now stuffy room which holds both your desks. It serves its purpose with a sufficient amount of daylight from the large windows, and a partial wall giving you each a bit of privacy. You’d rather not have to leave this building and the status that comes with it, but there seems to be no end with these faulty appliances. “So much for being the height of sophistication.”

While you settle into your workspace you’re already dying from the heat, a sweater and camisole overtop your corset was not the best choice for today, but you didn’t want to risk anyone noticing the garment beneath. As you shuffling through your newsite tabs Jimin readies the coffee maker, returning to you with the first dose of your daily caffeine needs.

“You’re a saint.”

Jimin smiles brightly at your compliment, living for the praise as always. “Do you want some ice on the side?” He laughs as you tug on your sweater to stop it from sticking to your skin.

“Only if I can rub it all over.” You sigh jokingly as you take a sip of the hot beverage.

“I’d be happy to assist.” His smirk and piercing gaze look to be downright serious, his flirtation hitting a new high today.

“Sorry Jimin, I already have a massage appointment later. I think Namjoon would be very upset if you took his job from him.”

“That’s too bad.” He mutters, his lip still curled into a smile before stepping away from your desk. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’d be more than willing to compensate him for his loss.” Jimin has never been shy about his attraction to you, a desire which you most certainly reciprocate, but your own company policies keep the both of you tied to flirtatious word play. With Jimin winning more often than not when it comes to provocative sentiments.

He hangs around on your side of the room, straightening the chairs and stray flies, while you continue your search for whatever prompted the need for your haste meeting. At last you find it, on the featured articles of a prominent celeb news site, with the headline reading, ‘The Dark Desires of the Kim Family Heir.’

Much to your chagrin the issue isn’t regarding your client, but his son. As much as you try to stay out of personal family matters, sometimes they are unavoidable, and this looks to be one of those cases.

‘Kim Taehyung has long been considered one of the most eligible bachelors. He has it all, money, power, and a spot on every top ten most attractive list, but those who have been with him more intimately say he craves something more...’

Your mouth falls open in horror as one of Taehyung's former partners exposes their most intimate moments with him. ‘The Gucci suits and custom cologne are just an expensive mask for the darkness beneath. He would ask to be tied, bound to the bed and struck. He wanted pain and pleasure...’ The further you read the more your chest tightens. You’d rather not jump to conclusions, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it’s true. A fact which must make it all the more painful for Taehyung. You can only imagine what he must be going through, to have such private details exposed and exploited. He’s currently living your worst nightmare, a societal judgement over one's deepest desires. For professional reasons it would probably be best to stay out of this private matter, but you can’t in good consciousness let him suffer alone.

“That bad?” Jimin asks.

“Yeah...” You cover your mouth to hide your shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that threaten to spill on Taehyung's behalf.

Jimin shuffles in behind your desk with you. By lowering himself to read off your screen, his face falls next to yours. His hands come to rest on your shoulders as he leans in to eye the article in question. You should shoo him away, but you can’t help but be curious of his response to those who engage in such practices. As his eyes scan the page his grip on you tightens, his breathing erratic just like yours, with a whispered “‘Fuck,” escaping his lips.

“Are we interrupting something?” A voice calls out from your open door.

Your head snaps over in shock to find your next appointment waiting for you, with his son in tow. You jump up pushing Jimin back so you can greet your guests properly. “Mr. Kim! No not at all, please come in. This must be-”

“Taehyung...” The younger man mutters as he walks in, slumping down in one of the chairs in front of your desk. His sunglasses are still in place, the smell of spirits wafts over you along with the spicy scent of what must be his referenced cologne. He’s a sight to behold, a person of his caliber could make a fortune off his looks alone; he wouldn’t even need a drop of his father's fortune. But of course, that would have been before this public outing of his bedroom tendencies. Now he’s more likely to be seen as a pariah rather than an asset.

Directing the elder to the seat next to him, you take your own once again as Jimin retreats to his desk. You don’t even have the chance to exchange pleasantries before Mr. Kim launches into the purpose of their visit. “I assume you saw the article about my son?”

“I did, but-”

“And? What can we do about it? How can we spin it? Our stocks have already taken a hit.”

“Your son just had a serious breach in personal privacy...” You pause hoping that he’ll have some semblance of a realization that he is not the victim here, instead he simply waits for you to continue. Attempt to hold in your dismay, you give him the only answer you can, “Sue for defamation if you’d like, but whether they are printing fact or fiction the damage is done. The press is still focusing on your family due to your early misdealings in your company. I would argue that if you turn the view of operations around then there is a very good chance that the media will start to back off personal affairs.”

“You can’t expect me to twiddle my thumbs and wait. My shareholders are currently questioning his ability to lead, they might seek to replace him.”

“Good.” Taehyung mutters. “If those prudes have a problem with me, I’d rather not have to work with them.”

You bite your lip to conceal a snort of laughter. Mr. Kim fails to notice but his son seems to have caught your slip, taking off his glasses, he pierces you with a strong gaze.

Kim senior starts up again looking for sympathy and a way out, “Do you know how many of his flings I’ve had to pay off in the past-”

“Maybe you should just stick to your own business.” Taehyung eyes his father darkly.

“They made it my business when they started squealing to the press about what kind of man you are.”

You try to rein the situation in, this battle between father and son having no place in your office. “Mr. Kim! I would actually like to speak to your son for a moment. We can see if there’s a possible remedy for this... exposure.” You stand up, calling over the wall for your secretary "Jimin? Would you mind taking Mr. Kim to see Hoseok?” You turn back to your elder client, practically pushing him out the door into your secretaries’s care. “Jung Hoseok has been continuing his work on your company's philanthropic efforts. I’m sure he would love to show you what he has done with your portfolio.”

“Do you need me to come right back Miss?” Jimin asks with a pleading stare, his eyes flicker over to the young man still slumped in his seat.

“No I think we’ll be okay for a bit.” You mutter to him quietly as Mr. Kim proceeds down the hall. “Just keep him away for a few minutes.”

Once they're both gone you sit back down across from Taehyung with a sigh.

“So are your going to talk some sense into me?” He drawls with disdain.

“Fuck no,” you scoff, rummaging through your drawer. “Can I get you anything coffee, water... advil?” You finally pull out the bottle of pain relievers and offer one to him as you take one yourself, your head ready to explode in frustration over his father.

He tilts his head looking somewhat surprised, “So why did you send him away then?”

“I thought you could use a break. I’ve worked with many people like your father, they all want things done their way, and you’ll never be able to tell them otherwise. He’ll never admit to his faults, and the fact that he’s the real reason the media is all over you. So as long as you don’t tattle on me, we both can make it through this meeting with him thinking that he’s won.”

“Deal,” Taehyung agrees while he chuckles at your ploy.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” You offer once again.

“Actually I’ll take some advil.”

“I thought you might.” You poor him glass from the cooler and offer up the pill. When his sleeve pulls back to reach for the cup you can’t help but notice the glaring red evidence of a rope abrasion on his wrist. While he throws back the pain killer, you take another sip of your coffee rolling the bitterness over your tongue before breaching the difficult subject. “It can’t be easy to have the press prying into every aspect of your private life.”

“It’s not so much that they pry, but...” Taehyung hesitates, his brow furrows as his fingers run through his hair tugging on the strands between his fingers. “People know that they can go to them with a story and make money off any relations I have with them. And the press will gladly pay top dollar for what they have to offer.”

“The story is not a complete fabrication then?” You already know it’s not judging from his father's response and the marks on his arm, you just need to hear him say it.

“No, it’s mostly true.” He admits, watching your reaction.

“Then it would seem that your desires might be thought unconventional by many of your past partners?”

Taehyung nods, taking another sip of his water.

“From one unconventional individual to another,” you pause waiting for your own admission to sink in. To your delight Taehyung immediately perks up listening attentively as you continue. “There are more discreet ways to fill those needs.”

“Are you offering?” He asks, raising a brown along with the corner of his lips.

“No, I doubt that I would be very good at meeting your cravings, since we both hunger the same type of... attention.” You smile back at him, rejoicing in your mutual secret. “But I do have a friend who will take very good care of you. I’m going to give you a name and phone number, it’s up to you if you want to contact them, but I can assure you any conversations or actions between you and them will be kept strictly confidential. It’s not cheap,” you explain, but doubt that’ll be a problem for him. “But I assure you it’s safe and private.”

Taehyung can barely get the information from you fast enough once you jot it down. His hands, reaching for the sheet, accidentally knock over your coffee instead, sending the drink in your direction and staining your sweater. “I’m so sorry, here let me help you.” Taehyung jumps up and runs and grabs napkins from the coffee station.

“It’s fine really.” You assure him, making an attempt to stop him as he starts to blot the saturated material.

Unfortunately it’s at this moment that Jimin walks in to see your precarious state. He stands there for a moment in silence before explaining the reason for his return. “Mr. Kim said he needs to leave soon, Miss. He wanted to see if you two were... finished.” There’s glare set in his eyes for Taehyung's forwardness.

“Yeah, be right there, just one second.” You turn back to Taehyung, exchanging the damp napkin in his hand for the paper you had just written on. “Think about it, I hope you’ll give him a call. I don’t give out his information unless I think it will be of help to someone.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Taehyung mutters quietly while reading the slip. “If I were to go see him, would I find you there too?” He looks back up at you, biting his lip after posing his query.

“Likely not, he keeps his sessions very private, but you can always discuss your...” You glance over to Jimin who is still waiting, and well within earshot. “Preferences with him.”

“Then I’ll consider it, thank you.”

After seeing Mr. Kim and his son off, you're left to deal with the stain on your sweater, with only fifteen minutes before you have to leave for your lunch appointment. “Jimin could you call Yoongi and let him know I’m running a little late? I need to stop by my apartment on the way.”

“No need, I’ve got an extra shirt here.” He pulls out one of his own from his desk. “ I know it’s a men’s fit, but I think we can make it work.”

“Why do you keep that here?” You laugh. He only looks at you and the stain with a raised brow, no words needed to prove his point. “Never mind, stupid question, but I can’t take your shirt Jimin.”

“I insist, go put it on.” He forces it into your hands as you double check your watch, your time constraints leaving you with little choice.

Stepping behind the dividing wall, you strip down to your camisole, breathing a sigh of relief that the beverage hadn’t seeped into the fabric of the corset. Quickly throwing his button up over top and tucking it in, you check to ensure your intimate garment is still hidden relatively beneath the shirt before coming back out for his opinion “Does it look okay?”

Jimin nods, but when he reaches out to touch the shirt you recoil, fearing that he will discover what you wear beneath. He chuckles and persists, “I’m just fixing your collar.” He moves in closer standing just a couple inches away. Pinching the two seams of the fabric together, he considers the change. “I think it would look better like this.” You nod, keeping silent as he follows through. Pulling the fabric tight around your throat, your breathing is forced to pause for a moment as he fastens the top button. “Better?” He asks, while his hands linger around your neck.

“Much.” You whisper, as his fingers drift up to hold your chin, with the tip of his thumb dragging along the edge of your bottom lip. You stand there confused as to why your flirtatious game has taken such a physical turn. Although his actions are prohibited and should be censured, you can’t fully condemn them, deciding instead to remove yourself, rather than reprimand him. “I-I should go. I don’t want to be late meeting Yoongi.”

...

It was a productive lunch to say the least, but that was by no means thanks to you. Your focus was distinctly elsewhere. While you toyed with your bottom lip, thinking of how Jimin had touched it just moments before, Yoongi gave you everything you needed to secure several new clients. Even now as you return, disembarking the elevator on to your floor, you still can’t concentrate on the day ahead.

On the walk back to your office Hoseok catches you, quickly pulling you into his own and closing the door behind. “You need to do something about Jimin.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” You ask, nervous that he had seen you two together before you left for your meeting.

“Your client earlier, Mr. Kim, he said that he caught you two acting rather close, making suggestions that you two are involved in a sexual relationship. Usually I would disregard a comment like his but-”

“It’s not true, you know I wouldn’t!” As much as you might want to act on Jimin’s advances you’ve never crossed that line. You know it must have been bad for Hoseok to bring it up, for him to take this serious tone is evidence of his deep concern.

“I know that, but this isn’t the first time someone has thought you two might be a little too intimate. Some of the staff have also considered the notion. And I can see why, the way he looks at you, talks to you...” Hoseok trails off as his eyes linger on your apparel in confusion. “You weren’t wearing that earlier were you?”

“No, I had some coffee spill on me earlier. Jimin was nice enough to loan me his.”

Hoseok tilts his head as he raises his brow as if this validates his concerns.

“He was just being helpful!” You offer, but Hoseok doesn’t look to be swayed, and he’s right, this is a workplace not a morning after situation. “Fine, I see your point. So what do you suggest?”

“Redistribute him, send him my way if you have to, god knows that I could use the extra hand. You could even play it off as a promotion, just get him out of your office.” Your heart drops at the thought, not wanting to give him up. Hoseok seeing this takes a softer tone. “Listen I can see that you like him too. I’m sure it feels good to have his attention, but you need to get this out of your system. You have to put a stop to it. We can’t afford a scandal and you know it.”

With the assurance that you’ll think on the issue, and giving Hoseok your solution by tomorrow, you return to your office. But the problem is far from easy, though you did not lie about your physical relationship to Hoseok, you have been keeping something from him. From all of them. Jimin will never accept a promotion if it takes him away from you. He’s never worked here for the money, he doesn’t need to when his father owns half of the city, this building included.

...

-3 years ago-

“Mr. Lee, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” You pull out the chair to sit across from him. The massive mahogany desk of his placing a rather large distance between the two of you.

“Yes well, my building manager said you were very persistent.” There’s a small roll in his eyes as he looks from you down to the computer in front of him.

“I wanted to discuss one of your properties, an office space in the Madeline Suites.”

He takes a swift glance at your modest appearance with narrowing eyes. “Forgive me, but I believe that location might be out of your price range.”

“Monetarily yes,” You agree. “But we offer services which might be helpful to you.”

“I do not deal in favours. I can see that this meeting was a waste of time, you may go.” He waves the back of his hand to shoo you out, while his secretary grabs the door from the outside.

“I am not asking for a favour, but offering you my services. I’m the co-founder of a corporate image consulting firm. And come this time tomorrow, I believe you’ll be looking for someone within our realm of dealings.”

“And what makes you say that?” Lee asks, his words laced with cynicism.

You lay out the first page of the article which Yoongi had sent you, stretching it across the wooden surface to place it in Mr. Lee’s view. ‘Real Estate Developer Lee Gungsang Faced Prior Allegations of Unlawful Evictions and Price Hiking.’ “This is slated for tomorrow morning’s front page.”

Mr. Lee is quick to send his secretary off, the door shutting once again. “How do you know about this? These cases were settled before they made it anywhere near the courts.”

“I have my sources.”

“Then stop this! I will pay whomever needs to be paid to prevent this from leaching out. You want the office space, it's yours.” He’s voice is desperate, you have him on the hook, the question now is, how long will he let you drag him for?

“That’s very generous of you, but nothing will stop this from going out tomorrow. My offer is simply to help you get ahead of it and lessen the damage.” You explain, revelling in the fact that money can’t hide everything.

“And how do you propose to do that?”

You pull out a contract for your serves. “I will need you to sign off on my services first. A small fee plus a far more reasonable price for a three year lease of the offices on the 14th floor of the Madeline Suites”

“Without knowing your plan, I think not.”

You give him a bright smile before mimicking his earlier statement. “I do not deal in favours Mr. Lee.”

He grumbles while taking the pen, eyeing you with a dark gaze as he signs on the dotted line.

With the ink still drying you hand over another small document. “Here are a few of my suggestions. Twenty percent of the commercial residences that you have just vacated will be handed over to non-profits for a drastically reduced monthly lease. I’ll even let you pick which you want to support.”

He looks up at you mortified. “This is excessive.”

“No this is necessary. I’ve seen corporations do far more than this when they are not dealing with a scandal. Your accountants will agree with me that this is the best move, it can be seen as a donation and therefore tax deductible. For the evicted private residences, I was thinking of partnering with a refugee resettlement program but we can discuss that more in depth later.”

You carefully tuck away your contract in Lee’s file before dragging another concern to the forefront. “I do have one more request, before I leave today.”

“What more could you possibly want?” He scoffs.

You lean in to deliver your short but important demand. “A heads up.”

“I don’t know what you mean...”

“I mean if there are any other past dealings or actions which might impact your company I need to be aware of them.” There’s always more hidden in the dark, you have one of those secrets on hand now. You need to see if he’s willing to be upfront with you on every dealing of his past, otherwise you might be forced to dig him out from another grave a couple weeks from now.

“There’s nothing else.”

“Nothing?” You ask again as you pull out your phone ready to bring forward more evidence.

“No.”

“So the knowledge of you having and hiding an illegitimate son... you don’t think that’s important? The existence of the only child of the Lee empire, isn’t newsworthy?”

“How did you-” The terror in his face looks to be even greater than the prior accusation.

“You attempted to evict all of the residents who stayed in your residential apartment for over 10 years if they refused to agree with a massive lease hike. Park Jimin was the only one who wasn’t touched. He has no record of a job, living off what must be money given to him by his parents, so I looked into them. His father wasn’t listed but his late mother, Park Haesoon, used to work for your company, and 22 years ago she signed a NDA issued by your lawyer.”

You open to Jimin’s public instagram page turning it around for his father to see. “He may take mostly after his mother, but I can still see a few clues to your family resemblance.”

“When does this one drop?” Lee asks in dismay.

“It’s not going to, at least, not from me or my source. We try not to deal in personal life consulting, but I am going to give you some advice in this matter. Get ahead of it.”

“My wife won’t hear of it.” Mr. Lee mutters through clenched teeth, it’s easy to see that this conversation has him very much on edge.

You nod seeing the crux of his dilemma. “I looked into the approximate date of his conception, you were newly married at the time, were you not?”

“Yes. She knows, but her family does not, they have a large political presence and we cannot afford to lose all support from them. Trust me, the boy is not worth the risk.”

“He’s your child!” You berate the CEO, your anger getting the better of you as you think of the emotional toll on Jimin. Not only did he lose his mother but his father won't even publicly acknowledge him.

“I won’t be swayed on this matter. If you have nothing else to say you may leave.” Mr. Lee rises from his desk and once again gestures towards the door. “I’ll have keys to your new office space delivered to you tomorrow along with the lease. But I should warn you, if there is even a whisper of his name in public in conjunction with mine, I can assure you, your so-called firm won’t last another week.”

...

Less than a month later you and Hoseok have moved your entire enterprise to the new office space. You’re holding an open house for several different staff positions, when the most unlikely of applicants walks in your door, Park Jimin.

He hands you a piece of paper which you can only guess is his resume, because your eyes fail to leave his face, your mouth unable to form words in your state of shock. Closing the door behind him, he gives you a nervous smile. “Judging from your expression, I take it you know who I am?”

You manage a single nod, still confused as to why he’s here, now, with you. It’s lucky you’re conducting the interviews alone, otherwise it would be difficult to explain your shock to Hoseok without exposing Jimin’s lineage.

“I’ve been wanting to meet with you,” Jimin confesses, adding sheepishly, “My father told me of your meeting. He said you took a bit of an interest in me, even found my social media accounts.”

“Oh, oh no.” You finally manage to sputter out, far more anxious with the younger man than his father. You never intended to meet Jimin, let alone have him find out you dug into some very personal aspects of his past and present. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t intend to invade your privacy. I was only trying to figure out what was going on. And when I learned the truth, I wanted him to own up to his mistake of hiding you.”

Jimin chuckles lightly, sitting down in front of you, “I didn’t come here looking for an apology Miss, I know why you did it. I merely wanted to meet one of the few people to ever successfully scare the shit out of my father.”

The wide beaming smile accompanying his statement spurs a laugh from you, while also allowing you to relax in his presence. “Sometimes you have to intimidate these people to get them to do the right thing. But I’m sorry I wasn’t able to convince him to go public regarding everything.”

“That’s not your fault. In the end it was just nice to hear that there's someone who thinks I deserve better.” Jimin adds, with a look of sorrow leaching into his smile.

“Of course you do, but I must ask, why come here now?” You take a moment to confirm that it is in fact his resume that he’s handed you. ”I can’t imagine that you need a job.” He’s appearance alone is enough to tell you he’s buried in wealth, though his father has not given him the family name, it looks as if Jimin has gained some of the assets.

“Actually that’s exactly what I was looking for.”

“Your father didn’t pressure you to come here to keep an eye on me did he?” You ask with scepticism. Keeping watch over possible threats wouldn’t be a completely off brand for those of his status. And with you knowing some of his deepest secrets you could likely be considered one of the biggest risks.

“No.” Jimin chuckles, briefly raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’m here of my own volition. Money isn’t my biggest concern, I’ve been hoping to build connections. I want to use my time wisely and work with someone who is worthy of my focus, and that just so happens to be you.” He finishes with a suggestive smirk, making you wonder if you’ve won his affection too.

“And what does your focus get me?” You ask, trying to weigh the benefits versus the risk. You doubt that Mr. Lee will respond kindly to you hiring his son, but if he continues to deny his son’s existence then what right does he have to disagree?

“Anything you require. I was interested in the posting for your secretary, but any position beneath you would suit me nicely.”

...

There’s no way you’ll be able to convince Jimin to willingly change roles and work for Hoseok instead. But you can’t deny that your co-founder’s points are valid.

Jimin greets you warmly as you enter your office. “Did you have a nice lunch?”

“Yeah, it was good.” You respond, forcing out a smile.

“Really? Because you look upset.”

You curse Jimin’s ability to read you at a time like this. “I promise, lunch was fine. Yoongi gave me some substantial leads.” You sigh sliding back in your seat. With your values shaken and morals questioned by Hoseok, you are deeply in need of someone to brace yourself on. Wanting to step out of the realm of responsibility and control even if it’s just for a moment, you make a request to Jimin. “Would you go fetch Jungkook for our meeting?”

“I can just call him in.” He makes the case looking reluctant to leave your side.

“Please Jimin just go get him. I need a few minutes for a personal call.”

Jimin looks at you crestfallen before finally leaving. It’s not often you keep things from him, he can scope you out too well for that. But Kim Namjoon’s actual role in your life is the one secret you feel is the most imperative to hide from him.

You pull out your cell, not wanting to use his number on your work phone. After two rings he picks up. “Couldn’t wait a few more hours to hear my voice baby girl?”

You're too embarrassed to admit he’s right, settling on another excuse for your call. “N-no I just wanted to let you know that I’ve sent someone your way... sir.”

“Don’t lie to me I can hear the need in your voice.” He chuckles lightly as he taunts you. “Your reference already reached out to me. I’m excited to play with him, is he just as handsome as he sounds?”

“More so.”

Namjoon hums on the line in gratification. “My babygirl, giving me another pet to play with.”

You blush from the praise. Taehyung makes the sixth person you’ve suggested following the charity ball you met Namjoon at a couple years ago. Where he, much like you, was secretly scoping out potential clients. Every one of those patrons you’ve given him since then has been his pet, but you, you’re his babygirl.

“I was wondering...” Namjoon’s carries on, in a tone far more hesitant than usual. “Tonight would you be willing to try something a little unconventional? Would you like to share him?”

“W-would that be okay?” He’s never suggested adding another to your sessions before, but you can’t deny you’re intrigued by the prospect.

“He mentioned an interest in you, and after discussing his needs I feel that I require someone other than myself to pin his desires on. You’ll be the carrot while I’ll be the stick. Do you think you could do that for me?” Namjoon proposes in a low purr dragging every heated thought and possibility to the forefront of your mind.

“Yes sir.” Your response is instant, with little thought required. Helping Namjoon with Taehyung? You’d be a fool to turn down the opportunity. There’s a small knock on your office door with the return of Jimin and Jungkook trailing behind him. You start to panic while still on the phone with Namjoon. “I’ll see you later then?”

Namjoon can of course detect the change in your tone, but instead of letting you off the hook he pulls you further. “Did someone walk in on you babygirl? I take it they don’t know about this side of you?”

“No they don’t.”

“No sir.” He calls out your lack of decorum, an error which you know you’ll pay for later. “Such a shame they’re missing out. What do you think they would say if they knew of my plans for you tonight? How I intend to hang you like forbidden fruit above another man. Do you think they would approve?”

Your eyes widen as Namjoon continues and Jungkook takes the seat in front of you with Jimin standing behind him. You clear your throat and hold up your finger to them, gesturing for another minute. Turning away to hide your face as you continue to try and end the call. But hanging up on one’s dom is never advisable, condemning you to listen for as long as he wishes to torment.

“I bet you would like them watch, wouldn’t you?” Namjoon asks, egging on your sinful thoughts, transferring them from Taehyung over to your co-workers.

You shift your thighs trying to dispel the building need as you consider the notation of them watching. Imagining Jungkook’s wide eyes taking in the sight, likely with a hand on his cock, he’s an innocent man with strong desires. You’ve known others like him before, they act with naivete but when confronted with an opportunity for more, they don’t hesitate to gorge on what is presented to them.

And Jimin, would he accept your darker needs? You wish he would, desperately wanting him to play along, to help mould you into submission. Your head now filled with thoughts of kneeling before him taking him in your mouth while he christens you a good girl. If only you could be sure that he wouldn’t react like most people, like those who condemned Taehyung. Your eyes flutter back over to your secretary who is looking at you with deep suspicion. You desperately need to end the call or risk giving yourself away. “I should probably-”

“Am I embarrassing you baby girl?” Namjoon teases with an amused laugh. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“Yes...”

“Yes sir.” Namjoon reminds you once again. “I’ll release you for now, but I better see you here at seven o’clock sharp. Is that understood?”

You breathe a sigh of relief at the release. “Yes sir.” After finally hanging up, you offer up an apology. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was it?” Jimin inquires with a soft tone, but a quick lick to his lips shows his intentions to be far from innocent. His clenched fists and hovering nature further pointing towards jealousy.

“No one important.” You smile through the lie, careful in your attempt to comfort him. It’s pointless to keep acting in this way, but you still can’t bear the thought of disheartening his feelings or pushing him away.

...

After your meeting with Jungkook, you're left with a stack of paperwork and your ever persistent lack of concentration as you try to figure out what can be done with Jimin. Should you just tell him the issue, would it help or would it make the situation worse? If he knows how he is perceived then will the affection stop, and if it does, will you struggle with that loss?

“Can I walk you to your car Miss?” Jimin asks with his jacket in hand. You check the time, reading just after five. So lost in thought you had accomplished almost nothing in the last few hours of the day.

“I think I might just stay here until I have to leave for my appointment, I still have a bit more work to do.” You explain rubbing your hands over your face as you pull yourself from your daze.

“Do you want me to stay too then?”

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you. But before you go I’d like to discuss something” You gesture to the seat across from you which he takes with hesitation. You’re usually not so formal and he can clearly spot the difference. You open your mouth and pause trying to find the right words as his eyes shine in your direction. The evening sun pouring into the room bathing his skin in with golden light makes it so much harder to stick to the issue at hand. You eventually resort to staring at the irrelevant papers on your desk as you open with your concern.

“I’m worried that our actions towards each other imply that our relationship is not strictly professional.” You blurt it out quickly, hating every word that crosses your lips.

“Have I been making you uncomfortable Miss?” Jimin’s expression falls along with his question, the heartbreak ringing out clear in his voice.

“No, no. It’s just, I’m concerned about how others see our interactions.”

“Oh, so someone said something to you then?”

“Hoseok mentioned that a few people think we appear to be a bit more than boss and secretary.” You know it cowardly to bring Hoseok into this, but the information is second hand. You can’t be sure what others have said exactly.

“Well you do know more about me than most.” Jimin laughs lightly.

“That’s not what they are implying. They think we are engaged in a sexual relationship.”

“And...” He draws the word out as if the implication is nothing, implying there should be a better reason for your concerns.

“We aren’t Jimin!”

“Well, there's only one way to fix that.” He stands up leaning towards you over your desk. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about it. We could keep it a secret if you’d like, no one has to know.”

You doubt Jimin could keep a relationship between the two of you hidden, with the way he dotes on you already, you’re one passionate night away from finding three dozen roses on your desk. “Someone would find out, and the fall out-”

“Fuck the fall out,” Jimin states with resolve, reaching out his fingers tucking back a strand of your hair before curling beneath your chin. “I’m tired of this charade. Hoseok only said something because he’s jealous. He’s jealous that you want me as much as I want you.”

“Jimin,” You whisper. “Even if that was the case, that still doesn’t make it right.” You pull back from his touch. “You should go. Think about what I said, because if we can’t maintain at least some level of restraint and professionalism... then you might be better off working for someone else in the office.”

“So you’d rather keep your social image than be happy with me?” Jimin accuses, the usual warmth having completely vanished from his face.

“It’s not like that. My standing is my life, it’s my career, any blemish would destroy everything I have.” You attempt to express the fear inside you, the weight that bears on you every day. You already have so many secrets and liabilities, but one as close and extensive as a relationship with him might finally crush you and everything you’ve built. “I like you, I really do, but I can’t take the risk. You have to understand, I’m not like you. I don’t have a secret trust fund to fall back on.”

Jimin looks as though you’ve stabbed him, pulling away he heads to the exit. “I’m sorry I’m not worth the risk. You know, I thought you were better than that, but it would seem you’re just like everyone else.”

The door slamming between you echoes through the office as you sag in your chair. Never in all your years have you ever sunk so low. By taking him on you wanted to ensure Jimin’s happiness, to show him his value despite the lack of acknowledgement from his father, but now it seems you’ve fallen into the same role as those who have hurt him before.

...

You type your code into Namjoon’s door, stepping into his hall quickly and shutting the door behind you. It’s just before seven and usually you find him in his living room already waiting, but today it’s empty. Not wanting to disturb him, you take a seat on the couch and wait patiently for him to join you.

You feel ready to fold in on yourself as you continue to dwell on your argument with Jimin. If you laid out boundaries earlier you likely wouldn’t be where you are now. Hating yourself over his confession, and your inability to accept it.

There’s movement from the bedroom door as Namjoon’s partner Seokjin comes out to greet you. You look up in bewilderment as he takes your hand, pulling you off the couch. “Namjoon has already started with the other client, so he sent me to fetch you.”

You nod understanding Namjoon’s divergence from the norm, it wouldn’t be safe practice for him to leave Taehyung alone in a precarious position. Now looking to the door with curiosity, you’re excited by what lustful visions will greet you on the other side. But when Seokjin presents something to you it’s clear that you won’t get to see those sights.

“You’ve been asked to wear this.” He holds out a wide silken strip, one that Namjoon has used as a blindfold in the past. You allow Seokjin to cover your eyes, with a touch far more gentle than you know Namjoon’s to be. You don’t want kindness, craving instead to be broken in by the man in the other room, especially after the damage you’ve done today. The loss of your vision will have to be punishment enough for the time being.

“Does he want me to undress too?” You ask, touching the silk over your eyes, you're completely blind and already longing for the next step.

“No he wishes to save that pleasure for himself.”

You smirk thinking he might, you’ve been wearing his gift all day it’s only right that he gets to see it first.

There’s a knock and a click of the door before Seokjin takes you in hand again, leading you in. The air is warmer and heavier than that of the living room, making it impossible to draw a fresh breath.

Seokjin pushes down on your shoulder, a wordless order to kneel. The plush carpet meeting your knees as you lower yourself, if only you could reach out to get a better sense of what’s in front of you, but form dictates that you keep your hands on your lap.

The bedroom door closes, signalling Seokjin's departure. Sending one last wave of clean air before you're smothered once again. Locked away for the night with your master and his new pet. There’s a small creek from the mattress and the familiar rattle of restraints against the bedpost. You can just barely make out the tone of Namjoon’s low whisper as he speaks to the current tenant of the bed.

Footsteps land to your left, muffled by the wall to wall but still sending vibrations through the floor. As Namjoon approaches, your heart pounds wondering what his first move against you will be. He takes his sweet time letting the anticipation build as your chest continues to heave in its attempts to take in the thick air. You keep your posture, maintaining your stance with the knowledge that he will inspect you. Head lowered, hands on thighs, perched on your toes as your knees dig into the ground. Your legs soon start to tremble as your feet strain to bear the weight.

Namjoon settles right in front of you, the slow draw of his breath reaches your ears, while the heat of his exhale hits your face. A hand trails up the outside of your thigh stilling the tremor in your legs with a forceful grip. You freeze wondering if your jitters will cost you, you can’t let him find fault not if you want him to reward you with his presence.

But as he takes your chin tightly between his index and his thumb, you know you're in the clear. He tilts your head up as you breathe a sigh of relief. “Such a good girl, setting the perfect example.” His fingers slide down petting the column of your throat with a firm touch. “I was so happy to receive your picture this morning, did you wear the gift all day as ordered?”

“Yes sir.” You pant back, eager for him to see for himself.

“It wasn’t too hard for you then, to go so long in such a confined state?”

“No sir.”

“Good girl,” He purrs in your ear as he starts unfastening your shirt. He hesitates on the buttons for a moment. “Babygirl, would you care to tell me why you're wearing a men’s shirt?”

You swallow not wanting to admit that it’s the fault of the man currently lying in his bed. You plan to take the fall, wanting Namjoon’s undivided attention even if it’s in the form of a punishment. “I spilled something on mine sir.”

“So clumsy.” He has the shirt completely off now revealing the corset for him and likely Taehyung to see. Namjoon helps you to stand, unzipping your skirt he pushes it to the floor. You feel so helpless without your sight but Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind assisting. He uses the soft fabric of the shirt to dab at the sweat beading on your skin. “Who, may I ask, clothed you in theirs? Such an expensive label, he must think highly of you.”

You shift in place, made uncomfortable by your inability to answer. Knowing if you say his name thoughts of him will be summoned to your mind. You don’t deserve to think of him at such a time, not after you led him on and left him dry.

“You don’t wish to tell me?” The feel of Namjoon’s breath leaves you, the sounds of his feet indicating he’s moved to the right of you. Heading to a space you know to be occupied by a table and closet full of his tools. There’s a scrap of metal and what sounds like the jingle of buckles.

“No sir.”

“And why is that?” Fingers trail up your arm as Namjoon signals his return to your side.

“Because I’m not allowed to have him sir.”

“A noble response.” Namjoon reasons while he wraps the leather strap of a familiar collar around your neck. “But I still plan to get that name from you before we’re done.” He buckles it swiftly checking the tightness with two fingers. You thought him finished but he progresses to cuff your wrists in leather too, tethering them together in front of you.

He leans in again with a hushed request, “Still know your safe word?” You nod repeating is back to him before he leads you on towards the bed.

Namjoon stands behind you as he presents you to his new pet. When you gave Taehyung Namjoon’s number you hadn’t been expecting this but you can’t deny enjoying the prospect. But you find the silence and lack of reaction from him unnerving. “I asked him not to make a sound,” Namjoon explains, “And he’s abiding by my rules so well it’s he?”

Namjoon takes your hands helping you to feel the current state in which Taehyung is interned. A Leather cuff just like yours binds one of his wrists with a short chain leading to bedpost. You imagine that his other limbs are restricted to the other corners of the bed, for Namjoon has bound you in the same state before.

“Can he see?” You ask Namjoon wondering if he has been left blind too, or if he’s eyes are watching you now.

“Can he see you? He can babygirl, in fact, he hasn’t looked away once, and why would he?” Namjoon sits you down on the large bed to join Taehyung before pulling down the matching underwear to your corset. “They’re so wet, have you been soaking these all day?”

You nod in response. A delighted Namjoon makes an offer to Taehyung. “Would you like a taste pet? A reward for being so good.” Namjoon revels in his situation with a chuckle, the man beneath you must have nodded. “Then open up.” You know what a taste means for Namjoon, those panties of yours are most certainly shoved into Taehyung's mouth. He lets out a groan of satisfaction at the welcome intrusion.

Namjoon’s hands find your waist dragging you up further on to the bed with your knees now resting on the mattress. “You’re going to straddle him for me babygirl.” He shifts you over pulling up one of your legs to settle them on either side of the man beneath you. Your knees bent with your calves coming to rest against his bare hips. Without his billowy clothes he is far more slight than you expected, but his skin feels firm and toned.

You slowly move to lower yourself knowing what you will come down on top of as you sit, but Namjoon seems to have other plans in mind. He takes your bound wrist, lifting them above your head and latching the cuffs to a chain in the rafters of the canopy bed. Once fixed in place he tests your limitations, a quick tug to show you even with your arms fully extended you are only able to lower yourself to half a kneel. You groan in frustration with the realization you can’t move any closer to the cock that rests below you. It’s just as he promised, hung like forbidden fruit above another man. Your dominant’s flare for the poetic never failing to surprise you.

“Problem babygirl?” Namjoon cooes in your ear. “Do you have something you want to say?”

“No sir.”

“Good, because if I recall you still need to be punished for your lack of formality on the phone earlier today.”

Your stomach drops as you realize he’s going to discipline you right now, in full view of Taehyung. The heat rises to your face at the thought of being demeaned in front of another. Namjoon’s hand cups your bare ass, readying it for the assault. “You failed to call me sir twice, three for each lapse should do it.”

While the first strike eases you in, those that follow are not so gentle. The ring of his index biting your flesh with each impact. The third strike is so strong you pivot forward on your knees, your back arching as you bare forward still confined to the corset and chains. The weight of your body pulls painfully on your shoulders for a brief second, but Namjoon is there to catch you. Stopping you before you can slip and more, and propping you back in place before continuing.

One hand lays firmly on your stomach to prevent the shift from happening again, while the other rubs the curve of your ass mapping where he should strike next. You can feel the warmth in your skin as the blood rises to the surface in reaction to his beating. Your nerves are caught in the struggle between pain and pleasure, even as the sixth and final blow lands.

“Good girl.” Namjoon whispers his touch disappearing, as you ease down against your restraints. You hang completely by your wrists while your legs quake from the shock. Every nerve in your body feels as though it’s been left on fire with nothing to quench the flames. Leaving you to hang there for what seems like eternity.

“Sir?” You whisper in the dark as the heat continues to build inside you. Wondering where he has gone your body reacts, begging for the return of his attention with a dripping cunt. And with Taehyung below that can only mean the steady drip of your arousal is left to fall on him.

“Babygirl you’re making such a mess.” Namjoon confirms along with a groan from the man beneath you. “But he appears to be leaking too. Do you want some?” You nod eager for a taste.

Namjoon obliges, grabbing your throat in one hand, he presses a damp finger to your lips for you to take. Your mouth latches over the offered digit, allowing the bitter fluid to sweep over your tongue. You're forced to let it sit there unable to swallow as the grip on your throat tightens, with the strap of the collar digging into your skin. Your mouth fills with saliva prompting you to close it despite your desperate need for air.

“Does he taste good?” Namjoon wickedly possesses knowing you can barely even nod. It’s when you start to tremble that he finally releases your airway.

You swallow quickly before letting your mouth hang open in a pant. With your lungs still restricted by the corset your breathing comes in short shuddering waves. “Yes sir, so good.”

“I think he likes having you drench him, shall we give him more?”

“Please.” You beg but Namjoon suddenly delivers a staggering blow to your backside, indicating your misstep. You’re left gasping from the sudden impact, swinging in the restraints as you try to recoil. “Please sir.” Your plea comes again this time with the proper decorum.

There’s a crinkle of what sounds like a condom wrapper as Namjoon readies himself behind you. His fingers damp with lubrication find your back entrance, your tight hole giving way to a single finger. “You’ve been training for me like I asked?”

“Yes sir.” You almost come at the thought of it along with pleasure with the swirling digit. You’ve dabbled in anal before testing out a few toys, but a few weeks ago he sent you a plug with a tapered t-shaped end, giving you strict orders to wear it to work the following day. Unfortunately that was the date you had scheduled a meeting with your whole team. You were a flustered mess as you fought through your presentation, Jimin’s presence by your side making it so much more difficult to maintain control of your arousal . But the full day of public and torturous stimulation was worth it, for the reward that night was a call from Namjoon. His orders led you through every action of self pleasure. Telling you when and where to touch before finally directing you to come. You’ve used the item several times on your own since, knowing your practice would help you in this moment. You wanted to make Namjoon proud and take him with little resistance. That desire now intensified with having Taehyung as an audience.

“Then you're ready to take me in front of him?”

You nod gripping chains of the restraints as Namjoon eases into you. “Just relax.” His hands glide down your shoulders and back, coming to rest splayed across your hips, the tips of his finger root under the corset and dig into your stomach. Your grip eases as you lean back into him. “That’s it.” He mutters quietly as you stretch to accommodate him. “Good girl.”

After taking a few inches Namjoon pushes down on the front of your corset bowing the metal latches back to so they release, with a few clicks and swift presses the garment is off allowing you to breathe deeper than you have all day.

“God you should see him babygirl, he’s so ruined by the sight of you. You have him panting for you.” You wish you could curse Namjoon for his choice to blindfold you and silence Taehyung, you would take any punishment that came of it, but all you can muster is a gasp while he continues to fill you more. “I wonder how he’ll react,” One of Namjoon’s hands leaves your hips coming to rest with something soft against your aching clit. “When he sees you come.” With a click the object vibrates, throwing you back completely onto Namjoons cock from the shock.

You catch Namjoon’s lustful groan between your cries. He starts to thrust inside of you one hand gripping your chest while the other holds the vibrate down in place despite your bucking hips. It doesn’t take long for you to completely fold. As the heat inside you finally reaches its peak you shatter, your head falling back on Namjoon’s shoulder as you convulse and moan. With nothing for your cunt to clench your legs grip the trussed man between them. He too lets out a sinful groan as the fluids from your fold continue to drip down your legs meet his adjoining skin.

Namjoon turns the device off and slips out, the bed shifts as he moves in front of you. When his hand cups your face you lean into his touch. “You okay?”

You nod hoping he’ll be lenient with your lack of speech. You hear him whisper as he checks in with Taehyung too. “I’m going to take these now.” Namjoon must finally be freeing him from the waded underwear of yours.

Namjoon’s hands find you again, playing with the arousal dripping down your legs as he drags his fingers up to the source. A finger grazes your folds slipping between without penetrating. You pull desperately against your restraints hoping that it might find its way inside.

“So are you going to tell me who you’re not allowed to have?” Namjoon asks again. “Or do I have to let you hang here all night?”

“My secretary...” You give in with a whisper, hoping that Taehyung won’t hear.

“And what’s his name? Say it and I’ll give you what you want.”

The deal is too good for you to resist, you last only a couple more seconds before finally giving in. Crying out, “Jimin,” as two of Namjoon’s fingers breach you. Your sopping slit squelching as he curls his fingers.

“There it is.” Namjoon sighs, his other hand brushing your cheek. “Is he the reason you’re so worked up tonight babygirl?”

“Y-yes sir.” You stutter as his fingers continue. He gives you another minute of bliss before removing his digits.

“You’re going to do something for me, okay?” Namjoon asks. You nod as he continues to hold your face. “That man between your legs, you are going to fuck him and imagine Jimin as you do so, is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Is that okay with you pet?” He asks the other occupant, who still remains silent with his answers. The sound of another condom wrapper, comes as your confirmation. Taehyung lets out an unexpected high pitched whine, likely due to the pressure that comes with the latex being rubbed down his shaft. You’re already so invested in the lie that he’s even starting to sound like Jimin.

Namjoon is once again behind you. You can hear the rattle of the length of chain that holds you up and as he sinks back into you, his cock slipping in far easier this time, your body gladly welcomes the fullness of his intrusion. He then lowers you inch by inch, with little strength left in your legs you are relying only on the restraints and Namjoon to hold you up. After gaining a bit more freedom you can feel the tip of a cock brushing up against you. Namjoon’s arm comes to rest on your thigh as he lines the erection up for you to take it inside. It’s a slow descent, as you stretch to accommodate both of them. Your thankful Namjoon’s mercy for easing you down gradually.

When you bottom out Namjoon pulls the chain down from the rafters he releases the length from your cuffs, but rather than discarding it he attaches it to your collar, tugging on it as if it’s a leash. Though your hands are still bound together you have the freedom to rest them on the man laying down in front of you. You take pleasure in dragging the tips of your fingers across his skin, feeling his abs flex and his cock twitch inside you as you do so.

Namjoon starts to thrust, keeping a close hold on your collar. While he pushes you are sent up and down on what you desperately want to be Jimin’s thick cock. After a few thrusts you are shoved forward entirely by Namjoon, colliding with the man beneath you. Your chest is pushed into his, as your bound hands are pinned between the two of you. While your head is left to rest on his shoulder, the tip of your nose is able to graze his neck. As you breathe in your mind continues to play tricks, the smell coming off him mimics that of the cologne your secretary wears, rather than the scent of Taehyung.

Namjoon must have unbound his legs as they bend up to cradle your own from behind his hips bucking into yours, with both men taking you at a steady pace.

You move in closer to his neck, with a lick you taste the salt of his skin showing your intentions. Biting down on the spot, you suck in deeply as your teeth dig in even harder. The carnal groans you receive from him sending shivers to your spine. There’s the sound of a soft slap, Namjoon didn’t hit you, but the man beneath you returns to his ordered silence.

Namjoon thrusts even harder, pushing you into his chest repeatedly. The thought of being fucked into Jimin’s embrace is too much to bear. Your cunt clenches as you continue envisioning your secretary, and how you're grinding your clit against his pelvis.

You cry out over the swelling girths inside you, knowing their both likely to come soon. Clenching down one last time you dissolve in the pleasure and contentment. Namjoon finishes first remaining inside while his pet comes too. He leaves you there laying upon your imagined Jimin, in your daze you can barely move let alone focus on reality. With a wave of exhaustion you start to slip from consciousness, but not before one last praise reaches your ears. Your delirium grants you the satisfaction of hearing the voice of Jimin whisper, “Good girl.”

...

You can’t remember the last time you slept so well. You woke early to find Namjoon had taken care of you in the night, he released your wrist cuffs, and removed your blindfold, after you had passed out from the physical exertion. The only restraint to remain was your collar which he asked you to wear today. Taehyung was sadly already gone, but you can’t deny it was nice to have Namjoon to yourself before you left.

Now as you head off to work, showered and freshly dressed, with a turtleneck hiding your gift, you check your phone for the first time. Finding a string of apologetic messages sent from Jimin in the early hours of the morning. You reply apologizing too and asking to revisit the subject as soon as you get into work. Thankfully he agrees, the smiling emoji he ends his text on sends a wave of relief through you.

You step in the front entrance of your building ready to handle and objectively listen to Jimin’s thoughts and concerns. While you wait for the elevator your phone vibrates listing a call from an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Hey it’s Taehyung. Hope you don’t mind, I stole your personal number from my father.”

“Taehyung...” Heat starts to rise in your face at the thought of last night. The elevator arrives and you quickly step in. “No, not at all, to what do I owe the honour of this call.”

“No need to be so formal,” He giggles at you.

“Sorry, habit,” You respond. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday...” Taehyung starts off.

But his words are soon interrupted by someone shouting, “Hold the door.” You comply, pushing the button to keep them open, while trying to keep your focus on your conversation with Taehyung.

“...It’s not often that I meet someone who I can be so open with. I called the man you recommended and I’ve scheduled my first session with him tomorrow.”

You freeze, unable to fully comprehend what he’s saying, surely he misspoke. It can’t be his first session. “W-what do you mean your first session is tomorrow? You were there-” The collar hidden beneath your turtleneck feels as though it’s tightening around your throat. “Last night, I saw you-” The line goes dead as the elevator closes and starts to ascend. It was Taehyung in the bed with you and Namjoon last night. You saw... nothing you saw nothing because of the blindfolded that you were asked to wear.

“Everything okay?” You jump at the sound of the other voice, forgetting that some else had gotten into the elevator. Looking up you find Jimin there beaming at you, his head tilted from his query.

“Namjoon,” You flutter with your phone, too panicked to even greet your secretary properly. “I need to call Namjoon.” But the line won’t connect, not with you in the elevator. “Fuck...” You try again your patience not willing to wait the minute it’ll take to disembark on your floor.

You are almost there when the elevator shudders and stops. The sudden halt sends you off balance, but Jimin’s there to grab hold of you before you can fall. You thank him before stepping back and putting a bit of distance between the two of you again.

Jimin turns his attention to the panel, pushing the call button, he waits for someone to answer, but the call remains silent.

While he continues in his attempt to make contact, every scene of the night before floods back to your memory as you try to piece everything together. It was Taehyung, it had to be. He must just be playing a stupid joke. He was surely going to shout ‘gotcha’ before the phone disconnected, but you won’t know for certain until someone can get you off this blasted lift. You sink to the floor and Jimin follows, unable to reach anyone on the outside.

Despite your best efforts to rationalize what happened, your panicked breaths fail to slow, Spots start appearing in your vision as the elevator sways around you. Your breakfast threatens to make another appearance on the polished marble floor.

“It’ll be fine. Someone will notice soon.” Jimin attempts to comfort you but even that won’t quash the fear raging inside you.

“It’s not just that...” You whisper. “Something happened last night. I need to call Namjoon, I need to figure out...” Who was actually in that bed with you. Your confusion and panic break free sending you into a fit of tears as you hug your knees to your chest.

“Hush, it’s okay.” Jimin readjusts, moving in front of you and taking your hands in his. He leans towards you as he whispers in your ear. “Don’t cry babygirl.”

Your eyes snap to look at Jimin in alarm. Your prior worries are nothing compared to the terror which takes hold now. “H-how do you know that name?” Your stuttered words barely make their way past your lips.

“I think you know the answer to that question.” He pulls at the collar of his shirt allowing you to spot a large red mark on his neck, right where you had bitten the man you once thought to be Taehyung. “I wanted to wait a bit longer, I wanted more moments like we had last night but it would seem that someone had to go and ruin it.” You pull back but Jimin’s hands shift to take hold of your wrists, mimicking the manacles that embraced you the night before. “Are you not happy babygirl? You got your wish. And I... I got what I’ve always wanted.”

“This is so wrong Jimin! You knew I thought you were someone else! You knew that I wouldn’t have done that last night if I knew the truth.”

“Even though I was the one you really wanted babygirl?”

“Stop calling me that! Just because of what happened last night does not make me yours. You lied to Namjoon. You said that I sent you. You told him you were Taehyung!”

Jimin gives a wicked laugh in response to your accusations. “Oh, but you are mine. Namjoon is the one who’s been keeping things from you. He’s been in my employ far longer than yours.” He coos as his fingers tighten their grip on you. “I was the reason you were introduced to him, and I was the one who bestowed you with that name shortly after.”

“No, that’s not possible, Namjoon and I, we met at a charity event.”

“Hosted by my father. Where I told him to make himself known to you, to entice you to become one of his pets. I may have acted the sub last night but I am the one who holds Namjoon’s reins, I always have.”

“No he would never do that! He’s considerate and-”

“Had so much to gain by dominating you on my behalf. Money, power, and an assurance of safety, he would’ve been a fool to turn my offer down. Especially since you were so willing to play along with him. I dare say he enjoyed his time with you, but I was the one who permitted him to touch you. I was there to listen, to read, and to direct every conversation. Those gifts he told you to wear to the office, they were all from me.” He lets go of one of your wrists to pull down the neck of your shirt. Revealing the leather band strapped around your neck. “Today it’s the collar, yesterday it was the corset, and a few weeks ago...” Jimin smirks as he recalls the memory to your mind. “You barely made it through that meeting thanks to my gift.”

It’s impossible to swallow the admissions coming from him, but regardless of what may be true or false, you won’t stand for any of it. “You’ve had your fun, but this ends now.” You reach up attempting to remove the collar but Jimin pushes you to the floor pinning your arms above you as he straddles you. The elevator wavers from the struggle, teetering as you lay captive beneath him.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’ve placed yourself in. I hold in my possession your darkest secrets. One’s that will ruin you if they make their way out. Your illegal activity with a sex worker, your inappropriate sexual conduct with your secretary. Not to mention the names and dubious activities of every client you’ve recommended to Namjoon’s services.”

“Why... why are you doing this?”

“Because you found me. I worked so hard to exploit my father from the outside, getting everything I wanted without the threat of public exposure. I couldn’t let you ruin it all. When we first met I considered you a threat, but then I saw how easy and enjoyable it was to mould to my will. The more intimate you become with someone the more power you give them over you. Simply being your secretary isn’t enough, not if I want you in a more pliable state.” Jimin hushed whisper mixes with a haunting giggle as his lips come to your ear. “I plan to bend you to fit every one of my needs.”

“You’re psychotic!” You lash out trying to throw him off but he stems your revolt by planting himself further down on to you, sitting on your chest as the elevator sways.

“Psychotic? No, I am simply a man who found his passion amidst his revenge. I know what I desire, and vengeance has taught me how best to take it. So if you want to keep yourself and everything else around you from falling, I suggest you play along like a good girl. Or I promise you, my punishments won’t be as kind as what you’ve experienced before.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask, already fearing his answer. He has you trapped in a gilded cage with him, where one misstep will send you plummeting to meet your end. Nothing that comes accompanied by such threats can be palatable.

“At work? To keep the status quo, I’ll remain your secretary, only so I can keep a better hold on you.”

“Hoseok won’t agree to that. He already thinks I should ditch you. I should have listened to him.”

“Then you will make him agree or he might have an accident, much like your accountant did. He too thought we were too close, even threatened to say something. Don’t worry I saved us from him, just as I’ll save us from Hoseok if you can’t convince him to back off. Do you think you can get him to agree now?”

You give a solemn nod, with Hoseok on the line you have no choice.

“After hours, we’ll drop the middleman.” Jimin lowers himself further on to you, laying down on top, his weight flattening you to the floor. With his head coming to rest on your restrained arm as he whispers further plans. “Every night you’ll come to me instead, and every morning you’ll have a new gift to wear. When we step off this elevator you’ll act as if nothing is wrong. You will go about business as usual, is that clear babygirl?”

You stifle a sob staring directly up and away from his eyes, not daring to give him the satisfaction of your fear. With little else to cling to, all you can do is agree for the time being, as much as it pains you, you choke out your compliance. “Yes...”

“Yes what?” Jimin purrs, his lips faintly touching your ear. “Address me properly, or I will find ways to discipline you right here on this lift.” His fingers tighten and nails bite into your skin.

“Yes sir,” you whine as a plea for him to stop.

Jimin mercifully lessens his hold on your wrists, hitting you instead with a smirk and befouled praise. “Good girl. I knew you’d finally see that I’m worth the risk.”

...

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soyforramen · 3 years

Note

If I'm not too late, for the writing prompts: 9 and/or 47, dealer's choice

· “Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay!”

· You’re my ex but I think I still have feelings for you

Angst below, in an AU timeline...ish

It felt like a fire had lit up her lungs, the smoke crawling up her throat and choking her until her breath rasped out into the cold night air. Behind her, Jughead stumbled, his breathing coming like tidal waves. Betty spared a quick glance at him as she yanked at his arm and pointed to the ridge beyond.

“Just over there,” she lied.

It was becoming easier and easier to lie to him.

On their way up the ridge her feet slipped in the muddy wet leaves. Her knees hit the ground and her teeth rattled hard enough to see stars. Jughead slipped an arm around her waist and dragged her up the rest of the hill, his breath erratic.

It was another ten minutes until they finally reached Archie’s car, the only one in the Sweetwater parking lot. Not many people went hiking at 4 a.m., let alone to go chase down a kidnapped ex.

Thunder rolled above them, the vibrations lingering deep in her bones, and they leaned around the car. Jughead’s hand were on his knees, his breath gasping and desperate. His wiped at the water trickling down his face and coughed hard. Betty kneeled on the ground, hands grasping at the loose asphalt as she forced herself to focus on counting rather than what she’d encountered tonight.

“What the hell was that for?” Jughead wheezed.

Betty shook her head, still unable to talk through her sore throat. She let out a slow breath – 1, 2, 3, 4 – and breathed in again.

“Why’d you try and save me?” he yelled over the thunder. A crack of lightening illuminated them and she was startled by the intensity in his eyes.

“Did you want me to leave you back in there?” she shot back. Stars colored her eyes as she tried to stand, and she listed to one side, grasping for the car to keep her balance.

Jughead snarled and paced towards the far end of the parking lot, ignoring the pouring rain around them. From his limp, Betty assumed he had a Charlie Horse. Betty wanted to chide him about not taking care of his body, about his inability to treat it as something better than a dumpster for all his repressed feelings. It wasn’t her place, though. Not anymore.

Besides, it seemed cruel to point out, especially after he’d been on the verge of being tortured –

“I don’t need your help,” he said when he returned, his words still punctured by small gasps. “I had everything covered.”

She snorted and stood up to face him. A chill ran through her as the wind picked up, but she diverted the movement into massaging at her damaged wrist. Jughead, still as perceptive as ever, didn’t miss her wince. He reached towards her, his eyes fixed on her wrist. Realizing what he was about to do, he stopped short and bent over to retie his shoe.

Even from this angle Betty could see how thin he was.

“I’m sure you did,” she said. Even as the adrenaline seeped out of her body she still couldn’t keep the acid from her voice. “That great, big escape plan of yours was going swell, though I’m curious as to what you were planning after you got chained up in the basement and held to the wall with duct tape. Or did I miss something when I broke in?”

Half her words were covered up by an angry burst of thunder. Perhaps it was for the best; they’d both been through a lot. Or, perhaps it would have been better to put it all out there, fight out their anger until there was nothing left remaining.

Jughead’s lip curled, and Betty knew he’d caught enough.

Betty narrowed her eyes. Despite everything, she still didn’t know whether to trust him. There had been too much time between them, too much space and anger and - Not to mention his aliens and her serial killer.

“You can’t drive stick with a broken wrist.”

“It’s not broken,” she said petulantly, her lip pursed like Juniper’s when she didn’t get the last cookie.

Knowing that he was right, she dug into her coat pocket, angry with Jughead and herself. Another gust of wind blew through their wet cloths, and they huddled into the cab of the truck. As the engine turned over, Jughead scrubbed at the window with his damp shirtsleeves, trying to break through the fog that had followed them. The water streaked across, unable to change, and he gave up on the idea. With a grunt, he shifted into drive and turned towards town.

“Stupid,” he muttered, and Betty side-eyed him.

Her first instinct was that he was talking about her, and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping. After everything she’d done tonight, and he still couldn’t think anyone could care for him. Betty stared out of the window, her fingers pushing and prodding against the delicate skin on her wrist, revealing in the sharp jolts of pain and irritation. Eventually the pain cleared through her fog of anger and she realized he was likely talking to himself.

“Just –“

Jughead stopped, cursing under his breath. They came to a blind curve, halfway under water, and he shifted to first gear. As they crept along Betty’s eyes began to shut. She could feel her muscles relaxing as the adrenaline wore off, and the only thing that kept her awake was the potholes in the road. In the flashes of lightening above them, she could see Jughead’s jaw clenching as he worked to keep something in check.

Fine, she thought idly as darkness consumed her. Let him be mad. It wouldn’t be the first time he didn’t want to be near her.

She was startled awake when the engine stopped. In front of them was the Andrews’ home, normally bright and cheery, but in this light it was eerily still in the pouring rain.

“He’s not home tonight,” Jughead said flatly. “You can stay in his room. Unless you want to go home.”

Betty shook her head, trying not to let her fear overtake her. The house was empty and would be for the next week. They still hadn’t heard anything about Polly, and Alice had taken the twins upstate to try and get their mind off of it. After tonight (any night, every night, ever since – she cut off that particular voice, struggling to keep that terrible week out of her head), the last thing she wanted to do was to be alone.

The thought sent a shudder through her and she wrapped her arms around herself to try and keep the chill from sprinting down her back.

Jughead nodded, still staring straight ahead. He’d pulled the keys from the ignition and was now jangling them in his hand. He opened the car door and stepped out into the rain, not seeming to care whether Betty followed him or not. She scrambled out of the car, towards the front door and slipped in after him.

She held her breath, waiting in the long stretch of dark, for the lights to turn on. When they did, it was nothing more than Archie’s living room, still messy and smelling slightly of old clothing and pizza.

Jughead stalked towards the kitchen, his face set in an emotion she couldn’t discern anymore. A gut feeling told her it was because she was a stranger here, one who was encroaching not only on his ‘investigation’ but also on his personal space.

“I’ll make coffee,” Jughead said gruffly. “Take a shower or you’ll catch a cold.”

The way he’d said it, matter-of-factly and without any emotion behind it, contrasted so sharply with the fact that he’d remembered. He remembered, and wanted to let her know he’d remembered that she was prone to get colds when it rained. These little things twisted the knife deeper into her back and she tried not to think about her last foray into this home.

“Thanks,” Betty said softly.

She barely glanced at the mirror when she stepped into the bathroom. A thick cover of mud coated her lower half, while leaves had taken up residence in her hair. Her wrist, still throbbing and sore, was a swollen bright red. As bad as she might have looked, Betty revealed in the metaphorical duality of it all. Long ago, she might have said she was a good person, untouched by the corruption of life. Now, though, she felt as dirty and broken as she looked.

Pity about the boots though. Real suede apparently didn’t mix well with the more wild side of life. Betty didn’t dare think about what it would cost to buy Veronica a new pair.

The pipes groaned as the water warmed up. Peeling off her clothes was a chore, the damp, clinging clothes didn’t want to cooperate. The wet slap of them on the floor was a loud echo as she stepped into the shower.

The warm water was practically sinful after tonight. She let it cascade down her skin and shut her eyes to the world around her. Every inch of her body felt sore and bruised. She dreaded even thinking about how she’d feel tomorrow.

A draft of cold air sent goosebumps along her skin and Betty stilled. She trusted Jughead, of course, and yet…

The door shut again, and she peered around the curtain to find a set of clothing on the counter. Her heart stopped when she recognized a grey S from so long ago. Reluctant to let it out of her sight, Betty pulled the shower curtain to. He’d always had a bad habit of forming sentimental attachments to things, to items that had no right to such kindness.

But to have kept that shirt all these years? To have kept her shirt? Surely not. Surely her eyes, tired and sore from lack of sleep, had deceived her.

The ghost of her guilt churned again, deeper this time. A sharp pain went through her stomach – of guilt? regret? hope?

Betty picked up the bar of soap in her uninjured hand and scrubbed at her skin, hot tears running cold against her cheeks. Careless. She was always so careless with everything worth while. Archie’s hands ghosted across her skin, his lips, his whispers they both knew were lies. She was only looking for an escape, not another well to get trapped in. This time, though, she couldn’t think of a single way to escape.

A sob broke from her lips, and then another, and another. She shoved her fist against her mouth and curled up at the bottom of the tub. It was all she could do to keep from breaking up. A part of her, the one that saw reason, was surprised it hadn’t happened earlier tonight when she’d seen Jughead half-conscious with a red welt on his forehead. His head lolled absently against a support beam. His hands tightly bound with duct tape. Tight enough they were turning purple. Those stupid glasses lay at his feet only to reflect the beam of her flashlight onto the chains that bound him.

Images, real and imagined, flashed before her eyes. The well. TBK laughing above her. Polly, bound and gagged in the back of a cab. The twins, facedown in Sweetwater. Squeeky Fromme’s dead eyes staring up at the night sky, milky and flat. Jughead’s hands –

Betty shook her head, trying to shake the images away. No, that hadn’t happened, she chanted internally. It’s not real.

Not this time.

Long after the water had run cold, Betty finally came back to herself. Her movements were slow and forced; her head felt uselessly full of cotton. With a groan, she stood up and gasped as pins and needles threw her back to the ground. Unable to do anything, Betty turned off the water, gritting her teeth as she waited for the feeling to come back into her legs.

Into her life, even.

Now, with only the steady drip of a leaky faucet to keep her company, Betty heard just how quiet it was in the house. The wind blew outside, stronger than ever, but it seemed as if the house itself had gone into hibernation. Jughead had likely gone to bed, she realized. Or maybe he’d been smart enough to know he should see a doctor after all.

Perhaps that would be best. Then they could both pretend tonight had never happened and go back to the chilly detente they’d found themselves living in.

With an anticipatory wince, Betty hauled herself up and out of the tub. As she reached for the towel, she realized that the shirt loudly proclaimed ‘El Royale Gym’ in bright red letters. She scowled at the dancing rooster, ordering it to be something other than it was. Clearly, though, she’d been wrong.

Roughly, she pulled the shirt over her head, her damp hair catching at the collar, and stepped into the gym shorts. Why she put herself through this, why she tortured herself with something so impossible –

“Coffee’s on the counter,” Jughead said when she stepped out. His fingers flew over the keyboard, his eyes never leaving the screen.

At least some things never changed, she supposed. Even that, though, rang hollow after what they’d been through tonight.

Betty wrapped her hands around the mug, grateful for something to occupy herself with. She sipped at it a moment, giving him the chance to say something. Do something. When he didn’t, she didn’t know whether she felt relief, or disappointment.

It wasn’t until she reached the stairs that he finally spoke.

“Just tell me why you did it,” he said.

She hesitated, knowing that this was her own personal Maginot line. Crossing this would mean the end of one life, and the beginning of another strange reality, one where she would have no control.

“Why did you come after me? Why didn’t you call Sheriff Keller, or Archie, or –“

“Because I’m still in love with you,” Betty said. Her voice was no more than a soft sigh, but it was enough to bring about a sudden calmness.

The calm before the storm, she thought morbidly. Whatever would happen now, whatever was said…

She waited, counting to a hundred. When he didn’t say anything, she set the coffee down on a side table and went to Archie’s room, shutting the door softly behind her.

(Part 2 here)

#bughead fanfic #prompt #riverdale #but instead of saying art i'm saying angst (with the long a like ahngst)#pretend i'm posing like that art dude from the iron giant

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ri-ahhh · 3 years

Note

can u just give me mushy gushy shit with grayson like ethan has a girl over so the two of you decide to go out for a burger date and a walk at night? idk something like that pls 👉🏻👈🏻

A/N: I couldn’t even tell you how long this has been sitting in my drafts but I was looking through trying to find something to finish bc I was in the mood to write but not from scratch and found this lol. It was about halfway done and I have no idea where I was going with it but this is what it turned into as of today. Idek if there’s even anyone around here anymore to read this but whatever haha here it is.

You don’t usually mind being single. Even when your best friend/roommate Stella started seeing her boyfriend Charlie seriously, it didn’t give you any longing for a relationship of your own.

But there are some nights where you feel down and you just can’t handle it. The scenes of casual intimacy as soon as you get home and see them together — the vase of flowers on the kitchen island he must have brought over; the playful bickering across the room.

The incessant, unrelenting sound of a marathon session going on through the shared wall of your and Stella’s bedrooms.

You groan and turn the volume up on your AirPods, going straight to your messages next.

Wyd?

{G} 👀

Don’t be weird.

Pretty sure Stella and Charlie are trying to put a hole in the wall w her headboard and I can’t take it anymore.

Your roommate chooses that moment to let out a particularly enthusiastic “fuck!” If she weren’t your best friend, you might have given in to the urge to bang on the wall, but your phone lights up with Grayson’s reply anyway.

{G} E too.

{G} I mean like I can’t hear him but ik what’s going down in there

{G} I’d offer to pick u up but sounds like u need to get outta there lol. Meet me here?

You like the message and slip on some shoes, making sure to slam your bedroom door closed on your way out, as if it would make them pause even one thrust.

In the year that you’ve known him, Grayson Dolan has become one of your closest friends. The kind where you met as acquaintances, never talked much, but then you reconnected randomly and the conversation never stopped from there on. You talk about anything and everything, but recently you’ve bonded even more about being a perpetual third wheel. You knew he’d understand and not pass judgement on you in times like this, so it had been a no-brainer to text him as an escape from tonight.

He buzzes you into the gate when you get to his house, and he tells you over another text to go ahead and hop in the Porsche before he even gets outside. It makes you smile; night drives are your favorite, and while the Tesla is a vibe in its own right, there’s just something calming about someone (your attractive friend, no less) tangibly driving you around. It’s exactly what you need right now, no matter what destination he has in mind.

When he slides into the driver’s side not even a minute later, you’re almost overwhelmed by him. Looking far too good in your eyes for how casual he’s dressed in a well-fitting T-shirt and some grey sweats. Hair slightly damp from a recent shower.

He greets you with a grin and leans over the console to kiss your cheek, and you can smell the combination of his shampoo and a bit of cologne. You always appreciated that he doesn’t overdo the fragrance, and if possible it makes him even more intoxicating at times.

“Hey,” he says simply, sitting back in his seat and fastening the seatbelt.

“Hey.” You smile and watch him with a silent but fairly obvious appreciation as he reaches a hand to rest on the back of your seat, twisting the bit he needs to look out the back windshield. The Porsche has a backup camera, obviously, but he’s a cautious driver to a fault and insists he doesn’t fully trust them.

Grayson gets the car facing enough of the right direction to throw it in drive and exit down the long driveway. You shake your head and settle back, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and tucking your feet onto the seat beneath you.

“One day, we’ll be the ones making them leave the house,” he jokes, stopping for the gate to open.

You know it’s implied that he’s referring to the two of you with separate people, but you can’t help but consider the option that the two of you could make that happen together.

“I know for a fact you have a booty call list a mile long, Dolan,” you say with a raised brow. Despite the fleeting thought, keeping things lighthearted and platonic is much easier to deal with in reality. “You could have called one of them and done just that.”

He scoffs and pretends like you’ve just hurt him deeply, slapping a hand to his burly chest to clutch at his heart. “Excuse me, it is not a mile long.” He glances over at you with a held-back smirk. “A couple hundred yards, tops.”

You throw your head back with a loud cackle, looking out the window now as he turns onto the main road. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Damn, that’s a big word.” He likes to tease you about your extended vocabulary.

“Hopeless,” you elaborate, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

“Is that what that word means, or are you making fun of my high school dropout vocab?”

“Both.”

You let your head roll back against the headrest, turning to watch him, knees swayed to the side a bit. His form isn’t hidden in the dark at all, features lit up by the dash in front of him and the streetlights you’re passing by outside.

“Why didn’t you, then? Call one of them?”

Grayson shrugs. “Just didn’t really feel like spending time with people tonight.”

You’re silent for a moment and consider his answer. “Why did you agree to hang out, then? You didn’t have to.”

His eyes never leave the road, but you see the veins in his hand gripping the steering wheel bulge out for a moment as he squeezes it tightly.

“I guess I meant I didn’t want to spend time with people I don’t really care about.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it off with a sarcastic tone. “Aw, you care about me?”

“Of course I do,” he replies easily. “I’m not sure why, though. You’re so fuckin sassy sometimes.”

“You love it.”

The car rolls to a stop at a red light. Grayson’s hand slides from where it’s lightly gripping the gear shift, to yours, which is picking at a loose string on your leggings.

Your easy smile at the comfortable banter between you and Grayson falters some in surprise, but you let him turn your palm over and trace the lines of your hand softly. Both of your gazes are fixated on the way he tickles your skin when he says, “Yeah. I do.”

Your eyes shoot up, just in time to meet his. He looks at you with a weird mixture heat and vulnerability, and there’s a thick moment of silence, no longer than the single beat of your heart that you can hear thudding loud and clear in your ears, when suddenly the car behind you lays on the horn.

Both of you startle, and Grayson’s attention returns to the road ahead. He steps on the gas and takes his hand away, carding it through his hair roughly as you sink back into your seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh my God, dude, you can’t just do that to me,” you blurt out, your heart in your stomach and your brain even lower. A helpless giggle escapes you, and you tug on your own locks. “Shit...”

“What?” he asks defensively, but you hear the tiny bit of the grin he’s wearing in his voice.

You turn your head to deadpan him, eyes wide. “You can’t just... imply something like that and give me sex eyes and not think you did something to me! Are you crazy?”

He gives a one-shouldered shrug with the arm resting on top of the steering wheel again. “Maybe. You’re proving my ‘sassy’ point all over again.”

“Oh my — don’t fuck with my head, Gray.”

“Hey.” His voice is deeper, more serious as the car comes to another stop. You’re only just now realizing you’ve reached the burger joint, and that the late hour made finding parking a nonexistent problem. He puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt before doing the same to yours. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to fuck with your head, I promise. I just... didn’t want it to seem like I was coming on too strong too suddenly. I, uh, have a history of doing that.”

You stare at him, processing everything. “I know.”

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, I know you do.”

There’s more silence. That heavy kind that happened right after his little impromptu confession.

“You know,” you finally speak up, finding your voice after mulling over your words, “I kinda love that you’re a douche.”

He looks a little taken aback, until understanding dawns on him, and his eyes light up in a way that has you smiling instantly with him. “Really?”

You nod. “Call me crazy.”

Grayson shifts closer in his seat, his pink tongue darting out to lick those plump lips. You mirror him, and this time you take the initiative to reach out for his hand. It’s warm and strong, just like the rest of him.

Like earlier, you watch your hands lightly caressing each other as you speak. “And I love that you come on strong. And that you put your heart out there.” You interlace your fingers, immediately in love with the contrast of his huge ones between your slim ones. “Makes things way easier for me.”

He grins wide. “There’s that sass again.”

You bite your lip through your smirk and tug him close to you with your clasped hands, your free one reaching behind his neck to drag his lips to yours. “Mm. Better shut me up, then.”

#here I go again with yet another friends to lovers lmao #dolan twins #Grayson Dolan #blurb #g blurb

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startanewdream · 3 years

Text

Godfather duty

Summary: When James is surprised by Sirius and Harry coming home drunk four in the morning, he questions himself when he got too old for that.

For @theblueocean

Part of the Jily Lives AU

Rated M for mentions of underage drinking and some swearing.

Read on AO3 with all the correct italics, or below the cut:

_________

His eyelids feel heavy, but James keeps writing. He is almost finishing the first draft of the article for Transfiguration Today; it's due Sunday and he still has five days to finish it, but James is really anxious for presenting it. It's not his first paper for that magazine, but his article will be the headline this time, and he promised himself he would send them in advance as much as he could - and he still needs to send it to Minerva for her to read and review.

It feels a lot like he is back in school doing essays, but James doesn't remember being that excited back at Hogwarts - well, not about homework anyway.

He puts the final dot and lets the quill rest, satisfied. He will proofread in the morning, maybe even rewrite altogether from a different perspective, but it's done and it's a competent article, he knows.

Human transfiguration was always a point of interest to him.

He raises, stretching up and looking at his watch. It's past four in the morning already; he really lost track of time. He remembers Lily calling him to go to bed - and then he promised her he would go in a minute, which he clearly forgot.

He suppresses a yawn as he leaves the library, thinking only of sinking on his bed when he hears a sound coming from the front porch.

All his sleepiness is gone instantly, and he turns with his wand already raised, alarmed and with his instincts screaming even though it’s been months since the war ended; someone is turning the doorknob. The spell is almost leaving his lips when the door opens wide and he sees Harry's joyful face.

Harry is not alone; Sirius is with him, their arms around each other in a brotherly gesture and for a moment James has a flashback of himself with Sirius with that same easiness, both of them beaming happily and goofy; it's a memory of twenty years ago, of a night they went around Muggle London joining a pub crawl that ended up with James' mother finding them passed out in the middle of the Potter’s living room in Godric’s Hollows.

A lot of things happened that night - a flight from the Muggle police when they tried to climb Cleopatra’s Needle, an attempt to perform a serenade to Lily only to realize they were on the wrong street and throwing eggs at Grimmauld Place number twelve - but what he remembers clearer is the smell of the alcohol on him as he woke up next morning - and then the taste of it all as he threw it all up.

And right now Sirius and Harry have that same smell of cheap whiskey mixed with beer.

James blinks, confused. As far as he thought, Harry had been back from work hours ago - James was sure Harry had been sleeping on his bed right now.

It’s evident he was wrong.

‘Hi, Prongs’, Sirius says, grinning from ear-to-ear, sounding much steadier than James would have guessed from the smell coming from them. ‘Care to let us in?’

'What's going on?', James asks, worried, stepping aside to let them enter. Both of them are stumbling, but James has the impression that Sirius is supporting Harry more than the opposite.

For some reason his question makes them look at each other.

'What I said?', Sirius asks Harry as if they are sharing some old joke. Harry lets out of one of his rare carefree giggles. 'What d'you think we are doing, dear Prongs?'

'Coming home drunk in the middle of the night?’

‘Chill out, Dad’, Harry says, winking at him.

Chill out?

‘It’s four in the morning of a Tuesday - I thought you were home already!’

‘I had to work late’, Harry answers immediately, grinning. Sirius takes him to the living room, trying to help him on the couch, but Harry slides to the floor, falling on the carpet.

‘On a bar?’

‘It’s for work’, Harry insists, eyes open as if that was obvious.

‘It was a very important mission’, Sirius agrees. ‘Stealth. Mixing with locals. Spying on people’.

‘Oh, were there Death Eaters on that bar?’, James asks, rolling his eyes.

‘It could have been! Harry needs to know how to handle his alcohol!’

Harry giggles.

‘I handle it very well’, he says proudly, clapping his hands. ‘Tell him, Sirius’.

‘He won us money on darts. He even closed his eyes for the last shot. You would be proud!’

‘That you were letting my barely out-of-age kid bet on games?’

Sirius rolls his eyes.

‘Everything was under control, he won. Stop worrying, I was on godfather duty tonight -’

‘Between a drink and another, you mean?’

‘ - and I brought him home, right?’

‘Speaking of that’, James raises his eyebrows, now sounding openly reproachful. ‘How did you come home? Don’t tell me you drank and apparated’.

‘I would never!’

‘Or that motorbike - if you came here flying, I swear I will -’

‘Relax, Dad!’, Harry intervenes, now raising on a jump, ignoring how he tumbles in the process. ‘We got a cab. Eeeeeeverything under control’.

James watches his son go to the cabinet in the room, searching for something until he takes out a feather to doodle something on a parchment, not realizing it’s a grocery list.

‘I see the control’, he says dryly. ‘What are you doing, Harry?’

‘I am making a howler’.

‘What? What for?’

‘To howl, duh - hey!’, he turns to Sirius, his eyes sparkling madly. ‘Remus never sends letters - he only sends howlers!’

Sirius chuckles. ‘I howl too! Owoooooo!’

‘Hey, hey, you are going to wake up Lily!’

‘And?’

‘And maybe you don’t want her to see what you did to Harry - Harry, stop that, you are not sending anyone a howler’.

‘I have to tell Ginny I love her!’

‘She already knows, I am sure, you’ve told her’.

‘But I never yelled it!’

‘And she loves you more because of that, come on, give me that letter’.

‘I knew he wouldn’t let you send it’, Sirius says, his voice now smug. ‘Prongsie is old’.

James rolls his eyes.

‘Same age as you, Pads’, he remembers distantly, taking the letter from Harry, though now he realizes he didn’t need to worry. Harry’s letter is unintelligible and he doubts he could cast the spell to turn into a howler.

Harry pouts.

‘Sirius is right, you are square’.

‘What?’

‘We can never have fun’.

‘And you are so serious - more than me, haha!’, Sirius adds, now laying down lazily on the couch, his legs spread. James is about to complain that his shoes are all muddy and Sirius should take them out, but he stops.

Oh, Merlin, he is really getting a bit square, isn’t he?

‘I can be fun’, he stresses, making Sirius let out one of his bark laughs.

‘Yeah, years ago. Before you were a dad - no offence, Harry’.

Harry doesn’t seem to have heard him, which James considers a shame. Harry would surely defend him - he was a cool dad to Harry.

No, he is still a cool dad. The kind that Harry can feel at will to talk about anything, that supports Harry and that is always there for him.

Except that Harry didn’t tell him about working late tonight or going to a bar. Except Harry and Sirius didn’t ask for his company.

And if they did - he thinks of the paper he just finished and how excited he was for it.

He would have said no.

That’s not very cool of him.

‘I will take a flight!’, Harry declares, his eyes shining with this idea and for once James doesn’t feel satisfied with the mischievousness in him.

‘No drinking and flying’, James says sternly, and he decides that he will have to remain uncool for a little longer. ‘You - you stay here! Sirius - watch him. Better than you did so far, I mean’.

Sirius grimaces, evidently annoyed, but he sits next to Harry, who is now mumbling something incomprehensible, though Sirius seems to be listening to him with attention. James leaves them in the living room, locking the door behind him just in case, and goes to Lily’s office hoping she has stored a Hangover Potion. He is in no luck, of course; it’s been years since he and Lily even needed one - James believes it comes with the age knowing when to stop - and there was nothing in Harry’s latest behaviour that showed them they would need it.

For a second James almost considers waking up Lily, knowing she would make the potion in minutes, but he doesn’t want her to see the mess Harry is right now; it’s far better she hears it later than witnessing first hand. He grabs a small cauldron and the ingredients he will need and returns to the living room.

In the few minutes he was out, Harry and Sirius managed to make things strangely worse. There is snow in the room, that he sees Sirius casting from his wand; Harry is perfectly still, the snow making a sort of white hat on his head, his arms wide open and also covered in snow.

‘What -’, James tries to ask, but he just blinks at the weirdness on the scene.

‘Shhhh’, Sirius says, a finger on his lips. ‘Don’t distract him!’

‘What is Harry doing?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? Disguise training! He is a snowman!’

‘He is missing a carrot nose’, James notes, grimacing, and that makes Sirius turn his wand to Harry’s face. ‘I am joking!’

It’s too late; there is a flash of light and then there is a carrot on Harry’s face, replacing his nose.

‘Sirius!’, Harry complains, raising his hand to touch his new nose. His voice is muffled. ‘I can’t have a nose this big! How can I snog Ginny now?’

‘That’s your concern?’, James asks, half-amused, now taking out Sirius’ wand to make sure he doesn’t cast any more magic.

‘I will poke her in the eye!’, Harry says, moping, scratching the tip of his pointy nose thoughtfully.

‘I will transform you back as soon as you drink this potion, now lay still’. Harry sighs, sitting on the couch. Sirius sits next to him, patching him in the back as if he weren’t the one that turned Harry’s nose into a carrot in the first place.

‘Your nose matches her hair’, he says bracingly. ‘You will look beautiful together’.

‘I am not sure this is much comfort, Padfoot’, James notes, placing the cauldron in the fireplace and starting to throw in the ingredients. He could add something for the taste, but he believes the bitterness helps build character.

‘Well, I got him quiet, didn’t I?’, Sirius asks, pointing at Harry who is now sitting on the couch, still playing with his carrot nose.

‘You could have messed up so badly’.

‘I am not that drunk - I watched over your kid, no matter what you think of me’.

James shakes his head.

‘Letting him drink that much? He barely can stand - what if someone -’

‘The war is over, James’, Sirius tells him, sounding much grim now. ‘And like I said, I was there. Me, half-a-dozen junior Aurors and some seniors too’.

‘Unless any Death Eater threat would be a challenge to a drinking contest, I don’t think it would make much difference’.

‘Oh, Merlin’. Sirius sighs, walking to the drink cabinet and opening it to take a bottle of firewhiskey. ‘Here, drink this’.

‘What?’

‘You are sober, I hate talking to sober people when I am pissed. Sober people are boring’.

‘I am not boring’, James complains, pushing away the bottle that Sirius extends in his direction. ‘And I am past the age of being forced to drink to look cool’.

‘Then drink because it’s nice!’, Sirius says forcefully now. ‘Drink because you are alive! Drink because you are happy! Drink because for the first time in his life your son is properly pissed!’

‘That’s not a reason -’

‘That’s enough reason! He is eighteen! What age were we when we first got pissed?’

‘Seventeen’. Sirius raises his eyebrows, waiting for him, and James flushes, turning his attention to the cauldron. The potion is almost over. ‘Fine, fifteen - but it didn’t count, we weren’t thinking straight then’.

‘Yeah. Our first transformation’, Sirius remembers, but there is something heavy on his voice now.

‘What is the problem, Padfoot?’

‘Nothing’.

That makes James stop. He takes the cauldron out of the fire, to let the potion cool down, and turns to Sirius, watching him. Sirius’ eyes are watery as he always gets when he drinks, but he sustains James’ look for a surprisingly full two minutes before he sighs.

‘Fine, you are the problem’.

‘Me? You take my son out for a drink without telling me, return home four in the morning and I am the problem?’

‘Look at what you are saying! He is of age! He was with his friends - and his very trustable godfather! He was having fun for once in his life, instead of living that responsible life you want for him’.

‘Responsible?’, James repeats, dumbfounded. Nobody had ever accused him of wanting to do the responsible thing. ‘I am just being his father’.

‘Well, maybe Harry doesn’t need his father anymore’.

There is a long pause after that. James blinks, once, twice, very slowly, trying to understand what Sirius means by that, and it’s only when he reaches for the drink cabinet to get a glass for the potion, that Sirius moves.

‘Shit - I didn’t mean like that - sorry, James, it’s not -’

‘No, I get it’, James says, his voice forcefully steady. ‘Harry wants the cool father figure that allows him everything - and, well, Sirius “what’s life without a little risk” Black is perfect for that’.

‘Don’t be absurd - that kid worships the ground you walk upon -’

‘And yet he was with you, not me. I get it. I am a father, not a friend’. He offers Sirius a full glass. ‘Drink this, you’ll feel better tomorrow’.

‘No, I deserve the hangover tomorrow, but that’s beside the point. It’s my fault’.

‘I don’t think you forced Harry to drink’, James notes dryly, sitting next to Harry to help him drink the potion. Harry seems to be in another world now, but he obliges to James’ help without questioning.

‘No, that was all on him - I mean it, he’d make you proud, he won a drinking contest with Thompson and he is twice Harry’s size - er, not helping, sorry’. Sirius sits on the other side of Harry. ‘He was going to tell you we’d be out for a drink. And I didn't let him'.

'Why? Why would you -'

'Because I thought you would overreact. Worry too much about him. Don't let him have any fun'.

'I would not -'

'And because I thought he'd ask you to come’.

James blinks. Between them, Harry lays his head on James' shoulder, now watching Sirius with mild curiosity.

‘I would ask’, he agrees, a note of pride in his voice.

'Am I that bad company?', James asks in a low voice. Sirius shakes his head.

'Would you come with us?', he challenges. James keeps his gaze for a few seconds, but just like Sirius didn't lie for him before, he wouldn't dare speak anything but the truth.

'No, I had things to do today'.

'That article', Sirius scoffs. 'You don't talk about anything else'.

James frowns.

'It's really important - a chance of -'

'Getting yourself a name, I know, I know. But see -', his grey eyes are burning over James now, somewhat desperate. 'The Prongs I know would never care for reputation'.

'Sirius…'

'The Prongs I know would be honest with me'.

'I am - what are you -'

'I heard you and Kingsley, ok?', he blows off. 'Registering as an animagus? After all this time?'

There is another silence, broken only by the crackling fire.

'I was going to tell you', James says finally. 'I didn't think it was important - you don't have to register too -'

'That's not the point - you are breaking our trust -'

'It's just an entry on a list. It doesn’t change anything, I will keep our full moon nights -'

'When Remus has time, you mean?', he asks, sounding bitter now. 'He missed the last two, he'd rather stay home -'

'He has a kid now -'

'So do you and… you guys are getting old and responsible and too serious for me'.

'Nobody is more serious than you', James says, smiling at him, but Sirius just rolls his eyes and grabs the bottle of firewhiskey on the coffee table, taking a sip.

James extends his hand. Sirius raises one eyebrow, in disbelief, and his expression only relaxes a little when James takes a long sip of the firewhiskey. The drink burns his throat, infusing him with that weird dose of courage and a will to do something, but James just sighs.

'You are no less serious because of it', Sirius notes.

'I got serious - the war, the first one and then the second one and everything - and I think I forgot how to relax - but that doesn't mean… you are my brother, Sirius'.

'The annoying prettier baby brother?'

'You are older', James says, grinning, and after a second of hesitation, Sirius smiles too. 'You can invite me - I mean, we can do things together. Even if it sounds - or is - stupid'.

'Things together like… registering our animagus form?'

James rests against the couch, and Harry moves his head to rest more comfortably on his shoulders; James thinks he will sleep soon.

'You don't need to do it too - Kingsley already knows about you and he is the bloody Minister of Magic, isn't he? This was not about doing the responsible thing'.

'Then why -'

'I want the credit'. James presses his lips, before admitting something he didn't even share with Lily yet. 'I talked to Minerva - if I get back to my studies, get enough recommendation to be approved by the board, I could get her position'.

Sirius blinks, startled.

'Her position? You mean -'

'Transfiguration professor, yeah'.

He looks away now, feeling somewhat embarrassed. It had never really been an ambition - teaching was much more something Remus had always wanted to do than him; James had been glad to focus on his studies and develop new theories of transfiguration until then.

But ever since Minerva had vented that possibility to him a few weeks after the end of the war, when they were repairing one of the halls destroyed in the battle, that thought had been on his mind. He wasn't in a rush, but the idea of getting back to Hogwarts, this time as a professor, watching other students learn from him as much as he had learned from Minerva McGonagall… he couldn't deny that idea had taken root in his mind.

James always teased her that he had been her favourite student, but the fact was that she was his favourite professor and there was some part of him that wanted to impress her and prove himself good enough to replace her someday.

He waits for Sirius' response, but there is only a silence that doesn't seem good.

'I know it's huge', James mumbles. 'There are others far more capacitated than me, I am starting now to -'

'Shut your mouth, Prongs', interrupts Sirius, and James turns to him. There is a grin on his face. 'Being humble never suited you'.

James laughs softly.

'I wasn’t trying to', he assures him.

'I thought - I thought you had wanted to do the right thing. You know, registering just because you wanted to follow the law, as if… as if you were ashamed of what we did illegally -'

'Now it's you who needs to shut up, Padfoot'. He takes another sip of the firewhiskey. ‘Animagus at age of fifteen? I’m damn proud of it. Also, that’s the only thing that I have done that’s cooler than half the stuff Harry got into’.

‘Yeah, I suppose it’s hard when your son is a bloody hero’.

Harry chooses that moment to start snoring loudly, which sends James and Sirius into a fit of laughter. James raises, careful to let Harry sleep on the couch, and Harry doesn’t look remotely close to waking up.

‘I am glad you took him out for a drink’, James says, taking out Harry’s glasses. ‘I was just jealous - it should have been me’.

‘I am sure there will be another occasion’, Sirius says dismissively. ‘He will probably forget every embarrassing thing he did, you know how that works’.

‘Oh, he embarrassed himself?’, James asks, a glint of fun on his eyes. Sirius smirks.

‘That happy giggling Harry you saw? Just the last stage. He was all cocky at first - that’s how we got into that darts bet’.

‘Harry? My son? Cocky?’

‘Oh, yeah, he reminded me a lot of you’, Sirius’ smirk increases. ‘He was strutting and all’.

‘Tell me you took pictures of it’.

‘I would never’, Sirius declares, though James isn’t sure he believes him this time. ‘And then he got very… honest’.

‘That doesn’t sound good for that stealth mission’.

Sirius shakes his head.

‘If he was spilling out Auror secrets I would be happier - no, instead I had to hear about the time he and Ginny -’

‘Nope, nope, I don’t want to know’.

‘Well, me neither, I won’t ever use your Invisibility Cloak again, you can be sure. But anyway - that’s why he got here so drunk. I decided vodka was the only way to shut him up properly’.

Sirius looks so satisfied with himself and his choices, that James knows what he has to do.

‘It’s late’, he says pleasantly. ‘Crash here tonight’.

‘Oh, I think I will - I am not fit to apparate’.

‘Let’s go upstairs then’.

‘And Harry?’

‘Oh, look at him. He is sleeping so well, he can stay here tonight’.

‘If you are sure’.

‘Yeah, yeah, everything will be fine’.

_________

James has slept barely four hours when he wakes up with Lily’s cry. He puts on his robe lazily, waiting a few minutes to go downstairs; when he passes Sirius’ room, the door is already opened.

Good.

He finds them all together in the toilet next to the kitchen, and by the sounds coming out of there, his Hangover Potion wasn’t very efficient.

‘We were working late, Lily’, Sirius is saying, sounding properly desperate. ‘And we went out for a drink -’

‘It was a Tuesday night! He has to work in one hour!’

‘So do I - but you see, I’m his boss, so everything is fine! Also, I don’t think any of the boys will show up -’

‘Perfect’, Lily interrupts him, her eyes sending daggers in Sirius’ direction. ‘Then you can take care of him’. She sees James. ‘Did you know about this?’

‘Me? I was working late on my text, you know’, he answers, yawning and looking very innocent.

Sirius waits until Lily is out for the kitchen to turn to James, his eyes narrowed.

‘You knew she would be mad. That’s why you told me to stick around’.

‘If I knew how my dear wife would react to knowing you got our son pissed? How could I?’

Sirius grimaces as there is another retching sound coming from the bathroom.

‘Oh, you better go there and don’t forget to keep Harry hydrated’.

‘Watch it’, Sirius says, but he goes into the bathroom anyway. ‘I won’t ever show you the pictures’.

James shrugs, undisturbed.

‘That’s fine. Next time Harry gets drunk, I will be there’.

‘I won’t ever ever ever drink again’, Harry moans, hugging the toilet seat now, his face sweaty.

‘Oh, kid, we’ve all been there’, Sirius sighs, flushing down the toilet and helping Harry raise.

James grins to himself, glad that Sirius is doing his godfather duty once again, and leaves them alone.

#Eyes glistening #james and sirius #harry and sirius #James and Harry #just a bunch of drunks #and a dad dealing with it #James is not old come on #jily lives is a happier world

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